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[Illustration: THE MUSIC AT CANCUC]
IN INDIAN MEXICO
A NARRATIVE OF TRAVEL AND LABOR
BY
FREDERICK STARR
CHICAGO FORBES & COMPANY
Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data
Starr, Frederick, 1858-1933. In Indian Mexico.
Reprint of the ed. published by Forbes, Chicago. 1. Indians of Mexico.
2. Mexico--Description and travel. 3. Starr, Frederick, 1858-1933. I.
Title. F1220.S78 1978 972'.004'97 74-9025 ISBN 0-404-11903-4
First AMS edition published in 1978.
Reprinted from the edition of 1908, Chicago. [Trim size of the original
has been slightly altered in this edition. Original trim size: 15.5 x
23.7 cm. Text area of the original has been maintained in this edition.]
IN INDIAN MEXICO IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED TO A.A. ROBINSON TO WHOM
ALL MY WORK IN MEXICO IS DUE AND WHOSE INTEREST HAS BEEN CONTINUOUS AND
UNFAILING
PREFACE
The reading public may well ask, Why another travel book on Mexico?
Few countries have been so frequently written up by the traveler.
Many books, good, bad, and indifferent, but chiefly bad, have been
perpetrated. Most of these books, however, cover the same ground,
and ground which has been traversed by many people. Indian Mexico is
practically unknown. The only travel-book regarding it, in English, is
Lumholtz's "Unknown Mexico." The indians among whom Lumholtz worked
lived in northwestern Mexico; those among whom I have studied are in
southern Mexico. The only district where his work and mine overlap is
the Tarascan area. In fact, then, I write upon an almost unknown and
untouched subject. Lumholtz studied life and customs; my study has been
the physical type of south Mexican indians. Within the area covered by
Lumholtz, the physical characteristics of the tribes have been
studied by Hrdlicka. His studies and my own are practically the only
investigations within the field.
There are two Mexicos. Northern Mexico to the latitude of the capital
city is a _mestizo_ country; the indians of pure blood within that area
occupy limited and circumscribed regions. Southern Mexico is indian
country; there are large regions, where the _mestizos_, not the indians,
are the exception. From the time of my first contact with Mexican
indians, I was impressed with the notable differences between tribes,
and desired to make a serious study of their types. In 1895, the
accidental meeting with a priest from Guatemala led to my making a
journey to Central America. It was on that journey that I saw how the
work in question might be done. While the government of Mexico is
modeled upon the same pattern as our own, it is far more paternal in its
nature. The Republic is a confederation of sovereign states, each of
which has its elected governor. The states are subdivided into districts
somewhat corresponding to our counties, over each of which is a _jefe
politico_ appointed by the governor; he has no responsibility to those
below him, but is directly responsible to the man who names him, and
who can at will remove him; he is not expected to trouble the state
government unnecessarily, and as long as he turns over the taxes which
are due the state he is given a free hand. Within the districts are
the cities and towns, each with its local, independent, elected town
government.
The work I planned to do among these indian towns was threefold: 1. The
measurement of one hundred men and twenty-five women in each population,
fourteen measurements being taken upon each subject; 2. The making
of pictures,--portraits, dress, occupations, customs, buildings, and
landscapes; 3. The making of plaster busts of five individuals in each
tribe. To do such work, of course, involved difficulty, as the Indians
of Mexico are ignorant, timid, and suspicious. Much time would be
necessary, in each village, if one depended upon establishing friendly
and personal relations with the people. But with government assistance,
all might be done promptly and easily. Such assistance was readily
secured. Before starting upon any given journey, I secured letters from
the Department of Fomento, one of the Executive Departments of the
Federal Government. These letters were directed to the governors of the
states; they were courteously worded introductions. From the governors,
I received letters of a more vigorous character to the _jefes_ of the
districts to be visited. From the _jefes_, I received stringent orders
upon the local governments; these orders entered into no detail, but
stated that I had come, recommended by the superior authorities, for
scientific investigations; that the local authorities should furnish the
necessaries of life at just prices, and that they should supply such
help as was necessary for my investigations. In addition to the orders
from the _jefes_ to the town authorities, I carried a general letter
from the governor of the state to officials of every grade within its
limits. This was done in case I should at any time reach towns in
districts where I had been unable to see the _jefe politico_. It was
desirable, when possible, that the _jefe_ should be seen before serious
work was undertaken. As Governor Gonzales of Oaxaca once remarked,
when furnishing me a general letter: "You should always see the _jefe
politico_ of the district first. These Indians know nothing of me, and
often will not recognize my name; but the _jefe_ of their district they
know, and his orders they will obey." In using these official orders, I
adopted whatever methods were best calculated to gain my ends; success
depended largely on my taking matters into my own hands. Each official
practically unloaded me upon the next below him, with the expectation
that I should gain my ends, if possible, but at the same time he felt,
and I knew, that his responsibility had ended. In case of serious
difficulty, I could not actually count upon the backing of any one above
the official with whom I then was dealing.
Upon the Guatemala expedition, which took place in January-March, 1896,
my only companion was Mr. Ernst Lux, whose knowledge of the language,
the country, and the people was of the utmost value. As the result of
that journey, my vacations through a period of four years were devoted
to this field of research. The first field expedition covered the
period from November, 1897, to the end of March, 1898; the plan of work
included the visiting of a dozen or more tribes, with interpreter,
photographer, and plaster-worker; the success of the plan depended upon
others. Dr. W.D. Powell was to serve as interpreter, Mr. Bedros
Tatarian as photographer; at the last moment the plans regarding the
plaster-worker failed; arrived in the field, Dr. Powell was unable to
carry out his contract; the photographic work disintegrated, and failure
stared us in the face. Reorganization took place. Rev. D.A. Wilson was
secured as interpreter, two Mexican plaster-workers, Anselmo Pacheco of
Puebla and Ramon Godinez of Guadalajara, were discovered, and work was
actually carried through upon four tribes. The second field expedition
covered the period of January-March, 1899; eight tribes were visited,
and a most successful season's work was done; Charles B. Lang was
photographer, Anselmo Pacheco plaster-worker, and Manuel Gonzales
general helper. The third field season, January-March, 1900, was in
every way successful, six populations being visited; my force consisted
of Louis Grabic photographer, Ramon Godinez plaster-worker, and Manuel
Gonzales general assistant. The work was brought to a conclusion in
January-March, 1901, during which period six tribes were visited; the
party was the same as the preceding year.
"In Indian Mexico" claims to be only a narrative of travel and of work.
It is intended for the general public. The scientific results of our
expeditions have been published under the following titles:
1. The Indians of Southern Mexico: an Ethnographic Album. Chicago, 1899.
Cloth; oblong 4to; pp. 32. 141 full-page plates.
2. Notes upon the Ethnography of Southern Mexico. 1900. 8vo, pp. 98. 72
cuts, maps, etc. Proc. Dav. Acad. Nat. Sci., Vol. VIII.
3. Notes on the Ethnography of Southern Mexico, Part II. 1902. 8vo, pp.
109. 52 cuts, map, etc. Proc. Dav. Acad. Nat. Sci., Vol. IX.
4. The Physical Characters of the Indians of Southern Mexico. 4to,
59 pp. Sketch map, color diagram, and 30 double cuts. Decennial
Publications, University of Chicago, 1902.
5. The Mapa de Cuauhtlantzinco or Codice Campos. 1898. 8vo, pp. 38. 46
engravings. University of Chicago Press.
6. Recent Mexican Study of the Native Languages of Mexico. 1900. 8vo,
pp. 19. 7 portraits.
7. Picture of Otomi woman beating bark paper. Printed on sheet of the
original paper; mounted.
8. The Mapa of Huilotepec. Reproduction; single sheet, mounted.
9. The Mapa of Huauhtla. Reproduction; single sheet, mounted.
10. Survivals of Paganism in Mexico. The Open Court. 1899.
11. Mexican Paper. American Antiquarian. 1900.
12. The Sacral Spot in Maya Indians. Science. 1903.
Naturally, in a work of such extent we have been under obligation
to many parties. It is impossible to acknowledge, in detail, such
obligations. We must, however, express our indebtedness, for assistance
rendered, to the Mexican Central Railroad, the Mexican Railway, the
Mexican National Railroad, the Tehuantepec Railroad, the Mexican
Southern Railroad, and the Interoceanic Railroad; also to the Ward
Line of steamers. Among individuals, it is no unfair discrimination to
express especial thanks to Mr. A.A. Robinson and Mr. A.L. Van Antwerp.
President Diaz has ever shown a friendly interest in my plans of work
and the results obtained. Señor Manuel Fernandez Leal, Minister of the
Department of Fomento, more than any other official, lent us every aid
and assistance in his power; his successor, Señor Leandro Fernandez,
continued the kindness shown by Minister Leal. And to all the governors
of the states and to the _jefes_ of the districts we are under many
obligations, and express to each and all our appreciation of their
kind assistance. Those personal friends who have been helpful in this
specific work in Indian Mexico are mentioned in the appropriate places
in the text. To those companions and assistants who accompanied us upon
the journeys a large part of the results of this work are due.
CHICAGO, January, 1908.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER Page
I. PRIESTLY ARCHAEOLOGY 1
II. WE START FOR GUATEMALA 13
III. THE LAND OF THE MIXES 22
IV. THROUGH CHIAPAS 39
V. AT HUIXQUILUCAN 56
VI. LAKE PATZCUARO 68
VII. TO URUAPAN BEFORE THE RAILROAD 76
VIII. TLAXCALA 85
IX. ZAMORA AND THE ONCE PUEBLOS 95
X. THE BOY WITH THE SMILE 108
XI. IN THE MIXTECA ALTA 112
XII. THE MIXES REVISITED 142
XIII. ABOUT TEHUANTEPEC 161
XIV. ON THE MAIN HIGH-ROAD 173
XV. CUICATLAN 181
XVI. IN TLAXCALAN TOWNS 188
XVII. IN THE CHINANTLA 198
XVIII. TO COIXTLAHUACA 216
XIX. HUAUHTLA AND THE MAZATECS 228
XX. TEPEHUAS AND TOTONACS 239
XXI. IN THE HUAXTECA 274
XXII. IN MAYA LAND 293
XXIII. OX-CART EXPERIENCES 328
XXIV. AT TUXTLA GUTIERREZ 351
XXV. TZOTZILS AND TZENDALS 360
XXVI. CHOLS 381
XXVII. CONCLUSION 395
GLOSSARY 399
APPENDIX 405
IN INDIAN MEXICO
CHAPTER I
PRIESTLY ARCHAEOLOGY
(1895)
While we stood in the Puebla station, waiting for the train to be made
ready, we noticed a priest, who was buying his ticket at the office. On
boarding the train, we saw nothing of him, as he had entered another
car. Soon after we started, Herman made his usual trip of inspection
through the train, and on his return told me that a learned priest was
in the second-class coach, and that I ought to know him. As I paid no
great attention to his suggestion, he soon deserted me for his priestly
friend, but presently returned and renewed his advice. He told me this
priest was no common man; that he was an ardent archaeologist; that he
not only collected relics, but made full notes and diagrams of all his
investigations; that he cared for live Indians also, and had made a
great collection of dress, weapons, and tools, among Guatemalan tribes.
When I even yet showed no intention of hurrying in to visit his new
acquaintance, the boy said: "You must come in to see him, for I promised
him you would, and you ought not to prove me to be a liar."
This appeal proved effectual and I soon called upon the priestly
archaeologist in the other car. He was an interesting man. By birth
a German, he spoke excellent English; born of Protestant parents and
reared in their faith, in early manhood be became a Catholic; renounced
by his parents and left without support, he was befriended by Jesuits
and determined to become a priest. Entering the ministry at twenty-nine
years of age, he was sent as mission priest to foreign lands. He had
lived in California, Utah, and Nevada; he had labored in Ecuador,
Panama, and Guatemala. His interest in archaeology, kindled in the
Southwest, continued in his later fields of labor. Waxing confidential
he said: "I am a priest first, because I must live, but it does not
interfere much with my archaeology." For years past the padre has lived
in Guatemala, where he had charge of one of the largest parishes in that
Republic, with some eighteen thousand full-blood indians in his charge.
Like most Germans a linguist, the padre spoke German, French, Spanish,
English, and Quiche, the most important indian speech of Guatemala. In
his parish, he so arranged his work as to leave most of his time free
for investigation. Twice a week he had baptisms, on Thursday and Sunday;
these duties on Thursday took but a couple of hours, leaving the rest of
the day free; Sundays, of course, were lost, but not completely, for the
indians often then told him of new localities, where diggings might be
undertaken. Always when digging into ancient mounds and graves, he had
his horse near by ready for mounting, and his oil and other necessaries
at hand, in case he should be summoned to the bedside of the dying. As
the indians always knew where to look for him, no time was lost.
Not only was the padre an archaeologist: he also gathered plants, birds,
and insects. When he was leaving Germany, his nephew, the ten-year-old
child of his sister, wished to accompany him. The parents refused their
permission, but the uncle gave the boy some money, and they met each
other in Frankfort and started on their journey. They have been together
ever since. The padre depends completely on the younger man, whom he has
fashioned to his mind. The plants, birdskins, and insects have supplied
a steady income. The plants cost labor; insects were easier to get. All
the indian boys in the parish were supplied with poison-bottles and set
to work; a stock of prints of saints, beads, medals, and crucifixes was
doled out to the little collectors, according to the value of their
trophies. To allay the suspicions of his parishioners, the padre
announced that he used the insects in making medicines. One Sunday a
pious old indian woman brought to church a great beetle, which she had
caught in her corn field four days before; during that time it had been
tied by a string to her bed's leg; she received a medal. One day a man
brought a bag containing some five hundred living insects; on opening
it, they all escaped into the house, causing a lively time for their
recapture.
The nephew, Ernst, had made a collection of eleven hundred skins of
Guatemalan birds. The padre and he have supplied specimens to many of
the great museums of the world, but the choicest things have never been
permitted to leave their hands.
The padre is a great success at getting into trouble. He fled from
Ecuador on account of political difficulties; his stay in Guatemala is
the longest he has ever made in one place. During his eight years there
he was successful; but he finally antagonized the government, was
arrested, and thrown into jail. He succeeded in escaping, fled to
Salvador, and from there made his way to the United States, where, for a
little time, he worked, unhappily, at San Antonio, Texas. A short
time since, the Archbishop of Oaxaca was in Texas, met the padre, and
promised him an appointment in his diocese. The padre was now on his way
to Oaxaca to see the prelate and receive his charge.
He was full of hope for a happy future. When he learned that we were
bound for the ruins of Mitla, he was fired with a desire to accompany
us. At Oaxaca we separated, going to different hotels. My party was
counting upon the company of Mr. Lucius Smith, as interpreter and
companion, to the ruins, but we were behind our appointment and he had
gone upon another expedition. This delighted the padre, who saw a new
light upon the path of duty. The archbishop had received him cordially,
and had given him a parish, although less than a day had passed since
his arrival. When the padre knew of our disappointment, he hastened to
his prelate, told him that an eminent American archaeologist, with a
party of four, wished to visit Mitla, but had no interpreter; might he
not accompany these worthy gentlemen, in some way serving mother church
by doing so? So strong was his appeal, that he was deputed to say mass
at Mitla Sunday, starting for his new parish of Chila on the Monday
following.
In the heavy, lumbering coach we left next morning, Saturday, for Mitla.
The road, usually deep with dust, was in fair condition on account of
recent rains. We arrived in the early afternoon and at once betook
ourselves to the ruins. At the curacy, we presented the archbishop's
letter to the indian cura, who turned it over once or twice, then asked
the padre to read it, as his eyes were bad. While the reading proceeded,
the old man listened with wonder, and then exclaimed, "What a learned
man you are to read like that!" As we left, the padre expressed his
feelings at the comeliness of the old priest's indian housekeeper, at
the number of her children, at the suspicious wideness of his bed, and
at his ignorance, in wearing a ring, for all the world just like a
bishop's. But he soon forgot his pious irritation amid those marvelous
ruins of past grandeur. In our early ramble he lost no opportunity to
tell the indians that he would repeat mass on the morrow at seven, and
that they should make a special effort to be present.
[Illustration: WITH THE PADRE IN MITLA RUINS]
[Illustration: THE PADRE, ERNST AND THE DOGS]
But as we wandered from one to another of the ancient buildings, the
thought of the morrow's duty lost its sweetness. He several times
remarked that it was a great pity to lose any of our precious morning
hours in saying mass, when there were ruins of such interest to be seen.
These complaints gained in force and frequency as evening approached,
until finally, as we sat at supper, he announced his decision to say
mass before daybreak; he would call me at five o'clock, we would go
directly to the church, we would be through service before six, would
take our morning's coffee immediately after, and then would have quite a
piece of the morning left for the ruins, before the coach should leave
for Oaxaca.
The plan was carried out in detail. At five we were called from our beds
by the anxious padre. Herman and I were the only members of the party
who were sufficiently devout to care to hear mass so early. With the
padre, we stumbled in the darkness up to the church, where we roused the
old woman who kept the key and the boy who rang the bell. The vestments
were produced, the padre hastily robed, and the bell rung; the padre was
evidently irritated at the absence of a congregation, as he showed by
the rapid and careless way in which he repeated the first part of the
service. When, however, at the _Credo_, he turned and saw that several
poor indians had quietly crept in, a change came over him; his tone
became fuller, his manner more dignified, and the service itself more
impressive and decorous. Still, we were through long before six, and
throwing off his vestments, which he left the boy to put away, the padre
seized me by the arm, and we hastened down the hill to our morning's
coffee. On the way we met a number of indians on their way to mass,
whom the padre sternly rebuked for their laziness and want of devotion.
Immediately after coffee, we were among the ruins.
The padre had kindly arranged for my presentation to his Grace,
Archbishop Gillow. Reaching Oaxaca late on Sunday afternoon, we called
at the Palace. His Grace is a man of good presence, with a face of some
strength and a courteous and gracious manner. He appeared to be about
fifty-five years of age. After the padre had knelt and kissed the ring,
the archbishop invited us to be seated, expressed an interest in our
trip to Mitla, hoping that it had proved successful. He then spoke at
some length in regard to his diocese. He emphasized its diversity in
climate and productions, the wide range of its plant life, the great
number of indian tribes which occupied it, the Babel of tongues within
it, its vast mineral wealth. A Mexican by birth, the archbishop is, in
part, of English blood and was educated, as a boy, in England. He speaks
English easily and well. He showed us many curious and interesting
things. Among these was a cylindrical, box-like figure of a rain-god,
which was found by a priest upon his arrival at the Mixe Indian village
of Mixistlan.[A] It was in the village church, at the high altar where
it shared worship with the virgin and the crucifix. The archbishop
himself, in his description of the incident, used the word _latria_.
We were also shown a little cross, which stood upon the archbishop's
writing-table, made in part from a fragment of that miraculous cross,
which was found by Sir Francis Drake, upon the west coast. That
"terrible fanatic" tried to destroy it, according to a well-known story.
The cross was found standing when the Spaniards first arrived and is
commonly attributed to St. Thomas. Sir Francis upon seeing this emblem
of a hated faith, first gave orders to hew it down with axes; but axes
were not sharp enough to harm it. Fires were then kindled to burn it,
but had no effect. Ropes were attached to it and many men were set to
drag it from the sand; but all their efforts could not move it. So it
was left standing, and from that time became an object of especial
veneration. Time, however, destroys all things. People were constantly
breaking off bits of the sacred emblem for relics until so little was
left of the trunk near the ground that it was deemed necessary to remove
the cross. The diggers were surprised to find that it had never set more
than a foot into the sand. This shows the greatness of the miracle.
[A] Survivals of Paganism in Mexico. The Open Court. 1899.
The padre had been assigned to the parish of Chila, a great indian town,
near Tehuacan. Early the next morning he left for his new home.
Not only did the padre, while in Oaxaca, urge us to call upon him in
his new parish; after he was settled, he renewed his invitation. So we
started for Chila. We had been in the _tierra caliente_, at Cordoba.
From there we went by rail to Esperanza, from which uninteresting town
we took a street-car line, forty-two miles long, to Tehuacan. This saved
us time, distance, and money, and gave us a brand-new experience. There
were three coaches on our train, first-, second-, and third-class. When
buying tickets we struck acquaintance with a Syrian peddler. Three of
these were travelling together; one of them spoke a little English,
being proficient in profanity. He likes the United States, _per se_, and
does not like Mexico; but he says the latter is the better for trade.
"In the United States, you sell maybe fifteen, twenty-five, fifty cents
a day; here ten, fifteen, twenty-five dollars." The trip lasted three
hours and involved three changes of mules at stations, where we found
all the excitement and bustle of a true railroad station.
The country was, at first, rolling, with a sparse growth of yuccas, many
of which were exceptionally large and fine. On the hills were occasional
_haciendas_. This broken district was succeeded by a genuine desert,
covered with fine dust, which rose, as we rode, in suffocating clouds.
Here the valley began to close in upon us and its slopes were sprinkled
with great cushion cactuses in strange and grotesque forms. After this
desert gorge, we came out into a more open and more fertile district
extending to Tehuacan. Even this, however, was dry and sunburned.
Our party numbered four. We had written and telegraphed to the padre
and expected that he, or Ernst, would meet us in Tehuacan. Neither was
there. No one seemed to know just how far it was to Chila. Replies to
our inquiries ranged from five to ten leagues.[B] Looking for some mode
of conveyance, we refused a coach, offered at fifteen pesos, as the
price seemed high. Hunting horses, we found four, which with a foot
_mozo_ to bring them back, would cost twenty pesos. Telling the owner
that we were not buying horses, but merely renting, we returned to the
proprietor of the coach and stated that we would take it, though his
price was high, and that he should send it without delay to the railroad
station, where our companions were waiting. Upon this the owner of the
coach pretended that he had not understood that there were four of us
(though we had plainly so informed him); his price was for two. If we
were four, he must have forty pesos. A fair price here might be eight
pesos for the coach, or four for horses. So we told the coach owner
that we would walk to Chila, rather than submit to such extortion.
This amused him greatly and he made some facetious observations, which
determined me to actually perform the trip on foot. Returning to the
railroad station, where two of the party were waiting, I announced my
intention of walking to Chila; as the way was long and the sand heavy
and the padre's silence and non-appearance boded no great hospitality in
welcome, I directed the rest to remain comfortably at Tehuacan until my
return on the next day. Herman, however, refused the proposition; my
scheme was dangerous; for me to go alone, at night, over a strange road,
to Chila was foolhardy; he should accompany me to protect me. Consenting
that he should accompany, we began to seek a _mozo_, as guide to
Chila. With difficulty, and some loss of time, one was found who would
undertake the business for two pesos. In vain a Jew peddler standing by
and the station agent remonstrated with the man; two pesos was a full
week's wages; it was ridiculous to demand such a price for guiding two
foot travellers to Chila. He admitted that two pesos might be a week's
wages; but he did not have to go to Chila and if we wanted him to do so
we must pay his price. We capitulated, the station agent loaned us a
revolver, we left our friends behind us and started on our journey. It
was now dark. In a mysterious voice, our guide said we must go first to
his house; there he secured his _serape_ and a heavy club. As we left
his house he feared we must be hungry and indicated a bread-shop; we
purchased and all three ate as we walked; a moment later he suggested
that we would need _cigarros_ of course, and a stock of these were
added, at our expense. Then, at last, we came down to business.
[B] The Mexican league is 2.7 miles.
Plainly our guide did not enjoy his task. Shortly after we started, the
moon rose and, from its shining full on the light sand, it was almost
as bright as day. We were in single file, our guide, Herman, and I. At
sight of every bush or indistinct object, our guide clutched his club
and crossed himself, as he mumbled a prayer. When we met anyone, we
kept strictly to our side of the road, they to theirs, and, in passing,
barely exchanged a word of greeting. The timidity and terror of our
guide increased as we advanced, until I concluded to be prepared for any
emergency and carried the revolver in my hand, instead of in my pocket.
Mile after mile we trudged along through the heavy sand, into which we
sunk so far that our low shoes repeatedly became filled and we had to
stop to take them off and empty them. We passed through San Pablo, left
the Hacienda of San Andres to one hand, and, finally, at 10:10 found
ourselves in the great indian town of San Gabriel de Chila. It was much
larger than we had anticipated and almost purely indian. We walked
through a considerable portion of the town before we reached the plaza,
the church, and the _curato_. Our journey had probably been one of
fifteen miles. All was dark at the _curato_; an indian was sleeping in
the corridor, but he was a traveller and gave us no information on being
awakened. At our third or fourth pounding upon the door, Ernst appeared
at the window; on learning who we were he hastened to let us in. He
reported trouble in the camp; the padre had gone hastily to Oaxaca to
see the archbishop; our telegram had not been received; our letter came
that morning. We found that things were packed ready for removal. A good
supper was soon ready, but while it was being prepared we took a cool
bath, by moonlight, in the trough bath-tub out in the _patio_.
In the morning we heard the full story. Formerly there was here a
priest, who devoted his whole life to this parish, growing old in its
service; in his old age he was pensioned, with sixty pesos monthly from
the parish receipts. The priest who succeeded him, coming something
over three years ago, was a much younger man. During his three years of
service, he was continually grumbling; the work was hard, his health was
bad at Chila, the heat was intolerable; he wished another parish. The
archbishop finally took him at his word; without warning he transferred
him to another parish, and sent our friend, the archaeologist here, in
his place. This did not suit the man relieved; Chila itself was much to
his liking; what he really wanted was to be relieved from the support
of his superannuated predecessor. No sooner was he transferred than he
began to look with longing on his former charge and to make a vigorous
effort to regain it. Accusations were hurried to Oaxaca; the new priest
was pursuing agriculture as a means of profit; he had not paid the dues
to the aged priest; he had himself admitted to parishioners that his
object in coming to Chila was more to study antiquities and natural
history than to preach the gospel. It is claimed that, immediately on
receiving this communication, the archbishop sent a peremptory letter to
the padre demanding an explanation; this letter, Ernst said, never was
delivered, hence no explanation was sent. The prelate acted promptly;
orders were sent to our friend to give up the parish to the former
priest, who appeared on the scene to receive his charge. Then, and then
only, it is said the delayed letter came to light. The padre had left,
at once, for Oaxaca and his archbishop. From there he sent messages
by telegraph: "Pack up, and come to Tehuacan;" "Wait until you hear
further." A third came the morning we were there: "Pack up; meet me at
Tehuacan, ready to go to a new parish."
It was really sad to look about the new home, to which he had come with
such buoyant hopes and of which he had been so soon dispossessed. When
he arrived, the place was neglected and filthy; two whole days were
necessary to clean it. It had contained practically no furniture; he
had made it look like a place in which to live. He had improved and
beautified its surroundings. He had planted a little corn and set out
some young banana trees; he had gathered many species of cactus from the
neighboring hills and had built up a fine bed of the strange plants
in his _patio_. Passionately fond of pets, he had two magnificent
greyhounds and a pug--all brought from Guatemala--a black collie, doves,
hens and turkeys on the place. And now, he was again without a home and
his time, money, and labor were lost.
Ernst accompanied us to Tehuacan. We rented three horses and a man on
foot went with us to bring them back to the village. And for the whole
we paid the regular price of eighty-seven centavos--twenty-five each for
the animals, and twelve centavos for the man--something less than the
twenty pesos demanded the day before at Tehuacan.