IN TLAXCALAN TOWNS
(1900)
A street-car line, running for most of the distance down hill, connects
Santa Ana with Tlaxcala, the towns being separated by seven miles. When
making this little journey to Tlaxcala in January, 1897, we noticed
in the car with us, a stout, purely indian man, who seemed anxious
to engage us in conversation. Knowing a few words of English, he was
particularly anxious to practice them. He called our attention to the
various villages, streams, and mountains in the country through which
we were passing, and took delight in analyzing the native names and
explaining their meanings. When we were returning in the afternoon, we
met a gentleman who had been in the same car with us in the morning, and
we inquired regarding our indian acquaintance. He told us that he was
a full-blooded indian, whose native tongue was Aztec, and who lived in
Santa Ana. Being the child of poor parents, the state had assisted in
his education; he was now studying law in the city of Puebla. He was
also a musician, and on this occasion had been upon his way to a public
appointment, where he was to sing.
Later, in Puebla, we called upon this gentleman, whose name we found was
Quechol, meaning a bird with a crooked neck, perhaps a flamingo. He was
interested in our study, and said we ought some time to visit the indian
towns of his people upon the slopes of Malintzi. In January, 1900,
having been delayed in our plans, we decided to spend a few days in
Tlaxcala, and secured his company. Our preparations were made at Santa
Ana; at the home of his parents we were hospitably welcomed, and
chocolate and bread were furnished, before we started on our journey.
While this refreshment was preparing, we visited the old church, in
front of which stood an aged cypress tree, hung with gray moss and
blazing with red flowers. We also entered some of the houses, where,
on domestic looms, the _serapes_ for which the town is famous are
manufactured. We visited also a private school for girls, established by
a Señor Barela, who is noted as the first to introduce the industry of
weaving wool into this community. While the memory of this gentleman
is held in high esteem by this people, that of his wife is by no means
savory. It seems that she was an avaricious, vain and selfish woman,
with no sympathy for his schemes for the betterment of the people. Her
feeling was well known, and she died heartily hated by all. When the
time came for her burial, the grave was prepared, and her body placed
within it. But the earth twice refused to receive the corpse. It was
then carried to to the Sawapa, near by, and thrown into its waters. The
stream overflowed its banks, and tossed the body upon the ground; again
the effort was made to thus dispose of it, but again it was thrown upon
the shore. It was then suggested that it be carried to "the Cuezcomate,"
an extinct geyser-crater, famous through all the country, and popularly
believed to be the mouth of hell; when the body was thrown into this
opening, it is said the devils were seen to swarm upward to receive it.
It was almost noon as our little party started on foot in the direction
of Malintzi. Our indian friend, his brother, a white friend, our
photographer, our Mexican boy and ourself, made up the party, and we
were followed by three _mozos_ on foot carrying supplies of food. We
struck out over a sandy plain, where the foot sunk deep into dry sand,
until we finally reached a well-built wall of stone, considered in the
district a notable piece of engineering. It was constructed to turn the
course of a little stream which, in times of flood, has frequently done
damage to the town. From here, our trail led us on through the sandy
pine-scrub, broken now and then by narrow gullies, called _barrancas_,
with almost vertical sides. In every case, we were obliged to descend
into these gullies and climb out upon the other side. After one and a
half hours of walking we reached the village of San Pedro, where we
stopped for dinner. The two Americans accompanying us lay down upon the
ground, completely tired out, and were fast asleep within five minutes.
Manuel assisted the local cook in preparing dinner, while we talked with
visitors until the meal was ready. The houses of San Pedro are well
constructed of stone, set in adobe, and have well-thatched roofs. The
granaries, or _cuezcomates_, are of unusual size and well built. They
range from six or eight feet in height to twelve or more, and are shaped
like great urns, open at the top, which is protected by a thatch,
generally two-pitched. The _temascals_ were also unusually well built of
stone, and frequently were neatly covered with white plaster. Soon
after leaving San Pedro, in the afternoon, we came upon two indian boys
digging in the ground. Inquiring what they were doing, we learned that
they were hunting honey-ants, and in a moment our whole party was
engaged in the same operation. These ants were found some inches below
the surface, either singly, or in roundish holes containing half a dozen
or more; the abdomen was swelled until it was as round as a pea and as
large as a fair-sized currant, and was filled with honey. To get the
sweet liquid, one takes the insect by the head or forward body and
pressing the honey bag sucks out the contents. It is sweet and rich,
with a little twang, as if fermented, and people in the district call
it honey-wine. Three quarters of an hour brought us to San Francisco,
though we had to go down and up two large _barrancas_ before we reached
the town. It was almost sunset when we arrived. Sitting down before
the town-house, we sent for the _agente_. Soon after our arrival the
church-bell rang furiously, and the din and clangor was kept up a long
time. While waiting for the official, supper was prepared, though we had
had some difficulty in arranging for it, and were in doubt as to where
we were to spend the night. Before supper was ready, a motley crowd
poured into the room in which we sat. One large fellow carried a great
sword strapped at his side, another bore a short sword, another a knife,
another a large and ancient gun. Probably there were other weapons not
in sight. This group of indians was the _agente_ and his _guardia_. We
were objects of suspicion, and much argument, and an abundant supply of
_huitzatl_--strong drink--were necessary, before we secured permission
to spend the night at the house where we were to have supper. No sooner
had this company withdrawn and supper been eaten, than we prepared for
bed. One wooden bed, with a mat of rushes, served for Señor Quechol and
myself. A second mat, laid on the floor, formed the bed for our four
companions. In the morning, we took a walk to Akxotla, where we wished
to see an ancient painting. Here we encountered greater suspicion than
before, and, after wasting the greater part of the day, accomplished
nothing. It is true an indian made a _camalpa_ for us. This is a
stringed musical instrument; though the name is Aztec, it is unlikely
that it was known before the coming of the Spaniards. Quechol says the
word means mouth-harp, coming from the Aztec _cam_, mouth, and the
Spanish _harpa,_ harp. We returned to San Francisco for our dinner, and
at four o'clock again started on our journey.
It was after five before we reached San Bartolome. As we drew near the
village, we saw a magnificent double rainbow, brilliantly displayed
upon the eastern sky against a cloud of almost inky blackness. Looking
westward, as we entered the village, we saw the sun setting in a sea of
gold, between Popocatapetl and Ixtaccihuatl. Watching this magnificent
sunset, we sat down before the old church, and almost instantly a
crowd gathered to see what the strangers might want. Don Romualdo, in
wandering through the village, found a _temascal_ in use, and hurrying
to us, led us to see the method of its use. It is a dome-shaped
structure, with an entrance so low that one must crawl upon his hands
and knees in entering; it is a sweat-bath, used for cleanliness and
health. A quick fire, built inside, heats it thoroughly, after which
water is thrown upon the hot stones to produce steam. Four persons, of
both sexes, were in the one in question, taking a sweat-bath. When we
returned to our companions, sitting before the church, an indian of the
village, accosting Don Romualdo, claimed to know him; he also claimed my
acquaintance, and reminded me that he had been one of the subjects I had
measured two years before in Tlaxcala. A score or more of natives had
gathered, in the moonlight, around our party. Having heard some indians
singing, we tried to get these to sing some native songs. Only after
Louis and Frank had sung some English songs, which were well received,
were we able to hear Aztec songs in exchange. After a long delay, we
were taken to the schoolhouse for supper and the night, and spent the
balance of the evening in taking down a native song, _The Tlaxcalteca_,
and witnessing a dance which accompanied it. A bed was made up for the
party by putting various benches and tables together.
[Illustration: TLAXCALAN HOUSE WITH TEMASCAL.]
[Illustration: THE MAPAHO IN USE; SAN JUAN ZAUTLA]
Most of the following day was spent in visiting in the village,
purchasing idols and in making notes on life and customs; at four
o'clock in the afternoon, we set out for Ixcotla. Near sunset we reached
the house of Quechol's uncle, old Isidro. Almost eighty years of age, he
was straight and lithe as a man of thirty. His house and all the lesser
buildings of his place were excellent and in fine condition. A flight
of steps led to the flat roof, from which we watched the sunset. In the
yard, were half a dozen hives for bees, made from the stocks of the
_maguéy_. The old man was rich, and owned other houses, but he lives
alone, his wife being dead and his daughters married. He is a master of
the Aztec, and uses it in its most poetical and figurative style. He
does not speak like common men, but his conversation abounds in metaphor
and flowers of speech. When once one spoke to him of his lonely and
solitary life, he said, "Alone and solitary! No, we are three! There are
here myself, my good angel, and my bad angel. I am never alone." Isidro
knows all the boundaries of the fields, and can trace all the titles,
and is frequently appealed to in land disputes, and even in law cases,
is summoned to give testimony. He received us heartily, offered
cigarettes and ordered supper. To refresh us, he broke fresh leaves from
the orange-tree and steeped them in hot water, sweetening with sugar.
After supper, good beds were made upon the floor, with plenty of mats
and blankets.
We had hardly risen in the morning, when the village was thrown into
great excitement by the appearance of a band of soldiers. They had come
to arrest a young man supposed to be a leader in the local opposition to
Governor Cahuantzi. This opposition was just at fever heat; the election
was approaching, and a fierce effort was being made to oust the
governor. Forty-four towns were in open rebellion, among them, all of
those which we had visited. There had been new laws passed regarding
land and taxes; these had been resisted. The governor had threatened
to send engineers to make new surveys, and to bring land-titles into
question. The suspicion and distrust which we had met were doubtless, in
large part, due to these measures, and the fear that we were government
spies. So great was the discontent, and so openly expressed, that it was
said that on the Saturday preceding, in the Plaza of Tlaxcala itself,
there was a riot, with cries of derision and contempt, and firing of
guns upon the palace. We were told that the nearest _haciendero_, who
was friendly to the governor, was marked for assassination and would be
killed within the next few days.
Leaving at ten next morning, we skirted Santa Ana, and, having passed
through San Pablo, came out upon the banks of the Sawapa. This pretty
stream has reputed remedial power, and in May hundreds of people bathe
in its waters, to protect themselves against small-pox. As we crossed
the great stone bridge, we met a drunken indian who attached himself to
our party. Between him and the Mexican members of our party, there arose
hostility and an exchange of angry words. To us, personally, he was
maudlinly affectionate and respectful. Finally, shaking him off, after
climbing a considerable height, we stopped at Belen for a noonday rest
and lunch. Dinner having been ordered, we seated ourselves in the shade,
when our drunken friend again appeared upon the scene, and in great
excitement, begged me to move, as it was certain death for a heated and
perspiring person to sit in the shadow of a Peru tree. So persistent was
he, that Quehcol and Manuel lost all patience, and ordered the local
officials to arrest him.
About the middle of the afternoon we were again upon the road; having
passed the bare, fortress-like church of San Mateo, and descended a long
hill, toward evening we crossed a fine bridge over a gorge of black
basaltic rock, and shortly reached Santa Maria Atlihuitzia, where we
planned to spend the night. Here is a fine old church, with a façade
absolutely covered with elaborate carving; a square tower rises at one
corner. The great altar is a magnificent piece of carving and gold
work; the windows are set with thin slabs of onyx. Within, near the
church-door, are two paintings representing the scene of mayrtrdom for
which the town is famous. These pictures are ancient, and represent some
interesting details of indian life at the time of the Conquest. The
head-dress and mantle of feathers worn by the old chieftain, the dress
and hair-dressing of his wife, war weapons and buildings are all shown.
Here, in 1527, the boy Cristoval, child of the great chief Acxotecatl
and his wife Apalxitzin, was killed by his father because he would not
renounce Christianity. The little lad was only thirteen years of age,
and had been trained by Spanish priests. He was the proto-martyr of
the new world, and the story of his martyrdom and the early church in
Tlaxcala, have been charmingly narrated by Mendieta. Close by the church
stand the ruined walls of the monastery, impressive for their massive
construction and the enormous space which was enclosed. It was dark
before we finished the examination of these quaint and interesting
old buildings, and we were glad enough to go to the house of the
_secretario_, where we found good beds and elaborate furniture. In the
room where we were to sleep there was a _nacimiento_, made in connection
with the Christmas season. The table was covered with little landscapes,
scattered over which were figures of many kinds, including a group of
San Jose, Maria, and the infant Christ.
Santa Maria is purely _mestizo_. In the morning, finding breakfast
somewhat slow, we started for a walk, and passing by the old church,
came shortly to the spot where the boy martyr was killed. From here we
descended, over a long slope of gray tufa, to a pretty stream flowing
through black basalt. The rock is hard and shiny with cells or
air-bubbles scattered through its mass. Close by the water's edge we
were shown some curious impressions, on the nearly level surface of the
rock, which were said to be the imprints of the knees of the Holy Virgin
as she knelt here to wash clothes in the brook; there are also grooves
made by the Virgin's fingers as she scrubbed the clothing on the rock;
by the side of these impressions are two hollows, marking the spot where
the Holy Child sat with its mother as she worked. On the rock behind
is the impression of a mule's foot. Formerly there were two of these
impressions, but in 1888 a tornado broke away the mass of rock, on which
was the other impression. Just below this place the stream leaps in a
pretty cascade which, with its white foam, contrasts strikingly with the
black rock. The trail followed by Cortez on his way from Vera Cruz to
Tlaxcala was pointed out to us and we were told that Atlihuitzia in
those days was an important city, numbering five thousand _solteros_
(unmarried men). On the way back to the village, we visited the _arbol
huerfano_--orphan tree--a cypress, so called because it is the only tree
of its kind in this district. Quechol says that a long line of such
trees, at a distance of several leagues apart, was planted by the
Spaniards, and he and the villagers mentioned a number of them in
different places. Passing once more by the spot of martyrdom, a white
_capulin_ was pointed out, as being the very tree represented in the
picture of the killing.
It was now almost ten o'clock and we found breakfast waiting. At
Quechol's request, it was a purely Mexican meal, consisting of
Aztec dishes. We had _tamales_, _atole_, and, for the first time,
_champurado_. The latter is _atole_--corn gruel--mixed with chocolate,
and is really an excellent dish. After breakfast, we left our friends of
Atlihuitzia and hastened back over the same road past San Mateo, Belen,
San Pablo, and Santa Ana. The way was long and the sun was hot, but the
road was beguiled with many stories regarding the places that we passed,
for the whole state of Tlaxcala abounds in legend.