Journey to Jalacho.--Execrable Roads.--Sight of Ruins at Sennisacal.--A
motley Multitude.--Village of Becal.--The
Cura.--Breakfast.--Ruins.--Arrival at Jalacho.--A great Fair.--Fete
of Santiago.--Miracles.--Figure of St. James.--Bull-fight and
Bull-fighters.--Horse-market.--Scenes in the
Plaza.--Gambling.---Primitive Circulating Medium.--A Memorial of
Home.--A Ball.--Search for Ruins.--Hacienda of Sijoh.--Mounds of
Ruins.--Remarkable Stones.--A long Edifice.--Hacienda of
Tankuche.--More Ruins.--A plastered Wall covered with
Paintings.--Annoyance from Garrapatas.--Return to the
Village.--Ball.--Fireworks.--Condition of the Indians.
Having made such advances in the clearing that Mr. Catherwood had
abundance of occupation, on Thursday, the 18th of November, I set out,
under the guidance of the mayoral, on an excursion to meet Don Simon
Peon at the fair of Jalacho, and visit some ruins on another hacienda
of his in that neighbourhood. We started at half past six, our course
being west by north. At ten minutes past seven we crossed a _serrania_
or range of hills, about a hundred and fifty feet high, and came down
upon an extensive savanna of low, flat land, a mere cane-brake. The
road was the worst I had found in the country, being simply a wet and
very muddy path for mules and horses to the fair. My horse sunk up to
his saddle-girths, and it was with great exertion that he dragged
himself through. Every moment I had fear of his rolling over in the
mud, and in some places I was strongly reminded of the _malos pasos_ in
Central America. Occasionally the branches were barely high enough to
allow mules to pass, and then I was obliged to dismount, and trudge
through the mud on foot. At eight o'clock we came to an open savanna,
and saw a high mound with ruins on the top, bearing south, about a mile
distant. It was called, as the mayoral said, Senuisacal. I was strongly
tempted to turn aside and examine it, but, on account of the thickness
of the cane-brake and the mud, it would have been impossible to reach
it, and the mayoral said that it was entirely in ruins.
In half an hour we came into a clear and open country, and at ten we
entered the camino real for Jalacho, a broad and open road, passable
for calesas. Up to this time we had not seen a single habitation or met
a human being, and now the road was literally thronged with people
moving on to the fair, with whose clean garments my mud-stained clothes
contrasted very unfavourably. There were Indians, Mestizoes, and white
people on horseback, muleback, and on foot, men, women, and children,
many carrying on their backs things to sell, in petaquillas, or long
baskets of straw; whole families, sometimes half a village moving in
company; and I fell in behind a woman perched on a loaded horse, with a
child in her arms, and a little fellow behind, his legs stretched out
nearly straight to span the horse's flanks, and both arms clasping her
substantial body to keep himself from slipping off. We passed parties
sitting in the shade to rest or eat, and families lying down by the
roadside to sleep, without any fear of molestation from the rest.
At half past eleven we reached the village of Becal, conspicuous, like
all the others, for a large plaza and church with two towers. In the
suburbs the mayoral and I interchanged sentiments about breakfast, and,
after making a circle in the plaza, he struck off direct for the house
of the cura. I do not think the cura could have been expecting me, but
if so, he could not have provided a better breakfast, or at shorter
notice. Besides the breakfast, the cura told me of ruins on his
hacienda which he had never visited, but which he promised to have
cleared away and be ready to show me on my return. Circumstances
occurred to prevent my returning by the same road, but the cura, having
had the ruins cleared away, visited them himself and I afterward heard
that I had lost something by not seeing them. I took leave of him with
the buoyancy of old times, breakfast secured, and a prospect of another
ruined city.
In an hour I reached Jalacho, where I met Don Simon and two of his
brothers, with whom I was not yet acquainted; Don Lorenzo, who had a
hacienda in that neighbourhood, and Don Alonzo, then living in
Campeachy, who was educated in New-York, and spoke English remarkably
well.
The village of Jalacho lies on the main road from Merida to Campeachy,
and, next to that of Yzamal, its fair is the greatest in Yucatan, while
in some respects it is more curious. It is not attended by large
merchants with foreign goods, nor by the better classes from Merida,
but it is resorted to by all the Indians from the haciendas and
villages. It is inferior in one respect: gambling is not carried on
upon so large a scale as at Yzamal.
The time was when all countries had their periodical fairs; but the
changed and improved condition of the world has almost abolished this
feature of ancient times. Increased facilities of communication with
foreign countries and different parts of the same country make
opportunities for buying and selling an every-day thing; and at this
day, in general throughout Europe, for all articles of necessity, and
even of luxury, every man has, as it were, a fair every day at his own
door. But the countries in America subject to the Spanish dominion have
felt less sensibly, perhaps, than any others in the world, the onward
impulse of the last two centuries, and in them many usages and customs
derived from Europe, but there long since fallen into oblivion, are
still in full force. Among them is this of holding fairs, of which,
though several took place during the time of my journey in Central
America, I had no opportunity of seeing any.
The fair of Jalacho was an observance of eight days, but the first two
or three were marked only by the arrival of scattering parties, and the
business of securing places to live in and to display wares. The great
gathering or high change did not begin till Thursday, which was the day
of my arrival, and then it was computed that there were assembled in
the village ten thousand persons.
Of all this crowd the plaza was the grand point of concentration.
Along the houses fronting it was a range of tables set out with
looking-glasses in frames of red paper, rings and necklaces, cotton,
and toys and trinkets for the Indians. On the opposite side of the
street, along the square of the church, were rustic arbours, occupied
by venders having similar commodities spread before them. The plaza was
partitioned, and at regular intervals was a merchant, whose shop was a
rude stick fixed upright in the ground, and having another crosswise at
the top, covered with leaves and twigs, thus forming a sort of
umbrella, to protect its sitting occupant from the sun. These were the
merchants of dulces and other eatables. This part of the fair was
constantly crowded, and perhaps nine tenths were Indians from the
pueblos and haciendas around. Don Simon Peon told me that he had
entered on his books a hundred and fifty _criados_, or servants, who
had applied to him for money, and he did not know how many more were
present.
It may be supposed that the church was not uninterested in this great
gathering. In fact, it was the fete of Santiago, and among the Indians
this fiesta was identified with the fair. The doors of the church were
constantly open, the interior was thronged with Indians, and a crowd
continually pressing to the altar. In the doorway was a large table
covered with candles and small figures of arms and legs in wax, which
the Indians purchased as they entered at a medio apiece, for offerings
to the saint. Near the altar, on the left, sat an unshaved ministro,
with a table before him, on which was a silver waiter, covered with
medios, reales, and two shilling pieces, showing to the backward what
others had done, and inviting them to do the same. The candles
purchased at the door had been duly blessed, and as the Indians went up
with them, a strapping negro, with linen particularly dirty, received
and lighted them at one burning on the altar, whence with his black
hands he passed them on to a rusty white assistant, who arranged them
upon a table, and, even before the backs of the offerers were turned,
puffed out the light, and took the candles to be smoothed over, and
resold at the door for another medio each.
High above the heads of the crowd, catching the eye on first entering
the church, was the figure of Santiago, or Saint James, on horseback,
holy in the eyes of all who saw it, and famed for its power of working
miracles, healing the sick, curing the fever and ague, insuring to
prospective parents a boy or girl as desired, bringing back a lost cow
or goat, healing a cut of the machete, or relieving from any other
calamity incident to an Indian's lot. The fore feet of the horse were
raised in the air, and the saint wore a black cocked hat, with a broad
gold band, a short mantle of scarlet velvet, having a broad gold edging
round the cape and skirts, green velvet trousers, with a wide gold
stripe down the sides, and boots and spurs. All the time I stood there,
and every time I went into the church, men, women, and children were
pressing forward, struggling with each other to kiss the foot of the
saint. The simple Indian, as the first act of devotion, led up his
whole family to do this act of obeisance. The mother lifted her sucking
child, and pressed its lips, warm from her breast, against the foot of
the bedizened statue.
In the afternoon commenced the first bull-fight. The _toreadores_, or
bull-fighters, all lived at the house opposite ours, and from it
the procession started. It was headed by a wrinkled, squint-eyed,
bandy-legged Indian, carrying under his arm the old Indian drum, and
dancing grotesquely to his own music; then followed the band, and then
the gallant picadores, a cut-throat looking set of scoundrels, who,
imagining themselves the admiration, were the contempt of the crowd.
The Plaza de Toros was on one side of the square of the plaza, and,
like that in the square of the church of San Cristoval, was constructed
of poles and vines, upright, intwining and interlaced, tottering and
yielding under pressure, and yet holding together firmly. In the centre
was a pole, on the top of which flourished the Mexican eagle, with
outspread wings, holding in his beak a scroll with the appropriate
motto, "Viva la Republica de Yucatan," and strings extended like radii
to different parts of the boxes, wrapped with cut and scolloped papers
fluttering in the wind. On one side of the ring was a pole with a
wooden beam, from which hung, by strings fastened to the crown of an
old straw hat, two figures stuffed with straw, with grotesque masks and
ludicrous dresses. One was very narrow in the shoulders and very broad
below, and his trousers were buttoned behind.
The toros, fallen into disrepute in the capital, is still the favourite
and national amusement in the pueblos. The animal tied to the post when
we entered was from the hacienda of the senote, which was famed for the
ferocity of its bulls. The picadores, too, were fiercer than those in
the capital, and the contests were more sanguinary and fatal. Several
times the bulls were struck down, and two, reeking with blood, were
dragged off by the horns, dead; and this was in the presence of women,
and greeted with their smiles and approbation: a disgusting and
degrading spectacle, but as yet having too strong a hold upon popular
feeling to be easily set aside. The entertainment was got up at the
expense of the village, and all who could find a place had liberty to
enter.
This over, there was an interval for business, and particularly for
visiting the horse-market, or rather a particular section to which
dealers sent their horses to be exhibited. I was more interested in
this than any other branch of commerce carried on at the fair, as I
wished to purchase horses for our journey. There were plenty of them,
though, as in all other sections of the country, but few fine ones.
Prices varied from ten dollars to two hundred, the value depending, not
upon bone, blood, or muscle, but upon training and paces. The young
hacienda horses, with nothing but the trot, or trotones, as they were
called, were worth from ten dollars to twenty-five, but as they
excelled in pace or easiness of movement their value increased. No one
pretends to ride a trotting horse in Yucatan, for he who does labours
under the imputation of not being able to purchase a pacer. The finest
horses in the country in appearance are those imported; but the Yucatan
horses, though small, are remarkably hardy, require no care, and endure
an extraordinary degree of fatigue.
Night came on, and the plaza was alive with people and brilliant with
lights. On one side, opposite the church, along the corridors of the
houses and in front of them, were rows of tables, with cards and dice,
which were very soon crowded with players, whites and Mestizoes; but
the great scene of attraction was the gathering of Indians in the
centre of the plaza. It was the hour of supper, and the small merchants
had abundant custom for their eatables. Turkeys which had stood tied by
one leg all day, inviting people to come and eat them, were now ready,
of which for a medio two men had a liberal allowance; and I remarked,
what I had heard of, but had not seen before, that grains of cacao
circulated among the Indians as money. Every merchant or vender of
eatables, the most of whom were women, had on the table a pile of these
grains, which they were constantly counting and exchanging with the
Indians. There is no copper money in Yucatan, nor any coin whatever
under a medio, or six and a quarter cents, and this deficiency is
supplied by these grains of cacao. The medio is divided into twenty
parts, generally of five grains each, but the number is increased or
decreased according to the quantity of the article in the market, and
its real value. As the earnings of the Indians are small, and the
articles they purchase are the mere necessaries of life, which are very
cheap, these grains of cacao, or fractional parts of a medio, are the
coin in most common use among them. The currency has always a real
value, and is regulated by the quantity of cacao in the market, and the
only inconvenience, economically speaking, that it has, is the loss of
a certain public wealth by the destruction of the cacao, as in the case
of bank notes. But these grains had an interest independent of all
questions of political economy, for they indicate or illustrate a page
in the history of this unknown and mysterious people. When the
Spaniards first made their way into the interior of Yucatan, they found
no circulating medium, either of gold, or silver, or any other species
of metal, but only grains of cacao; and it seemed a strange
circumstance, that while the manners and customs of the Indians have
undergone an immense change, while their cities have been destroyed,
their religion dishonoured, their princes swept away, and their whole
government modified by foreign laws, no experiment has yet been made
upon their currency.
In the midst of this strange scene, there was a stir at one end of the
plaza, and an object presented itself that at once turned my thoughts
and feelings homeward. It was a post-coach, from a Troy factory,
exactly like those seen on every road in our country, but it had on the
panel of the door "La Diligencia Campechana." It was one of the line of
diligences between Campeachy and Merida, and just arrived from the
former place. It came up on a run, drawn by wild, uncombed horses, not
yet broken to the bit, and with their breasts galled and raw from the
pressure of the collar. It had nine inside, and had an aspect so
familiar that, as the door opened, I expected to see acquaintances get
out; but all spoke a foreign tongue, and instead of being welcomed to
supper or bed by an officious landlord and waiter, all inquired
anxiously where they could get something to eat and a place to sleep
in.
Leaving them to do as well as they could, we went to the baile or ball.
In front of the quartel was a rustic arbour, enclosed by a temporary
railing, with benches and chairs arranged around the sides, and the
centre cleared for dancing. Until I saw them collected together, I did
not suppose that so many white persons were present at the fair, and,
like the men at the gambling-table, and the Indians in the plaza, these
seemed to forget that there was any other party present than
themselves. In this obliviousness I sympathized, and slipping into an
easy arm-chair, from the time of my drag through the mud in the morning
I had not so quiet and comfortable a moment, in which condition I
remained until awakened by Don Simon.
The next day was a repetition of the same scenes. In the afternoon, at
the bull-fight, I fell into conversation with a gentleman who sat next
to me, and who gave me information of some antiquities in Maxcanu, a
village four leagues distant. That I might take this place on my return
to Uxmal, it was advisable to visit the ruins on Don Simon's hacienda
the next day. Don Simon could not go with me until after the fair, and
amid the great concourse of Indians it was difficult to find one who
could serve as a guide.
It was not till eleven o'clock the next day that I was able to set out,
and I had as a guide a major domo of another hacienda, who, being, as I
imagined, vexed at being obliged to leave the fiesta, and determined to
get me off his hands as soon as possible, set out at a swinging trot.
The sun was scorching, the road broad, strait, and stony, and without a
particle of shade, but in forty minutes, both considerably heated, we
reached the hacienda of Sijoh, two leagues distant.
This hacienda belonged to a brother of Don Simon, then resident in Vera
Cruz, and was under the latter's charge. Here my guide passed me over
into the hands of an Indian, and rode back as fast as he could to the
fair. The Indian mounted another horse, and, continuing a short
distance on the same road through the lands of the hacienda, we turned
off to the right, and in five minutes saw in the woods to our left,
near the road, a high mound of ruins of that distinctive character once
so strange, but now so familiar to me, proclaiming the existence
another unknown, nameless, desolate, and ruined city.
We continued on to another mound nearer than the first, where we
dismounted and tied our horses to the bushes. This mound was a solid
mass of masonry, about thirty feet high, and nearly square. The stones
were large, one at the corner measuring six feet in length by three in
width, and the sides were covered with thorns and briers. On the south
side was a range of steps still in good condition, each fifteen inches
high, and in general three feet long. On the other sides the stones
rose in a pyramidal form, but without steps. On the top was a stone
building, with its wall as high as the cornice standing. Above this the
facade had fallen, but the mass of stone and mortar which formed the
roof remained, and within the apartment was precisely like the interior
of the buildings at Uxmal, having the same distinctive arch. There were
no remains of sculpture, but the base of the mound was encumbered with
fallen stones, among which were some about three feet long, dug out so
as to form a sort of trough, the same as we had seen at Uxmal, where
they were called pilas or fountains.
Leaving this, we returned through the woods to the mound we had first
seen. This was perhaps sixty feet high, and was a mere mass of fallen
stone. Whatever it might have been, its features were entirely lost,
and but for the structure I had just seen, and the waste of ruins in
other parts of the country, it might have seemed doubtful whether it
had ever been formed according to any plan or rules of art. The mass of
stone was so solid that no vegetation could take root upon it; its
sides were bare and bleached, and the pieces, on being disturbed, slid
down with a metallic sound like the ringing of iron. In climbing up I
received a blow from a sliding stone, which nearly carried me back to
the bottom, for the moment completely disabled me, and from which I did
not entirely recover until some time afterward.
From the top of this mound I saw two others of nearly the same height,
and, taking their direction with the compass, I descended and directed
my steps toward them. The whole ground was covered with trees and a
thick undergrowth of brush and thorn-bushes. My Indian had gone to lead
the horses round to another road. I had no machete, and though the
mounds were not far distant, I was excessively scratched and torn in
getting to them. They were all ruined, so that they barely preserved
their form. Passing between these, I saw beyond three others, forming
three angles of a patio or square; and in this patio, rising above the
thorn-bushes and briers, were huge stones, which, on being first
discovered, suddenly and unexpectedly, actually startled me. At a
distance they reminded me of the monuments of Copan, but they were even
more extraordinary and incomprehensible. They were uncouth in shape,
and rough as they came from the quarry. Four of them were flat; the
largest was fourteen feet high, and measured toward the top four feet
in width, and one and a half in thickness. The top was broader than the
bottom, and it stood in a leaning posture, as if its foundation had
been loosened. The others were still more irregular in shape, and it
seemed as if the people who erected them had just looked out for the
largest stones they could lay their hands on tall or short, thick or
thin, square or round, without regard to anything except bulk. They had
no beauty or fitness of design or proportion, and there were no
characters upon them. But in that desolation and solitude they were
strange and striking, and, like unlettered headstones in a churchyard,
seemed to mark the graves of unknown dead.
On one of the mounds, looking down upon this patio, was a long
building, with its front wall fallen, and leaving the whole interior
exposed to view. I climbed up to it, but saw only the remains of the
same narrow corridor and arch, and on the wall were prints of the red
hand. The whole country was so overgrown that it was impossible to form
any idea of what its extent had been, but one thing was certain, a
large city had once stood here, and what its name was no man knew.
At this time my visit was merely intended as preliminary, for the
purpose of judging whether there were any subjects for Mr. Catherwood's
pencil, and it was now about one o'clock. The heat was intense, and
sweating and covered with briers and burrs, which stuck to every part
of my clothes, I came out into the open road, where my Indium was
waiting for me with the horses. We mounted immediately, and continued
on a gallop to the hacienda of Tankuche, two leagues distant.
This hacienda was a favourite with Don Simon, as he had created it out
of the wilderness, and the entire road from the village he had made
himself. It was a good logwood country, and here he had erected
machinery for extracting the dye. In general, it was the most busy
place of all his haciendas, but this day it seemed as if a desolating
scourge had swept over it. The huts of the Indians were closed and
locked up; no barebodied children were playing around them, and the
large gate was locked. We tied our horses by one of the panels, and,
ascending by a flight of stone steps, entered the lane and walked up to
the house. Every door was locked, and not a person in sight. Moving on
to the high stone structure forming the platform of the well, I saw a
little boy, dressed in a straw hat, dozing on an old horse, which was
creeping round with the well-beam, drawing in broken buckets a slow
stream of water, for which no one came. At sight of me he rose from the
neck of his horse, and tried to stop him, but the old animal seemed so
used to going round that he could not stop, and the little fellow
looked as if he expected to be going till some one came to take him
off. All had gone to the fiesta, and were now swelling the great crowd
I had left in the village. It was an immense change from the thronged
fair to the solitude of this desolate hacienda. I sat down under a
large seybo tree overshadowing the well, and ate a roll of bread and an
orange, after which I strolled back to the gate, and, to my surprise,
found only one horse. My guide had mounted his and returned to his
hacienda. I walked into the factory, returned to the well, and
attempted speech with the boy, but the old horse started forward and
carried him away from me; I lay down on the platform of the well; the
creaking of the beam served as a sort of lullaby and I had made such
progress that I was not very eager to be interrupted, when an Indian
lad arrived, who had been hunted up by my missing guide, and directed
to show me the ruins. This fact, however, he would not have been able
to communicate, but, fortunately, he was accompanied by an Indian who
spoke Spanish. The latter was an intelligent, middle-aged man, of
highly respectable appearance, but Don Simon told me he was the worst
fellow on the hacienda. He was desperately in love with a girl who did
not live on the estate, and he was in the habit of running away to
visit her, and of being brought back with his arms tied behind him; as
a punishment for a late offence of this kind, he had been prohibited
from going to the fiesta. Through him I had an understanding with my
new guide, and set out again.
In five minutes after leaving the hacienda, we passed between two
mounds of ruins, and, from time to time having glimpses of other
vestiges in the woods, in twenty minutes we came to a mound about
thirty feet high, on the top of which was a ruined building. Here we
dismounted, tied our horses, and ascended the mound. The whole of the
front wall had fallen, together with the front half of the arch; the
interior chamber was filled with dirt and rubbish nearly up to the
cornice, and the arch of the back wall was the only part above ground;
but this, instead of being of smooth stones, like all the others we had
seen in Yucatan, was plastered and covered with paintings, the colours
of which were still bright and fresh. The principal colours were red,
green, yellow, and blue, and at first the lines and figures seemed so
distinct, that I thought I could make out the subjects. The apartment
being filled up with dirt, I stood above the objects, and it was only
by sitting, or rather lying down, that I could examine them. One
subject at first sight struck me as being a representation of the mask
found at Palenque. I was extremely desirous to get this off entire, but
found, by experiments upon other parts of the plaster with the machete,
that it would be impossible to do so, and left it untouched.
In the interest of the work, I did not discover that thousands of
garrapatas were crawling over me. These insects are the scourge of
Yucatan, and altogether they were a more constant source of annoyance
and suffering than any we encountered in the country. I had seen
something of them in Central America, but at a different season, when
the hot sun had killed off the immensity of their numbers, and those
left had attained such a size that a single one could easily be seen
and picked off. These, in colour, size, and numbers, were like grains
of sand. They disperse themselves all over the body, get into the seams
of the clothes, and, like the insect known among us as the tick, bury
themselves in the flesh, causing an irritation that is almost
intolerable. The only way to get rid of them effectually is by changing
all the clothes. In Uxmal we had not been troubled with them, for they
are said to breed only in those woods where cattle pasture, and the
grounds about Uxmal had been used as a milpa, or plantation of corn. It
was the first time I had ever had them upon me in such profusion, and
their presence disturbed most materially the equanimity with which I
examined the paintings. In fact I did not remain long on the ground.
It is particularly unfortunate that, while so many apartments have
remained free, this most curious and interesting one has become filled
up. It is probable that the walls, as well as the arch, are plastered
and painted. It would have cost a week's labour to clear it out, and my
impression was, that, in consequence of the dirt having been piled up
against the walls for an unknown length of time, through a long
succession of rainy seasons, the colours were so completely effaced
that nothing would have been discovered to compensate for the labour.
It was now nearly dark. My day's work had been a severe one. I was
tired and covered with garrapatas, but the next day was Sunday, the
last of the fiesta, and I determined on returning to the village that
night. There was a brilliant moonlight, and, hurrying on, at eleven
o'clock I saw, at the end of a long straight road, the illuminated
front of the church of Jalacho. Very soon, amid the shining lights and
congregated thousands, I forgot desolations and ruins, and my
sympathies once more moved with the living. I passed by the tables of
the gamblers, worked my way through the plaza and through a crowd of
Indians, who fell back in deference to the colour of my skin, and,
unexpectedly to my friends, presented myself at the baile. This time I
had no disposition to sleep. For the last night of the fiesta the
neighbouring villages had sent forth their all; the ball was larger and
gayer of whites and those in whose veins white blood ran, while
outside, leaning upon the railing, looking in, but not presuming to
enter, were close files of Indians, and beyond, in the plaza, was a
dense mass of them--natives of the land and lords of the soil, that
strange people in whose ruined cities I had just been wandering,
submitting quietly to the dominion of strangers, bound down and trained
to the most abject submission, and looking up to the white man as a
superior being. Could these be the descendants of that fierce people
who had made such bloody resistance to the Spanish conquerors?
At eleven o'clock the ball broke up and fireworks were let off from the
balustrade of the church. These ended with the national piece of El
Castillo, and at twelve o'clock, when we went away, the plaza was as
full of Indians as at midday. At no time since my arrival in the
country had I been so struck with the peculiar constitution of things
in Yucatan. Originally portioned out as slaves, the Indians remain as
servants. Veneration for masters is the first lesson they learn, and
these masters, the descendants of the terrible conquerors, in centuries
of uninterrupted peace have lost all the fierceness of their ancestors.
Gentle, and averse to labour themselves, they impose no heavy burdens
upon the Indians, but understand and humour their ways, and the two
races move on harmoniously together, with nothing to apprehend from
each other, forming a simple, primitive, and almost patriarchal state
of society; and so strong is the sense of personal security, that,
notwithstanding the crowds of strangers, and although every day Don
Simon had sat with doors open and piles of money on the table, so
little apprehension was there of robbery, that we slept without a door
or window locked.