ACROSS THE PLATEAUS
The traveller going to Mexico by rail will discover that that country
begins long before the border is reached. While travelling over the great
state of Texas, where the dialect of the natives is as broad as the
rolling prairie round about, he is reminded of our southern neighbour
by the soft accents of the Spanish language, or by the entrance into
the coach of a Mexican cowboy with his great hat and picturesque suit.
Leaving beautiful San Antonio, which is a Spanish city modernized, it is
but a few hours until the train crosses the muddy Rio Grande at Laredo
and, after passing an imaginary line in the centre of the stream, enters
the land of burros and _sombreros_, a land of mysterious origin and vast
antiquity.
[Illustration: “THE LAND OF BURROS AND _SOMBREROS_”]
The custom officials are very polite and soon affix the necessary label
“despachado” to the baggage. “_Vamonos_” (we go) replaces the familiar
“all aboard,” and the train moves out over a country as flat and dreary
as a desert. By whichever route the traveller enters Mexico, the
journey is very uninteresting for the first half day. There is nothing
to relieve the monotony except the telephone and telegraph poles, with
their picturesque cross-arms standing out on the desert waste like giant
sentinels. There is no vegetation except the prickly pear, cactus, and
feather duster palms, for frequently no rain falls for years at a time.
It seems almost impossible that anything can get moisture from the
parched air of these plains. But nature has strange ways of adapting
life to conditions. A good illustration of this is seen in the _ixtle_,
a species of cactus whose leaves look as if they could not absorb any
moisture because of a hard varnish-like coat. Whenever any water in the
form of dew or rain appears, however, this glaze softens and the plant
absorbs all the moisture available and then glazes over again as soon as
the sun comes out.
There is very little life here. Sometimes at the stations a few adobe
huts are seen where dwell the section hands, and a few goats are visible
which, no doubt, find the prickly pear and cactus with an occasional
railroad spike thrown in for variety, much more satisfying than an
unchanging diet of tin cans such as falls to the lot of the city goat.
The mountain ranges then appear, and never is the traveller out of
sight of them in Mexico. On either side, toward the east and toward the
west, is a range with an ever varying outline, sometimes near, then
far,—advancing and retreating. At a distance in this clear atmosphere
their rough features are mellowed by a soft haze into amethyst and
purple; nearer they sometimes rise like a camp of giants and are the most
fantastic mountains that earthquakes ever made in sport, looking as if
nature had laughed herself into the convulsions in which they were formed.
The Mexican National Railway follows a broad road that was formerly an
Indian trail, and the track crosses and recrosses this highway many
times. By this same route it is probable that early Mexican races entered
that country and marched down toward the Valley of Mexico. It was by this
way that General Taylor invaded the country during the Mexican War and
several engagements took place along the line of this railroad.
The first town of any size is Monterey, capital of the state of Nuevo
Leon, the oldest and one of the most important cities in Northern
Mexico. It lies in a lovely valley with high hills on every side. It is
at a lower altitude than the cities farther south on this line and enjoys
a salubrious climate. Monterey is a very much Americanized town and has
great smelters, factories, and breweries, but it also boasts of beautiful
gardens and some old churches. The Topo Chico hot springs only a few
miles away have a great reputation for healing. Here it was, in 1846,
that General Taylor overcame a much superior force of the enemy under
General Ampudia in a desperate and stubbornly disputed battle lasting
several days, the contest being hotly fought from street to street. The
Mexican troops entered the houses and shot at the American soldiers from
the windows and roofs. It is now a city of more than fifty thousand
people.
Leaving Monterey, the road soon begins a gradual ascent to the higher
plateaus and reaches the zone called _tierra fria_, or cold country. This
name would seem a misnomer to one who hails from the land of snow and
ice, for the mean temperature of this “cold land” is that of a perpetual
spring such as is enjoyed north of Mason and Dixon’s line. It is properly
applied to all that part of Mexico which is six thousand feet or more
above the level of the sea and the greater part of the immense central
plateaus comes within this designation. These plains which comprise about
two-thirds of the entire country, are formed by the great Andes range of
mountains which separates into two great _cordillerias_ near Oaxaca and
gradually grow farther and farther apart as they approach the Rio Grande.
The western branch crowds the shore of the Pacific and the eastern
follows the coast line of the Gulf of Mexico, but the latter keeps at
a greater distance from the sea, thus giving a wider expanse of the
hotlands. They are not level tablelands, these _mesas_, as they always
slope in some direction. The arid condition follows as a natural course,
for the lofty ranges cause the rain to be precipitated on the coast lands
except during certain seasons in the year when the winds change. When the
rains do come, a miracle is wrought, and the sombre landscape blossoms
into a lively green dotted with flowers. It is rare to find such great
plains at so high an altitude. Although now almost barren of trees it is
probable that in early times these tablelands were covered with a forest
growth principally of oak and cypress. This is evidenced by the few
groves that yet remain, in which many of the trees are of extraordinary
dimensions. The Spaniards completed the spoliation that had been begun by
the earlier races.
Saltillo, the next important town, is the capital of the State of
Coahuila. It is interesting to Americans, as just a few miles from here
and near the railway took place the battle of Buena Vista, at the village
of that name. Here the Americans under General Taylor sent double their
number of Mexicans under the notorious Santa Anna, flying on February
23rd, 1847.
Still climbing, the road continues toward the capital, passes through
a rich mining district, and after the Tropic of Cancer is crossed the
traveller is in the Torrid Zone, the spot being marked by a pyramid.
Plains, seemingly endless, where for a hundred miles the long stretch
of track is without a curve, are traversed, and so dry that wells and
water-tanks are objects of interest. It is mostly given up to vast
_haciendas_. Some of these estates still remain in the hands of the
original families as granted at the time of the conquest.
It was on these vast, seemingly barren plateaus that the _hacienda_
reached its highest development. One does not go far south of the Rio
Grande before the significance of this institution in Mexican life
becomes apparent. Sometimes when the train stops at a little adobe
station with a long name, the traveller wonders what is the need of a
station; for there is no town and only a few native huts clustered around
the depot. However a glance around the horizon will reveal the towers and
spire of a _hacienda_ nestling at the foot of the hills perhaps several
miles away. In the olden times they took the place of the feudal castles
of the middle ages in Europe and in these sparsely settled regions they
were especially necessary. Within the high walls which often surround
them for protection were centralized the residence of the owner and all
of his employees and the necessary buildings to store the products of
the soil. The _hacendado’s_ home was a large, roomy building, for, since
there were no inns, the traveller must be entertained and hospitality
was of the open-handed sort. The travel-worn wayfarer was welcomed and
no questions asked. His wants were supplied and at his departure the
benediction “Go, and God be with you,” followed him. Even yet at some of
these great _haciendas_, where the old-time customs prevail, the bell is
rung at mealtime and any one who hears it is welcomed at the table.
The term _hacienda_ has a double meaning, for it is applied both to
the great estates and to the buildings. It is a patriarchal existence
that is led by these landed proprietors. A thousand peons and more are
frequently attached to the estate. Near the station of Villa Reyes is a
great _hacienda_ which once controlled twenty thousand peons. These must
be provided with homes, but a room fifteen feet square is considered
sufficient for a family, no matter how large. Little furniture is needed,
for they live out of doors mostly, and mats, which can be removed during
the day, take the place of cumbersome beds. The _administrador_, who may
be an Indian also, and other heads, live better and are housed in larger
quarters. A church is always a part of the estate and a priest must be
kept to furnish spiritual solace, as well as a doctor to administer to
those whose bodies are infirm. Schools are also maintained by most of the
proprietors to-day. The peon must be provided with his provisions each
week and a little patch of ground for his own use. Around the buildings
lie the cultivated fields, and from early morn until the shades of night
have fallen, lines of burros are constantly passing in and out laden with
wood, corn, vegetables, poultry, boxes of freight, and all the other
items of traffic which are a part of the life of this great household.
After piercing another of the mountain ranges which intersect the country
from east to west, and traversing miles of fertile fields and gardens
bearing semi-tropical fruits and vegetables, the road enters a valley
and the city of San Luis Potosi is reached. Every country has its Saint
Louis, but only one has a Saint Louis of the Treasure, and that is
San Luis Potosi, the capital of the state of that name. It lies in a
spreading plain of great fertility—made so by irrigation—whose gardens
extend to the encircling hills that are rich in the mineral treasures
which give the city its name. The San Pedro mines near here alone produce
an annual output of several millions. These mines were revealed to
Spaniards by an Indian who had become converted to Christianity. There is
a mint here that coins several millions of dollars each year.
[Illustration: MARKET SCENE IN SAN LUIS POTOSI]
San Luis Potosi is not a new city nor has its growth been of the mushroom
variety. Founded in the middle of the sixteenth century, it preserves
to-day in wood and stone the spirit of old Spain transplanted by the
conquerors to the new world. Drawn hither by the reports of gold, the
Spanish cavalier stalked through the streets of this town in complete
mail before the _Mayflower_ landed on the shores of Massachusetts. The
priests were chanting the solemn service of the church here long before
the English landed at Jamestown. Dust had gathered on the municipal
library, which now contains a hundred thousand volumes, centuries before
the building of the first little red school house in the United States.
Before New York had been thought of, the drama of life was being enacted
here daily after Castillian models.
It is a cleanly city and the bright attractive look of its houses
is refreshing. A city ordinance compels the citizens to keep up the
appearance of their houses, and the colours remind one of Seville. It is
pleasant to walk along these streets and through the plazas with their
trees and flowers and fountains.
I will never forget my arrival in this city. We reached there about
midnight, having been delayed by a wreck; and a number of _mozos_ pounced
upon the party of Americans who had been dropped by the belated train,
each one eager to carry some of the baggage. We were marched through the
Alameda, which, for a wonder, adjoins the station, on walks shaded by
broad-leaved, tropical plants, down narrow streets and around several
corners to the hotel. Arrived here it was only after several minutes
of vigorous knocking that a sleepy-looking porter opened the door,
and we entered the hotel and walked down the hall through a line of
sleeping servants. The room finally assigned to my friend and myself was
thirty-four feet long, sixteen feet wide and about twenty-five feet high,
and there were four great windows extending nearly from ceiling to floor
and protected by heavy iron bars which made them look like the windows
of a prison. It had doubtless been some church property at one time, but
whether monastery or convent I did not learn.
[Illustration: COCK-FIGHTING IN MEXICO]
Not all this city is pretty however, for distance often lends
enchantment, and a closer scrutiny takes away much of this charm. I
saw filth on the streets here that can only be duplicated in old Spain
itself. There are numerous churches and several of them are quite
pretentious and contain some fine paintings. On the façade of one
church there is a clock presented by the king of Spain in return for
the largest piece of gold ever found in America. San Luis is a thrifty
city as Mexican towns go and has numerous manufacturing establishments,
including a large smelting works, the Compania Metallurgica, and is an
important railroad centre. It is distant from the City of Mexico three
hundred and sixty-two miles, and has a population of seventy thousand
souls.
This city claims quite a number of American families as residents and
many of the storekeepers have been somewhat Americanized, for they
actually seem to be on the lookout for business. The state capitol is
a very interesting building. While looking through this palace I saw
the “line up” of petty offenders who were being sent out to sweep the
streets. They were the worst looking lot of _pulque_-drinkers I ever saw
and were clothed in rags. Each one was given a handful of twigs with
which he was obliged to sweep the streets and gutters, and they were sent
out in gangs, each under a police officer. The vices of these people are
generally more evident than their virtues. They are inveterate gamblers.
Wherever one goes (not alone in San Luis Potosi) fighting cocks are
encountered tied by the leg to a stake with a few feet of string. Or they
may be carried in the arms of young would-be sports who brag of their
birds to any one who will listen. One day I saw a man with a cock whose
head was one bloody-looking mass. He had just cut off the rooster’s
comb. When I stopped and looked, the Indian laughed as though it were a
great joke and said he was “much sick.” This was done so that in a fight
his opponent could not catch hold of the comb. Itinerant cock-fighters
who travel across the country carrying their birds in hollow straw tubes
are popular fellows.
Leaving San Luis Potosi at noontime the traveller catches his last
glimpse of this city where
“Upon the whitened city walls
The golden sunshine softly falls,
On archways set with orange trees,
On paven courts and balconies.”
The train soon enters a rich agricultural belt and the country becomes
more populous. Giant cacti towering straight and tall to a height of
fifteen or twenty feet are a common sight.
Dolores Hidalgo where the patriot-priest first sounded the call to
liberty and revolution is passed. Then comes Querétero, which occupies a
prominent place in Mexican history and is the last city of any size on
the way to the capital. Here the treaty of peace between Mexico and the
United States was negotiated. In this city Maximilian played the last
act in the tragedy of the empire. He was captured while attempting to
escape on June 19th, 1867, and was shot on the Cerro de las Campañas, a
little hill just outside the city. With him were shot Generals Miramon
and Mejia. Maximilian died with the cry of “_Viva Mexico_” on his lips.
There is a magnificent aqueduct here which, because of the high arches,
looks like the old ruined aqueduct seen on approaching Rome. The tallest
arch is nearly one hundred feet. The entire length of the aqueduct is
about five miles and it is still in use. There are a number of factories
for cotton goods. Among them is the great Hercules Mill which employs
more than two thousand hands. The grounds are laid out in elaborate and
beautiful style.
After climbing the mountain range again until an altitude of nearly ten
thousand feet has been reached, the descent begins and the beauty of the
Valley of Mexico unfolds. Fleeting glimpses of the scene may be caught
through little gaps in the mountains until finally the train enters a
pass and the traveller has his first view of the City of Mexico. Beyond
the glittering towers and domes of the modern city on the site of the
ancient Aztec capital lies the bright expanse of the lakes, and still
further in the distance is seen the encircling girdle of mountains like
a protecting wall around this enchanted scene.
There are many other cities situated on these vast plateaus, for the
_tierra fria_ has always maintained the bulk of the population in spite
of the extraordinary richness of the lowlands. They are growing in size
as manufacturing establishments become more numerous. A number of them
like Chihuahua, Aguas Calientes, Zacatecas, Guanajuato, Durango, and
Leon are interesting cities of from thirty to forty thousand inhabitants
and all of them are old. Chihuahua (pronounced Che-wa-wa) is the capital
of the state of that name which is the largest state in the republic
and is twice as large as the state of Ohio. It has a population of less
than four hundred thousand. This will serve to give a little idea of the
vastness of these great tablelands and the sparseness of population. It
is chiefly devoted to great ranches where hundreds of thousands of cattle
are grazed.
It may be interesting to note that cattle ranching originated in this
state. All the terms used on the range and roundup are of Spanish origin
and are the same that have been employed for centuries. One man here
is the owner of a cattle ranch covering seventeen million acres. The
traveller might journey for days and cross ranges of mountains and not
pass beyond his princely domain. There are a number of cattle ranches of
from one to two million acres and a few Americans are now entering the
field here since the public domain in the United States has dwindled so
much.
Two cities, Guadalajara and Puebla, have long disputed for the honour
of second city in the republic. Puebla is situated southeast of the
capital and is a city of tiles, for tiles are used everywhere from the
domes of churches to floors for the devout to kneel upon. It is the
capital of the richest state in the republic and has probably seen more
of the vicissitudes of war than any other city. It has been captured
and occupied successively by Spaniards, Americans and French and by
revolutionists times without number. This city was the scene of General
Zaragossa’s victory on May 5th, 1862, when he repulsed the French forces
just outside the city’s gates. This victory is celebrated each year as
the “_cinco de Mayo_” (Fifth of May) and is the great anti-foreign day.
Formerly foreigners did not show themselves on the street on this day,
but that antagonistic sentiment has disappeared. In 1906 because of
labour disturbances for which American agitators were blamed trouble was
feared on this day, but it passed off without an unpleasant incident.
This city was founded as early as 1532. Its history is romantic and full
of legends recounting the many visits of the angels. Angels appeared
one night and staked out the city. Again, while the cathedral was being
built, the angels came after nightfall when the city was wrapped in
slumber and built a great part of the tower. At another time the angels
were marshalled in mighty hosts just over the city. The people can even
point out to you the very places where the angelic visitors roosted.
The ecclesiastical records vouch for these appearances of the heavenly
visitors and the people devoutly believe in them.
Puebla has wide streets—for Mexico—and many beautiful plazas with
flowers and fountains. It is also noted for its bull-fights and has two
bull-rings. These are in use nearly every Sunday and frequently for the
benefit of or in honour of some church feast or departed saint. The
public buildings are very creditable and the city contains good schools
and hospitals. A goodly number of foreigners live here, especially
Germans. I have noticed that the Germans affiliate with the Mexicans
much better than Americans generally do. One reason is that they come
here to establish their permanent residence, while Americans, like the
Chinese, desire to make their fortunes and then return to the land of
their birth to spend their later days.
Puebla has become quite a manufacturing city and especially of cotton
goods, paper, flour and soaps. Onyx and marble are quarried near here,
and a large number of workmen are employed in the quarries and in
the establishments preparing these materials for the market. Several
railroads now reach this city, and its importance as an industrial centre
is increasing each year.
All kinds of grains that are produced in the temperate zones will grow on
the tablelands of Mexico wherever there is sufficient rain or water to
be obtained by irrigation. A constantly increasing amount of acreage is
being made available through the extension of the irrigation system, but
its possibilities are only beginning to be realized. Corn, which is such
a great article of food with the Mexicans, is by far the most valuable
agricultural product and several hundred million bushels are produced
each year. Wheat was first introduced in Mexico by a monk who planted a
few grains that he had brought with him. This grain is now raised quite
extensively in some districts but frequently there is not enough for even
local consumption. Cotton is also produced in a number of the states.
[Illustration: THE _MAGUEY_]
Mexico is especially rich in fibre-producing plants and no country in the
world has so many different varieties. All of these belong to the great
cactus, or _agave_, family. The value of the cactus has never been fully
appreciated but new uses are being found for it constantly, and new kinds
with valuable qualities are being discovered in Mexico almost yearly.
Perhaps the most valuable plant of this family that is being cultivated
in Mexico to-day is that species of the _agave_ that produces the
valuable henequen fibre of commerce. This plant very much resembles the
_maguey_ and grows on the thin, rocky, limestone soil of Yucatan. From
this fibre is made most of the binder twine and much of the rope used in
the United States. It has the threefold qualities of strength, pliability
and colour. In the past twenty years the cultivation of henequen has
grown to enormous proportions, and some of the planters have become
millionaires almost rivalling the famous bonanza kings of olden times.
The amount of henequen, or sisal, fibre exported to the United States
from 1880 to 1905 was nine million, two hundred and nineteen thousand,
two hundred and fifteen bales at an estimated value of $300,988,072.66.
In 1902 the exports reached a maximum, and amounted to $34,185,275. All
of this fibre is exported through the port of Progreso.
Several species of the cactus family are being experimented with, and it
is claimed that they will produce an excellent quality of paper pulp.
This may help to solve the problem that now bothers paper manufacturers
as the forests of spruce disappear before the woodsman’s ax. The graceful
_maguey_, the _agave americana_, is cultivated almost everywhere on the
plateau lands. It also produces a valuable fibre, but this plant is not
cultivated primarily for that purpose. The ancient races used the thorns
for pins and needles; the leaves furnished a kind of parchment for their
writings and thatch for their roofs; and the juice when fermented made
a—to them—most delicious drink. On the plains of Apam just east of the
Valley of Mexico and north of Puebla the cultivation of the _maguey_ has
reached the highest development.
The good housewife in the United States who carefully nourishes the
century plant, hoping that at least her descendants will have the
pleasure of seeing it blossom at the end of a hundred years, would be
surprised to see the immense plantations consisting of thousands of this
same plant growing here. The plant, commonly called the _maguey_, is a
native of Mexico and grows to great size. It flourishes best in rocky
and sandy soil and is quite imposing in appearance. Its dark green,
spiked leaves which lift themselves up and spread out in graceful curves,
sometimes reach a length of fifteen feet, and are a foot in breadth and
several inches thick. It requires from six to ten years for the _maguey_
to mature on its native heath. When that period arrives a slender stalk
springs up from the centre of these great leaves, twenty to thirty feet
high, upon which a great mass of small flowers is clustered. This supreme
effort exhausts the plant and, its duty to nature having been performed,
it withers and dies.
This is not the purpose for which the _maguey_ is raised on the big
plantations where the rows of graceful century plants stretch out as far
as the eye can reach in unwavering regularity. On these plantations the
_maguey_ is not permitted to flower. The Indians know, by infallible
signs, almost the very hour at which it is ready to send up the central
stalk, and it is then marked by an overseer with a cross. The stalk is
now full of the sap which is the object of its culture. Other Indians
follow up the overseer and, making an incision at the base of the plant,
extract the central portion, leaving only the rind which forms a natural
basin. Into this the sap, which is called _agua miel_, or honey-water,
and which is almost as clear as water and as sweet as honey, collects. So
quickly does this fluid gather that it is found necessary to remove it
two or three times per day. The method of gathering this sap is extremely
primitive. The Indian is provided with a long gourd at the lower end of
which is a horn. He places the small end, which is open, in the liquid
and, applying his lips to an opening in the large end, sucks the sap up
into the gourd. The sap is then emptied into a receptacle swung across
his back which is made of a whole goat-skin or pig-skin with the hair
on the inside. The _maguey_ plant will yield six or more quarts of this
“honey-water” in a day and the supply will continue from one to three
months. It is then exhausted and withers and decays. However, a new shoot
will spring up from the old roots without replanting.
This innocent looking and savoury sap is then taken to a building
prepared for the purpose and there poured into vats made of cowhides
stretched on a frame. In each vat a little sour liquor called “mother of
_pulque_” has been poured. This causes quick fermentation and in a few
hours the _pulque_ of the Mexican is ready for the market. It is at its
best after about twenty-four hours fermentation. It then has somewhat
the appearance and taste of stale buttermilk and a rancid smell. After
more fermentation it has the odour of putrid meat. The skins in which it
is carried increase this disagreeable odour. The first taste of _pulque_
to a stranger is repellant. However, it is said that, contrary to the
general rule, familiarity breeds a liking. Great virtues are claimed for
it in certain ailments and it is said to be wholesome. However this is
not the reason why the peons drink _pulque_ in such great quantities.
Several special trainloads go in each day to the City of Mexico over
one road, besides large amounts over other routes and it is a great
revenue producer for the railroads. The daily expenditure for _pulque_
in the City of Mexico alone is said to exceed twenty thousand dollars.
Physicians say that the brain is softened, digestion ruined and nerves
paralyzed by a too generous use of this liquor. Many employers of labour
will not employ labourers from the _pulque_ districts if they can
possibly get them from other sources. _Tequila_ and _Mescal_ are two
forms of ardent spirits distilled from a juice yielded by the leaves and
root of the _maguey_. They are forms of brandy that it is best for the
traveller to leave alone.