On the Mexican Highlands Part 8

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE MIGHTY CORDILLERAS]

By eight o'clock we reached the Rancho Cuyaco and stopped to obtain delicious cups of chocolate and all the oranges and bananas we could eat. The cup of chocolate prepared by the Mexican is a delightful drink. Each cup is made separately. The chocolate bean is pounded in a mortar and just enough of the vanilla bean, which here grows abundantly, is compounded with it to give it an exquisite flavor. The chocolate is thick and creamy, and if you would have your cup replenished, another ten minutes must elapse before you get it. No beverage is so refres.h.i.+ng to the traveler as a cup of this delicious chocolate.

By nine o'clock we crossed again the river La Playa, pa.s.sed the Rancho of that name and began the great ascent toward the _Tierra Fria_. I started in slippers and linen trousers and thin pajama coat. Half way up the five thousand feet, I put on my woolen jersey; by noon we were traversing the forests of pine and oak near Rancho Nuevo and s.h.i.+vering from cold. There, heavy shoes and warm corduroys were donned. We forgot that five hours before we were burning and baking in the torrid heats a mile below.

At Rancho Nuevo we found ourselves preceded by an aristocratic company of ladies and gentlemen from the distant region of La Union, near the Pacific,--three _senores_ and two _senoras_, with a number of Indian attendants. They rode fine horses, and their saddles and trappings were of the most sumptuous Mexican make. The head of the company was an elderly man with white hair and white beard, an _haciendado_ of importance. He wore narrow-pointed, tan-leather shoes; his legs were encased in high leathern leggings reaching above the knees; his trousers were tight-fitting, laced with silver cords and marked with silver b.u.t.tons along the sides; a soft white linen s.h.i.+rt was fastened loosely at the throat with a black silk scarf, and a short black velvet vest and a velvet jacket with silver b.u.t.tons and much silver braid, completed the costume. His high felt _sombrero_, gray in color, bore upon the right side a big silver monogram. About his waist a leathern belt supported pistols, and great spurs clanked at either heel. The other two _caballeros_ were clad and armed in like fas.h.i.+on.

The ladies wore long riding habits which they held up with both hands when they walked about. There were some fine rings on the fingers of the elder woman, the younger one wearing large hoop-rings in her ears, while a diamond flashed upon her left hand. Their saddles were like chairs, upon which they sat sidewise, resting both feet upon a wooden rail. I did not make out whether they themselves guided their animals with the reins, or whether these were led by the long halter lines with which the bridles were fitted out. When we arrived, the kitchen was astir preparing dinner for these guests. Meantime, the ladies stretched themselves out upon the wooden benches for their noon _siesta_ and the men stood about in groups watching us with suspicious mien. The truth is, the Mexicans of the better cla.s.s look upon Americans with great doubt. So many Americans have left their native country, for their country's good; so many American scoundrels have preyed upon the hospitality of Mexican hosts, that the Mexican of to-day has learned to require letters of introduction before he shows the stranger American the courtesy, which it is racially instinctive for him to bestow.

The company first arrived, ate, repacked, mounted and fared on some time ahead of us, although we hastened our own departure, cutting short the midday interval of rest, in order that we might reach Ario ere night should fall.

During the last few days I have ridden my mule without the inc.u.mbrance of the frightful bit and bridle, with which he was at start equipped, guiding him with halter alone, and I have found him all the better pace maker. He is black in color, above the average in size, and of that superior strain for which Spain and Mexico have long been famous, the high-bred riding mule. He has proved worthy of his trust, for during this entire journey he has never once stumbled nor made one false step, however rough the way or precipitous the declivity along which we have pa.s.sed. To-day, near the journey's end, he is the superior beast of the whole company, although at the start I was doubtful of my mount. This afternoon I have lent him to Tio, whose heavy bulk has galled the back of his mare. I have exchanged my lighter weight to this unhappy animal, whose sores will never be allowed to heal, and which will be ridden by successive travelers until wearied and harried to its death.

It was barely day-end when the white walls of Ario looked down upon us from the slopes above, and we were welcomed by our host of the Hotel Morelos with the warmth of an old friend. He was particularly cordial toward Tio, and I now witnessed, in all its perfection, the embrace of old acquaintance, which is the particular mark of regard among the Mexicans. Our host and Tio grasped their right hands and shook them cordially, then with hands still clasped each drew toward the other, looked over the other's left shoulder and clapped him several percussive slaps upon the back. This process was repeated at intervals several times until finally the two fell apart with many bows of profound esteem. I sat one morning on the Plaza Grande, before the great cathedral in Mexico City, and watched two casual acquaintance thus greet each other; first, they shook hands, then they embraced, then they shook hands again, and every few minutes repeated the handshake and embrace during the lengthy conversation, each thereby seeming to a.s.sure the other that he was really the friend he made himself out to be.

We had indeed arrived at Ario. We had made a great ride since early dawn, had been more than ten hours in the saddle, traveling some sixty miles and ascending five thousand and four hundred feet! El Padre and myself first entered the narrow streets, a little later came our _mozo_, Izus, driving before him our pack animals, and half an hour behind him came Tio and my mule. He declared the animal to be almost dead and we feared it might be so, but the next morning, when we made ready to start out again, we found his mule-s.h.i.+p, as also the horses, in perfect fettle, as though no long sweltering journey and monstrous climb had been the toil of the yesterday.

The air of the highlands was fresh and keen. Its tonic was so invigorating that we forgot fatigue, and made the journey to Santa Clara and Patzcuaro as easily as when we first set out.

On these highlands thousands of sheep are raised, and I was interested to note that of the considerable flocks we saw grazing upon the wide pasture lands along our road, the majority were black. This is said to be the result of Mexican neglect. The white sheep is the work of art.

Flocks are kept white by weeding out the black, but just as hogs when let run wild will revert to the stronger color, so, too, the flocks of Mexico, inasmuch as they have been wholly neglected from the day when Spanish masters.h.i.+p was destroyed, have reverted to the hardier hue, until to-day the larger percentage are black. To destroy these black sheep now would bring too great a loss.

In a land like this, where the horse and the mule and the _burro_, as well as man, are the chief means of transport, one is continually surprised at the heavy burdens borne, and the skill and care with which the loads are carried. A piano is taken apart, packed upon a train of mules and taken to a distant village or _hacienda_. Elegant and fragile furniture, made in France or other continental countries, is thus conveyed. In every community there are expert cabinetmakers, who can repair and put together the most expensive furniture, and who do the work so deftly that it is even stronger than when originally made.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A FLOCK OF SHEEP, NEAR ARIO]

There is no burden that a single Indian, or a couple of Indians, or a dozen Indians, will not bear upon their shoulders to any point or any distance you may name. These loads and burdens are carried with a care and safety that might be a lesson to the baggage-smashers and freight-breakers of our modern railways.

When we drew near Patzcuaro, we overtook mult.i.tudes of Indians, men, women and children, all journeying in the same direction as ourselves.

Upon inquiry, we learned that they were traveling to Patzcuaro there to take part in the _fiesta_ celebration held in honor of Our Lady of Guadaloupe, the patron-saint of Mexico, the Indian Madonna, whom the swarthy citizens of the republic adore. The nearer we approached the city, the greater the press of peones filling the roadways which lead to it. In the town the streets were thronged with these strange, wild people--Tarascon Indians most of them--many having saved up through all the year for this occasion, and now come here to blow in their scanty h.o.a.rds in one single week. A thousand games of chance were in full blast. All sorts of schemes were being cried, every one of them calculated to rob the pious Indian of his uttermost _centavo_. Along the curbs hundreds of little charcoal fires were lit, where food was roasting over braziers. Men were walking through the streets with pigskin sacks of _pulque_ on their backs and a gourd cup in hand, crying "only a _centavo_ for a drink!" _Dulce_ boys were carrying upon their heads large baskets of guava sweetmeats and candied fruits.

Bakers went by with rings of bread about their necks and small rings of bread braceleted upon their arms. In the churches a continuous service is kept going all through the day and night, and the pious gambler of the _plaza_ has full opportunity to rob the peon and enrich the church. Along the wayside, groups of Indians are squatting, exchanging gossip; hundreds of men are leaning against the walls, wherever the shade gives refuge from the sun, silent and wrapped in bright-hued _zerapes_, seeing all, but saying never a word. At the Fonda Diligencia, next the big church, a company of gentlemen of fortune from Mexico City, clad in dress suits and stovepipe hats, have opened handsome games of _Caballos_ and _Rouge et Noir_, and about these are gathered the _Dons_ and _Donas_ of the town. I see a priest step to the table, put down his money and make a win; a venturesome Indian, who has eyed the _padre_ questioningly, now rea.s.sured, also steps up, puts down a few _centavos_ and loses all!

[Ill.u.s.tration: STREET SCENE--PATZCUARO]

We rest again at the Hotel Concordia. We find our room where our baggage has been safely stored. We take off our corduroys and put on fresh linen and appear again dressed just as we might be when at home.

Izus is sorry to say good-bye. We add one half to his pay for his efficient service, and I present him with my large bowie knife to his delight. I offer him a double price for the fine fighting c.o.c.k he has brought from Noria, but this he will not give up. He has a neighbor whose chicken killed his own some months ago. He has now found a bird which will give him sweet revenge and as to selling it, money has no value in his eyes!

XV

Morelia--The Capital of the State of Michoacan--Her Streets--Her Parks--Her Churches--Her Music

MORELIA, STATE OF MICHOACAN, MEXICO, _December 12th_.

The Congress of the great State of Michoacan, as big a state as ten West Virginias, with a population of six hundred and fifty thousand, is in session at the State capital, Morelia. It meets three times a week in the Palace. A learned member of the bar and a member of Congress, escorted me to the dignified body, and formally introduced me as "_Senor Licenciado Eduardos, del Estado de 'Quest Verhinia,' de los Estados Unidos del Norte._" All the members arose to receive me.

There is only one chamber. Its fourteen members make all the laws for Michoacan, always subject to the approval of President Diaz in Mexico City. Diaz decides who shall be the fourteen members. He instructs the Governor of the State to have elected the fourteen men whom he names, and those fourteen are always chosen, and no others. President Diaz also says who shall be elected Governors of the different States, and they are always elected.

After this Congress had saluted me and I had bowed in response, we all sat down in the handsome room. The fourteen were mostly small dark men with good heads. The President of the Congress was an old man with white hair, a wrinkled face and long white _mustachios_. He did most of the talking on all measures. He kept his seat while he talked. The first business before the Congress was "Reports of Committees." Each member was a whole committee. Each committee made a report, and stood up, facing the President to make it. The chief matter under consideration was a railroad concession to Americans, involving a land grant of thousands of acres. The Congress will grant it because President Diaz says the railroad should have it. After an hour or more of talking, the Congress adjourned. The members came up and were introduced. I shook hands several times with each member and still more often with the President.

Adjoining the hall of Congress were several large rooms, the walls hung with portraits of the great men of Michoacan, who helped to make Mexico free, and who helped to destroy Maximilian. This fine city of thirty-five thousand people was formerly called Valladolid. But when the Spaniards shot the patriot, Morelos, ignominiously in the back, the people changed its name to Morelia,--for Morelos was their fellow-townsman,--and they clanged the church bells and made bonfires and illuminated their houses when the last Spanish Viceroy was driven from the land.

The _senor_ by whom I had the honor of being introduced to the Congress, I afterward had the pleasure of meeting more intimately in his law office, _Senor Don Licenciado_ Vicente Garcia, Senator, Judge, Counselor of State, and Lawyer profoundly versed in the curious learning of Spanish-Mexican law. He is a gentleman of the Old School, a cultivated Mexican of that small cla.s.s among whom have been continuously preserved scholars.h.i.+p and learning, since the earliest advent of the few Doctors of the Law, who accompanied the first Viceroys to New Spain. Men ripe in mediaeval scholars.h.i.+p, apart from the teachings and doctrines of the Canon Law, they have always formed a distinct cla.s.s in Mexico, even as in Old Spain, and have jealously cherished that seed of intellectual independence from which has successfully developed the opposition of the State to the incessant and covert encroachment of the Roman Church.

In _Senor_ Garcia's library of well stored shelves I noted many curious and ancient vellum-leaved tomes, containing some of the earliest printed codes of Mexican law, as well as treatises in French upon the Napoleonic Code, and there were some few decisions, in French, of the Courts of Louisiana. There was also a Blackstone in English and a few newly bound law treatises in that tongue,--volumes belonging to his son, he said, who was taking a special course in English in the University of the State.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A VISTA IN MORELIA]

_Don Licenciado_ Garcia is a short-set man with whitening hair and gray moustache and intellectual face. You at once know him to be the student and the scholar, although with dark gla.s.ses screening his eyes, he pathetically informed us that he was fast growing blind.

Indeed, he can no longer see to write or read, but employs a reader and trusts to his son for all correspondence, thus conducting his large practice with eyes and hands other than his own. We found him a busy man, for in Mexico the courts are perpetually in session, and a case once on the docket is liable to be called at any time.

There are many such men in the Mexican Republic as _Senor_ Garcia, and to them must really be credited much of the conservative disposition of the government. They are the conservators of scholarly liberalism, and form a community of intelligence and learning upon whom President Diaz can always rely to give a.s.sistance and direction in sustaining and preserving the stability of the Republic.

Morelia is a city older than any city of the United States. Its streets were paved before Boston was out of the swamps, and before Richmond was thought of. All Mexican cities are paved, every street, every alley. A great aqueduct, built on immense arches, brings an abundant supply of sweet, fresh water. There are many beautiful parks in these Mexican cities, all kept in perfect order at munic.i.p.al expense. In them, flowering shrubs, roses, geraniums and heliotropes, grown to veritable trees, are ever in bloom; there are orange and lemon, pomegranate and fig, palm and banana trees; there are statues and flowing fountains, and great carved stone seats, all free to the people.

There is plenty of flowing water on these high tablelands, and already its power, harnessed to the turbine and dynamo, is giving the people free electric lights. The Mexican towns and the city governments are run for the benefit of the people. There are no monopolies. If President Diaz hears that a mayor, a city council, or a Congress is not running things as he judges they should, he just hints to the gentleman to resign. If he does not comply, a polite invitation requests him to come to the Capital and dine with the President. If he is not hungry and fails to come, then a few soldiers (numbering in one case a small army), come down and politely escort the gentleman to the dinner. He may be shot, he may be permitted to live quietly somewhere in the President's city with a soldier for a life companion,--but he never goes home. An Ex-governor of the State of Guerrero has been living in Mexico City, with a soldier for a chum, these twenty years!

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE CATHEDRAL--MORELIA]

Mexican cities are clean. A man who doesn't sweep his sidewalk, who disobeys a notice to keep it clean, may wake up in jail. There is no "_habeas corpus_" in Mexico. Once in jail, a man may stay there a lifetime. And Mexican jails are not pleasant places wherein long to abide.

Each State is divided into _Distritos_, corresponding to our counties.

Each _Distrito_, instead of having a county court as do our West Virginia counties, has a _Jefe Politico_ (Political Chief) appointed by the Governor. He keeps the peace, he runs the county. If he is a bad man, the Governor with the approval of President Diaz, may have the _Jefe_ removed or shot. The _Jefe_ ("Hefy") within his _Distrito_ has the power of life and death. If a citizen raises "too much h.e.l.l"

in his precinct, the first thing he knows he is taken out in the woods by a band of _rurales_--(rural police)--and promptly shot, and he is buried where he falls. A man thus arrested and shot is said to have "tried to escape and been shot while escaping." No questions are asked. The _Jefe_ rules his _Distrito_ with a hand of steel in a glove of velvet, just as President Diaz rules the nation.

Mexico has an able, intelligent, if arbitrary government. She is awake. She is progressive. I have been amazed at the wealth and beauty, the cleanliness and comfort of her towns and cities, at the splendor of her capital, at the fertility and variety of her soils and climates,--the perpetual spring of Ario and Morelia and Toluca and Mexico City,--the eternal summer and tropical heats of the lowlands of the _Tierra Caliente_, while between the lofty highlands and the lowlands lie the temperate levels, the _Tierra Templada_, where are climates ranging from those of Cuba to Quebec.

Three hundred years ago Spanish civilization was ahead of that of England and Germany. But Spain and her colonies stood still. To-day our Teutonic peoples are in the lead. Progressive Mexicans, who have no love for Spain, know this, and are fast learning what we have to teach.

No one thing has pleased me more in this splendid, opulent country than to discover that everywhere men are eager to learn the American tongue. That language is taught in all public schools, in all the colleges. It is the hope and pride of every man of means to have his son able to speak English. In fifty years, or less, English will have largely driven out the Spanish speech, and none are more eager for this result than the progressive ruling men of Mexico.

Morelia has much civic pride, and above all else she is proud of her music; proud of her bands. Once a year the musical _Morelianos_ have a compet.i.tion among themselves, and the band declared the winner is sent to Mexico City to contest with bands from other cities for the musical pre-eminence of the Republic. Great interest is taken in these musical contests. For several years the champion band of Morelia has carried off the national prize. To play in the band is a mark of distinction, and the band leader is a local dignitary. The chief band plays in the _plaza_ throughout each afternoon. This park is filled with fine trees, with many flowers, and has several fountains and comfortable seats, where you may sit and listen to the plash of the tinkling waters and the moving melodies of the band. These seats are free to all. Then, too, there are chairs for which the city sells the privilege, and the chairs are rented for _cinco centavos_ (five cents Mexican, equal to about two cents United States) per hour, for a plain rough-bottom chair; _vicenti-cinco centavos_ (twenty-five cents Mexican) for a big chair with arms. You pay your money, you sit in your chair and enjoy the music as long as you care to listen. Poor _peones_ sit on the free benches; those who have the few _centavos_ to spare rent a plain chair. The rich merchants and _haciendados_ rent the big chairs, and sit there with their families gossiping and applauding the music and watching the circling throngs who walk around the square. The _senoritas_, three or four abreast, with chaperons, walk on the inside of the broad pavement. The das.h.i.+ng _caballeros_ and _rancherros_, the dudes and the beaux, in their bravest adornment, walk three or four abreast in the other direction on the outside.

Young gentlemen may never speak to young ladies upon the streets, but they dart burning glances at them, and the black eyes of the _senoritas_ are not slow in their response.

I spent one morning viewing the markets and watching the city life on the streets. In Mexico your social standing is marked by the shoeing of your feet, the covering of your head; your boots and your hats are the two things a Mexican first looks at when approaching you. The Mexican loves to thrust his feet into long, narrow toothpick-pointed shoes; the smaller and daintier the happier he is. For a hat, the costly _sombrero_, for which fifty to one hundred dollars are often paid, covers the man of means; sometimes a hat may cost twice this sum. It may be of felt, or of expensive braided straw with a band of woven gold or silver threads about the crown. Generally, a large gold or silver monogram several inches high is on one side. I wore a pair of broad-soled, oil-dressed walking shoes, with big eyelet holes for the laces. Substantial and comfortable, they would have been quite correct in the States, but the pa.s.sing throngs upon the streets stared with frank perplexity at these, to them, extraordinary shoes. My st.u.r.dy foot gear became the comment of the town. As I sat in the park in the afternoon, several groups of the young and fas.h.i.+onable came up, and pausing, gazed intently at my novel footwear. My hat, a comfortable slouch of the trooper type, also seemed to them of wonderfully little cost--"Only five dollars for a hat!" "_Ciertamente!

El Senor_ must have paid more than that!" The American trousers, not fitting tightly to the leg, were also remarked. It is complained, that the young men of wealthy Mexican families, who are now attending Cornell and Harvard and Yale, instead of going to old Spain or to France, return in these American clothes, and insist upon wearing these loose American trousers to the scandal of conservative fas.h.i.+on.

Among the ladies, however, the American hat has not yet conquered the _mantilla_, and for this I have been thankful. The graceful _mantilla_ is so attractive and sits so daintily about the black-braided brow of the _senora_ and the _senorita_ who pa.s.s you by!

It is against the laws of Mexico for the religious orders any longer to live within the Republic, but at Morelia there are said to be several of these orders existing clandestinely. A group of ladies, whom we met at the station of departure, all quietly gowned in black, wearing black _tapalos_--like a _reboso_ but of more costly material--about their heads, were pointed out to me as a _subrosa_ company of nuns.

Morelia is the seat of an Archbishop. The cathedral is a beautiful duplicate of that of Valladolid, in old Spain. It is kept in perfect repair. Within, it is resplendent with gold and silver and richly colored walls and roof. It possesses many beautiful statues of the saints and one of the finest organs in the world. The rich Archbishop is said to be worth more than six millions of dollars (Mexican). He is said to own thousands of fertile acres of the best lands in the State of Michoacan. (All of this worldly wealth the Archbishop holds _subrosa_, contrary to the letter of the law.)

There are several hundred churches in Morelia. Here Roman Ecclesiasticism looms large and makes itself attractive to the people.

We attended a night special celebration of the Ma.s.s in a fine, large church, dedicated to _Nuestra Senora de Guadeloupe_. The church within and without was illuminated with thousands of electric lights. A full orchestra was employed, violins, cellos and mandolins, flutes, cornets, horns and trombones, a fine organ as well as a piano, while several hundred men and boys ca.s.sock-clad, chanted and sang in wonderful harmony with the exquisite orchestral music. Many of the voices revealed the highest cultivation, and some of the male sopranos rose strong and sweet and clear as the tones of a Nordica.

As we stood near the portal of the church, listening to the music and watching the mult.i.tude of wors.h.i.+pers, an Indian, wild as the Cordilleras of Guerrero, whence he came, timidly entered and paused in the marble portal as one transfixed. His hard, rough feet were without sandals. His red _zerape_ hung in shreds over his tattered, once white garments. His shock of black hair had never known a comb; and even though at last he doffed his _sombrero_, it was some moments before he pulled it off. He came from the outer darkness. He stood in the blazing glare of the thousand lights, forgetting to cross himself, listening to the mighty melody of the great chorus and many instruments, staring at the brilliant scene. His eyes grew large, his face stiffened, his breast heaved. He conceived himself transported to Paradise! My Protestant missionary friend watched him as did I, and then turning to me, observed, "Can you wonder that the Protestant missionary is not in it, when he undertakes to compete with the sumptuous splendor and organized magnificence of ritual and edifice in the Roman Church? Our only chance is to open schools for the children, take them young and instruct them early, and then, perhaps, when they grow up, some few of them may have learned to adhere to the simple doctrine and plain practice of our Protestant teaching."