Aztec Land

The horse is of Arabian descent. His sire must have been imported from continental Spain, and being crossed upon native stock has produced a medium-sized, high-spirited, handsome animal, with a broad chest expanded by the air of this altitude, the nostrils being widespread, the ears small, and the eyes full of intelligence. The horse's saddle, bridle, and trappings are gorgeous with silver ornaments, without the least regard to usefulness, twenty-four inches square of leather fancifully worked and shaped being attached to each stirrup. His rider appears in a short leather jacket, bedizened with silver buttons, tight pantaloons of the same material, also heavy with silver buttons, being partially opened at the side and flaring at the bottom. He does not wear a waistcoat, but has a mountain of frills on the linen bosom of his shirt, set off by a red scarf tied about the waist. The spurs upon his heels are of silver, weighing at least half a pound each, while the rowels are an inch long. On his head is a sombrero of yellow or brown felt, the brim of which is twelve to fifteen inches broad, and the crown measuring the same in height. The sombrero is covered with gilt cord formed into a sort of rope where it makes the band. The wearer's monogram, in gold or silver letters from two to four inches long, on the side of the crown, completes the whole. Every article is of the finest material, and therein, principally, he differs from a Western cowboy or a dandified Buffalo Bill.

During the period of Lent, owing to some caprice of fashion, the Paseo de la Viga becomes the popular afternoon resort for vehicles and equestrians.

While we are making these notes, sitting upon the curbstone of a fountain of the paseo, we are personally reminded that the lottery ticket vender is ubiquitous. Sometimes it is a man who importunes you to purchase, sometimes a young girl, and at others even a child of eleven or twelve years belonging to either sex. The pretty girl of course finds the most customers, offering to "kiss the ticket for good luck," and on the sly, perhaps the purchaser also. This must be a Spanish idea, as it is practiced both in Madrid and Cuba. The Mexican government realizes fully a million dollars per annum from the licenses granted to protect this gross swindle upon the public. It is a regular thing for prominent business houses to make their monthly purchases of these lottery tickets; rich and poor, prince and beggar, alike invest, differing only in the amount; while most strangers, smothering their conscientious scruples, purchase a ticket, thus adding their mite to the general folly. We were told in Havana that one satisfaction in buying tickets in the national lottery there was, that like the Louisiana Lottery it was honestly conducted. Our incredulity upon the subject was laughed to scorn, but since then the Havana Lottery has been detected in a series of the most barefaced swindlings that can be imagined. As to that of Louisiana, we never for a moment have believed in there being anything "honest" about it. A concern which can afford to offer the State government of Louisiana over a million dollars per annum for the privilege of running a gambling institution there, must carry on a more reckless swindling game upon the public at large than its worst enemies have suspected.

Just at high noon, on our return from the Paseo de la Viga, the Plaza Mayor was reached on the great square fronting the cathedral, where a simultaneous movement was observed among the people who filled the large area. As the cathedral and church bells throughout the city chimed the hour of twelve, every Mexican in sight uncovered his head and bowed devoutly. It was difficult to analyze this spirit of reverence, for which no one could assign any satisfactory reason except that it was the custom.

The swarthy soldiers of the republic are often seen paraded opposite the plaza, and though they are sure to recall the French Zouaves, yet they lack their admirable discipline and perfection of company movements. Indeed, to speak plainly, the author has never seen a more slatternly, knock-kneed, uncouth body of soldiers than the rank and file of the Mexican army. The white gaiters of the French Zouaves moving all together have a fine effect when a body of them are marching through a Parisian boulevard; but the Mexican soldiers have neither stockings nor gaiters, besides which they do not pretend to keep step at all when marching. They move at will, while the bottoms of their feet only are covered with the crudest sort of sandals, laced about the ankles with leather thongs. Every soldier in the Mexican service is his own shoemaker. An intelligent officer, in reply to a question regarding the sandal for army use, said: "They are far more comfortable for a soldier on the march than any shoe that can be made. They are cool, cheap, and do not irritate the feet. They can be renewed anywhere in this country, and a sandal that will fit one man will do for any other in the regiment. In a warm climate nothing is so suitable for the feet of a soldier." It is well known that so painful will close shoes often become to the foot soldier, that he will take them off and throw them away in despair when making a forced march, preferring to walk barefooted rather than endure the suffering caused by swollen feet and tight shoes, which cannot occur when the sandal is used. The feet have always perfect freedom in them, and the sole and toes are protected. Neither men nor women of the common class wear stockings, and in fact nine out of ten of the population of the country go barefooted all the year round.

It puzzles a stranger to see a good military band – and they are excellent musicians here – play upon their instruments in perfect harmony, and at the same time march out of step or cadence with the music. It would seem almost impossible for one possessing a true musical ear to perform such a trick. With any European or American band, both feet and instruments would get out of accord constantly, or fall into it naturally. Like the king's guard in Hawaii, the troops here parade in white linen or cotton uniforms, stout and unbleached, with a plenty of silvered buttons, the cap being white and of the same material as the rest of the simple costume. At times they appear in a plain uniform of dark blue, but this is on special occasions only, as it is considered to be full dress. The officers are nearly all graduates of the military school at Chapultepec, where the best of foreign teachers are employed in the various departments, so that in future it is confidently expected that the army will be found in a more efficient condition than ever before. The common soldiers, we were told, are composed of rather questionable material. A large percentage of them are criminals released from prison on condition of their enlisting and serving for a certain length of time in the ranks of the regular army. On the caps of those serving out a term of imprisonment in this manner are certain marks indicating the same, as well as showing the length of the prescribed service. Punishment is ever prompt in this country, and despotic methods prevail. Any one attempting to evade his term of service, or breaking army regulations, is very apt to have his business settled by a bullet at once, without even the form of a trial. The department of the cavalry seemed to a casual observer to be much more efficient than that of the infantry. The fact is, the average Mexican is an admirable horseman, and appears better in that capacity than in any other. The national or standing army numbers about forty-five thousand of all arms, besides which each state has a regular militia force, but of a poorly organized character, in most instances, as we were informed, being neither uniformed, nor drilled at regular periods. President Diaz is opposed to the employment of criminals, such as we have described, thinking with good reason that it has a tendency to bring disrepute upon the service. This would seem to be such an unquestionable fact as to admit of no argument.

As, in the case of the first Spanish invasion, Cortez with his handful of followers could not have conquered and possessed Mexico but for the dissensions existing among the several native tribes, so, as regards the French invasion and attempt to seat Maximilian on the throne of a new American empire, these invaders could not have met with even the partial success which they achieved had the Mexican people presented an unbroken front in opposition. The American invasion was also more or less favorably affected by partisan divisions among the Mexicans. The present organization of the army is upon a basis so national, and is governed by a spirit so faithful to the whole union of the states, that in case of another war Mexico could put a large and effective army into the field. In other words, she is better prepared to-day than ever before to successfully maintain her national integrity by force of arms.

The famous cathedral of Mexico, with its tall twin towers and graceful dome, is built of unhewn stone, and fronts upon the Plaza Mayor, forming the main architectural feature of the city. Ninety years did not suffice to complete it, and several millions of dollars were expended in the original construction. Among the sixty churches of the capital it is preeminent for its vast proportions and elaborate architectural finish. The edifice stands upon the spot, or very near it, which, was once occupied by the great Aztec temple dedicated to the war god of the nation, which the Spaniards promptly destroyed after subjugating the natives and taking full possession of the place. The first church on this site after the destruction of the idolatrous temple was founded by Charles V. His successor ordered it to be pulled down, and the present edifice erected in its place. We are told that the great Aztec temple was surrounded by walls having four gates fronting the four cardinal points, and that within the enclosure were five hundred dwellings accommodating the priests and priestesses, and others who were devoted to religious dances and devotional ceremonies connected with the worship and service of the idols. Five thousand priests chanted night and day before the altars. Consecrated fountains and gardens of holy flowers were there, mingling barbaric fanaticism with natural beauty. In describing these matters the old priests and monks gave free scope to their imaginations.

The ancient temple was pyramidal, the summit being about one hundred and fifty feet above the ground, and accessible by numerous broad stone steps. On the platform at the top, according to Spanish authorities, human sacrifices took place not only daily but hourly; wars were made with neighboring tribes to supply victims for the altar, and when there was a revolt among the native tribes, it was subdued by the strong arm, while the offending district was compelled to supply a certain number of their people to die on the sacrificial stone. It is represented that the number of lives thus disposed of was reckoned by tens of thousands. David A. Wells, in his able and comprehensive work entitled, "A Study of Mexico," says of these Spanish chroniclers that their representations are the merest romance, no more worthy of credence than the stories of "Sindbad the Sailor," though from this source alone Prescott drew the data for his popular "Conquest of Mexico." One of these chroniclers, who gives his name as Bernal Diaz, not only repeats these stories of the multitudinous sacrifice of human beings at the rate of thousands monthly, but charges the Cholulans with "fattening men and women to use for food, keeping them in pens as animals are fatted!" Wilson pronounces this to be intolerable nonsense, and though Diaz pretends to have been one of Cortez's soldiers, always with him throughout his remarkable invasion, Wilson proves clearly that he was never in the country at all. His obvious and constant blunders as to geography and other matters would alone convict him of being a pretender and not a true witness. Besides which, he contradicts both himself and Cortez's account in many important particulars. We believe, with Wilson, that this name of Bernal Diaz is a pure fabrication, gotten up as a priestly scheme to further their own purposes, and cover up the insufferable wickedness of the Roman Church in Mexico, as well as to screen the bloodthirsty career of its agent Cortez. Las Casas declared all these Spanish histories of the conquest to be wicked and false. He wrote a history himself, from personal observation, but as it would have exposed the falsehoods and schemes of the priestly chroniclers, it was promptly suppressed by the all-powerful Inquisition.

In destroying and leveling the great sacrificial mound which formed the pyramid supporting the Aztec temple, together with the debris of the dismantled dwellings and temples generally belonging to the native race, the Spanish conquerers must have found ample material wherewith to fill up the many canals and small lakes which made of this ancient Aztec capital another Venice. Every vestige of aboriginal architecture has disappeared from the surface of the city. Three hundred and sixty odd years have served to turn the probably frail dwellings of the people completely to dust. So, also, have the earliest structures of the Spaniards disappeared. There are few of their churches which have not been rebuilt. The causeways which connected the ancient city with the mainland are still considerably higher than the general level of the plain, and are thus distinctly marked, besides being bordered with venerable umbrageous trees, tall and graceful, producing a fine effect, particularly when seen from a distance, forming divisional lines in the broad and varied landscape.

The façade of the present grand cathedral, at each side of which rises a massive tower crowned by a bell-shaped dome, is divided by buttresses into three parts, and though there is some confusion of orders, Doric and Ionic prevailing, still as a whole the front is majestic and imposing. The towers are each over two hundred feet in height, and are also of mingled orders. In the western tower is the great bell, nineteen feet high, named Santa Maria de Guadalupe. We know of nothing of the sort exceeding it in size and weight except the great Russian bell to be seen in the square of the Kremlin at Moscow. The basso-relievos, statues, friezes, and capitals of the façade of the great edifice are of white marble, which time has rendered harmonious with the gray stone. Though millions of dollars have been lavishly expended upon the interior, – the cost of the bare walls was over two millions, – it will strike an artistic eye as incongruous. Like the grand and costly interiors of the churches at Toledo, Burgos, and Cordova, in Spain, the general effect is seriously marred by placing the choir in the middle of the nave. It is like breaking midway some otherwise grand perspective. The cathedral is over four hundred feet in length and two hundred in width. Quadruple pillars, each thirty-five feet in circumference, support its roof, which is a hundred and seventy-five feet from the floor. The high altar – there are six altars in all – was once the richest in the world, and though the church has been many times plundered, it still retains much of its magnificence. The solid gold candlesticks, heavier than a single pair of arms could lift, the statue of the Assumption, which was also composed of solid gold, inlaid with diamonds, rubies, and other precious stones, valued at a million dollars, besides many other equally extravagant and nearly as costly objects, have from time to time disappeared. But with all of its losses, this cathedral is doubtless decorated in a more costly manner than any other in America. The railing of the choir is a remarkable affair, manufactured in China at great cost, and weighs nearly thirty tons. It is said to be composed of silver, gold, and copper, containing so much gold that an offer has been made to take it down and replace it with one of solid silver in exchange. The original cost of this railing is stated to have been one million and a half dollars! (Spanish authority.) There are a dozen or more side chapels, inclosed in bronze gates, in one of which the Mexican Emperor Iturbide is buried, though he was condemned and executed as a traitor. Two invaluable oil paintings hang upon the walls, a genuine Murillo and an original Michael Angelo. A dim light pervades the interior of the cathedral, tempered by the flare of tall candles, but it lacks the beautiful effect of stained glass windows. The imagination, however, is very active, and easily summons from the dim past ghostly shadows, while an overpowering sense of height and silence prevails.

Here Maximilian and Carlotta were crowned, in 1864, emperor and empress, with great ceremony, little dreaming how briefly their imperial honors would remain to them.

In contemplating this grand architectural development, as well as the hundreds of other similar structures, erected at such enormous expenditures of money and labor, one cannot but be exercised by mingled emotions. We are apt to recall how much of absolute misery was entailed upon the down-trodden natives, who were compelled to work for barely sufficient food to sustain life. The control of the priesthood was absolute; they levied taxes upon everything and everybody. They were amenable to no civil laws, and recognized none but those of the church. The extent to which they carried their extortion is almost beyond belief, and the amount of wealth which they accumulated is nearly incredible. At the time of the reform, the clergy absolutely owned three fourths of the entire property of the country.

The view from the towers of the cathedral, – in which there are between forty and fifty costly bells, each dedicated to some saint or martyr, – is so remarkable that not even the most casual visitor to the capital should miss it. It presents such a picture as promptly photographs itself on the brain, never to be obliterated. It was from this locality, on the summit of the Aztec temple which stood here four hundred years ago, that Montezuma pointed out to Cortez the beauties of his capital and its fairy-like environs, so soon to be destroyed by the hands of the ruthless invader. At our feet lies the tree-dotted plaza, with its central pleasure-garden and its fine architectural surroundings, including the long, white façade of the national palace, while the entire city is spread out before us with its myriad domes, spires, thoroughfares, and causeways. There are typical scenes and groups everywhere formed by the eddies of busy life. Long lines of heavy-laden burros thread the streets, the natives assume the size of huge insects crawling about in bright colors, the blooming trees are like button-hole bouquets, and dashing horsemen move about like animated marionettes. Not far away looms against the blue sky the tall castle of Chapultepec, while the clustered towers of Guadalupe, the Mecca of all pious Mexicans, comes still nearer to the vision. The many outlying villages upon the plateau, each with its central spire, recall the lovely plains of Granada. The distant fields of maguey, the verdant patches of alfalfa, luxuriant meadows, groups of grazing cattle, and the two arched stone aqueducts are all prominent features presenting themselves to the eye, together with the gardens and villas of Tacubaya and San Angel. As we gaze at the unequaled panorama, which Humboldt pronounced to be the most beautiful the eye ever rested upon, the thought forced itself upon us that with all its scenic beauty, this valley and plain of Anahuac has for centuries been cursed with crime and barbarism. The whole scene is inclosed by a grand circle of mountains, just far enough away to clothe them in charming purple. The rarefied atmosphere adds distinctness and brilliancy of coloring to everything. Two of these sky-reaching elevations are of world-wide reputation, namely, Mount Popocatepetl ("the smoking mountain"), and Mount Ixtaccihuatl ("the white woman"). The former presents so perfect a conical form, while the summit is rounded into a dome of dazzling whiteness, that it seems to far exceed the height of eighteen thousand feet which is accorded to it; and though it does not rise abruptly from sea level to its giddy height, like Mount Tacoma in the State of Washington, still in shape it much resembles that noble elevation.

Cortez in 1520 and Scott in 1847 led their conquering hosts over the elevated pass which nature had formed between these mountains. The two summits are connected by a well-wooded ridge, itself some three thousand feet in height, looking from a distance like a deep valley between the grand mountains. While regarding the interesting scene, it was natural to compare the loftiest elevation before us with that of the Valley of Chamounix. Mont Blanc is a little less than sixteen thousand feet at its summit above the sea. Popocatepetl is a little less than eighteen thousand, but the latter rises from the plateau of Mexico, which is over seven thousand feet above the sea, while Mont Blanc at the base, is only thirty-five hundred feet above the ocean. Thus about two thousand feet more of elevation is visible to the eye in the Swiss mountain than the Mexican monarch shows above the plain.

In the rear of the cathedral, and adjoining it, is an interesting chapel known as the Capilla de las Animas, "Chapel of the Souls." It is really a part of the cathedral, though arranged quite separate from it, facing upon the Calle de las Escalerillas. We find no record of its origin, though it is said to have been built in 1748 to replace a similar edifice which was destroyed by fire. The branch of business to which this chapel is devoted, as we were told upon the spot, was to pray to the good God to release souls from purgatory! One Concha, a priest who carried on this lucrative farce until he was eighty-seven years old, died so long ago as 1755, having, as the church record shows, "celebrated" over forty-five thousand masses in his time; the amount of cash received for the same is not set down. As the priests do nothing on credit, officiating at marriages or funerals, selling indulgences or performing masses for cash only, this good man must have realized for his services, in the aggregate, at the very lowest reasonable estimate, about one million dollars. Undoubtedly high rates were sometimes paid to get a very "hard case" out of purgatory. Sinners who dreaded a future state of punishment, as a just reward for their evil deeds on earth, were accustomed to leave Father Concha a good round sum of money, to pray them out of the uncomfortable quarters to which they expected to be consigned after departing from this life. Like a certain shrewd Irishman, they "accepted" purgatory, fearing they might go further and fare worse.