The Ancient Cities of the New World

My former Mission-The present one-Why called Franco-American-Vera Cruz-Railway from Vera Cruz to Mexico-Warm Region-Temperate Region-Cordova-Orizaba-Maltrata-Cold Region-Esperanza-Puebla and Tlascala-The Old Route.

When I started for Mexico in 1880, I already knew something of the country, having, in the year 1857, been sent out as delegate for my Government to explore parts of it. At that time I was rich in hopes and full of grand intentions, but poor in knowledge and light of purse, and I soon learnt that the work I had undertaken was of so difficult and complicated a character, that the whole thing was beyond my powers; and, finding that from want both of money and of technical knowledge I was unable to carry out the great schemes I had imagined, I contented myself with simply photographing some of the monuments as I visited them, without even venturing to add any comment thereto. Now all was different. Better prepared in every way: with additional knowledge, backed by influential supporters, and with the aid of numerous documents which I had collected, I felt I might reasonably hope to be able to throw some light on one of the most obscure corners of the history of man.

But at the very moment when the Minister of Public Instruction, on the advice of the Commission for Missions and Travels, was again entrusting me with the exploration of Mexico, that I might study its monuments, it so chanced that a rich American, Mr. Lorillard, of New York, was also minded to fit out a scientific expedition for the same purpose, and that I was the man he had fixed upon to direct it. The latter had already set apart a considerable sum of money for the expedition, so that I found myself placed in a somewhat delicate position, for, by refusing Mr. Lorillard, I should have risked a dangerous competition in the very country and the very places I was to explore; and, by accepting, I should have seemed to give up my nationality, and to deprive my own country of many precious documents and interesting collections. I felt myself, therefore, fortunate in being able to combine the two rival expeditions, and, under the name of a Franco-American Mission, to carry out the important work, and in this I was assisted by the unparalleled generosity of Mr. Lorillard, who gave up to France all the fruits of my labour, my researches, and my discoveries. It was under such circumstances that I started on the 26th of March, 1880, and taking New York on my way, to pay my respects to my generous sleeping-partner, I reached Vera Cruz at the end of April.

The aspect of Vera Cruz, seen from the sea, is anything but pretty, consisting of a monotonous line of houses, blackened by heavy rain and the driving Norte. Built on a sandy shore, surrounded by barren hills stripped of all vegetation, and low-lying lagoons, Vera Cruz may safely be pronounced the most unhealthy place in Mexico. Yellow fever is never absent from its shores, and with every new batch of immigrants it becomes epidemic and violent in the extreme, fastening on the newcomers with unusual severity. We learnt that to our cost, at the time of the war of intervention, when our soldiers were literally decimated by this fearful scourge. It became necessary to replace the white troops by negro battalions, the latter withstanding better than Europeans the fury of the epidemic.

A VIEW OF VERA CRUZ AND THE FORT OF SAN JUAN OF ULLOA.

Vera Cruz can scarcely be said to possess a harbour, having only an indifferent anchorage, in which ships are far from safe. Fort St. Juan affords the only shelter, but in bad weather vessels frequently break from their moorings, and are thrown or driven on to the coast. A storm here is synonymous with north wind, and when it blows no words can give an adequate idea of its violence; it is not a straightforward, honest tempest, such as every good manner knows how to cope with, but it comes in terrific and sudden squalls, carrying whirlwinds of sand, which penetrate the best-closed houses; consequently, on the first indication of its approach, every dwelling is securely fastened, barges are taken in and chained up, vessels lower their double anchors, the harbour becomes empty, all work is suspended, and the place wears the aspect of a deserted city. The thermometer falls suddenly, the porter, with teeth chattering, wraps himself in his blanket, a woollen overcoat is quickly substituted for the ordinary white holland jacket, and every one goes about shivering with cold. The pier is soon hidden by the huge waves raised by the disturbed element, in the harbour vessels get foul of one another, and steamers to avoid shipwreck get up steam, ready to take their station outside.

Vera Cruz welcomed us with one of these strong north winds, which obliged us to stay for three days in the roadstead, unable to leave our steamer; and when I did land, I was so glad, so happy at once more feeling the ground under my feet, that I failed to notice, as I had done before, the very uncomfortable pavement of the town, which consists of sharp pointed stones; but just as a sheep has a portion of his fleece torn from him by every bramble he passes by, so does every traveller leave some portion of his individuality in every country which he visits-and on seeing again the places he has known before, he thinks to himself that he will be welcomed by the same impressions, the same friendships, nay, the same adventures as before will be there. He believes he will find everything exactly as he left it, he looks forward to shaking hands with a particular friend, to revisiting a certain spot, to entering a certain house, whose kind inmates had always had a warm welcome for him. He arrives, but the scene is changed, the old well-remembered spot is laid waste, the house a heap of ruins, friends dead, and Time, alas! has done its fatal work.

After two-and-twenty years' absence, I eagerly looked forward to shaking hands with the friends I had left. The returning traveller looks back on two-and-twenty years as but a day; to him it seems but yesterday that he left the place; every one will, of course, know him again; every one will come forward and warmly welcome him back. Heaven help him! The quarter of a century, which he has hardly taken into account, has in reality weighed heavily on him, as upon all; even should he be fortunate enough to recognise a few acquaintances, they have completely forgotten him, and like Rip Van Winkle, he seems to awake from a hundred years' sleep-to find all changed, and everything about him strange and new. In my own case, the only friend I found was the oldest of all, whom I thought I was never likely to see again. But it was not until I had told him my name that he recognised me; for at first he saw nothing but a perfect stranger standing before him. I inquired after A-he was no more; and B?-dead; and C?-dead also. I stopped, I was afraid to go on. It was under the burden of impressions such as these that I found myself once more in Vera Cruz.

And yet Vera Cruz, situated at the extremity of the Mexican gulf, is not commonplace, but rather an Eastern city, and her origin is marked everywhere; in her cupolas, painted white, pink, and blue, her flat terraces, and ornaments mostly of a pyramidal form. But cities live longer than men, and I found Vera Cruz rejuvenated, younger and more animated than of yore.

A slight breath of French activity seems to have crossed the seas and to pervade everything. The houses are freshly painted, the steeples whitewashed, cupolas enamelled, and new blocks of houses and monuments meet the eye in all directions. The square, which was formerly squalid and intersected by watercourses, is now a charming place, paved with marble and planted with trees, in which squirrels and ouertitis gambol and play the whole day long. The centre is occupied by a fountain, and the sides by arcades, giving access to magnificent cafés, beautiful shops, the Cathedral and the Town Hall inlaid with gleaming tiles.

In the day-time the shade is deep and the air cool, whilst in the evening numerous loungers and fair women, their hair chequered with phosphorescent cucuyos, fill the green walks, and give it the appearance of a huge hot-house. Vera Cruz, to those who are used to its climate, is a very pleasant abode, and though in some respects not so desirable as many European cities, life here, on account of the great heat, is easier, fuller, more satisfying. Wines are not dearer than in Paris; fish is both plentiful and excellent; tropical fruit of every kind is to be found in the market, as well as all the feathered tribe, varying from the laughing-bird and the parrot to the beautiful red and green Aras of Tabasco. Add to this the constant incoming and outgoing of every nation in the universe, eliciting a daily interchange of news with the outer world, and in a sense annihilating the distance which divides you from the mother country. Then, too, there is the Gulf with its blue waters, tempting to the most delightful dives man ever had; the jetty, which, insignificant though it be, is none the less a favourite resort, where in the evening people go for a little fresh air, beneath a magnificent canopied sky; and where in the day they can watch on the horizon the white sail disappearing out of sight. Picture to yourself this marvellous sky, filled with innumerable noisy sea-birds and small black vultures dotting it at a dizzy height, whilst far below, hoary, venerable pelicans, quite at home in the harbour, from long habit seem to spend their lives in diving and rising solemnly, then come and perch on the Custom House flag, with a grotesque kind of dignity, as though conscious of having fully done what was expected of them.

But the great feature about Vera Cruz is the innumerable flights of black vultures, which fill the streets, and cover every roof and pinnacle. They are so tame as to be scarcely disturbed by the passers-by, and when servants throw out house refuse, there follows a general rush and a fearful fight, in which dogs take part, without, however, always getting the best of it. These dogs, like those of Constantinople, are the ?diles of both town and country, which without them would be intolerable.

Beyond Mexico Gate, a fine public walk, planted with large cocoa-trees, leads to a suburb which has within the last few years grown into a little town; it is the great rendezvous for sailors and coolies who come to dance and flirt with the damsels of the place, and the evening is generally wound up with a hot dispute with their less favoured companions.

The coast along the Atlantic is a vast sandy plain, diversified by marshes peopled with herons, wild ducks, iguanas, and serpents, which are almost impervious from thickets of aromatic shrubs and wild flowers, in the midst of which tower magnificent trees; but the sound of no voice ever breaks on this wilderness in which lurks the malaria, save the hoarse cry of a wild animal, the passing of an eagle-fisher, or the whirling of a vulture in quest of some easy prey.

The journey from Vera Cruz to Mexico is now performed by railway, which has replaced the once cumbrous diligence, and traffic has increased to such an extent that the English Railway Company is unable to convey inland goods which have come by sea.

We start on our journey with an escort, even now a necessary precaution, for five-and-twenty years have not modified the manners of the natives, and highway robbers are still a flourishing institution in Mexico.

Pressing westward, we go through the sandy, marshy zone, and leaving behind us Tejeria, Soledad, Paso Ancho, and Paso del Macho, we reach the famous Chiquihuite bridge, when a glorious region succeeds to the flat country and parched vegetation of the coast; we continue to ascend through grander and grander scenery and more luxurious vegetation, having on our left the river Atoyac with its precipitous course, between deep ravines, and presently we come in sight of the iron viaduct, which is considered one of the best works on the line.

Still pressing upwards we reach the temperate zone, where we find coffee, tobacco, and banana plantations, spreading their broad green leaves under the shade of great trees which shelter them against the fierce heat of the sun; while little houses, embowered in orange-groves and creepers, peep out coquettishly from leaf and foliage.

And now the grand outlines of the Sierra are about us, and at every bend of the road charming views unfold before our enraptured gaze; a dazzling light colours all things with the richest tints, and Orizaba rears its magnificent head straight before us. Orizaba is, with the Popocatepetl, the highest mountain in Mexico; its snowy peak is visible for many a mile at sea. At its foot may be seen the city of the same name, extending over a large area, with her numerous and once gorgeous churches, now falling into decay, amidst a vast plateau, circled by mighty mountains, once gleaming with volcanic fires and grand summits. Mills and factories, greatly on the increase, are worked by water-power, which is brought by aqueducts or mountain torrents.

After Orizaba, the road becomes very steep; we enter the gorges of Infiernillo (small hell), where, along roads coasting deep ravines and unfathomable precipices, spanned by stupendous bridges, we reach Maltrata, where the train stops to change engines, when we ascend the heights, or cumbres, leading to the plateau.

VIEW OF PUEBLA, TAKEN FROM ALTO.

And now the road opens out in long windings, rounding the steepest declivities; bridges and tunnels succeed each other with dazzling rapidity, and the huge engine puffs and hisses, sending out long, curling volumes of white smoke over the most glorious landscape; and our journey, which has lasted three hours, brings us to Esperanza, at an elevation of some 1,200 metres,1 and here we breakfast at an excellent buffet. After Esperanza, the country becomes a dreary, monotonous, dusty plain, contrasting painfully with the brilliant colouring of the warm zone; not a tree is to be seen, hardly any vegetation; some rare fields of stunted maize and wheat, a few meagre cactuses, with here and there a white hacienda, are the only indications that this forlorn region is not wholly uninhabited. Nevertheless, the monotony of this immense plain is relieved by the grand outline of mountains which bound the horizon, and the sand mounds, which are visible everywhere, give the landscape a peculiar and somewhat severe aspect.

The railway, strange to say, has deprived this region of its few inhabitants, and steam has done away with the arriero and the long lines of heavy carts, panting mules, and muleteers in picturesque costumes, and the tinkling bells of madinas (mules heading the trains) are no more.

Then, also, these dusty roads were enlivened by the presence of small cottages, whence the cheerful hand-clapping of tortilleros reminded the hungry traveller that here his honest hunger might be appeased, during which the muleteer would ogle or distribute somewhat questionable compliments among the belles of the district; all is gone, even to the meson, in whose vast courtyard weary mules were put up for the night. The cottage has left no trace behind, the walls of the meson are a mass of ruins, and the courtyard deserted.

And now we travel in a north-west direction; we pass Huamantla, round Malinche, and leave Puebla some twenty leagues on our left, and crossing Apizaco we reach the Llanos of Apam, famed for its pulque, or Mexican wine, which is made of the juice of aloes (Agave Americana), to be found everywhere; but Apam pulque is as superior to other pulque as Chambertin is superior to ordinary claret. Aloe plantations are everywhere to be seen, and at each station a huge train calls daily for the casks full of the liquor so dear to Mexicans. This intoxicating beverage is not tempting in appearance, for it is yellowish, thick and stringy, with a most repulsive smell, yet when a taste for it has been acquired even Europeans drink it with pleasure after a day's trip. Here I am reminded how much the railway has destroyed the picturesqueness of the road. If in former times the traveller went over the ground at a slower pace, he had leisure to linger over the plain, admire the mountain round which the railway now twines, to stop at Amozoc, a time-honoured haunt of brigands; and though he missed Tlascala, the faithful ally of Cortez, and the hereditary enemy of Mexico, he had the opportunity of visiting Puebla de los Angeles, which lies at the very foot of great Malintzi or Malinche, faced by the snowy peaks of Iztaccihuatl and Popocatepetl.

The city of Puebla de los Angeles was founded by the Spaniards soon after the conquest, on the site of an insignificant village a few miles east of Cholula. After Mexico, which it rivals by the beauty of its edifices, it is the most important city of New Spain. Like ancient Cholula, she is remarkable for the number and the magnificence of her sacred buildings, the multitude of her priests, and the pomp of her religious ceremonies, and her cathedral, in an architectural point of view, ranks as high as that of Mexico, whilst her treasures are perhaps even more considerable than those of her rival-her grand chandelier of massive silver having alone cost ￡14,000. The innumerable steeples of a hundred churches, and the gleaming cupolas, give a remarkable character to the panorama of this city, which has sustained many a siege, while her last defence under Ortega was simply heroic.

In the time of the diligence the road led to ancient Cholula, and the traveller had the opportunity of visiting her pyramid, on which stands the temple dedicated to Quetzacoatl, "God of the air," who was pleased to dwell among men, and, during his visit in Cholula, which extended over twenty years, he taught the Toltecs the arts of peace, a better form of government, and a more spiritualised religion, in which the only sacrifices were the fruits and flowers of the season. It was in honour of this benevolent deity that this stupendous mound was erected. The date of its erection is unknown, for it was found there when the Aztecs entered the plateau; but it has been variously ascribed to the Olmecs, the Toltecs, and even to a race of giants, who wished to save themselves from another deluge. Clavigero observes very naturally, that the builders were rather stupid in taking so much trouble to raise an artificial mound, when they had within reach the highest mountains in the world where to take refuge in any such emergency.2 It had the truncated, pyramidal form of the Mexican teocalli (temple), its four sides facing the cardinal points, and divided into the same number of terraces. The original outlines, however, have been effaced by the action of time, while the growth of shrubs and wild flowers, which cover its surface, gives it the appearance of one of those symmetrical elevations thrown up by Plutonic agency rather than the work of man. The height of this pyramid is 60 metres;3 its base, which is square, covers about forty-four acres, and the platform on its truncated summit embraces more than one. Cholula was of great antiquity, and was founded by the primitive race which occupied the land before the Aztecs. At the time of the conquest it was one of the most populous and flourishing cities of New Spain. "Nothing could be more grand than the view which met the eye from the truncated summit of the pyramid. Towards the north stretched the bold barrier of porphyry rock which nature has reared round the valley of Mexico, with the huge Popocatepetl and Iztaccihuatl standing like two sentinels to guard the entrance of this enchanted region. Far away to the south was seen the conical head of Orizaba soaring high into the clouds, and nearer, the barren, though beautifully shaped Sierra de Malinche, throwing its broad shadows over the plains of Tlascala. Three of these volcanoes, higher than the highest peak in Europe, and shrouded in snows which never melt under Pg 13

Pg 14

Pg 15 the fierce sun of the tropics, at the foot of the spectator the sacred city of Cholula, with its bright towers and pinnacles sparkling in the sun, reposing amidst gardens and verdant groves. Such was the magnificent prospect which met the eye of the conquerors, and may still, with slight change, meet that of the modern traveller, as he stands on the broad plateau of the pyramid and his eye wanders over the fairest portion of the beautiful plateau of Puebla."4

PANORAMA OF PUEBLA.

PANORAMA OF PUEBLA.

Cholula was the holy city of Anahuac, the Mecca, Jerusalem, and Rome of the Indians; in it the kindred races had temples of their own, and ministers for the service of the deity to whom they were consecrated. The sanctity of the place brought pilgrims from the furthest corners of Anahuac, who came to offer up their devotions at the shrine of Quetzacoatl and other divinities. Here Quetzacoatl had dwelt, and on his departure for the countries of the East, he had bidden his followers to keep fast his teaching, promising that he and his descendants would return, to reign again over them. This remarkable legend, which was popular with all the Indian tribes, was one of the most powerful auxiliaries of the Spanish conquerors, in whom the simple Indians thought they recognised the lofty stature, noble mien, clear complexion, and blue eyes, of the deity they had so long expected.

But talking of Cholula has made us forget that the train is going to start: the guards, hurrying in every direction to look for us, summon us into our carriages, the signal is given, and we speed away.

And now we notice on the platform of every station, detachments of soldiers, with large felt hats, trimmed with silver ribbons and tassels, whilst their horses, ready saddled, are stationed close by. In spite of their baggy trousers and slouching hats, these men have a military bearing, which shows them to be a picked body of troops, and in fact they are the "rural guard," lately formed, but already of the greatest service; thanks to their vigilant intelligence, the country is almost safe. This guard is recruited among the class described as "having no occupation and no permanent abode," and the Government gave proof of its sagacity when it availed itself of this turbulent element, which after having been the scourge of the country, now keeps it quiet. It is a case of setting a thief to catch a thief; for the "rural," acquainted for twenty miles round with all the "old customers," whose accomplice he used to be, knows better than any one how to track an escaped convict, or discover a secret haunt; and thanks to telegraphs and railroads, pronunciamentos have gone out of fashion, nipped in the bud before they are given time to assume any large proportions.

From Apam, where we got out to look at the view, we proceed to Palma; then Otumba, where Cortez, a few days after his evacuation of Mexico, obtained a great victory over the Aztecs, in which their chief was slain; and leaving Teotihuacan with its pyramids on the left, we reach Mexico and St. Cosme Station.

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CHURCH OF SAN DOMINGO. (See p. 30.)

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Her New Appearance-Moral Transformation-Public Walks and Squares-Suburbs-Railway-Monuments-Cathedral-S. Domingo-S. Francisco-La Merced-Hats à la S. Basilio-Suppression of Religious Orders.

Mexico has undergone a still greater change than Vera Cruz. The large square, which used to be ill-paved and empty, has become a fine garden, planted with eucalyptus trees, which have grown wonderfully during the last twelve years, some measuring seven feet in girth and over 100 feet in height. Beneath the shade of these beautiful trees stretch beautiful gardens and green turf, whilst the centre is occupied by the Zocalo, a pavilion, in which every evening very fair concerts are given, attended by the Mexican society.

Spacious houses in modern style have been constructed at different points of the city; new districts have arisen on the site once occupied by convents; pretty squares are distributed about, and the Paseo Nuevo, which was to extend as far as Chapultepec, is one which the proudest cities in the world might envy. But will it ever be completed? At present, it only reaches the imposing monument erected in honour of Christopher Columbus, which every Frenchman should admire as coming from Paris and the work of a Frenchman. The immediate area round Mexico has been completely transformed by lines of railroad and tramways; in places once occupied by fetid water or marshy ground, pretty villas and flower gardens are now to be seen, whilst on the other side of the Paseo, to the right and left of S. Cosme, the smaller suburbs are extending so fast that they will soon join the main city. Should Americans come-and a goodly number are here already-all this land, now almost valueless, would in a few years double and treble in price.

But what is still more remarkable is the moral transformation: a new life seems to animate Mexico: education, trade, industry, and public works, have received great development; security has increased, a public conscience has been awakened, ideas have become more liberal, change of power is now effected without disturbance, whilst formerly it was preceded, accompanied and followed by the ever-recurring pronunciamentos; a feeling of good-fellowship begins to penetrate all classes, and Government House is in a true sense the House of the people, being filled from early morning by friends, employés, or petitioners. Every one is free to come and go, without let or hindrance, all are received by the Governor without having to ask an audience, and every one is welcomed with the greatest affability, as I can from personal experience amply testify. To give an idea how far the spirit of patriotism was roused by the war of intervention, I will quote the words of a deputy, who, on my preliminary bill being submitted to Congress, which had been agreed to between the Government and myself respecting my excavations and their export, rushed into the tribune to speak against its adoption. "Gentlemen," he cried, "I feel savage, beside myself, almost idiotic, when the interests of our country are at stake." The speaker was right in his description of himself, for the removal of a few fragments from the soil of the Republic was not deserving of such an outburst.

But it is the privilege of the young ever to exaggerate, and Mexico is as yet in her youth. The public press is just started, and there are but two independent papers, the admirably conducted Republican Moniteur and the Nineteenth Century, which give any profits. All the others are paid by the Government, are short-lived, and disappear one after another, to reappear under new names and take up with a different party. And yet there is no lack of talent, the drawback is in the difficulty of communications. The heavy postal charges (a letter from one village to another costs one shilling), the ignorance and indifference of the masses about political events, are the main causes which prevent any newspaper from succeeding. The only interest evinced in politics is at the time of the elections, and even in these, Mexicans take very little interest, knowing beforehand that it will not much matter to them, and that their burden will hardly be made lighter. It may be safely predicted that the Indians will not be roused from their apathy until they are better educated, and until they discover that they have a direct interest in mixing in politics-for which they are eminently qualified-and if their vast majority be considered, they would undoubtedly contribute a large contingent, whilst their industry, their intelligent quickness to seize everything, coupled with a natural talent of adaptation, would soon raise them to the foremost ranks in the army, politics, the bar and science, as may even now be seen in the few who have had the privilege of education; nor would this be difficult, for they now stand on a perfect footing of equality with the Mexicans, for unlike most conquerors, jealous to preserve their nationality, the modern Mexicans repudiate their Spanish descent and are proud to call themselves Indians. But what is to be the outcome of it all? Will the Indian, forgetting his humble and thrifty aspirations, thirst, like the Mexican, after Government employment, which, whilst it keeps him idle, unfits him for commercial and industrious pursuits? He has lived hitherto under laws harsh and severe for him alone; is there no fear that once free, he will plunge into the vices of freed men, rather than put on the virtues of civilised people? If we are to borrow our experience from the past, this would be the case, since when, shortly after the conquest, he lived under milder laws, the effect was to sink him into such an appalling condition of moral depravity as to move the good Franciscan monk Sahagun to say of him: "We ought not perhaps to be surprised at finding among them the usual shortcomings which belong to their country, since the Spaniards who live here, and especially the American born, are in no way better than the Indians. Even the natives of Spain, after a few years in this country, are quite altered, and I have always ascribed this change to a difference of climate and latitude. It is humiliating to our feelings as Christians," exclaims Sahagun, "to reflect that the Indians of olden time, wise in their generation, knew how to remedy evils peculiar to the soil, by means of practices which were their safeguard, whereas we succumb to our evil propensities; the result of which is that we see a new generation, Indian as well as Spanish, rising around us, which it is difficult to manage or to save. Parents have not that authority they ought to have over their offspring to guard them against their natural proclivities. The ancient dwellers of this soil were far better inspired when they abandoned the education of their children to public authority, which replaced paternal rights. Unfortunately this method was tainted by idolatrous and superstitious practices; but were these to be eliminated and the ancient method introduced afresh among the Indo-Spanish people, a great public good would undoubtedly follow, which would relieve the Government of many difficulties now pressing upon it. As it is we hardly know how to deal with those reared in our schools, who, finding themselves no longer checked by the fear and discipline of former, nor the severity of pagan times, do not care to learn and are indifferent to admonition; very different in this respect from their Aztec forefathers. At first, following their ancient practice, which placed the youth of both sexes in buildings within the enclosure of their temples, in which they were drilled in monastic discipline, and taught to reverence their gods and obey the laws of their country, we tried to bring them up in our establishments, and to this end we collected them in buildings adjoining our houses, in which they were accustomed to rise in the middle of the night to sing the matins of Our Lady, and recite the 'Hours' at early dawn; they were also required to beat themselves with stripes and to spend some time of the day in mental exercises, but as they were not compelled as in pagan times to do any manual labour, as their natural aspirations seemed to demand, and as moreover they were better fed and more mildly treated than their student ancestors, they soon learnt and fell into evil ways. We also directed our attention to the women to see whether it were possible to place them in convents, as in heathen times, and with this end in view we made them Christian nuns, and imposed on them perpetual vows; convents and retreats were erected, in which they were taught their religious duties and the art of reading and writing. Such as had shown themselves proficient in these pursuits and were possessed besides of becoming dignity and decorum, were chosen to preside over these establishments as guides and teachers of Christianity and purity of life5. At first we fondly hoped, as in the men's case, that they would become worthy and spotless nuns, but we were mistaken, experience having shown that, for the present at least, they were incapable of so much perfection, and convents and conventicles had to be abolished, and we have to confess that the time has not yet come for repeating the experiment."

The passage just quoted is suggestive of many things.

A deplorable change for the worse is already observable in the character of the Indians of Tabasco and Chiapas since the Suffrage Bill, which by making them partly independent of the whites, has also made them idle, insolent, treacherous, and depraved. A sad look-out for times to come. But even granting that all happens for the best, is there much probability that the Indian will have time to develop his natural resources before the Anglo-Saxon invasion shall have confined him for ever to the lower ranks in the social scale?

However that may be, Mexico, although bent on progress, seems only to receive her notions second-hand. Eager for action, every new idea or advance which has received a trial with other nations, is sure to be promptly adopted, without any inquiry whether it is applicable, suitable, or useful, among a people wholly unprepared to receive them; and this total impossibility of legislating for half savages and illiterate people made a deputy say one day to me: "We have a constitution fit for angels, whereas we ought to have one fit for asses."

What happens? The Mexicans at present enjoy perfect liberty, which they use to stop the action of the Government, and as each department is entirely independent, the lowest clerk is able to stop the whole machinery. Most Mexicans have, or wish to have, Government employment, leaving to foreigners the development of their national wealth; banking, trade, and the working of their rich mines are, with few exceptions, in the hands of Spaniards, French, English, and Americans. The latter are swarming in; and, save Vera Cruz, all the railways are American.

Very few Mexicans have been found willing to risk their capital in these important enterprises, being satisfied with receiving a premium, or joining the companies as employés. What will happen? It would be a strange and novel phenomenon to see a superior (?) race disappearing before an inferior one. Be that as it may, it is certain that on the day when the Anglo-Americans shall be able to dispense with the services of the Mexican, they will not scruple to thrust him aside, careful however to keep the Indians of the Highlands, now a docile, frugal, hard-working people, whom they will use for mining and agricultural purposes, as well as for the construction of railways. But this is not yet. The absorption will come, however-gradually, silent, peaceful-a slow, easy death, but a sure death nevertheless.

Yet it would be a matter for regret that this attractive people, open to every new idea of progress, eager to distinguish themselves, as shown a hundred times in the defence of their liberties, should be swallowed up by the Saxon element. The "Timeo Danaos dona ferentes" is surely applicable here, and Mexico should beware of her powerful neighbour-Caveant Consules.

Mexico has a great wealth of monuments, palatial houses, and churches, the finest of which is the Cathedral, occupying the northern side of the Place d'Armes, with the Palace to the east, the Houses of Parliament to the south, and the Portal de las Damas on the western side. It was erected on the site of the sumptuous temple dedicated to Huitzilopochtli, the war god and the patron deity of the Aztecs, whose altars reeked with the blood of human hecatombs in every city of the empire. The first stone for this church was laid in the reign of Philip II., and the canonicate of Archbishop Pedro Moya de Contreras. The foundations, which extended as far as the north side of the old temple, embracing the whole space now taken up by the courts, were carried on under the energetic supervision of Alonzo Perez de Casta?eda. The work required for these foundations, owing to the unsteady, marshy nature of the soil, was so enormous that in 1615 the walls only rose to some twenty feet above the ground. Philip III., on being informed of the difficulties which retarded the work begun by his father, sent a plan drawn by his own architect, which was to simplify the original one, and accelerate the completion of the church.

The principal sacristy was finished in 1623; the vaults in the middle nave were completed between 1623 and 1665. In 1667, the interior of the Cathedral being quite finished, the inauguration took place. The choir, however, was only completed in 1730, when the rich and marvellous balustrade, which divides the choir from the sanctuary, executed by Macao, was put up. This balustrade, composed of bronze and silver, which has all the appearance of burnished gold, is most striking in its general effect.

The expenses of this church (completed in 1791) amounted to 2,446,000 piastres, or ￡489,200. Seen from the square, the edifice has the imposing appearance of churches of the latter portion of the sixteenth century. The fa?ade, though simple, is very imposing, and contrasts favourably with the other sacred edifices in the city; three doors intervene between Doric columns and open into the middle and lateral naves. Over the main door two stories superimposed and ornamented with Doric and Corinthian pilasters, support a most elegant steeple, crowned by three statues, representing the theological virtues. On each side, towers, severe in design, and topped by cupolas, rise to the height of 78 metres.6 The interior is one mass of gold. The choir, which is immense, occupies the principal nave, and, by means of a costly composite gallery, is made to join the main altar, designed after St. Peter's in Rome. The two lateral naves, destined for the congregation, have no choir or seats of any kind, and Mexican ladies, who are very regular in their attendance at church, are satisfied with kneeling or sitting on the damp stones of the pavement, whether from zeal or because it would not be "good form" not to do so, remains doubtful, whereas it is quite certain that their delicate constitution demands a less dangerous practice. The few men who are ever seen in the interior of a church generally stand; most, however, remain outside talking to one another, and waiting for the ladies, who on coming out reward them for their patience by a bewitching look or a graceful inclination of the head.

Among the works of art possessed by the Cathedral, may be mentioned a small picture by Murillo, known as the "Virgin of Belen," not a good specimen of the great master. The priests attached to the church look upon it, however, as their most precious jewel; to this may be added the "Assumption of the Virgin," of massive gold, weighing 1,116 ounces; a silver lamp hanging before the sanctuary, which cost ￡16,000; the tabernacle of massive silver valued at ￡32,000, besides diamonds, rubies, emeralds, amethysts, pearls, and sapphires in shoals, and a vast quantity of gold and silver vases, representing fabulous sums of money.

On the wall of the left tower to the west, may be seen the famous Aztec calendar, found on the 17th December, 1700, whilst the new esplanade of Impedradillo was being constructed. By order of the Viceroy it was carefully encased and preserved in the steeple wall, and has proved to be one of the most precious monuments of Indian antiquity. Antonio de Gama, in a masterly treatise, explained the objects to which it was devoted, and poured a flood of light on the astronomical science of the Aborigines and their mythology. His work has been criticised, however, by Valentine of New York, and both are impugned by Chavero of Mexico, whilst others pass a severe judgment on all three. So true is it, that arch?ological, like other questions, are ever open to hot dispute.

The Sagrario is a huge chapel close to the Cathedral, used for marriages, christenings, and burial services. The host is exposed at all times on the altar for the veneration of the faithful. The Sagrario deserves a passing note, for though vicious in taste, it has such a wealth of ornamentation and sculpture, as to make one forget the defects of its style considered as a whole. It is from the Sagrario that the last sacrament used to be carried to comfort the rich and powerful, in a gilt carriage, or beneath a gorgeous da?s, amidst a cortège of priests, who preceded and followed it, its presence being announced by the ringing of a silver bell. At its approach the traffic and movement of the town was suspended; every one, no matter the state of the weather, humbly knelt down in dust or mud; all were expected to join the procession and accompany the host to the house of the dying; the viceroy himself was not exempted from this formality, and chroniclers tell us that many were the times when he was thus compelled to head the marching column.

EL SAGRARIO.

Pg 28

Pg 29

But that was in the good old time, which I am old enough to have seen, when priests and monks, their heads covered with huge hats, à la Don Basilio, filled the streets with their portly, dignified figures, their faces ever open to a smile. That time has gone by; monks and priests, shorn of their dress and privileges, have disappeared and become private citizens. The Church on that occasion was not proceeded against by slow degrees; the Government, feeling at home in a country peculiarly religious and Catholic, decreed on the same day the suppression of all religious communities, the confiscation of their goods, and the disestablishment of the Church, and though a large majority mildly protested, nobody cared; not so the monks and priests, who whirled anathemas and fulminated the excommunicatio maxima against whomsoever should lend a hand to the demolition of the convents-nay, even against those who would be found bold enough to pass through the streets thus opened on ecclesiastical property. The Leperos, however, engaged in these demolitions, had recourse to an ingenious device to nullify the spiritual thunderbolts of their ancient patrons. They bedizened themselves with amulets, scapularies, and chaplets as a protection against the wiles of the devil, and thus attired they proceeded gaily to the destruction of cell and chapel, whilst weeping due?as, indignant at being witnesses of such sacrilege, poured out their unavailing supplications.

The excitement lasted but a week, and the Leperos thought so little of it that they did not refrain from bearing away to their housewives the wainscoting of the religious houses, and the newly made streets were used like any others.

But it will be asked, what of the monks? Most have become citizens and taken wives, and are now heads of families; some have gone into exile; whilst others are business men. I have even met a few, who, having turned Protestants, were employed as guides by the Boston and New York Biblical Missions. As for the clergy, contrary to the received opinion that on being deprived of their emoluments and tithes they would be richer than before, they have become as poor as their vows require, as humble as they profess, reading their services as heretofore to crowded congregations, and every one is or seems to be satisfied.

But to return to our edifices. The Church and Convent of S. Domingo (Dominick) stands in Custom House Square, blocked up at all times by carriages, carts, mules, and a motley crowd. At this point, when pronunciamentos were the rule, rebels used to take their stand, and sheltered behind the high steeples of the church, shot at their fellow-citizens lodged on the azoteas (flat roofs) of the neighbouring houses. They did their work so often and so well that the desolation of these cloisters is complete. The pictures which once were their chief ornament are mostly in holes, and the walls blackened with shot and powder. S. Domingo has the hardly enviable privilege of having been the seat of the Inquisition. Here, in 1646, the terrible tribunal celebrated its first auto-da-fè, when forty-eight persons were burnt at the stake. These human sacrifices, which were only abolished at the beginning of this century, were not better than the revolting practices of the Aztecs, save that Catholic priests were content to burn their victims without eating them, but to make up for this they branded them with eternal infamy.

The Convent of S. Francisco, which at one time extended over fifteen acres of ground, is situated between the street bearing the same name and S. Juan de Latran y Zuletta Street. It is intersected by beautiful cloisters, courts, and gardens, and was formerly the most important as well as the richest convent in Mexico: having two churches, the interiors of which were adorned with gigantic altars of finely-carved gilt wood; three exquisite chapels, and elegant cloisters covered with pictures, thus forming one of the most remarkable monuments in Mexico. But alas! all that wealth is gone, the ruthless hand of democracy has pulled down cell and chapel; streets run in places once occupied by its altars; its flower-beds are turned into a nursery-garden, and its silent cells are tenanted by poor families, whose women and children fill the air with their shrill and discordant voices. All that remains is the fa?ade, with its magnificent gate-a curious mixture of Renaissance pilasters, covered with figures in high relief, surmounted with composite capitals, divided by niches adorned with statues, besides a marvellous wealth of ornamentation, not in the best taste, but highly finished. Their chief interest, however, lies in their being the work of the Indians, rather than the production of a Spanish chisel. Indians, according to Mendieta, were no contemptible artists; "with tools made of tin and copper, they could cut not only metals, but the hardest substances. They carved their vessels of gold and silver, with their metallic chisels, in a very delicate manner. They imitated the figures of animals, and could mix the metals in such a manner, that the feathers of a bird, or the scales of a fish, should be alternately of gold and silver."

They worked the various stones and alabasters with guijarros (a tool made of silex and flint), in the construction of their public buildings, entrances and angles of which were frequently ornamented with images, sometimes of their fantastic and hideous deities. Sculptured images were so numerous, that the foundations of the Cathedral in the Plaza Mayor are said to be entirely composed of them.7 They also painted from nature, birds, fish, and landscape, and after their conversion to Christianity, says Mendieta, they reproduced admirably our images and reredos from Flanders and Italy.

CLOISTER OF THE CONVENT OF LA MERCED.

The religion of the Aztecs imposed upon their followers certain forms, in their delineation of the human figure, or the personification of the Deity, which they were not permitted to discard; this explains why we find so many rude images side by side with the most exquisite work of ornamentation.

But to return. No one would stop to look at the Convent de la Merced were it not for its cloisters, the finest in Mexico; they are composed of white, slender columns, in Moorish style, with indented arches, forming galleries which surround a paved court, the centre of which is occupied by an insignificant fountain.

The Convent stands in the middle of a densely populated suburb, forming a striking contrast to the tumult and hubbub outside. The feeling of profound desolation which is felt at gazing on these walls is beyond description, for the silence is only broken in the rare intervals when an aguador comes to fill his cantaros and chochocoles (earthen pots and jars) at the fountain. The white picturesque tunic of the monks which relieved the solitude of these endless galleries has for ever disappeared, and now its vast passages only give access to empty cells.

The walls of the galleries are covered with innumerable pictures, the figures in which are of life-size, representing martyrs of the order of S. Domingo and its most celebrated saints. They are not pleasant to look at, presenting to the eye nothing but distortions, funeral piles and dislocations; all the tortures, in fact, which the perverted ingenuity of man has devised to harass his fellow-creatures. Among them, some are lifting to heaven their gory heads, whose blood is streaming down to their feet, whilst others are stretching out their freshly-stunted arms and calcined limbs. At no time can the priests of Huitzilopochtli have sanctioned more harrowing suffering, or consented, in their religious frenzy, to more revolting practices.

The Convent de la Merced used to possess a good library, and many precious manuscripts of Indian antiquity; but the superstitious ignorance of the monks allowed it to fall into decay, and documents of highest interest to the historian and arch?ologist were used as waste-paper or consigned to the flames.

The choir of this church had one hundred seats of carved oak, and was considered one of the finest in the world. The Government is converting the church into a library, which, when completed, is expected to be one of the finest monuments of the city.

Among buildings of public usefulness, the School of Mines, El Salto del Agua, Chapultepec Military College, the Art Academy, and the Museum may be mentioned.

MEXICAN MONKS.

* * *

EL SALTO DEL AGUA (FOUNTAIN).

* * *

El Salto del Agua-Netzahualcoyotl-Noche triste-Historical Jottings-Chapultepec-Indians-Chinampas-Legends-Anecdote-Mexican Museum-Tizoc's Stone, or Gladiator's Stone-Yoke and Sacrificial Stone-Holy War-Religious Cannibalism-American Copper.

El Salto del Agua is the only monumental fountain in Mexico; it stands in the centre of a low suburb removed from the chief thoroughfares, and terminates the aqueduct which brings from Chapultepec ("grasshopper's hill") an abundant supply of water to Mexico. El Salto del Agua is an oblong building, with a very mediocre fa?ade; a wide spread-eagle in the centre supports the escutcheon bearing the arms of the city. On each side twisted columns with Corinthian capitals bear two symbolical figures, representing Europe and America, besides eight half-broken vases.

According to historians of the conquest, El Salto del Agua, and the Aqueduct which it terminates, replaced the ancient aqueduct of Montezuma, constructed by Netzahualcoyotl, King of Tezcuco, between the years 1427 and 1440. At that time it was brought through an earthen pipe to the city, along a dyke constructed for the purpose, and that there might be no failure in so essential an article, a double course of pipes in stone and mortar was laid. In this way a column of water the size of a man's body was conducted into the heart of the capital, where it fed fountains and reservoirs of the principal mansions.8

Since the name of Netzahualcoyotl has been mentioned, it may not be out of place to give a brief account of a prince whose accomplishments, character, and adventurous life, would make him a fit hero for romance rather than the subject of sober history. He was descended from the Toltecs, of whom we shall speak later. He ruled over the Acolhuans or Tezcucans, as they were generally called, a nation of the same family as the Aztecs, whom it preceded on the plateau, and whom it rivalled in power and surpassed in intellectual activity. He was himself at once king, poet, philosopher, and lawgiver, and was a munificent patron of letters, and Tezcuco was, in his time, the meeting-place of all that was intelligent in Anahuac, as was Athens in the days of Pericles, Florence and Rome under the Medicis. Netzahualcoyotl held a conspicuous place among the bards of Anahuac, for the tender pathos of his verse, the elegance and rich colouring of his style, and the tinge of melancholy which pervades most of his writings. His large and enlightened mind could not accept the superstitions of his countrymen, still less the sanguinary rites of the Aztecs; his humane temper shrank from their cruel rites, and he endeavoured to recall his people to the more pure and simple worship of their forefathers. But he shared the fate of men far in advance of their time, and had to yield before their ignorance and fanaticism, contenting himself with publicly avowing his faith and nobler conception of the deity. He built a temple in the usual pyramidal form, to the "Unknown God, the Cause of Causes."

Though Netzahualcoyotl was of a benevolent disposition, he was strict in the administration of the laws, even against his own children; indeed, he put to death his two sons for having appropriated other people's booty. Many anecdotes are told of the benevolent interest he took in his subjects, amongst whom he delighted to wander in disguise, and, like Haroun-al-Raschid, entered freely in conversation with them, thus ascertaining their individual wants. His last days were spent in the pursuit of astronomical studies and the contemplation of the future life. He died full of days after a reign of nearly fifty years, during which he had freed his country from a foreign tyrant, breathed new life into the nation, renewed its ancient institutions, and seen it advancing towards a higher standard of civilisation; and he saw his end approach with the same serenity that he had shown alike in misfortune and in prosperity. Such is the very imperfect account of a prince who was the glory of his nation; whose muse, by turns, invited men to enjoy the passing hour, or bade them beware of the vanity of all earthly pleasures, teaching them to look beyond the grave for things that will endure.

But before we go on to Chapultepec, we must call at Tacuba, and visit the famous Ahuahuete, a kind of cypress, under whose shelter Cortez, on the night of July 1, 1520, came to rest his weary limbs and mourn over the cause which had so greatly imperilled his safety and that of his troops, as to make imperative the evacuation of Mexico, in which many of his most trusty veterans were sacrificed. The night was called on this account Noche triste, "Melancholy night."

TREE OF THE NOCHE TRISTE, AT POPOTLAN.

But to explain. We will give a short sketch of the causes which brought about this sad event, quoting largely from Father Duran, Ramirez, and Sahagun:

"It was in the month of May, the Mexican toxcatl, when it was common for the Aztecs to celebrate their great annual festival in honour of their war-god Huitzilopochtli, which was commemorated by sacrifice, religious songs and dances, in which all the nobility engaged, displaying their magnificent gala costumes, with their brilliant mantles of feather-work, sprinkled with precious stones, and their necks, arms, and legs ornamented with collars and bracelets of gold. Alvarado, whom Cortez had left as lieutenant of his forces, during his expedition against his formidable enemy, Narvaez, was now petitioned by the Indian caciques to be allowed to perform their rites. Alvarado acquiesced on condition that on this occasion there should be no human sacrifice, and that they should come without weapons; he and his soldiers, meanwhile, attended as spectators, some of them taking station at the gates, as if by chance. They were all fully armed, but as this was usual, it excited no suspicion; but as soon as the festival, which was held in the court of the great temple, had fairly begun, and the Mexicans were engrossed by the exciting movement of the dance, and their religious chants, Alvarado and his followers, at a concerted signal, rushed with drawn swords on their defenceless victims. Unprotected by armour or weapon of any kind, they were hewn down without resistance by their pitiless and bloodthirsty assailants. Some fled to the gates, but were thrust back by the pikes of the soldiers; some were able to scale the walls; others, penetrating the sanctuary of the temple, fell on the pavement and simulated death. The pavement ran with streams of blood, 'like water in a heavy shower,' and the ground was strewn with the mutilated limbs of the dead. The Spaniards, not content with slaughtering their victims, rifled them of their precious ornaments. On this sad day were sacrificed more than six hundred men, the flower of the Mexican nobility; not a family of note but had to mourn the loss of a near relation. The tidings of this horrible butchery filled the nation with stupefaction and dismay; they could hardly believe their senses. Every feeling of long-smothered hostility and rancour now burst forth in a cry for vengeance. The respect for the person of their sovereign made them desist from further attempts to storm the fortress. But they threw up works around the Palace to prevent the Spaniards from getting out. They suspended the market, to preclude the possibility of their enemy obtaining supplies. This accomplished, they quietly sat down, waiting for the time when famine would deliver the hated foreigner into their hands. The situation of the Spaniards seemed desperate, when they were relieved from their gloomy apprehensions by the return of Cortez, who with his comrades had succeeded in utterly crushing Narvaez. It was not too soon: a few days more and the garrison must have surrendered from lack of provisions, and still more from want of water. Alvarado was subjected to a cross-examination by Cortez, who contented himself with administering some words of reproof, and ordering him to his post; for the city again rose to arms. In this terrible strait, Cortez sent to the Aztec Emperor to request him to mediate with his subjects. Meanwhile the Spaniards endeavoured to effect a retreat out of a city thoroughly roused against them. This they accomplished under cover of a dark, drizzling night, after a fearful carnage and much bloodshed, lasting over several days; when the Spanish troops, accompanied by their Tlascalan allies, abandoned a city which had been so lately the scene of their triumphs, and each soldier, loaded with as much gold and jewels as he could carry, made for the gates. All was hushed in silence; no danger seeming to arrest their march, they were beginning to hope that a few hours would see them beyond the missiles of the enemy. But, as they drew near the bridges of Tlascopan Street, they were assailed by thousands of Mexicans, and amidst a fearful tumult and destructive confusion, followed by shouts of impotent rage from the combatants and moans from the severely wounded, in which the best among the Spaniards lay buried in the murky waters of the canals, or fallen under the axes of the Mexicans, the Spanish leaders, followed by the disordered remnant of their troops, were allowed to defile to an adjacent village called Popotla, where Cortez, on beholding their thinned ranks and deplorable condition, gave vent to the anguish of his soul.

Cortez' fame has been much overrated; he was fortunate rather than great, for he was powerfully assisted at the very outset by the friendly attitude of the Indians, who welcomed in him the Deliverer long foretold in their legends, who was to rescue them from the thraldom and heavy burdens imposed upon them by the Aztec monarchs, to enable them to carry on their warlike enterprises and policy of annexation. He was helped, moreover, by two intelligent interpreters, Aguilar and Marina, in his intercourse with the natives; Marina proving subsequently a devoted friend, and a faithful and skilful negotiator with the Indians. It is equally certain that, from purely selfish motives of personal convenience and policy, as also to gratify the cruel rapacity of his followers, he not only allowed, but even ordered acts of bloodshed and treachery which must for ever stain his character. His courage cannot be doubted; yet his conduct in the expedition to Honduras, his pusillanimity on his return, argue a poor politician; whilst the revolting massacres at Cholula and Mexico sink into shade when compared with the murder of Guatemozin. Las Casas, who knew him well, calls him "that fellow;" which term of reproach is more opprobrious than a worse epithet.

But these things have detained us too long already; let us now proceed to Chapultepec, one of the most delightful spots in the Mexican valley. Two roads, the Paseo Nuevo and the tramway, lead to it; we will take the latter as shorter and cheaper, which, starting from the Place d'Armes, goes through Belen gate, and sets us down at the very entrance of the Castle. Chapultepec, "grasshopper hill," is a volcanic hill some 1,625 feet long, and 100 feet high, covered with luxurious vegetation, crowned with groves of cypresses, ahuahuetes, some of which are seventy-five feet in diameter, and seem to defy the decay of ages.9

The view from the windows of the Palace, which stands on the top of the hill, embracing the valley of Mexico, is one of the finest in the world. In the highly rarefied atmosphere of these upper regions, even distant objects have a brilliancy of colouring and a distinctness of outline which enables one to take in the details of this marvellous panorama, studded with towns and hamlets, the white walls of which, together with the tops of porphyry rocks, glimmer in the rays of the sun. Stretching far away at their feet are seen noble forests of oak, sycamore, and cedar, whilst beyond, cultivated fields, beautiful gardens, lakes, and lagoons, girdle the valley around. Looking towards Mexico, the spectator has behind him the low chain de las Cruces; on his right, to the south, Pedregal and the Ajuscean hills; before him, to the east, the grand snowy tops of Popocatepetl, "the hill of smoke," and Iztaccihuatl, "White Woman," from its bright robe of snow; on his left to the north, Cerro Gordo, and nearer, the Sierra Guadalupe, where stands the most celebrated sanctuary of Mexico, dedicated to the Virgin.

This chapel rises on the site once occupied by the famous temple of Toci-the mother of a god-whose altars were thronged all times by multitudes of devotees. To induce the Indians to welcome the Virgin Mary as their tutelar divinity, the priests took care to represent her with a dark complexion and the courtly robes worn by noble Mexican maidens in their time of prosperity. The story of the Aztec Virgin is so characteristic of the sanguinary instincts of the people who raised her to the rank of a deity, that we will tell it.

The Mexicans, after a series of wanderings and adventures, during which they endured all the hardships of a migratory life, succeeded at length in establishing themselves on the muddy islets of the principal lake, in the year 1325. Here they raised a temple to their war-god, Huitzilopochtli, on whose altars human sacrifices were offered. Prisoners were generally reserved for this purpose, but in times of public calamity the god required the best of the land. It is told how on one occasion, the oracle of Huitzilopochtli demanded that a Royal Princess should be sacrificed to him; and how the Aztec monarch sent to one of his vassals, the King of Colhuacan, to petition for one of his daughters to become the mother of the tutelar god-and as such share with him divine honours. The King of Colhuacan, flattered by the honour reserved for his daughter, unable besides to refuse, confided the young Princess to the care of the Aztec envoys, who escorted her with great pomp to the city where she was sacrificed, her skin being taken off after death to clothe the young priest who was to represent the deity in this solemnity. The cruelty was carried so far as to invite the father to be present at the bitter mockery of his child's deification; he came, penetrated the sanctuary, but at first the gloom of the temple did not let him see anything, until he was given a copal-gum torch, the flame of which bursting up suddenly revealed the horrible picture of the young priest standing close to the idol and receiving the homage of the multitude. The skin fitted so tightly that the monarch recognised his daughter's mask, and almost mad with grief he fled the temple to mourn for his murdered child.10

CHAPULTEPEC.

The Mexican valley was occupied successively by various tribes, which advancing from the north and north-west, entered the country towards the end of the seventh century. The first and most remarkable of these, both from the mildness of their character and the degree of their civilisation, were the Toltecs, who occupied Chapultepec as early as the eighth century, and established their capital at Tula, north of the Mexican valley, whose name Toltec was synonymous with architect. After a time, a rude tribe, the Chichemecs, entered the territory and were soon followed by other races, amongst which were the Aztecs or Mexicans, and the Acolhuans or Tezcucans. Some of these obtained leave from Xolotl, King of the Chichemecs, to settle on Chapultepec, which in the course of time became a royal residence, and a royal burial-place, whilst its rocks were made to transmit to posterity the features of the Mexican monarchs, Azayacoatl and the two Montezumas, together with the sons of the last Aztec emperor; two statues of this monarch and his father were to be seen as late as the last century, when they were destroyed by order of the Government.

CHARCOAL AND BATTEAS VENDORS.

Father Duran tells how Montezuma I. had himself and his first minister sculptured. Feeling that his end was drawing near, he summoned the doughty warrior Tlacael, who for three reigns had shown his valour on the field of battle and his wisdom in council: "Brother Tlacael," said the monarch, "it would be well that our names and persons should be graven on the rock of Chapultepec, and thus pass to posterity." "Your wish, most noble king, shall instantly be obeyed." And calling together the most renowned sculptors, Tlacael imparted to them the royal command. In a few days two bas-reliefs were executed, so striking in resemblance, and so exquisite in workmanship, as to surprise Montezuma himself.

The Castle, which was built by the Viceroy Galvaez at the close of the seventeenth century, was transformed into a Military School by the Government in 1841; Maximilian during his short reign altered it, and made it his favourite residence. The Palace is once more occupied by the Military College, whose pupils have shown themselves worthy of it, by their heroic defence at the time of the American war. An observatory has been lately built, at the expense of the Government.

But it is time to return to Mexico, where we shall find the Indian pretty much what he was three or four hundred years ago. This arises from his having been subjected, from the earliest times, to Aztec rule and the severe discipline of its priests and afterwards to the still more cruel and unjust yoke of the Spaniards, who, by depriving him of civil rights and all his goods, degraded him to the low rank he now occupies. Before the conquest the people was divided in three distinct and almost equally honourable classes, land proprietors, warriors, and merchants; but the conquerors, reserving for themselves all these good things, restricted the Indians to the occupations of macehual (tiller of the ground), or tamene (porter), that is, a beast of burden, used by marching armies or merchants in their distant expeditions; and, although all careers are now opened to him, he is slow to avail himself of his newly-acquired privileges.

As an aguador, he still conveys water to every household, in jars, which he carries one behind, the other in front, supported by leather thongs covering his head; as a vendor he brings coals in nets made of aloe strings; his earthenware, poultry, eggs, vegetables, in huacales or cases made of twigs, kept together by strings; and, indeed, his tools, kitchen utensils and the like, are the same as he formerly used. The only alteration he has made in his costume has been to adopt nether garments, but in the Uplands he dispenses with this and is satisfied with his maxtli, "broad band." He has not varied his diet, nor the manner of preparing it; the staple of his food is still Indian corn, which he grinds with a metate, granite roller, or bakes into flat cakes, tortillas, in comals, or baking ovens. His vegetables he seasons highly, and on days of festival he adds to this simple fare a turkey when he is well-to-do, a piece of pork when poor; his drink is the pulque, the invention of which dates nearly four hundred years back; his jacal, or hut, composed of sticks lined with clay, roofed with aloe leaves, measuring at the basement some seven or ten feet square, is exactly the jacal of ancient chroniclers, without any pavement, hardly any furniture, save some few images of saints, which have replaced the terra-cotta household divinities.

In former times, when he lived on the lagoons, with no right to the land, which was held by his enemies, he satisfied his hunger with frogs and serpents, to be found in the marshes, salamanders, flies and flies' eggs, ahuatli, which latter were made into cakes, a dish which was adopted by the Spaniards; and, when further pressed by want and dearth, he invented chinampas, those floating gardens which so much surprised the conquerors. Chinampas were rafts of reeds, rushes, and other fibrous materials, which, tightly knit together, formed a sufficient basis for the heaps of black mud which the natives drew up from the bottom of the lake. Gradually islands were formed, some reaching two or three hundred feet in length, and three or four feet in depth, with a very rich soil, on which the thrifty Indian raised maize and vegetables for himself and flowers for the market, his prince, and his gods. Some of these chinampas were firm enough to allow the growth of small trees, and to have a hut for the owner, who, with a long pole resting on the sides or the bottom of the shallow basin, could change his position at pleasure, whether to move from an unpleasant neighbour or take his family on board, and moved on like some enchanted island over the water. In later times these floating gardens increased to such an extent that they completely girdled the city around with flowers and verdure, when every morning early numbers of boats, richly freighted, would be seen to glide through the canals and file out towards Plaza Mayor.11 Mexico, since the diminution of the lake, has become a high and dry city of the main land, with its centre nearly a league distant from the water; chinampas are no more; small flower-beds, divided by narrow causeways, where the Indian still mans his canoe, are all that remain of the floating gardens of olden time. Should the traveller wish to study the natives, he should go on market days toward the road which leads out of S. Cosme, by which great numbers both of men and women enter Pg 49

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Pg 51the city, their legs and backs bent under burdens heavier sometimes than an animal could carry. Indian women wear a dark woollen petticoat, striped with yellow, red, and green, and a piece of the same stuff, with an opening for the head, covers the bust and completes the costume. Notwithstanding their rags, some are not wanting in good looks, whilst most are well made, and were they cleanly and better dressed, many would be found strikingly pretty.

MEXICAN WATER-CARRIER.

MEXICAN TORTILLERA AND STRAW MAT SELLERS.

I only speak of young girls, for the old, covered with dirt rather than rags, are generally to be seen reeling under the influence of pulque. It is not too much to say that the Indian has retained all his primitive vices, and has added thereto those given him by his conquerors. Though he still preserves some of his popular legends, it is quite a chance if he understands anything about them; for in olden times, these were kept and transmitted by the upper classes, which have long ceased to exist, and the modern Indian knows absolutely nothing of his past history.

And here, to illustrate my meaning, I may be permitted to give an example of this marvellous ignorance, even regarding recent events. I happened to be in a village situated on Lake Chalco, when a number of Indians of both sexes, dressed up in old, ludicrous European costumes, got into boats and landed a short distance further, entering the village amidst a population which came out to meet them, with cries, hootings and blows, finally forcing them to re-embark. It was evident to me that this represented an invasion, which had been successfully repulsed, referring perhaps to the war of intervention, but though I asked, no one was able to enlighten me, contenting themselves with repeating "Francia, Francia." At last an old man said that the masquerade commemorated an incident in the Spanish war of 1808, during the first empire. And on my expressing my astonishment at the ignorance of the actors about a subject they represented every year: "Are your common people much wiser when they sing their Latin Mass?" objected my American friend. I felt that I was answered, and I was silent.

The Indian is fond of money, his delight is to hoard, yet he is no better for it, as regards his daily life; he has all the instinct of a miser without its benefit; for your miser enjoys his money, he visits it by stealth, spends his time in counting, in contemplating it, whereas the Indian buries his hoardings out of sight; the satisfaction of knowing that he is rich is all-sufficient for him, and he does not care for the things which his gold would procure. The Valley of Oaxaca, which for generations supplied the world with cochineal, is supposed to have millions of money buried underground. During my residence there, I knew a man who, it was rumoured, was fond of hoarding; on one occasion he received some ￡200 for ingots and cochineal, and two days after asked me for the loan of four shillings. "Well, but what have you done with the money you got two days since?" I asked. "Esta colocado, Se?or." "It's invested" (stowed underground). This secretive instinct, however, is not confined to the Indian, it is to be found among all conquered and persecuted races: serfs under Louis XIV. hid away both their bread and their money; the inhabitants of Indo-China and others only pay their taxes under pressure of the stick. It may be that the thrifty habit of our own middle classes, their wish to hoard for the mere sake of it, their aversion to part with it for any purpose of public good, which forms such a striking contrast to our Transatlantic fellow-citizens, is attributable to this instinct, which still survives when the need for it has long ceased to exist. We are, alas, but the freedmen of yesterday, whereas Americans have now long enjoyed the blessings of free institutions, and have besides the enormous advantage of trying them in an entirely new country. Untrammelled alike by traditions or the bonds which still fetter us, they are able to work out their benevolent or brilliant schemes, confident that their intelligence and their industry will lead them to new paths of progress and prosperity.

With the Indian this same instinct borders on fanaticism: the man who finds a treasure covers it up again carefully, not dreaming of making use of it; should he have a confidant, the latter will starve, nay, go through torture, rather than betray his friend. And here I cannot resist the temptation of telling an anecdote related to me by a Mexican friend bearing on the subject: A well-to-do Indian, who lived not far from Mexico, had a daughter whom a Frenchman was willing to marry, in the hope of inheriting the old man's fortune, which was supposed to amount to some ￡20,000. Like most Indians, he died intestate, when a search was made for his money, but none could be found. His only available property was his cottage and garden. The deceased was known to have had a wretchedly poor friend, the confidant of all his secrets. He was immediately applied to, and subjected to numerous questions by the heirs regarding the money, and to induce him to speak, they offered the quarter, nay, the half of the hidden treasure, but he still refused; at last they thought of making him drunk, hoping that what they had been unable to obtain would be effected by pulque. He was made comfortable, when he became very confiding, so confiding that the expectant heir fully believed that a moment more would see him the happy recipient of the long-treasured-up secret, but the poor man suddenly stopped, horrified at what he was going to say, seeming to see his friend's ghost before him, reproaching him for his disloyalty.

We shall not be taking leave of the Indian if we pay a visit to the Museum, where Aztec pottery, Aztec jewellery, Aztec kings, and Aztec gods will remind us of him everywhere. The Mexican Museum cannot be called rich, in so far that there is nothing remarkable in what the visitor is allowed to see. After reading the glowing accounts regarding Mexican manufacture and their marvellous objects of art, it was natural that I should be anxious to see the jewels, stuffs, manuscripts, and above all the paintings made with birds' feathers, representing domestic scenes, and the portraits of Aztec monarchs, but I saw nothing in the two large rooms devoted to Mexican antiquities. I was told that the Museum was not in working order, that nothing was classified, that more space was being prepared in which the precious objects now shut up in numerous cases would be laid out for the benefit of the public. It may be so. For the present, we have to content ourselves with a collection of obsidian, marble, and porphyry heads; a number of large yokes, beautifully carved, besides several pieces of jade, rock-crystal, and bars of gold. As for the long rows of so-called "ancient vases," there is not one that is not imitation. This I know to my cost, for with a credulity which subsequent events hardly justified, I no sooner was told that these vases were of great antiquity, than I immediately ordered three hundred to be cast from them, which I caused to be placed in the Trocadéro during the Paris Exhibition; but on an expert in such matters seeing them, he at once detected and exposed the fraud, and in my disappointment it was not much comfort to reflect, that with half the money expended on these comparatively worthless objects, I might have bought, close to Mexico, a whole collection of vases of undoubted antiquity. It is a curious circumstance, that Mexicans, even the best informed among them, as well as foreigners, should so often be victimised by vulgar forgers of antiquities, who trade on the passions of the collector and the gullibility of the public; and that such things cannot be done in Europe without immediate detection, can only arise from the superior knowledge of our savants, and the greater facility afforded them of observing, classifying, and comparing the productions of all the civilised nations of the world, in the numerous collections with which our museums, both public and private, abound. In my own case, after my excavations, I never could have been so grossly imposed upon by pottery modern in shape, over which ancient bas-reliefs had been incongruously reproduced, forming a monstrous medley of things old and new, without any originality whatever. Their history is this: the manufacture was carried out on a large scale at Tlatiloco, a Mexican suburb, between 1820 and 1828, and the author must have realised an enormous fortune, if we are to judge from the quantity which he sent broadcast into the world-most museums, nearly all private collections are infested with them, whilst a great number are even now bought by the unwary. The thing was done in this way. Vases of every shape were chosen, without much thought or care, relying on the ignorance and the stupidity of the public; every form was used, whether a common water-jug, a flat or round vase, a rude or shapely jar, and by means of ancient moulds found in vast quantities in the whole area of the valley, heads, images, tiny figures, whistles, geometrical designs, palm-leaves, etc., were inlaid on the object, which had a simple, double, or treble twisted handle according to its size; it was a tripod with a gaping mouth, or topped with arabesque, when the occasion served. Variety was its distinctive merit; and when completed this fine work of art was buried some twelve months or more to impress upon it the hand of time, and thus prepared was launched on its course.

COURT IN THE MEXICO MUSEUM.

I trust that these few observations will serve as a warning to people, and save them from experience as costly as my own. Having now relieved my conscience, we will go back to the Museum and look at what I consider the finest portion, namely the court, planted with beautiful palm-trees, shrubs, and flowers, amongst which may be seen the most interesting Pg 57

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Pg 59specimens of the whole collection. First and foremost is a statue of a man lying on his back, holding a cup with both hands and pressing it against his body. It was found at Chichen-Itza, in Yucatan, by Leplongeon, an American explorer, who was obliged to part with it in favour of the Mexican Government, in virtue of the law which declares all antiquities to be national property. Next to this in interest come two other statues, like it in all respects: one discovered at Tlascala, the other marked "unknown." This similarity of objects of art found among the populations of the plateaux and those of the Yucatan peninsula seems to point to identity of worship among those tribes. Sanchez, the director of the Museum, believes this statue to be Tetzcatzoncatl, god of wine; but Perez and Dr. Hamy are of opinion that it represents Tlaloc, god of rain, in which view I coincide. However that may be, we will speak of it at greater length when we come to Chichen-Itza, where it was unearthed. On the second plan, to the left, stands the Tlascalan Tlaloc, and behind it Quetzalcoatl, "the feathered serpent," tutelar deity of the Toltecs, and worshipped by all American tribes; he came to have many names, and was represented under various forms, according to his multifarious attributes. He was the Zoroaster of Anahuac; "under him the earth produced fruits and flowers of its own accord. An ear of Indian corn was as much as a man could carry. The air was filled with perfumes and the sweet melody of birds," etc.

TEOYAOMIQUI, GOD OF DEATH AND WAR.

THE STONE OF THE SUN, OR OF TIZOC, MEXICO MUSEUM.

At the extremity of the court, to the left, we find a block of serpentine with a magnificent head beautifully sculptured, marked in the catalogue as "the rising moon," but which Bustamente thinks to be Temascaltoci, the goddess who presided over ablutions, and Chavero, one of the many forms under which Quetzalcoatl was represented. In the same line with these stands a huge block, having a hideous figure of Death, Teoyaomiqui (a goddess), besides a vast number of divinities, ranging over the whole Indian Olympus, collected under the gallery at the furthest extremity of the court, most of which are frightful, and would give a poor idea of Aztec talent, did we not know that they are all specimens of hieratic art, and as such were not permitted to vary in shape or design. And now we come to Tizoc's stone, or Temalacatl, the sun's stone, one of the most interesting in the collection, and connected with a bloody episode which is reported by most historians. It would have been broken up for paving the square, like many other monuments of this kind found on the same spot and about the same time, had not Canon Gamboa arrested the work of destruction, and caused the stone to be placed in the north-west side of the churchyard, where it was left undisturbed until 1824, when it was transferred to the University for a short time, and finally placed in the middle of the court of the New Museum. This monument is a block of trachyte, oblong in shape, measuring over eight feet in diameter, thirty-one feet in circumference, and some two feet six inches in depth. The surface is ornamented with two figures, portrayed in fifteen different attitudes, recalling the victories of the Emperor Tizoc. Two women are seen among the vanquished, from which it would appear that the Salic Law was not in force among the Indians. In every one of these groups Tizoc is represented holding by the hair the vanquished, who, in a supplicating posture, seems to ask for mercy. Over each figure may be seen a hieroglyph, expressive of the conquered city represented by her chief. The surface of the stone is occupied by an image of the sun, having in the centre a hole some six inches deep, which is connected with a tube terminating on the upper circumference. This hole is supposed to have been made by the Spaniards in their attempt to split the stone, which was so fortunately stopped by Canon Gamboa, but not before they had mutilated every face of the different groups. This supposition seems borne out by the fact that it was not likely the original makers would have bored a hole right through the bassi-relievi, and thus deface their own work.

The Temalacatl, or "gladiatorial stone," as it was called by the Spaniards, must not be confused with the Techcatl, or "stone of sacrifice." The former was always to be found in the courts of the Temple, placed over a basement varying in bulk according to the size of the stone, from which the captive, particularly if he happened to be a man of distinction, was allowed to fight against a number of enemies in succession; but, besides the inequality of numbers, he was furnished only with a wooden sword ornamented with feathers along the blade, whereas his adversaries had weapons of obsidian, "as sharp as steel." If he succeeded in defeating them all, as did occasionally happen, he was allowed to escape, but if vanquished he was dragged to the stone, the upper surface of which was somewhat convex to receive the victim; on this the prisoner was stretched, five priests securing his head and his limbs, while a sixth, clad in a scarlet mantle, dexterously opened the breast of the victim with a sharp knife, and inserting his hand in the wound, tore out the heart, and holding it up first towards the sun-a god common to all-cast it at the face or the feet of the divinity to whom the temple was dedicated, whilst the multitudes knelt in humble adoration at the foot of the stone or pyramid ready to receive the body, which was hurled down by the priests, and which the people divided among themselves, to have it served up in an entertainment in honour of the particular god they were celebrating.

THE TEMALACATL, OR GLADIATORIAL STONE, FROM RAMIREZ MS.

The sacrifice ceremonial, whether from the summit of the Temple or from the gladiatorial stone, was exactly the same, save that the latter, standing but a few feet from the ground, allowed the whole city to witness the ghastly details of the sight. These stones were perfectly plain or beautifully sculptured, like the one under notice, according to the teocalli it was destined for, or the degree and importance of the donor. The temalacatl or stone of Montezuma I., which up to the present time has not been found, is supposed to lie buried under the "Plaza de las Armas" in Mexico. Besides these, there was a smaller circular stone, the Cuauhxicalli, "eagle's cup," so called from the hearts of the victims being thrown into the hole situated in the centre, and which now, by a curious contrast, is used as a drinking trough by pigeons and small birds.12

The last Montezuma would have also erected a Temalacatl, for which a huge block of stone was transported from Aculco, beyond Lake Chalco, but in crossing a bridge which traversed one of the canals, the supports gave way, and the gigantic mass was precipitated into the water, where it still lies.

A military point of honour, as understood among the western nations of Europe, was so deeply rooted in the Indian warriors that they would suffer death rather than be guilty of any act that could lower them in the estimation of their fellow-citizens. With the Mexicans and Tlaxcaltecs, a soldier, if unfortunate enough to be made a prisoner, was reserved for sacrifice, especially if he happened to be of superior rank; to be ransomed was deemed unworthy and a disgrace. A few years before the arrival of the Spaniards, the Uexotzincas, the Tlaxcaltecs and the Mexicans were at war with each other. In one of the frequent skirmishes between the rival nations, it happened that a Tlaxcaltec chief, by name Tlahuicole, was captured. His fame as a warrior had spread far and wide; his prowess was so well known that few cared to measure their strength with his, or feel the weight of his huge tomahawk, which a man of common stature could hardly lift. But one day, in the heat of pursuit, he got far ahead of all his companions, when he was waylaid in a morass, immediately surrounded, placed in a cage, and conveyed to Mexico amidst the rejoicings of the enemy. He was brought to the Emperor Moteuh?oma, who, on hearing his name, not only spared his life but offered him his liberty, and treated him with marked distinction. But Tlahuicole refused everything, and besought the Emperor to devote him to the gods according to custom. Seeing that he could not be prevailed upon to accept any offer, however brilliant, Moteuh?oma gave orders that he should be tied on the gladiatorial stone and that some of his best soldiers should fight him, whilst he himself, with a numerous retinue, witnessed the scene. Tlahuicole killed successively eight men, and wounded upwards of twenty; but he succumbed at last, and was carried off to be offered to the war-god Huitzilopochtli.13

But to return: this temalacatl clearly belongs to Tizoc, for his portrait is seen on the edge of the stone, whilst a speckled leg (he is supposed to have had varices) is sculptured above his image. The monument, however, like the great temple, may have been completed by his successor Ahuitzotl between 1484-1486.

Human sacrifices were made even more revolting by cannibalism, which from the Aztecs spread among all the surrounding nations, and were adopted by the populations with which they were at war by way of reprisals. The more humane chiefs, such as Netzahualcoyotl, king of Texcuco, tried to oppose this barbarous custom; but they were obliged to yield before the ignorance of the people and the fanaticism of the priests, who seeing that the supply of prisoners of war began to fail, clamoured for more, and urged on the monarchs the necessity of sacrificing their own subjects, on the ground that they would be more easily obtained; that they would be fresher, more acceptable, and in the same condition as children and slaves. In the year 1454, the country was visited by a horrible famine, and the priests declared that the celestial wrath could only be appeased by regular and numerous sacrifices; to obtain which a treaty was entered into by the three allied kings of Mexico, Texcuco, and Tlacopan with the three republics of Tlascala, Huezotzinco, and Cholula, by which they agreed that their troops should engage to fight on the first days of each month, on the territory between Cuantepec and Ocelotepec, and thus supply themselves with human victims. The men engaged in these encounters received the terrible name of "enemies of the house," whilst these monthly affrays are known in history as the "Holy War." It was not on the circular Temalacatl that victims were sacrificed, but on the dreadful Techcatl, "stone of sacrifice," which was 6 ft. 6 in. long by 3 ft. 3 in. wide, and about 3 ft. high, so as to enable the officiating priests to have a thorough command over their victim. At the dedication of the great temple of Huitzilopochtli in 1486, the prisoners who for some years had been reserved for this solemn occasion, were drawn up and ranged in files, forming a procession along the narrow causeways two miles long, when the number sacrificed is almost beyond belief, and is variously estimated at 80,000 and 20,000. The massacre lasted four days, and was begun by the kings of Mexico, Texcuco, Tacuba, and the Minister Tlacael, until they were relieved by the priests. However, the number of victims immolated has no doubt been much exaggerated.14

It is difficult to reconcile these revolting usages with a people that had made great advance in civilisation. American writers have tried to palliate the abominable practices of their ancestors, on the ground that they shared them in common with every other nation in the early stage of their history. In their eyes the Aztecs, if not commendable, were at least pardonable, and Orozco y Berra says that "human sacrifices originate from an error of the mind rather than from evil disposition; that it is the result of an exaggerated religious feeling, and not a real desire to do evil. That this institution, if philosophically considered, is not deserving of the intempestive lamentations of a few sentimental moralists."15 "The horror I feel," he adds, "for the revolting abuse of human sacrifice, yields to what I feel for utter impiety; I will go further, and say that I prefer human sacrifice to atheism, as I prefer the ignorant negro who bows before his fetish, to a free-thinker." Obviously Orozco is animated with the same spirit as his ancestors. An Aztec of the olden time would have adduced better reasons, for he held that to be sacrificed on the altar of his god was even more glorious than to die in battle, since it ensured him a speedy passage into paradise; and as the enemy was never slain if there were a chance of taking him alive, the number of those who disappeared was a fixed quantity. The same argument is urged in favour of cannibalism, but it is at least doubtful if it ever existed as an institution among other civilised nations. Men, however cruel, do not feed on one another, unless obliged by an absolute necessity; and cannibalism, which no doubt existed with all primitive populations, only continued among those who were deprived of sufficient space where they could hunt and feed their flocks, and who were reduced to a scanty supply of roots and herbs for their subsistence. This was observed among the Cara?bs at the time of the Conquest; in the islands of the Pacific, in Australia, where the soil is so poor, that although cannibalism prevails, the increase of population has to be kept down, and the recent introduction of pigs in the islands has diminished but not eradicated this ancient practice, which has never flourished with races provided with bears, reindeer, horses, and herds. This usage, which at first was a necessity, became a sacred tradition with the Aztecs, with whom religion was all-powerful; it directed the State, presided over the minutest details of domestic life, and as the influence of the priests was unbounded, peasants and princes had to bow their necks to their tyranny. They cannot be called cannibals, however, in the coarsest sense of the word, for they did not feed on human flesh to gratify their appetite, but as a duty, and in obedience to their religion; and during the long and terrible siege of Mexico not a single case of cannibalism is recorded against them by ancient authorities. Whence did they derive this religious practice? Not from the nations of the ancient continent with whom they have so much in common, for at that time cannibalism was no longer practised among the nomadic tribes of Eastern Asia; nor from Japan or China, where the people had always lived on the produce of the soil; it is probable that they received it from the Cara?bs of the Antilles and the Polynesian races of the Pacific, who made them forget the mild teachings and higher civilisation of the Toltecs.

WRONG SACRIFICIAL COLLAR.

RIGHT SACRIFICIAL COLLAR.

We give the drawings of two yokes: No. 1 is the yoke which up to the present time has been universally accepted as that used for securing the victim during the sacrifice, of which several specimens are to be seen in Mexican museums and in our own Trocadéro, but which, owing to the cylindrical shape of the arch, measuring some sixteen inches in height by about seven in width, we maintain could never have been used for the purpose assigned to it; whereas No. 2, which we claim to have unearthed, answers in our opinion exactly to the requirements of a yoke for such a purpose. It is almost the width of the Techcatl, and is concave on its lower surface, which makes it a perfect fit for a convex stone; it has, moreover, a round hollow in the centre, sufficiently large to steady a man's neck, so that the priest had only to apply this yoke to prevent any movement, when, to use Father Duran's expression, he let fall his sharp silex knife and the victim opened "like a pomegranate."16

Notwithstanding the assertion of most historians respecting the work of the Aborigines, it is difficult to account how with the tools they were acquainted with they could cut not only the hardest substances, but also build the numerous structures which are still seen in Mexico and Central America, together with the sculptures, bas-reliefs, statues, and inscriptions like those we reproduce. These monuments were innumerable, of all dimensions, and according to Leon y Gama,17 there was no town or settlement which did not possess on the stones of its walls, on the rocks of its mountains, the year of its foundation, its origin, and the history of its progress engraved in symbols and characters which could only be read by the Indians themselves. It is all the more inexplicable that they should have only used stone implements, that copper was abundant, and that they knew how to temper and make it nearly as hard as steel. The method employed by stone sculptors, however, has in all probability been lost.

Clavigero18 says that stone was worked with tools of hard stone; that copper hatchets were used by carpenters, and also to cultivate the soil and to fell trees; and Mendieta writes that both carpenters and joiners used copper tools, but that their work was not so beautiful as that of the sculptors on stone who had silex implements.19

Some historians have proved to their own satisfaction that copper was unknown to the Indians; but had they taken the trouble to read, however slightly, any authority on the subject, they would have paused before they advanced a theory which is entirely at variance with all writers, both ancient and modern. It is an ascertained fact that very rich copper-mines have been worked since the Conquest;20 and in 1873, whilst sinking a shaft in a copper-mine at Aguila, in the State of Guerrero, the miner lost suddenly the vein; and on examining the cause of the accident an excavation was found 4 ft. 4 in. long, 4 ft. 9 in. deep, and over 3 ft. wide, in which was a rich copper vein from 2 to 4 in. in thickness. The engineer, Felipe Lorainzar, could see no sign of iron or powder having been used, but the walls showed marks of fire; and both the copper ore and the rock in which it was embedded, were shattered and split in various places. In the rubbish were found 142 stones of different dimensions, shaped like hammers and wedges, the edges of which were blunt or broken; these stones were of a different substance from the surrounding rock, clearly indicating that the mine had originally been worked by the natives.21

Copper was likewise found in Chili, Columbia, Chihuahua, and in New Mexico. Before the Conquest, the Indians procured lead and tin from the mines of Tasco, but copper was the metal used in mechanic arts. Hatchets, arms, and scissors were made of copper found in the mountains of Zocatollan. The letters of Cortez tell us that among the taxes paid by the conquered people, figured copper hatchets and lingots of the same metal, which were paid every eighty days. Bernal Diaz22 says that in his second expedition with Grijalva, the inhabitants of Goatzacoalco brought them upwards of six hundred copper hatchets in three days, having wood handles exquisitely painted, and so polished that "we thought at first they were gold." Copper was also found in Venezuela, where, at the present day, jewels of copper, or mixed with gold, crocodiles, lizards, and frogs are found. We procured some and placed them in the Trocadéro, having the same dimensions as those in Central America. Those we found on our first visit to Mitla, are thin, shaped like a tau, and hardly 4 in. long. Dupaix found similar hatchets at Mitla, and he thinks they were used as currency, a supposition all the more probable, that an Indian from Zochoxocotlan, near Oaxaca, found an earthen pot containing twenty-three dozen of these taus, but differing slightly from each other both in size and thickness. We read in Torquemada,23 that copper tablets, varying in thickness and shaped like a tau, were used as currency in various regions, and that they contained a large proportion of gold.

Gumesindo Mendoza mentions copper scissors in the Mexican Museum which were found to contain 97·87 lead, 100 copper, 213 platinum, 100 tin, and infinitesimal quantities of gold and zinc. On removing the oxide which covered them the bronze looked like red gold, its density being equal to 8.815; it is harder than copper and breaks under strong pressure, the broken part showing a fine granulation, like steel; but its hardness is less than carburetted iron and insufficient for the use it was intended for.

Humboldt says that Peruvian scissors contained 94 lead, 100 copper, 6 platinum, 100 tin, and that their specific weight was 8·815; other scissors analysed by Ramirez yielded 90 lead, 100 copper, 10 platinum, and 100 tin. It seems almost impossible that the Indians should not have used these admirable bronze scissors to build palaces, sculpture their idols and the images of their kings, which are still visible on the porphyry rocks of Chapultepec; and if it is denied that they were able to carve such hard substances, they must be credited with having easily worked the calcareous stones of Chiapas and Yucatan.

The American tribes had reached the transition epoch between the polished stone and the bronze period, which was marked by considerable progress in architecture and some branches of science. With them this period lasted longer than in the old world, owing to their never having come in contact with nations of a higher civilisation and possessed of better tools. Their only scientific data in the past were traditions which, if we believe their apologists, were carefully preserved and developed; but they have nearly all been lost, and great uncertainty must for ever rest upon the degree of their scientific progress; for it is equally impossible to accept either the wild theories of the good Abbé Brasseur, who sees in the Troano and Chilmalpoca codices, a whole system of geology dating ten thousand years back, as it is impossible to accept the childish dreams of Leplongeon, who credits the Mayas with every discovery down to the electric telegraph; nor yet those who maintain that without astronomical instruments (since they were unacquainted with glass) the Aztecs had discovered the composition of the sun and the transit of Venus. It seems as futile to make the Nahuas the inventors of everything as to rank them with mere savages. The religion of a people is a sure index of the degree of its culture; we know that the moral code and religion of the Toltecs showed wonderful growth towards all the essentials of a high civilisation, for religion in its early stage is but a gross fetishism, of which the head of the family is the priest, who performs before his household god the simple ceremonies he learnt from his forefathers. But as the tribe rises in importance his duties become more complicated, and he is willing to lay down his priestly office in favour of a poet or prophet, who, whilst the warriors are engaged in warfare and other avocations, shall pray for the welfare of the tribe and expound the wishes of the deity, receiving for his services part of the booty or the produce of the chase, and later, have his share of the land under cultivation. He soon adopts a dress so as to be distinguished from the warriors and the people; and as the number of priests increases, offerings are multiplied; a more imposing ceremonial replaces the simple worship of former days, temples and chapels are built, the image of the god is placed in the sanctuary, and only approached by the high priest, who becomes the sole interpreter between god and man. The former is now given numerous personalities, according to his various attributes, and the simple fetish of an early epoch develops in process of time into a mighty host, frequently numbering upwards of three thousand deities like the Aztec Olympus, for whose service a numerous priesthood and great wealth are required, implying a high degree of civilisation.

That there should be great uncertainty upon questions resting chiefly on vague traditions is natural enough, but that the same should be the case with matters that admitted of easy proof seems unaccountable; as, for instance, the name of Montezuma, in whose intimacy the Spaniards lived several months; yet of the twenty-three chroniclers who wrote about him, two call him Motecuhzoma, three Montezuma, and the remaining eighteen spell his name in as many different ways.

And here we will take leave of the Aztecs, whose history has been so admirably written by Prescott. My object in writing about them was to give some idea, however slight, of this people, in order to prepare the reader to follow me in my investigations respecting the far more ancient civilisation of the Toltecs-a civilisation which from them passed to the Aztecs, the Nahua tribes, and the people of Central America; the remains of which are still to be seen, whilst its stones will compose, together with chroniclers and historians, the foundation of our work.

HUMAN SACRIFICES.

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ANCIENT INDIAN POTTERY.

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