Chapter 24

CHALCHICOMULA. JALAPA. VERA CRUZ. CONCLUSION.

The mountain-slopes which descend from the Sierra Madre eastward toward the sea are furrowed by _barrancas_—deep ravines with perpendicular sides, and with streams flowing at the bottom. But here all these _barrancas_ run almost due east and west, so that our journey from Vera Cruz to Mexico was made, as far as I can recollect, without crossing one. Now, the case was quite different. We had to go from the Potrero to the city of Jalapa, about fifty miles on the map, nearly northward, and to get over these fifty miles cost us two days and a half of hard riding.

By the road it cannot be much less than eighty miles; but people used to tell us that, during the American war, an Indian went from Orizaba to Jalapa with despatches within the twenty-four hours, probably by mountain-paths which made it a little shorter. He came quite easily into Jalapa at the same shuffling trot which he had kept up almost without intermission for the whole distance. This is the Indian’s regular pace when he is on a journey, and I believe that the Red Indians of the north have a similar gait.

We used sometimes to see a village or a house three or four miles off, and count upon reaching it in half an hour. But a few steps further on there would be a barranca, invisible till we came close to it, perhaps not more than a few hundred feet wide, so that it was easy to talk to people on the other bank. But the bottom of the chasm might be five hundred or a thousand feet below us; and the only way to cross was to ride along the bank, often for miles, until we reached a place where it had been possible to make a steep bridle-path zigzagging down to the stream below, and up again on the other side. It is only here and there that even such paths can be made, for the walls of rock are generally too steep even for any vegetation, except grass and climbing plants in the crevices. Our half-hour’s ride, as we supposed it would be, would often extend to two or three hours, for on these slopes two or three barrancas—large and small—-have sometimes to be crossed within as many miles.

If our journey had been even slower and more difficult, we should not have regretted it; the country through which we were riding was so beautiful. There were but few inhabitants, and the landscape was much as nature had left it. The great volcano of Orizaba came into view now and then with its snowy cone,[24] mountain-streams came rushing along the ravines, and the forests of oaks were covered with innumerable species of orchids and creepers, breaking down the branches with their weight. Many kinds were already in flower, and their great blossoms of white, purple, blue, and yellow, stood out against the dark green of the oak-leaves. Wherever a mountain-stream ran down some shady little valley, there were tree-ferns thirty feet high, with the new fronds forming a tuft at the top of the old scarred trunk. Round the Indian cottages were cactuses with splendid crimson flowers, daturas with brilliant white blossoms, palm- and fruit-trees of fifty kinds. We stopped at one of the cottages, and bought an armadillo that had just been caught in the woods close by, while routing among his favourite ants’ nests. He was put into a palm-leaf basket, which held him all but the tip of his long taper tail, which, like the rest of his body, was covered with rings of armour fitting beautifully into one another. One of our men carried him thus in his arms to Jalapa.

[24] See the illustration at page 281.

The Mexicans call an armadillo “_ayotochtli_,” that is, “tortoise-rabbit,” a name which will be appreciated by any one who knows the appearance of the little animal.

The villages and towns we passed were dismal places enough, and the population scanty; but that this had not always been the case was evident from the numerous remains of ancient Indian mound-forts or temples which we passed on our road, indicating the existence of large towns at some former period. There is a drawing in Lord Kingsborough’s work of a _teocalli_ or pyramid at San Andrés Chalchicomula, which we seem to have missed on account of the darkness having come on before we reached the town. We were several times deceived that evening by the fireflies, which we took for lights moving about in some village just ahead of us; and we became so incredulous at last that we would not believe we had reached our journey’s end until we could made out the dim outlines of the houses. At the inn at San Andrés we found that we could have no rooms, as all the little windowless dens were occupied by people from the country who had come in for a _fiesta_. There were indeed a good many men loafing about the courtyard, but scarcely any women, and we could hardly understand a fandango happening without them. They thought otherwise, however; and presently, hearing the tinkling of a guitar, we went out and saw two great fellows in broad hats, jackets, and serapes, solemnly dancing opposite to one another; while more men looked on, smoking cigarettes, and an old fellow with a face like a baboon was squatting in one corner and producing the music we had heard. To do them justice, I must say that we found, on further enquiry, they had not come from their respective ranchos merely to make fools of themselves in this way, but that there was to be some horsefair in the neighbourhood next day, and they were going there.

Our not being able to get any supper but eggs and bread, and having to sleep on the supper-table afterwards, confirmed us in the theory we were beginning to adopt, that nature and mankind vary in an inverse ratio; and we were off at daybreak, delighted to get into the forest again. We rode over hill and dale for four or five hours, and then along the edge of a barranca for the rest of the day. This was one of the grandest chasms we had ever seen, even in Mexico. It was four or five miles wide, and two or three thousand feet deep, and its floor was a mass of tropical verdure, with here and there an Indian rancho and a patch of cultivated ground on the bank of the rapid river, whose sound we heard when we approached the edge of the barranca. There were more orchids and epidendrites than ever in the forest. In some places they had killed every third tree, by forming so and close a covering over its branches as to destroy its life; they were flourishing unimpaired on the rotting branches of trees which they had brought down to the ground years before. The rainy season had not yet set in in this part of the country; and, though we could hear the rushing of the torrent below, we looked in vain for water in the forest, until our man Martin showed us the _bromelias_ in the forks of the branches, in the inside of whose hollow leaves nature has laid up a supply of water for the thirsty traveller.

We loaded our horses with the bulbs of such orchids as were still in the dry state, and would travel safely to Europe. Sometimes we climbed into the trees for promising specimens, but oftener contented ourselves with tearing them from the branches as we rode below. When saddle-bags and pockets were full, we were for a time at fault, for there seemed no place for new treasures, when suddenly I remembered a pair of old trousers. We tied up the ends of the legs, which we filled with orchids; and the garment travelled to Jalapa sitting in its natural position across my saddle, to the amazement of such Mexican society as we met. The contents of the two pendant legs are now producing splendid flowers in several English hothouses.

By evening we reached the _Junta_, a place where the great ravine was joined by a smaller one, and a long slanting descent brought us to the edge of the river. There was a ferry here, consisting of a raft of logs which the Indian ferryman hauled across along a stout rope. The horses were attached to the raft by their halters, and so swam across. On the point of land between the two rivers the Indians had their huts, and there we spent the night. We chose the fattest _guajalote_ of the turkey-pen, and in ten minutes he was simmering in the great earthen pot over the fire, having been cut into many pieces for convenience of cooking, and the women were busy grinding Indian corn to be patted out into tortillas. While supper was getting ready, and Mr. Christy’s day’s collection of plants was being pressed (the country we had been passing through is so rich that the new specimens gathered that day filled several quires of paper), we had a good deal of talk with the brown people, who could all speak a little Spanish. Some years before, the two old people had settled there, and set up the ferry. Besides this, they made nets and caught much fish in the river, and cultivated the little piece of ground which formed the point of the promontory. While their descendants went no further than grandchildren the colony had done very well; but now great-grandchildren had begun to arrive, and they would soon have to divide, and form a settlement up in the woods across the river, or upon some patch of ground at the bottom of one of the barrancas.

We were interested in studying the home-life of these people, so different from what we are accustomed to among our peasants of Northern Europe, whose hard continuous labour is quite unknown here. For the men, an occasional pull at the _balsas_ (the rafts of the ferry), a little fishing, and now and then—when they are in the humour for it— a little digging in the garden-ground with a wooden spade, or dibbling with a pointed stick. The women have a harder life of it, with the eternal grinding and cooking, cotton-spinning, mat-weaving, and tending of the crowds of babies. Still it is an easy lazy life, without much trouble for to-day or care for to-morrow. When the simple occupations of the day are finished, the time does not seem to hang heavy upon their hands. The men lie about, “thinking of nothing at all;” and the women—old and young—gossip by the hour, in obedience to that beneficent law of nature which provides that their talk shall increase inversely in proportion to what they have to talk about. We find this law attaining to its most complete fulfilment when they shut themselves up in nunneries, to escape as much as possible from all sources of worldly interest, and gossip there more industriously than anywhere else, as we are informed on very good authority.

Like all the other Mexican Indians whose houses we visited, the people here showed but little taste in adorning their dwellings, their dresses and their household implements. Beyond a few calabashes scraped smooth and ornamented with coloured devices, and the blue patterns on the women’s cotton skirts, there was scarcely anything to be seen in the way of ornament. How great was the skill of the Mexicans in ornamental work at the time of the Conquest, we can tell from the carved work in wood and stone preserved in museums, the graceful designs on the pottery, the tapestry, and the beautiful feather-work; but this taste has almost disappeared in the country. Just in the same way, contact with Europeans has almost destroyed the little decorative arts among most barbarous people, as, for example, the Red Indians and the natives of the Pacific Islands; and what little skill in these things is left among them is employed less for themselves than in making curious trifles for the white people, and even in these we find that European patterns have mixed with the old designs, or totally superseded them.

The Indians lodged us in an empty cane-hut, where they spread mats upon the ground, and we made pillows of our saddles. We were soon tired of looking up at the stars through the chinks in the roof, and slept till long after sunrise. Then the Indians rafted us across the second river; and we rode on to Jalapa, having accomplished our horseback journey of nearly three hundred miles with but one accident, the death of a horse, the four-pound one. He had been rather overworked, but would most likely have got through, had we not stopped the last night at the Indian _ranchos_, where there was no forage but green maize leaves, a food our beasts were not accustomed to. It seems our men gave him too much of this, and then allowed him to drink excessively; and next morning he grew weaker and weaker, and died not long after we reached Jalapa. Our other two horses were rather thin, but otherwise in good condition; and the horse-dealers, after no end of diplomacy on both sides, knocked under to our threat of sending them back to Mexico in charge of Antonio, and gave us within a pound or two of what they had cost us. There, is a good deal of trading in horses done at Jalapa, where travellers coming down from Mexico sell their beasts, which are disposed of at great prices to other travellers coming up from the coast. Between here and Vera Cruz, people prefer travelling in the Diligence, or in some covered carriage, to exposing themselves to the sun in the hot and pestilential region of the coast.

Jalapa is a pleasant city among the hills, in a country of forests, green turf, and running streams. It is the very paradise of botanists; and its products include a wonderful variety of trees and flowers, from the apple- and pear-trees of England to the _mameis_ and _zapotes_ of tropical America, and the brilliant orchids which are the ornament of our hot-houses. The name of the town itself has a botanical celebrity, for in the neighbouring forests grows the _Purga de Jalapa_, which we have shortened into _jalap_.

A day’s journey above it, lies the limit of eternal snow, upon the peak of Orizaba; a day’s journey below it is Vera Cruz, the city of the yellow fever, surrounded by burning sands and poisonous exhalations, in a district where, during the hot months now commencing, the thermometer scarcely ever descends below 80°, day or night. Jalapa hardly knows summer or winter, heat or cold. The upper current of hot air from the Gulf of Mexico, highly charged with aqueous vapour, strikes the mountains about this level, and forms the belt of clouds that we have already crossed more than once during our journey. Jalapa is in this cloudy zone, and the sky is seldom clear there. It is hardly hotter in summer than in England, and not even hot enough for the mosquitoes, which are not to be found here though they swarm in the plain below. This warm damp climate changes but little in the course of the year. There are no seasons, in our sense of the word, for spring lasts through the year.

We walked out on the first afternoon of our arrival; and sat on stone seats on a piece of green turf surrounded by trees, that reminded us pleasantly of the village-greens of England. There we talked with the children of an English acquaintance who had been settled for many years in the town, and had married a Mexican lady. They were fine lads; but, as very often happens in such cases, they could only speak the language of the country. Nothing can show more clearly how thoroughly a foreigner yields to the influences around him, when he settles in a country and marries among its people. An Englishman’s own character, for instance, may remain to some extent; but his children are scarcely English in language or in feeling, and in the next generation there is nothing foreign about his descendants but the name.

When we reached our hotel it was about sunset, and the heavy dew had wetted us through, as though we had been walking in the rain. This was no exceptional occurrence. All the year round such dews fall morning and evening, as well as almost daily showers of rain. The climate is too warm for this dampness to injure health, as it would in our colder regions. To us, who had just left the bracing air of the high plateaus, it seemed close and relaxing; but the inhabitants are certainly strong and healthy, and one can imagine the enjoyment which the white inhabitants of Vera Cruz must feel, when they can get away from that city of pestilence into the pure air of the mountains.

Our quarters were at the _Veracruzana_, where we occupied a great whitewashed room. A large grated window opened into the garden, where the armadillo was fastened to a tree by a long string, and had soon dug a deep hole with his powerful fore-claws, as the manner of the creature is. The necessity of supplying the “little man in armour” with insects for his daily food gave us some idea of the amazing abundance and variety of the insects of the district. We caught creeping things innumerable in the garden, but narrowly escaped being stung by a small scorpion; and therefore delegated the task to an old Indian, who walked out into the fields with an earthen pot, and returned with it full of insects in about half an hour. We reckoned that there were over fifty species in the pot.

Many of the houses and Indian huts were adorned with collections of insects pinned on the walls in patterns, among which figured scorpions some three inches long; and the centre-ornament was usually a tarantula, said to be one of the most poisonous creatures of the tropics, a monstrous spider, whose dark grey body and legs are covered with hairs. A fine specimen will have a body about as large as a small hen’s egg, and, with his legs in their natural position, will just stand in a cheese-plate. The Boots of the hotel went out and caught a fine scorpion for our amusement; he brought it into our room wrapped in a piece of brown paper, and was on the point of letting it out on our table for us to see it run. We protested against this, and had it put into a tumbler and covered it up with a book.

The inner _patio_ of the hotel was surrounded with the usual arcade, into which the rooms opened. Close to our door was a long table, with a green cloth, where the Jalapenians were constantly playing _monte_, from nine in the morning till late at night. All classes were represented there, from the muleteer who came to lose his hard-earned dollars, to the rich shopkeepers and planters of the town and neighbourhood.

I went early one afternoon to the house of the principal agent for the Vera Cruz carriers, to arrange for sending down our heavy packages to the coast. There was no one at the office but a girl. I enquired for the master—“_Está jugando_,”—“He is playing,” she said. I need not have gone so far to look for him, for he was sitting just outside our bedroom door, and indeed had been there all day. Before he condescended to arrange our business, he waited to see the fate of the dollar he had just put down, and which I was glad to see he lost.

Jalapa was not always the stagnant place it is now. Its pleasant houses and gardens date from a period when it was a town of some importance. In old times the only practicable road from Vera Cruz to Mexico passed this way; and Jalapa was the entrepôt where the merchants had their warehouses, and from whence the trains of mules distributed the European merchandise from the coast to the different markets of the country. By this arrangement, the carrying from the coast was done by a small number of muleteers, who were seasoned to the climate, while the great mass of traders and carriers were not obliged to descend from the healthy region. This was of the more importance, because, though the pure Indians are not liable to the attacks of yellow fever, the disease is as deadly to the other inhabitants of the high lands as to Europeans; and even those of the _mestizos_ who have the least admixture of white blood are subject to it. Of late years, this system has been given up, and the carriers from the high lands go down to the coast to fetch their loads, and every year they leave some of their number in the church-yards of the City of the Dead; while many others, though they recover from the fever, never regain their former health and strength. The high-road to Mexico now goes by Orizaba, so that the importance of Jalapa as a trading-place has almost ceased.

Our Mexican journey was now all but finished, and I left my companion here, and took the Diligence to Vera Cruz, to meet the West India Mail-packet. Mr. Christy followed a day or two later, and went to the United States. We dismissed our two servants, Martin and Antonio. Martin invested his wages in a package of tobacco, which he proposed to carry home on his horse, travelling by night along unfrequented mountain-paths, where custom-house officers seldom penetrate. We never heard any more of him; but no doubt he got safe home, for he was perfectly competent to take care of himself, and he probably made a very good thing of his journey. It was quite with regret that we parted from him, for he was a most sensible, useful fellow, with a continual flow of high spirits, and no end of stories of his experiences in smuggling, and hunting wild cattle in the _tierra caliente_, in which two adventurous occupations most of his life had been passed. In his dealings with us, he was honesty itself, notwithstanding his equivocal profession.

We offered Antonio a cheque on Mexico for his wages, as he was going back there, but he said he would rather have hard dollars. We paid his fare to Mexico by the Diligence, and gave him his money, telling him at the same time, that he was a fool for his pains. He started next morning; and we heard, a month or two later, that the coach was stopped the same afternoon in the plains of Perote, and Antonio was robbed not only of his money but even of his jacket and serape, and reached Mexico penniless and half-naked. He was always a silly fellow, and his last exploit was worthy of him.

Mr. Christy sat up till daybreak to see me off, filling up his time by writing letters and pressing plants. When I was gone, he lay down in his bed, in rather a dreamy state of mind, looking up at the ceiling. There was a large beam just above his head, and at one side of it a hole, which struck him as being a suitable place for a scorpion to come out of. This idea had come into his head from the sight of the specimen in the tumbler on the table, who had with great difficulty been drowned in _aguardiente_. Presently something moved in the hole, and the spectator below instantly became wide awake. Then came out a claw and a head, and finally the body and tail of a very fine scorpion, two inches and a half long. It was rather an awkward moment, for it was not safe to move suddenly, for fear of startling the creature, whose footing seemed anything but secure; and if he fell, he would naturally sting whatever he might come in contact with. However, he met with no accident on his way, and getting into another hole, about a yard off, he drew up his tail after him and disappeared. Mr. Christy slipped out of his bed with a sense of considerable relief; and having ascertained that there were no holes in the ceiling above the bed on the other side of the room, he turned in there, and went comfortably to sleep.

My only companion in the Diligence was a German shopman from Vera Cruz, who was sociable, but not of an instructive turn of conversation. When we had descended for a few hours, the heat became intolerable. Scarcely any habitation but a few Indian cane-huts by the way-side, with bananas and palm-trees. We stopped, about three in the afternoon, at a _rancho_ in a small village, and did not start again until next morning, a little before day-break. Negroes and people of negro descent began to abound in this congenial climate. I remember especially the waiting-maid at the _rancho_, who was a “white negress,” as they are called. Her hair and features showed her African origin; but her hair was like white wool, and her face and hands were as colourless as those of a dead body. This animated corpse was healthy enough, however; and this peculiarity of the skin is, it seems, not very uncommon.

The coast-regions through which I was passing abound in horned cattle, but they are mostly far away from the high-roads. In spite of the intense heat of the climate they thrive as well as in the higher lands. Some are tolerably tame, and are kept within bounds by the _vaqueros_; but the greater proportion, numbering tens of thousands, roam wild about the country. In comparison with these cattle of the _tierra caliente_, the fiercest beasts of the plateaus are safe and quiet creatures. The only way of bringing them into the _corral_ is by using tame animals for decoys, just as wild elephants are caught.

Our man Martin, who had once been a _vaquero_ on the Vera Cruz coast, used to look upon the bulls of the high lands with great contempt. If you chase them they run away, he said. If you lazo a bull of the hot country, you have to gallop off with all your might, with the _toro_ close at your heels; and, if the horse falls, it may cost his life or his rider’s.

We thus find the horned cattle flourishing at every elevation, from the sea-level to the mountain-pastures ten thousand feet above it. Horses and sheep show less adaptability to this variety of climates. The horses and mules come mostly from the States of the North, at a level of from 5,000 to 8,000 feet; that remarkable country of which Humboldt’s observation gives us the best idea, when he says that, although there are no made roads, wheel-carriages can travel distances of a thousand miles over gently-undulating prairies, without meeting any obstruction on the way.

Numbers of sheep are reared in the mountains, principally for the sake of the tallow, for the consumption of tallow-candles in the mines is enormous. The owners scarcely care at all for the rest of the animal; and popular scandal accuses the sheep-farmers of driving their flocks straight into the melting-coppers, without going through the preliminary ceremony of killing them. People told us that the tallow made in the cold regions loses its consistency when brought down into hotter climates, but we had no means of ascertaining the truth of this.

Artificial lighting by means of tallow was not known to the ancient Mexicans, who could not indeed have procured tallow except from the fat of deer and smaller animals.

Bernal Diaz tells how the Spanish invaders used to dress their wounds with “Indian Ointment.” He explains the nature of this preparation in another place. The Spaniards could get no oil in the country, nor anything else to make salve with, so they took some fat Indian who had just been killed in battle, and simply boiled him down.

Our ride next morning was but a few hours, the journey being so divided in order that the passengers may reach Vera Cruz before the heat of the day begins. We passed over a dreary district, generally too dry for anything but cactus and acacias, but now and then, when a little water was to be found, displaying clumps of bamboos with their elegant feathery tufts. Then the railway took us through the dismal downs, with their swamps and sand-hills, and so into Vera Cruz.

The English merchants we had already made acquaintance with were as kind and hospitable as ever, and I found an Englishman, whom we had known before, going as far as Havana by the same packet. The yellow fever was unusually late this year, and, though June had begun, there were but few cases. We heard afterwards that it set in a week or two after our departure, and by its extraordinary severity made ample amends for the lateness of its arrival.

After sunset, the air was alive with mosquitos, and the floors of the hotel swarmed with cockroaches. The armadillo took quite naturally to the latter creatures, and crunched them up as fast as we could catch them for him. I was surprised to find that our word “cockroaches” does not come from the German stock, like most of our names for insects and small creatures, but from the Latin side of the house. The Spanish waiter called them _cucarachas_, and the French ones _coqueraches_. The history of the armadillo ends unfortunately: for some days he seemed to take quite kindly to the diet of bits of meat which we had to put him on, on shipboard, but he fell sick at Havana, and died.

My late companion travelled up into the Northern States, went to the Indian assembly at Manitoulin Island, paid a visit to various tribes of Red Men in the Hudson’s Bay Territory—as yet unmissionized, carried away in triumph the big medicine-drum I have already spoken of, and saw and did many other things not to be related here. One sight that he saw, some months later, reminded him of the wild country where we had travelled together. He was in Iowa City, a little town of a year or two’s growth, out in the prairie States of the Far West. As he stood one morning in the outskirts, among the plank-houses and half-made roads, there came a solitary horseman riding in. Evidently he had come from the Mexican frontier, a thousand miles and more away across the plains; and no doubt, his waggons and the rest of his party were behind him on the road, beyond the distant horizon of the prairie. By his face he was American, but his costume was the dress of old Mexico, the leather jacket and trousers, the broad white hat and huge jingling spurs. His lazo hung in front of his high-peaked saddle, and his well-worn serape was rolled up behind him like a trooper’s cloak. As he approached the town, he spurred his jaded beast, who broke into the old familiar _paso_ of the Mexican plains. “It was my last sight of Mexico,” said my companion. He saluted the horseman in Spanish, and the well-known words of welcome made the grim man’s haggard sunburnt features relax into a smile as he returned the salutation and rode on.

As for myself, my voyage home was short and unadventurous. From Vera Cruz to Havana, most of my companions were Mexican refugees who had been turned out of the country for being mixed up with Haro’s revolution or Santa Ana’s intrigues. They were showily got-up men, elaborately polite, and with much to say for themselves; but every now and then some casual remark showed what stuff they were made of, and I pitied more than ever the unfortunate countries whose political destinies depend on the intrigues of these adventurers.

In the hot land-locked bay of St. Thomas’s we, with the contents of eight or nine more steamers, were shifted into the great steamer bound homeward. I went ashore with an old German gentleman, and walked about the streets. St. Thomas’s is a Danish island, and a free port, that is, a smuggling depôt for the rest of the West India islands, much as Gibraltar is for the Mediterranean. It is a stifling place, full of mosquitos and yellow fever, and the confusion of tongues reigns there even more than in Gibraltar, for the blacks in the streets all speak three or four languages, and the shopkeepers six or seven.

We were a strange mixture on board the ‘Atrato’, over two hundred of us. Peruvians and Chilians from across the isthmus, Spaniards and Cubans, black gentlemen from Hayti, French colonists from Martinique, but English preponderating above all other nationalities. One or two governors of small islands, with their families, maintaining the dignity of Government House, at least as far as Southampton, and unapproachable by common mortals. Army men from West India stations, who appeared to spend their mornings in ordering the wine for dinner, and their evenings in abusing it when they had drunk it. West India planters, who thought it was rather hard that the Anti-slavery Society, after ruining them and their plantations, should moreover insist on their believing themselves to be great gainers by the change. We were all crowded, hot, and uncomfortable, and showed our worst side, but as we neared England better influences got the ascendant again.

It was pleasant to breathe a cooler air, and to feel that I was getting back to my own country and my own people; but with this feeling there was mixed some regret for the beautiful scenes I had left. The evenings of our latitudes seemed poor when we lost the gorgeous sunsets of the tropics, and the sea alive with luminous creatures. When I came on deck one evening and missed the brightest ornament of the sky—the Southern Cross, I felt that I had left the tropics, and that all my efforts to realize the life of the last half-year would produce but a vague and shadowy picture.

Since we left Mexico, I have not cared to follow very accurately even the newspaper intelligence of what has been and still is going on there. It is a pitiable history. Continual wars and revolutions, utter insecurity of life and property, the Indians burning down the haciendas in the South and turning out the white people, the roads on the plains impassable on account of deserters and robbers; sometimes no practical government at all, then two or three at once, who raise armies and fight a little sometimes, but generally confine themselves to plundering the peaceable inhabitants. An army besieges the capital for months, but appears to do nothing but cut the water off from the aqueducts, shoot stragglers, and levy contributions. One leader raises a forced loan among the foreign residents, and imprisons or expels those who do not submit. The leader on the other side does the same in his part of the country, putting the British merchant in prisons where a fortnight would be a fair average life for an European, and threatening him with summary courtmartial and execution if he does not pay.

London newspapers dwell on these details, and tell us that we may learn from the condition of this unfortunate country how useless are democratic forms among a people incapable of liberty, and that very weak governments can commit all sorts of crimes with impunity, from the fact that they have no official existence which foreign powers can recognize; and various other weighty moral lessons, which must be highly edifying to our countrymen in the Republic, who are meanwhile left pretty much to shift for themselves.

All this time the United States are steadily advancing; and the destiny of the country is gradually accomplishing itself. That its total absorption must come, sooner or later, we can hardly doubt. The chief difficulty seems to be that the American constitution will not exactly suit the case. The Republic laid down the right of each citizen to his share in the government of the country as a universal law, founded on indefeasible lights of humanity, fundamental laws of nature, and what not, making, it is true, some slight exceptions with regard to red and black men. The Mexicans, or at least the white and half-caste Mexicans, will be a difficulty. Their claims to citizenship are unquestionable, if Mexico were made a State of the Union; and, as everybody knows, they are totally incapable of governing themselves, which they must be left to do under the constitutional system of the United States; moreover, it is certain that American citizens would never allow even the whitest of the Mexicans to be placed on a footing of equality with themselves. Supposing these difficulties got over by a Protectorate, an armed occupation, or some similar contrivance, Mexico will undergo a great change. There will be roads and even rail-roads, some security for life and property, liberty of opinion, a nourishing commerce, a rapidly increasing population, and a variety of good things. Every intelligent Mexican must wish for an event so greatly to the advantage of his country and of the world in general.

Some of our good friends in Mexico have bought land on the American frontier by the hundred square leagues, and can point out patches upon the map of the world as large as Scotland or Ireland—as their private property. What their gains will be when enterprising western men begin to bring the country under cultivation, it is not an easy matter to realize.

As for ourselves individually, we may be excused for cherishing a lurking kindness for the quaint, picturesque manners and customs of Mexico, as yet un-Americanized; and for rejoicing that it was our fortune to travel there before the coming change, when its most curious peculiarities and its very language must yield before foreign influences.

APPENDIX.

I. THE MANUFACTURE OF OBSIDIAN KNIVES, ETC. (_Note to p. 97._)

Some of the old Spanish writers on Mexico give a tolerably full account of the manner in which the obsidian knives, &c., were made by the Aztecs. It will be seen that it only modifies in one particular the theory we had formed by mere inspection as to the way in which these objects were made, which is given at p.97; that is, they were cracked off by pressure, and not, as we conjectured, by a blow of some hard substance.

Torquemada (_Monarquía Indiana, Seville_, 1615) says; (free translation)

“They had, and still have, workmen who make knives of a certain black stone or flint, which it is a most wonderful and admirable thing to see them make out of the stone; and the ingenuity which invented this art is much to be praised. They are made and got out of the stone (if one can explain it) in this manner. One of these Indian workmen sits down upon the ground, and takes a piece of this black stone, which is like jet, and hard as flint, and is a stone which might be called precious, more beautiful and brilliant than alabaster or jasper, so much so that of it are made tablets[25] and mirrors. The piece they take is about 8 inches long or rather more, and as thick as one’s leg or rather less, and cylindrical; they have a stick as large as the shaft of a lance, and 3 cubits or rather more in length; and at the end of it they fasten firmly another piece of wood, 8 inches long, to give more weight to this part; then, pressing their naked feet together, they hold the stone as with a pair of pincers or the vice of a carpenter’s bench. They take the stick (which is cut off smooth at the end) with both hands, and set it well home against the edge of the front of the stone (_y ponenlo avesar con el canto de la frente de la piedra_) which also is cut smooth in that part; and then they press it against their breast, and with the force of the pressure there flies off a knife, with its point, and edge on each tide, as neatly as if one were to make them of a turnip with a sharp knife, or of iron in the fire. Then they sharpen it on a stone, using a hone to give it a very fine edge; and in a very short time these workmen will make more than twenty knives in the aforesaid manner. They come out of the same shape as our barbers’ lancets, except that they have a rib up the middle, and have a slight graceful curve towards the point. They will cut and shave the hair the first time they are used, at the first cut nearly as well as a steel razor, but they lose their edge at the second cut; and so, to finish shaving one’s beard or hair, one after another has to be used; though indeed they are cheap, and spoiling them is of no consequence. Many Spaniards, both regular and secular clergy, have been shaved with them, especially at the beginning of the colonization of these realms, when there was no such abundance as now of the necessary instruments, and people who gain their livelihood by practising this occupation. But I conclude by saying that it is an admirable thing to see them made, and no small argument for the capacity of the men who found out such an invention.”

[25] In the original, _aras_. In the Latin of Hernandez, _arae_ I suppose to be the little polished stone slabs which are set on the altars in Roman Catholic churches, and in which their sacred quality is, so to speak, contained.

Vetancurt (_Teatro Mejicano_) gives an account, taken from the above. Hernandez (_Rerum Med. Nov. Hisp. Thes.: Rome_, 1631) gives a similar account of the process. He compares the wooden instrument used to a cross-bow. It was evidently a T-shaped implement, and the workman held the cross-piece with his two hands against his breast, while the end of the straight stick rested on the stone. He furthermore gives a description of the making of the well-known _maquahuitl_, or Aztec war-club, which was armed on both sides with a row of obsidian knives, or teeth, stuck into holes with a kind of gum. With this instrument, he says, a man could be cut in half at a blow—an absurd statement, which has been repeated by more modern writers.

II. ON THE SOLAR ECLIPSES RECORDED IN THE LE TELLIER MS.

The curious Aztec Picture-writing, known as the _Codex Telleriano-Remenensis_, preserved in the Royal Library of Paris, contains a list or calendar of a long series of years, indicated by the ordinary signs of the Aztec system of notation of cycles of years. Below the signs of the years are a number of hieroglyphic pictures, conveying the record of remarkable events which happened in them, such as the succession and death of kings, the dates of wars, pestilences, &c. The great work of Lord Kingsborough, which contains a fac-simile of this curious document, reproduces also an ancient interpretation of the matters contained in it, evidently the work of a person who not only understood the interpretation of the Aztec picture-writings, but had access to some independent source of information,—probably the more ample oral traditions, for the recalling of which the picture-writing appears only to have served as a sort of artificial memory. It is not necessary to enter here into a fuller description of the MS., which has also been described by Humboldt and Gallatin.

Among the events recorded in the Codex are four eclipses of the sun, depicted as having happened in the years 1476, 1496, 1507. 1510. Humboldt, in quoting these dates, makes a remark to the effect that the record tends to prove the veracity of the Aztec history, for solar eclipses really happened in those years, according to the list in the well-known chronological work, _L’Art de Vérifier les Dates_, as follows: 28 Feb., 1476; 8 Aug., 1496; 13 Jan., 1507; 8 May, 1510. The work quoted, however, has only reference to eclipses visible in Europe, Asia, and Africa, and not to those in America. The question therefore arises, whether all these four eclipses recorded in _L’Art de Vérifier les Dates_, were visible in Mexico. As to the last three, I have no means of answering the question; but it appears that Gama, a Mexican astronomer of some standing, made a series of calculations for a totally distinct purpose about the end of the last century, and found that in 1476 _there was no eclipse of the sun visible in Mexico_, but that there was a great one on the 13th Feb., 1477, and another on the 28th May, 1481.

Supposing that Gama made no mistake in his calculations, the idea at once suggests itself, that the person who compiled or copied the Le Tellier Codex, some few years after the Spanish Conquest of Mexico, inserted under the date of 1476 (long before the time of the Spaniards) an eclipse which could not have been recorded there had the document been a genuine Aztec Calendar; _as, though visible in Europe, it was not visible in Mexico_. The supposition of the compiler having merely inserted this date from a European table of eclipses is strengthened by the fact that _the great eclipse of 1477, which was visible in Mexico, but not in Europe, is not to be found there_. These two facts tend to prove that the Codex, though undoubtedly in great part a copy or compilation from genuine native materials, has been deliberately sophisticated with a view of giving it a greater appearance of historical accuracy, by some person who was not quite clever enough to do his work properly. It may, however, be urged as a proof that the mistake is merely the result of carelessness, that we find in the MS. no notice of the eclipse of 25th May, 1481, which was visible both in Mexico and in Europe, and so ought to have been in the record. This supposition would be consistent with the Codex being really a document in which the part relating to the events before the Spanish Conquest in 1521 is of genuine ancient and native origin, though the whole is compiled in a very grossly careless manner. It would be very desirable to verify the years of all the four eclipses with reference to their being visible in Mexico, as this might probably clear up the difficulty.

III. TABLE OK AZTEC ROOTS COMPARED WITH SANSCRIT, ETC.

Several lists of Aztec words compared with those of various Indo-European languages have been given by philologists. The present is larger than any I have met with; several words in it are taken from Buschmann’s work on the Mexican languages. It is desirable in a philological point of view that comparative lists of words of this kind should be made, even when, as in the present instance, they are not of sufficient extent to found any theory upon.

As the Aztec alphabet does not contain nearly all the Sanscrit consonants, many of them must be compared with the nearest Aztec sounds, as:

SANSCRIT, t, th, d, dh, &c. AZTEC, t. SANSCRIT, k, kh, g, gh, &c. AZTEC c. q. SANSCRIT, l, r. AZTEC, l. SANSCRIT, b, bh, v. AZTEC, v. or u.

The Aztec c is soft (as s) before e and i, hard (as k) before a, o, u. The Aztec ch as in _cheese_. I have followed Molina’s orthography in writing such words as _uel_ or _vel_ (English, _well_) instead of the more modern, but I think less correct way, _huel_.

1. a-, _negative prefix_ (_as_ qualli, _good_; aqualli, _bad_). SANS., a-; GREEK, a-, &c.

2. o-, _preterite augment_ (_as_ nitemachtia, _I teach_; onitemachti, _I taught_); SANS., a-; compare GREEK ε-.

3. pal, _prep. by_: compare SANS. _prep._, para, _back_; pari, _circum_; pra, _before_; GREEK, παρα; LAT., per.

4. ce-, cen-, cem-, _prefix collective_ (_as_ tlalla, _to place_, centlalla, _to collect_); SANS., sa-, san-, sam-; GREEK, συν; LAT., syn.

5. ce, cen-, cem-, _one_. SANS., sa (_in_ sa-krit, _once_: comp. Bopp, Gloss., p. 362.) LAT., se-_mel_, si-_mul_, sim-_plex_.

6. metz (metz-tli), _moon_. SANS., mas.

7. tlal (tlal-li), _earth_. SANS., tala, dhara. LAT., terra, tellus.

8. citlal (citlal-in), _star_. SANS., stri, stâra. LAT., stella. Eng., star.

9. atoya (atoya-tl), _river_. SANS., udya.

10. teuh (teuh-tli), _dust_. Sans., dhû-li (_from_ dhû, to drive about.)

11. teo (teo-tl), _god_. Sans., deva. Greek, θεος. Lat., deus.

12. qual (qual-li), _good_. Sans., kalya, kalyâna. Greek, καλος.

13. uel, _well_. Sans., vara, _excellent_; vli, _to choose_. Lat., velle. Icel., vel. Eng., well.

14. uel, _power, brave, &c_., (uel-e, tla-uel-e.) Sans., bala, _strength_. Lat., valeo, valor.

15. auil, _vicious, wasteful_. Sans., âvila, _sinful, guilty;_ abala, _weak_. Eng., evil.

16. miec, _much_. Sans., mahat, _great_; manh _or_ mah, _to grow_. Icel., miok, _much_. Eng., much.

17. vey, _great_. Sans., bahu, _much_.

18. -pol, _augmentative affix_ (as tepe-tl. _mountain_; tepepol, _great mountain_.) Sans., puru, _much_; pula, _great, ample_. Greek, πολυς.

19. naua (naua-c), _near, by the side of_. Sans., nah, _to join or connect_. German, nah, _near_.

20. ten (ten-qui), _fuil_. Sans., tûn, _to fill_.

21. izta (izta-c), _white_. Sans., sita.

22. cuz (cuz-tic), _red_. Sans, kashãya, kasãya.

23. ta (ta-tli), _father_. Sans., tãta.

24. cone (cone-tl), _child. Compare_ Sans., jan, _to beget_. Lat., gen-itus. German, kin-d. Eng., kin.

25. pil (pil-li), _child. Compare_ Sans., bâla, _boy, child_; bhri, _to bear children_, &c. Greek, πωλος, _foal_. Lat., pullus, filius. Eng., _foal_, &c., &c.

26. cax (cax-itl), _cup_. Sans., chasbaka.

27. paz(?)(a-paz-tli), _vase, basin_. Sans., bajana. _Compare_ Lat., vas. Eng., vase.

28. com (com-itl), _earthen pot_. Sans., kumbha.

29. xuma (xuma-tli), _spoon_. Sans., chamasa; _from_ Sans., cham, _to eat_.

30. mich (mich-in), _fish_. Sans., machcha.

31. zaca (zaca-tl), _grass_. Sans., sâka.

32. col (te-col-li, col-ceuia, &c.), _charcoal_. Sans., jval, _to burn, flame_; Icel., kol; Eng., coal; Irish, gual.

33. cen (cen-tli), _grain, maize_. Sans., kana, _grain_.

34. ehe (ehe-catl), _wind_. Sans., vâyu.

35. mix (mix-tli), _cloud_. Sans., megha; Icel., and Eng., mist.

36. cal (cal-ii), _house_. Sans., sâlâ. Greek, καλια; Lat., cella.

37. qua (qua-itl), _head_. Sans., ka.

38. ix (ix-tli), _eye, face_. Sans., aksha, _eye_; âsya, _face_.

39. can (can-tli), _cheek_, Sans., ganda; Lat., gena.

40. chichi (chichi-tl), _teat_. Sans., chuchuka.

41. nene (nene-tl), _pupil of eye_. Sans., nayanâ.

42. choloa, _to run or leap_. Sans., char.

43. caqui (caqui-ztli), _sound_. Sans., kach, _to sound_.

44. xin (xi-xin-ia), _to cut, ruin, destroy_. Sans., ksin, _to hurt, kill._

45. tlacç (tlacç-ani), _to run_. Sans., triks, _to go_; Greek, τρεχω.

46. patlani, _to fly_. Sans., pat.

47. mati, _to know_. Sans., medh, _to understand_; mati, _thought, mind_; Greek root μαθ.

48. it (it-ta), _to see_. Sans., vid; Greek root ιδ, ειδομαι, &c.; Lat., video.

49. meya, _to flow, trickle_. Sans., mih.

50. mic (mic-tia), _to kill_. Sans., mi, mith.

51. cuica, _to sing_. Sans., kûj. _to sing, as birds_, &c.

52. chichi _to suck_. SANS., chûsh.

53. ahnachia, _to sprinkle_: _compare_ SANS. uks.

54. coton (coton-a), _to cut_. SANS. kutt.

55. nex (nex-tia), _to shine_. SANS, nad; LAT., niteo.

55. notz (notz-a), _to call_. SANS., nad.

57. choc (choc-a), _to lament, cry_. SANS, kuch, _to cry aloud, scream;_ such, _to wail_.

58. me(?)(in me-catl, _binding-thing, chain?) to bind_ SANS., mû, mava.

59. qua, _to eat, bite_: compare SANS. charv, _to chew, bite, gnaw_; chah, _to bruize_; khad, _to eat_.; GERMAN, kauen; ENG., to chew.

60. te, _thou_. SANS. tvam; LAT., tu.

61. quen, _how?_ SANS. kena.

_Other curious resemblances between the Aztec and European languages are_:

62. pepeyol, _poplar_. LAT., populus; ICEL., popel.

63. papal (papal-otl), _butterfly_; LAT., papilio.

64. ul (ul-li), _juice of the India-rubber tree, used as oil for anointing, &c._ LAT., oleum; ENG., oil, &c.

IV. GLOSSARY.

ANAHUAC. _Aztec_. “By the water-side.” The name at first applied to the Valley of Mexico, from the situation of the towns on the banks of the lakes; afterwards used to denote a great part of the present Republic of Mexico.

ACOCOTE (_Aztec_, acocotl, water-throat), aloe-sucker’s gourd; _see p._ 91.

ADOBE, a mud-brick, baked in the sun. (Perhaps a _Moorish-Spanish_ word. _Ancient Egyptian_, tobe, a mud-brick; _Arabic_, toob, pronounced with the article _at-toob_, whence adobe?)

AGUAMIEL (honey-water), unfermented aloe-juice.

AGUARDIENTE (burning-water), ardent spirits.

AHUEHUETE (_Aztec_, ahuehuetl), the deciduous cypress.

ALAMEDA (poplar-avenue), public promenade; _see p._ 57.

ALCALDE, a magistrate (_Moorish-Spanish_, al cadi, “the cadi”).

ANQUERA (hauncher), covering for horses’ haunches; _see p._ 164 (_and cut, p._ 260).

ARRIERO, a muleteer.

ARROYO, a rivulet, mountain-torrent.

ATAMBOB, a drum.

ATOLE (_Aztec_, atolli), porridge.

AVERSADA, a freshet.

BARATILLO, a Rag-fair, market of odds and ends; _see p._ 169.

BARBACOA, whence English “barbecue;” _see p._ 95; a native Haitian word.

BARRANCCA, a ravine.

CALZONCILLOS, drawers.

CAPA, a cloak.

CAYO, a coral-reef.

CHAPARREROS, over-trousers of goatskin with the hair on, used in riding.

CHINAMPA (_Aztec_, “a place fenced in),” a Mexican “floating garden;” _see p._ 62.

CHINGUERITO, Indian-corn brandy.

CHIPI-CHIPI (_Aztec_, chipini, drizzling rain); _see p._ 26.

CHUPA-MIRTO (myrtle-sucker), a humming-bird.

COLEAR, to throw a bull over by the tail (cola); _see p._ 71.

COMPADRE. COMADRE; _French_, compère, commère; _see p._ 250.

CORRAL, an enclosure for cattle.

COSTAL, a bag, or sack.

COYOTE (_Aztec_, coyotl), a jackal.

CUARTA, a leather horse-whip; _see_ p. 264.

CUARTEL, a barrack.

CUCARACHA, a cockroach.

CUCHILLO, a knife.

CURA, a parish-priest.

DESAGUE, a draining-cut.

DESAYUNO, breakfast.

EMANCIPADO (emancipated negro); see p. 6.

ESCOPETA, a musket.

ESCRIBANO, a scribe or secretary.

FANDANGO, a dance.

FIESTA, a church-festival.

FRIJOLES, beans.

FUERO, a legal privilege; _see pp._ 19, 249.

GACHUPIN, a native of Spain. Supposed to be an Aztec epithet, _cac-chopina_, that is, “prickly shoes,” applied to the Spanish conquerors from their wearing spurs, which to the Indians were strange and incomprehensible appendages.

GARROTE, an instrument for strangling criminals.

GENTE DE RAZÓN (reasonable people), white men and half-breed Mexicans, but not Indians;_ see p._ 61.

GUAJALOTE (Aztec, huexolotl), a turkey: _see p._ 228.

GULCHE, a ravine.

HACENDADO, a planter, landed proprietor, from HACIENDA (literally “doing,” from _hacer_, or _facer_, to do). An estate, establishment, &c.

HACIENDA DE BENEFICIO, an establishment for “benefiting” silver, i.e., for extracting it from the ore.

HONDA, a sling.

HORNITOS (little ovens), the small cones near the volcano of Jorullo, which formerly emitted steam; see p. 92.

HULE (_Aztec, _ ulli. India-rubber?) a waterproof coat.

ICHTL (_Aztec, _ thread), thread or string of aloe-fibre.

ITZTLI (Aztec), obsidian; _see_ p. 100.

LAZADOR, one who throws the lazo.

LAZO. a running noose.

LEPERO, lazzarone, or prolétaire; _see p._ 251.

LLANOS, plains.

MACHETE, a kind of bill-hook.

MALACATE (_Aztec, _ malacatl), a spindle, spindle-head, windlass, &c.

MANTA, cotton-cloth.

MATRACA, a rattle; _see p._ 49.

MESON, a Mexican caravansery; _see p._ 209.

MESTIZO (mixtus) a Mexican of mixed Spanish and Aztec blood.

METATE (_Aztec_, metlatl) the stone used for rubbing down Indian corn into paste; see p. 88.

METALPILE (_Aztec_, metlapilli, i.e. little metlatl), the stone rolling-pin used in the same process.

MOLE (_Aztec, _ mulli), Mexican stew.

MOLINO DE VIENTO (literally a windmill), a whirlwind; _see p._ 31.

MONTE (literally a mountain), the favourite Mexican game; _see p. _256.

MOZO, a lad, servant, groom.

NIÑO, a child.

NOPAL (_Aztec_, nopalli), the prickly pear.

NOETE, the north wind; see p. 21.

OCOTE (_Aztec_, ocotl), a pine-tree, pine-torch. OLLA, a boiling-pot.

PASADIZO, a passage; _see p._ 231.

PASEO, a public promenade.

PASO, a kind of amble; _see p._ 163.

PATIO, a court-yard, especially the inner court of a house.

PATIO-PROCESS, method of extracting the silver from the ore, so called from its being carried on in paved yards; _see p. _92.

PATRON, a master, landlord.

PEDRIGAL, a lava-field.

PEOS, a debt-slave; _see_ p. 291.

PETATE (_Aztec_, petlatl), a palm-leaf mat.

PITO, 1, a whistle, pipe; 2, aloe-fibre thread.

POTRERO, a water-meadow.

PULQUE, a drink made from the juice of the aloe; _see_ p. 38. (It is a corruption of a native South American word, introduced into Mexico by the Spaniards).

RANCHERO, a cottager, yeoman.

RANCHO, a hut.

RAYA (literally a line), the paying of workmen at a hacienda, &c.

RAYAR, to pull a horse up short at a line; _see_ p. 163.

REATA, a horse-rope; _see_ p. 264.

REBOZO, a woman’s shawl; _see_ p. 56.

RECUA, a train of mules.

SALA, a hall, dining-room.

SERAPE, a Mexican blanket; _see_ p. 169.

SOMBRERO, a hat.

TACUMENILES, pine-shingles for roofing.

TEMAZCALLI, Indian vapour-bath; _see_ p. 301.

TEOCALLI (_Aztec_, god’s house), an Aztec pyramid-temple.

TEFONAZTLI, Indian wooden drum.

TEQUESQUITE (_Aztec_, tequesquiti), an alkaline efflorescence abundant on the soil in Mexico, used for soap-making, &c.

TETZONTLI, porous amygdaloid lava, a stone much used for building in Mexico.

TIENDA, a shop; _see_ p. 82.

TIERRA CALIENTE, the hot region.

TIERRA FRÍA, the cold region.

TIERRA TEMPLADA. the temperate region.

TLACHIQUEBO (_Aztec_, tlacbiqui, an overseer, from tlachia, to see), a labourer in an aloe-field, who draws the juice for pulque; _see_ p. 36.

TORO, a bull.

TORTA (literally, a cake); _see_ p. 92.

TORTILLAS, thin cakes made of Indian corn, resembling oat-cakes; _see_ p. 33.

TRAPICHE, a sugar-mill.

ULEI, _see_ Hule.

VAQUERO, cow-herd.

ZOPILOTE (_Aztec_, zopilotl), a turkey-buzzard.

V. DESCRIPTION OF THREE VERY RARE SPECIMENS OF ANCIENT MEXICAN MOSAIC-WORK (IN THE COLLECTION OF HENRY CHRISTY, ESQ.).

These Specimens, two Masks and a Knife, (_see_ _page_ 101.) are interesting as presenting examples of higher art than has been supposed to have been attained to by the ancient Mexicans, or any other of the native American peoples. Their distinctive feature is an incrustation of Mosaic of Turquoise, cut and polished, and fitted with extreme nicety,—a work of great labour, time, and cost in any country, and especially so amongst a people to whom the use of iron was unknown,—and carried out with a perfection which suggests the idea that the art must have been long practised under the fostering of wealth and power, although so few examples of it have come down to us.

Although considerably varied, they are all three of one family of work, so to speak; the predominant feature being the use of turquoise; and the question which presents itself at the outset is—what are the evidences that this unique work is of Aztec origin?

The proofs are so interwoven with the style and structure of the specimens that their appearance and nationality are best treated of together.

The Mask of wood is covered with minute pieces of turquoise—cut and polished, accurately fitted, many thousands in number, and set on a dark gum or cement. The eyes, however, are acute-oval patches of mother-of-pearl; and there are two small square patches of the same on the temples, through which a string passed to suspend the mask; and the teeth are of hard white shell. The eyes are perforated, and so are the nostrils, and the upper and lower teeth are separated by a transverse chink; thus a wearer of the mask (which sits easily on one’s face) can see, breathe, and speak with ease. The features bear that remarkably placid and contemplative expression which distinguishes so many of the Aztec works, in common with those of the Egyptians, whether in their massive stone sculptures, or in the smallest and commonest heads of baked earth. The face, which is well-proportioned, pleasing, and of great symmetry, is studded also with numerous projecting pieces of turquoise, rounded and polished.

In addition to the character of the work and the style of face, the evidence of the Aztec origin of this mask is confirmed by the wood being of the fragrant cedar or cypress of Mexico. It may be remarked also that the inside is painted red, as are the wooden masks of the Indians of the North-west coast of America at the present day.

The Knife presents, both in form and substance, more direct evidence of its Aztec origin; for, in addition to its incrustation with the unique mosaic of turquoise, blended (in this case) with malachite and white and red shell, its handle is sculptured in the form of a crouching human figure, covered with the skin of an eagle, and presenting the well-known and distinctive Aztec type of the human head issuing from the mouth of an animal. (_See cut_, p. 101.) Beyond this there is in the stone blade the curious fact of a people which had attained to so complex a design and such an elaborate ornamentation remaining in the Stone-age; and, somewhat curiously, the locality of that stone blade is fixed, by its being of that semi-transparent opalescent calcedony which Humboldt describes as occurring in the volcanic districts of Mexico—the concretionary silex of the trachytic lavas.

The second Mask is yet more distinctive. The incrustation of turquoise-mosaic is placed on the forehead, face, and jaws of a human skull, the back part of which has been cut away to allow of its being hung, by the leather thongs which still remain, over the face of an idol, as was the custom in Mexico thus to mask their gods on state-occasions. The mosaic of turquoise is interrupted by three broad transverse bands, on the forehead, face, and chin, of a mosaic of obsidian, similarly cut (but in larger pieces) and highly polished,—a very unusual treatment of this difficult and intractable material, the use of which in any artistic way appears to have been confined to the Aztecs (with the exception, perhaps, of the Egyptians).

The eye-balls are nodules of iron-pyrites, cut hemispherically and highly polished, and are surrounded by circles of hard white shell, similar to that forming the teeth of the wooden mask.

The Aztecs made their mirrors of iron-pyrites polished, and are the only people who are known to have put this material to ornamental use.

The mixture of art, civilization, and barbarism which the hideous aspect of this green and black skull-mask presents accords with the condition of Mexico at the time of the Conquest, under which human sacrifices on a gigantic scale were coincident with much refinement in arts and manners.

The European history of these three specimens is somewhat curious. With the exception of two in the Museum at Copenhagen, obtained many years ago by Professor Thomsen from a convent in Rome, and, though greatly dilapidated, presenting some traces of the game kind of ornamentation, they are believed to be unique.

The Wooden Mask and the Knife were long known in a collection at Florence. Thirty years ago the mask was brought into England from that city, as Egyptian: and, somewhat later, the knife was obtained from Venice.

Subsequently the Skull-mask, with a wig of hair said to be a scalp, was found at Bruges; a locality which leads to the presumption that the mask was brought from Mexico soon after the Conquest in 1521, and prior to the expulsion of the Spaniards from Flanders consequent on the revolt of the Low Countries in 1579.

_Note_.—It happens singularly enough, that a curious old work, _Aldrorandus, Musaeum Metallicum, Bologna_, 1613, contains drawings of a knife and wooden mask ornamented with mosaic-work of stone, made just in the came way as those described above, and only differing from them in the design. What became of them I cannot tell.

VI. DASENT’S ESSAY ON THE ETHNOGRAPHICAL VALUE OF POPULAR TALES AND LEGENDS.

Whilst treating of legendary lore in connection with Ethnographry, we must not forget to refer the reader to the highly useful and philosophical remarks on this subject in Dasent’s Introduction to his _Popular Tales from the Norse_.[26] Here we see that not only are the popular tales of any nation indicative of its early condition and its later progress, but also that the legends, fables, and tales of the Indo-European nations, at least, bear internal evidence of their having grown out of a few simple notes—of having sprung from primæval germs originating with the old Aryan family, from whom successive migrations carried away the original myth to be elaborated or degraded according to the genius and habits of the people.

[26] _Popular Tales from the Norse_. (Translated from Asbjörnsen and Moe’s Collection.) By George Webbe Dasent, D.C.L. With an Introductory Essay on the Origin and Diffusion of Popular Tales.—_Second Edition, Edinburgh_: 1859.

Thus other means of resolving the relations of the early races of Man are added to those previously afforded by ethnographical and philological research.

INDEX.

Account-keeping, 87.

Acodada, 57.

Africans and Chinese, 13.

Agriculture, 26, 61, 63, 89, 157-161, 172, 216.

Ahuehuetes, 57, 155, 215, 265.

Alameda, 57.

Alluvial Deposits, 150.

Aloes, 35, 136; huts built of, 36.

Aloe-fibre, manufacture of, 88.

Aloe-juice, collected for Pulque, 36, 91.

Amatlan, 299.

Amecameca, 265.

American War, 118-120.

Amozoque, 295.

Anahuac, 57, 270.

Antiquities, collections of, 222-236, 262.

Antonio, our man, 321.

Ants, 8.

Aqueduct of Chapultepec, 55.

Arch, Aztec, 153, 276.

Armadillo, 312, 319, 325.

Arms of Mexico, 42.

Army, Mexican, 114-119.

Arrow-heads, 137.

Art, Aztec, 186, 230, 316.

Astronomy, Aztec, 237-241, 244.

Atotonilco, 82, 85.

Aztec Antiquities, 35, 137, 141-148, 150-156, 183-195, 222-244, 262-264, 274-280.

Aztec Civilization, 103.

Aztec Language, 143, 227, 235, 243, 279, 333.

Bananas, 178.

Baratillo, 169-171.

Barometer, height of, 68.

Barrancas, 89, 179, 310, 313.

Barricades, 55.

Batabano, 3.

Baths of Santa Fé, 7.

Bells, ancient, 235.

Bits, 167.

Books, 124.

Bronze-age, 139.

Bronze, stone-cutting with, 138-140; hatchets, 225; bells and needles, 235.

Bull-fights, 70.

Bull-dogs in Mexico, 149.

Bull, lazoing the, 253, 323.

Cacahuamilpán, 200-205.

Cacao-beans, 227.

Cactuses, 73, 90, 140, 144.

Calendar-stone of Mexico, 237-240.

Canals, 58, 130.

Canoes, 60, 129, 132, 134.

Capitalists, 295.

Cascade of Regla, 93.

Castor-oil plant, 9.

Casa Grande, 77, 135.

Cattle, 16, 31, 323.

Cave of Cacahuamilpán, 203-205.

Central American Antiquities, 189-193.

Cerro de Navajas, 95-100.

Chalco, Canal of, 58; Lake, 173;

Chalma, 208-214.

Chapultepec, 55, 57.

Chinampas, 62.

Chinese in Cuba, 12.

Chipi-chipi, 26.

Cholula, 274-278.

Church, the, 113, 213, 285-290.

Church-dances, 211.

Churches in Mexico, 36, 46.

Civil-war, 112, 283, 328.

Cigar-making, 3.

Clergy of Mexico, 7, 79, 287.

Clay figures, 229, 275.

Coach, old-fashioned, 59.

Cochineal-insect, 24.

Cockfighting, 254, 256.

Cockroaches, 325.

Cocoyotla, 196.

Colearing, 71.

Columbus, 4.

Comonfort, President, 19, 112.

Compadrazgo, 250.

Commerce of Mexico, 105.

Convents in Mexico, 46, 287.

Convicts, 22.

Cordova, 25.

Corrida de Toros, 70.

Costumes, 51, 62, 168.

Courier, 167, 310.

Criminals, 245-249.

Cuba, 2.

Cuernavaca, 179.

Cura of New Gerona, 9.

Cypress-trees, 57, 155, 215, 265.

Dancing, 207, 211.

Dasent on Popular Legends, &c., 339.

Debt-slavery, 291.

Diligence, travelling by, 37, 173.

Dishonesty of Mexicans, 80-82.

Dram-drinking, 83.

Dress of the Indians, 61.

Drums, 231.

Earthquakes, 66.

Eclipses observed in Mexico, 333.

Education, 125-128.

Emancipados, 6, 14.

English in Mexico, 73, 318.

Estación de Méjico, 121.

Ethnology, 17, 102-104, 187-195, 241-244, 276-280.

Evaporation, rapid, 75.

Feather-work, 70.

Flies’ eggs, 156.

Floating gardens, 62.

Flooded streets, 65.

Florida, free blacks from, 5, 10-12.

Forests, destruction of by Spaniards, 45.

Fueros, 19.

Future of Mexico, 329.

Gambling, 15, 207, 256-258, 320.

Glass-works, 135.

Glossary, 335.

Goddess of War, 222.

Gold and Silver work, 234.

Gourd-bottles, 171.

Grove of Cypresses, 57.

Guadalupe (Our Lady of), 66, 120-224.

Hams, Toluca, 219.

Havana, 1, 326.

Hedges of Cactus, 73.

Highlands of Mexico, 35.

Hill of Drums, 215.

Holy Week, 47-54.

Horse-bath, 290.

Horses, 163-165, 317.

Hotel d’Yturbide, 39.

Houses, 25, 36, 91, 135, 172; built on piles, 41.

Huamantla, 31.

Huehuetoca, draining-cut of, 45.

Humming-birds, 69.

Indian Baptism, 207.

Indian Ointment, 324.

Indians of Mexico, 47,60-64, 80-88, 173, 182, 197-199, 200-208, 299-309, 314-316.

Indian Soldiers, 23, 120, 122.

Indulgences, 52, 124.

Inquisition, the, 128.

Insects, 319.

Intemperance, 47, 83, 307.

Inundations, 44, 65, 123.

Iron, 102, 140.

Irrigation, 86, 157-161, 179.

Isle of Pines, 4.

Iztaccihnatl, 268.

Jacal, Mount, 95.

Jalapa, 317-321.

Jorullo, 92.

Judas, 50.

Judas’s Bones, 49.

Junta, La, 314.

Justice, Administration of, 246-248, 300.

Lakes in Valley of Mexico, 44-46, 65, 130-134, 173.

Lava-fields, 28, 35, 118.

Law-courts of Mexico, 249.

Lazoing, 71, 252-254, 323.

Legends, 236, 276-279, 340.

Leper Hospital, 251.

Leperos, 251.

Lerma, 219.

Le Tellier MS., on Eclipses, 332.

Loadstone mountain, 102.

Locusts, 298.

Lonja, 66.

Machinery in Mexico, 109.

Magnetic Iron-ore, 102.

Manufacture of Obsidian Knives, 97, 331.

Marble Quarries in the Isle of Pines, 6.

Market, Indian, 85, 89.

Martin, our servant, 273, 321.

Masks, 110, 226, 235, 337.

Matracas, 49.

Mestizos, 48, 61, 300.

Metate, 88.

Mexican Dishes, 51; Ladies, 51; Words, 227, 263.

Mexican Police, 149; War with United States, 118.

Mexico, City of, 41-44, 111; Old, 147; Formation of the country of, 27; Future of, 329; People of, 55; Valley of, 40-46, 270.

Military Statistics, 115.

Miners, 79, 258.

Miraflores, 264.

Minería, or School of Mines, 47.

Mirage, 30.

Mongolian Calendar, 241.

Monks, 205, 209, 213.

Morals of Servitude, 81, 293.

Mosaic work, 101, 110, 235.

Mosquitos, 5, 325.

Mules, Mexican, 175.

Museum of Mexico, 222-237.

Negress, white, 323.

Negros in Mexico, 13, 323.

Nevado de Toluca, 219.

Nopals, Plantations of, 24.

Nopalucán, 296.

Nortes, 21, 23.

Nuestra Señora de Remedies, 121.

Nueva Gerona, 4, 8.

Numerals, Mexican, &c., 107-110.

Obsidian, mines of, 95, 99; knives, &c., 95-102, 137, 229, 331.

Oculan, 215.

Old Mexico, 147; Baths near Tezcuco, 153; Bridge near Tezcuco, 153.

Organ-cactus, 73.

Orizaba, town of, 26; volcano of, 18, 29, 226.

Ornament, common styles of, 185.

Pachuca, 69, 74.

Palma Christi, 9.

Paseo, or Alameda, 57.

Passport-system (Cuba), 3.

Peñón de los Baños, 131.

Peons, 291-294.

People of Mexico, 55.

Picture-writings, 104, 130, 232-234.

Pintos, 309.

Pirates of the Spanish Main, 5.

Ploughing, 172.

Police, Mexican, 149.

Political Economy, 105, 217, 264, 294, 302-309, 328.

Politics of Mexico, 19, 111-118, 282-284, 290, 328.

Popocatepetl, ascent of, 265-273.

Population, 217, 302-309.

Potrero, 307.

Pottery, 85, 88, 151, 226, 275.

Priests, 9, 79, 285-290.

Prisons, 244-248.

Promenade of Las Vigas, 64.

Protective duties, 104, 264.

Puebla, 113, 281-291.

Pulque, 35, 37, 91.

Pulque-shops, 63.

Pyramids, 43, 141-148, 190, 274-278.

Quarries in the Isle of Pines, 6; of obsidian, 99; of Teotihuacán, 137.

Rag-fair in Mexico, 169.

Railway, 2, 24, 121.

Rain, 136, 266.

Rainy Region, 26.

Ranches, 25, 266, 299.

Rattles, 49.

Real del Monte, 77.

Rebozo, 56.

Reform in Mexico, 117.

Regla, 78; cascade of, 93.

Revolutions, 20, 114, 282-284.

Roads in Mexico, 29, 37, 76.

Robbers, 32, 117, 170, 297; Priest-captain of, 34.

Sacred trees, 215, 265.

Sacrifice of Spaniards, 145.

Sacrificial Clamps, 225; Stone, 223.

Saddles, &c., 162-167.

St. Thomas’s, W. Indies, 327.

Salinas of Campeche, 84.

Saline condition of the soil, 133.

Salt, 83, 154.

Salt-pans, 155.

Salto del Agua, 55.

Sand-pillars, 30.

San Andrés Chalchicomula, 312.

San Antonio de Abajo, 296.

San José and Earthquakes, 67.

San Nícolas, 272.

Santa Anita, 63.

Santa Maria de Guadalupe, 121.

Santa Rosita de Cocoyotla, 196.

Sardines, 87.

School of Mines, 47.

Scorpions, 319, 322.

Sculptures at Xochicalco, 185.

Serape, 169.

Sheep, 324.

Shrines of Xochicalco, 193.

Silver-mines, &c., 74, 92, 105, 107.

Siege & Capitulation of Puebla, 113, 282.

Sisal, 16.

Skull decorated with mosaic work, 337.

Slave-trade, 13, 16.

Smuggling, 273, 296.

Solar Eclipses observed in Mexico, 331.

Soldiers, 23, 114, 171.

Soquital, 82.

Spanish-moss, 57.

Spurs, 295.

Stalactitic Cave, 200.

Statistics of Mexico, 115, 249, 286.

Stone-hammers, 137.

Stone knives and weapons, 90, 103.

Streets of Mexico, 41, 55.

Sugar-canes, 179.

Sugar-hacienda, of Santa Rosita, 196; of Temisco, 180.

Sugar-plantations of Havana, 2.

Tacubaya, 57, 69.

Tallow, 324.

Tasco, Silver-mines at, 74.

Temisco, 179.

Temple-pyramids—_see_ Pyramids.

Tenancingo, 218.

Tenochtitlán, 41.

Ten Tribes, the, 17.

Teocallis, _see_ Pyramids.

Teotihuacán, Pyramids of, 141-148; Quarries of, 137, 141.

Tequesquite, 133.

Tezcotzinco, 152.

Tezcuco, 129, 150, 260-264; Aztec Bridge at, 153.

Tezcuco, Lake of, 65, 129, 138.

Thieves, 52, 170, 245.

Tisapán, 118-120.

Toluca, 219.

Tortillas, 38.

Tropical Vegetation, 2, 24, 179.

Turkey-buzzards, 22.

Valley of Mexico, 45.

Yapour-bath, native, 301.

Vegetation, zones of, 21-27, 178, 216.

Vera Cruz, 18-21, 325.

Virjen de Remedios, 123.

Virgins, the rival, 123.

Volantes, 2.

War-idol, 222.

Water-bottles, 171.

Water-pipes, 157.

Xochimilco, Lake of, 173.

Xochicalco, Ruins of, 183-195.

Yucatan, 16.

Zopilites, 22.