Part 5

The bull having given up all idea of escape, plunges at everything he sees, and the second horse is ridden up before him. No attempt is made to get the animal out of the way. He was brought there to be slaughtered, and took his turn. Both horses having been disposed of, and the bull being completely exhausted, the bugle gives the signal, the matadors enter the arena, and tease him with their scarlet cloaks. At frequent intervals around the ring are placed heavy planks, behind which the matadors run for protection when they were pursued. The bull had no chance at all; he was there simply to be teased and killed by slow degrees. One matador more agile than the rest baits the animal with his lance, and when the bull turns upon him, vaults over the down-turned horns by resting his lance upon the ground. Then they bring out the ornamented darts, and thrust them into the bull’s hide. The animal jumps and plunges with pain, and tries to shake them off, but the barbs cling to the hide, and the more he struggles the farther they penetrate the flesh. His shoulders are covered with them, and the crimson blood trickles down his sides. He stands panting with distress, his tongue hanging out, and is thoroughly exhausted.

The Governor’s trumpet sounds the bull’s death-warrant. It means that the cruel sport has lasted long enough, and the chief matador comes forward with a red blanket and a sword. He approaches the bull, and flaps the blanket in his eyes; the animal plunges at him, and with great dexterity the matador whirls and thrusts the sword into the animal’s heart. The bull plunges with pain, and throws the sword out of his body into the air. He staggers and falls upon the ground, the chief matador runs up, pierces his brain with a poniard, and the mules are brought in to drag the dead animals out. The band plays, the crowd cheers, and the first act is over. The matadors bow to the Governor, bow to the crowd, and rest, while a clown dances in the ring to amuse the people in the interim. Pretty soon the trumpet blows again, two more old crow-baits are ridden in, and another bull is brought from the corral. The same scenes recur; the horses are always killed, but the men are seldom injured. Four bulls are usually disposed of each Sunday afternoon before the appetite for blood is satiated.

This cruel sport in Mexico is in its decadence. It grew out of the lack of other entertainment. Until two years ago there was no horse-racing in Mexico, and this class of sport is unknown outside of the capital. The young men are not allowed to visit the girls, are not permitted to walk with them in the parks, and have, in short, no amusements but billiards, cock-fighting, and bull-baiting. The exodus of foreigners into the Republic will break many of the barriers down. While the “Gringos,” as foreigners are called, generally conform to the customs of the country, they refuse to accept all of them, and the Mexican people are gradually tending towards a more modern civilization.

The ancient volcano, Popocatepetl, has got into the courts. Not that it has been bodily transported into the halls of litigation, but it is the subject of a novel suit at law. For many years General Ochoa has been the owner of the volcano, the highest point of land in North America, together with all its appurtenances. The crater contains a fine quality of sulphur, which the general has been extracting, giving employment to Indians who cared to stay down in the vaporous old crater. The property was at one time fairly profitable; the volcano was, some time ago, mortgaged to Mr. Carlos Recamier, who brings suit of foreclosure. The papers have been joking about the matter, some asking what Mr. Recamier intends to do with his volcano when he gets legal possession. He has been solemnly warned that the law forbids the carrying out of the country ancient monuments and objects of historical interest.

Good-Friday is observed as a sort of May festival. The _Paseo de las Flores_ (Flower Promenade) is held along the Viga, the picturesque canal which stretches away between willows and poplars to the far-famed Floating Gardens of the ancient Aztecs. The scene along the historic causeway is astonishing to foreigners, and as charmingly peculiar as it is typical of a poetic and pleasure-loving people. For miles along the tree-lined avenue a constant procession of vehicles, horsemen, and pedestrians pack the space between green booths on either side, while the canal is crowded with canoes and Venetian-like gondolas. Everything imaginable on wheels is seen--the stately closed carriage of the Mexican millionaire, open barouches, coupés, victorias, dog-carts, wagonettes, even velocipedes and tricycles, while thousands of horsemen gallop gayly between.

The festivities are kept up, though in diminishing scale, until late Sunday night. During all these days the shrill, discordant rattle of ten thousand _matracas_ rises above the babel of human voices. These little instruments of torture are made of tin, iron, ivory, wood, even of gold and silver, and in all imaginable shapes. Some are in the form of humming-birds, birds-of-paradise, chickens, parrots; others are like gridirons, frying-pans, musical instruments, fruits, flowers, or reptiles. Everybody must have one, from the dignified grandparent to the baby in arms, and by twirling them rapidly a most unearthly, rasping, grinding sound is produced by wooden springs inside. The noise is intended to typify and ridicule the cries of the Jews, “Crucify him! crucify him!” as they followed Christ to His death.

On Easter-Sunday the strangest of all Mexican ceremonies takes place in the burning of the traitor. During all Holy-week men are continually perambulating the streets, holding high above the heads of the multitude long poles encircled by hoops, upon which are suspended the most grotesque figures, in every conceivable color, shape, and degree of deformity, and all with horns and crooked backs and twisted limbs. These are filled with fire-crackers, the mustache forming the fuse, and millions of them are annually exploded. Many are life-size, some having faces to represent politicians who are unpopular at the time. Some are hung by the neck to wires stretched across the streets, or to the balconies of houses. Every horse-car and railroad engine and donkey-cart is decked with one, and even every mule-driver has one or more tied on his breast. At ten o’clock on Easter-Sunday, when the cathedral bells peal forth in commemoration of Christ’s resurrection, they are all touched off at once, and the air is filled with flying traitors everywhere over the length and breadth of Mexico.

An American who is married in Mexico finds that he must be three times married: twice in Spanish and once more in Spanish or English, as he prefers, besides having a public notice of his intention of marriage placed on a bulletin-board for twenty days before the ceremony. This is the law. The public notice can be avoided by the payment of a sum of money, but a residence of one month is necessary. The three ceremonies are the contract of marriage, the civil marriage--the only marriage recognized by law since 1858--and the usual, but not obligatory, Church service. The first two must take place before a judge, and in the presence of at least four witnesses and the American consul. The contract of marriage is a statement of names, ages, lineage, business, and residence of contracting parties. The civil marriage is the legal form of marriage. These ceremonies are necessarily in Spanish. Most weddings are confirmed by a church-service.

At a Mexican church wedding it is the custom for the groom to pass coins through the hand of the bride, as typical of the fact that she is to keep the money of the household. A very pretty feature, as the couple kneel at the altar with lighted candles in their hands--an emblem of the light of the Christian faith--is the placing of a silken scarf around the shoulders of the bridal couple, and then the binding them together with a yoke of silver cord placed around the necks of both. That “thy people shall be my people” is an accepted fact, for it is a common thing for members of the bride’s family to take up their permanent residence with the husband, and make it their home.

One of the most singular, and, to the foreigner, most interesting of the institutions of Mexico is the _Monte de Piedad_. The phrase means “The Mountain of Mercy.” It is the name given to what is in reality a great national pawnshop, which has branches in all the cities of the country, is exclusively under Government control, and is not managed, as in the United States, by guileless Hebrew children. The central office of the Monte de Piedad occupies the building known as the Palace of Cortez, which stands on the site of the ancient Palace of Montezuma, on the Plaza Mayor. It was founded in 1775 by Conde de Regla, the owner of very rich

mines, who endowed it in the sum of three hundred thousand dollars. His charitable purpose was to enable the poor of the city of Mexico to obtain loans on pledges of all kinds of articles, and for very low rates of interest. He thus relieved the poorer classes from usurious rates of interest which had been previously charged them by rapacious private pawnbrokers. At first no interest was charged, the borrower only being asked, when he redeemed his pledge, to give something for the carrying on of the charitable work which the institution had in hand. But as this benevolence was greatly abused, it was found necessary to charge a rate of interest which was very low, and yet sufficient to yield a revenue equal to necessary expenses. The affairs of this institution have been wisely managed, and it has been kept true to the purpose of its benevolent founder. When pledges come to be sold, if they bring a price greater than the original valuation, the difference is given back to the original owners. The Monte de Piedad has survived all revolutions, and its ministry of relief to the sufferers by these revolutions and other misfortunes has been incalculably great and blessed. Its average general loans on pledges amount to nearly a million dollars, and the borrowers whom it yearly accommodates number from forty to fifty thousand. From the time when it was founded, in 1775, down to 1886--a little more than the first century of its existence--it made loans to 2,232,611 persons, amounting in the aggregate to nearly $32,000,000, and during the same period it gave away nearly $150,000 in charity.

There is nothing in which the Mexican character appears to better advantage than in the provisions made for the sick and unfortunate. There are in the city of Mexico alone ten or a dozen hospitals, some of which are large, well endowed and equipped, and managed in a way to compare favorably with the best appointed hospitals in any country. This for a city of three hundred thousand inhabitants is a more liberal provision than many larger cities in our own country have. A lying-in hospital was founded by the Empress Carlotta, who, after her return to Europe, sent the sum of six thousand dollars for its support. Besides the hospitals there is a foundling asylum capable of accommodating two hundred inmates: an asylum for the poor, which is a very large and important charity; a correctional school; an industrial school for orphans, having thirteen hundred scholars; an industrial school for women; another for men; schools for deaf-mutes and for the blind; and an asylum for beggars.

The Church of England has been established in Mexico for twelve or fifteen years, having been induced to hold services there by the large number of English residents in the city; but no missionary work has been done by that denomination. The Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions several years ago commenced to labor in the Republic under the patronage of Diaz, who was then President, and who gave them substantial

encouragement. Among other things, he presented the American Board with an old Catholic church, where the school is now held daily, and a printing-office, for the purpose of the publication of a weekly newspaper and religious literature, is carried on. There are now at work in Mexico six Protestant clergymen and two lady missionaries from the United States, twenty-four regularly ordained Mexican ministers, six native licentiates, and three native helpers. Seventy-five congregations have been organized, and meet for worship every Sunday, and the number of native members is about three thousand. There is also a Theological Seminary, with two professors from the United States and one native instructor, having a total attendance of twenty-seven young men preparing for the ministry. Fourteen of these are studying theology, and thirteen are in the preparatory department. There is also a school for girls, with two American and one native lady teacher, which has a large attendance. A missionary paper called _El Faro_ (The Light-house) is conducted at the Theological Seminary. The work is rapidly increasing, seven churches having been organized in 1885 and as many more in 1886.

The missionaries are very often interfered with by the country people, instigated by the priests, and several of the native preachers have been shot or injured. These attacks have usually been attributed to highwaymen, but after investigation have proven to be the work of assassins employed by the priests. One white missionary was murdered some two years ago while passing along the road at night, but his assassins were brought to speedy justice, and wholesome examples made of them.

In July, 1885, the Romanists of a small town in the interior entered a Protestant church, carried off all of the valuables, smashed the organ into fragments, emptied kerosene oil upon the benches, and set the place on fire. The furniture of the interior was destroyed, but the walls of the building, being of adobe, and the roof of tiles, the house was not destroyed. For some weeks afterwards several shots were fired at people who were on their way to evening service, and a missionary was attacked in the dark by armed assassins who would have been murdered but for the courageous use of his revolver. Subsequently all the other churches in the neighborhood were similarly treated, and when appeals were made to the local authorities for protection, and for the punishment of those who had committed the outrages, it was decided that it was the work of highwaymen, and a reward was offered for the arrest of the perpetrators. This opinion was thought to be a subterfuge, and it is believed that the authorities were in sympathy with the acts.

The matter was carried to President Diaz, who ordered an investigation, and promised an effectual protection to the missionaries wherever there was need of it. Several days after he issued a proclamation which was addressed to the commandants of the several departments of the Republic, and ordered that it should be read before the troops on parade, and kept posted in conspicuous places for the information of the public. In this proclamation, among other things, President Diaz said: “These acts of intolerance, apart from their injustice, are the data by which people of other lands judge of the nature and degree of our civilization, and for this reason especially I command that you give especial attention to prevent such outrages, and to secure to all believers in any religion the liberty which the constitution and laws concede to them. Catholics shall be protected in the same way as Protestants, and those who attempt to interfere with the exercise of any religious ceremony shall be punished severely. If troops are needed to carry this order into effect, they will be supplied upon request.”

GUATEMALA CITY.

THE CAPITAL OF GUATEMALA.

Guatemala has had three capitals, all called Guatemala City, since the Conquest. The first was founded by Alvarado in 1524, and buried under a flood of sand and water in 1541. The second capital was founded the same year, a few miles eastward of the old site, and was destroyed by an earthquake in 1773. The present capital is the largest and by far the finest city in Central America, and is more modern in its appearance than any other. It is situated in what is called the _tierra templada_, or temperate zone, about forty-five hundred feet above the level of the sea, at the northern extremity of an extensive and beautiful plain, and has a climate that is very attractive. The plain upon which it stands is by no means as fertile as many other portions of the country, and is deficient in water. The supply which is used by the people is brought for a distance of fifteen miles in an aqueduct, which has the honor of having been described by Charles Dickens in his sketch of “The Flying Dutchman.” These water-works were commenced as far back as 1832, and involved an expenditure of over two million dollars, but without them the city could not have prospered.

Guatemala City is not favorably situated for commerce, as it is a considerable distance from both seas, and is shut out from the most productive portions of the country by walls of mountains. The city is laid out in quadrilateral form, and formerly was surrounded by a great wall through which it was entered by gates opening in various directions. It covers a vast area of territory for a place of its population, as the houses, like those of other Central American cities, are very

large, and enclose attractive gardens. During the last twelve years, under the presidency of General Barrios, Guatemala has made rapid progress, and but for the low and commonplace appearance of the houses would resemble the more modern cities of Europe. All the streets are paved, with gutters in the centre, and have broad paths of flag-stones on each side for foot-passengers.

Antigua Guatemala, the old capital, thirty miles to the westward of the new, is still a place of considerable importance, and in its time was far superior to the present capital in size and appearance. Previous to its destruction in 1773 there were but two cities on the American hemisphere which compared with it in population, wealth, and magnificence. These were the City of Mexico, and Lima, Peru. New York was then a commercial infant, Boston a mere village, and Chicago yet unknown. But here was a city in which were centred the ecclesiastical and political interests of the Central American colonies, where millions of dollars were spent in erecting churches, convents, and monasteries, which covered acres of ground, and beautiful residences whose shattered portals still bear the escutcheons of the noble families who ruled the city and cultivated the plantations of coffee, sugar, and cochineal.

Antigua, as it is now called (properly old Guatemala), was not only the scene of wealth and influence, and the commercial metropolis of the country, but the home of the most learned men of all Spanish America, the seat of great schools of theology, science, and art, for two hundred years the Athens and Rome of the New World, the residence of the university, as well as the Inquisition, and the headquarters of those untiring apostles of evil, the Jesuits. The population is said to have been about one hundred and fifty thousand. It is not known that a census was ever taken, and this estimate is based upon the size of the city and number of inhabitants its ruined walls could have contained. It is situated in the centre of a great valley, between the twin volcanoes Agua and Fuego; and as the old Spanish chroniclers used to say, had Paradise on one side and the Inferno on the other. The beauty of its position and the richness of the adjacent country, the grandeur of the scenery that surrounds it, have called forth the most extravagant admiration from travellers, and have made it the theme of the native poets. Mr. Stephens, who wrote the most elaborate sketch of Central America we have, some forty years ago, says that Antigua Guatemala is surrounded by more natural beauty than any location he had ever seen during the whole course of his travels. The city is watered by a stream bearing the poetical name of El Rio Pensativo, which encircles the mountains and winds about through the plain in most graceful curves. It has for its tributaries many rivulets that water the plain, and finally falls over a cataract and flows through the valley below to the sea.

This valley was formerly famous for the culture of cochineal, and much wealth was derived from this source before aniline dyes drove it out of the market. The cochineal is a little insect which clings to the leaves of a species of the cactus, known as the nopal, and in the natural state the white hair upon its body causes the leaves to look as if they were covered with hoar-frost. Before the rainy season sets in the leaves of the nopal are cut close to the ground and hung up under a shed for protection. Then they are scraped with a dull knife, and the insects are killed by being baked in a hot oven or dipped into boiling water. If the first process is used, the insects become a brownish color, and furnish a scarlet or crimson dye. Those killed by baking are black, and are used for blue and purple dyes. They are then packed up in little casks, covered with hides to keep out the moisture, and sent to market, being valued at several dollars a pound. The great part of the expense is due to the time and trouble required to detach the insects from the nopal, two ounces being considered a fair result of a day’s labor; and it is said that it requires seventy thousand to make a pound. When they are dried they look like coarse powder.

The first capital was founded by Alvarado, the Conqueror. The exploits of Cortez in Mexico had become known among

the Indian tribes in the south, and the native kings sent an embassy to him offering their allegiance to the crown of Spain. Cortez received the embassy with distinction, and sent Alvarado back with them to take possession of the country. In 1523 Alvarado left the City of Mexico with three hundred Spanish soldiers and a large body of natives, and nearly a year later arrived at a place at the foot of the volcano Antigua, called by the Indians Almolonga, meaning in their language “a spring of water.” On the 25th of July, 1524, the festival of St. James, the patron saint of Spain, Alvarado, under a tree which is still standing, assembled his horsemen, the Mexican Indians who had accompanied him, and as many of the natives of the country as could crowd around, when the chaplain, Juan Godinez, said mass, invoking the protection of the apostle, and christening the city he intended to build there with the name of San Diego de los Cabeleleros--the City of St. James, the Gentleman. After these religious services, Alvarado assumed authority as governor, and appointed his subordinates.