Part 10 (1/2)
It was afternoon when we drew out of Cuernavaca for the long climb to the height of land. As we ascended, the evening shadows were lengthening and creeping out from every cleft and hollow along the mountain sides; and toward the east, splitting the blue sky, towered Popocatepetl. The most profound impression of my sojourn in Mexico, a memory which will follow me through life, is that of the mighty, glittering, distant, yet ever-present, snow-bound cone of Popocatepetl.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE BORDA GARDENS--CUERNAVACA]
As we crossed the height of land and began our descent, the long evening shadows filled the great valley of Anahuac, while forth from every vale and hollow crept little bunches of cloudlike mist, until at last, with strange and weird effect, the a.s.sembled vapors shut from my vision the whole extent of the valley beneath, and made it seem as though we were plunging into the unfathomable depths of a white sea.
The land, the lakes, the towns, the villages, and the city were hid beneath the impenetrable, fleecy cloud-billows.
It was dark when we entered the city. I took a _cocha_, and I am here again in my stone-walled chamber of the hotel. I entered the city from the north, I now leave it by the east, along the route which was traversed by the invading conquerors from old Spain, when four hundred years ago they came up from the placid waters of the sea, a dreadful apparition, bringing death in their mailed fists, and pestilence and cruel enslavement to a proud and ruling race.
XVIII
The Journey by Night from Mexico City--Over the Mountains to the Sea Coast--The Ancient City of Vera Cruz
VERA CRUZ, MEXICO, _December 19th_.
Last night was to be my final one in Mexico, and as a troupe of Spanish actors was billed at one of the larger theaters, I went to see the play. There are a number of playhouses in the city, and paternal government is laying the foundation for an opera-house which, it is announced, will be one of the most _”magnifico”_ in the world. The theater we attended was one of the largest, and the actors, Spaniards from Barcelona, were filling a season's engagement. In purchasing tickets, the first novelty was the separate coupons which are issued for each act. You buy for one act or another as you prefer. The Mexicans rarely stay the play out, but linger for an act or two and then depart. There are tiers of boxes around the sides, in which were many men and ladies in evening dress, the belles and beaux of the city. We sat among the occupants of the seats upon the floor, the greater part of whom were men. The first noticeable difference between the audience here and that at home is that every man keeps on his hat except when occupying a box. It is bad enough, we think, for a woman to retain her hat or bonnet, but imagine how it is when you are confronted by mult.i.tudinous high-peaked broad-brimmed _sombreros_ of the most obtrusive type. The excuse for the wearing of these great hats upon all occasions is, that in the chilly air of these high alt.i.tudes, it becomes a necessary protection.
[Ill.u.s.tration: AZTEC INDIANS--MEXICO CITY]
The faces about me were dark; even the men in the boxes were of darker color than would be those of the pure Spanish blood. The women are also dark, their color much darker than that of the usual mulatto in the States. This is due to the large infusion of Indian blood among the Mexican people, even among the leisure cla.s.ses.
The actors were of the Spanish swarthy type, but among the actresses, there were, as always, two or three with conspicuously red heads, the Venetian red so p.r.o.nounced and popular among the London shopgirls.
These red headed belles received the entire attention and applause of the male portion of the audience. The audience also smoked incessantly, the gentlemen large Mexican cigars, the ladies their cigarettes. The right to smoke is an inalienable privilege of both s.e.xes in Mexico, the women using tobacco almost as freely and constantly as do the men. The acting was good, and some of the fandango dances brought thunders of _bravos_. The pauses between acts were long. In one of the intervals we sauntered out upon the streets, where a mob of ticket brokers so a.s.sailed us and bargained so successfully for our remaining coupons, that we sold them at an advance over the figure we had paid. The plays begin early, about seven o'clock, and the doors stay open until midnight, the constantly changing audiences giving to the actors fresh support.
On a previous night we visited another theater, where a more fas.h.i.+onable company gathered to see the well-known Frenchman, Frijoli, in his clever impersonations of character. Here were a.s.sembled Mexico's most fas.h.i.+onable set, among them a party of distinguished South Americans attending the Pan-American Congress, the ladies from Brazil, Argentina, and Chili wearing costly diamonds, and being in full decollete attire.
Here also the _sombrero_ reigned supreme in dress circle and on parquet floor, and smoking was everywhere indulged in.
Yesterday was to be my last day in Mexico. I started out in the morning to lay hold of a good opal and try my luck in buying _mantillas_. From the young woman in the shop where I had had my kodak films prepared, I learned the location of an establishment where _mantillas_ were sold. She could not talk to me in my own tongue. I was puzzled what to do, then an idea came to me. I took out a pencil and paper. I handed them to her. I indicated by signs that I would have her make a picture. Quick as a flash she interpreted my thought.
She laughed, and drew for me a perfect little map, showing the shop wherein I stood, the street it opened out upon, the streets and blocks I should follow until I came to the place where the _mantillas_ were, and she marked my final corner with an ”X.” I bowed to her profoundly, saying, many times, ”_Muchas gracias, mil gracias, senorita_,” and, with paper in hand, started on my quest. I had no trouble in finding my way. I finally halted before a big French retail dry goods store.
All dry goods establishments here are either French or Spanish, just as the hardware and drug stores are all German; the native Mexican is not keen in trade, and but few business houses are his.
It was a large concern, and many customers were pa.s.sing in and out. A number of clerks, all men,--I have seen no woman clerks anywhere--were standing behind long tables, while the public moved up and down between. I repeated the word _mantilla_, and was shown to where were many shelves filled with flat pasteboard boxes. Several of these were taken down and the beautiful pieces of lace shown me. As I stood there, in a quandary what to select, a pleasant-faced, short, stout man with a dark-haired woman approached me. As they neared the table, she turned to him and said in good United States, ”O, here are the _mantillas_ we are looking for.” Her appearance attracted me, and so, turning to her and lifting my hat, I bowed and begged her aid. He and I then exchanged cards. He was a Dr. S., of Was.h.i.+ngton, for many years physician to Mrs. T., whose wedding I attended two years ago, making geological studies in Mexico, and soon going to Central America. We were at once friends. He was gathering information for the Smithsonian Inst.i.tution. The lady was his wife. She aided me in selecting two lovely _mantillas_ of black silk. Later, they accompanied me in my search for opals, and helped me choose several fine stones. Afterward, at their hotel, the Jardin, they showed me their collection of photographs, and many of the mementoes and curios they were collecting. In the afternoon we dined together at my Creole restaurant. At last, we parted, with mutual regret.
The train which bore me from the city left the station of the Mexican Railway (”The Queen's Own”), about nine o'clock P. M. It is a standard gauge railroad. I had a comfortable lower berth in the Pullman. The car was crowded. Several young officers in their smartest uniforms were saying _adios_ to a number of black-eyed _senoritas_ and their mammas. The young men at parting, wrapped wide scarfs about their mouths, almost hiding their faces up to their eyes, a common practice used against pneumonia. The night air was cold. I wore my overcoat, and s.h.i.+vered where I stood upon the rear platform of the car watching through many miles the city's receding lights. We traversed the valley toward the east, and then began to climb the lower slopes of the mountain range we must cross before we should finally descend to Vera Cruz.
[Ill.u.s.tration: VOLCANO DE ORIZABA]
When I awoke in the morning we were yet three hours from the Gulf. We had crossed the mountains in the night; we had ascended three thousand feet, and come down eleven thousand feet, through wild and beautiful scenery; a journey never to be taken by night, unless necessity demands. We were more than two hours late, having been detained at Orizaba, while we slept. This was fortunate for me, for it gave me the daylight hours to view the lowlands through which the road pa.s.ses from the mountains to the sea.
Back of us, high, high into the cloudless blue sky, glittered the snowy peak of Mexico's greatest volcano, the lofty, mighty Orizaba, now known to be higher than Popocatepetl, and much like it in the contour of its cone; a most imposing sight as it shone in the light of the rising sun. Wherever we turned, wherever we went, mighty Orizaba followed us. We never lost sight of it, we could not escape its stupendous bulk. I am fortunate to have seen four of the chief snow-capped volcanoes of Mexico, and to have fine photographs of them all--Popocatepetl, Ixtaccihautl, Nevada de Toluca, and Orizaba.
The lowlands we were traversing are wholly tropical; we were among extensive plantations of bananas, palms of many sorts, coffee orchards, and impenetrable jungles. The sun was as hot as upon the _llanos_ along the river Balsas in Michoacan.
It was half-past nine when the train pulled into the station at Vera Cruz. A big negro, black as night, dressed in immaculate white duck, collared me the very instant my feet touched the ground. He spoke in soft, smooth English, with marked British accent. He introduced himself as ”Mr. Sam.” ”I am a British subject from Jamaica,” he said, ”and representative of the Hotel Metropolitan.” He offered to conduct me to that inst.i.tution. He a.s.sured me it was ”the finest establishment upon the coast.” As that was my predetermined destination, I permitted him to precede me there, carrying my bags. The sun was fierce, the atmosphere dull and heavy. We walked through filthy streets, streets never yet cleaned in all the four-centuries' life of Vera Cruz. The ill-paved and stinking gutters were filled with slime.
The streets were bordered with low-built stucco houses. We entered an ill-kept plaza where grew lank bananas and cocoanut palms, a low government building with a graceful tower bounding its eastern side.