CANOE VOYAGE UP THE RIVER PANUCO. RAMBLES AMONG THE RUINS OF ANCIENT CITIES.
An independent mode of travelling.—The river and its banks.—Soil and productions.—A Yankee brick yard.—Indian huts.—Their manner of living.—Their position in society.—Their dress, stature and general appearance.—Arrival at Topila Creek.—Mr. Coss' rancho.—The Lady's Room.—Company at night.—An aged Indian.—His ignorance of the past.—Mounds.—Ruins of an ancient town.—Rancho de las Piedras.—Topila Hills.—Numerous Mounds.—An ancient well.—A wild fig-tree.—Extensive ruins.—An evening scene.—Attack of the Bandaleros.—Happy escape.
On the evening of the 14th of March, 1844, I took a temporary leave of Tampico, and proceeded up the river Panuco, with the intention of visiting, and as far as my time and means might allow, of exploring the ruins then known to exist, and of seeking others which I supposed might be found, in that vicinity. My mode of conveyance was as primitive and independent, as can well be imagined. In my own hired canoe, with an Indian to paddle me along, I felt that I was master of my own time and movements, and enjoyed, for a season, a perfect freedom from the ordinary restraints and responsibilities of social life. Leaving care, and business, and the world behind, and committing my little all to the favoring smiles of an omnipresent Providence, I threaded my way through the circuitous windings of that romantic stream, with a resolute purpose to enjoy every thing, and be annoyed at nothing, however strange it might be. This disposition is essential to the comfort of the traveller, in any strange land, and especially in one that is barbarous, or semi-civilized; and, under whatever circumstances it is put in requisition, it is its own sufficient reward.
The river Panuco rises among the lakes near the city of Mexico, and winds its meandering way, under several different names, the principal of which is "Canada," till it debouches into the Gulf of Mexico, six miles below Tampico. It is navigable about one hundred and forty miles, for all vessels that can pass the bar at its mouth; and yet, owing to its circuitous course, the distance by land, from this head of navigation to Tampico, is not more than forty miles. The river seldom swells so as to overflow its banks. The land, on either side, was found, on examination, to be a deep, rich loam, capable of producing corn, sugar, tobacco and rice. The sugar cane found in this region is extremely productive. It grows in height from fourteen to twenty feet, and requires re-planting but once in nine or ten years. It will be a glorious region for amateur planters and speculators, when "the area of freedom" shall have extended to the Isthmus of Panama. Ebony, rose-wood, dye-woods of various kinds, and sarsaparilla, are cut here in great abundance, and are important articles of exportation.
The banks of this river, though beautifully arrayed in the verdure of nature, want that humanizing interest, that peculiar utilitarian charm, which cultivation and occupation alone can impart. Our progress, therefore, though always presenting something new to the eye, seemed comparatively slow and tedious, with little of life, but that which we carried along with us, to disturb its quiet monotony.
As the evening of the first day was setting in, we stopped at a brick yard, the property of two enterprising kind-hearted Americans, by whom we were hospitably entertained, and who informed us that our day's journey had been made, by travelling a distance of eighteen miles. The new town of Santa Anna de Tamaulipas, brought into requisition, and gave employment to many of our countrymen. And, when the making of brick became lucrative, our good-natured hosts determined to lose no time in taking advantage of the occasion. The adventure was accordingly made, and a few years' thrift has placed their affairs in a hopeful and healthy condition. But, like all other foreigners in this country, they are heartily tired of remaining here, and are looking forward with much anxiety to the happy day, when they shall be enabled to return to their native land; for, such are the decrees of the government, that, in direct violation of treaty, an open warfare is kept up against the rights and interests of all emigrants,—but, more particularly, those from the United States,—many of whom are sacrificing their property and prospects of affluence, and leaving the country in utter disgust.
Early the following morning, we proceeded on our course up the river, stopping, occasionally, to visit the rude huts of the Indians. The huts are formed principally of mud, with thatched roofs, and present a most uncomfortable appearance; whilst the poor, degenerated occupants, derive a mean and scanty support, from a small strip of land along the banks of the river, their chief object being the cultivation of corn for their own use. Pieces of clay, put rudely together and baked, are the common utensils for cooking their food; and a few upright sticks or reeds, driven into the mud floor, with a hide stretched over them, constitute their most luxurious bed. Indolent and filthy, they work only to meet their own immediate wants; and, so degraded is their condition, that gaming and cock-fighting are their principal pastimes. The inebriating bowl, also, is eagerly sought by them, and a large portion of their earnings is spent in this riotous way, even under the guidance of their priests, at the celebration of a marriage, or on the occasion of a christening.
The Indians of Central America, bear as little resemblance to those of our country generally, as the Spaniards among whom they dwell do, to us. They do not, in any place, live by themselves, as independent tribes. They have no peculiar habits of life, or of warfare—no hunting—no sports peculiar to themselves—and none of the customs of their ancestors preserved, to distinguish them from the mass of people about them. It is only their complexion, their poverty, and generally degraded condition, that marks the difference between them and their neighbors. They occupy nearly the same position there, as the free blacks do in the United States, with this difference in favor of the latter—that there is nothing in the spirit of our institutions, civil, or religious, that prevents them from attaining a respectable education, and a comfortable independence.
AN INDIAN MAN AND WOMAN.
Ordinarily, the men wear trousers,—sometimes shirts of cotton,—but, in many parts of the country, owing to the prohibition of certain qualities and textures, this luxury is fast disappearing, and the more primitive dress of skins is taking its place. The rebosa, a narrow scarf, thrown over the head and shoulders, is indispensable to females. No matter what constitutes the other portion of their covering, even though, as is oftentimes the case, their wardrobe is so scanty as scarcely to cover their limbs, yet this is considered paramount. On one occasion, I remember to have seen a female, with a rebosa upon her head, which cost no less than twenty-five dollars, whilst her body was miserably covered with a sort of under garment, or petticoat, such as few of our common street beggars would be willing to wear.
These people are of the usual color and stature of the Mexican Indians, but not so finely formed as the majority of them are,—nor have they that good expression, so prominent among the people of the southern portions of Mexico. They seem, moreover, to be entirely destitute of that spirit of religion, which their manifest appreciation of some religious rites, would naturally lead us to expect. Altogether, they are the most unfavorable specimen of the natives that have fallen under my observation.
Before night-fall of the second day of our voyage, we reached the mouth of the Topila Creek, a distance of twenty miles from the brick-yard. Continuing our course up that stream about three miles, we came to a rancho, or cattle-farm, belong to a Mr. Coss, of Tampico, brother of the celebrated general of Texan memory. Before I left Tampico, this gentleman gave me a letter to his major-domo, a half-breed, who received us with great attention. The letter being very explicit on the subject of accommodation, I could not but fare well in this respect,—and it may yet, perhaps, be gathered from the sequel, that I was treated more like a prince than a common traveller.
Arriving at the place, we were ushered into a bamboo house, with mud walls, and floors of the same primitive material. This house contained no less than two apartments. One of these, sustained the distinguished appellation of "the lady's room"—and it was now my privilege to become its sole occupant. In one corner of the room, stood a bedstead, without bed or bedding; and a dressing-table, decorated with sundry condemned combs, oil-bottles, scissors and patches, occupied another; whilst a demijohn of aguardiente, and other interesting ornaments, such as saddles, guns, and swords, filled up the picture. However, as I intended to make this place my head-quarters, while exploring the hills and river banks in the neighborhood, I at once resolved to be satisfied with "the lady's room," and such other good things as the place afforded. Accordingly, at an early hour, I spread out my blanket, and retired for the night;—"deep into the darkness peering—long I lay there, fondly dreaming," as before observed, that I was "alone in my glory."
But, alas! the soft reflections of dreamy hours were disturbed by an unexpected visit from a goodly number of well-disciplined, noxious little animals, who introduced themselves to me in a most significant, yet unceremonious manner. No remarks being made respecting the object of their visit, I was left to infer, that the kindness of the major-domo had moved him to organize a new company of lancers, for my especial benefit. After many unsuccessful attempts to induce this unsolicited force to withdraw, my attention was politely called to another quarter. Having been strongly impressed, I was now fully convinced, of the immediate presence of sundry young pigeons, many of whom, protected by their maternal parents, were perched in the crevices of the wall over my head. These, together with the game fowls, setting under my bed, contributed much to destroy that confidence which, until now had not been disturbed, that I had actually secured the undivided occupancy of that unique apartment. Of course, it was unnecessary to arouse me in the morning.
Before sunrise, I found myself well equipped for the explorations of the day. The mules being in readiness, I started in company with a guide, and rode five miles to another rancho, where, as I was informed, there lived an Indian upwards of a hundred years of age. I found him, to my surprise, a hale and sturdy man—though he could give me no intelligence respecting the objects of my research. Indeed, so suspicious are these people of the designs of strangers, that it was with the utmost difficulty I could convince him, as well as others, that my only motive in visiting the country, was to acquaint myself with the ancient places of their forefathers; not, as they supposed, to roam in quest of gold and silver mines.
Supposing that, in a man so much beyond the ordinary limit of human life, whose memory might extend back almost one-third of the way to the era of the Spanish conquest, and who was now in the full possession of his faculties, I had found a rare and enviable opportunity to pry into the mysteries of the past, and learn something of the history of the remarkable people, who once occupied this whole region, and filled it with monuments of their genius, taste, and power;—I employed all my ingenuity to draw out of him whatever he knew. But it was pumping at an exhausted well. Of facts, of history, in any form, he had nothing to tell. He seemed not to have a thought that there was anything to be told, except one vague unsatisfactory tradition, the only one existing among the inhabitants in all this region, that once on a time—they have no conception when, whether a hundred or a thousand years ago—"giants came from the North, as was prophesied by the gods, killed and destroyed the people, and continued on to the South." This tradition, bearing a strong analogy to one which prevails among nearly all the aboriginal tribes of the Mississippi Valley, and the wilds of the west, seems to be the only connecting link between the present generation, and that mysteriously interesting blank—the exterminated obliterated Past.
In the vicinity of this rancho, in an easterly direction from it, I found, in several considerable mounds, the first traces of ancient art that had greeted my eyes. One of these mounds was more than twenty-five feet in height, and of a circular form. At its sides, a number of layers of small, flat, well-hewn stones were still to be seen. Scattered about, in its immediate neighborhood, were also many others of a larger size, and of different forms. These had apparently once been used for the sides of door-ways and lintels. They were perfectly plain, without any mark or sign of ornament.
Upon this spot once stood one of those ancient Indian towns, the memorials of whose departed greatness and glory are so often met with, in every part of this interesting country. The ruins in this place are ruins indeed, so dilapidated as not to afford, at the present time, the remotest clue to the manners and customs of the builders, or the degree of civilization to which they may have attained. I traversed the whole ground, as well as the rank vegetation, and wild animals would permit, and found my way back to the Topila at dark,—congratulating myself on having been able to accomplish so much, in the way of exploration, with no other protection than the untanned skin of an American, while that of a rhinoceros seemed absolutely necessary to the undertaking; for both the animal and vegetable kingdoms appeared to be combined against the intrusion of man.
On the morning of the next day, I set out with a party of Indians, on a visit to the Rancho de las Piedras, distant about two leagues and a half, in a south-east direction. We made our way, slowly, and wearily, as usual, threading the thick wilds with much toil and fatigue, until we reached a rise of land, or plateau, near a chain of hills running through this section of country, and known as the Topila Hills. Here I found stones that were once evidently used for buildings. Proceeding on our way, we came to other and clearer evidences of ancient art. These were mounds, the sides of which had been constructed of loose layers of smooth and uniform blocks of concrete sandstone;—but most of the layers had fallen from their original position, and were found in large masses near the elevation. The blocks of stone, with a surface eighteen inches square, measured about six inches in thickness, and appeared to have been laid without mortar, or other adhesive material. I observed about twenty of these mounds, contiguous to each other, and varying in height from six to twenty-five feet,—some being of a circular, and others of a square form; but, unlike most of those found in other parts of the country, they were not laid out with any degree of regularity. On the top of one of the largest, there had evidently been a terrace, though it was difficult, in its present dilapidated state, to define its outlines, or judge of its extent.
The principal elevation covers an area of about two acres. At the base of this mound, was a slab of stone about seven inches in thickness, well hewn, and of a circular form, having a hole through the centre, and resting upon a circular wall, or foundation, the top of which was level with the ground. This stone measured four feet nine inches in diameter. On removing it, I discovered a well, filled up with broken stone and fragments of pottery. Stone coverings in wells have been found in the ancient works on the main branches of Paint Creek, Ohio, bearing a strong resemblance to the one here noticed; and it is also worthy of remark, that wells covered in this way, strongly resemble the descriptions we have of those used in the patriarchal ages. How much of an argument might be made, from such an isolated circumstance as this, to confirm the opinion entertained by some able writers, that the aboriginal inhabitants of America were the descendants of Abraham, the lost ten tribes, who revolted under Rehoboam, the son of Solomon, and were carried away into Assyria, I shall not undertake to decide. Many a fair theory, however, has been erected upon a foundation no broader than this, nor more substantial; and many a volume has been written to sustain the shadowy fabric.
I should have stated above, that the upper side of the stone removed, bore evidence of having been originally wrought with ornamental lines; but these lines were so much obliterated by time and exposure to the weather, that they could not now be traced.
On the top of this mound, a wild fig-tree, more than a hundred feet high, grows luxuriantly, indicating by its size and age, that the mound on which it stands, is not the work of modern builders.
The walls of the smaller mounds had invariably fallen inwards, a circumstance which led to the conjecture that they had been used as burying places. For, as the bones within would, in process of time, decay and moulder into dust, the loose walls, having no cement to hold them together, would gradually settle in upon the ashes of the dead. The ground for several miles around, was strewn with loose hewn stones, of various shapes, and broken pieces of pottery, evidently parts of household utensils; also, fragments of obsidean, which no doubt had been used as the knives and spears of a people, respecting whom, little is known at this day, except that they were a warlike race, and far advanced in the arts of civilization. The nearest point now known, where this mineral can be obtained, is Pelados, near the Real del Monte, in the vicinity of the city of Mexico. The celebrated "Mountain of Flints," which, though but twenty-four miles in extent, cost the indefatigable Cortes, and his brave band, twelve days of the most painful toil to surmount, lies still farther off, in the south western part of Yucatan.
An incident of a somewhat startling character, which occured to me here, while it illustrates another feature in the state of society in these parts, and the character of the people whom the traveller sometimes has to deal with, will serve to bring the present chapter to close; leaving the interesting curiosities discovered among the ruins, and a yet more thrilling adventure which befel me, to form the material for a separate chapter.
It was evening. The day had been spent in rambling and climbing about the time hallowed ruins of those old deserted cities, and searching among the mouldering relics of antiquity, for something to identify the dead with the living, or to serve as a satisfactory link between the past and the present. My Indian comrades and myself were cosily discussing our forest fare, each indulging in his own private reflections, and totally unsuspicious of any interruption to our humble meal, when we were suddenly surrounded by a band of those grim-looking, dark-bearded, heavily-whiskered gentlemanly-looking like highwaymen, that infest almost every part of the country. They immediately dismounted, and made us prisoners, seizing us by the hand as if they would bind us, to prevent our escape. We made no resistance, for we were unprepared for defence, and entirely at their mercy. Here, now, was trouble enough. What a poor finale to my brief and unprofitable adventures, to be murdered in cold blood by these merciless banditti, or made a hopeless captive in some of their mountain fastnesses! My position, feelings, and reflections, can be better imagined than described.
Having surveyed us from crown to toe, with the utmost scrutiny, and compared notes respecting our appearance, and the prospect of obtaining any satisfaction in our blood, they drew forth from their bags—the huge and fearful looking horse-pistol?—No. The long, glittering, keen-edged, high-tempered dirk, drunk with the blood of numberless victims of their rapacious cruelty?—No. The slender stiletto, so delicately formed, and so exquisitely polished, as to insinuate itself into the vitals, ere the parted epidermis had realized the rent it had made in passing?—No. The savage cutlass?—the heavy, fierce-looking, trenchant broad-sword?—No. Not these—nor any of them,—but, unexpected, and unheard of, even among civilized highwaymen—they drew out an ample store of substantial food, and invited us to partake of their supper. We did not shrink from their professed hospitality. We made ourselves of their party for the moment, and spent an hour, or more, in their company, with great glee, and with mutual satisfaction—after which, they mounted and rode off, and we took to our hammocks and our dreams.
By what token we escaped, I was not able to conjecture. Whether, as my vanity might have suggested, it was to be attributed to my good looks, or to my Spanish sombrero, flannel shirt, and bandolero air, or to the influence of some propitious star, just then in the ascendant, is a mystery yet to be explained. If I may have the same good fortune in escaping the censure of the reader, upon whose patience these trifling sketches have been inflicted, it will afford me a gratification that will far more than overbalance all the pains and inconveniences that I have suffered, from being brought into conflict with insects, wild beasts, and robbers.