We traversed the whole length of the streets, through the suburbs, to visit "La Fuente," which is situated in a small dell at the foot of the hill which overhangs the town. It is a beautiful spot, ornamented with every variety of flower. Its source was concealed from view. "La Fuente" is an artificial stone reservoir, of considerable length, beautifully overshadowed with trees, from whose branches depends a kind of curtain of interwoven vines, falling in the most luxuriant festoons on every side. It is not now, as perhaps it has been in former days, a place of public resort for recreation. It is the general laundry of Tampico; and its margin is daily crowded, not with sylphs and naiads, but with a motley set of Indian women, more appropriately compared to ancient sybils, or modern gypsies. It was, altogether, the most remarkable and striking scene that had fallen under my view in my recent travels, and one that would figure well in the hands of the author of the "Twice Told Tales," or the "Charcoal Sketches." To their notice I commend it, with free license to make what use they please of my poor description.
The sun was setting when we returned to Santa Anna de Tamaulipas. We paddled slowly away, pausing occasionally to admire—with my agreeable companions—the brilliant effect of the last rays of day light upon the lakes, woods and mountains, and the luxuriant foliage, realizing more fully than I had ever been able to do before, the rare beauty of those remarkable lines of Beattie—
Oh! how canst thou renounce the boundless store
Of charms that nature to her votary yields,
The warbling woodland, the resounding shore,
The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields,
All that the genial ray of morning gilds,
And all that echoes to the song of even,
All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields,
And all the dread magnificence of heaven—
Oh! how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven!
Winding between verdant banks, through the broken channel, into the beautiful Panuco, we reached the mole before night-fall, well satisfied with the adventures of the day.
Before leaving the town, I wish to introduce to the reader two classes of men, who are somewhat peculiar in their appearance, characters and habits, as well as somewhat important in their relations to the business of the country.
The Rancheros are a mixed race of Mexican and Indian blood. They live on the Ranches, or large cattle farms, and act as drovers. They are brave, and full of life and vivacity, but profoundly ignorant of every thing beyond their immediate occupations. There is an air of independence, and a fearlessness of manner, in the Ranchero, which is quite imposing. Sallying forth on his sinewy horse, encased in leather, with the ready lasso at his saddle bow, he seems, though in coarse attire, the embodiment of health, strength and agility.
The Arrieros, the muleteers of the country, have their peculiarities, the most striking of which, and by far the most agreeable, is, that they are honest. For this virtue they are proverbial, as indeed they should be in a land where it is scarcely known in any other class of society. Many of them pride themselves much upon their vocation, which frequently passes down from father to son, through several generations. They are civil, obliging and cheerful. They have, as a class, the entire confidence of the community, and millions of property are confided to their care. Their honesty and trustworthiness remain unimpaired amid all the political changes of the country. Often as they are compelled to change masters, they serve the new with the same fidelity as the old, and a stranger, or even an enemy, as well as a friend.
Although this rigid honesty and trustworthinesss, in this class of persons in Mexico, is worthy of remark and of all praise, I take pleasure in stating, from my own personal observation, that it is not peculiar to that country. The same class of persons in many parts of the United States, are distinguished for the same virtue. Our common stage drivers and mail carriers, although their employment is of the hardiest character, and their general associations such as to expose them to many of the worst temptations of taverns, bar-rooms, and other kindred influences, are as well known for their integrity and faithfulness, in the trusts committed to them, as for their skill and fearlessness in the management of their teams. It is the common custom, in many parts of the country, to employ these men in conveying remittances from the interior, to the banks, or merchants, in the seaport towns. Thousands and thousands of dollars are daily sent in this way, without receipt or acknowledgement, and with perfect reliance on the faithfulness of the carrier. And I do not remember an instance, in that part of the country where I have been most acquainted, in which this confidence has been misplaced. If the Mexican Arriero is deserving of more credit for his virtue, in consequence of the inferior tone of morals in the community about him, we would not willingly deprive him of it. At the same time, we confess to a patriotic pride in finding, for every thing that is "lovely and of good report" in foreign lands, an offset of something equally good, or better, at home.