Rambles by Land and Water; or, Notes of Travel in Cuba and Mexico

by Benjamin Moore Norman

The borders of the Tamissee, with a soil of exceeding richness and fertility, are under Indian cultivation, and supply the market of Tampico with fruit and vegetables. The plantain is in great request there, and plantations for cultivating it are numerous and extensive. Its growth is luxuriant, and its flavor particularly rich and agreeable. Sugar cane grows almost spontaneously, and in such abundance that credulity itself is staggered at the thought. One planting, without further care or labor, is all that it requires of human attention, for fifteen or twenty years. I measured a cane which had been planted nine years. It was vigorous and thrifty, as if of last year's planting, had grown to the enormous length of twenty-one feet, and exhibited forty-five joints. The product of the juice, though not perhaps in full proportion to the size of the plant, is much greater than that of the ordinary cane. Thirty-two gallons of the juice will yield no less than twelve pounds of sugar. This is considered only a fair average. That this gigantic cane is in very tall company, will be seen from the fact that the bamboo, which I have often measured, grows to the height of sixty feet.

Wages, on these plantations, including the amount of one dollar allowed in rations of corn, are seven dollars per month, which, if properly husbanded, and prudently expended, would afford a comfortable subsistence to the laborer. But the Indians, who perform all this kind of labor, are, as I have before had occasion to remark, proverbially lazy and shiftless. Great difficulty is experienced, in all this country, in keeping them steadily at any kind of work. To find one of them so industrious and thoughtful, as to have any thing in advance of the absolute wants of the day, would be matter of astonishment. They work only when they are hungry, and stop as soon as they are fed. The instincts of nature alone can rouse them to make any exertion, unless compelled by some superior force, or a contract from which they cannot escape.

The price of the ordinary sugar, in this vicinity, is only about two cents per pound; but the clay-clarified is worth from twelve to fourteen cents, a price which, it would seem, would amply remunerate the manufacturer. And yet I do not know of an establishment of the kind in any section of this country. If any enterprising Yankee should take the hint, and realize a fortune in the enterprise, I trust he will bear in mind, as he retires, that "one good turn deserves another."

In pursuing my different routes through the woods, and along the water courses, of Mexico, I have often been struck with the immense size, and luxuriant foliage of the trees. The Banyan, or wild fig, in particular—of which I had occasion to take some notice before—with its numerous gigantic trunks, propping up its great lateral branches, from which they had originally descended in slender suckers, often covers an immense area. Possessing within itself the material for a vast forest, it presents to the beholder a magnificent and imposing spectacle. From some points of view, when favorably situated, it has the aspect of a vast natural temple, with its "long drawn aisles" and its almost endless colonnades supporting a roof overgrown with trees, and walls hung with clustering vines. The gloomy recesses within, would seem a fitting altar-place for the bloody rites of that dark idolatry, which once overshadowed these beautiful regions.

The fan palm, called here palma real or royal palm, rises from seventy to eighty feet in height. It is a magnificent tree, and whether seen in clusters, or alone, is always beautiful. With its tall straight trunk, and its richly tufted crown of fringed leaves, waving and trembling in every breath of air that stirs, and glistening in the sun with a beautiful lustre, it has a glory and a grace peculiar to itself. It was so abundant in this region, at the time of the conquest, that the Panuco was then called the Rio des Palmas, the River of Palms. A great variety of other trees are met with here, of magnificent size and splendid foliage, waving their brilliant branches in the breeze, and presenting strong inducements to the traveller continually to pause in wonder and admiration. In good sooth, it may be said that "man is the only thing that dwindles here."

Having hauled up under a tree, made fast our canoe, and spread my blanket over me, I passed a comfortable night, as I had often done before, in the same primitive way. In the morning, I continued on my way two or three leagues farther up the river, where I found ruins, similar, in their general character, to those I have already described. They covered a considerable space, and were buried in some places, beneath masses of vegetable mould, and in others, overgrown with trees of immense size and great age. I wandered up and down among them, for a considerable time, sometimes cutting my way through the thick forest, and sometimes clambering over piles of broken stones, and long dilapidated walls, till I was quite weary with my labors. But I made no discoveries of sufficient interest to require a particular description. Every thing was so utterly ruinous, that it was impossible to trace out the lines of a single building, or determine the boundaries of the city, in any direction.

Some distance farther up, on Carmelote Creek, there are other ruins, in the midst of which there are seventeen large mounds, of a somewhat peculiar construction. Though in a pretty good state of preservation, I found that the walls were not built of stone. I penetrated one of them to some distance, but discovered nothing but earth and mortar, and broken pieces of pottery, with a few rude specimens of carved images, cut in concrete sandstone. Some of the latter were as large as life. One of these I brought away with me; also several fragments of Penates, some of which are represented in the engraving at the close of this chapter.

The mortar in these mounds seems to have been placed in layers at the bottom of the walls, but for what purpose I could not discover. It was not used as a cement, for, as I have said, there were no stones to be cemented. It was my opinion that these mounds were erected as places of burial, but there were no bones to be found, nor other traces of human remains.

At night, I came to a house, which seemed more like home than any thing I had seen in Mexico. The very sight of it was refreshing to the traveller. The arrangements were all made with good taste and judgment, and a due regard to comfort. The grounds were pleasantly laid out, and beautifully ornamented with trees and flowers. On inquiry, I learned, as might have been expected, that this inviting looking place was built and occupied by a thriving Yankee, who had brought with him to Mexico his good notions of husbandry and house-keeping. He gave me a hearty welcome to his house, and entertained me, for the night, with the greatest kindness and hospitality. If there were a few more such hospitable, home-like resting-places, distributed here and there among these interesting regions, it would be vastly more agreeable and comfortable to the jaded traveller, who attempts to explore their time-honored ruins.

The native Mexicans, in these parts, are an indolent, haughty, overbearing race. Still adhering to the barbarous policy of old Spain, they hold the people of every nation except their own, however much they may be in advance of them, in utter contempt. They are decidedly the most disagreeable class of people in this country. There is little intelligence or information among them. Education is at a very low ebb. There are some bright exceptions to this general remark; but they are lamentably few and far between. Whether a good school-master would be well sustained in this region, is a question which I am not prepared to answer; but certain I am he would find ample scope for the exercise of his vocation—a native soil wholly unoccupied, except with weeds.