This splendid monarchy, which was probably at the very acme of its glory, when discovered and overturned by the remorseless invaders from Spain, was the last of a series of powerful and highly refined dynasties, that had successively flourished and passed away, in the beautiful regions of Central America. Two mighty oceans on the east and west, two mighty continents on the north and south, and embracing, in the singular arrangement of its slopes and levels, all the climates and productions of both and of all, it seems to have been, for ages, we know not how far back, the theatre of all the art, the seat of all the power, the centre of all the refinement and luxury, of the western hemisphere. There are some remarkable works of art, and wonderful traces of ancient civilization in South America, as well as some singular remains of a once numerous and powerful people in the north. But the Isthmus was the Decapolis of Ancient America. "The tabernacles of its palaces were planted between the seas, in the glorious mountain." Here was its Babylon, its Nineveh, its Thebes, its Palmyra. And here, splendid in ruins, with no voice to tell of their ancient founders, or of the millions who once thronged their busy streets, they still remain, an instructive but painful lesson on the instability of human affairs, the brevity of a terrestrial immortality.
I have said that Mexico was the last of a series of splendid monarchies that had flourished, and passed away, in Central America. The evidences of the truth of this statement are too numerous, and too clear, to admit of a doubt. The ruins of extensive and magnificent cities, which abound on every side, like the sepulchres and monuments of the departed, are the melancholy memorials, which cannot be gainsayed, of the gigantic power and fruitful resources of the Past. Palenque, Copan, and many more in the south—Uxmal, Chi-chen, Ticul, Kabah, Mayapan, etc., in the central regions of Yucatan—Panuco, Cerro Chacuaco, and others without a name, in the north—these are but a part of the remains of ancient grandeur that lie buried under the soil, and hidden in the almost impervious forests of this luxuriant clime. Their name is legion. Some of them were deserted and in ruins at the period of the Spanish Conquest, and are occasionally spoken of by the historians of that day with wonder and amazement. Some were evidently occupied by other races than the builders, inferior in taste and refinement, if not in physical power; and some, though not then in utter ruins, were, as at the present day, waste and without inhabitant,—
Desolate, like the dwellings of Moina,—
The fox looked out of the window,
The rank grass waved round its head.
In the remains of these ruined cities, there are not only the evidences derived from their different degrees of dilapidation and decay, to prove that they originated in different and far distant ages, but others which show them to be the works of distinct races of people. The plan and architecture of the buildings, the style and finish of the ornamental parts, the forms and features of the sculptured heads, differ as widely as those of Egypt and Greece, and as clearly prove the workmanship of different periods, and different artists. Some writers have undertaken to trace in these ruins, evidences of three distinct ages of American civilization. Without entering into an argument on the subject, I would simply remark, that, whether three, or five, or more, no conclusion seems to my mind capable of a more perfect substantiation, than this, that these ruins extend far back into the remotest ages of antiquity, and form a continuous chain of connection between the earliest settlers in America, and the Toltecs and Aztecs, of whom we have something like authentic history. I go farther, and say that this chain is probably complete in its parts, though the links are separated, and cannot now be brought together again. They are all there, but so scattered and confounded together, that he who attempts to assign them a place and a date, or to build a theory upon their apparent relations to each other, will probably soon find himself "in wandering mazes lost," and rather amuse, than convince or instruct his readers.
These statements are, for the most part, drawn from the most reliable sources, and confirmed, as far as I have had opportunity, by my own observation. I shall take the liberty to regard them as facts. Intending to refer to them in the concluding chapter, and to draw from them some inferences in support of the opinions I have formed respecting the origin of the ancient American races, and the probable epoch of the ruins I have had the pleasure to explore, I shall make no further comment upon them here; but proceed to a brief epitome of the present condition of the empire of the Montezumas.
The population of Mexico is as mixed and various as that of any other portion of the globe. It includes, at least, seven distinct races. First, the Europeans, or foreign residents, called Chapetones, or Gapuchins. Secondly, Creoles, or native whites of European extraction. Thirdly, the Mestizoes, the offspring of whites and Indians. Fourthly, Mulattoes, the offspring of whites and blacks. Fifthly, the Aboriginal Indians. Sixthly, Negroes. Seventhly, Zamboes, or Chinoes, the offspring of negroes and Indians. There is also a sprinkling of Chinese and Malays, and natives of the Canaries, who rank as whites, and are known by the general name of Islenos, or Islanders.
While Mexico remained a colony of Spain, from the conquest in 1519, till the Revolution in 1810, all the power and influence, and nearly all the wealth, was confined to the first class. The revolution transferred it to the second, and expatriated the first. And this was almost its only result; for it does not seem to have been attended with any of the ordinary blessings of freedom to the common people, either in lightening their burdens, or elevating their moral condition.
The government of the colony was that of a Viceroy, the proud servant of a proud master in Spain, and amenable only to him for his acts. The people had no voice either of council or remonstrance. It was passive submission to absolute power. Whether that power became more severe and oppressive, in the early part of the present century, than it had been, or whether the increased numbers, wealth and ambition of the Creoles induced a desire to take the power into their own hands, or whether it was the mere contagion of rebellion and independence, diffusing itself over a continent reserved as "the area of Freedom," and separated by wide oceans from the despotisms of the Old World, it is not easy now to decide. The struggle was long and severe. Monarchy held on to the golden mountains of Mexico with a desperate though feeble grasp. Independence was declared, by the congress of Mexico, in 1813, but it was not finally and fully achieved until 1829, when the Spanish residents were expelled from the country.
The contest for independence, as is usually the case, brought out the patriotism, talent and genius of the native population. Several of the leaders distinguished themselves in the eyes of the world. Among the most prominent were Guerrero, Hidalgo, Moreles and Victoria.
In 1820, the Viceroy, who was still struggling to support the tottering throne, commissioned General Iturbide, who had been successful in several engagements with the Creoles, to reduce them to submission. Iturbide was born to be a traitor. No sooner was the army placed at his control, than he betrayed his trust, joined the cause of the revolutionists, and proclaimed Mexico independent. This was in 1821. A congress assembled in 1822, to form a constitution. But Iturbide, traitor to the cause he had just adopted, caused himself to be proclaimed Emperor, under the title of Augustin the First. Opposed by a powerful and resolute party, rendered desperate by their success hitherto, this self-constituted Emperor was compelled to abdicate in the course of a year, and retire to Europe, the proper theatre for legitimate tyrants. Returning to Mexico in 1824, with a view, as was supposed, to avail himself of the distractions of the country, to assert anew his claims to the imperial dignity, he was seized and shot, as soon as he had landed.