This gave me the opportunity of stopping at my leisure to admire the grand prospect which from time to time opened out before us; the valley with its gay confusion of cultivated fields, and the houses of S. Cristobal shining in the sun. The ancient capital of Chiapas rises on a narrow plateau more than 7,000 feet above the level of the ocean, with a population of some 12,000 inhabitants; its climate is colder and damper than that of Mexico, and if we except the church of S. Domingo, possesses no edifice of interest. The houses are all built on the same pattern, and few are more than one story high, with no outer ornamentation of any kind. It looks what it really is, a poor, miserable place.
The market of S. Cristobal is the only one in Mexico where bags of cocoa are still used as currency, as in the time of Montezuma. The clergy of Chiapas, formerly so wealthy, has been deprived, like that of Mexico, of its emoluments and glebe lands, and the religious orders have also been suppressed.
We next follow the circuitous road to Chiapas, through a wild and dreary country, intersected by torrents, barrancas, and precipices of two or three thousand feet. We passed Ystapa, where the priest wished to know if France was a sea-port like Vera Cruz; and pressing on we reached the broad level of Chiapas, covered with sombre forests, bounded to the rear by the hills of Tuxtla, whilst to the right and left the eye travels over a boundless distance. Along the river which traverses the plain, specks of white show where the town lies.
We only stopped at Chiapas the time necessary to change horses, and pushed on to Tuxtla, twenty miles beyond, now the capital of the province, where no mules could be hired, and we were obliged to buy horses to take us on to Oaxaca. No danger was to be apprehended, for the country was quiet; we were, moreover, fully armed and provided with a good map.
Osocantla, our first stage, exhibits abundant traces of volcanic action. We hold our course across great rolling plains, dotted with forests and patches of cultivation, intersected by broad rivers, and pass Santa Lucia, the finest hacienda in these parts, surrounded by huts occupied by the labourers employed on the property; it possesses a sugar-mill, and a granary for corn and maize, whilst the woods are peopled with wild turkeys, pheasants, numerous red aras, green parrots, and clouds of gaudy butterflies, rivalling the beauty of the vegetable creation nowhere so brilliant as here, where the river, with its interminable windings, casts across this privileged land a perpetual green and variegated mantle.
Life here is primitive and patriarchal: In the evening after prayers, the servants come round to take their orders for the next day, kiss the master’s hand and wish him good night; then they all collect in the yard to enjoy, what they are pleased to call, an hour’s rest, which consists in games, singing and dancing, some accompanying the singers on the marimba, a kind of piano which is played with small sticks topped by india-rubber paddings, an instrument found also in South Africa, where it bears the same name, whence in all probability it was imported to America by negroes at the time of the Conquest.
We resume our march, and pass successively Llano Grande, Casa Blanca, S. Pedro, and La Gineta; the latter is one of the highest peaks of the sierra, clad with forests on the eastern side, but is only carpeted with grass towards the Pacific. We toil up its long winding ascent, but when we reach its summit, one of the grandest panoramas unfolds before our enraptured gaze. Looking back to the north, which we have just left, is the Cordillera, gradually sloping down from the high plateaux of Chiapas, to its deep, sombre valleys; whilst beyond are vast plains, and in the far distance the glimmering light of the Mexican Gulf; before us, to the south, is the verdant Gineta; lower down, the rich plain of Tehuantepec, bound on the horizon by the broad sheet of the Pacific. The pass of the Gineta is very dangerous in winter, owing to the violent winds which then prevail, carrying off both man and beast.
As we advance haciendas disappear, and we find the sides of the roads dotted with villages as in Mexico. The population seems indolent and inert, content to pinch or starve rather than exert themselves beyond what they have been accustomed. Villages are usually built near running streams, in which women are seen the whole day bathing; but, unlike Diana, they do not mind being looked upon, contenting themselves with turning their backs upon the intruder.
We steered our course safely through Zanatepec, Miltepec, but at Yaltepec we lost our way, and wandered about some time in the woods before we could find the main road, approaching Tehuantepec about nightfall, celebrated for its fair women, the handsomest in the State. They are cast in noble proportions, and have a dignified, erect carriage. Their dress consists of a short petticoat reaching the ankles, a jacket which leaves neck and arms bare; a uipil embroidered with gold and silver covers their head, whilst their small feet are incased in dainty little shoes. Their dresses sometimes cost a hundred pounds, a large sum in this part of the world.