In Indian Mexico (1908)

by Frederick Starr

When, toward evening, we returned from San Estevan, tired but quite satisfied with the day's work, we found a delegation of more than a dozen men waiting for us in the plaza. We did not need so large a number to complete our work, and it was nearly dark; we would gladly have dismissed them and run our chances of securing others the next day. But neither they nor the jefe politico were to be bluffed. So we marched into the corridor, lighted candles and got to work. When those lacking to make our full hundred had been measured, we proposed to let the others go, but they were not to be thus got rid of, and insisted on being measured as such were the orders of the governor. We were not through until long after dark, and we were ravenously hungry.

This delegation was one of the most attractive, clean, and intelligent with whom we had dealt. It was from Los Reyes, a little town at a distance of about half a league. It was headed by the village juez. After we had completed the measuring, they stood, shifting their sombreros from hand to hand and plainly wishing to say something further; finally, mustering courage, the juez and secretario advanced and stated that it was the town's desire to have a picture taken of the church, with the saint and people of the village before the door. Would it be possible for us to make the picture and on what conditions? We replied that time was precious and that the trip, if it involved a loss of time, was quite impossible; but if they supplied carriers to take the instruments to and from their village, and had all ready before seven in the morning, we would make it. Delighted, the officials then inquired what we would wish for breakfast; we answered French bread and red wine. When we looked out of our window, a little before seven, we saw our party ready and waiting. The juez, the secretario, and two others made the company. A basket, carefully carried by one, was suspected to contain our breakfast. The burdens were shouldered, and we started out in the cool, fresh morning air, for the village, where we arrived in about half an hour. It is a town of less than one hundred people, situated upon a little mountain, hidden, to one looking from Tlaxcala, by intervening hills. We were received in the town-house, which is a portion of the old church building; mass was in progress, and we told those who received us, that we had no wish to interfere with their religious duties; that those who wished, might go to service. Most went, but two or three were left as a committee of entertainment. They took us to a view-point from which there was a magnificent valley to be seen. And, here, we found one of the finest echoes possible. Rockets were exploded and the noise was echoed from hill to hill around the great amphitheatre; it was like a long reverberation of thunder, but

it sank and swelled, sank and swelled, repeatedly, until it seemed that it would never stop. Service over, the procession formed, and the santito was brought out before the church. The townspeople were arranged and the view taken. We were then invited in to breakfast, which was fine. There were plenty of French rolls and the red wine brought from town, and a great heap of enchiladas, fresh lettuce and eggs. After eating, we expressed a wish to hear the village drum, a great huehuetl. This musical instrument is a reminder of the olden times; it is not found everywhere, but a number of indian towns possess one, which is kept to be played on festal occasions. The one as Los Reyes was some three feet or so in height, a hollow cylinder of wood with a membrane stretched across the upper end; it was painted blue. A chair of state was placed for me in the little patio. After I was seated the three musicians took their places,—one played the great huehuetl, a second beat the tambour or ordinary drum, the third performed upon the chirimiya, a shrill wooden pipe. It was the first time we had really heard a huehuetl. The player used two sticks with padded heads, beating with great force in excellent time. The booming of the instruments was audible to a great distance. The whole village had gathered, and in a momentary lull in the music, I told the people of the ancient use of the huehuetl; that Bernal Diaz, in his history of the Conquest of Mexico, tells us what feelings filled the hearts of the Spaniards, when they heard the great huehuetl, in the temple of the ancient city of Tenochtitlan; then it was chiefly beaten when human victims were being sacrificed to the gods, and the soldiers knew that some fellow-countryman, or a Tlaxcalan ally, was dying. Never have I given a public lecture, that was listened to with more attention or greater appreciation.

THE VILLAGE AND ITS SAINT; LOS REYES

CUEZCOMATE, OR GRANARY; SAN NICOLAS PANOTLA

The day we measured women at San Estevan, we found an indian mason there at work, whom we had measured at Tlaxcala, and with whom, on one occasion, we had some conversation. He was disgusted at the conduct of the women while undergoing measurement, and at evening said, "Sir, it is a pity for you to waste your time in a town like this; these people are little better than animals; in my town there is great enthusiasm over your work, and by going there you might do your will and find people with minds, not beasts." There was really no work left to be done, but we desired to see a town where there was great enthusiasm over our investigations. Hence, we arranged with Ignacio Cempoalteca to visit his pueblo of San Nicolas Panotla. Accordingly, on the afternoon of the day when we visited Los Reyes, we went across the valley to Panotla, Ignacio and an older brother, Jose, met us at the hotel, where—excusing himself on account of the mason-work at San Estevan, which could not wait—Ignacio left us, assuring us that Jose would do everything for us. This was quite true, and we found Panotla all that it had been painted.

Jose led us directly to their home. The walls were well built of stone set in adobe mortar; they were smoothly coated with a snowy plaster; the supporting walls of the little terrace on which the house was built were also well constructed and it was with some pride that Jose told us that the work had all been done by himself and Ignacio. Jose is married and has a wife and three children; Ignacio is a bachelor; a younger brother, Carmen, is also unmarried—he has taught himself free-hand and architectural drawing and showed us examples of his work. The old father and mother own the home and received us hospitably. Jose guided us through the village, where we photographed whatever took our fancy, entered houses, examined all that interested us, and really found enthusiasm for our work everywhere. Before the churchyard stands a quaint old cross of stone, dated 1728, upon which are represented all the symbols of Christ's passion; a long inscription in Aztec is cut into the base. Close by the church, we visited the boy's school, where we found some forty dark-skinned, black-eyed, youngsters, whose mother-speech is Aztec. We proposed to photograph them, so they were grouped outside the schoolhouse, but not until a pair of national flags and the portrait of the governor, Prospero Cahuantzi, were fixed upon the background wall.