TEPEHUAS AND TOTONACS
(1900)
Leaving Puebla on the early morning train, and taking the Pachuca branch at Ometusco, we changed cars at Tepa onto the narrow-gauge Hidalgo road for Tulancingo, which took us by a winding course through a great maguéy country. After two hours of riding, in the latter part of which we were within sight of a pretty lakelet, we reached Tulancingo. Broad avenues, bordered with handsome trees, connected the station with the town, in the plaza of which we shortly found ourselves. This plaza consists of a large square, planted with trees, with an open space before it, and is surrounded by various shops and the great church. It is pretentious, but desolate. In front of the treed space, were temporary booths erected for the carnival, in which dulces, aguas frescas, and cascarones were offered for sale. Hawkers on the streets were selling cascarones, some of which were quite elaborate. The simplest were egg-shells, dyed and stained in brilliant colors, and filled with bits of cut paper; these were broken upon the heads of persons as they passed, setting loose the bits of paper which became entangled in the hair and scattered over the clothing. Some had, pasted over the open ends, little conical caps of colored tissue-paper. Others consisted of a lyre-shaped frame, with an eggshell in the center of the open part. Some had white birds, single or in pairs, hovering over the upper end. The carnival was on in full force, and we saw frequent bands of maskers. They went in companies of a dozen or so, dressed like clowns, with their clothing spotted and striped with red. Their faces were concealed by cloth. They walked rapidly, almost ran, through the streets. They spoke to no one, and did nothing except to keep up a loud and constant trilling of the most ridiculous kind. Packs of youngsters chased behind and crowded upon them; they also pelted them with stones, and the head of one of the maskers was bleeding quite profusely, but he still kept up his headlong run and trilling. We had counted upon the assistance of the jefe, but found him too dignified to receive us outside of office hours, and therefore we arranged the matter of our transportation to Huachinango. The price was high, the coach inconvenient, and the cochero unaccommodating. In vain we tried to have all of our plaster taken in the load with us; only one-half could go, the balance must follow the succeeding day. Finally, at about ten in the morning, we lumbered heavily away, and were soon out of the town, passing through a brown, hilly district, at first devoted to pulque plantations, but further along becoming fine pastureland. Neat fields, separated by bands of yellow, unplowed stubble, and true farm-houses of good size, were striking features. We passed through quantities of pine groves, and everywhere a cold wind blew strongly in our faces. At one place, we were obliged to dismount and walk, on account of the sharp descent, and found ourselves upon an ugly piece of limestone or sandstone rock, which soon, to our surprise, we found replaced by a solid mass of obsidian. The cochero, says that the place is known as itzlis—the obsidians, the knives. It was 2:30 when we reached Aguazotepec, where we called upon the presidente, and engaged a mozo, for a peso, to convey our instruments the balance of the journey, as we were completely tired out with carrying them upon our knees. We also arranged with that official to forward the balance of our stuff to Huachinango the following day. We also arranged to pay for horses from Aguazotepec to Huachinango. Having eaten an excellent dinner, when ready for resuming our journey, we discovered, with surprise, that the stage was still our conveyance to Venta Colorado, only a league from Huachinango. There we were to secure the animals for which we had paid, though we were warned that only three could be supplied. Manuel and Louis at once tossed coins to see which should ride first. Although we had paid the full cost of the coach, two other passengers were crowded in upon us, and the man, for whom we had paid the peso to carry our instruments, ran alongside the coach on foot, throwing stones at the mules, while we had again the pleasure of carrying the instruments and boxes on our knees. The country through which we rode was much as before. For some time we passed through a fine pine forest; then we made a deep descent into a valley, at the bottom of which flowed a large stream, which was bridged by a grand old structure of stone and cement. This descent, and the opposite ascent, we were obliged to make on foot, as the approaches were bad. We have been impressed strongly with the fact that everywhere in Mexico the worst bits of road are those which, in old Spanish days, were handsomely and well paved; and which, during the disturbed period of the early Republic, were neglected and allowed to go to decay. It is depressing to see so many evidences of past magnificence and present poverty. It was almost dusk when, after skirting the edge of a deep gorge, we reached a piece of bad road, where the coach with difficulty made its way, with frightful jolts and pitchings, till we drew up at Venta Colorado. Here the coach was finally abandoned. Our animals were packed and mounted, and after fussing and quarreling with our ugly cochero as to whether he or we should carry the bulk of our baggage, we started. The distance was not great. It was down hill, and we had to pick our way with great care over the rough road, filled with loosened and separated blocks of ancient paving.
This district, in one respect, reminded us of the Tarascan country. Every house along the road was a sales-place, where drinks, cigarettes, fruit and bread were offered, and each had the little boarded window, open when sales were solicited, and closed when business stopped. The houses, too, were log structures with shingled four-pitched roofs, and the houses in the town were well built, cement-walled, with low-sloped, far projecting tile roofs supported on trimmed beams. One might as well have been in Patzcuaro, Uruapan, or Chilchota. Again the cochero; we had told him that the stuff should go to the jefatura, and not to the hotel; he told us with great insolence that the jefatura was closed, and that it would be impossible to see the jefe and that the stuff would remain at the hotel; he followed us, when we went to the jefe's house, and great was his surprise when he found our order efficacious. We had a long talk with the jefe, who told us that few indians lived in the town, and that none of them were Totonacs; he assured us that, though there were no Totonacs in Huachinango, we could find them in abundance at Pahuatlan, to which he recommended us to go. The nearest indian town to Huachinango is Chiconcuauhtla, but it is Aztec. The next day was spent in town, waiting for our other baggage, and for the jefe to arrange our orders and lay out our journey. My day of fever was on, and I spent it mostly in bed. There were many indians in the market, most of whom were Aztecs, though a few were Otomis. The men wore dark brown or black cotones; the enaguas of the women were wool and were dark blue or black. Many carried on their shoulders carry-pouches, consisting of two rectangular frames of sticks, corded together along the lower side, and kept from opening too widely, above, by a net of cords at the ends. The indians of Chiconcuauhtla are easily recognized by their little flat, round caps. Late in the afternoon the bands of maskers, here called the huehuetes, were out. There were a dozen of them, dressed in absurd costumes; a bewhiskered Englishman in loud clothing, a gentleman, a clown, a lady, etc. These all went, by twos, on horseback; a clown and a devil and a boy with a prod, on foot, accompanied them. The duty of the latter, who remotely resembled death, was to prod the unhappy devil. They were accompanied by noisy crowds the several times they made the rounds of the town, keeping up the peculiar trilling, which we had noticed at Tulancingo. At dusk, these maskers dismounted and promenaded in couples about the plaza.
Nowhere, as in this region, have we had so much difficulty with regard to animals. The demands were so exorbitant that we insisted upon the jefe making the arrangements. He received us in anything but a pleasant mood, but acceded, and finally we secured four horses and four mules, for which we were to pay for two full days, and a foot mozo to whom we also were to pay two full days' wages. As the jefe himself had made this arrangement, we consented to it, but the man who was outfitting us then demanded pay for the mozo who went to bring back the horses and for the fodder of the animals. At this, even the jefe balked, declaring that he was not in favor of really robbing the gentlemen. Paying him the seventeen dollars and twenty-five cents, in order that there might be no further discussion, we started. Just as we left, the man who supplied the animals decided that our loads, which before had been so large, were really not too large for three mules, which num ber was actually sent with us, though we had paid for four. We were ready for starting at seven, but it was ten before we left. Meantime, clouds had gathered, and just as we started, rain began. There were first several separate showers, and then a steady downpour, which lasted almost till we reached Pahuatlan. All the blankets had been packed away, and we rode through the rain until our clothes were drenched through and through. For three hours this continued, and it was impossible to see anything of the country through which we passed. Finally, however, as we reached a great crest, and looked down into the valley beyond, the sky was clear and we could see something of the scene about us. The descent we were to make, and the slope in front, were covered with sugar-cane, broken here and there by great patches of pineapples. With each plantation of sugar-cane there was a little shelter of poles under which was a sap-trough or boiling-tank, while at the side of and behind the shelter was a rude mill, the power for which was furnished by a yoke of oxen. Boys fed the fresh cane between the crushing rollers, and the sap, as it ran out, was carried in little troughs to vats. Not at all these little shelters was sugar-making in progress, as we passed, but over both slopes many columns of smoke indicated places where the work was going on. The fire in the vat kept the sap boiling, and a man standing near with a great ladle, pierced with holes, kept dipping up and pouring out the hot sap. When we started up the great ascent we had no hint of Pahuatlan, and, when we reached the summit, could see nothing of it. But hardly had we begun the descent before we saw the large and handsome town below, but still with a long slope and a sharp ascent to be passed, before we could reach it. From the brook-side, at the bottom of the valley, almost to the village itself, we passed through a dense growth of bananas, which seemed to have suffered some damage, as many were dry and yellow, and individual leaves were curiously tattered and jagged. Among them grew other plants, coffee, orange-trees, peaches, and cane. When we reached the town, my heart sank; a church with handsome dome and modern tower, a planted plaza with central fountain, buildings, of two stories with gaudy fronts and portales, surrounding three sides of the square, augured better for comfort while we were in the place, than for work on Totonacs. We rode up to the municipio, where we found the presidente, a rather stylish young fellow, who was interested in our work and helpful. The town controls fourteen thousand persons, and its name is derived from that of a large ahuacate, the Aztec name of which is pahuatl. The presidente assured us that there was no Totonac town, properly speaking, within the limits of the municipio. For all this district, Orozco y Berra makes many errors. Atla, which he lists as Totonac, is really Aztec. The presidente, upon a local map, showed us the interesting way in which natural barriers limit idioms. Two little streams, coming together at an acute angle, may divide three languages—one being spoken in the angle and one on either side. In Tlaxco, a small village in this municipio, four idioms are spoken—Aztec, Otomi, Totonac and Tepehua.
Two years before, just as my work was ending, we were in the great Otomi town of Huixquilucan, in the state of Mexico. While resting at midday, I noticed a neatly-dressed and clean young indian, plainly not Otomi, with whom I conversed. He was an Aztec, and much interested in the work we were doing. In our conversation, he told me that I would find much of interest in the state of Hidalgo, and particularly called my attention to the making of paper from bark, which he had observed in the town of San Gregorio, two years before. This particularly interested me, and I then made notes regarding the method of getting to San Gregorio. I was advised by him, in case of going to that place, to talk with Don Pablo Leyra, of Huehuetla, who was himself an Indian and a man of consequence in the district—a sort of cacique among his people. Several years ago, I had first learned from Señor Eurosa, a Mexican Protestant clergyman, that in the little town of Tlacuilotepec, there still survive interesting pagan practices. In planning our present journey, I had arranged to visit San Gregorio and Tlacuilotepec for the purpose of investigating this manufacture of paper and these pagan customs. Inquiring of the presidente of Pahuatlan about his indians, I asked regarding paper-beating, and discovered that it was done at the nearest indian village of San Pablito, Otomi. We were told that bark of several species of trees was used—jonote, dragon, and mulberry; that the paper is usually made secretly and in-doors; that the passing traveller can hear the sound of light and rapid pounding as he passes through the village; that it is made in every house, and the proper season is when the sap runs, April to June; San Pablito is the only village in the municipio where it is made. It is used in brujería (witchcraft); other paper can be bought much cheaper, but only this kind is serviceable. It is cut into muñecos; representing human beings and horses and other animals, and these are used to work injury to human beings and beasts, being buried in front of the house or in the corral. The judge, who was sitting by, told us that a prisoner brought before him for trial was found to carry such a paper figure, which was sewed through the body with thread and had its lips sewed also; he learned that this figure represented himself, and that the lips were sewed to prevent him from pronouncing judgment on the prisoner. They assured me that the nearest point for finding Totonacs or Tepehuas, in sufficient numbers for my purpose, was in the district of Tenango del Doria, where, at Huehuetla, we would find the largest Tepehua town, and that in Pantepec, which is in the district of Hauchinango, and near Huehuetla, we would find Totonacs. We had had such ill success in locating Totonacs so far, that, at our suggestion, they telephoned to the jefe at Tenango inquiring regarding the populations of Huehuetla and Pantepec, with the result that we decided to visit those towns.
At Tulancingo, we had been snubbed by the jefe, who would not treat with us outside of office hours. When the presidente of Pahuatlan took us to the house where arrangements had been made for our accommodation, we found a garrulous, simple-minded, individual who was set to clear our room and make our beds. To myself, as leader of the company, he was attentive and ceremonious in the highest degree, and on several occasions he took my companions to task for their ignorance regarding the proper deference to display toward me. He inquired whether we were acquainted with Señor Arroyo, jefe politico of Tulancingo, and then informed us, with pride that that gentleman was his "Señor Padre." "If so, Señors, you may well ask why you see me thus dressed in calzoncillos. For two reasons: first, I am not a legitimate son, no, Señors, my lady mother, who bore me was an Otomi indian, but I am the acknowledged illegitimate son of my honored Señor Padre. Second, I had the misfortune to be involved in trouble in the district of Del Doria, which forced me to flee from that district to escape the jefe. But, sir, my Señor Padre said to me, 'son, I am the jefe politico of Tulancingo and the governor of the State is Pedro L. Rodriguez; I am his intimate friend, and we shall succeed in ousting that jefe in Tenango del Doria who has ordered your arrest.'" He also told us of one time, when his Señor Padre and an inspector visited that unfortunate district as an investigating committee, and found the jefe guilty and put him in jail incomunicado. He also told us of the band of Pahuatlan, justly famous, which made so great an impression in one town it visited, that it determined to go to Tulancingo to serenade the jefe of that district, his honored Señor Padre. "And I was invited, sir, not that I am a musician or know one note from another, but because I am of the family of the gentleman who was to be honored, and as a mark of distinguished favor to both members of the family. The band played so beautifully, that it was not allowed to stop until half-past-eleven at night, when it retired in great triumph." All this was very interesting, the first time it was told us, but the natural son remained while we ate supper, and afterwards, following us to our sleeping-room, kept up the repetition until two were already in bed and asleep and the others wished to be, when, finally, we turned him out and locked the door upon him for the night. We have stated that we paid for four animals to bring our baggage hither, while but three were actually employed; the animals, both pack and passenger, started on their journey for Huachinango at half-past-four in the afternoon, though we had paid both beast and man two full days' wages.
Tlacuilotepec is a dependency of Pahuatlan. We started for our day's trip thither on a good lot of animals, at eight o'clock in the morning, with two foot mozos for carriers. The journey was delightful. For a little, we followed a trail down the left-hand bank of a fine ravine. Nearly at the foot we struck to the left, through a little cut, and were surprised to find ourselves upon the right-hand slope of another gulf of immense depth. A few minutes later, we reached the point where the two streams united. And from there on, for a long time, we followed the bottom of a great gorge. The rock walls were bold and often sheer, and the upper line of mountain horizon was graceful and varied. The cliffs were mostly limestone, and presented remarkable examples of folding and dislocation. The long roots of trees, following exposed rock surfaces downward for yards, and twisting and bending to find lodgment in the crevices, were curious. Great tufts of a plant with long, narrow, light-green leaves hung down along vertical rock faces. In little caverns, at the foot of cliffs, were damp spots filled with ferns and broad-leaved caladiums, and brilliant clusters of begonias in bloom. At several places, the water of springs or underground streams gushed forth, in natural rock-basins, or from under projecting ledges. At one spot, there was a dainty basin of limestone into which a pretty veil of spring water fell gracefully. We crossed and recrossed the stream many times. Everywhere we were within sound of the creaking sugar-mills, and in sight of the ladling of boiled sap; everywhere we met arrieros driving animals loaded with little loaves of native sugar; everywhere the forest was broken with little patches of sugar-cane, growing on the slopes. Here and there, we saw cables slung across the streams, for passing cargoes at high water. At one place was a fine display of basaltic columns, the position of which was horizontal, the flow having come up as a sheet injected from below, and not as a surface out-flow, where the jointage would have been vertical. Finally, leaving this beautiful ravine, we made a rapid ascent, passing a little village consisting almost wholly of a school, noisy with study, and a church, with a separate square tower. Shortly after reaching the summit, and dipping slightly, we found Tlacuilotepec. It is not a large town. At its center mestizo, it has charge of several indian villages. We had been referred for information concerning surviving paganism to a Señor Martinez. We were interested in finding that the presidente of the town was a brother of this gentleman, and that both were Protestants. We were received with great cordiality, not only on account of our official introduction, but also because we brought an unofficial introduction from Protestant friends. Two charming beds were arranged in the little meeting-place in Señor Martinez's own house, and two others, almost as good, were secured for the others of the party, in the little meson of the village. As we chatted, we were refreshed with a delicious orange-wine, which is made here, and during our days spent with Don Quirino, we had meals fit for a king. The indians under his charge are Otomis, and in one little village, Santa Maria, Totonac. When we came to inquire regarding the pagan practice for which we were searching, we learned that it was peculiar to the Otomis, and formed their annual costumbre—custom. They believe that Montezuma is to come again. Meantime, from him come health, crops, and all good things. Their costumbre is a feast given in his honor, of which he is believed to partake. A jacál—hut—is prepared in a retired spot; a table is constructed full length of the house within, and upon this a feast is spread of which all partake.