Seven years before my arrival in Mexico, I once had an opportunity of meeting with one of this singular race; but, from want of familiarity with Spanish, I could not well understand his peculiar dialect.
As soon as I awoke in the morning, I was reminded, by the handsome and elegant dress of my host, that it was the fête-day of Manantial. A twisted fringe, strung with Venetian pearls, and studded at regular distances with little mirrors, ran round his hat; his shirt, of the finest linen, was embroidered in the most beautiful manner; the buttons of his velvet calzonera at his girdle were made of solid piastres, and those which ran down his legs of reals and half reals. On his feet were half-boots of Cordovan leather. His cortante,[58] polished to the highest degree of brilliancy, hung suspended from his girdle of scarlet silk, and two bows of the same color adorned its hilt. Set out thus to the best advantage, the Jarocho had an air of refinement about him which augured well for his success.
In spite of a degree of satisfaction which shone upon his countenance, Calros could not help twirling the end of his mustache with an anxious expression. His joy seemed to be mixed with an alloy of bitterness. I asked him the cause of it.
"Ah! if you could only free me of my vow of vengeance, I should be relieved of a charge which will embitter, I fear, all my pleasures."
"What! will your oath keep you from drinking, singing, and playing?"
"No, but it will hinder me from knocking a fellow down; and what is a fandango without some little quarrel to enliven it? No matter; one can not have all one's pleasures at once. I shall sing louder, play more, and drink as much as will soothe me for the disappointment."
I doubted much the calming efficacy of Catalonian brandy, but I affected to believe fully in the power of the remedy.
Manantial, like the Jarocho, had put on its holiday garb for the occasion. An unusual stir was visible in the village. At the doors of the cabins, women, arrayed in abundance of muslin and lace, appeared from time to time, decked with gold and coral ornaments, so dear to the swarthy beauties of Southern countries. In a glade, an estrade had been erected for the accommodation of the dancers; little shops had been improvised for the supply of water, tepache, and Catalonian brandy; gambling-tables had been set up. In a few hours the Jarochos from the surrounding villages would come pouring in. The sun was shining full upon the spot in all its dazzling brilliancy. The shadow cast by the palm-trees, already a little off the perpendicular, showed that it was two hours past noon. Crowds of horsemen now began to arrive, who, after alighting, tied their foaming steeds to the trunks of the trees or the pillars of the houses. Horses and men were soon mingled together in strange confusion; the cries of the men, the neighing of the steeds, and the tuning of guitars, were now heard on all sides. Circles were speedily formed round the gambling-tables, the ventorillos,[59] or the estrade reserved for the female dancers. Here I stationed myself.
The estrade, on which female dancers were alone to figure, was elevated a few inches above the ground. According to a singular custom prevailing in all the villages round Vera Cruz, the men on this occasion are mere spectators of the women's performances. A Jarocho squatted himself down on the ground close to the estrade, and commenced strumming his mandolin. Eight or ten girls answered to his call, and began to dance. I could not help admiring the graceful dexterity with which many of them carried a glass of water on their heads without spilling a drop, dancing, too, all the while with the greatest vigor; or the agility with which they untied, without using their hands, the silk bows attached to their shoes,[60] When this dance, very coldly applauded, was finished, the guitar struck up a new tune, that of the dance called petenera.