Soon after midnight, with a copy of this document in my jacket, and a promise, from the Secretary of War, of an escort for ten leagues, I once more began my journey towards the Pacific Ocean.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
It was quite dark on taking my place in the diligence, but getting comfortably seated, I heard one of the passengers inquire if there was to be an escort; so putting my head out of the window, I asked my man Juan if he had any idea where the troops were concealed? No Señor, no hay!—not a soul to be seen. Bueno! I consoled myself by being sure of meeting them at the garita—and then we came to the gate, but never a sabre visible! Malditos were of no avail. Señor Rosa, in a multiplicity of negocios had forgotten me! Truly, I was scared out of sleep the first few posts, but at last my eyelids gained the day—I sailed away in the land of dreams, and never awoke until reaching Salamanca—much refreshed and decidedly happy not to have been rifled by ladrons.
It was four o'clock and raining heavily as we drove into the cellar, as it were, of the sky-built city of Guanajuato. The water was bounding and leaping down the naked sides of the hills, converting every narrow gully into a boiling torrent, until cascades and rivulets all poured into the deep valley beneath, and went roaring and foaming away, increasing in bulk and impetuosity at every gorge, to feed some rapid river in the plains beyond. I was intently occupied speculating upon the chances whether the diligence would be swept along with other floating matter, or ultimately stranded on dry land; for not long before, one of these same vehicles had been caught in a freshet—carried some distance, drowning three insides. But fortunately, we steered clear of these dangers by flood and coach—with saturated garments—and were soon safely housed in the comfortable fonda.
Much to my chagrin, the rain prevented a visit to the great mines of La Luz. They are said to be the largest in the world, and well worthy of a sight, employing no less than fifteen thousand workmen, including their families. The owner died in Querétero the day previous to my departure, bequeathing a fortune of twenty millions of dollars to his heirs.
I left Guanajuato before daylight—the heavens were dropping tears, although not sufficiently lacrymose to keep the gorges surcharged, and thus we again escaped coach-wreck. We reached Leon to a late breakfast—there I exchanged the youthful valet Juan for my horse equipments, and having but a single companion in the person of an Englishman bound to Zacatecas, we continued the route: the cocheros swore there were none other than virtuous people in that vicinity and we had no fears of being molested: the road became rocky and uneven—occasionally no beaten track at all—and had not the coach and our bones been constructed of the toughest materials, I imagine neither could have reached Lagos—but we got there at three o'clock, with no more serious mishap than being jolted asleep and awake, at least four or five times in as many minutes.
Our stopping place was a decent little fonda, administered by an old Spaniard. While standing in the gateway I observed two persons, and, from something indescribable in their appearance, immediately accosted them in Anglo-Saxon: they were North Americans, and had resided many years in Mexico: they treated me kindly, and extended every assistance in their power. I visited one and saw as pretty a wife and family as any batchelor might envy. The town itself is extremely pretty—a remarkably handsome church faces the Plaza—the houses elegantly adorned externally in fanciful frescoes, with designs of flowers, wreaths, gardens, and mythological figures, while a branch of the Rio Grande rushes swiftly through the heart of the town, fringed with a profusion of verdant foliage. During my visit the river coursed in two separate channels, divided by a narrow strip of pebbly sand, whereon were hundreds of little nude boys and girls, and women nearly so, bathing and washing in the pools along the shores.
Returning from the walk, we had hardly entered the inn, which looked into the Plaza, when some fifty ragamuffins, armed with many varieties of weapons, but principally broken muskets and naked sabres, passed by; they had music, too, an undeniable drum, which never for a moment ceased being thumped and pounded, during all the proceedings that afterwards transpired. There was to be a Mexican Pronunciamento! The band marched straight to the Quartel near the upper end of the square by the church, where, after much shouting, expostulation, bluster, and reading of proclamations, they induced about five and twenty meagre soldiers, who composed the garrison, to declare in favor of the rebellion; then a number of bottles of strong waters circulated briskly, the mob mingled with the fraternised soldiery, possessed themselves of their muskets, broke up into groups, and filled the air with cries of "Abajo los Yankees! Viva Paredes! Viva la Guerra! Viva El Padre Jarauta!"