We passed Buena Vista, the fine sugar estate of M. Comonfort, and Aquaguisotla, and slept at Mazatlan, and the next day arrived at the famous city of Chilpanzingo, or City of the Bravos, the centre and focus of the insurrection in the southern provinces. Here, in the public square or plaza, in front of a church built by Cortéz, there was a grand bull-fight, or rather ox-fight, in which great efforts were made to infuse some life into a dozen stupid cattle. These efforts were attended with very indifferent success. A deep barranca extends to the Mescala, the largest river in Southern Mexico, across which we passed on a raft of gourds, propelled by two naked Indians, who swam across, each holding in his right hand a corner of the raft.
AN ILL-CLAD JUDGE.
The next night, after dark, I arrived at a little village, and turned into an open caravansary. The old man of the establishment was very kind, and offered me a mat to lie on, but he had no corn for my horse. After making some inquiries that were a little unpleasant for a man who was traveling without a passport to answer, he said he would procure for me some corn from the alcalde. This village magistrate, who, in the absence of the "Judge of First Instance," is ex officio a judge, was an enormous negro, over six feet in height, whose dignity was not certainly dependent upon his official robes, for a single napkin constituted his whole apparel. He sat upon an ox-skin, which did duty for the wool-sack—the very personification of the majesty of the law, with curled wig, and hide as black as the gown of the Lord Chief Justice, with the advantage that both were natural. This was the second negro I had yet seen in the country. The other held a commission as captain in the army, and was in the escort of General Garay.
I had a hard day's ride to reach the city of Iguala in time to witness the celebration of the independence, which was proclaimed here in 1821. The celebration, for the most part, consisted in eating and drinking from booths placed around the central square of the town. As I had little time to spare, I hurried on, and soon came to the Puente de Iztla, the carriage-road, that is finished thus far southward from the city of Mexico.
I started early next morning upon my journey. During the greater part of the day the road led through a continuous corn-field, and toward evening we came to the pretty Indian village of Alpayuca, so neat and well-ordered that it might have passed for one of the missionary Indian villages of our northern Indians, were it not for the fine old Catholic church, which must have cost in its construction, centuries ago, fifty times the value of the present village, without including the cost of the bronze railing, brought from China in the prosperous days of the Manilla Company.
CUARNAVACA.
Not stopping to examine the ruins of great antiquity near this place, I rode on six leagues farther, when I arrived at the venerable city of Cuarnavaca, the place selected by Cortéz as the finest spot in all New Spain. This was bestowed upon him, at his own request, by the Emperor Charles V. as a residence. It merits to this day the distinction that has been given to it as one of the finest spots on earth. It stands close under the shadow of the huge mountains that shield it from the northern blast, and it is at the same time protected from the extreme heat of the tropics by its elevation of 3000 feet. The immense church edifices here proclaim the munificence of Cortéz, while the garden of Laborde, open to the world, shows with what elegant taste he squandered his three several fortunes accumulated in mining. The combination of a fine day in a voluptuous climate, the beautiful scenery, and the happy faces of the people celebrating New Year's day in the shade of the orange-trees, made an impression upon a traveler not easily forgotten.
I was too near the city of Mexico to remain long here, and I rode on, up the zigzag way that leads over the mountain rim of the Valley of Mexico. I was not fortunate enough to accomplish the journey from city to city in a single day, and, from necessity, had to pass the night at the half-way house, upon the summit of the mountain, 10,000 feet above the sea. A poor Hungarian, who had been detained here like myself, came and laid his blankets with mine, and then we lay down, and chattered and shivered together until the morning. Such a night as this detracts somewhat from the enjoyments of this otherwise pleasant journey; but when I got a morning view of the valley and city of Mexico from the Cross of the "Marquis of the Valley," the sufferings of the chilly night were soon forgotten.
CHAPTER XIII.