A NIGHT AT TEZCUCO.
Soon after I had passed the head of the lake and turned southward, I entered a cultivated country between tilled grounds and little mud villages along the road. These were the representatives of the magnificent cities enumerated by Cortéz. That fine grove of cypresses which had been a landmark all day was now close at hand, and I could form some idea of its great antiquity. But the day was passing away, and it was still uncertain whether I could find safe quarters for the night, where my horse, and the silver plates on my bridle, and the silver mountings of my saddle would be safe. I never own such fancy trifles, but they were on the horse given me at the stable.
A good dinner and a clean bed I did not expect to find, nor could I have found them a year earlier. But the new and enterprising company of Escandon and Co., who now have the possession of the Real del Monte silver mines, of which I shall speak hereafter, had just completed the "Grand House" (Casa Grande) in connection with the salt manufacture, which they carry on here solely for the use of that single mine. It was a neat, one-story residence of dried mud (adobe), and worthy the occupancy of the proudest king of Tezcuco. Though the flagging of the interior court was not all completed, yet the managing partner had taken possession, and it was fitted up according to the most approved style of an Anglo-Saxon residence. As horse and rider passed into the outer court, there stood ready a groom to lead the former into the inner court, where were the stables for the horses, and I entered the house to enjoy the unlooked-for pleasures of English hospitality in this out-of-the-way Indian village.
The resident partner was an Englishman. His connection with the Real del Monte Company extended only to the manufacture of salt. But even this was an extensive affair, and had already absorbed an investment of $100,000, in order to provide the salt used in only one branch of the process of refining silver at that mine. The gentleman was now absent, but his excellent English wife and her brother knew full well how to discharge the duties of host even to an unknown stranger. The dinner was of the best, and there was no lack of appetite after a hard day's ride on a trotting horse. So we all had the prime elements of enjoyment. Entertainment for man and beast is among the highest luxuries to be found by the wayside. It was an equal luxury to my hosts in their isolated residence to receive a visit from one whose only recommendation was that the English language was his native tongue, so that when we retired from the dining-room we had become old acquaintances.
REMAINS OF TEZCUCO.
The King of Tezcuco never knew what it was, on a raw winter's evening, to sit before a bright wood fire, in a fire-place, with feet on fender and tongs in hand, listening to an animated conversation so mixed up of two languages that it was hard to tell which predominated. Not all the stateliness to be found in Mexican palaces, where, in a lordly tapestried halls, men and women sit and shiver over a protracted dinner, can yield pleasures like those grouped around an English fireside. The evening was not half long enough to say all that was to be discussed. As we sat and chatted, and drank our tea with a gusto we had never known before, we forgot altogether that we were indulging in plebeian enjoyments upon the spot where a king's palace had probably stood. Instead of such plebeian things as a wood floor and Brussels carpet, his half-clad majesty had here squatted upon a mat, and dealt out justice or injustice, according to his caprice, to trembling crowds of dirty Indians, whose royal rags and feathers made them princely. Dignity and majesty are truly parts of Indian character, but a good dinner and a clean bed are luxuries that an Indian, even though he were an emperor, never knew.
My business here was to search for relics, and as soon as daylight appeared I was astir. But no relics could be found except some stone images so rudely cut as to be a burlesque upon Indian stone-cutting. There was a sacrificial stone and a calendar stone built into the steps of the church of San Francisco, which were so badly done that the use to which they had been applied could just be made out. Here, too, was a rude stone wall, that had been built over the grave of Don Fernando, the first Christian king of Tezcuco, who had been converted to Christianity by Cortéz. There is also here one of those little chapels which Cortéz built, which indicate extremely limited means in the builder.
At the distance of a bow-shot from this is the site of the "slip" (canal) which Cortéz says he caused to be dug, twelve feet wide and twelve feet deep, in order to float his brigantines. Near by, the Indians were digging a new canal for the little steam-boat which now plies on the laguna. When they reached a point less than three feet from the surface, they were stopped by the water. How could Cortéz, under greater disadvantages, dig to the depth of twelve feet, without even iron shovels?
I returned to the hacienda and inquired if there were no other relics. The proprietor assured me that he had been unable to find any except the Indian mounds which he showed me, and some stone cellar steps that he had found in digging. And this is all that now remains of the great and magnificent city of Tezcuco, which had entered into alliance with Cortéz, and which, for more than a hundred years after the Conquest, was under the especial care of a Superintendent sent from Spain, as an Indian Reservation.
There are here eight Franciscan monks and a convent; seven of these monks I was assured were living at home with their families and children, but the eighth, who happened to be a cripple, lived in the convent. A major in the guard was pointed out to me, who, having committed a murder, took sanctuary in the church, where he remained several days, when—and we have his own word for it—the Virgin Mary appeared to him and freely forgave him. On this news getting abroad, there was great rejoicing in Tezcuco that the Virgin had at last visited them. From being stigmatized as a murderer, the object of this visit was almost adored as a saint, and became one of the principal men of the village, and was created a major in the new corps.