2 Cortés, in his Letters, writes the name of the Emperor of Mexico, Muteczuma. Humboldt says, I know not on what authority, that Moteuczoma was his name. The English historians always call him Montezuma.
This identical image, they say, still exists—it is about eight inches in height—it is richly decorated. It is believed to possess the power of bringing rain, and of staying the ravages of disease.
For many days previous to her entrance into the city, great preparations had been made. On the 11th inst. she was conveyed from her sanctuary in the President's coach, which was driven by a nobleman of the old regime, the Marques de Salvatierra, bare headed, and attended by a large number of coaches, and crowds of people on foot, to the parroquia de Santa Vera Cruz, a church just within the limits of the city. Here, as is usual, she was to rest one night, and on the following evening to proceed to the Cathedral. Before the appointed time, the streets leading to it were covered with canopies of canvass; draperies were suspended from every balcony, and strings of shawls and handkerchiefs stretched across, were seen fluttering in the wind. A regiment of troops marched out to form her escort, and thousands flocked to join her train. But a heavy rain began to fall, and the procession was necessarily postponed, the populace being delighted to find that the intercession of Our Lady was of so much avail, and their faith strengthened at the trifling expense of wet jackets. The procession was now appointed for an early hour the next morning, (a prudent arrangement, for it rains, in course, every evening, the rainy season having commenced,) and preparations were again made with increased zeal, proportionate with the gratitude felt at so prompt a dispensation of her Ladyship's favors. Two regiments of infantry and one of cavalry now composed the escort. The concourse of people was immense. Wax tapers, lanterns, candle-boxes, flags, and all the frippery of the churches were carried to grace the occasion; children dressed fantastically, with wings, and gay decorations upon their heads, but barefooted, with tapers in their hands, were led by their parents or nurses to take part in the pageant.
After the procession was formed, a discharge of artillery announced the departure of the holy image from the church, in which she had until now rested. The advance was a corps of cavalry, followed by flocks of ragged Indians, by respectable citizens and the civil authorities, all bearing lighted wax tapers; then followed the numerous religious orders, each order preceded by an Indian carrying on his back a huge mahogany candle-box; the higher dignitaries of the order, with their hands meekly folded on their breasts, each attended by two assistants, bringing up the rear of Carmelites, Augustines, Franciscans, Dominicans, and Mercedarians; next these were other Indians, followed by the angelic little children, who strew roses before the object of their adoration, La Santa Virgen de los Remedios, who stands majestically under a canopy, richly clothed, and surrounded by gilded ornaments, supported by four men. As she passed, the people who crowded the streets, and all who fill the windows under which she is carried, knelt, and roses are showered upon her from the roofs of the houses. Next her was another canopy, under which the Host was carried, to which the people also knelt. The troops brought up the rear, escorting Our Lady to the Cathedral, where she remains nine days. If it rain during this time, it is ascribed to her influence. If rain precede her entrance, it is because she was to be brought into the city; and if it follow her departure, it is the consequence of her late presence. The miracle, of course, never fails. After the rainy season has set in, she is introduced annually for the idolatrous worship of this ignorant, superstitious people—not only the canaille, but also the most respectable portion of the community.
14th August, 1825. I returned to the city yesterday after an excursion of a week in the vicinity of Chalco, about twenty-five or thirty miles distant. We were invited by an acquaintance to his hacienda, where he promised fine sport with our guns. Not content with abundance of deer, we were to return with the spoils of sundry wild animals, such as wild-cats, bears, panthers, wolves and tigers. Prepared for ferocious contests, we set out with all the eagerness of huntsmen who feast in their imagination on their slaughtered prey. But in fact, though to hunt was our ostensible object, from which we expected little, although entertained by our friend with extravagant hopes, we left the city chiefly for the purpose of exercise, of viewing the country, and avoiding the water, which, at this season of the year, impregnated with the soda which the heavy rains disengage from the soil, deals sadly with strangers.
A ride of five or six hours brought us to the hacienda. This, I have elsewhere said, is a country seat, generally of large extent, with a chapel forming a part of the building, and surrounded by the reed or mud huts of the Indians, who are the laborers, or, as it were, vassals of the estate. A plain, thickly strewed with these haciendas, presents the appearance of numerous villages, each with its steeple and bell. The buildings are hollow squares, extensive and commodious, and embracing in their several ranges the usual conveniences of a farm, such as stables, and yards for poultry, sheep and cattle. They all have a look of antiquity, of strength and durability, which, at a distance, is imposing; but on nearer view, they are commonly found dilapidated, and devoid of neatness, and destitute of the garden and the orchard, which give so much the appearance of comfort to the country houses of the United States.
This is their general character, as far as I have seen them, and such was the commodious dwelling to which we were now hospitably invited. It bore the air of tattered grandeur—in its dimensions and in its ruined state showing marks of pristine elegance. It was partially fortified, as were most of them, during the revolution, for protection from lawless depredation, and from the numerous bands of banditti who then roamed through the country, and were royalists or republicans, as was most expedient to accomplish their designs. Even at this time, these defences are esteemed necessary to ensure safety from the robbers who have escaped the vigilance of government by concealing themselves in the adjacent mountains.
On the day of our arrival nothing occurred particularly to attract our notice, except that, after the conclusion of dinner, the tall Indian waiter fell upon his knees in the middle of the room and gave thanks—a custom common, I am told, in the country. To our surprise, this was not repeated. He was either told that we were heretics, (as all foreigners are designated) or was deterred because some of our Catholic friends were less devout on the occasion than was to be expected from them.
It may not be amiss here to mention, that the dinner table of the Mexicans is of indefinite length, always standing in the eating room. One end only is commonly used. The seat of honor is at the head, where the most distinguished and most honored guest is always placed; the rest arrange themselves according to their rank and consequence; the dependants occupying the lowest seats.