The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.

RAMBLES in YUCATAN

MOON LIGHT,
UXMAL RUINS.

RAMBLES in YUCATAN

INCLUDING

A VISIT TO THE REMARKABLE RUINS

OF

CHI-CHEN, Kahbah, ZAYI, UXMAL &c.

[Illustration: SISAL.]

BY B. M. NORMAN.

NEW•YORK,

J. & H. G. LANGLEY, 57 CHATHAM STREET.

MDCCCXLIII.

RAMBLES in YUCATAN;

OR,

NOTES OF TRAVEL THROUGH THE PENINSULA,

INCLUDING

A VISIT TO THE REMARKABLE RUINS

OF

CHI-CHEN, Kahbah, ZAYI, AND UXMAL.

WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS.

BY B. M. NORMAN.

SECOND EDITION.

NEW YORK:

J. & H. G. LANGLEY, 57 CHATHAM STREET.

PHILADELPHIA: THOMAS, COWPERTHWAIT, & CO.

NEW ORLEANS: NORMAN, STEEL, & CO.

MDCCCXLIII.

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1842,

By J. & H. G. LANGLEY,

in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Southern District

of New York.

STEREOTYPED BY REDFIELD AND SAVAGE,

13 Chambers street, N. Y.

R. CRAIGHEAD, PRINTER, 112 FULTON ST.

PREFACE.

To those who intend to bestow upon the following pages the honor of a perusal, it may seem almost supererogatory for the author to mention, that it has formed no part of his purpose to prepare a book which should owe its leading interest to its literary merits. His life has been necessarily more devoted to the dissemination of books than to the study of their internal fabrication; he has had but slender opportunities for the cultivation of letters, and little of the preparation requisite for a task, to the results of which he now solicits the candid consideration of the public.

Circumstances, however, of which all that is worthy of detail will be found in the following pages, brought under the author’s observation a portion of our continent which was strewed with gigantic and monumental ruins of ancient cities, and which, to the several departments of Cosmogony, Archæology, and Ethnography, appeared in his eyes to be of vast importance. Impressed with this conviction, although the author left his country without the remotest intention of making a book upon any subject whatever, or even of seeing the wonderful places he has attempted to describe, yet, with very inadequate scientific qualifications—without instruments, except a knife and compass, and without a companion, save an Indian boy—entirely ignorant of the country and its people—he was enabled to explore many objects of interest and curiosity; and he has resolved to present the substance of his observations and researches, in as succinct a manner as possible, that those who are competent to avail themselves of his labors may digest and present them to the public in such a form as will most contribute to the advancement of true science.

It is, therefore, to the facts which it has been the author’s privilege to witness and reveal, and not to the garniture of those facts, that he looks, for the interest which he desires to awaken in the minds of his readers, and upon which he relies for his own justification in having for once trespassed ultra crepidam into the charmed circle of literary enterprise. The almost universal curiosity which has manifested itself in every quarter through which public feeling has utterance, concerning the vast and unexplained ruins of our hemisphere, found in Central America and Yucatan, has not been, in modern times at least, excelled by that upon any subject not involving some immediate and practical interest, not even excepting the discoveries of modern antiquarians in Egypt. It is neither the author’s duty nor purpose to analyze this movement, or to discern its cause; it only concerns him to show that he had good reason for presuming that further developments of, and explorations among these mysterious relics of antiquity, could not fail to awaken some portion of that interest which the public mind, in this country at least, has already manifested.

A portion of the ruins which are noticed in detail in the following pages had never been visited, to the author’s knowledge, by any modern traveller before his arrival. Others, which had been summarily alluded to, he has portrayed as elaborately and adequately as his circumstances and scientific qualifications would admit; and, he has no hesitation in saying, far more minutely than they had ever before been described. In corroboration of these remarks, he ventures to call the reader’s attention to the chapters which include the ruins of Chi-Chen, of Kahbah, Zayi, and Uxmal, of which cities, the last only excepted—to which Mr. Stephens devotes a few sentences near the conclusion of his recent popular work upon this subject—no other published accounts, it is believed, have appeared.

The author avails himself of the present opportunity to make those acknowledgments to the people of Yucatan which could not be incorporated with propriety in the body of his work. He feels himself under grateful obligations for the uniform kindness which he received at their hands; and he begs to assure those of his American friends who may feel disposed to visit the province of Yucatan, that whatever inconveniences they may experience indirectly from an unfavorable climate and an unsettled political organization, they may count upon meeting, among the higher ranks of the Yucatecos, a kindliness of feeling and a spontaneity of hospitality which will compare favorably with their experience in any other portion of the globe.

In acknowledging his obligations to the friends who have assisted him in the preparation of these pages, he would be guilty of great injustice did he not tender his most sincere thanks to an American gentleman, who has long resided in Yucatan, to whom he is indebted for most of the facts connected with the political history of that country, which are embodied in the thirteenth chapter. The long residence of that gentleman in the country, and his evident familiarity with its political history, give the author reason to rely implicitly upon his acquaintance with the subject, as well as upon his fidelity as an historian.

The author regrets that he is not permitted to give the name of the gentleman to whose aid he is indebted for the philological remarks contained in the fourteenth chapter, which he ventures to believe will prove to the scholar and the antiquarian not the least interesting feature of the work.

It has been the author’s intention upon all occasions to acknowledge his indebtedness to any preceding or cotemporary writer in appropriate modes and places in the text, and he believes that he has seldom failed in his aim; at the same time, he feels that to Waldeck, a distinguished French traveller, who spent a number of years in Central America and Yucatan, his obligations are of a character not to be passed over without a special acknowledgment.

The illness of the writer during the time the following pages were passing through the press, must constitute his apology, should inaccuracies be found to disfigure the work.

The Map is intended to show the geographical position of the ruins, and of the towns passed through before arriving at them; and the Plans to define the relative locations of the structures, neither of them, however, is laid out with scientific exactness; it is hoped, nevertheless, they will still be found sufficiently correct to illustrate the descriptions.

If the public shall find the work now submitted to them possessed of sufficient merit to deserve their regard, or if others shall be induced, by reading it, to extend their researches in a similar direction, or shall, through its aid, eliminate one new ray of light to illumine the dark mystery of its subject, the author will feel amply compensated for the trouble he has taken, and will think himself entitled to indulge the assurance that his life has not been altogether without profit.

New Orleans, November, 1842.

CONTENTS.

APPENDIX.

LIST OF EMBELLISHMENTS.

Map of Yucatan Mexico
(click on map for larger version.)

RAMBLES IN YUCATAN.

CHAPTER I.

Setting Out—Accommodations—Arrival at Sisal—Geographical and Political view of Yucatan—A Christening—Lady Smokers—Off for the Interior—Merida—A Feast-day—Christmas Eve—Christmas Day—Conclusion of a Feast—Holy Unction—Indian Character—Soldiers’ Return—Holy Days—Gaming.

The prospect of leaving one’s country for a season, affects different people in very different ways. To some, it suggests only the loss of friends, and the want of the conveniences which habit may have made to them the necessaries of life. By their formidable equipments, their groaning trunks, and systematic leave-takings, they intimate a foregone conclusion, that every nation except their own is peopled with Ishmaelites, whose hands are ever raised against the rest of mankind. There is another class, who have faith in man wherever he exists, and who rely upon the permanence of the laws of Nature; who do not imagine that a man is necessarily a cannibal or a troglodyte because born in a different degree of latitude, nor that water will refuse to run down hill at a foreigner’s request. Through their confidence in the uniformity of Nature’s laws, they feel it unnecessary to equip themselves for a campaign into chaos when they leave their native land, always presuming every corner of this planet, however remote from the illuminating centres of civilization, to be possessed of some of the elements of existence, such as air, fire, water, &c., which a traveller may spare himself the trouble of bringing from home in his trunk. With the latter class, kind reader, the author of the following notes deserves to be associated. He would require nothing but a valise to contain his outfit for a circumnavigation of the globe, and would include the moon in his circuit, if practicable, without materially enlarging his equipage, except, perhaps, by some device that would diminish the inconveniences of a rarefied atmosphere. This faith in the future, this trust in the resources which a mind of ordinary intelligence can always command under any sun and in any clime, sustained the writer in his determination, last fall, to visit some of the islands of the West India seas, almost without notice, and with scarcely more preparation than a domestic man would deem essential for an absence from home of a single week. The cork-legged merchant of Rotterdam did not commence his journeyings more unexpectedly to himself, nor less formidably panoplied against the emergencies of his unfortunate tour. To the writer’s unpreparedness, a term which, in such cases, usually signifies freedom from anxiety, he feels indebted for most of the pleasure which this excursion has afforded him; and he has only cause to regret the want of more elaborate preparation, inasmuch as it may have deprived these pages of a portion of their interest and value.

It was at the conclusion of the long and frightful season of epidemic disease, which caused many a desolated home in New Orleans to be hung with cypress during the summer of the year 1841, and on the 26th day of November, that I embarked from the Crescent city for Havana. My original intention had been, to visit the Windward Islands; but, not finding the facilities of intercommunication which I had anticipated, and excited by the curiosity of seeing a region of country of which but little is known to citizens of the United States, I was induced to change my contemplated route. Accordingly, after a detention of ten days in Cuba, where I had passed some of the happiest days of my youth, I resolved to embrace the first opportunity that presented itself to run down to the coast of Mexico. I was soon enabled to secure a passage on board of a Spanish brig bound to Sisal, of which I was prompt to avail myself.

Early on the morning of the 9th of December, we slipped by the Moro Castle with a fine breeze, and had but just effected a good offing when the vessel was suddenly hove to, much to our surprise and alarm, and without any apparent reason. Our alarms were soon dispelled, however, by the welcome intelligence, through the cabin-boy, that “breakfast was ready!” Our own countrymen are not indifferent to the “family comforts,” and the English relish still less any interruption at their meals; but with the Spaniard eating seems to have risen to the importance of a religious ceremony. Heaving to for breakfast, in a Yankee craft, would be looked at with astonishment by an American tar—we question if it would not cancel the ship’s insurance policy. Every country, however, has its customs, and this is one peculiar to the flag under which we were now sailing. The meal happily ended, the yards were squared away, and the brig quietly pursued her course.

The cabin formed a part of the hold, without berths, bulk-heads, tables, or chairs. Planks were laid down for our accommodation, upon which our mattresses were distributed, the cargo forming sides, which, as the vessel rolled, served to retain us in our places. There were eight Mexican fellow-passengers, perfect out-and-outers in the way of eating, sleeping, and smoking, which they seemed to consider the ends for which they lived and moved and had their being. The captain proved to be a right good sailor, and his vessel, which was dignified by the name of a packet, shall be suffered to pass without censure, as deserving a better fate than awaited Sodom, in having at least one good man on board in the person of her excellent commander. After eleven days of continually pleasant weather we arrived in sight of the port of Sisal, on the north-west coast of Yucatan, on the 20th of the month; and, as the bills of lading might conscientiously have testified, “in good order and well-conditioned.”

This coast presents a line of shore scarcely merging from the ocean, with no distinguishing highland to conduct the mariner to his destined port. The unpretending little town to which our course was directed, at this time, however, very innocently on its own part, loomed up from the horizon to an immense height, and it was not until we had approached very near the land that our false impressions were corrected.

We came to anchor about two miles from the shore, that being as near as it was deemed prudent for vessels of our burden to venture. A felucca, manned by three Indians, now boarded us, for the purpose of receiving the passengers. The place of landing was a long pier-head, loosely put together, composed of spiles and plank, the only one in the harbor where the imports and exports are received and shipped. When once fairly on terra firma, we all started under the escort of our worthy captain for a public house, followed by a retinue of Indians, that gave us for a time at least the consequential appearance of Eastern nabobs. This numerous troop belonged professionally to the class which in our Northern cities besiege the wharves upon the arrival of a steamboat, as hackmen, porters, dock loafers, &c., but in justice to the Indians be it observed, that they are much less clamorous and more civil than their more pretentious brethren of the North.

Early on the morning of our arrival, our baggage was sent to the custom-house; but the politeness of the gentlemen attached to that establishment made the examination a matter of mere form. This civility is acknowledged with the greater pleasure, in consequence of its having been accorded without solicitation, and contrary to our expectation.

With the permission of my reader I will here step aside, for one moment, from the detail of my ramblings, to say a single word about the geographical and political condition of the country in which I now found myself a denizen, pledging myself, however, to detain the narrative upon nothing which will not be pertinent to and explanatory of the subsequent pages.

The peninsula of Yucatan extends over a surface of some eighty thousand square miles, lying in a north-east direction from Laguna de Términos, and jutting out north into the Gulf of Mexico, between the Bay of Campeachy and Honduras. It is about five hundred miles long, and one hundred and sixty broad, and is divided into five departments, eighteen districts, and containing two hundred and thirty-six towns. It is inhabited by something short of half a million of people, the majority of whom are Indians.

The country is almost one entire plain, half of which, to the north, consists of a light soil formed upon solid and broken masses of a white lime and flint rock. The other, the southern half, is a deep rich loam, but much affected by the heavy rains of summer, which present serious obstructions to the exertions of the agriculturist. There are no rivers in the interior. The inhabitants are supplied with water from sonatos, or natural wells, which are liberally distributed throughout the country by the formation of supposed subterraneous rivers.

Yucatan was formerly a part of the Mexican confederacy, but having recently declared her independence, she has her own President and Congress of legislators, elected by a limited class of qualified electors. Various attempts have been made, by menaces and by offers of negotiation on the part of the Mexicans, to reduce the refractory provincials to their allegiance, but hitherto without success. The deficiency of means, and the distracted condition of the Confederacy at home, have doubtless prevented the Mexicans from qualifying their diplomacy with physical force, which is probably the only kind of logic that will be conclusive.

Sisal, the place (as I have already mentioned) at which I disembarked, is situated upon the north-west side of the peninsula of Yucatan, and is the second port of the province. It presents an open roadstead, which, during the prevalence of the northerly winds, is considered very dangerous. The continuance of these storms frequently compels vessels to get under way and stand out to sea. The town has little of interest to strangers. Its population is about one thousand, consisting principally of Indians, and the residue are Mexicans. The houses are built of stone, are one story high, covering a large space of ground, with a court in the centre, embellished with trees and plants of the tropics. The roofs of the dwellings being thatched, give to the streets a somewhat singular aspect to strangers. The rooms of these buildings are large and airy, and their floors are formed of mortar and sand. Glass is not used; but large openings are formed, protected by gratings and doors, which admit the necessary supply of light and air.

Near the beach is a small square fortification, rudely constructed and oddly enough garrisoned, if one may judge from the appearance of the soldiers upon guard. The Indians, who exclusively perform the menial services required throughout the country, seem to be happy and contented. Their wants are few and simple. The men wear loose white cotton trousers, extending a little below the knee, with a shirt of the same, or striped gingham, a palm-leaf hat and sandals. The women wear a simple loose dress hanging from the shoulders, loose about the neck, and falling negligently to the ankles. These garments are more or less ornamented with needle-work, according to the taste or the means of the wearer.

Although so near home, this scene was so entirely new to me, that I was exceedingly anxious to get a glimpse of the surrounding country. Unsuccessful, however, in finding an immediate conveyance to Merida, the capital of the province, we loitered about the town during the day, but could not discover any very especial signs of business. Every thing appeared to be dull and inanimate.

In the evening we were invited, through the politeness of the Collector of the Port, to attend the baptismal ceremony of his infant. The priest was early at his post, and the whole population of Indians was soon collected about the dwelling, and preparations were made for a grand procession to the church, where the child was to be baptized. Every thing being in readiness, the whole mass started, led off by half-breed Indians and boys, making all kinds of discordant sounds, with drums, horns, and whistles; then the priest and the parents, with the child dressed out with flowers and ribands, and gold and silver ornaments; after these came the relations and friends, followed by the multitude. When they had arrived at the church, the performances were conducted in the usual Catholic style. The child appeared to be the only one who had any cause of complaint. The rough hands of the priest, and the continual pouring of cold water upon its delicate head, fully justified its boisterous protestations against such harsh treatment. Its restoration to the arms of its mother seemed to give great satisfaction to all parties present, except perhaps to the deaf and the blind.

The company now returned to the house. On the route, small pieces of silver coin were distributed among the Indians. The evening was spent, as is the custom on such occasions, in the greatest hilarity; and none appeared to enjoy it with a better relish than the priest. Dancing was kept up till nine o’clock, when supper was announced. The ladies being seated, a place was assigned to me by the side of the divine, to whom I had previously been introduced. This secured to me a seat in the vicinity of the choicest wit as well as wine, that was in circulation; for, after paying his respects once or twice to the wine that was before him, his good humor and sociability soon convinced me that he would not willingly become the victim of too rigid fastings and carnal mortifications.

Supper being over, dancing was resumed. Those ladies and gentlemen who were not upon the floor, were smoking. The ladies here are general smokers; and do it, too, with a grace which, to a smoker, is a study. At first, it appeared rather strange to receive, from the delicate fingers of a female, a lighted cigar, yet fresh with the flavor which her own lips had imparted to it; but, with such tuition, we were quickly qualified to assume the customs of the country, and we now flatter ourselves that we can go through all that delicate etiquette with as much ease as though we were “to the manner born.” The ladies were dressed in the Spanish style, and appeared quite charming; they chiefly require animation. Their complexion is rather brunette, their hair dark, eyes black; and, generally, they are of a low stature.

We withdrew from the party at an early hour, after presenting our sincere congratulations to the mother of the “orator of the day,” and bidding adieu to the hospitable family. Once more in the street, we were lost in meditation. The incidents of the day came into review before us—the first day that we had passed here among strangers in a strange land. We found ourselves absolutely regretting to part from friends of an hour’s creation. He who has wandered much in the world may have experienced similar sensations. These are some of the transitory passages, “the sunny spots” of life, which memory most dearly cherishes. They are snatched, as it were, from the dull round of existence, and are sanctified by the unexpected gratification that attends them. These are a part of the items that constitute what man calls happiness—the jewels, no doubt; and we shall make them lawful prize wherever and whenever they fall in our way. These reflections brought us to our lodgings, where preparations were yet to be made for our departure for Merida the next morning; and, in spite of old philosophy or new acquaintance,

“The hour approaches, Tam maun ride.”

At nine o’clock in the morning my conveyance was ready at the door. It was a rude vehicle, called here a calesa, somewhat resembling the old-fashioned New England chaise, but as heavy and uncouth as wood and trappings could make it. The machine was drawn by three mules abreast, attached to it by plaited ropes. All the preparations having been completed, we started under whip and spur, Jehu-like, rattling over the rocks, to the no small hazard of bones and baggage. Fortunately, this speed did not continue long. The road, for two miles, was overflowed; and the Indian guide was necessarily compelled to direct his team with a greater degree of circumspection.

The road, for the first sixteen miles, was over a low marshy country, partially Macadamized, and raised in the form of a causeway; rather rough, but smooth compared with very many of our own, even in the State of New York. The sides were filled in with brush-wood as far as Hunucuma, about sixteen miles from Sisal. We stopped here, at noon, two hours, to give our faithful mules an opportunity to refresh, after a sultry morning’s travel. This pleasant village stands about half way between Sisal and Merida, and is surrounded by beautiful shrubbery. From this town, which possesses little interest to the foreign tourist, the open country appears to advantage; but it is not under a high state of cultivation. The road hence to Merida is finished in a style that would have done credit to the imperial enterprise of Hadrian. We passed through several small villages, occupied principally by the huts of the Indians, and, at five o’clock in the afternoon of the 22d instant, arrived at the metropolis, thirty-six miles distance from the place of landing, and drove up to the door of the amiable Doña Michaelé, who keeps the only public house in the city—not for her own personal advantage, as she informs her guests, but solely for their accommodation. Blessings on her kind heart, although her professions of philanthropy “something smacked, something grew too,” yet we believed every word of them, and made ourselves perfectly at home in the shortest possible time.

The residence of this lady stands in about the centre of the city, occupying a large space of ground, is one story high, with ranges of rooms and stables, forming a square, which is filled with fruit-trees of the tropics. The rooms are spacious and airy: they have large doors, and balconied windows, grated, but without glass. The floors are laid with stone, set in mortar. Of the Doña and her table, I may be permitted to say, that when I paid my bill I felt that I had cancelled all the obligations which her bounty had imposed upon me. Chocolate, with “panadulza,” a sweet bread made by the nuns, is served early in the morning, according to the general custom of the country; breakfast is ready at nine o’clock, made up of Spanish American dishes, composed of strips of meat, eggs, tortillas, and frejoles, (that is, corncake and black beans,) with coffee and wine. Her guests consisted of two Americans besides myself, who came here to trade, and remained, not to pray, but to be preyed upon by the most dismal prospects—three Mexican officers, who were exiled by Santa Ana; and three Spanish Jews, who were from Havana, with merchandise. Dinner was served at three o’clock. The Doña undoubtedly gave her boarders the best the market afforded, for she certainly exerted herself to render them satisfied with their fare. It would be absurd to enumerate dishes, and to object to the style of cooking because it did not happen to be in accordance with my own preferences or habits. Among the Mexicans of our company, however, it may not be improper to remark, that etiquette in the disposition of their food was but little observed; and knives and forks were unceremoniously thrown aside for the more primitive utensils with which nature had provided them.

The 23d of December was the festival of St. Christoval. It was made, like all the saints’ days in Catholic countries, a gala-day. Measures were taken accordingly, a week previous, to give to this festival its full effect. In front of the church is a large square, around the sides of which were placed poles and staging, forming an amphitheatre, adorned with rude paintings of various animals, and dressed off with flags and evergreens; the area of which was to be the scene of a modern bull-fight. The morning was ushered in by the firing of guns and squibs. The stores were closed, churches opened, bells ringing, and the population was literally emptied into the streets. At twelve o’clock signal rockets were fired, and the gates of the amphitheatre, which appeared to be the principal point of attraction, were thrown open, and a bull was led in by four Indians. Indians, mounted on horses, attacked him with spears, whilst others goaded him almost to madness with barbed sticks. A great noise was made with drums and horns, and by the acclamations of the audience, composed of ladies and gentlemen of Merida and its vicinity. The major part, however, of the assembly was composed of Indians. This portion of the festival was continued during the day; at the close of which the amphitheatre was deserted, and the neighboring houses were filled with people, abandoning themselves to the excitements of every variety of games, and to the dance.

This was the first bull-bait I had ever witnessed, and the impression it left upon me I shall never forget. These spectacles, however, have been so often and so graphically described by others, that it would be almost presumption in me to attempt a description of the scene, or an analysis of my own feelings. The performance disgusted me to a degree, and has struck me as one of the most extraordinary psychological phenomena in nature, that any body of human beings could be found to whom such exhibitions should be, as they are to the Spanish, sources of the deepest interest and excitement.

To-day I had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of several gentlemen of the place, who gave me a most cordial reception; among whom was the President of Yucatan. He is a successful merchant, a plain, unassuming, practical man; apparently, however, not much versed in political intrigues. The people have recently declared themselves independent of Mexico, and the government is now about sending commissioners to the capital of that republic to treat with Santa Ana, offering again to return to the Mexican Confederacy upon certain conditions; which, if acceded to, will give to this province most decided advantages, besides being still under the protection of the Confederacy.

Christmas eve we passed upon the Alameda, the public promenade of the city. The occasion brought together the great mass of the population. The ladies were prettily dressed, with veils tastefully thrown over their heads; and a beautiful moonlight evening was rendered still more charming by their smiles. The great majority were Indians. Their white, loose, cotton dress, bordered with colored needlework, with the janty veil, carelessly worn, gives them an airy appearance, and embellishes features that are naturally pleasant and mild. There probably were six thousand Indians in this collection, mingling with the multitude, without any apparent distinction of rank or race, quietly indulging themselves in their walks. No loud talking or noisy merriment could be heard. Everything appeared to be conducted in a spirit of harmony and kind feeling. The temperance pledge was alike unnecessary and unknown.

At twelve o’clock (midnight) the crowd dispersed; a portion of them to the cathedral, to attend the performance of high mass. An immense crowd was assembled in this place. The aisles, domes, and fretted work of the windows were illuminated. The sound of music and the voice of the priest only were heard—all else was silence. The multitude knelt. It was an imposing sight—the dark ages were forgotten; and the prejudices of a thousand years were subdued in a moment. At two o’clock I left the cathedral and returned to my lodgings, with more liberal feelings, and a better man.

Christmas, as a holy-day, is strictly observed by the general suspension of business, and service is performed at all the churches, as in most other Catholic countries. The only exception to this uniformity perhaps consists in the devotional ceremonies usually offered to a cross affixed to the walls of the Bishop’s palace, which rites concluded the religious offices of the day. These services were performed by the Indians—and give but too painful evidence of the influence of their priesthood.

The next day was Sunday, and concluded the feast of St. Christoval. The churches were crowded, as is usual, during the morning; but the majority of the multitude that attended the service consisted of females, mostly Indian. In the afternoon we proceeded towards the church of St. Christoval, for the purpose of witnessing the closing scene of a festival which is finished by a procession. Before reaching our destination, however, we met it, and took a position in a door-way, the better to observe it and be out of the crowd. It was headed by eight or ten Indians, with long brass and tin horns, making the most discordant sounds imaginable. Then followed Indian boys, drumming on hollow pieces of wood, squalid and dirty in their appearance, and who were the only ones of a like character that presented themselves to view among the immense multitude. Next came the priests, chanting for the saints, and waving the burning incense, followed by drums and fifes in advance of a large image of the Virgin, decked in various colors, interspersed with tinsel ornaments, surmounted with glass vases, in which a lighted candle or a bouquet of flowers was alternately placed. This imposing display was borne upon the shoulders of eight Indians, surrounded by priests. The rear was brought up by a company of soldiers with fixed bayonets; the whole surrounded by an immense crowd, filling up the streets for a great distance. All were uncovered, and many knelt during the haltings of the procession, which were purposely frequent, so as to enable the people to salute the image. This grand display occupied about three hours, the procession passing through the principal streets and back to the church, where it was dismissed. The whole dispersed with the utmost quietness; some to their homes, and others to places of gaming and dancing.

In returning to our lodgings we met a calesa, preceded by two Indians with lanterns, tinkling small bells, followed by four Indian soldiers, armed with muskets. The carriage contained a priest, who was going to administer holy unction. The people, as is the universal custom here, knelt as he passed. To obviate a similar necessity, we retreated into the nearest house; thereby escaping a charge of heresy, and the unpleasantness of coming in contact with muddy streets.

A stranger, on his first arrival in this country, is at a loss where to place the Indian in the scale of social life. He sees him clean and well dressed, mingling with the whites, and without distinction. To have Indian blood is no reproach, and family groups, in many cases, show this most palpably. It is not unusual to hear mothers threaten to send their children home to their respective fathers, whenever their rudeness requires chiding. The Indian, however, performs the menial labor of the country—and there is an appearance of apathy in his looks and actions, which seems to carry with it the signs of a broken, or at least a subdued spirit—resting upon him like a melancholy vision, a dreamy remembrance, of better days. For, say what we please of him, he is the humble descendant of a once great and powerful people—the “children of the sun,” who were lords of that soil on which their offspring are now held in humiliating vassalage.

We were roused early this morning by the tramp of horses. It was a body of cavalry returning from a neighboring town, where they had been ordered for the purpose of quelling an émeute. They were headed by a small bloody-looking Mexican, with a pair of mustachios that the proudest Castilian might have envied. He was dressed in a blue roundabout, loose white trousers, and a glazed Mexican hat. His followers were mounted upon mules of the most jaded appearance, saddled and caparisoned with manilla matting and ropes. Each wore a shirt, trousers, and straw hat; and was bare-footed, except a pair of huge spurs, which embellished the otherwise naked heel of each rider. Their usual arms were the broadsword and pistols, but this squadron was not well equipped; and the common bayonet, with them, was frequently compelled to do duty for one or both of the other weapons. After so particular a description of these soldiers, it is a matter of extreme regret that the result of the expedition cannot be minutely stated. I feel entitled, however, to indulge a little pride in making the announcement, that they did return crowned with wreaths of victory.

INDIANS OF YUCATAN.

This season of the year is the high noon of the holy-days, which engrosses the best part of the year, and which formerly included two-thirds of it. Their number, some time since, was reduced by a bull from the Pope. The people testify their respect for these festival days (for such they are denominated) by processions and such amusements as are suited to their taste. Notwithstanding the acknowledged debasing effects of their sports and pastimes, which wholly consist of bull-baiting, cock-fighting, and gambling, they are not disgraced by any riotousness or drunkenness. It is a singular fact, that, although the degrading habit of gambling is general among all classes of society, male and female, drunkenness and its concomitant vices are unknown. The priests give countenance to these recreations, if they may be so called, both by their presence and participation. It is but due to the Yucatecos to say, that during my residence in their province, I never observed any cheating or quarrelling at the gaming table, nor have I observed others tempted by improper means to participate in the hazard of the gaming table, after the manner of people at the North. Gambling seems to be a passion peculiar to the Mexican’s character, which he indulges from motives quite independent of mercenary considerations. They usually gamble with cards; but of the skill or even the names of their games, I must plead an utter ignorance. Their interest would sometimes become perfectly intense, as every lineament of their countenances abundantly testified. Hope, fear, satisfaction, and disappointment followed each other in quick succession over their faces, while the portly priest and the flippant señora, who stood near, with their bets vibrating with the chances of the game, seemed scarcely less interested in the result than the more immediate parties. Had a spell of enchantment been laid upon the whole group, they could not have been more completely at the mercy of the uncontrollable hazards of their game. All moral accountability seemed to disappear before its irresistible fascinations.

THE PLANTAIN TREE.

CHAPTER II.

Description of Merida, Geographical and Historical—The City—Public Squares—The Market—Trade—Habits and Customs—Health—The Public Buildings—A way to get a Husband—New Year Eve—New Year Day—The City and Environs—A Touch of Music—A Country Seat—Congress of Yucatan—Franciscan Ruins—More Holy-days—Cock-fighting—A Drill—The Bishop at Home—The College—Miracles.

Merida, the capital of Yucatan, is situated about the twenty-first degree of north latitude, and is elevated some twenty-five feet above the level of the sea. The thermometer ranges at about eighty of Fahrenheit, and the maximum length of the days is nearly thirteen hours. The city was built upon the ruins of an Indian town, which was destroyed by the Spaniards in their superstitious zeal, so madly manifested in the destruction of every thing throughout Mexico that was found belonging to the people whom they had conquered. The present population is calculated at twenty thousand, the majority of whom are Indians and half-breeds.

The city was founded in 1542. From the few scattered facts which have been handed down to us by history, we gather that, prior to the Spanish conquest, there existed in Yucatan a people of an origin remote and unknown, who were under the subjection of rulers, with fixed principles of law and order; had passed through the ordinary vicissitudes of nations, and finished their career by losing, at once, their liberty and their dominions. The triumphant forces of the Spaniards having obtained full possession of the country, the Church came in to execute its part; and their language, manners, customs, and religion, were disseminated by the steady and persevering arm of Catholic power and management. To complete the work, every thing that had a tendency to remind the vanquished of the past was obliterated, in accordance with the grovelling policy or the blind fanaticism that marked the times. Ancient pictorial and hieroglyphical manuscripts were burnt; their idols, images, and planispheres, were destroyed, and their temples and cities were razed to the ground. It is melancholy to reflect that a chasm has thus been made in the early history of the country, which the historian must despair of ever seeing filled up.

Merida, since it was rebuilt, has not rendered itself in anywise historical. Its remote and isolated position has prevented its participation, to any extent, in the political struggles which have marked the history of the city of Mexico; and the inhabitants appear to have availed themselves of their peace and political composure by a cultivation of letters, and general mental cultivation, to an extent certainly unsurpassed in any province of Mexico.

The streets of Merida are of a good width, laid out at right angles. The side-walks are four feet wide, paved with rough stone. The houses are quite uniform in their appearance, and are built of stone. The mason-work is creditable. The roofs of their houses are flat, and their exteriors finished in stucco; some of which are painted in the Moorish style, with balconied windows, ornamented, and presenting rather a pretty appearance. The middle of the street is the lowest, forming a passage to carry off the water. During ordinary rains, small rivers, comparatively speaking, form themselves; flooding the streets to the edge of the walks, and rendering them impassable for hours after the rain has ceased, without great exposure. Candles are used for lighting the city; but, of course, for that purpose, are almost useless.

This place contains a number of fine squares, the principal of which is in the centre of the city. It is bounded by the cathedral, bishop’s palace, government house, and dwellings occupied by the citizens. In the middle of this square is a waterless fountain. No attention is paid to this place, which might justly be compared, from its deserted aspect, to the “Neutral Ground” in New Orleans; and, like that, it is susceptible of being rendered a most beautiful promenade. On the side of this square is the dwelling of Simon Peon, Esq. The front is ornamented with a relic of the times prior to the conquest. It is a huge door-way, elaborately carved in figures and lines. The city is indebted to this gentleman for this display of his liberality and taste, in preserving a very interesting memento of a people whose history, probably, is destined to remain for ever sealed to mankind.

The market occupies a large square, in a central position, having two sides devoted to the sale of meats, and the other two remaining open. The interior is provided with accommodations for the venders of fruits and vegetables. The meats are of an indifferent quality; they are cut up and sold by the butcher in long strips. Their variety of vegetables is limited, and but little skill is shown in their cultivation. Poultry is abundant and cheap, as are also the other necessaries of life.

There is but a very limited trade here, of any kind. The resources of the country are too small for it to be otherwise. To give some idea of the state of trade in the vicinity of the great public square, just described, it is sufficient to state that, in crossing it, we have disturbed the buzzard and killdeer at noonday.

At three o’clock in the afternoon, there is an almost total suspension of business. The stores, generally, are closed, and the inhabitants betake themselves to their hammocks, to the enjoyment of their favorite siesta, which consists of a nap of an hour or more; an indulgence as indispensable to a Mexican as his cigar. The calesa is the only wheel-carriage that is to be found in the streets. Indian porters take the place of drays, and are seen carrying barrels and bales upon their backs, secured by a plaited rope passed over their foreheads. Being accustomed, from childhood, to this kind of labor, they are enabled to take loads of extraordinary weight, and to convey them to a great distance with an ease that is really wonderful.

The climate of Merida, though very dry, and not subject to great changes, is productive of febrile diseases at all seasons of the year, from which even the natives are not exempted. Their bilious, much resembles the yellow fever; and, in many cases, proves fatal. The fever and ague is no stranger here. Pulmonary complaints are common, and consumption carries off many. This malady most frequently shows itself after severe attacks of the fever and ague, and makes a conquest of its victim in a very short period.

The principal, as well as the most prominent, of the public buildings, are the churches. The cathedral is a structure that would attract the attention of the traveller in any part of the world. It was erected in the sixteenth century. Its architecture is of the ecclesiastical style of that age; and, altogether, it has a most commanding appearance. It has well-proportioned domes, pinnacles, turrets, and lofty windows; and it occupies, with the palace of the bishop of Yucatan, one entire side of the most important square of the city. The interior is imposing, from its numerous and splendidly decorated shrines. Its vaulted roof, supported by immense stone pillars, gives it an air of solemn grandeur peculiarly applicable to the ceremonies that are daily performed within its precincts. The arms of Mexico are displayed upon the exterior front of the building, which is finished with stone and stucco, with saints in basso-relievo.

The bishop’s palace, adjoining, is plain. It is of two stories high, painted green; and is accessible by a gateway opening into a court, over which are emblazoned the crosier and mitre. The doors and windows are much dilapidated. The title of a palace is somewhat of a misnomer for this edifice, if one were to judge from its external appearance.

There are fourteen church establishments within the city and its suburbs; they, generally, are well built; and many of them are remarkable for the power and influence of their particular saints—in popular estimation. For instance, that of St. Anne is one which the ladies frequent, to pray for good husbands. Whether the gentlemen go there to ask for similar blessings, I did not learn; but I was informed through a source that it would be impolite to doubt, that, in many instances, the petition of the lonely spinster has been most favorably received. In this church is a large collection of bone and wax figures, representing the various limbs of the human body; as, also, crutches, left there by invalids as offerings to the tutelar saint (St. Barbe) who has favorably heard their supplications. Models of vessels are deposited here by those who have been preserved from imminent danger at sea, through, as the devotees suppose, the efficacy of their appeals and sacrifices to the saint.

We observed, on entering the church, parts of a human skeleton set near the vase of holy water; put there, possibly, that all might see and be reminded that “to this condition we must come at last!” Whether the priests intended that they should convey a moral, as did those in use among the ancient Egyptians, or placed them there for other purposes, could not conveniently be ascertained. Be that as it may, they have an imposing effect. The taste generally displayed in these churches is not very pleasing to the eye of a stranger. The images of our Saviour are rude figures, and what made them appear still worse was, that they were decorated according to the prevailing fashion of the country; a style which was calculated to awaken any other than reverential emotions.

New Year’s eve found me on the Alameda, (the promenade of the city,) where I mingled with the multitude which had collected to enjoy the pleasantness of the evening at this, the most delightful season of the year in Yucatan.

On the morning of New Year, 1842, I went early to the cathedral. Dense masses of Indians, principally females, in their plain cleanly dress, tastefully arranged, were assembled around the different shrines at which the priests were officiating. When I returned to breakfast, I met my fellow-companions of the house at table; but there were none of those outpourings of good feelings, those kind wishes of happiness that, in former days, were wont to meet me in the land of my birth. For one hearty greeting of “a happy New Year!” I would have given for the sake of “auld lang syne,” most cheerfully would I have given—“a thousand returns!” But “New Year’s,” alas! is no festival day of the heart in Merida.

The day was dull throughout. After the services of the church were finished, about nine o’clock, the streets were quite deserted. I then visited the Indians in the suburbs. Their simple huts were comfortable, so far as mud and stone could make them, and tolerably clean. Their furniture is composed of nothing more than a few earthen vessels, calabashes, and hammocks swung across the room. The walls of some of them were ornamented with rude wooden crosses; and, occasionally, pictures of saints in tin frames.

The environs of the city present but few pleasant walks. In fact they are not required, for the inhabitants have not a taste for pedestrian exercises, and scarcely ever walk when they can enjoy any less fatiguing mode of locomotion. The practice of riding in the calesa is almost universal. The ladies, especially, are extremely partial to it; and having an uncouth gait, they thus appear to the best possible advantage. Thus mounted and armed with their fan, (that indispensable appendage to a Mexican lady,) they go forth fully equipped with fascinations, conquering and to conquer. Their rides are wholly confined to the streets, as the scenery in the vicinity of Merida offers few inducements to the equestrian, while the roads constitute a special annoyance. As to the cultivation of the soil, nature has been left to perform the whole task, almost entirely unaided either by art or industry. Surely, thrift is not indigenous to this country. The tropical trees and plants put forth their blossoms, and the rich perfumes fill the air with their balmy sweets. But there is a chilling contrast between the loveliness of vegetable nature about me, and the condition of man, to whose care it is intrusted. We never have admired the one without wishing that we had the power to exalt the other to a position equally worthy of the hand that made it.

We reached our lodgings in season to hear a Mexican disquisition on cock-fighting, before the commencement of a “grand concert,” that was to take place in the evening, and to which we had been favored with an invitation. The élite of the city were to be present, and no small gratification was anticipated. It took place in a long hall kept for this and other public purposes. The music was instrumental—and the performers consisted principally of amateurs. It was a matter of surprise and disappointment to find that only seventeen ladies and ten gentlemen constituted the audience. It was odd to us, to see the fairer part of the assembly set apart from the gentlemen; an arrangement which, if we are not deceived, gave no more satisfaction to the ladies than to the gentlemen. The former were quite pretty, and their dress exceedingly neat; the arrangements of the head in particular exhibited very good taste.

On the following day I made a visit to a gentleman’s country place, situated about two miles from the city. It was a beautiful morning. Under the smiles of a rising sun and a cloudless sky nature appeared to be embellished in all her charms. After a very agreeable walk I arrived at the house; but was disappointed in finding the owner at home. A few Indians were hanging listlessly about the premises, under the charge of a major domo, whose situation was manifestly quite a sinecure. The mansion was of two stories with piazzas, large, and well built of stone; but had nothing very peculiar in its construction. The grounds about it were neatly and tastefully arranged. The division alleys of the garden were laid with stone, covered with composition, ornamentally disposed, and answering the two-fold purpose of a walk and a gutter to conduct the water to the parts where it was required. The orange, the cocoa, the plantain, and the wide-spread banana, were loaded with fruit. Clusters of smaller tropical shrubbery, and myriads of flowers, were in perfection. The enclosures teemed with vegetation, growing in unrestricted luxuriance. This vegetation is only sustained by the aid of irrigation. The water is supplied from immense wells and cisterns, which are opened in large numbers for that purpose. This practice was originally introduced into Spain by the Moors, who thus changed quite barren wastes into productive gardens. Even the courses of rivers were sometimes diverted to effect this important object. Many of the provinces of the parent country, although since suffered by neglect to revert to their former uselessness, bear evidence of the important benefits that resulted from the system. The conquerors of Mexico were aware of its advantages, of which they availed themselves extensively in their agricultural pursuits. These reservoirs are frequently made through a calcareous formation, to the depth of a hundred feet, and are supplied with water both from fountains and from the rains of summer. Broad curbs of stone and mortar are formed around them, from eight to ten feet high, which are used as platforms for drawing up the water by means of revolving buckets, turned by a spindle, and emptying, in their evolutions, into conductors leading to reservoirs located near the place where it may afterwards be wanted. Ascending to the balcony of the building, I had a partial view of the city, embosomed among trees, with its domes and turrets peering above their tops. After acknowledging the hospitality with which I had been received, I made my adieus, and returned at an early hour to the city.

The Congress of Yucatan is now in session. It is held in two rooms, connected with each other by double doors. These rooms are neatly and plainly fitted up for the purpose, having a small gallery or platform at the sides, for the accommodation of spectators. These apartments comprise a portion of a convent once belonging to the Jesuits, who formerly exercised a powerful sway in this province. In 1825 their property was confiscated to the government; when this and other orders of monasteries and nunneries were dissolved by the prevailing voice of the people. Small remains now only exist of this once potent and dreaded class. The whole building, with the exception of the part mentioned, and the church, is in a ruinous condition, with broken walls and ragged casements. Birds of prey, fluttering about and resting upon the trees that overtop the seat of this once proud, but now fallen society, present a lesson that others of a similar cast might profit by; yet now, in the nineteenth century, there are those living in Mexico, who not only strenuously advocate the maintenance of the order of Loyola, but are exerting their influence to have it reinstated to all its pristine wealth, power, and ancient privileges. To revert to the business before Congress—the houses were discussing the propriety of appointing commissioners to Vera Cruz, for the purpose of arranging for a secession from the great plan of independence that had been proclaimed, and again to return “to their first love,” under the control of the Mexican confederacy. The members were good-looking, well dressed, and of gentlemanly behavior—and the system of duelling and bullying practised so extensively in many of our own legislative assemblies, is unknown to the unsophisticated individuals who constitute this body. They probably have not arrived to that state of civilization, which requires such physical agencies to illustrate and to enforce their arguments.

A temptation to visit the most extensive of the modern ruins of this province could not be resisted. The Monastery of St. Francisco, which is situated nearly in the centre of Merida, was erected upon a mound or foundation that, probably, was the former site of some important structure belonging to the original inhabitants of the place, which fell under the destroying hand of the conqueror. The caciques and their people were driven out, or perished by the ruthless sword; and the church, following fast upon their footsteps, divided the spoils. Where are they now? The vanquished and the vanquisher are numbered with the things that were! and we now stand upon the dilapidated memorial that indistinctly marks the greatness of the one, and the downfall of the other.

This monastery was founded in 1520, without being completed until 1600. It was constructed of walls, after the plan of a fortification, to ward off the attacks of the Indians, who made sudden and frequent attempts to regain their dominions and to annoy their enemies. It occupies about five acres of ground, enclosed by walls forty feet high and eight thick, with walks upon the top. The material is of hard stone, but composed of small pieces, imbedded in a firm mass by the means of mortar. This vast pile, at one time, contained upwards of two thousand friars. Popular opinion drove them out in the political changes of 1825. Only few of the order remain in Yucatan, and they are supported by the church.

The entrance to these ruins is through a huge doorway into a room which was evidently used for persons in waiting for egress, when great caution was requisite in opening the gates, for fear of being surprised by the lurking foe. The arched ceiling of the room is painted with flying ecclesiastical figures, and the apartment is now used as a stable. From thence the entrance leads to a large square, the sides of which were once occupied by churches, corridors, and rooms. Passing through these, over the fallen ruins covered with a rank vegetation, by long halls, we come to a room that might have been a place of devotion, judging from the unusual care exhibited in the architecture of the walls, which now, however, was more or less broken and defaced. Two trap-doors were in the centre, through which is a descent, by stone steps, to an apartment twelve by eighteen feet, and six feet high. This room contained piles of human bones, having been a receptacle for those who died of the cholera. This cell had passages connected with it, but they were so choked up with rubbish that they could not be penetrated. After clambering over broken walls, we reached a second floor, containing halls and rooms that had been used for libraries and lodgings, as I inferred from the words placed over the doors. In proceeding along the halls, or entering the deserted rooms, the hollow sound of the intruder’s footstep drives the frightened bat from his resting-place, and the lizard to his hole. The descent here leads through a succession of rooms and cells, under ground, from whence we left the buildings and passed on through the rank grass surrounding them to a portion of the area, which was formerly cultivated as a garden. The stone walk could yet be seen, and the taste and skill of the designer were perceptible. Fruit-trees still remain, as also wells and reservoirs for bathing and fishing.

On returning to the gateway, and ascending the front or principal wall, the highest summit of one of the pinnacles is attained by a ladder of ropes; from which one may obtain a bird’s-eye view of the city and surrounding country, as also of the immense pile of ruins around him. In front of the interior space are two churches, in a tolerable state of preservation, built in the old Spanish style of pinnacled roof and arches. On the left, ruins of an immense hall are seen, with its large broken arch, leaving the whole interior, with its painted ceilings, exposed to view. Farther on are crumbling bastions and thick walls, falling, covered with ivy and other vegetation. Squares are filled up with masses of rubbish, and overgrown with trees. Symbols of the cross were scattered about, bearing evidence of the class of people that had last been its rulers. On the right, you look down into the deep recesses where, but a moment since, you might have stumbled over the emblems of a once haughty and potent priesthood. All now is silent. No life is stirring, save the ominous buzzard fluttering over the tottering pinnacles, or perched upon the blackened and decaying walls, finishing this picture of desolation.

The 6th of January is the holy-day of the Epiphany. At four o’clock in the morning the streets were completely thronged, principally with females. In the cathedral, at this early hour, it was quite dark. The prevailing gloom was rendered more palpable by the distant appearance of lighted candles. The priests were administering the sacrament, with crowds of women surrounding them. The long aisles of the church were filled with kneeling devotees. As the sun rose, and threw his bright beams in at the windows, the scene became imposing. A vast multitude of females were offering up their orisons at the same moment; and, if the mind of the spectator could be divested of the prejudice that it was not merely the performance of a superstitious rite, but a direct and sincere appeal to the Giver of all good gifts, the sight, indeed, had been most cheering to the eye, most gratifying to the heart.

Early on the morning of the following day (Sunday) I visited the churches. They were filled, as usual, with the fairer part of creation. In walking through the streets, after breakfast, great preparations were observed to be making for a cock-fight, which was to take place at twelve o’clock. This, next to a bull-bait, is one of the most exciting scenes that can present itself to a Mexican populace. The gentlemen keepers were already wending their way to the pits, which are always kept in readiness for such amusements. The patricians of the city, the heads of the government, officers of the army, scions of the church, citizens, and the poor Indian, were all present, mixed up, helter-skelter; and bets, from six and a quarter cents to three hundred dollars, were freely offered and as readily accepted. There was much excitement, but no quarrelling or harsh words. The cock of the Secretary of War was beaten.

The latter part of the day was spent on the Square, where there were about three hundred Yucatan soldiers collected for drill. They were dressed in a shirt and short trousers, with the former article upon the outside, and a broad-brimmed palm-leaf sombrero. Their military equipments were in good keeping. They were officered principally by boys, who had received nothing more than a common school education, wore jacket and trousers, and used canes as substitutes for swords. During the drill a slight shower commenced, which dampened the martial propensities of our heroes with marvellous rapidity. Whatever might have been their preferences to a fight, they certainly preferred to drill another day.

I embraced an opportunity, which was now offered me, of visiting the bishop at his palace. Entering a large doorway in the centre of the court-yard, and ascending a flight of stone steps to a range of corridors, I was met by a servant, who conducted me into an ante-room. My name was taken in; and, in a few seconds, I was received by the bishop, in an adjoining room, with a most cordial welcome. He has a fine head. His person is tall, rather robust, and looked the bishop to the life. He was clad in a blue silk gown, and a cap of the same material, resting upon the crown of his head; and embellished with a massy gold chain around his neck, appended to which was a cross. He conversed respecting citizens and residents of the United States with whom he was acquainted, either personally or by reputation; and spoke of the shipwreck of our national vessel, the schooner Porpoise, on board of which he was a passenger, while on her way to Vera Cruz. He expressed himself in the highest terms of commendation of the officers, and gave a glowing account of the perilous voyage. He showed his library with a great politeness, and a becoming pride; but it struck me as being quite limited for one in his position. He expressed himself liberally; and no doubt, as his countenance and actions indicated, he is a right worthy man.

His rooms were fitted up more with an eye to the useful, than to any apparent desire for display. The ceiling was ornamented with lithographs of battles, interspersed with patterns of French fire-boards. Previous to taking leave, he very kindly offered all the aid in his power for facilitating my visit to the towns in the interior. For this, as for other civilities, I shall probably never have an opportunity of testifying to him the full extent of my gratitude.

He passed with us through his house to the door of the college, adjoining, when he left us in charge of the rector, with instructions to conduct us through the building. The institution is called “Minerva.” The first room entered was the library, which was small and badly arranged. It was comprised of works principally relating to the church. It contains a portrait of the founder of the college, a building which was completed in 1775. It is supported by certain taxes paid by each curate in the province. These having been cut off, in a great degree, by the recent changes in the government, seriously affect the institution, which, at this time, is quite limited in its means. Though the pay of the president and professors is small, and the contingent expenses are light, it is apprehended that it cannot long be continued. Its studies do not go beyond the high schools in the United States. We hastily glanced at this building, and then entered the cathedral with our attentive friend, who took especial pains to point out every thing worthy of particular notice. Upon a close examination of the altars and shrines, it was plainly to be discovered that the church was poor. The time is gone by in which churches are made the depositories of the precious metals, formerly a source of so much wealth to them.

One of the shrines contains a wooden image of our Saviour, to which attention was called by one of the priests that accompanied us through the church. He stated to us with much gravity, that it was preserved harmless from a great fire by a miracle, and that it is now looked upon as a most sacred relic. A room was shown us containing portraits of all the bishops of Yucatan. They were badly executed. One of them was pointed out as having been a great eater; he would devour a whole turkey at his dinner, and say, “it was a fine chicken.” Another was shown who had performed the miracle of changing sour apples to sweet, a function which has given its proprietor’s name to a species of apple, which is retained to this day.

CHAPTER III.

Mechanical Pursuits—The Circulating Medium—A Ball—A Remnant of Franciscans—Signs of Decay in the Suburbs—The Cemetery—The Weather—A Whole Congregation Flogged—The Wise Men—The Gentlemen—Extra Civilities—The Appearances of Trade—Products of the Soil—Education—Language of the Indians—The Ancient People—Waldeck’s Opinion of them—The Maya Language—The Lord’s Prayer in Maya—Grammars of that Dialect—Difficulties in Speaking it—Traits of the Indian Character.

Having resolved to visit the towns in the interior, I was under the necessity of making some preparations which brought me in contact with the mechanics of Merida. It being customary and even necessary to travel chiefly upon the backs of horses and mules, the saddler and the tailor were first called into requisition. These professions were principally filled by Indians and half-breeds, who, though clumsy in their business, were far more expert than might have been expected. The custom of the country invariably exacts the payment of one-half of the amount agreed upon in advance, in order that the contractor may be in funds to purchase stock, wherewith to fill his contract. Though their delays are very annoying, yet they are generally honest, and may be depended upon for ultimately fulfilling their engagements.

The wants of the people are so limited that few mechanics are necessary. Nature is kind and lavish. The articles necessary to cover and protect the body are not numerous, and every thing requisite for its nourishment abounds. It looks very odd, I had almost said humiliating, to see men sitting upon the public sidewalks, working upon a lady’s dress, and similar articles hanging around the door-ways of their houses, as a sign of the services which they hold themselves competent and ready to render. Manufactories are nowhere to be seen; the clatter of the loom or the noise of the hammer never disturbs the quiet of Merida.

Some idea of the wealth or poverty of a country may be formed from an acquaintance with its currency. Silver is the basis of the circulation of Yucatan, of which the Spanish sixpence is the smallest. A fractional sort of change, however, is represented by the seeds of the cacao, two hundred and fifty grains of which are considered equal to sixpence. Of these, five grains constitute the smallest amount ever received in trade. In some of the provinces of the Mexican confederacy, pieces of soap pass as a circulating medium, and lose none of their estimated value for a few washings, provided the balance of exchange should not be such as to carry it out of the district where it is known. The great scarcity of money tends to reduce every thing else in an equal ratio. Servants’ wages are from three to five dollars a month, and those of mechanics are at a proportionate rate. Rents are almost a nominal charge. This is partially produced by the number of untenanted buildings that are decaying without occupants.

The manner of doing business is simple. Nothing of that stir and bustle is seen that is to be observed in cities and towns of the United States; nor do you find the care-worn and anxious look that is so often to be noticed with us. Speculation, kite-flying, lame ducks, bulls and bears, and all those curses with which large mercantile communities are usually visited, are entirely unknown in the province of Yucatan.

During my stay in the city of Merida, a ball was given at the Governor’s house, apropos of some political event, which I did not esteem of moment enough to remember. As usual upon such occasions, there were grand preparations. The man-milliners were busily engaged upon female finery—and their shop-boards were decorated with the most unlimited gayety. Every door-way along the principal streets, throughout the day, was filled with ladies seated upon stools, (their favorite posture,) working fancy articles, in anticipation of the approaching festival. But their dresses gaping behind, and hanging loosely upon their shoulders, and their slip-shod feet, made them appear exceedingly slovenly at home, and awakened in me a strong desire to see them in full toilet at the ball in the evening.

On entering the hall, I passed through a dense line of ladies arranged along the corridors, principally mammas, and wall-flowering spinsters garlanding the corridors. The dancing had already commenced. At first sight, the display was dazzling; but after the lapse of a few minutes, the fascination dissipated. The absence of all conversation, even of small-talk, which upon such occasions is a relief, rendered even the ball-room, like all their other domestic institutions here, exceedingly monotonous and dull. During the dance, not a lip is seen to move—like Marryat’s wench, they refuse to talk, because they came here to dance! At the conclusion of a cotillon, the ladies took seats separate from the gentlemen. They dressed here in very good taste; though a partiality for brilliant colors was rather too conspicuously displayed for a Northern eye. There was no extravagant display of jewellery or rich brocades, in which particular I may be pardoned for commending their example to my own fair countrywomen. There were many pretty faces, that only required expression to render them charming. The skill of the man-milliner, however, deserves full credit. I will add, for the benefit of my bachelor friends, that there were in attendance about twelve ladies to one gentleman. This disproportionate abundance of females is common in warm climates, and constitutes, I believe, one of Bishop Warburton’s arguments in defence of polygamy in Asia. The ladies in the corridors were silently enjoying their cigars during the whole evening, and only relieving the monotony of their occupation, by carrying on a telegraphic correspondence with some of their neighbors by the aid of their fans.

The ball, as I have already remarked, was given at the Governor’s house, which occupies a portion of the great square. The room was about fifty feet long by fifteen wide. The floor was of mortar; the ceilings high and roughly finished. The walls were ornamented with framed engravings, and the windows hung with white cotton curtains. A fine supper was provided; but I left the ball at an early hour, and jostled my way to my lodgings through an immense crowd of Indians, of both sexes, attracted by the festivities which I was just leaving.

Within the precincts of Merida, there is a regular monastery sustained by about twelve monks. In my rambles I passed the door of one of the friars, who invited me to walk in. He was a middle-aged man, clad in the usual garb of his order; a loose dress, and sandals tied about his ankles with cords. His hair was cut rounding; giving it the air of a Scotch bonnet resting lightly upon the top of his head. He was not only very polite, but a very learned man. In spite of my sterner judgment, I could not but sympathize with him, as he dilated upon the historical recollections of the old and notorious order to which he had attached himself in his youthful days. As he spoke of it in its glory, his enthusiasm broke forth with an almost inspired eloquence.

His room was large and airy, and appeared to have been arranged for a study. It was furnished with two chairs and a table. A few Spanish and Latin works were lying around. He conducted us through the long halls and corridors of the monastery, and described to us the various paintings that covered the walls. They were principally representations of his tutelar saint, in the different periods of his eventful life, from his birth to his death; also, of the crucifixion of our Saviour. At a distance they might resemble pictures; but, on approaching them, the charm fled. They proved to be most execrable daubs.

The church attached to the monastery is well worth a visit. It has an immense shrine, formed by a group of figures in alto-relievo, large as life, representing saints and angels, and all profusely ornamented with gold and silver. One of the chapters of the church contains a representation of the crucifixion carved upon stone, beautiful, both for its design and its execution. It was found by the Spaniards on the island of Cozumel, the place where Cortez first landed, and has caused much speculation as to its origin. On returning to the room of our worthy guide, chocolate was served; and a conversation for an hour ensued upon the condition of the clergy of the United States, which arose from an inquiry into the number and denomination of our monasteries! I left him alone within his cheerless walls, and wended my way back to my home; each of us, no doubt, preferring his own situation to the other’s. I can at least speak authentically as to one.

I continued my rambles in the suburbs on the following day. Here, dilapidation and ruin, and the want of cultivation, are too palpable. Churches built centuries ago, and now surrounded only by a few poor Indian huts, form a sad but instructive commentary upon the insufficiency of arbitrary power, under the control of a religious hierarchy, to develope the intellectual or the physical resources of a people. Decay and desolation have overtaken all those institutions of an elder time, which now but serve, like the footsteps upon the shore of a deserted island, to prove the former presence of a more vigorous civilization. The hand of man has rarely interfered to protect these solemn memorials from oblivion. The grounds around them are but little cultivated, and are mostly covered by a thick growth of furze, with an occasional cocoa, orange, or tamarind tree. Here, however, the ramon grows to a great height, and is very valuable, its leaves and branches affording a nutricious food for horses.

About two miles from the city is a cemetery, appropriated to the dead of Merida. It is located in a beautiful situation; but, like most other public places in this country, it has been utterly neglected. It comprehends about half an acre of land, surrounded by a high wall; and is under the charge of a Catholic priest, who resides upon the premises. Those who can afford it are provided with vaults, built upon the surface of the ground. The poor are interred beneath the soil. The priest in charge does not seem to have permitted his solemn vicinage to disturb his digestion or dampen his spirits. His sleek and portly appearance reminded me, at once, of the “fat, round, oily little man of God,” whose repose Thomson disturbs in his Castle of Indolence. He was kind and attentive in showing the premises; but his conversation was very feeble, and indicated a mind almost demented with superstition.

The thermometer now, though the middle of January, ranges at about eighty. We have occasional showers, but the weather continues to be delightful. The mornings and evenings are perfectly enchanting. The climate is not so uniform as that of Cuba; rains are more frequent, and the dews more abundant. Colds and influenzas are common; and on this account it cannot, I think, be recommended to invalids with pulmonary affections.

Connected with one of the monasteries of the Jesuits, is the Church of Jesus. It has partially lost its ancient splendor by the removal of valuable plate and embellishments, which formerly belonged to it; and I should not detain my readers with a notice of it here, but for a most singular religious ceremony which I was permitted to witness within its walls during vespers. The congregation was composed principally of Indians. After the usual ceremonies were concluded, a large Indian prostrated himself upon the floor before the altar, carefully adjusted his limbs, and laid himself out as if he were preparing for burial. Men, with coils of rope about their heads, representing crowns of thorns, dressed in loose garments, and bending under the weight of a heavy cross, then entered and tottered up the aisles. A cross and scull were then passed around; the bearer repeating in Latin, as they were handed to be kissed, “This is the death, and this is the judgment!” When this form had been concluded, we were all supplied with whips, (I declined to avail myself of their politeness,) the lights were extinguished, and all was darkness. Nothing was visible but the gigantic windows, and the outlines of the stupendous arches and fretted walls above us. The chamber of death was never more silent than was that church for the moment. While I was speculating upon what would probably occur next in the order of exercises, my meditations were suddenly interrupted by the sounds of stripes rising and echoing through every part of the vast edifice. That there was whipping going on, I had no doubt; but whether each one did his own whipping, or had it done by his neighbors, I was, for some time, unable to satisfy myself; but I soon discovered that the former was the case, upon the presumption, doubtless, that each one knew how much his case required better than any one else. This penitential ceremony continued for the space of fifteen minutes, at least, without intermission. When it ceased, which was at the tinkling of a bell, the candles were relighted, and the assemblage slowly left the church, apparently perfectly satisfied that they had received no more than they deserved.

I had the gratification of visiting a number of the learned men of Merida, or “sabios,” as they are denominated by some travellers. In Yucatan, this title is not inappropriate. They are celebrated here, and very justly; for they are tolerably well informed; therein, having greatly the advantage of the mass of their fellow-citizens. They seem to be a chosen band, living and moving in a distinct body within their own circle; like Rosicrucians, having no kindred spirits to whom they can attach themselves, or from whom they can increase their numbers. Thus, in the course of ordinary events, as their days approach to threescore and ten, their order must become gradually extinguished. One of them, to whom I paid frequent visits, was already upwards of ninety years of age, and one of the most interesting old men I have ever beheld. He seemed happy to see me; was fond of speaking of his youthful days; gave an account of his early studies and recreations; and, withal, a goodly portion of fatherly advice and admonition. His mind appeared to be vigorous; too much so, indeed, for the feeble state of his body. He was pleased to answer questions; and, when adverting to the state of the country, spoke with much feeling, but despairingly, of every thing connected with it.

I had the pleasure of meeting, to-day, with the gentlemanly owner of the estate upon which are the celebrated ruins of Uxmal. He was intelligent and communicative, and had travelled in the United States. He traced back, as far as practicable, the title-deeds of his forefathers to this land, in order, if possible, to gain some clew to its early history; but it led to nothing that could be made available to the traveller. He expresses great confidence in Mr. Stephens, who is now investigating these ruins, and to whom he had rendered every facility for the prosecution of his task. I asked him what he would take for the land upon which those ruins were situated; and he readily replied, five thousand dollars. I declined to embark in a speculation in these lands, but did not hesitate to avail myself of the letters with which he was so kind as to favor me to the majordomos of his several estates; for which I beg leave here to express my most sincere thanks.

The social condition of the female sex in Yucatan, so far as my observation extends, compares very favorably with that of females of the same rank in the other provinces of Mexico. The Yucatecos ladies generally attend to their household affairs, and to the education of their children; but though their habits are rather domestic, the standard of virtue is not to be estimated as high as in the United States. Their personal attractions are quite inconsiderable. In the absence of animation and intelligence, nothing is left to fascinate or to be loved. The brunette complexion, regular features, black hair, and eyes of the same color, predominate. They dress in the Spanish fashion—bright colors are generally preferred—with a light veil thrown over their heads, and a profusion of jewellery and other ornaments carefully arranged about their persons. They seldom walk out, except to church, where they appear to more advantage than at any other place. At their houses, their carelessness of dress amounts to slovenliness. They may be seen at almost any hour of the day, swinging in their hammocks, with cigars in their mouths, or making their toilet in the doorway of their dwellings. It is a general custom here for the ladies to sleep in this suspended apparatus. Those who are accustomed to the luxury of a bedstead, are not easily reconciled to this arrangement; and I have in vain tried to discover a sufficient reason for the prevalence of these articles, to the exclusion of the bedstead.

The gambling propensities of the ladies are as strong as those of the gentlemen; which, however, they do not indulge in to so great an extent. They mingle at the public tables, but good order and decorum always prevail.

A stranger is particularly struck with the apathy of the wife in her household affairs. She is seldom seen in conversation with her husband. Being poorly educated, she has no literary resources whatever. She is rarely seen with a book in her hand. The common topics of her household form the only points of intellectual contact between herself and her husband. Sleep is her chief resource; and, in the swing of the hammock, many of her best hours are lost in forgetfulness. Music, I found to my great surprise, was but little cultivated.

Considerable attention is paid to the education of children; but it is not deemed necessary, by parents, for them to proceed much beyond the first rudiments. The public school system is adopted, and kept up with some degree of ability, by the government and corporations. The towns are divided off into districts throughout the state, in which are two colleges and fifty-seven schools; besides others of select tuition, in which the elements of an ordinary education are taught, together with the doctrines of the Romish church.

The impressions which I have received of the male population are as yet necessarily undefined, and would not perhaps warrant me in attempting to characterize them; but, so far as my knowledge extends, I am inclined to think them a proud, though not a supercilious people. It is that Castilian sort of pride which is identified with the old Spanish character; and which has descended from him as naturally to the Mexican as his siesta. This gives them, even in their ignorance, some character. While they have this pride about them, we may be sure they will not degenerate into Caffres. Though they have declared their independence of Mexico, and have promised to the world to prove themselves worthy of enjoying entire political liberty, yet it is very evident to a stranger, that a majority of the population are perfectly indifferent whether they return or remain under their present rulers. This apathy in political matters indicates a condition of the national mind, which is likely to be but little affected by the form of government under which it exists. Their constitution much resembles that of the United States. They have a President, Vice President, and two houses of legislators. The elective franchise extends to all, not excepting either the Indians or the blacks. The latter class is principally composed of runaway slaves from the neighboring islands. Their number, however, is small. All religions are tolerated; but that of the Catholic is protected!

In their private dwellings very little or no taste is displayed. Their furniture, generally, is plain. They are not very choice or select in the ornaments for their rooms, French lithographs in frames, such as are usually hung about in our bar-rooms and barbers’ shops, being almost universal.

The people throughout Yucatan are exceedingly polite to strangers. It would be well for foreigners, however, to know that when, on presenting letters of introduction to the Yucatecos, they tender you all their earthly possessions, together with their personal services into the bargain; it would be wise to get accustomed as soon as possible to the habit of being satisfied with their individual attentions, without expecting an immediate transfer of the title-deeds of their estates. This would save much disappointment, as many of their civilities are empty ceremonies, offered only in conformity with their national customs.

Commercial transactions are limited to the supply of retail dealers in the city and country. The principal articles of trade are dry goods, imported from England and France, by the way of the Balize and Havana. The exportation of the products of the country is conducted through the same channel; but owing to the poverty of the soil, and the supineness of the people, it is likewise very circumscribed. On the whole, so far as my personal observation has yet extended, the land presents a barrenness of appearance which offers few of those inducements that have been held out for emigration, either to the husbandman or the mechanic.

The agricultural products of Yucatan are numerous. Corn, resembling that of New England, which constitutes one of the principal articles of food, and from which tortillas are prepared, is raised here in great abundance. Also black beans, so well known to travellers by the name of frejoles, constitute an agricultural staple of the country. Heniken is cultivated, and prepared for exportation, to a considerable extent. It is known in the United States as “Sisal hemp,” and takes its name from the port whence it is shipped. It is indigenous, and grows upon a rocky and apparently barren soil, to the height of about twelve feet, from a short rough trunk. It is cut at a certain period, and the fibres drawn out and dried, after which it is prepared and put up for the market. Sugar and cotton are raised in some of the eastern districts; but very little attention is paid to their cultivation beyond the small demand for the home consumption. Hats, from the leaf of the palm, are manufactured in the interior in large quantities for exportation, and are shipped at Campeachy. They are known in our market as the “Campeachy hat.”

There has been much speculation, to little purpose, respecting the original inhabitants of Yucatan. It is a subject so involved in doubt, that any satisfactory conclusions can scarcely be expected. Waldeck[^[1]] is of opinion that it was settled by different nations, broken off from Tabasco and other states, who particularly used the Maya idiom. He gives further evidence of this fact, from the facial formation observable in sundry of the Indians at Merida, particularly in the women, who resemble, in their physiognomy, the sculptured faces upon the stones at Palenque. The delicately tapered straight leg, small knee joints, and large shoulders, are mentioned as characteristics strongly marking a similarity of descent. The more distant Indians, and especially those of the mountains, have preserved their idioms as well as their ancient customs in a much greater degree—their language being more pure, and their manners more uniform.

That these people are the descendants of the ancient Mayas, there is hardly room to doubt. That tongue now pervades the whole peninsula, and is understood and spoken even by the whites. They were well known to be far advanced in civilization when first discovered, the strongest evidences of which are scattered throughout the province. Their calendars have been deciphered; and their astronomical symbols and hieroglyphical signs have been identified with those of the Mexicans. They had also their picture writings, called analthes, which were executed upon bark, and folded up in the same shape as books.[^[2]]

Waldeck says, and a residence of several years gives weight to his impressions, that the Maya now spoken partakes very little of the ancient language of the country; more especially in the neighborhood of large towns and cities. The continued intercourse that has existed between the Indians and Spaniards, since the conquest, has Castilianized their idiom to such an extent, that the original is nearly lost to those who are now held in vassalage. The affinity observable between the Maya and Tchole dialects proves them to be a complete medley; and that this mixture occurred at an early period, he was convinced from the proofs he held in his own possession of the ancient idioms. For instance, in referring to his vocabulary, he finds that those words ending in un, in the Tchole tulum, (a circle,) are tulun. The x has the sound of ch in church. The Mayas are indebted to Francis Gabriel Bonaventure, author of a work published in 1560, called Arte del Idioma Maya; and to R. P. F. Pedro Beltran, who wrote in 1746,[^[3]] two Franciscan monks, for this style of pronunciation. Waldeck affirms, that the language now spoken in Yucatan is not that for which those authors laid down the principles.

It appears that these people had no written language other than their hieroglyphics. The idioms now used were put into their present shape by their conquerors, from sounds representing things, gathered from the lips of the Indians. Definitions of their figurative writing, so far as it can be ascertained, might lead to more satisfactory results. They might serve as guides to some knowledge of a race, which evidently practised the useful and the ornamental arts; but which probably had emigrated to this hemisphere previous to the invention of letters.

The Maya dialect is very barren of expression; and, to a stranger, difficult of pronunciation. The same word often conveys different meanings, from the peculiar manner of sounding it. In fact, to speak it well, requires careful study, and an untiring practice. Under these obstructions, it would take a long time to become so familiarized to the tongue, as to be able to communicate with that people in a way to discover any of those traditions that may yet lurk among them. But, after all, they are like an exhausted mine; the metal which the curious seek has been extracted; and it need only be sought for in those regions where the soil has never been disturbed.

The dress of the Indian is of the simplest kind. His food principally consists of corn; which is prepared by parboiling, and crushing on a stone by means of a roller. When ready, it is made into balls; and, after being mixed with water, it is ready to be eaten. Corn is broken in the same way, and made into cakes called tortillas, which are the favorite food of all classes of society in this province. The wages for Indian service are from one to four dollars per month; the largest portion of which, in very many cases, is expended for candles and other offerings to their chosen saint. In general these Indians are extremely mild and inoffensive. Drinking is their most decided vice; but even this, as we have already remarked, cannot be called a prevailing one. They are a listless rather than indolent race, and never “think for the morrow.” They have quite an amiable expression in their countenances, and their mode of conversation is pleasing. Their features remind one of those of the Asiatic more than of any other. Their stature is short and thick-set, having but little resemblance to that of the North American Indian. We looked in vain for their pastimes—they have none, except those connected with the church. They seldom dance or sing. They are wholly under the surveillance of the priests, and are the most zealous devotees to their rites and ceremonies. Their hours of leisure are passed in their hammocks, or else in silently squatting about the corners of the streets. Though they wear the outside show of freedom, they have not even as much liberty as the most abject vassal of the middle ages. They are literally degraded to the position of serfs. They are always in debt, and are consequently at the mercy of their creditors, who, by the law of the country, have a lien upon their services until their debts are cancelled. This, together with the absence of nearly all the ordinary encouragements to exertion, common in a colder climate, and among a more progressive people, conspires to keep the Indian Yucatecos in a state of listless bondage, which they endure without a murmur, and we may add, from our own observation, without much positive suffering. Legalized slavery, as it is well known, does not exist in any part of Mexico.

A YUCATECO INDIAN’S HOUSE.

CHAPTER IV.

Preparations for the Interior—Outfit, &c.—The Indian Boy—Departure from Merida—Arrival at Tixcoco—Calcachen—A Feast-day—Isamal at a distance—Arrival there—Our Palace—A Procession—Ancient Mounds—The Church—A striking Indian—Wrong Impressions—Tuncax—A Dilemma—Philosophy of the Road-side—A Dinner—Visit to a Curate—A Touch of Comfort—Mail Carrier—Sitax—An Indian Alcalde—Tinum—An Allusion—Valladolid—A Mistake rectified in time.

The varying and unsatisfactory accounts which I had received of the interior of Yucatan, had awakened in me an irresistible desire to explore it, although I tried in vain to define to myself the cause of my curiosity. Partly through a desire of novelty, and partly for the want of a more definite purpose, I resolved to invade those unexplored regions which had not yet found a corner in our geographies, nor even been reached by the all-pervading spirit of traffic. As soon as I had resolved, I addressed myself to the preparation of my outfit; in which, despite the ignorance and indolence of my Mexican aids, I was ultimately successful.

To some future traveller, it may be interesting to know the nature of my preparation.

In the first place, then, I provided myself with an over-all shirt, (pockets made to order,) Mexican riding-trousers, and palm-leaf hat. In addition to these, were a hammock and a striped blanket; the latter article Americanized by ornamental stars, representing the emblems of my country, in white, red, and blue; under which one could sleep, fight, or negotiate, as circumstances might require. Of weapons, defensive and conciliatory, there were a double-barrelled gun, an Indian knife, and rather a limited amount of the smallest Spanish coin. The Indian and the Bowie knife are very similar in weight and shape. The former is an indispensable accompaniment upon a journey through this peninsula. It may be seen that, if driven to the wall, a very tolerable show of defence might have been made.

The cooking arrangements consisted of tin cups and pans, salt, and loco-foco matches. My philosophical and mathematical instruments were a memorandum book, an ordinary lead pencil, and a pocket compass! The instruments and dress were intrusted to no one but myself—the latter enveloped my person, while the former occupied those invaluable shirt-pockets, of which I claim to be the original inventor. To the Indian boy José, (pronounced Hosay,) whom I hired as a servant to accompany me, and who will be hereafter better known to my readers, was intrusted the other portion of my luggage.

The boy, to whom allusion has just been made, was decidedly genteel in his appearance. Though he has been termed a boy, he is of the kind who, among the Irish, never become men until they are married. He was about five-and-twenty years of age. His mother and sisters thought the world of him, and well they might; for he was most worthy of their affections. Both his physical and mental powers were very symmetrical. He was active, industrious, and faithful. If he had any fault, perhaps it was in being too amorous. I do not feel disposed, however, to quarrel with a constitutional infirmity.

I left the agreeable residence of Doña Michaelé, in company with my fidus Achates, on the twenty-ninth of January, on one of the most lovely mornings that the eye of God ever looked out upon to bless.

Our route was eastward, towards Valladolid. The road was wide, and in excellent condition, being one of the principal thoroughfares. This road is under the superintendence of government; and the expenses of its repairs are defrayed by a tax, similar to the road-tax usually levied in the United States.

At ten o’clock we arrived at the town of Tixcoco, and rode up to the Casa-real; which belongs to a class of houses set apart by the municipal authorities of every town for the accommodation of travellers. They are the substitutes for public houses; a convenience almost unknown to the country.

The Casa-real is also the receptacle for the public property of the place—such as implements of labor, punishment, &c.—consisting of crowbars, handcuffs, wooden scale-beams, and drums, staffs of the alcaldes, &c.

These accommodations and depositories are in charge of some six or eight Indians, who are drafted to serve one year, under the direction of the alcaldes, who represent aldermen in the judicial capacity. These Indians also attend upon the wants of strangers, and depend wholly upon the small pittances they receive for their support. It is almost needless to add, what follows necessarily from the tenure of their offices, that they are idle, negligent, and without enterprise.

At a quarter before eleven I took breakfast, which had been brought from some neighboring house. It was composed of eggs, tortillas, and frejoles. The tortillas are a kind of corn-cakes, and constitute the principal bread of the country. Frejoles are small black beans, in general use in all the provinces of Mexico, and occupy the same elevated rank in the domestic economy of that nation that the potato does in Ireland. To complete the morning’s repast, a calabash of maza was added. This is a drink prepared with corn, and is usually drunk by the natives in the place of tea and coffee.

The town of Tixcoco is ornamented with a large church, and the appurtenances thereto usually belonging in Catholic countries; but the dwellings, generally, are mere Indian huts, of mud walls and thatched roofs.

At three o’clock, after the heat of the day, we again started upon our route; and at six, rode up to the Casa-real of Calcachen, where we stopped during the night. The best room in the house was placed at our disposal. The corners of the apartment proved that it had been swept; for the collections of months still remained there, a standing evidence of the fact.

The Casa-real, according to universal custom, fronts upon a public square; where great preparations were at this time making to celebrate some one of the religious festivals on the following Monday. An amphitheatre was erected, formed of poles, having a row of seats overlooking the arena, where bull-fights were to take place. In the evening, in anticipation of the festival, guns were discharged, and a display of fireworks took place from the roof of the church. The Indians, on these occasions, like our juvenile patriots previous to the fourth of July, usually anticipate the sport of the festal day some forty-eight hours or more before it arrives.

Next morning (Sunday) I was awakened before daylight by the noise of the natives, who, as usual, could not restrain their impatience for the arrival of their day of rejoicing. Wooden drums and horns were brought in requisition; and, at sun-rise, rockets were being discharged from the church. The bells were rung, the crowd entered the building, and quiet was restored.

Preparatory to cleansing our guns, previous to our departure from this town, they were discharged. This was understood by the Indians to be a complimentary salute to their saint, and they crowded around me, to my great annoyance, insisting that I should remain with them until the end of the feast. Flattering as was this invitation, which, at one time, I thought I should be compelled to accept, I succeeded in declining without giving offence. Bidding them adieu, we saddled our horses, and were once more upon the road. After passing through two small Indian towns of little notoriety, we arrived at Isamal at noon.

The road continued to be good; and four miles distant, the church could be seen, throwing the shadows of its massive walls over the surrounding objects.

On arriving at the Casa-real, it was found to be deplorably filthy and uncomfortable; to which I was in no condition of mind or body to submit. I went in quest of the Colonel of the town, whom I found to be a quondam friend, and an old housemate at Doña Michaelé’s, in Merida, and that he had been recently appointed to this station. From the natural politeness of this gentleman, I was guarantied a kind reception, and such good quarters were provided as to make me feel quite at home; as all will be prepared to believe, when they know of the accommodations.

We were the sole proprietors of a lordly mansion, with a retinue of Indians to attend our bidding. The structure which we inhabited occupies one side of a large square, and is raised upon strong and well-built arches of about twelve feet, supporting the long ranges of halls, rooms, and pillared corridors, of easy access by steps leading off at different sections. The whole was quite imposing in its appearance, and not the less attractive for having been recently cleansed and whitewashed. This building was used for public offices in Isamal’s better days. I occupied the south-eastern angle of the mansion, looking out upon the square and market-place. The scene without, however, was not very fascinating. A few Indian women only were to be observed, selling or carrying meats and vegetables; and mules browsing over the grounds.

Sunday evening was being observed here by a long procession from one of the churches, composed of priests, and upwards of four hundred Indian girls, clad in plain white cotton dresses, each carrying a lighted candle. It was a beautiful and even an imposing sight. In this procession was carried a figure of the Virgin, surrounded by all the symbols of the church, upon a stage preceded by music, and heralded with occasional displays of fire-works.

In the morning, at an early hour, I visited the suburbs of the town, where I observed a number of mounds, the highest of which I judged to be from fifty to sixty feet, and which I ascended. The sides were very precipitous, and covered with loose stones. I was compelled to pull myself up by the aid of the bushes that overgrew the surface.

Before reaching the summit, and about two-thirds of the way from the base, is a square platform of about two acres in extent, in the centre of which is a well, partially filled in with stones, and more or less overgrown with vegetation. This dilapidation and decay had evidently been the work of centuries.

From the top of this mound there was a fine prospect. The view of the town, with its elevated church, and the flat-roofed, Moorish-looking houses, with the trees of the tropics interspersed, and the tall cocoa, varying the surface of the extended country in the distance, presented a rural scene rarely to be met with in this country.

The plane surface of the land around these elevations, precludes the supposition that they are natural formations. Their origin and purpose can only be surmised. Probably they were fortifications—perhaps look-out places:—

“An observatory, from whence to overlook

The surrounding world at one broad glance,

And view their wily foes.”

Be this as it may, I felt awed when I looked upon them. I could not but feel that they established a sort of parenthetic connexion between myself and elder ages, and a strange people who had customs now unknown, and of whom history has preserved no better memorials than the indistinct yet eloquent piles of stone and earth before me.

After our breakfast, I called at the house of the curate, but he was absent; asserting the prerogative of the traveller, I thereupon introduced myself to the priest in charge, and informed him that I was a stranger, and should not be ungrateful for any attentions that might be bestowed upon me in that character. His reception was rather cool; but, as my object was to obtain information, I affected not to notice it. After some trivial delays, I was enabled to visit the church which had so struck my eye as I approached the city, and which I was desirous of seeing. It is situated in the centre of the city, upon an artificial elevation, which once, no doubt, was the site of some important structure of the ancient people who formerly inhabited this province. It was probably destroyed to make room for a monastery—the ruins of which (the church which forms a part of it being preserved) cover some acres of land.

The church was filled with rude carving, and with still more rude and incomprehensible paintings. Within the walls, which encompass the whole of the grounds, is a square that once must have been a magnificent place, but which is now totally neglected. It has on three sides a double row of pillars, forming a beautiful promenade, from which the country, as far as the eye can reach, is overlooked.

The priest who conducted me over the premises, seemed to know nothing of the church in which he officiated, and even less, if possible, of the city and its environs, whence came the patronage on which he subsisted. The Latin inscription upon the builder’s tablet was incomprehensible to him; but it is no more than justice to say, that he was evidently chagrined by the ignorance which he had been forced to exhibit. He conducted me to the turret, and pointed out the clock for my inspection; it was a rare piece of mechanism; but the most striking part of it was a live Indian stationed beside it, to strike the hours.

The towns throughout this portion of the interior are well laid out, and the houses well built; every thing looks as though they might be inhabited by a stirring people. Arriving in one of them at the close of the day, the stranger is led to attribute the pervading quiet to that particular time; in the morning he would think the same; but, at morning, noon, and night, the same composing monotony reigns, and all days, (those of the feasts excepted,) and all places, are alike. A listless apathy seems to hang around them—a pervading stillness and inactivity, which are painful to observe.

The principal stores are kept by the whites, who, in the ratio of population, are to the Indians, about as one to six. Their stock comprises all descriptions of goods required by the inhabitants; among which the article of distilled liquors is the most prominent—the demand for which, I observed, increased, as I advanced into the interior.

The Indian of the town clock has this moment struck one; the stores are closed, and the streets deserted. The whole of the population, excepting a few straggling natives, are in their hammocks. Midnight is on us in pantomime, without its darkness. In fifteen minutes more, all Yucatan, literally, may be said to be asleep—even my José now is looking at me with a drowsy eye, and wondering, no doubt, why I do not follow the example. The climate is really enervating, and I have determined to swing a while, if it be only to learn not to condemn the habits of others.

On the following morning we left Isamal, stopping occasionally upon the road-side, to examine the sonatos which lay in our route. These are large wells, which apparently have been formed by convulsions of Nature, in the midst of silicious and calcareous rocks. They contain a never failing supply of good water, and are a rendezvous of Indians, and halting-places for the muleteers, who usually are found taking their refreshments there. The calabash of Maza was always tendered to us with unrestrained hospitality, and we were almost uniformly asked to partake of their other provisions. Sharing the food of these humble wayfarers is an unfailing guarantee of their good-will, and to decline, if not construed as an offence, would certainly wound their sensibility.

I frequently had occasion to observe the tact that José possessed of making himself agreeable to those we met upon the road, and was often reminded of my good fortune in having secured his valuable services.

Parting from our transient friends, we hurried on in a vain effort to escape a violent shower which threatened us, and which overtook us in time to drench us thoroughly before we got refuge, at noon, in the Casa-real at Tuncax.

It is too late for me to expect any credit for remarking the mutability of all human affairs; but I was reminded of the fact to-day with all the force of a new revelation. But this morning I was quartered like a prince, with a palace for a dwelling, and a cacique’s retinue to obey my bidding; and now, there is not an Indian so poor as to do me reverence. The floor of the Casa-real into which fate had cast me was not entirely covered with water. The hammock swung clear of the mud. There evidently had been a roof over head, and my situation would have been positively worse in the streets. Comparatively, then, I was comfortable. The rain too had almost ceased; the Indians were coming in, and the prospects of a dinner were brightening. Across the square stood the church, with its heavy walls blackened with the sun and the rain, with its gabled front, and pigeon-holed apex, and its trio of bells. By its side stood the house of the curate, with its low sides, and high though dilapidated thatched roof. There were some half dozen stores scattered about, and a few stone buildings, no doubt inhabited by the whites; the rest of the town, as usual, is made of Indian huts.

The dinner came, and it satisfied me that none can appreciate the importance of a meal, except those who have tried it after a day’s riding and fasting in a country like this. After a hearty repast of tortillas and frejoles, the weather was consulted, with a view of continuing our journey; but the result was not flattering. The fact was much clearer than the sky, that we were to remain here during the night, and there was no friendly Colonel within reach to rescue me from my lodgings. But it struck me that there must be some resource. The curate appeared to be the only chance, so to his house I wended my way, and entered with the customary “Ave Maria” upon my lips. He was swinging in his hammock. I introduced myself to him at once; described the deplorable state of the Casa-real, and solicited his influence in obtaining us more comfortable quarters. He received me very kindly, and promised to do all in his power to make me comfortable; and right well he kept his word. A bottle of “Abenaro,” a peculiar liquor of the country, and its accompaniment of cigars, were speedily sent for; and, in much less time than it requires to partake of either, I discovered that I was at home, at the house of my friend, the curate of Tuncax.

A long and animated conversation followed, which, I only recollect, was poorly understood by either, in consequence of the small amount of words which we comprehended in common. It was, mainly, of a political cast; politics being the subject in which he appeared to take most interest.

The curate was a young man, who, compared with many of his order in the country, had devoted much time to study. He has possessed the curacy for the last four years; but, if one may draw conclusions from things around, it is not a very lucrative situation.

Everything in the vicinity indicated extreme poverty; and I felt some embarrassment in asking to see his church and its nakedness. This, however, was happily obviated by a polite invitation, on his part, to conduct me through it. So, putting on his black velvet and silk, and mounting a curious high-peaked hat, and taking his telescope in his hand, he led the way over the broken stone floors, and along the dark damp halls, to the edifice.

As we entered, he remarked that it was poor. Indeed, that was plainly impressed upon everything in and about it. It had not even cleanliness and order to relieve its appearance. We passed through it, and ascended, by a flight of stone steps on the outside, to the roof, where, by the aid of the telescope, we had a fine view of the surrounding country.

On returning, my kind host made such immediate and complete arrangements for our accommodation, as guarantied to my ménage not only comfort, but some degree of splendor. On reaching the house that had been made ready for our reception, my friend, the curate, informed me that it was mine, and desired me to call for whatever I wished. The saddlebags and hammock were sent for, and everything was soon in a comfortable condition. The table was supplied with refreshments, and ornamented with large earthen cups of cool water, on the surface of which full-blown red roses were floating. The garden attached to my house, which I supposed, of course, was included in the gift, was fragrant with ripe oranges, and other delicious fruits. Besides all these, a whole troop of Indians were in attendance, to await my behests. There stands the Casa-real, our deserted hovel, just across the way. These sudden changes absolutely require nerve.

Between the kindness of the curate, the company of a civil dignitary of the town, and two other citizens, as guests, and a supper, which, I flatter myself, I was fully prepared to appreciate, served up with the unusual luxury of knives and forks, I contrived to pass one of the most agreeable evenings that I had enjoyed since my departure from home.

At three o’clock on the following morning, we made ready to leave. The church was already lighted up, and the worthy curate at his post. At four we were in our saddles, and were soon making our way upon the road. The sky was clear and bright. The moon was half gone, throwing a sombre light upon all things around us. The green bushes by the road-side looked black; and the bleached wood of the rude crosses, erected at the pathway entrances to the haciendas, appeared forlorn and startling.

We met with but one living thing upon the road, and that was the mail-carrier. Neither the trampling of horses, nor the sound of horn, heralded his approach; but the clamping sounds of his wooden sandals, as they struck upon the stony road, gave us the first notice that he was near. The mail was contained in a small box, held by a strap, which passed round the head of the carrier, who was an Indian.

At eight o’clock we arrived at Sitax, the prettiest town we had seen; where we stopped for breakfast and to obtain a horse, that of José having given out. As I strolled about the place, I noticed a more marked appearance of order than was generally to be seen in the other towns. At the house of an old Indian I saw an earthen vase, something of the Etruscan shape, which he told me had been found among some of the ancient ruins in this province. He used it as an incense-burner; and refused to sell, or even to set a price upon it. Money is not omnipotent with these Indians, as in most civilized countries; and this prostration of the divinity almost startled me.

On returning to the Casa-real, breakfast and an alcalde were sent for. Both came. The former consisted of the almost undeviating course—eggs, tortillas, and frejoles; and the latter, of a strapping big Indian, barefooted, bearing his staff of office, and accompanied by one of his aids. My wants were soon explained; and he immediately despatched his aid, who brought an Indian that agreed to carry José and luggage to Valladolid, eight leagues, for the sum of half a dollar. The bargain was concluded, and the money paid in advance, as is always customary among the natives. This demand must be complied with uniformly. Even the women who wash clothes require a medio in advance, to buy soap.

The luggage was lashed to the back of a mule, and we were again upon the road. Several stops were made by the way, to visit haciendas and ranchos, (grain and cattle farms;) but little of interest occurred upon our journey. We arrived at the town of Tinum at two o’clock. The sun being excessively hot, we waited till evening. The Casa-real in this, as in other towns of the province, was the loafering-place of the Indians. They were squatted about in the shade, silent and motionless, killing time to the best of their abilities. At four o’clock we again betook ourselves to the road, and passing through several inconsiderable Indian towns, arrived at Valladolid at dusk on the fourth day of February, distance one hundred and twenty miles from Merida.

For the greater part of the way from Isamal to this city, the road is level, though somewhat rough. As we drew near to Valladolid, gentle risings were more common at intervals, particularly near the sonatos. Although this road commences at the capital, and leads through all the principal cities and towns of the interior, it is but little travelled. No wheel carriages, of any description, were seen. Transportation is mostly effected by mules—perhaps I should say, by Indians; many of whom were met upon the road with heavy packages secured upon their backs, and held by plaited ropes passed around the head in the usual manner.

After a fatiguing day’s journey, we reined up in the square of the city, before the Casa-real, and dismounted. I discovered, however, before entering, that it was full; and, upon inquiry, ascertained that it was occupied by prisoners, who were detained there while their usual place was undergoing repairs. This sort of association not being altogether agreeable to me, we remounted, and went in quest of a countryman, who I heard was residing here. Successful, after much inquiry, in finding him, my name, the object of my visit to Valladolid, &c., were all communicated to him in due form; but somehow Mr. Stephens, who had been daily expected here for the last two months, had got into the head of my new acquaintance, as I afterwards learned, and, in his confusion, he had mistaken me for that celebrated traveller, and led me, without my being aware of the misconception, to the house of a friend who had been long advised of that gentleman’s approach. I was met by the polite and hospitable owner of the house, and invited to walk in, while orders were given to have care taken of the horses. But, mistrusting that all was not right, I halted at the threshold, and requested a parley. It was only with a considerable degree of earnestness that I was enabled to convince him that I was neither Mr. Stephens nor the Medico, (alluding, probably, to Dr. Cabot, one of the companions of Mr. Stephens.) The amiable lady and her daughter were quite amused at the incident, and seemed rather to enjoy my embarrassment than otherwise. I drew off, and followed my countryman to his quarters, where I was kindly entertained for the night. This was rather a laughable circumstance; but I congratulated myself that we came to an understanding in time to prevent its becoming ludicrous.

The ROAD SIDE.

CHAPTER V.

Festival of the Purification—A Factory Discovered—New Quarters—Appearance of Public Buildings—Church—Singular Display of Taste—Population and Health—The Town—Its Suburbs—Monastic Ruins—Remarkable Sonato—Amusements—The Riband Dance—The Market Place—Cotton—Ancient Ruins—Difficulties of Strangers—A Norther—Kaua—The Churlish Curate—End of a Feast—The Route—Approach to Chi-Chen—A Glimpse of the Ruins.

Travelling gear was now thrown aside, the toilet consulted, and in a few moments I was in a procession in honor of the “Purification of the Holy Virgin,” with head uncovered, as devout a Catholic as could be met within the precincts of the Vatican, or, at least, within the congregation about me, if I might be permitted to judge from the appendix to their devotional exercises on the present occasion. The men, women, and children, as soon as they had concluded these ceremonies here, started in a body, with a revolting precipitation, to the gaming tables, which had been set forth in the ruins of an old convent adjoining the sanctuary where the procession had just been dissolved! Here were found all classes of society, male and female. The highest ecclesiastical and civil dignitaries were there, hob and nob, with the most common of the multitude. The ladies generally interested themselves in the games, and sometimes played deep. They were, most of them, good-looking, and tastefully dressed; but they quite stared me out of countenance. I doubtless appeared as strange to them, as they and their customs did to me. I contrived, however, to survive their scrutiny. After lounging about the long corridors where the company was assembled, observing and being observed for two hours, and feeling fatigued, not only with the scenes around, but with the day’s ride, I hastened to my quarters, and the quiet of the pillow.

Awaking at an early hour in the morning, the sounds of a steam-engine greeted my ear. No music ever thrilled me with so much delight. For a moment I dreamed that I was in the land of the workingman, and within the charmed circle of his ministrations. On looking out, however, in the direction whence the noise proceeded, I noticed a cotton factory in a neighboring street. I need not say that it became the very first object of my curiosity.

The proprietor of this establishment, to whom I had letters, is a gentleman of the old school, well informed and communicative; and, withal, a liberal man. He was a native of Spain; in his early years was attached to the navy of that kingdom; and, among other things in his eventful life, was at the battle of Trafalgar. Since he has resided in Yucatan he has been its governor, and held many other high and responsible stations, and is now esteemed one of its most valuable citizens. His attentions to me, during my stay, were as real as they were unremitting. He informed me that the factory was established by himself, in connexion with others, in 1834. The engine, looms, &c., were brought from New-York, and transported across the country, from the port of Sisal to this place, in wagons imported for the purpose. It was an arduous as well as a very expensive undertaking. The proprietor has overcome many obstacles which he had to encounter at the commencement of his enterprise, and is now successfully established, with a very fair business. His was the first, and is still the only one in the country. I found it in complete order, and conducted upon the most liberal scale, yielding to those employed more than double the amount of wages usually paid in this state. The building was of the most durable stone; two stories high, forty-five by seventy-five feet, and with an arched roof, supported by strong butments. The style of the arched roof is common to this country, owing to the absence of large timber. The ground it occupies, including the out-houses, is about one hundred and fifty by two hundred feet. The first floor contains the looms, twenty in number; and the second, a thousand spindles, with a picker and gin. It turns out four hundred yards of cloth per day, of a uniform medium quality, of a strong texture, which is considered superior to either the American or the English of the same class. It employs fifty men, principally of the half-breeds, who are paid by the piece. The cost of the building and machinery was upwards of forty thousand dollars.

The traveller, in this country, is often subjected to the unpleasant necessity of thrusting himself upon the civility of the inhabitants of the towns he visits, owing to the almost total absence of public houses, and the miserable condition of many of the Casa-reals; but foreign visiters are seldom here, so that the kindnesses I have thus far experienced, appear to be tendered with the utmost cheerfulness. The people do not feel the presence of a guest to be irksome; and, whatever may be said of their characters, the want of hospitality to strangers cannot be charged against them.

The kind friend to whom I have alluded, procured for me comfortable quarters in an unoccupied building in the square, of which I at once took possession. It is situated in front of the church, and adjoins the curate’s house, which is tenanted by himself and his three or four femmes propres à tout, and fifteen or sixteen children, who are taught to call him father.

The square itself is a fine one; or, rather, there is room for a fine one; but, like most other fine squares in the towns I have visited, is destitute of style or decoration. The public buildings, which are the town-house, of two stories, with low pillared arches, and the church, are all that strike the eye of the stranger; the others are comprised of some few one-story dwelling houses and stores, with huge doors and barred windows, occupied by citizens and small dealers. The area of this square serves as a market-place, and a pasture for mules to graze!

The church presents a neat appearance from without, and is one of the very handsomest buildings I had seen in the country. It is of stone, covered with a yellow stucco. The door lintels and arches are of carved stone; it has two square turrets, in good keeping, and is set off with a well-proportioned dome. There are some irregularities, however; but these are not seen, except from particular points of observation. The interior of this, as of most of the churches in the province, is in a bad condition; its decorations are in barbarous taste, and its shrines defaced. Its exterior impresses one with an idea of its vastness; but, on entering, it appears diminutive. This is owing to the great depth of the walls, of this and similar buildings throughout Yucatan, which are frequently from twelve to fifteen feet thick. At the entrance is a shrine, representing our Saviour bearing his cross, assisted by the figure of a man in tight shorts, of the old English style, and coat to match. The hat worn by the adjutant was not absolutely bad, but in shocking bad taste. It was a silk imitation beaver; being one of those high, bell-crowned narrow-rims, of the style worn some fifteen or twenty years ago. This was probably intended for “Simon of Cyrene.” The incumbent of this curacy has a large income, which, it is said, he has enjoyed for many years, without having ever entered the walls of his church.

The number of inhabitants of Valladolid and its suburbs, is estimated at about fifteen thousand. The place is noted throughout the peninsula for the salubrity of its climate; and no better evidence need be adduced, than the simple fact of there not being a single doctor or apothecary in the whole district. Citizens from other parts of the province, less favored, come here to recruit and to recover their health.

The streets are well laid out, and clean; but grass grows in the centre of the most frequented. The same style of building is observed here as in other parts of this country that I have visited. The houses are principally of one story, flat roofs, large doors, and barred windows; with court-yards, stone and mortar floors, &c. Many large houses in the chief streets, within sight of the square, were fast going to decay.

There are no societies, or private or public places of instruction or amusement. This is singular, when it is considered that the native inhabitants speak of their noble city, as they term it, with great pride, and call themselves the élite of Yucatan. This point I am not prepared to dispute. It is certain, however, that the city, or its society, presents few evidences of the schoolmaster having been abroad among them.

The suburbs, or “barrios” as they are locally called, are five in number; each having a church and its attendant priest. The population, with a very few exceptions, is composed of poor Indians, the major part of whom, of both sexes, go habitually in puris naturalibus, or nearly so; living in mean huts, and supporting large and expensive churches; while they themselves appear to be contented to subsist alone upon corn and water.

In the barrio Sisal is the ruin of an old convent. Its crumbling walls tell of changes that are slowly developing themselves in the civilized world. It was an immense structure in its time, covering a space of two acres, enclosed within a high stone wall; and remains a painful monument of the mighty power which the order of Loyola, its original proprietors, once exercised upon the destinies of this country. All that is now left is the church, and the house of the priest. The cloisters, corridors, and squares, are all fast going to pieces; and fragments of them are lying about in every direction. Its spacious halls are now the abode of the poor Indian, who aspires to a portion of the hallowed influence which is reputed to hang around its dilapidated walls. The crumbling turrets and blackened domes are covered with a wild vegetation, and have become a perch for the buzzard, and the hiding-place for loathsome reptiles. One of the wells connected with the monastery is dug through a solid rock to the depth of one hundred and fifty feet, when it opens upon a subterraneous river of pure water. In former times, a handsome temple was erected over it; the remains of a part of its dome still exist. There are not many pleasing associations connected with these places.

The other barrios have nothing of interest. They are thickly populated by the listless natives, who, as usual, live in their small huts, constructed with poles and mud. Nothing was to be observed like thrift or industry. They were the most wretched specimen of human beings that I saw in the country. The churches, too, like all things else around them, are growing old. Literally, every thing appears to be left here to take care of itself. The roads in the vicinity are narrow, broken, rocky pathways for mules.

During my walks about the city I came to a sonato, reputed to be the largest in the province, supposed to be a portion of a subterraneous river; and caused, as I judged, by some great convulsion of nature. It presents a fine spectacle, resembling the mouth of a cavern, with its overhanging rocks and broken fragments left or worn away into the shape of inverted cones. Evidently, it was once hidden; and when or how it effected an opening, no one hereabouts can tell. All that the Indian knows is, that it affords him an abundant and good supply of water. The average depth of the water is twelve fathoms; while the distance from its surface to the surface of the ground above, is full fifty feet. The well itself has no perceptible outlet, and is about fifty feet in circumference. The surrounding rocks are principally calcareous, with a silicious intermixture. These sonatos are held in superstitious reverence by the Indians. They are reputed to be the places where most of their religious legends had their origin.

SONATO near VALLADOLID.

The Indians and Mestizos here still hold on to some of the old customs and amusements of their forefathers, upon which they pride themselves. Among the latter, that of dancing appears to be most popular in Valladolid, and usually takes place every fair evening, during the festivals, in or near one of the squares. Around the place designated for the entertainment, as I frequently observed, were placed benches for the dancing-girls, who arrange themselves in a row, separated from the crowd. They are chosen in regular rotation, and led out to dance. Their toilet was of the olden time, but it set off their plain features and low stature to good advantage. Their head-gear was a black silk hat, of the style usually worn by gentlemen, with gold and silver bands, intermixed with roses and long plumes of feathers; and their rich black hair, neatly braided, hung down the back, and almost swept the ground. The dress consisted of a loose white garment, suspended gracefully from the shoulders, ornamented at the top and bottom with various colored needlework, and white silk stockings and shoes—the whole beautiful and chaste. They danced with much skill and taste. The men wore shirts and trousers made of calico, with sash and blanket. The latter article is thrown over the shoulder, and carried with a grace which one looks for in vain out of Mexico. The sight was altogether enchanting; and I imagined for the moment that I beheld before me the royal abundance and Indian simplicity of the court of Montezuma.

The three days of masquerade before lent, (Ash-Wednesday,) commenced on Sunday, the sixth of February. The riband, or pole dance, among the masqueraders, excited the most attention. A pole, about twenty feet long, was raised perpendicularly, from the top of which were fastened fifteen or twenty pieces of wide, variously-colored ribands. Each dancer, laying hold of a piece and extending it, formed a wide circle around the pole. The dancing commenced at a given signal, all joining. They crossed each other with the greatest precision, and in such order as to form a beautiful lattice or network with the ribands, until they were wound up. The figure then suddenly changes, and the ribands, by a reverse movement, are unwound. This they continue until they are tired. The evenings of the three days were finished by balls at the house of some one of the citizens, where the most respectable part of the population was to be seen.

The market-places of the interior, generally, present a singular appearance to the eye of a stranger. The sellers are principally Indians, squatted about upon the ground, with small pieces of meat laid out in piles, and vegetables displayed in the same manner, upon benches beside them, in the public square. The currency, of cacao seed, is also counted out in small parcels, ready to make change to customers. The market-place is vacated at an early hour in the morning by both customers and venders, to be occupied, for the remainder of the day, by turkey-buzzards and dogs; which are suffered to legislate upon, negotiate for, and try as best they may, any disputed claims which may arise to the property left behind by their predecessors of the morning.

The country in the vicinity of Valladolid is much broken and rocky, and carries unequivocal indications of earthquakes and convulsions. The soil is very thin, but good crops of corn are taken from it. The fruit-trees of the tropics are abundant, and yet no attention is paid to their cultivation, either for use or for ornament.

The cotton plantations, or rather the districts where the material is raised that is consumed in the manufactory in this city, are to the north, and known as the “Tizimin district.” The same spot is seldom cultivated for two successive seasons. After the crop is gathered, the ground is suffered to be overrun with weeds and brushwood; which, when years have elapsed, are cut down and burnt, and the field is re-planted. Cotton here is not in classification; it is gathered and sold in the seed, and ranges from ten to fifteen cents per pound. It is generally superior, both in texture and color; but the indolence of the natives, and other causes, will prevent the extensive cultivation of that article for many years to come.

I learned, during my sojourn here, that there were many interesting places, further to the east, worthy the attention of the stranger—ancient buildings, and even cities—some as far east as the island of Cozumel. I also heard of ruins in the neighborhood of Chi-Chen, which, for reasons that need not be mentioned, I concluded to visit first. The owner of this hacienda, which is situated about eleven leagues to the west-south-west from this city, resides here. Having learned my intentions, he not only very generously offered me the use of his house, which is near to the ruins, but sent his major-domo to have it prepared for my reception.

On the morning of the eighth of February, after again experiencing the instability and fickleness of the natives, and that apathy and indolence proverbially characteristic of them, I succeeded, through the aid of my friend, in securing a guide and horse to conduct us thither. The Indian, who is the traveller’s sole reliance, as previously remarked, in all kinds of menial service, can hardly be induced to work, unless from the necessity of supplying his own immediate wants, or under the orders of the alcalde, to whom strangers are often obliged to apply for assistance in compelling these indolent people to assist them. In such a case, the aggrieved party enters his complaint to the alcalde, stating that he has endeavored to hire an Indian, but that he refuses. The Indian is then sent for, and his reasons for declining heard: if not satisfactory, and they seldom are, he is commanded to attend the traveller, and the amount of his compensation fixed at the time. The penalty for disobedience is imprisonment, which, however, is seldom incurred.

We were upon the road at an early hour, but had not proceeded far before we experienced “a norther” of rain and wind—a kind of tempest peculiar to these regions, and exceedingly annoying. We stopped at an Indian’s hut for shelter; but the dilapidated state of the walls offered so insufficient a protection from the elements, that I soon concluded to make headway under their fury, and to endeavor to reach the town of Kaua, where we expected to find a good retreat. The ride over the slippery rocks was slow and hazardous, but at three o’clock we reached the long looked-for place, where we had pictured to ourselves so much happiness in the change of clothes and comfortable lodgings. How fallacious, sometimes, are our brightest anticipations! On arriving at the Casa-real, (the traveller’s first hope,) every thing was found to be comfortless and forbidding. Our clothes were drenched, and the storm continued unabated.

The curate was the next resort; he lived close by. So, dripping with the rain, and trembling with cold, we went to his house, and gave such a shivering knock, that it might have denoted our pitiable condition without the necessity of words to explain it. After some delay, a short, thick-set, gray-headed old man came to the door, inquiring, rather gruffly, what was wanted? A single glance might have told him; but we, however, verbally stated our situation, and requested his advice. All we could obtain from him in answer was, “Nadie, Nadie!”—with such an emphatic and significant shrug, that I was sure he had practised it all his life. I left as I had entered, rather coolly. Slightly scanning his room, however, I observed, in a corner, a table covered with broken pieces of cups, the floor filled with old chairs, books, &c., and dirt in abundance. I had little difficulty in believing the grapes were sour. I pocketed my ungracious reception as well as might be, and returned through the streets to the Casa-real, partly to see of what sort of people this pious churl, to whom I was a stranger, and who took me not in, was the Corypheus, and partly to get an idea of the topography of the place. I found my home had much improved by my absence. I was now in a state of mind to look at it with far greater satisfaction than when I left it. We built a huge fire upon the floor, warmed ourselves, and dried our clothes; and over our supper, that we had just bought of the Indians, decided, that it was better to submit to the evils that we already had, than “to fly to others that we knew not of.”

Only one white man was seen in the place, and it is questionable whether he were so all the way through. He was the curate, of whose tender mercies I had received so refreshing a specimen.

In my walk, I witnessed a scene which was calculated to excite both pity and disgust. In front of the church were collected some forty or fifty drunken Indians, with the log drum and other uncouth instruments, including their voices, making up with discordant and hideous noises a celebration of the last day of the masquerade. One of the prime actors in this revel eventually became so affected by the liquor he had drunk, that he became decidedly mad—striking about him and raving furiously. His companions were obliged to secure him by ropes, and have him carried to his hut.

By eight o’clock on the following day, I was mounted and on the route. The roads were somewhat more passable, though the same rocky surface, with occasional rises, was encountered. I observed one sugar-plantation on my way; the cane, which was then nearly ready to be cut, looked very well.

As I approached Chi-Chen, and while not more than four or five miles distant, I observed the roadside was strewn with columns, large hewn stones, &c., overgrown with bushes and long grass. On our arrival, at noon, we were most cordially received by the major-domo at the hacienda: the horses were taken into good keeping, and I was conducted to quarters which had been prepared in anticipation of my coming. These were in the church near by, in that part which is known to us as the vestry-room; and a very comfortable room I found too for my purposes.

This church stands upon a rise of land that over-looks the country for a considerable distance around, embracing the hacienda, and, probably, the most remarkable ruins the world has ever known. I found the major-domo as unremitting in his attentions as if he had been made for me expressly. The eighty Indians attached to the hacienda, the house and all its contents, as he assured me, were mine. I ought to be comfortable and happy. This, and the surrounding attractions, offered every facility for repose. There never could be found a more delightful place for dreaming life away in a state of irresponsible vegetation than the one now presented to me. The climate—the example and behavior of Nature about me—almost tempted me to abandon myself to the enchantment of its charming indolence.

I cast my travelling equipments aside, and, delighted with the attentions showered upon me, and which I am happy to say were the harbingers of an unremitting series from my host, I proceeded to the house for breakfast. Entering through a well-formed arch, built of stone, smooth plastered, I passed into a large cattle-yard, which was divided into three parts by stone walls, (in this manner the whole premises were enclosed,) and ascended a small flight of steps that were carried over a long and well-cemented watering-trough for the accommodation of cattle, which extended the whole length of the front. On reaching the corridor, the walls and floor presented to me a singular appearance. Here was an odd and startling figure—the god, perhaps, of a forgotten people; and there a beautiful rosette: and even beneath my feet were pieces of carved stone and hieroglyphics that seemed as though they were striving to make me understand the story of their wonderful beginning. Within reach of the eye were to be seen the fragments and ornaments of pillars that once, possibly, embellished the palace of a proud cacique, stuck into the rude wall of the poor Indian’s hut! Lost in meditation, I was soliloquizing to myself upon the transitory nature of all human greatness, when I was suddenly aroused by stumbling over a huge—heap of beans! This brought me back at once to the world of reality, and to my welcome breakfast. This meal was served upon a clean stool; and, seated in a hammock, I made a hearty repast.

My house was one-story, built of stone from the ruins in the vicinity, with spacious corridors in front and rear. It had but four rooms, which served for an eating and sleeping room, granary, &c. At the side of the building was a deep well, to which the Indians and cattle look for their drink. The water is drawn up by means of buckets, attached by twigs to a plaited strap of the same material, passed around a cylinder, which is turned by a mule. In the revolutions, the buckets are emptied into reservoirs; and thence the water is led off by conductors to the different places where it is required. A few vegetables were growing about the premises; but little or no cultivation was perceptible. Fruits of the tropics, here, as elsewhere in this province, grow in abundance. I proceeded to the ruins almost immediately after my arrival; but their description must be reserved for another chapter.

The favorable anticipations respecting the comforts of my quarters were fully confirmed. Though the furnishing was somewhat unique, still I found myself comfortably domicileiated. A huge stone altar stood at one extremity of the room, upon which rested a cross, with curiously painted devices of sculls, boxes, ladders, knives, cocks, temples, flags, &c., the whole capped with the expressive initials of I N R I. On either side stood small boxes, containing dolls, representing saints, &c. In the corner of the room were sundry pieces of carved wood, exhibiting the figure of our Saviour crucified. The sides were filled up with tables and platforms, to carry the saints on, in the processions. Numerous wooden candlesticks were scattered about, hither and yond, intermingled with hammocks, riding equipments, &c.

CHAPTER VI.

A visit to the Ruins—Reflections—Indian Visiters—Detail of the Ruins of Chi-Chen—The Temple—The Pyramid—The Dome—The House of the Caciques—General Ruins—Mounds—Foundations—Characteristics of the Ruins—Materials and Manner of Building—The finish—Fresco paintings.

Plan of the Ruins of CHI-CHEN

It was on the morning of the 10th of February that I directed my steps, for the first time, toward the ruins of the ancient city of Chi-Chen.[^[4]] On arriving in the immediate neighborhood, I was compelled to cut my way through an almost impermeable thicket of under-brush, interlaced and bound together with strong tendrils and vines; in which labor I was assisted by my diligent aid and companion, José. I was finally enabled to effect a passage; and, in the course of a few hours, found myself in the presence of the ruins which I sought. For five days did I wander up and down among these crumbling monuments of a city which, I hazard little in saying, must have been one of the largest the world has ever seen. I beheld before me, for a circuit of many miles in diameter, the walls of palaces and temples and pyramids, more or less dilapidated. The earth was strewed, as far as the eye could distinguish, with columns, some broken and some nearly perfect, which seemed to have been planted there by the genius of desolation which presided over this awful solitude. Amid these solemn memorials of departed generations, who have died and left no marks but these, there were no indications of animated existence save from the bats, the lizards, and the reptiles which now and then emerged from the crevices of the tottering walls and crumbling stones that were strewed upon the ground at their base. No marks of human footsteps, no signs of previous visiters, were discernible; nor is there good reason to believe that any person, whose testimony of the fact has been given to the world, had ever before broken the silence which reigns over these sacred tombs of a departed civilization. As I looked about me and indulged in these reflections, I felt awed into perfect silence. To speak then, had been profane. A revelation from heaven could not have impressed me more profoundly with the solemnity of its communication, than I was now impressed on finding myself the first, probably, of the present generation of civilized men walking the streets of this once mighty city, and amid

“Those temples, palaces, and piles stupendous,

Of which the very ruins are tremendous.”

For a long time I was so distracted with the multitude of objects which crowded upon my mind, that I could take no note of them in detail. It was not until some hours had elapsed, that my curiosity was sufficiently under control to enable me to examine them with any minuteness. The Indians for many leagues around, hearing of my arrival, came to visit me daily; but the object of my toil was quite beyond their comprehension. They watched my every motion, occasionally looking up to each other with an air of unfeigned astonishment; but whether to gather an explanation from the faces of their neighbors, or to express their contempt for my proceedings, I have permitted myself to remain in doubt up to this day. Of the builders or occupants of these edifices which were in ruins about them, they had not the slightest idea; nor did the question seem to have ever occurred to them before. After the most careful search, I could discover no traditions, no superstitions, nor legends of any kind. Time and foreign oppression had paralyzed, among this unfortunate people, those organs which have been ordained by the God of nations to transfer history into tradition. All communication with the past here seems to have been cut off. Nor did any allusion to their ancestry, or to the former occupants of these mighty palaces and monumental temples, produce the slightest thrill through the memories of even the oldest Indians in the vicinity. Defeated in my anticipations from this quarter, I addressed myself at once to the only course of procedure which was likely to give me any solution of the solemn mystery. I determined to devote myself to a careful examination of these ruins in detail.

DESCRIPTION OF THE RUINS OF CHI-CHEN.

Indian knife and sheath.

My first study was made at the ruins of the Temple.[^[5]] These remains consist, as will be seen by reference to the engraving, of four distinct walls. I entered at an opening in the western angle, which I conceived to be the main entrance; and presumed, from the broken walls, ceilings, and pillars still standing, that the opposite end had been the location of the shrine or altar. The distance between these two extremes is four hundred and fifty feet. The walls stand upon an elevated foundation of about sixteen feet. Of the entrance, or western end, about one-half remains; the interior showing broken rooms, and ceilings not entirely defaced. The exterior is composed of large stones, beautifully hewn, and laid in fillet and moulding work. The opposite, or altar end, consists of similar walls, but has two sculptured pillars, much defaced by the falling ruins—six feet only remaining in view above them. These pillars measure about two feet in diameter. The walls are surrounded with masses of sculptured and hewn stone, broken columns, and ornaments, which had fallen from the walls themselves, and which are covered with a rank and luxuriant vegetation, and even with trees, through which I was obliged to cut my way with my Indian knife. In the rear of the pillars are the remains of a room, the back ceilings only existing; sufficient, however, to show that they were of rare workmanship.

The southern, or right-hand wall, as you enter, is in the best state of preservation, the highest part of which, yet standing, is about fifty feet; where, also, the remains of rooms are still to be seen. The other parts, on either side, are about twenty-six feet high, two hundred and fifty long, and sixteen thick; and about one hundred and thirty apart. The interior, or inner surface of these walls, is quite perfect, finely finished with smooth stone, cut uniformly in squares of about two feet. About the centre of these walls, on both sides, near the top, are placed stone rings, carved from an immense block, and inserted in the wall by a long shaft, and projecting from it about four feet. They measure about four feet in diameter, and two in thickness—the sides beautifully carved.

The extreme ends of the side-walls are about equidistant from those of the shrine and entrance. The space intervening is filled up with stones and rubbish of walls, showing a connexion in the form of a curve. In the space formed by these walls are piles of stones, evidently being a part of them; but there were not enough of them, however, to carry out the supposition that this vast temple had ever been enclosed. At the outer base of the southern wall are the remains of a room; one side of which, with the angular ceiling, is quite perfect; measuring fourteen feet long and six wide. The parts remaining are finished with sculptured blocks of stone of about one foot square, representing Indian figures with feather head-dresses, armed with bows and arrows, their noses ornamented with rings; carrying in one hand bows and arrows, and in the other a musical instrument similar to those that are now used by the Indians of the country. These figures were interspersed with animals resembling the crocodile. Near this room I found a square, pillar, only five feet of which remained above the ruins. It was carved on all sides with Indian figures, as large as life, and apparently in warlike attitudes. Fragments of a similar kind were scattered about in the vicinity.

THE TEMPLE,
CHI-CHEN RUINS.

From this room, or base, I passed round, and ascended over vast piles of the crumbling ruins, pulling myself up by the branches of trees, with which they are covered, to the top of the wall; where I found a door-way, filled up with stones and rubbish, which I removed, and, after much labor, effected an entrance into a room measuring eight by twenty-four feet; the ceiling of which was of the acute-angled arch, and perfected by layers of flat stones. The walls were finely finished with square blocks of stone, which had been richly ornamented. Even yet the heads of Indians, with shields and lances, could be distinguished in the coloring.

The square pillars of the door-way are carved with Indians, flowers, borders, and spear-heads; all of which I judged to have once been colored. The lintel, which supported the top, is of the zuporte[^[6]] wood, beautifully carved, and in good preservation. One of the Indian head-dresses was composed of a cap and flowers.

Immediately in front of the door-way is a portion of a column, to which neither cap nor base was attached. It measured about three feet in diameter, with its whole surface sculptured; but it was so obliterated by time, that the lines could not be traced. Four feet of its length only could be discovered. It was, evidently, imbedded in the ruins to a great depth. Numerous blocks of square hewn stones, and others, variously and beautifully carved, were lying in confusion near this column.

Of the exterior of these walls, a sufficient portion still exists to show the fine and elaborate workmanship of the cornices and entablatures, though the latter are much broken and defaced. They are composed of immense blocks of stone, laid with the greatest regularity and precision, the façades of which are interspersed with flowers, borders, and animals.

THE PYRAMID,
CHI-CHEN RUINS.

From this portion of the ruins I cut my way, through a dense mass of trees and vegetation, to the eastern extremity of the walls, the top of which was much dilapidated, and obstructed with occasional piles of broken and hewn stone. On my return, I descended to, and walked along the outside base of the wall to the rear of the shrine, and over immense blocks of hewn and carved stone, some of which were, no doubt, the butments of altar walls; as similar blocks were near here appropriated to such purposes.

I returned by the outside of the northern wall. The whole distance was filled up with heaps of ruins, overgrown with trees and vines; through which I cleared my way with the greatest difficulty.

From the temple I proceeded to The Pyramid, a few rods to the south. It was a majestic pile; measuring at its base about five hundred and fifty feet, with its sides facing the cardinal points. The angles and sides were beautifully laid with stones of an immense size, gradually lessening, as the work approached the summit or platform.