Aztec Land, Maturin Murray Ballou [always you kirsty moseley .TXT] 📗

soldiers comparatively insignificant. The defenders of the place were raw and undisciplined, and composed of the worst possible material. Many of them were peons who had been impressed at the point of the bayonet; others were taken from the prisons and put at once into the ranks. As we have already stated, this is a common practice in Mexico.

In the environs of the town is what is called the hill of Guadalupe, famous in the annals of Mexican history, this being the principal battle-ground of the 5th of May. The Mexican forces were four thousand strong, defended by earthworks improvised by cutting down the walls of the church of Guadalupe. The French troops were six thousand strong. The defenders were under command of General Zaragoza; the French, under General de Lorencez, who attacked the fort with great dash and vigor. The Mexicans repulsed them with heavy loss to the attacking party. It was not a very important battle, but its moral effect upon the Mexicans was excellent. They realized that they were comparatively raw troops, and that their enemies were trained soldiers of the much-lauded French army. Though it was only a gallant repulse, it was heralded all over the country as being a great victory, and probably had as much effect upon the popular mind as though it had been. It gave them courage to continue their warfare against the invaders with increased determination. Five years later, the position was reversed, when General Porfirio Diaz--now President--took Puebla by storm and made prisoners of its French defenders. Between the occurrence of these battles the fortifications on the hill of Guadalupe had been erected. The view from the fort is one of extraordinary interest, taking in three snow-capped mountains, and affording a comprehensive panorama of the city with its myriad domes and fine public buildings, the tree-decked Plaza Mayor, the alameda, the stone bridge over the Aloyac, while over the Cerro de San Juan is seen the church of Los Remedios, which crowns the great earth-pyramid of Cholula. To the south of the city lies the interesting suburb of Jonaco, and to the north, on the hill of the Loreto, stands the fort of the Cinco de Mayo.

Puebla contains between eighty and ninety thousand inhabitants, and is rated as the fourth city of the republic in point of population and general importance. It certainly rivals the larger cities in the character of its principal buildings, which are mostly constructed of granite, as well as in some other respects. Among the citizens it bears the fanciful name of La Puebla de los Angeles (The City of the Angels). One might reasonably think this was on account of its beautiful situation and salubrious climate; the veracious chroniclers tell us it was because the walls of the grand cathedral were erected amid the songs of angels. What would any Roman Catholic institution be in Mexico without its mystery and miracles? In this instance, the legend runs to the effect that the angels built as much each night upon the walls of the church while it was erecting as the terrestrial workmen did each day. It is of basaltic material, supported by massive buttresses, and as a whole is surpassingly grand. High up over the central doorway of the main front is placed in carved stone the insignia of the order of the Golden Fleece. The interior is as effective and elegant as that of any church we can recall, having some fine old bronzes and valuable paintings, the latter well worthy of special attention, and embracing some thirty examples. The woodwork upon the grand altar shows an artistic excellence which is rarely excelled. The two organs are encased, also, in richly carved wood, exhibiting figures of angels blowing trumpets. The interior adornments, as a whole, are undoubtedly the finest of any church or cathedral in Mexico. A majority of writers consider that the cathedral of the national capital is the grandest church on the continent of America, but with this we cannot agree; to our mind, the cathedral of Puebla, all things considered, is its superior.

Puebla might be appropriately called the city of churches, for, at a short distance, the countless domes and steeples looming above the flat tops of the houses are the main feature. We believe that it has as many edifices occupied for religions purposes as the city of Mexico. The twin towers of its stately cathedral are especially conspicuous and beautiful. The town was founded three hundred and sixty years ago, and retains, apparently, more of its ancient Spanish character than most of its sister cities. From any favorably situated spot in the town, for instance from the hill of Guadalupe, one beholds rising in the southwest, twenty-five miles away, the snowy crown of the world-renowned Popocatepetl, the view of this mountain being much superior to that had at the national capital, while the two hardly less famous mountains of Orizaba and Iztaccihuatl are also in sight, though at farther distances. The rarefied atmosphere makes all these elevations clear to the view with almost telescopic power.

The nights here are a revelation of calmness and beauty. The stars are much brighter than they appear to us in the dense atmosphere we inhabit. The North Star and the Southern Cross are both visible, though only a portion of the Dipper is to be seen. Within the points of the Southern Cross there is a brilliant cluster of stars, which are not apparent to the naked eye, but which are made visible by the use of the telescope, shining like a group of gems in a choice necklace. How glorious is the sky on such nights as we experienced at Puebla, so full of repose; no force can disturb its eternal peacefulness! Below, all about us, rages a nervous activity; every one is stricken with the fever of living; but we raise our eyes to that broad, blue, star-spangled expanse, and behold only the calm, adorable majesty of heaven.

There are extensive manufactories in Puebla, especially in cotton goods, leather, soap, hats, matches, and earthenware; indeed, it has been called the Lowell of Mexico. It is also destined to become eventually a considerable railroad centre, having already established connections with the capital, Vera Cruz, and other important points. There are six railroad depots in the city, each representing a more or less important railway line.

The stranger is agreeably struck with the appearance of Puebla at first sight, and is confirmed in this impression as he becomes better acquainted with its mild and healthful climate, tempered by being more than seven thousand feet above the sea level, its wide, cleanly streets, running exactly east and west, north and south, its beautiful, flower-decked Plaza Mayor, its fine public squares, the interesting Moorish _portales_ nearly surrounding the plaza, its gray old churches, and its neat stores and houses, having their various-colored fronts ornamented by iron balconies. The ever-present contrast between wealth and poverty, so striking in most of the Mexican cities, did not seem so prominent here. The people were certainly better clothed, and looked more cleanly and respectable. We saw very few beggars in the streets. The lame and the blind must have been taken care of by the municipal authorities, for none were to be seen in public. The city is clean in all its visible belongings. There are no offensive smells, such as greet one in the badly-drained capital of the republic. The thoroughfares teem with a bright, cheerful population, often barefooted and in rags, to be sure, but still smiling and good natured. True, we first saw the town under favorable auspices, it being Palm Sunday, and those who had them probably donned holiday costumes. The Plaza Mayor was radiant with the brilliant colors of the rebosas and serapes, agreeably relieved by the black lace mantillas of the more select senoras and senoritas. Many of these wore marvelously high heels, not infrequently having only Eve's stockings inside of their gayly-ornamented boots! The Indian women who had come to town to see the church ceremonials formed an unconscious but interesting portion of the holiday show in their sky-blue or red rebosas, and the variegated skirt wound about waists and hips, leaving the brown limbs and bare feet exposed. They were gathered all about the square, awaiting their opportunity; and as half a hundred came pouring down the broad steps, others hastened to take their places inside the church.

The cathedral already alluded to forms one whole side of the Plaza Mayor. It is not quite so large as that of the city of Mexico, though it has the effect of being so. Like that, it stands upon a raised platform, built of dark porphyritic stone, the surface being five or six feet above the level of the plaza. The principal front is in the Doric style; but the two tall side towers are Ionic. The two domes, covered with the glittering native tiles, throw back the sunlight with a dazzling mottled effect. The chapels of the interior are perhaps a little tawdry with their profuse gilding, and the main altar is dazzling with gold, having cost, it is stated, over a hundred thousand dollars. The pulpit is especially curious, and was carved by a native artist from onyx, which came from a neighboring quarry. The floor is of marble, while that of the more pretentious edifice at the city of Mexico is of wood, a token indicative of more important matters wherein the Puebla cathedral is superior in finish. The main roof, with its castellated cornice and many pinnacles, its broken outlines, and crumbling, gray old stone sides, is wonderfully picturesque.

Not many years ago there hung from the lofty ceiling a famous and most beautiful golden lamp of exquisite workmanship, the intrinsic value of which is said to have been over one hundred thousand dollars. During the civil war it was ruthlessly broken up and coined into doubloons to aid General Miramon to keep the field while representing the church party. The bells attached to the cathedral are of the most costly character and of superior excellence. These are eighteen in number, the largest of which weighs about ten tons. One is at a loss to understand why so many and so expensive bells are required, since they are not arranged as chimes, and have no apparent connection with each other.

A typical picture is recalled which presented itself as we entered for the first time the broad portal of the cathedral, where an old, wrinkled, bare-limbed woman, poor and decrepit, sat upon the stones at the entrance of the church offering rosaries for sale. She did not speak, but held up a cross with its attachments, accompanied by a look so cadaverous, so weak and pitiful, that she got the silver she desired and kept her beads. The poor creature, so aged, emaciated, and ragged, had somehow a strangely significant look about her, suggestive of having known better days. It was a festal occasion, and many bright-eyed senoritas, casting stolen glances about them while accompanied by their duennas, were passing into the church. What a contrast of youth and age, between these fair young creatures so richly clad, so fresh and full of life, and the faded, hopeless vender of rosaries resting her weary limbs on the flinty portal!

The Mexican ladies have none of the languor of their continental sisters, but are overflowing with vivacity and spirit. We remember these buds of humanity at the church door; they seemed to be "spoiling" for a chance flirtation, looking out from deep black eyes full of roguishness. Within the dimly-lighted church the smell of burning incense, the sharp tinkling of the bell before the distant altar, the responsive kneeling and bowing of the worshipers, the dull murmur of the officiating priest, the deep, solemn tones of the great organ,--all combined to impress themselves upon the memory, if