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narrow shelf barely wide enough for the cars to pass, which is said to have required seven years to render available. We can well conceive it to have been so, for the whole road from Vera Cruz to Mexico was about five times seven years in building. The view is at times such as to incline the experienced traveler to hold his breath, if not to close his eyes, in a tremor of excitement. In the steepest part of the route the descent is at the rate of one hundred thirty-three and one third feet to the mile! Were a wheel to break, an iron nut to give way, or the trusted brakes fail to operate, what a frightful catastrophe would instantly follow!

Between Orizaba and Cordova, a few rods off the line of the railway to the left as we go from the former to the latter place, is a dark, cavernous passage cut through the hillside a hundred feet or more, leading to the view of a waterfall of great beauty and of considerable size. It is closely framed on all sides by dark green foliage, tall and graceful trees partially overhanging it. Dainty orchids and beautiful ferns hang upon the damp rocks and the brown tree-trunks. Here the cars stop for a brief period, to enable us to delight our eyes and ears by the sight and sound of the riotous waters. A waterfall or cascade in this climate is enhanced in importance for many reasons; the very sight of rushing, foaming water has a cooling and refreshing effect when the thermometer is at 90 deg. Fahr. The rank, tropical verdure, the depth of the sombre gorge, the tumultuous, sparkling waters, the cool, welcome shade, and the ceaseless anthem of the falls make the charming spot a scene long to be remembered. One would have liked to linger there for hours. Finally, after having passed over a distance of nearly twenty miles, we cross the bridge of Metlac, built over a river of the same name, and arrive in sight of Cordova, whose domes and towers are just far enough away to clothe them in a soft, inviting, amber hue.

Cordova is situated in the fertile valley of the Rio Seco, and in the midst of a sugar and coffee producing district about seventy miles west of Vera Cruz, nearly upon the direct line between the Gulf and the city of Mexico. To be exact, it is sixty-six miles from the former city and two hundred from the latter. Speaking of coffee, the region wherein it thrives and is remuneratively productive is very large in Mexico. It grows down to the coast and far up into the table-lands, but it does best in an altitude of from one to three thousand feet above the level of the sea. In this region, as we have already indicated, a berry is produced which we consider equal to the product of any land. Under proper conditions the republic could furnish the whole of this country with the raw material wherewith to produce the favorite beverage, enormous as is the consumption. The bananas of this region were found to be especially luscious and appetizing. In growth this is a beautiful, thrifty, and productive annual, forming a large portion of the food supply of the humbler classes, and a favorite dessert at the tables of the rich. From the centre of its large, broad, palm-like leaves, which gather at the top of the thick stalk, twelve or fifteen inches in diameter, when it has reached a height of about ten feet, there springs forth a large purple bud, eight or nine inches long, shaped like a huge acorn, but a little more pointed. This cone hangs suspended from a strong stem upon which a leaf unfolds, displaying a cluster of young fruit. As soon as these have become fairly set, this sheltering leaf drops off and another unfolds, exposing its little brood of young fruit, and the process goes on until eight or ten rings of small bananas are started, forming bunches, when ready to pick, of from seventy-five to a hundred of the finger-like product. After bearing, the stalk and top die, but it sprouts up again from the roots, once more to go through the liberal process of producing a crop of luscious fruit. It is said that the banana is more productive and requires less care or cultivation than any other food-producing growth in the tropics or elsewhere.

Neither Florida nor Cuba can furnish finer oranges than are grown in vast quantities in the region round about Cordova. Peddlers offer them by the basketful to passing travelers, ripe and delicious, two for a penny; also, mangoes, bananas, pineapples, and other tropical fruits, at equally low prices. Great quantities are shipped to other cities by rail, and passengers carry away hundreds in baskets daily. Coffee and sugar are, however, the staple products. Among the neighboring planters, as we were told, are a few enterprising Americans, who have lately introduced more modern facilities than have been in use heretofore for planting, cultivating, packing, and the like. A coffee plantation is one of the most pleasing tropical sights the eye can rest upon, where twenty-five or thirty acres of level soil are planted thickly with the deep green shrub, divided into straight lines, which obtains the needed shade from graceful palms, interspersed with bananas, orange and mango trees. Coffee will not thrive without partial protection from the ardor of the sun in the low latitudes, and therefore a certain number of shade and fruit trees are introduced among the low-growing plants. The shrub is kept trimmed down to a certain height, thus throwing all the vigor of the roots into the formation of berries upon the branches which are not disturbed. So prolific is the low-growing tree thus treated that the small branches bend nearly to the ground under the weight of the ripening berries. Conceive of such an arrangement when the whole is in flower, the milk-white blossoms of the coffee so abundant as to seem as though a cloud of snow had fallen there and left the rest of the vegetation in full verdure, while the air is as heavy with perfume as in an orange grove.

The soil between here and Orizaba is considered to be of the richest and most fertile in all Mexico. Plantations devoted to the raising of cinchona have proved quite profitable. Four times each year may the sower reap his harvest amid perpetual summer. We saw some fine groves of the plantain, the trees twelve feet high and the leaves six feet long by two in width. This, together with the banana, forms the chief feature as regards the low-growing foliage in all the tropical regions about the Gulf of Mexico, gracefully fanning the undergrowth with broad-spread leaves, and affording the needed shade. The stem of the plantain gradually decays, like the banana, when the fruit has ripened, after which the young shoots spring up from the roots once more to produce the abundant and nourishing food. It does not seem to have any special season, but is constantly in bloom and bearing. The accumulation of sugar and starch in the fruit makes it a most valuable source of food in the tropics, while the product from a small area of land is enormous when compared with that of cultivated grains and fruits generally.

The cacao, the source from whence our chocolate comes, was originally found in Mexico, where its seeds once formed the money, or circulating medium, of the aboriginal tribes. It grows here in abundance and to great perfection.

Cordova has between six and eight thousand inhabitants. It is nearly three thousand feet above sea level, and is rarely troubled with yellow fever; but ague is common. The streets are very regular and are all paved. On one side of the plaza is the cathedral, a grand edifice with a gaudily-finished interior. The central plaza, though small, is exquisitely kept, full of flowers, and vivid with the large scarlet tulipan. The ground is well-filled with fruit-trees and palms, interspersed with smooth paths, and furnished with ornamental iron seats. On the outside of the plaza is the market, where rows of country-women sit on their haunches in true Asiatic fashion, beside their articles for sale. This class of women here affect high colors in their rude costumes, wearing a profusion of cheap coral and silver ornaments, besides a peculiar headdress, more Neapolitan than Mexican. It is quite the thing in speaking of Cordova to remember that it was here, in 1821, that the treaty was signed between Iturbide and O'Donoju, which officially recognized the independence of Mexico. The vicinity of the town abounds in antique remains. An organized party was engaged in exhuming old pottery and other domestic utensils at the time of our visit.


CHAPTER XVI.


The City of Vera Cruz.--Defective Harbor.--The Dreaded and also Welcome Norther.--San Juan d'Ulloa.--Landing of Cortez.--His Expedition Piratical.--View of the City from the Sea.--Cortez's Destruction of his Ships.--Anecdote of Charles V.--A Sickly Capital.--Street Scenes. --Trade.--The Mantilla.--Plaza de la Constitucion.--Typical Characters.--Brilliant Fireflies.--Well-To-Do Beggars.--Principal Edifices.--The Campo Santo.--City Dwelling-Houses.--The Dark-Plumed Buzzards.--A City Fountain.--A Varied History.--Medillin.--State of Vera Cruz.


Vera Cruz, which is at present the principal seaport of the republic, and which has heretofore been considered as the gateway of Mexico, is without a harbor worthy of the name, being situated on an open roadstead and affording no safe anchorage among its shoals, coral reefs, and surf. It is not safe, in fact, for vessels to moor within half a mile of the shore. A cluster of dangerous, merciless-looking reefs, together with the island of San Juan d'Ulloa, form a slight protection from the open Gulf. A sea-wall shelters the street facing upon the water, and there is a serviceable mole where boats land from the shipping when a "norther" is not blowing; but when that prevails no one attempts to land from vessels in the roadstead. No wonder that underwriters charge double to insure vessels bound to so inhospitable a shore. Even in ordinary weather a surf-drenching has sometimes to be endured in landing at the mole. This is a serious objection to the port where every ton of freight must be transferred between ship and shore by lighters. Nevertheless, this difficulty might be easily overcome by the construction of a substantial breakwater, such as has lately been successfully built at Colombo, Ceylon, or that which has robbed the roadstead of Madras, India, of its former terrors. To be sure, such a plan requires enterprise and the liberal expenditure of money. Unless the citizens open their purses and pay for the needed improvement, which would promptly turn their exposed shore into a safe harbor, they will have to submit to seeing the present commerce of the port diverted to Tampico, where suitable engineering is about to secure an excellent harbor. Improvements are of slow growth in this country. The railway between this city and the national capital was over thirty years in building, and cost fully forty million dollars.

The captain of a freighting steamer sailing out of New York told the writer that he had more than once been obliged, at certain seasons of the year, to sail from Vera Cruz carrying back to his port of departure a portion of his cargo, as there was no time while the ship remained here that he dared to risk the landing of valuable goods liable to be spoiled by exposure to a high-running sea.

When a norther comes on to blow at Vera Cruz, all the vessels remaining near the city let go an extra anchor and batten down the hatches; or, wiser still, they let go their ground tackle and hasten to make an offing. The natives promptly haul their light boats well on shore; the citizens securely close their doors and windows; while