 17. Arrival at the Pena Casco. Lake with wild duck. Ruined hacienda. Sunset on the plains. Troop of asses. Ride by moonlight. Leave the Pena Casco. Sun Miguel. Description. Thunderstorm. Quasco. Journey to Rial del Monte. English road. Scenery. Village of Rial. Count de Regla. Director's house. English breakfast. Visit to the mines. The Cascade. The storm. Loneliness. A journey in storm and darkness. Return to the Pena Casco. Journey to Sopayuca. Narrow escape. Famous pool. Return to Mexico. The Pena Casco. This is a fine, wild scene. The house stands entirely alone. Not a tree near it. Great mountains rise behind it and in every other direction, as far as the eye can reach are vast plains over which the wind comes whistling fresh and free, with nothing to impede its triumphant progress. In front of the house is a clear sheet of water, a great deep square basin for collecting the rain. These hagways, as they are called, are very common in Mexico, where there are few rivers and where the use of machines for raising water is by no means general as yet. There is no garden here, but there are a few shrubs and flowers in the inner courtyard. The house inside is handsome, with a chapel and a patio, which is occasionally used as a plaza de toros. The rooms are well fitted up and the bedroom walls covered with a pretty French paper representing scenes of Swiss rural life. There are great outhouses, stables for the mules and horses and stone barns for the wheat and barley, which, together with a pulque, form the produce of this hacienda. We took a long ride this morning to visit a fine lake where there are plenty of wild duck and turtle. The gentlemen took their guns and had tolerable sport. The lake is very deep, so that boats have sailed on it and several miles in circumference, with a rivulet flowing from it. Yet with all this water the surrounding land, not more than twenty feet higher, is dry and sterile and the lake is turned to no account, either from wantive means or of hydraulic knowledge. However, seeing Anne having made some observation on the subject, the proprietor of the lake end of a ruined house standing near, which is the very picture of loneliness and desolation, remarked in reply that from this estate to Mexico the distance is thirty-six leagues, that a load of wheat costs one real, a league, and moreover the Alcaba, the duty which has to be paid at the gates of Mexico, so that it would bring no profit if sent there, while in the surrounding district there is not sufficient population to consume the produce, so that these unnecessary and burdensome taxes, the thinness of the population and the want of proper means of transport, impede the prosperity of the people, and check the progress of agriculture. I had a beautiful horse, but half broke, and which took fright and ran off with me. I got great credit for keeping my seat so well, which I must confess was more through good fortune than skill. The day was delightful, the air exhilarating and the blue sky perfectly cloudless as we galloped over the plains, but at length the wind rose so high that we dismounted and got into the carriage. We sat by the shores of the lake and walked along its pebbly margin, watching the wild duck as they schemed over its glassy surface, and returned home in a magnificent sunset the glorious god himself, a blood-red globe surrounded by blazing clouds of gold and crimson. In the evening a troop of asses were driven across the plain and led round to the back of the house, and we were all called out in haste, and each desired to choose one of the long-eared fraternity for our particular use. Some had saddles and some had none, but we mounted to the number of thirty persons, followed by a cow-valcade of little ragged boys armed with sticks and whips. My ass was an obstinate brute whom I had mistakenly chosen for his sleek coat and open countenance, but by dint of being lashed up he suddenly set off at full gallop and distanced all the others. Such screaming and laughing and confusion and so much difficulty in keeping the party together. It was nearly dark when we set off, but the moon rose, the silver disc lighting up the hills and the plains, the wind fell, and the night was calm and delightful. We rode about six miles to a pretty little chapel with a cross that gleamed amongst the trees in the moonlight by the side of a running stream. Here we dismounted and sat by the brink of the little sparkling rivulet while the deep shadows came stealing over the mountains, and all around was still and cool and silent, all but the merry laughter of our noisy cavalcade. We returned about eleven o'clock, few accidents having occurred. Donya R.A. had fallen once. Donya M. had crushed her foot against her neighbor's ass. The padre was shaken to a jelly and the learned senator, who was of the party, declared he should never recover from that night's jolting. Tomorrow we shall set off for Real del Monte. Seventeenth. After mass in the chapel we left de Pena Casco about seven o'clock and travelled, I believe by a short cut, over rocks and walls, torrents and fields of mague, all in a heavy carriage with six horses. Arriving inside of walls the mozos gallop on and tear them down. Over the mountain torrents or barancas they dash boldly, encouraging the horses by the wildest shrieks. We stopped at San Miguel, a country house belonging to the Count de Regla, the former proprietor of the mines, which we were about to visit, the most picturesque and lovely place imaginable, but entirely abandoned, the house comfortless and out of repair. We wandered through paths cut in the beautiful woods and by the side of a rivulet that seems to fertilize everything through which it winds. We climbed the hills and made our way through the tangled luxurients of trees and flowers, and in the midst of hundreds of gaudy blossoms I neglected them all upon coming to a grassy slope covered with daisies and butter-cups. We even found some hawthorn bushes. It might be English scenery worried not that there is a richness in the vegetation unknown in England, but all these beautiful solitudes are abandoned to the deer that wander fearlessly amongst the woods and the birds that sing in their branches. While we were still far from the house, a thunderstorm came on. When it rains here, the windows of heaven seem opened and the clouds pour down water in floods, the lightning also appears to me peculiarly vivid, and many more accidents occur from it here than in the north. We were drenched in five minutes, and in this plight resumed our seats in the carriage and set off for Gwasco, a village where we were to pass the night in the midst of the pelting storm. In an hour or two the horses were wading up to their knees in water, and we arrived at the pretty village of Gwasco in a most comfortless condition. There are no inns in these parts, but we were hospitably received by a widow-lady, a friend of Blanks. The senora de Blanc in clear muslin and lace with satin shoes was worse than I in muslin, dillain, and brode queens. Nevertheless I mean to adopt the fashion of the country tomorrow, when we are to rise at four to go on to the Real del Monte, and try the effect of travelling with clear gown, satin petticoat, and shoes ditto, because when one is in Rome, etc. The storm continues with such unabated violence that we must content ourselves with contemplating the watery landscape from the windows. Tepena Gwasco Rose in Gwasco at four o'clock, dressed by candlelight, took chocolate and set off for Real del Monte. After we had travelled a few leaks, tolerably cold, we rejoiced when the sun rose and dispelling the mist through his cheerful light over mountain and wood. The trees looked green and refreshing after their last night's bath. The very rocks were sparkling with silver. The morning was perfectly brilliant, and every leaf and flower was glittering with the raindrops not yet dried. The carriage ascended slowly the road cut through the mountains by the English company, a fine and useful enterprise, the first broad and smooth road I have seen as yet in the Republic, until it was made hundreds of the mules daily conveyed the oar from the mines over a dangerous mountain path to the Hacienda Vregla, a distance of six or seven leagues. We overtook wagons conveying timber to the mines of Real, nine thousand feet above the level of the sea. The scenery was magnificent. On one side, mountains covered with oak and pine, and carpeted by the brightest coloured flowers, goats climbing up the perpendicular rocks and looking down upon us from their vantage ground, fresh clear rivlets flinging themselves from rock to rock, and here and there, little Indian huts perched amongst the cliffs on the other, the deep valley with its bending forests and gushing river, while far above we caught a glimpse of Real itself with its sloping roofs and large church standing in the very midst of forests and mountains. We began to see people with fair hair and blue eyes, and one individual with a shock of fiery red hair and an undeniable scotch twang I felt the greatest inclination to claim as a countryman. The Indians here looked cleaner than those in or near Mexico, and were not more than half-naked. The whole country here, as well as the mines, formerly belonged to the Count de Regla who was so wealthy that when his son, the present Count, was pristine, the whole party walked from his house to the church upon ingots of silver. The Countess, having quarreled with the vice-queen, sent her, in token of reconciliation, a white satin slipper entirely covered with large diamonds. The Count invited the King of Spain to visit his Mejican territories, assuring him that the hooves of his Majesty's horse should touch nothing but solid silver from Veracruz to the capital. This might be a bravado, but a more certain proof of his wealth exists in the fact that he caused two ships of the line of the largest size to be constructed in Havana at his expense, made of mahogany and cedar, and presented them to the King. The present Count was, as I already told you, married it to the beautiful daughter of the Guera Rodríguez. We arrived at Rial del Monte about nine o'clock and drove to the director's house, which is extremely pretty, commanding a most beautiful and extensive view, and where we found a large fire burning in the grate, very agreeable, as the morning was still somewhat chill, and which had a look of home and comfort that made it still more acceptable. We were received with the greatest cordiality by the director, Mr. Ruel and his lady, and invited to partake of the most delicious breakfast that I have seen for a long while, a happy melange of English and Macon. The snow-white tablecloth, smoking tea urn, hot rolls, fresh eggs, coffee, tea, and toast looked very much a lying glaze, while there were numbers of substantial dishes alike's bannuel, and delicious fresh cream cheeses to all which our party did ample justice. After breakfast we went out to visit the mines, and it was curious to see English children clean and pretty, with their wide hair and rosy cheeks, and neat straw bonnets mingled with the little copper-coloured Indians. We visited all the different works, the apparatus for sawing, the turning lath, foundry, etc., but I regretted to find that we could not descend into the mines. We went to the mouth of the shaft called the Dolores, which has a narrow opening and is entered by perpendicular ladders. The men go down with conical caps on their heads, in which is stuck a lighted tallow candle. In the great shaft called Tereros they descend, by means of these ladders, to the depth of a thousand feet, there being platforms at certain distances on which they can rest. We were obliged to content ourselves with seeing them go down, and with viewing and admiring all the great works which English energy has established here. The various steam engines, the buildings for the separation and washing of the ore, the great stores, workshops, offices, etc., nearly all the workmen are British, and of those the Scotch are preferred. Most of the miners are Indians who work in companies and receive in payment the eighth part of the proceeds. The director gave of some specimens of silver from the great heaps where they lie, sparkling like Genie's treasure. Although I have not descended into these mines, I might give you a description of them by what I have heard, and fill my paper with arrhythmical figures, by which you might judge if the former and the present produce. I might tell you how Don Lucas Alaman went to England and raised as if by magic, the enthusiasm of the English, how one fortune after another has been swallowed up in the dark, deep gulf of speculation, how expectations have been disappointed. And how the great cause of this is the scarcity of quick silver, which has been paid at the rate of one hundred and fifty dollars per quintal in real cash, when the same quantity was given at credit by the Spanish government for fifty dollars, how heaps of silver lie abandoned, because the expense of acquiring quick silver renders it wholly unprofitable to extract it. And I might repeat the opinion of those persons by whom I have heard the subject discussed, who expressed their astonishment that such being the case, an arrangement is not made with a country which is the almost exclusive possessor of the quick silver mines, by which it might be procured at a lower rate and this great source of wealth not thrown away. But for all these matters I refer you to Humboldt and Ward by whom they are scientifically treated, and will not trouble you with superficial remarks on so important a subject. In fact I must confess that my attention was frequently attracted from the mines and the engines and the works of man and the discussions arising therefrom to the stupendous natural scenery by which we were surrounded, the unexplored forests that clothe the mountains to their very summits, the torrents that leaped and sparkled in the sunshine, the deep ravines, the many tinted foliage, the bold and jutting rocks, all combined increase our admiration of the bounties of nature to this favorite land to which she has given every herb-bearing seed, and every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food, while her veins are rich with precious metals, the useful and the beautiful offered with unsparing hand. We were obliged to leave Real about two o'clock having a long journey to perform before night, as we had the intention of returning to sleep at the Penas Casco. We took leave of our hospitable entertainers and again resumed our journey over these fine roads, many parts of which are blasted from the great rocks of porphyry, and as we looked back at the picturesque colony glistening in the sun, could hardly believe the prophecies of our more experienced drivers, that a storm was brewing in the sky which would burst forth before evening. We were determined not to believe it, as it was impossible to pass by the famous hacienda and ravine of Regla, without paying them at least a short visit. This stupendous work of the Mexican miners in former days is some leagues to the south of Real del Monte, and is said to have cost many millions of dollars. One should view it, as we did, in a thunderstorm, for it has an air of vastness and desolation, and at the same time of grandeur that shows well amidst a war of the elements. Down in a steep baranka encircled by basaltic cliffs it lies a mighty pile of building which seems as if it might have been constructed by some philosophical giant or necromancer, so that one is not prepared to find there an English director and his wife and the unpoetic comforts of roast mutton and potatoes. All is on a gigantic scale, the immense vaulted storehouses for the silver ore, the great smelting furnaces and covered buildings where we saw the process of amalgamation going on, the water wheels, in short, all the necessary machinery for the smelting and amalgamation of the metal. We walked to see the great cascade with its row of basaltic columns and found a seat on a piece of broken pillar beside the rushing river where we had a fine view of the lofty cliffs, covered with the wildest and most luxuriant vegetation, vines trailing themselves over every broken shaft, moss creeping over the huge disjointed masses of rock and trees overhanging their precipitous ravine. The columns look as if they might have been the work of those who, on the plains of Shiner, began to build the city in the tower whose top was to reach to heaven. But as we sat here the sky suddenly became overcast, great black masses of cloud collected over our heads and the rumbling of thunder in the distance gave notice of an approaching storm. We had scarcely time to get under shelter of the director's roof when the thunder began to echo loudly amongst the rocks and was speedily followed by torrents of rain. It was a superb storm, the lightning flashed amongst the trees, the wind held furiously, while far along from peak to peak the rattling crags among leapt the live thunder. After resting and dining amidst a running accompaniment of splashing rain, roaring wind and deep-toned thunder, we found that it was in vain to wait for a favourable change in the weather. And certainly with less experienced drivers it would have been anything but safe to have set off amidst the darkness of the storm, down precipitous descents and over torrents swelled by the rain. The Count de Regla, who, attracted by the plentiful supply of water in this ravine, conceived the idea of employing part of his enormous fortune in the construction of these colossal works, must have had an imagination on a large scale. The English directors, whose wives bury themselves in such abysses, ought to feel more grateful to them than any other husbands towards their sacrificing better halves. For the men occupied all day amongst their workmen and machinery, and returning late in the evening to dine and sleep, there is no great self-immolation, but a poor woman living all alone, in a house fenced in by gigantic rocks, with no other sound in her ears from morning till night but the roar of thunder, or the clang of machinery had the need for her personal comfort, to have either a most romantic imagination, so that she may console herself with feeling, like an enchanted princess in a giant's castle, or a most commonplace spirit, so that she may darn stockings to the sound of the waterfall, and feel no other inconvenience from the storm, but that her husband will require dry linen when he comes home. As for us, we were drenched before we reached the carriage, into which the water was pouring, and when we set off once more amidst the rapidly increasing darkness, and over these precipitous roads we thought that our chance of reaching the proposed haven that night was very small. After much toil to the horses we got out of the ravines, and found ourselves once more on the great plains where the tired animals plowed their way over fields and ditches and gravestones, and among trees entangled bushes, an occasional flash of lightning our only guide. Great was our joy when, about eleven o'clock, a man riding on in advance shouted out that the lights of Tepanásco were in sight, and still more complete our satisfaction when we drove round the tank into the courtyard of the hacienda. We were received with great applause by the inmates, and were not sorry to rest after a very fatiguing yet agreeable day. MEHICO XXI. We left Tepanásco the day before yesterday. Our journey was very dangerous, in consequence of the great rains, which had swelled the torrents, especially as we set off late, and most of it was performed by night. In these barancas carriages and horsemen have been frequently swept away and dashed in pieces over the precipices, but to make our situation more disagreeable we had scarcely set off before a terrible storm of thunder and rain again came on with more violence than the night proceeding. It grew perfectly dark, and we listened with some alarm to the roaring torrents over which especially over one, not many leagues from Sopayuca where we were to spend the night. It was extremely doubtful whether we could pass. The carriage was full of water, but we were too much alarmed to be uneasy about trifles. Amidst the howling of the wind and the peeling of thunder, no one could hear the other speak. Suddenly by a vivid flash of lightning the dreaded barancas appeared inside for a moment, and almost before the drivers could stop them the horses had plunged in. It was a moment of mortal fear such as I shall never forget. The shrieks of the drivers to encourage the horses, the loud cries of Ave Maria, the uncertainty as to whether our heavy carriage could be dragged across, the horses struggling and splashing in the boiling torrent and the horrible fate that awaited us should one of them fall or falter. The senora blank and I shut our eyes and held each other's hands, and certainly no one breathed till we were safe on the other side. We were then told that we had crossed within a few feet of a precipice over which a coach had been dashed into fifty pieces during one of these swells, and of course every one killed, and that if instead of horses we had travelled with mules we must have been lost. You may imagine that we were not sorry to reach Sopayuca where the people ran out to the door the sound of carriage wheels, and could not believe that we had passed the Barranca that night as two or three horsemen who had rode in that direction had turned back and pronounced it impassable. Lights and supper were soon procured and by way of interlude a monstrous bull of great fame in these parts was led up to the supper table for our inspection with a rope through his nose, a fierce brute but familiarly called El Chato, the flat nose from the shortness of his horns. The lightning continued very vivid and they told us that a woman had been struck there some time before while in the chapel by night. We rose at four o'clock the next morning and set off for Mexico. The morning as usual after these storms was peculiarly fresh and beautiful but the sun soon grew oppressive on the great plains. About two o'clock we entered Mexico by the Guadalupe gate. We found our house in status quo, agreeable letters from Europe, great preparations making for the English ball to assist at which we have returned sooner than we otherwise should and for which my fame de chambre has just completed a dress for me very much to her own satisfaction. End of letter the 17th. Letter the 18th of life in Mexico. This is a LibriVox recording, all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Life in Mexico by Francis Calderon de la Barca. Letter the 18th. English ball, dresses, diamonds, mineria, arrival of the Pope's bull, consecration of the archbishop, foreign ministers, splendor of the cathedral, description of the ceremony. Twenty-fifth. The English ball at the mineria has passed off with great eclat. Nothing could be more splendid than the general effect of this noble building brilliantly illuminated and filled with a well-dressed crowd. The president and core diplomatic were in full uniform and the display of diamonds was extraordinary. We ladies of the core diplomatic tried to flatter ourselves that we made up in elegance what we wanted in magnificence. For in jewels no foreign ladies could attempt to compete with those of the country. The daughter of Countess Blanc just arrived from Paris and whose acquaintance I made for the first time wore pale blue with garlands of pale pink roses and a par d'or of most superb brilliance. The Signora de Ayes, head, reminded me of that of the Marquiones of Londonderry in her opera box. The Marquesa de Vivanco had a riviere of brilliance of extraordinary size and beauty and perfectly well-set. Madame S.R. wore a very rich, blonde dress, garney, with plumes of ostrich feathers, a large diamond fastening each plume. One lady wore a diadem which Blanc said could not be worth less than a hundred thousand dollars. Diamonds are always worn plain or with pearls, colored stones are considered trash, which is a pity as I think rubies and emerald set in diamonds would give more variety and splendor to their jewels. There were a perfusion of large pearls generally of a pear shape. The finest and roundest were those worn by the Signora de Ayes. There were many blonde dresses, a great fashion here. I know no lady without one. Amongst the prettiest and most tastefully dressed girls were the E.S., as usual. Many dresses were overloaded, a common fault in Mexico, and many of the dresses, though rich, were old-fashioned. But the Coupe de O.L. was not the less brilliant, and it was somewhat astonishing in such a multitude not to see a single objectionable person. To be sure, the company were all invited. On entering the noble court, which was brilliantly illuminated with colored lamps, hung from pillar to pillar and passing up the great staircase, we were met at the first landing by Mr. P. in full uniform and other English gentlemen, the directors of the ball, who stood there to receive the ladies. His excellency led me upstairs to the top of the ballroom where chairs were placed for the president, ladies of the diplomaties, cabinet ministers, etc. The music was excellent, and dancing was already in full force, and though there were assembled what is called All Mexico, the rooms are so large that the crowd was not disagreeable, nor the heat oppressive. Pictures of Queen Victoria were hung in the different large halls. The supper tables were very handsome, and in fact, the ball altogether was worthy of its object. The M.S. always do these things well when they attempt them. The president took me to supper. The company walked into the music of God Save the Queen. After we had sat a little while, the president demanded silence and, in a short speech, proposed the health of Her Majesty Queen Victoria, which was drank by all the company standing. After supper we continued dancing till nearly six in the morning, and when we got into the carriage it was broad daylight, and all the bells were ringing for mass. This is the best ball we have seen here without any exception, and it is said to have cost eleven thousand dollars. There were certainly a great number of pretty faces at this fit, many pretty girls whom we had not seen before, and whom the English secretaries have contrived to an earth. Fine eyes are a mere drug, everyone has them, large dark full orbs with long silken lashes. As for diamonds, no man above the rank of a lepero marries in this country without presenting his bride with at least a pair of diamond earrings or a pearl necklace with a diamond clasp. They are not always a proof of wealth, though they constitute it in themselves. Their owners may be very poor in other respects. They are considered a necessary of life quite as much, so as shoes and stockings. June the 2nd On the 15th of April the pontifical bulls arrived from Rome, confirming the election of the Senor Posada to the Archepiscopal dignity. And on Saturday last, the 31st of May, the consecration took place in the cathedral with the greatest pump. The presiding bishop was the Senor Balaun Zaran, the old bishop of Linares. The two assistant bishops were the Senor Madrid, a young good-looking man who, having been banished from Mexico during the revolution, took refuge in Rome where he obtained the favor of the pope, who afterwards recommended him to an Episcopal sea in Mexico, and the doctor Morales, formerly bishop of Sonora. His padrino was the president. General Bustamante, who in his capacity presented his godson with a splendid pastoral ring, a solitary diamond of immense size. All the diplomatic body and the cabinet went in full uniform, chairs being placed for them on each side of the crugia, the passage leading to the altar. A dispute upon the subject of precedence arose between an excellency of the diplomatic corps and the secretary of state, which seems likely to have disagreeable consequences. I had the pleasure of kneeling beside these illustrious persons for the space of three or four hours, for no seats were placed for the wives either of the diplomats or of the cabinet. But the ceremony, though long, was very superb, the music fine, the quantity of jewels on the dresses of the bishops and priests, and on the holy vessels, etc., enormous. The bishops were arrayed in white velvet and gold, and their mitres were literally covered with diamonds. The gold candlesticks and golden basins for holy water and golden incensories reminded me of the description of the ornaments of the Jewish tabernacle in the days of Moses, of the candlesticks of pure gold with golden branches, and the tongs and snuff dishes of pure gold, or of the temple of Solomon, where the altar was of gold and the table of gold, and the candlesticks and the snuffers and the basins and the spoons and the censors were of pure gold. The pontifical vestments, destined for the elected primate, were all prepared. Sandals, emis, surplus, girdle, pectoral cross, stole, gown, vestment, with open sleeves, the dalmatica, crosshair, mitre, pontifical ring, etc. Magnificent chairs were prepared for the bishops near the altar, and the president in uniform took his place amongst them. The presiding bishop took his seat alone with his back to the altar, and the senor Posada was led in by the assisting bishops, they with their mitres, he with his priest's cap on. Arrived before the presiding bishop, he uncovered his head and made a profound obeisance. These three then took their places on chairs placed in front, and the ceremony having begun, in case you should wish to have some idea of it, I shall endeavor to give it to you, for I was so situated that although the cathedral was crowded to excess, I could see and hear all that passed. Let me premise, however, that there was not one lepero, as there are always excluded on such occasions. Posada and his assisting bishops rose and uncovered their heads, and the bishop Morales turning to the presiding bishop said, Most reverend Father, the Holy Catholic Mother Church requests you to raise this presbyter to the charge of the Archbishopric. Have you an apostolic mandate? We have. Read it. An assistant priest then read the mandate in a loud voice, upon which they all sat down, and the consecrator sang, Thanks be to God! Then the Posada kneeling before him took an oath upon the Bible, which the bishop held, concluding with these words, So may God help me, and these his holy Gospels. Then sitting down and resuming their mitres, the examination of the future Archbishop took place. It was very long, and at its conclusion Posada knelt before the presiding bishop and kissed his hand. To this succeeded the confession, every one standing uncovered before the altar, which was then sprinkled with incense. Then followed the mass, chanted. The assisting bishops then led out the Señor Posada to the chapel, where they put on his sandals, and where he assumed the Bacterial Cross, a miss or place, etc., and arriving at the altar read the office of the mass. He was then conducted again before the consecrating bishop, who was seated with his mitre, and after saluting him reverently he sat down. Then the bishop addressing him said, It is the duty of the bishop to judge, interpret, consecrate, ordain, offer, baptize, and confirm. All then rose, and the bishop prayed, that the newly elected primate might receive the grace of heaven. All the bishops and priests then prostrated themselves, while the litanies were sung. The presiding bishop rising took the crossier, and prayed three times for a blessing on the chosen one, thrice making on him the sign of the cross, and they continued to sing the litanies at the conclusion of which they all arose, took their seeds, and resumed their mitres, Posada alone kneeling before the bishop. The Bible was then placed upon his shoulders while he remained prostrated, and the bishop rising up pronounced a solemn benediction upon him, while the hymn of Vene Creator Spiritus was sung in full chorus. Then the bishop dipping his hand in the holy chrism, anointed the primate's head, making on it the sign of the cross, saying, Let thy head be anointed and consecrated with a celestial benediction, according to the Pontifical Mandate. The bishop then anointed his hands, making in the same manner the sign of the cross, and saying, May these hands be anointed with holy oil, and as Samuel anointed David a king and a prophet, so be thou anointed and consecrated. This was followed by a solemn prayer. Then the crosser was blessed and presented to the elected archbishop with these words, receive the pastoral crossier, that thou mayest be humanely severe in correcting vices, exercising judgment without wrath, etc. The blessing of the ring followed with solemn prayer, and being sprinkled with holy water, it was placed on the third finger of the right hand. The bishop saying, Receive the ring, which is a sign of faith, that, adorned with incorruptible faith, thou mayest guard involiably the spouse of God, his holy church. The Bible being then taken off the shoulders of the prostrate prelate, was presented to him with an injunction to receive and to preach the gospel. Finally the bishop bestowed on him the kiss of peace, and all the other bishops did so in their turn. Posada then retired, and his head and hands being washed, he soon after returned with the assistant bishops, carrying two lighted wax tapers, which he presented to the presiding bishop, together with two loaves and two small barrels of wine, reverently kissing his hand. After this the presiding bishop washed his hands and mounted the steps of the altar, and the new primate received the sacrament. The mitre was then blessed and placed upon his head with a prayer by the bishop that, thus with his head armed and with the staff of the gospels, he might appear terrible to the adversaries of the true faith. The gloves were next consecrated and drawn on his hands, the bishop praying that his hands might be surrounded by the purity of the new men. And that is Jacob, when he covered his hands with goat skins, offered agreeable meats to his father, and received his paternal benediction, so he, in offering the holy sacrament, might obtain the benediction of his heavenly father. The archbishop was then seated by the consecrating bishop on his pontifical throne, and at the same moment the hymn Thediam Iodimus was chanted. During the hymn the bishops with their jewelled mitres rose and passing through the church, blessed the whole congregation, the new archbishop still remaining near the altar and without his mitre. When he returned to his seat, the assistant bishops, including the consecrator, remained standing till hymn was concluded. The presiding bishop then advancing without his mitre to the right hand of the archbishop said, May thy hand be strengthened, may thy right hand be exalted, may justice and judgment be the preparation of thy sea. Then the organ peeled forth, and they chanted the hymn of Gloria Patrie. Long and solemn prayer followed, and then, all uncovered, stood beside the gospels at the altar. The archbishop rose and with mitre and crochet pronounced a solemn blessing on all the people assembled, then, while all knelt beside the altar, he said, for many years. Thus he repeated thrice, the second time in the middle of the altar, the third at the feet of the presiding bishop. Then, all rising, the archbishop bestowed on into the kiss of peace, and the ceremony concluded. When everything was over, our carriage not being visible amongst the crowded vehicles, I returned home in that of the blank minister, with him and his attachés, after which they and CN returned to done with the new archbishop in his palace. A dish of sweet meats was sent to me from his table, which are so pretty, probably the chef d'auvert of the nuns, that I sent them to you, to preserve as a memorial of the consecration of the first, Mexican archbishop, perhaps, of the last. End of letter the eighteenth. Letter the nineteenth of life in Mexico. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Life in Mexico by Francis Calderón de la Barca. Letter the nineteenth. Mexican servants, anecdotes, remedies, an unsafe porter, calopinas, tareboso, the sarape, women cooks, foreign servants, characteristics of Mexican servants, servants' wages, none of the Santa Teresa, motives for taking the veil. June third. You ask me to tell you how I find the Mexican servants, hitherto I had avoided the ungrateful theme from very weariness of it. The badness of the servants is an unfailing source of complaint even amongst Mexicans, much more so amongst foreigners, especially on their first arrival. We hear of their addiction to stealing, their laziness, drunkenness, dirtiness, with a host of other vices. That these complaints are frequently just, there can be no doubt, but the evil might be remedied to a great extent. In the first place, servants are constantly taken without being required to bring a recommendation from their last place, and in the next, recommendations are constantly given whether from indolence or mistaken kindness to servants who do not deserve them. A servant who has lived in a dozen different houses, staying about a month in each is not thought the worst off on that account. As the love of finery is inherent in them all, even more so than in other daughters of Eve, a girl will go to service merely to earn sufficient to buy herself an embroidered chemise, and if, in addition to this, she can pick up a pair of small old satin shoes, she will tell you she is tired of working and going home to rest. So little is necessary when one can contentedly live, on tortillas and chiles, sleep on a mat and dress in rags. A decent old woman who came to the house to wash shortly after our arrival in this country and left us at the end of the month, para descansar. Soon after she used to come with her six children, they and herself all in rags and beg the gardener to give her any odds and ends of vegetables he could spare. My maid asked her why, being so poor, she had left a good place where she got twelve dollars a month. Jesus! said she, if you only knew the pleasure of doing nothing. I wished to bring up a little girl as a servant having her taught to read so, etc. A child of twelve years old, one of a large family who subsisted upon charity, was procured for me, and I promised her mother that she should be taught to read, taken regularly to church, and instructed in all kinds of work. She was rather pretty and very intelligent, though extremely indolent, and though she had no stockings, would consent to wear nothing but dirty white satin shoes too short for her foot. Once a week her mother, a tall, slateringly woman with long tangled hair and a cigar in her mouth, used to come to visit her, accompanied by a friend, a friend's friend, and a train of girls, her daughters. The housekeeper would give them some dinner after which they would all light their cigars and together with a little Josefita, sit and howl and bemoan themselves crying and lamenting her sad fate in being obliged to go out to service. After these visits Josefita was fit for nothing. If desired to so, she would sit looking so miserable and doing so little that it seemed better to allow her to leave her work alone. Then, tolerably contented, she would sit on a mat doing nothing, her hands folded and her eyes fixed on vacancy. According to promise I took her several times to see her mother, but one day being occupied, I sent her alone in the carriage, with charge to the servants to bring her safely back. In the evening she returned, accompanied by the whole family, all crying and howling, for the love of the Most Holy Virgin, Senora Mia, por la Purisma, Concepción, etc., etc., etc. I asked what happened, and after much difficulty discovered that their horror was occasioned by my having sent her alone in the carriage. It happened that the Countess S was in the drawing room, and to her I related the cause of the uproar. To my astonishment, she assured me that the woman was in this instance right, and that it was very dangerous to send a girl of twelve years of age from one street to another in the power of the coachman and footman. Finding from such good authority that this was the case, I begged the woman to be contented with seeing her daughter once a month when, if she could not come herself, I would send her under proper protection. She agreed, but one day, having given Josefita permission to spend the night at her mother's, I received, next morning, a very dirty note, nearly eligible, which, after calling down the protection of the virgin upon me, concluded, but with much sorrow I must take my child from the most illustrious protection of your excellency, for she needs to rest herself. Es preceso che discanze, and is tired for the present of working. The woman then returned to beg, which she considered infinitely less degrading. Against this nearly universal indolence and indifference to earning money, the heads of families have to contend, as also against thieving and dirtiness, yet I think the remedy much easier than it appears. If on the one hand no one were to receive a servant into their house without respectable references, especially from their last place, and if their having remained one year in the same house were considered necessary to their being received into another, unless from some peculiar circumstances, and if on the other hand it were considered as unjust and dangerous as it really is, to recommend a servant who has been guilty of stealing as being muy honrado, very honest, some improvement might soon take place. A porter was recommended to us as muy honrado, not from his last place, but from one before. He was a well-dressed, sad-looking individual, and at the same time we took his wife as washerwoman, and his brother as a valet to our attache, thus having the whole family under our roof, wisely taking it for granted that he being recommended as particularly honest, his relations were all honourable men. An English lady happened to call on me, and a short time after I went to return her visit, when she informed me that the person who had opened the door for her was a notorious thief, whom the police had long been in search of, that she had feared sending a servant to warn us of our danger, lest, guessing the purport of her message, he might rob the house before leaving it. We said nothing to the man that evening, but he looked paler and more miserable than usual, probably foreseeing that would be the result of Mrs. Blank's visit. The next morning, C. N. sent for him and dismissed him, giving him a month's wages, that he might not be tempted to steal from immediate want. His face grew perfectly livid, but he made remark. In half an hour he returned, and begged to speak with C. N. He confessed that the crime of which he concluded he was accused, he had in fact committed that he had been tempted to a gambling-house, while he had in his pocket a large sum of money belonging to his master. After losing his own money he tried his fortune with what was not his own, lost the whole sum, then pawned a valuable shawl worth several hundred dollars, with which also he had been entrusted, and having lost everything in despair, made his escape from Mexico. He remained in concealment for some time till hearing that we wanted a porter he ventured to present himself to the housekeeper with his former certificate. He declared himself thoroughly repentant, that this was his first and would be his last crime, but who can trust the good resolutions of a gambler? We were obliged to send him away, especially as the other servants already had some suspicions concerning him, and everything stolen in the house would in future have been attributed to him. The gentleman who had recommended him afterwards confessed that he always had strong suspicions of this man's honesty and knew him to be so determined a gambler that he had pawned all he possessed even his wife's clothes to obtain money for that purpose. Now as a porter in Mexico has pretty much at his disposal the property and even the lives of the whole family, it is certainly most blameable to recommend to that situation a man whose honesty is more than doubtful. We afterwards procured two soldiers from the Invalidos, old Spaniards to act in that capacity, who had no other foibles but that of being constantly drunk. We at length found two others, who only got tipsy alternately, so that we considered ourselves very well off. We had a long series of galopinas, kitchen-mates, and the only one who brought a first-rate character with her robbed the housekeeper. The money however was recovered and was found to have been placed by the girl in the hands of a rich and apparently respectable coach-maker. He refunded it to the rightful owner and the galopina was punished by a month's imprisonment which he should have shared with her. One of the most disagreeable customs of the women's servants is that of wearing their long hair hanging down at its full length, matted, uncombed and always in the way. I cannot imagine how the Mexican ladies who complain of this permitted. Flowing hair sounds very picturesque, but when it is very dirty and suspended over the soup, it is not a pretty picture. The reboso, in itself graceful and convenient, has the disadvantage of being the greatest cloak for all untidiness, uncombed hair and raggedness that ever was invented. Even in the better classes it occasions much indolence in the toilette, but in the common people its effect is overwhelming. When the reboso drops off or is displaced by chance, we see what they would be without it. As for the sarape, it is both convenient and graceful, especially on horseback, but though Indian in its origin, the custom of covering the lower part of the face with it, is taken from the Spanish cloak, and the opportunity which both sarape and reboso afford for concealing large knives about the person, as also for enveloping both face and figure, so as to be scarcely recognizable, is no doubt the cause of the many murders which take place amongst the lower orders, in moments of excitement and drunkenness. If they had not these knives at hand, their rage would probably cool, or a fair fight would finish the matter, and if they could not wear these knives concealed, I presume they would be prohibited from carrying them. As for taking a woman cook in Mexico, one must have strong nerves and a good appetite to eat what she dresses, however palatable after having seen her. One look at her flowing locks, one glance at her reboso, etc., says Finney, and yet the Mexican servants have their good qualities and are a thousand times preferable to the foreign servants one finds in Mexico, especially the French. Bringing them with you is a dangerous experiment. In ten days they begin to fancy themselves ladies and gentlemen, the men have done, talk to their name, and they either marry and set up shops or become unbearably insolent. A tolerable French cook may occasionally be bad, but you must pay his services their weight in gold and wink at his extortions and robberies. There are one or two French restaurants who will send you in a very good dinner at an extravagant price, and it is common in foreign houses, especially amongst the English to adopt this plan whenever they give a large entertainment. The Mexican servants have some never-failing good qualities. They are the perfection of civility, humble, obliging, excessively good tempered, and very easily attached to those with whom they live. And if that rara avis, a good Mexican housekeeper, can be found, and that such may be met with, i. from experience can testify, then the troubles of the menage rest upon her shoulders, and accustomed as she is to the amiable weaknesses of her compatriotess, she is neither surprised nor disturbed by them. As for wages a good porter has from fifteen to twenty dollars per month, a coachman from twenty to thirty, many houses keep two or even three coachmen, one who drives from the box, one who rides postillian, and a third for emergencies. Our friend Blanc, who has many horses, mules, and carriages, has four, and pays forty dollars per month to his head coachman, the others in proportion. A French cook has about thirty dollars, a housekeeper from twelve to fifteen, a major domo about twenty or more, a footman six or seven, galopin and chambermaid five or six, a gardener from twelve to fifteen. Sewing girls have about three reales per diem. Porter, coachman, and gardener have their wives and families in the house, which would be an annoyance where the house is not so large. The men's servants generally are much cleaner and better dressed than the women. One circumstance is remarkable, that dirty as the women's servants are, and not withstanding the enormous size of mehican houses and mehican families, the houses themselves are, generally speaking, the perfection of cleanliness. This must be due either to a good housekeeper, which is rarely to be found, or to the care taken by the mistress of the house herself. That private houses should have this advantage over churches and theaters only proves that ladies know how to manage these matters better than gentlemen, so that one is inclined to wish Allah Marti know that the mehican police were entirely composed of old women. 12. I have formed an acquaintance with a very amiable and agreeable nun in the Convent of Santa Teresa, one of the strictest orders. I have only seen her twice, through a greeting. She is a handsome woman of good family, and it is said of a remarkably joyous disposition, fond of music and dancing and gay society, yet at the age of eighteen, contrary to the wishes of all her family, she took the veil, and declare she has never repented of it. Although I cannot see her, I can hear her voice and talk to her through a turning wooden screen, which has a very mysterious effect. She gives me an account of her occupations and of the little events that take place in her small world within, whilst I bring her news from the world without. The common people have the greatest veneration for the holy sisterhood, and I generally find there a number of women with baskets and men carrying parcels or letters, some asking their advice or assistance, others executing their commissions, bringing them vegetables or bread, and listening to the sound of their voice with the most eager attention. My friend, the Madre Blanc, has promised to dress a number of wax figures for me, in the exact costume of all the different nuns in Mexico, beginning with that of her own Convent. I have now seen three nuns take the veil, and next to a death consider it the saddest event that can occur in this nithosphere, yet the frequency of these human sacrifices here is not so strange as might at first appear. A young girl who knows nothing of the world, who, as it too frequently happens, has at home neither amusement nor instruction, and no society abroad, who from childhood is under the dominion of her confessor, and who firmly believes that by entering a convent she becomes sure of heaven, who moreover finds there a number of companions of her own age, and of older women who load her with praises and caresses, it is not, after all astonishing, that she should consent to ensure her salvation on such easy terms. Add to this the splendor of the ceremony of which she is a sole object, the synosure of all approving eyes. A girl of sixteen finds it hard to resist all this. I am told that more girls are smitten by the ceremony than by anything else, and I am inclined to believe it from the remarks I have heard made on these occasions by young girls in my vicinity. What does she lose? A husband and children. Probably she has seen no one who has touched her heart. Most probably she has hitherto seen no men, or at least conversed with none, but her brothers, her uncles, or her confessor. She has perhaps also felt the troubles of a Mexican menage. The society of men. She will still see her confessor, and she will have occasional visits from Reverend Padres and write Reverend Bishops. Some of these convents are not entirely free from scandal. Amongst the monks there are many who are openly a disgrace to their calling, though I firmly believe that by far the greater number lead a life of privation and virtue. Their conduct can, to a certain extent, be judged of by the world, but the pale nuns, devout and pure, immured in the cloister for life, dealing before the shrine, or chanting hymns in the silence of the night, avail both truly and allegorically, must shade their virtues or their failings. The nuns of the Santa Teresa and of other strict orders, who live sparingly, profess the most severe rules and have no servants or borders, enjoy a universal reputation for virtue and sanctity. They consider the other convents worldly, and their motto is, all or nothing, the world or the cloister. Each abess aids a stricter rule, a severer penance than her predecessor, and in this they glory. My friend, the Madre Blanc, frequently says, were I to be born again I should choose above every lot in life to be a nun of the Santa Teresa, but of no other convent. It is strange how all the world over mankind seems to expect from those who assume religion as a profession, a degree of superhuman perfection. Their failings are insisted upon, every eyes upon them to mark whatsoever may be a miss on their conduct. Their virtues, their learning, their holy lives, nothing will avail them, if one blot can be discovered in their character. There must be no moral blemish in the priesthood. In the Catholic religion, where more is professed, still more is demanded, and the errors of one Padre, or one Ecclesiastic, seem to throw a shade over the whole community to which they belong. Francis Calderon de la Barca The convent entry, dialogue, a chair in church, arrival of the nun, dress, Jose Maria, crowd, withdrawal of the black curtain, the taking of the veil, the sermon, a dead body, another victim, convent of the Incarnation, attempt at a hymn, invitation, morning visit, the nun and her mother, banquet, taking leave, ceremony of the veil taking, a beautiful victim, the last look, presentation to the bishop, reflections versus Fourth June Some days ago, having received a message from my nun, that a girl was about to take the veil in her convent, I went there about six o'clock, and knowing that the church on these occasions is apt to be crowded to suffocation, I proceeded to the reha, and speaking to an invisible within, requested to know in what part of the church I could have a place. Upon which a voice replied, Hermonita, my sister, I am rejoiced to see you, you shall have a place beside the godmother. Many thanks, Hermonita, which way shall I go? Voice, you shall go through the sacristy, Jose Maria. Jose Maria, a thin, pale, lank individual with hollow cheeks, who was standing near like a page in waiting, sprang forward. Madrecita, I am here. Voice, Jose Maria, that lady is the senora de cien, you will conduct her excellency to the front of the grading and give her a chair. After I had thanked the voice for her kindness in attending to me on a day when she was so much occupied with other affairs, the obsequious, Jose Maria led the way, and I followed him through the sacristy into the church, where there were already a few kneeling figures, and thence into the railed-off enclosure, destined for the relatives of the future nun, where I was permitted to sit down in a comfortable velvet chair. I had been there but a little while when the aforesaid Jose Maria reappeared, picking his steps as if he were walking upon eggs in a sick room. He brought me a message from the madre, that the nun had arrived and that the Madrecita wished to know if I should like to give her an embrace before the ceremony began. I therefore followed my guide back into the sacristy, where the future nun was seated beside her godmother, and in the midst of her friends and relations, about thirty in all. She was arrayed in pale blue satin with diamonds, pearls, and a crown of flowers. She was literally smothered in blonde and jewels, and her face was flushed, as well it might be, for she had passed the day in taking leave of her friends at a fet they had given her, and had then, according to custom, been paraded through the town in all her finery. And now her last hour was at hand. When I came in she rose and embraced me with as much cordiality as if we had known each other for years. Beside her sat the madrina, also in white satin and jewels, all the relations being likewise decked out in their finest array. The nun kept laughing every now and then in the most unnatural and hysterical manner, as I thought, apparently to impress us with the conviction of her perfect happiness, for it is a great point of honour amongst girls, similarly situated to look as cheerful and gay as possible. The same feeling, though, in a different degree which induces the gal and tywin men to jest in the presence of the multitude when the hangman's cord is within an inch of his neck. The same which makes the gal and general whose life is forfeited command his men to fire on him. The same which makes the Hindu widow mount the funeral pile without a tear in her eye or a sigh on her lips. If the robber were to be strangled in a corner of his dungeon, if the general were to be put to death privately in his own apartment, if the widow were to be burned quietly on her own hearth, if the nun were to be secretly smuggled in at the convent gate, like a bale of contraband goods, we might hear another tale. This girl was very young, but by no means pretty, on the contrary, rather, discresive par la nature, and perhaps a knowledge of her own want of attraction may have caused the world to have few charms for her. But Jose Maria cut short my train of reflections by requesting me to return to my seat before the crowd arrived, which I did forthwith. Shortly after the church doors were thrown open and a crowd burst in, everyone struggling to obtain the best seat. Musicians entered, carrying desks and music books, and placed themselves in two rows on either side of the enclosure where I was. Then the organ struck up its solemn psalmity, and was followed by the gay music of the band. Rockets were let off outside the church, and at the same time the madrina and all the relations entered and knelt down in front of the grating, which looks into the convent, but before which hung a dismal black curtain. I left my chair and knelt down beside the godmother. Suddenly the curtain was withdrawn and the picturesque beauty of the scene within baffles all description. Beside the altar which was in a blaze of light was a perfect mass of crimson and gold drapery. The walls, the antique chairs, the table before which the priests sat, all hung with the same splendid material. The bishop wore his superb mitre and robes of crimson and gold. The attendant priests also glittering in crimson and gold embroidery. In contrast to these, five and twenty figures entirely robed in black from head to foot, rearranged on each side of the room prostrate, their faces touching the ground, and in their hands immense lighted tapers. On the foreground was spread a purple carpet, bordered round with a garland of freshly gathered flowers, roses and carnations and heliotrope, the only thing that looked real and living in the whole scene. And in the middle of this knelt the novice, still a red in her blue satin, white lace veil and jewels and also with a great lighted taper in her hand. The black nuns then rose and sang a hymn, every now and then falling on their faces and touching the floor with their foreheads. The whole looked like an incantation or a scene in Robert le Diable. The novice was then raised from the ground and led to the feet of the bishop who examined her as to her vocation, and gave her his blessing, and once more the black curtain fell between us and them. In the second act she was lying prostrate on the floor, disrobed of her profane dress, and covered over with a black cloth while the black figures kneeling around her chanted a hymn. She was now dead to the world. The sunbeams had faded away as if they would not look upon the scene, and all the light was concentrated in one great mass upon the convent group. Again she was raised. All the blood had rushed into her face and her attempt at a smile was truly painful. She then knelt before the bishop and received the benediction with the sign of the cross from a white hand with a pastoral ring. She then went round alone to embrace all the dark phantoms as they stood motionless, and as each dark shadow clasped her in its arms it seemed like the dead welcoming a new arrival to the shades. But I forget the sermon which was delivered by a fat priest who elbowed his way with some difficulty through the crowd to the grading, panting and in a prodigious heat, and enscounts'd himself in a great armchair close beside us. He assured her that she had chosen the good part which could not be taken away from her, that she was now one of the elect, chosen from amongst the wickedness and dangers of the world, picked out like a plum from a pie. He mentioned with pity and contempt those who were yet struggling in the great Babylon, and compared their miserable fate with hers, the bride of Christ who, after suffering a few privations here during a short term of years, should be received at once into a kingdom of glory. The whole discourse was well calculated to rally her fainting spirits, a fainting they were, and to inspire us with a great disgust for ourselves. When the sermon was concluded the music again struck up, the heroine of the day came forward and stood before the grading to take her last look of this wicked world. Down fell the black curtain, up rose the relations, and I accompanied them into the sacristy. Here they coolly lighted their cigars and very philosophically discourse'd upon the exceeding good fortune of the new made none, and on her evident delight and satisfaction with her own situation. As we did not follow her behind the scenes I could not give my opinion on this point. Shortly after one of the gentlemen civilly led me to my carriage, and so it was. As we were returning home some soldiers rode up and stopped the carriage, desiring the coachman to take to the other side of the aqueduct, to avoid the body of a man who had just been murdered within a few doors of our house. In the convent of the Incarnation I saw another girl sacrificed in a similar manner. She was received there without a dowry on account of the exceeding fineness of her voice. She little thought what a fatal gift it would prove to her. The most cruel part of all was that wishing to display her fine voice to the public, they made her sing a hymn alone, on her knees, her arms extended in the form of a cross before all the immense crowd, Ansela Christisum, the bird of Christ I am. She was a good-looking girl, fat and calmly, who would probably have led a comfortable life in the world, for which she seemed well fitted, most likely without one touch of romance or enthusiasm in her composition. But having the unfortunate honor of being knees to two canyones she was thus honorably provided for without expense in her nineteenth year. As might be expected, her voice faltered, and instead of singing she seemed inclined to cry out. Each note came slowly, heavily, tremblingly, and at last she nearly fell forward exhausted when two of the sisters caught and supported her. I had almost made up my mind to see no more such scenes, which, unlike bulky and bullfights, I dislike more and more upon trial, when we received an invitation, which it was not easy to refuse, but was the more painful to accept being acquainted though slightly with the victim. I send you the printed note of invitation. On Wednesday, the blank of this month at six o'clock in the evening, my daughter, Donia Maria de la Concepcion, P.E., will assume the habit of a nun of the choir and the black veil in the convent of Our Lady of the Incarnacion. I have the honor to inform you of this in treating you to co-operate with your presence in the solemnity of this act, a favor which will be highly esteemed by your affectionate servant who kisses your hand. Maria José de Blanque, Mexico June Blanque, 1840. Having gone out in the carriage to pay some visits, I suddenly recollected that it was the very morning of the day in which this young girl was to take the veil, and also that it was necessary to inquire where I was to be placed, for as to entering the church with a crowd on one of these occasions, it is out of the question, particularly when the girl, being as in the present case of distinguished family, the ceremony is expected to be peculiarly magnificent. I accordingly, called at the house, was shown upstairs, and to my horror, found myself in the midst of a goodly company in Richeray consisting of the relations of the family to the number of about a hundred persons, the bishop himself in his purple robes and amethysts, a number of priests, the father of the young lady in his general's uniform, she herself in purple velvet with diamonds and pearls, and a crown of flowers. The corsage of her gown entirely covered with little bows of ribbon of diverse colors, which her friends had given her, each adding one, like stones thrown on a cairn in memory of the departed. She had also short sleeves and white satin shoes. Being very handsome with fine black eyes, good teeth, and fresh color, and above all with the beauty of youth, for she is but 18, she was not disfigured even by this overloaded dress. Her mother, on the contrary, who was to act the part of Madrina, who wore a dress facsimile and who was pale and sad, her eyes almost extinguished with weeping, looked like a picture of misery in a bald dress. In the adjoining room long tables were laid out, on which servants were placing refreshments for the fit about to be given on this joyous occasion. I felt somewhat shocked, and inclined to say with Paul Pry, hope I don't intrude, but my apologies were instantly cut short, and I was welcomed with true Mexican hospitality, repeatedly thanked for my kindness in coming to see the nun, and hospitably pressed to join the family feast. I only got off upon a promise of returning at half-past five to accompany them to the ceremony, which, in fact, I greatly preferred to going there alone. I arrived at the hour pointed and being led upstairs by the Señor Don Blanc, found the morning party with many additions lingering over the dessert. There was some gaiety but evidently forced. It reminded me of a marriage feast previous to the departure of the bride, who is about to be separated from her family for the first time. Yet how different, in fact, is this banquet where the mother and daughter met together for the last time on earth? At stated periods indeed the mother may hear her daughter's voice speaking to her as from the depths of the tomb, but she may never more fold her in her arms, never more share in her joys or in her sorrows or nurse her in sickness, and when her own last hour arrives though but a few streets divide them, she may not give her dying blessing to the child who had been for so many years, the pride of her eyes and heart. I have seen no country where families are so knit together as in Mexico, where the affections are so concentrated or where such devoted respect and obedience are shown by the married sons and daughters to their parents. In that respect they always remain as little children. I know many families of which the married branches continued to live in their father's house, forming a sort of small colony and living in the most perfect harmony. They cannot bear the idea of being separated and nothing but dire necessity ever forces them to leave their fatherland. To all the accounts which travelers give them of the pleasures to be met with in the European capitals they turn a deaf ear. Their families are in Mexico, their parents and sisters and relatives, and there is no happiness for them elsewhere. The greater their force to sacrifice which those parents make, who from religious motives, devote their daughters to a conventional life. Blank, however, was furious at the whole affair, which he said was entirely against the mother's consent, though that of the father had been obtained, and pointed out to me the confessor whose influence had brought it about. The girl herself was now very pale, but evidently resolved to conceal her agitation, and the mother seemed as if she could shed no more tears, quite exhausted with weeping. As the hour for the ceremony drew near, the whole party became more grave and sad, all but the priests, who were smiling and talking together in groups. The girl was not still a moment. She kept walking hastily through the house, taking leave of the servants and naming probably her last wishes about everything. She was followed by her younger sisters, all in tears. But it struck six, and the priests intimated that it was time to move. She and her mother went downstairs alone and entered the carriage, which was to drive them through all the principal streets, to show the nuns to the public, according to custom, and to let them take their last look. They of her and she of them. As they got in, we all crowded to the balconies to see her take leave of her house, her aunt saying, yes, child, dispedete de tu casa, take leave of your house, for you will never see it again. Then came sobs from the sisters, and many of the gentlemen, ashamed of their emotion, hastily quitted the room. I hope, for the sake of humanity, I did not rightly interpret the look of constrained anguish, which the poor girl threw from the wind of the carriage, at the home of her childhood. They drove off, and the relations prepared to walk in procession to the church. I walked with a count S.O. the others followed in pairs. The church was very brilliantly illuminated, and as we entered the band was playing one of Strauss's waltzes. The crowd was so tremendous that we were nearly squeezed to a jelly in getting to our places. I was carried off my feet between two fat senoras in mantillas and shaking diamond pendants, exactly as if I had been packed between two movable feather beds. They gave me, however, an excellent place, quite close to the grating beside the countess, to S.O., that is to say, a place to kneel on. A great bustle and much preparation seemed to be going on within the convent, and veiled figures were flitting about, whispering, arranging, etc. Sometimes a skinny old dame would come close to the grating, and lifting up her veil, bestow upon the pensive public a generous view of a very haughty and very wrinkled visage of some seventy-year standing, and beckon into the church for the Mahordomo of the convent. An excellent and profitable situation, by the way, or for Padre this or that. Some of the holy ladies recognized and spoke to me through the grating. But at the discharge of fireworks outside the church the curtain was dropped, for this was a signal that the nun and her mother had arrived. An opening was made in the crowd as they passed into the church, and the girl kneeling down was questioned by the bishop, but I could not make out the dialogue which was carried on in a low voice. She then passed into the convent by a side door, and her mother, quite exhausted and nearly in hysterics, was supported through the crowd to a place beside us in front of the grating. The music struck up, the curtain was again drawn aside, the scene was as striking here as in the convent of the Santa Teresa, but not so lugubrious. The nuns, all ranged around and carrying lighted tapers in their hands, were dressed in mantles of bright blue with a gold plate on the left shoulder. Their faces, however, were covered with deep black veils. The girl kneeling in front and also bearing a heavy lighted taper looked beautiful, with her dark hair and rich dress and the long black lashes resting on her glowing face. The church men near the illuminated and magnificently decked altar formed, as usual, a brilliant background to the picture. The ceremony was the same as on the former occasion, but there was no sermon. The most terrible thing to witness was the last straining anxious look which the mother gave her daughter through the grating. She had seen her child pressed to the arms of strangers and welcomed to her new home. She was no longer hers. All the sweet ties of nature had been rudely severed, and she had been forced to consign her, in the very bloom of youth and beauty, at the very age in which she most required in mother's care, and when she had but just fulfilled the promise of her childhood to a living tomb. Still, as long as the curtain had not fallen, she could gaze upon her as upon one on whom, though dead, the coffin lid is not yet closed. But while the new maid nun was in a blaze of light and distinct on the foreground, so that we could mark each varying expression on her face, the crowd in the church and the comparative faintness of the light probably made it difficult for her to distinguish her mother for knowing that the end was at hand, she looked anxiously and hurriedly into the church without seeming able to fix her eyes on any particular object, while her mother seemed as if her eyes were glazed, so intently were they fixed upon her daughter. Suddenly and without any preparation, down fell the black curtain like a pall, and the sobs and tears of the family broke forth. One beautiful little child was carried out almost in fits. Water was brought to the poor mother, and at last, making our way with difficulty through the dense crowd we got into the sacristy. I declare, so the countess blanked to me, wiping her eyes, it is worse than a marriage. I expressed my horror at the sacrifice of a girl so young that she could not possibly have known her own mind. Almost all the ladies agreed with me, especially all who had daughters, but many of the old gentlemen were of a different opinion. The young men were decidedly of my way of thinking, but many young girls who were conversing together seemed rather to envy their friend, who had looked so pretty and graceful and so happy and whose dress suited her so well and to have no objection to go and do likewise. I had the honour of a presentation to the bishop, a fat and portly prelate with good manners and well-besuiting his priestly garments. I amused myself while we waited for the carriages by looking over a pamphlet which lay on the table containing the ceremonial of the veil taking. When we rose to go all the ladies of the highest rank devoutly kissed the bishop's hand, and I went home thinking by what law of God a child can thus be dragged from the mother who bore and bred her, and immured in a cloister for life amongst the strangers, to whom she has no tie, and towards whom she owes no duty. That a convent may be a blessed shelter, from the calamities of life, a haven for the unprotected, a resting place for the weary, a safe and holy asylum where a new family and kind friends await those whose natural ties are broken and whose early friends are gone I am willing to admit. But it is not in the flower of youth that the warm heart should be consigned to the cold cloister. Let the young take their chance of sunshine or of storm, the calm and shady retreat is for helpless and unprotected old age. Blank, to whom I described one of these ceremonies wrote some verses suggested by my account of them which I send you. In tropic gorgeousness the lord of day, to the bright chambers of the west retired, and with the glory of his parting ray, the hundred domes of Mexico he fired, when I with vagance solemn awe inspired, entered the incarnation's sacred vein, the vaulted roof, the dim aisle far retired, echoed the deep-toned organ's holy strain, which through the incensed air did mournfully complain. The veiling curtain suddenly withdrew, opening a glorious altar to the sight, where crimson intermixed its wriggle hue with golden jewels that outblazed the light of the huge tapers near them flaming bright, from golden stands, the bishop, Mitre ground, stood stately near in order to round, the sisterhood knelt down their brows upon the ground. The novice entered, to her doom she went, gems on her robes and flowers upon her brow, virgin of tender years, poor innocent, pause ere thou speakest the irrevocable vow, what if thy heart should change, thy spirit fail? She kneels, the black-robed sister sees to bow, they raise a hymn which seems a funeral wail, while all the pageant fault the dark legubrious veil. Again the veil is up, on earth she lies, with a dear mantle of the palls spread o'er, the new maid none, the living sacrifice, dead to this world of ours forevermore. The sun his parting rays has seized to pour, as loth to lend his light to such a scene, the sisters raise her from the sacred floor, supporting her their holy arms between, the mirrored priest stands up with patriarchal mean, and speaks of the benediction, all is done, a life in death must her long years consume. She clasped, her new maid sisters one by one, as the black shadows their embraces gave, they seemed like specters from their place of doom, stealing from out-eternal night's blind cave, to meet their comrade new and hail her to the grave. The curtain fell again, the scene was o'er, the pageant gone its glitter and its pride, and it would be a pageant and no more, but for the maid miscalled the heavenly bride. If I, an utter stranger, unallied to her by slightest ties, some grief sustained what feels the yearning mother from whose side is torn the child whom she hath reared in vain, to share her joys no more, no more, to soothe her pain. The beauties of the village, the road from Mexico, entry to San Agostin, the gambling houses, San Antonio, the Pedregal, last day of the vet, the cockpit, the boxes, the cock fight, decorum, comparisons, dinner, ball at Calvario, house of General Moran, view of the gambling tables, the advocate, ball at the Plaza de Gallos, return to Mexico, reflections, conversation between two ministers. Since my last letter we have been at San Agostin de las Cuevas, which, when I last saw it, was a deserted village, but which, during three days in the year, presents the appearance of a vast beehive or anthill. San Agostin, at the name how many hearts throb with emotion, how many hands are mechanically thrust into empty pockets, how many visions of long vanished golden ounces flit before aching eyes, what faint crowing of wounded cocks, what tinkling of guitars and blowing of horns come upon the ear, some indeed there be who can look around upon their well-stored hacienda and easy rolling carriages, and remember the day when, with threadbare coat and steak of three modest ounces, they first courted fortune's favors, and who, being then indigent, and enjoying an indifferent reputation, found themselves at the conclusion of a few successive San Agostins, the fortunate proprietors of gold and land and houses, and, moreover, with an unimpeachable fame, for he who can fling gold dust in his neighbor's eyes prevents him from seeing too clearly. But these favorites of the blind goddess are few and far between, and they have, for the most part, with a view to greater security, become holders or sharers of banks at San Agostin, thus investing their fortune in a secure fund, more so decidedly, if we may believe the newspaper reports than in the bank of the United States at this present writing. Time in its revolutions whirling all things out of their places has made no change in the annual fete of San Agostin. Fashions alter. The graceful Montia gradually gives place to the ungraceful Bonnet. The old painted coach, moving slowly like a caravan with guides aurora painted on its gaudy panels, is dismissed for the London-built carriage. Old customs have passed away. The ladies no longer sit on the door-seals eating roast duck with their fingers or with the aid of tortillas. Even the Chinampas have become stationary and have occasionally joined the continent. But the annual fete of San Agostin is built on a more solid foundation than taste or custom, or floating soil. It is founded upon that love of gambling, which is said to be a passion inherent in our nature, and which is certainly impregnated with a Meheken constitution in men, women, and child. The beggars gamble at the corners of the streets or under the arches, the little boys gamble in groups in the villages, the coachmen and footmen gamble at the doors of the theatre while waiting for their masters. But while their hand is thus kept in all the year round, there are three days sacredly set apart annually in which every accommodation is given to those who are bent upon ruining themselves or their neighbours, whilst every zest that society can afford is held out to render the temptation more alluring. As religion is called in to sanctify everything right or wrong, as the robber will plant a cross at the mouth of his cave, and the pulque shops do occasional call themselves pulqueras of the most holy virgin, so the season of gambling is fixed for the fete of Pasqua, Whitsunday, and the churches in the gambling houses are thrown open simultaneously. The village is in itself pretty and picturesque, and as a stone at its entry informs us, was built by the active visoroi Revilagiguedo with the product as blank assured us of two lotteries. It is charmingly situated in the midst of handsome villas and orchards, whose high walls overtopped by fruit trees border the narrow lanes. At this season the trees are loaded with the yellow Chabacano and the purple plum, already ripe, while the pear trees are bending under the weight of their fruit. The gardens are full of flowers, the roses in their last bloom covering the ground with their pink leaves, and jasmine and sweet peas in profusion making the air fragrant. The rainy season has scarce set in, though frequent showers have laid the dust and refreshed the air. The country vias are filled with all that is gayest and most distinguished in Mexico, and every house and every room in the village has been hired for months in advance. The ladies are in their most elegant toilettes, and looking forward to a delightful world of dancing, cock fighting, gambling, dining, dressing, and driving about. The high road, leading from Mexico to San Agostín, is covered with vehicles of every description, carriages, diligence, hackney coaches, carts, and caratelas, those who are not fortunate enough to possess any wheeled conveyance come out on horse, ass, or mule, single, double, or treble, if necessary, and many hundreds with visions of silver before their eyes, and a few clacos, pence, hid under their rags, trojado on foot. The president himself, in carriage and six, and attended by his aides to camp, sanctions by his presence the amusements of the fet. The Mexican generals and other officers follow in his wake, and a gratifying spectacle may not unfrequently be seen of the president leaning from his box in the Plaza de Gallos and betting upon a cock, with a codeless, bootless, headless, and probably worthless ragamuffin in the pit. Everyone, therefore, however humble his degree has the pleasure, while following his speculative inclinations of reflecting that he treads in the steps of the magnets of the land, and, as Sam Weller would say, fought a consolation that must be to his feelings. At all events, nothing can be gayer than the appearance of the village, as your carriage makes its way through the narrow lanes into the principal Plaza, amidst the assembled crowd of coaches and foot passengers, though the faces of the people bear evidence that pleasure alone has not brought them to San Augustine. All round the square are their gambling houses, where for three nights and three days every table is occupied. At the principal Montes, nothing is played but gold, but as there is accommodation for all classes, so there are silver tables in the inferior houses, while outside are rows of tables on which are heaps of copper, covered with a rugged awning, and surrounded by leperos and blanketed indians, playing monta in imitation of their bedders, though on a scale more suited to their finances. Having left Mexico early in the morning, we stopped at breakfast at San Antonio, a noble hacienda about four leagues from Mexico, belonging to the dowager Marquesa de Vivanco, where we breakfasted with a large party. It is a fine solid mass of building, and as you enter the courtyard, through a deep archway the great outhouses, stables, and especially the granary, look like remains of feudalism, they are on so large and magnificent a scale. It is an immense and valuable property, producing both maize and magway, and the hospitality of the family, who are amongst our earliest friends here, is upon as large a scale as everything that belongs to them. We had a splendid breakfast in a fine old hall and state but a short time to visit the gardens and the chapel, as we were anxious to arrive at San Augustine in time for the cock fight. It is singular that while San Augustine is situated in the midst of the most fertile and productive country, there should lie opposite to it and bounded as it were by the graceful Peruvian trees, and silver poplars, which surround a small church on the other side of the high road, a great tract of black lava, sterile, bleak, and entirely destitute of vegetation, called the Pedregal. This covers the country all along to San Augustine and to the base of the mountain of Ahusko, which lies behind it, contrasting strangely with the beautiful groves and gardens in its neighborhood, and looking as if it had been cursed for some crime committed there. The high road, which runs nearly in a direct line from the Hacienda to San Augustine, is broad and intolerable repair, but before arriving there it is so little attended to, that during the rainy season it might be passed in canoes, yet this immense formation of phyronginus larvae and porphyritic rock lies conveniently in its vicinity. A large sum supposed to be employed in mending the road is collected annually at the toll close to San Antonio. For each carriage two dollars are asked, and for carts and animals in proportion. The proprietor of this toll, or pastasho, is also the owner of the Plaza de Gallos, where a dollar is paid for entry, the sums produced by which go exclusively to enrich the same individual. The government has no advantage from it. The last day of the FET is considered the best, and it is most crowded on that day, both by families from Mexico and by foreigners who go solely for pleasure, though not unfrequently tempted to a little business on their own account. In fact the temptations are great, and it must be difficult for a young man to withstand them. We went to the Gallos about three o'clock. The Plaza was crowded, and the ladies in their boxes looked like a parterre of different colored flowers. But whilst the senoras in their boxes did honor to the FET by their brilliant toilette, the gentlemen promenaded round the circle in jackets high and low being on the same curtailed footing, and certainly in a style of dress more befitting the exhibition. The president and his suite were already there, also several of the foreign ministers. Meanwhile the cocks crowed valiantly, bets were adjusted, and even the women entered into the spirit of the scene, taking bets with the gentlemen, Sotovoz, in their boxes, upon such and such favorite animal. As a small knife is fastened to the leg of each cock, the battle seldom lasts long, one or other falling every few minutes in a pool of blood. Then there was a clapping of hands mingled with a loud crowing of some unfortunate cock, who was giving himself air as previous to a combat where he was probably destined to crow his last. It has a curious effect to European eyes, to see young ladies of good family looking peculiarly feminine and genteel, sanctioning by their presence this savage diversion. It is no doubt the effect of early habit, and you will say that at least, it is no worse than a bullfight which is certain, yet cruel as the latter is. I find something more engrond, more noble in the ungentle sport that often invites a Spanish maid and cheers a Spanish swain. In the roaring of the lord of lowing herds, the galloping of the fine horses, the skill of the riders, the gay dresses, the music and the agile matador, in short in the whole pomp and circumstances of the combat, then when one looks quietly on to see two birds pack each other's eyes out and cut each other to pieces. Unlike cockpits in other countries attended by black legs and pig pockets and gentlemanly ruse, by far the largest portion of the assembly in the pit was composed of the first young men in Mexico and for that matter of the first old ones also. There was neither confusion nor noise nor even loud talking, far less swearing amongst the lowest of those assembled in the ring, and it is this quiet and orderly behaviour which throws over all these incongruities a cloak of decency and decorum that hides their impropriety so completely that even foreigners who have lived here a few years and who were at first struck with astonishment by these things are now quite reconciled to them. As far as the company went it might have been the House of Representatives in Washington, the ladies in the gallery listening to the debates and the members in the body of the House surrounding Monsieur's blank and blank or any other two vehement orators applauding their biting remarks and cutting sarcasms and encouraging them to crow over each other. The President might have been the speaker and the core diplomatic represented itself. We had an agreeable dinner at the E.S. and afterwards accompanied them to the Calvario, a hill where there was a ball, al fresco which was rather amusing, and then paid a visit to the family of General Moran who has a beautiful house and gardens in the neighborhood. We found a large party assembled and amongst them the President. Afterwards accompanied by the blank minister and the ladies of our party we went to take a view of the gambling tables and opened our eyes at the heaps of gold which changed owners every minute. I saw C.A. a millionaire win and lose a thousand ounces apparently with equal indifference. A little advocate having won two thousand five hundred ounces wisely ordered his carriage and set off for Mexico with the best fee he had ever received in his life. Ladies do not generally look on at the tables but may if they please and especially if they be strangers. Each gambling room was well fitted up and looked like a private apartment. We then returned home and dressed for the ball which was given in the evening in the Plaza de Gallos. We first went upstairs to a box but I afterwards took the advice of M. de Blanc and came down to see the dancers. There were ladies in full dress and gentlemen in white jackets, rather inconsistent. The company though perfectly quiet and well behaved were not very select and were on that account particularly amusing. M. de Blanc and I walked about and certainly laughed much more than we should have done in a more distinguished society. About two in the morning we returned to Mexico and as I this moment receive a note from the American minister informing me that the packet from Vera Cruz is about to sail, I shall send off my letters now and should we still be here next year, I shall then give you a more detailed description of the fit, of the ball both at Calvario and in the cockpit and also of the high life below stairs, gambling at which the scenes are impayable. In one respect the fashions of San Augustine are altered from what they were a few years ago when the senoras used to perform five elaborate and distinct toilets daily, the first in the morning the second for the cockpit, the third for the dinner, the fourth for the ball on the hill of Calvary and the fifth for the ball in the evening. I am told that as they danced in the open air on the hill with all their diamonds and pearls on in the midst of an immense concourse of people a great many jewels were constantly lost which the leperos used afterwards to search for and pick up from the grass a rich harvest. Though they still dress a great deal they are contented with changing their toilet twice or at the most three times in the course of the day. Upon the whole these three days are excessively amusing and as all ranks and conditions are mingled one sees much more variety than at a ball in the city. On their way home C. N. and Senor Blanc discussed the effects likely to be produced on the morals of the people by this fit. Senor Blanc like nearly all the wisest men here persists in considering gambling and innocent amusement and declares that at all events these fit ought never to be done away with. In his opinion it conduces to the happiness of the people, gives them an annual pleasure to look forward to and by the mingling of all ranks which then takes place keeps up a good feeling between the higher and lower orders. C. N. asked him why if such was the case the government did not at least endeavor to draw some advantage from it after the manner of the county Reviagi Hedo why as the bank by the nature of the game has besides a great capital which swallows up all the smaller ones an immense profit amounting to 25 percent they do not make the bankers pay four or five percent and charge half a dollar or mortgage individual who enters to gamble with which money they might beautify the village make a public pass away a good road a canal to Mexico etc. I thought that whatever the government might feel on this subject neither the bankers nor the gamblers would relish the insinuation I shall write in a few days by the Baron de Blanc minister from Blanc who leaves Mexico in a fortnight end of letter the 21st