In Indian Mexico — Chapter XI - In the Mixteca Alta, part 2

[Illustration: THE PEOPLE RECEIVING THEIR PADRE; TILANTONGO] The houses were in yards completely filled with fruit trees--_chirimoyas, limas, granadas de China, ahuacates_ and oranges.

Garden-beds of spinach, lettuce, and onions were frequent.

The houses were of poles set upright, with thick thatchings of palms.

Bee-hives in quantity were seen at almost every house.

At Tilantongo we had seen but few women in native dress.

Here almost every woman was clad in native garments, many of which were beautifully decorated.

The men wore brilliant sashes, woven in the town.

When we reached the town-house we found the doorway decorated with flowers,--stars and rosettes made of palm.

We were well received, and a capital dinner was soon served, after which we were escorted around the town by the authorities, who arranged for photographing everything that seemed to us of interest.

But, at three o'clock, we left this pretty spot.

Again, we climbed much of the way over limestone roads.

Santo Domingo, past which we journeyed, is a mean little town, with houses much like those of Tilantongo, but of a gray color instead of reddish-brown.

From here we plunged downward, and when we ascended again, followed along the side of a rock-walled cañon with pretty cascades and magnificent masses of fallen rock.

The last part of our journey was made by moonlight, along a brook-side over a road which seemed quite endless.

With some trouble, we found the dilapidated old church and the municipal house; we took possession of the school, and after a miserable supper, thoroughly tired, lay down to rest upon the benches.

The town--Magdalena de los Comales--is so named from the _comales_, or earthenware griddles, made there.

Besides this characteristic product, the town makes a good deal of unglazed but polished red pottery.

The forms are chiefly candle-sticks, censers and toys.

Much weaving of palm is here done, and the hats of the place are rather famous.

Famous, too, are the _mantas_, or women's dresses, of black wool, made in long rectangular pieces.

The common grade sells for . 00, and in using it, it is, like indian dresses generally, simply wrapped about the figure and held in place by a sash or belt.

Nowhere in our journey in southern Mexico had we met with the kind of scenery which we encountered between Magdalena and Tlaxiaco; its whole character was like that of New Mexico.

Directly behind the town was a fine cart-road, worn in red sand pumice; before the town rose a magnificent cliff, which had been a landmark in our journey of the day before.

The road running up the mountain, over gray and red pumice strata, was deeply worn, just like the road back of Cochiti, New Mexico.

Here, too, were the same noble pines for forest.

It was a full hour's climb to the summit, where we found a pretty brook tumbling over ledge after ledge into deep round basins of purest water.

A long and rather gentle slope downward led to a valley filled with neat farm-houses and cleared patches.

Our last ascent brought us to a mass of rounded hills, composed of brilliant clays--yellow, brown, pink, red and white.

From among these hillocks Tlaxiaco, a magnificent picture, burst into view.

It is compactly built; the flat-topped houses are white or blue-tinted;

trees are sprinkled through the town; the old convent, with the two towers of its church, dominates the whole place; a pretty stream flows along its border; and a magnificent range of encircling mountains hems it in on all sides.

The descent was rapid, and we reached Tlaxiaco with the morning but half gone.

[Illustration: MIXTEC HOUSES WITH BEEHIVES; SAN BARTOLO] The _jefes_ of the districts of Mexico are frequently men of ability and force.

Rarely, however, have we encountered one so prompt and energetic as Javier Cordova, then _jefe_ of the district of Tlaxiaco.

When he took possession of this district, not long before, deeds of robbery along the high-road were common.

In many portions of the district, acts of violence were quite the rule.

Perhaps the largest agricultural district in the Republic, it possessed few of the conveniences of modern life.

Under Cordova's administration, vast improvements have been made.

The roads are secure, deeds of violence are rare, the advantages of the district are being rapidly developed, telephone and telegraph have been introduced, and a railroad is talked of.

Although we had no letter from the governor addressed to Señor Cordova, when we showed him the communications for other _jefes_, we were received with the greatest courtesy and everything was done to facilitate our work.

We told him that we planned to visit the Triquis at Chicahuastla.

He at once wrote letters to the town authorities and to Don Guillermo Murcio, living at that village.

The plaster for our bust-making had not yet been received, but Señor Cordova promised, in case it came, to forward it after us promptly, and, in case it did not come, to send twenty miles into the mountains for the raw plaster, which he would have prepared and sent on to Chicahuastla.

It was late in the afternoon, before we started for Cuquila, where we planned to pass the night.

It was a mistake to make so late a start.

For a time, the road was fairly level, but at last we went up a brisk ascent, reaching the summit near sunset.

The road down would have been a bad one, even in the daytime.

As it was, if we had not had a good moon, we could hardly have made the descent.

From the depth of the cañon we ascended to Cuquila, thoroughly tired, somewhat before seven.

It was with the greatest difficulty that we could find anyone of whom to ask our way to the town-house.

Our voices were sufficient to plunge any house into instant darkness and silence.

After a long search, we found a man who agreed to seek the _presidente_.

He and the rest of the town officials finally met us on the road, and, after reading our order, took us to the town-house.

It was with difficulty that we got fodder for our horses.

It was only after persistent and dire threats, that we secured food for ourselves, and firewood to make the room, in which we were to sleep, endurable.

It was long past eleven before we were through our troubles and lay down on mats to sleep.

Though we had warned the town officials that we should leave at seven, and must have breakfast before we left, when we arose, we found no steps whatever taken for our accommodation.

Yet the town officials had been up long enough to be thoroughly affected by their early morning drinks.

Feeling that patience had ceased to be a virtue, we summoned the authorities, and told the _presidente_ that he had paid no attention whatever to his _jefe's_ order; that we had had far too much difficulty in securing the bad accommodations we had been furnished; that their promise to prepare a suitable breakfast had been completely disregarded.

We told them that our duty was to send immediate complaint to Tlaxiaco;

that we would, however, give them one more chance.

We should not stop for breakfast, but would proceed upon our journey hungry; if, however, we sent him further orders regarding our return journey, we should expect them obeyed to the very letter.

With this we mounted.

In vain the _presidente_ and officials begged us to wait, promising that everything should be prepared.

Time was too precious, and away we rode.

Soon after leaving Cuquila we struck a fifty-minute mountain, the summit of which we made at nine o'clock exactly.

Here we sat in the shade and lunched on bread and pineapples, bought the day before in Tlaxiaco.

From the summit, there was a slow and gentle descent around that ridge, and then a slow incline along an endless ravine, until at last we came out upon a crest, from which we looked down upon one of the grandest mountain scenes of the world.

A valley of impressive size, surrounded by magnificent mountain masses, lay below us, and just to the right, at our feet, was Chicahuastla.

Few people in Mexico are so little known as the Triquis.

Orozco y Berra, usually a good authority, locates them near Tehuantepec, in the low country.

The towns which he calls Triqui are Chontal; the five true Triqui towns are in the high Mixteca.

The largest is the town which we were now approaching.

The Triquis are people of small stature, dark-brown color, black eyes, aquiline, but low and rather broad nose; they are among the most conservative, suspicious and superstitious of Mexican indians.

Most of them dress in native clothing, and all speak the Triqui and not the Spanish language.

As a people they are sadly degraded, through being exceptionally addicted to drink.

Don Guillermo Murcio is a character.

He and his family are almost the only _mestizos_ in the place.

He is a hale and hearty blacksmith, and has lived for fifteen years in this purely indian town, where he has gained almost unbounded influence among the simple natives.

His word is law, and the town-government trembles before his gaze.

He is impetuous in manner, quick-tempered, and on the slightest suggestion of disregard of his commands, freely threatens jail or other punishment.

He received us cordially, and we lived at his house, where we were treated to the best that was available.

We have already referred to the beautiful location of Chicahuastla.

Its appearance is most picturesque.

Unlike the indian towns in the Mixteca which we had so far visited, it has many houses of circular form with conical roof.

It is possible that this style of construction is the result of African influence.

At Chicahuastla we were on the very summit of the great water-shed, and from it, when the air is clear, one may look down, over a sea of lesser summits and mountain ranges, to the waters of the Pacific.

Along the Pacific coast, in the state of Guerrero, are whole towns of Africans, descendants of slaves, who build their houses after the circular pattern, so common throughout the dark continent.

We did not find in the Triquis any admixture of African blood, but it is possible the mode of house-building may have been influenced by negro example.

Our first glimpse of the town suggested a veritable paradise.

At eleven the sky was clear, the sun almost tropical, the whole country smiled under its warm beams; but at two there came a change.

Fogs, so dense as to shut out the view of what was across the road, drifted down from the summit on which we had seen cloud masses forming.

Deeper and deeper, wetter and wetter, colder and colder grew the mist.

All, wrapped in their thickest blankets, were shivering, crouched upon the ground, trying in vain to keep themselves warm.

At first we thought this might be a rare occasion, but were assured that it is an every-day occurrence, and from our own experience of four or five days, we can easily believe the statement to be true.

How any people can live in such a spot, suffering keenly twenty hours in the day, simply for the four hours of clear sunshine and warmth is inexplicable; and the nights were torments!

Don Guillermo's house is well built of logs and plaster, but no house could keep out that bitter cold night air which chilled us, as we lay in bed, until we could hardly move.

[Illustration: DON GUILLERMO AND HIS FAMILY; CHICAHUASTLA] [Illustration: GROUP OF TRIQUIS; CHICAHUASTLA] We have already stated that the people of Chicahuastla are conservative and superstitious.

Our operations of measuring, photographing and bust-making filled the town with alarm and concern.

It was hard enough to get our male subjects; the women were yet more difficult.

At first we failed to secure any, but after we had several times told the town officials that twenty-five women must be forthcoming for measurement, and Don Guillermo had stormed and threatened, the town-government began to plan a mode of carrying out our wishes.

Close by Don Guillermo's house was the miserable little village _plaza_, where the women of the town assembled with corn-cakes and other articles for trade.

There, they met the travelling peddlers coming from Tlaxiaco, from Cuquila and the coast, and drove their bargains, mostly a matter of trade, not purchase, with them.

Waiting at the place where we were working, until one or two women were to be seen in the _plaza_, the town officials separated, going in two directions.

In a few minutes an anxious watcher, from our point of view, might have seen a gradually contracting circle of men surrounding the _plaza_.

Usually at the same time that this circle was evident to the watcher, it became also evident to the women.

With cries of terror, the poor creatures would start off as fast as their legs would carry them, over the mountain trails, with the whole town government, sixteen strong, in pursuit, with yells and screams.

It was like nothing but the chase of deer by hounds.

Usually, the women, given strength by terror, escaped; but once out of three times, perhaps, the officials returned in triumph with their prisoner in their midst, who was at once measured and then, if need be, photographed.

In course of time these hunts supplied the twenty-five victims desired.

It might not be uninteresting to describe the events of a single afternoon in a Triqui town.

On one occasion, having eaten dinner, we had scarcely begun our work when we heard a great uproar and din upon the road toward Santo Domingo.

Looking in that direction, we saw a crowd of men and boys struggling toward us.

As they came nearer, we saw that six or eight of the party were carrying some awkward and inconvenient burden.

It was a man, sprawling face downward; two or more held his arms, an equal number his legs; about his waist a belt, knotted behind, was tied, and then through the knot was thrust a strong pole, which was being carried by two men, one on either side.

Struggling against those who carried him, raising his face and snarling and gnashing at the crowd, the prisoner presented a fearful spectacle.

It seemed that, being drunk, he had quarreled with his friend, whom he had nearly murdered with his _machete_.

About the middle of the afternoon we heard a loud crying in the other direction, toward the church and jail, and, on looking, saw coming toward us a man, whose head was broken open and from it was streaming blood, his head and face were covered, and his white shirt, to the waist and even below, was soaked with the red fluid.

He was wringing his hands and crying in a piteous manner.

When he came to where we stood, he told his tale of woe.

He was the majordomo in charge of the church property.

He had expected that the priest would make his visit to the pueblo on that day, and had so announced it to the people;

the pious parishioners looked forward, with interest, to the coming of the _padre_.

When the day passed, however, and the priest failed to appear, one of the more religious felt so outraged that he had broken open the head of the majordomo with a club, on account of his disappointment.

We told the poor fellow to go home and let his wife clean him up and change his clothing, promising that, if he died, his assailant should be punished.

That evening there was a little moonlight at Chicuhuastla, the only time during our stay.

As we sat eating supper, we heard an outcry in the direction of the church and jail.

Asking Don Guillermo what might be the cause, he replied that there was probably some trouble at the jail.

We insisted on going to see what might be happening.

Don Guillermo, the plaster-worker, Mariano, Manuel and I, seizing whatever weapons were convenient at hand, started for the jail.

We found an excited crowd gathered around the doorway.

On a log before the door there sat a creature crazy-drunk.

I have never seen a case more horrible.

He screamed, yelled, gnashed his teeth, struck and snapped at everyone around.

The whole village stood in terror.

I addressed the policemen, who seemed quite helpless.

"Why not thrust him into the jail?

Quick!

Seize him!

In with him!"

Encouraged by our words, they seized him, the door was quickly opened, and he was cast into the little room, which already contained more than thirty persons, the harvest of a single afternoon.

When the door was locked, we saw for the first time why the policemen had been so timid.

One of them came limping up to us, crying, and showed his leg.

From its fleshy part a good mouthful of flesh had been cleanly bitten by the madman.

The wound was bleeding profusely, and the poor fellow wrung his hands and cried with pain.

[Illustration: VIEW AT CHICAHUASTLA] We had finished our measurements and photographs, but there had been no sign as yet of the plaster; concluding that Señor Cordova had forgotten his promise, we were prepared to leave town early the next morning.

After dark two men came from Tlaxiaco, one of whom brought sufficient plaster for making two good busts.

This plaster had been brought, in a crude state, twenty miles from the mountains to Tlaxiaco; had been calcined and ground there, by prisoners in the jail, and then sent fifteen miles to us over the mountains.

We were interested in the men who brought it.

One of them was a prisoner from the Tlaxiaco jail.

He had been sentenced to ten days for drinking, and it was he who carried the plaster.

The other proudly informed us that he was a policeman, and had come to make sure that the prisoner returned.

Thoroughly delighted at their coming, we broke our custom and gave the men a trifle.

Alas, the day!

That very night both men, policeman and prisoner, were thrust into the local jail, helplessly drunk.

One evening, during our stay at Chicahuastla, Don Guillermo begged me to go into the kitchen to examine a baby, upon whom he was thinking of performing a surgical operation.

The creature was a boy some three months old, pure indian.

We had heard him crying at night ever since we had come, but had not seen him.

A tumor, or some growth, was on his neck, below the chin.

Don Guillermo handed me the razor, in order that I might remove the swelling, but I refused the task.

The story of the child is sad.

It is the son of a young indian boy and girl, not married.

That would not be a serious matter among the Triquis.

For some reason, however, the mother did not like the child, and scarcely was it born, when she went with it into the forest; there in a lonely place she choked it, as she thought, to death, and buried it in the ground.

The town authorities, suspecting something of her purpose, had followed her and were watching at the moment.

No sooner had she left the spot than they dug up the child, found it still alive, and brought it to Don Guillermo, who had kept it at the town's charge.

The last night of our stay at Chicahuastla, just after supper, a cavalcade came to the door.

It was the _jefe_ of the next district--Juxtlahuaca--with a guard of six mounted men.

Apparently a pleasant fellow, he was at the moment excited over a recent disturbance in his district.

In an attempt which he had made to adjust a certain difficulty, he and his guard had been fired on and stones thrown from the height above them, by the people of the pueblo.

One of his companions died from the effect of the attack.

The officer plainly feared an outbreak or uprising, and was nervous and uneasy, though Don Guillermo assured him that in his house there was absolutely no danger.

Finally, we quieted down and all went to bed, we with the intention of an early start the next morning.

[Illustration: AT WORK; MEASURING] [Illustration: AT WORK; BUST MAKING] After an uneasy night, I awoke about five o'clock.

Just as I was thinking of calling my companions, I felt a faint trembling, which rapidly increased to a heavy shaking, of the house in which we slept.

There was a moment's pause, and then a second shaking, which began stronger than the other, but which lasted about the same time.

It was the most serious earthquake shock we ever experienced in Mexico.

Had the house been made of brick and plaster, considerable damage might have been done.

Everyone was wide awake in an instant.

The whole town was in excitement.

The church-bell was rung and the people flocked out into the street.

The shock passed at exactly 5:20, and, in other towns, notably in Oaxaca, it did considerable damage.

Two days before, we had sent word to the authorities at Cuquila, that we should breakfast with them on our way back to Tlaxiaco, and ordered them to be ready for our coming.

This was the opportunity which had been promised them for redeeming themselves and avoiding complaint to their _jefe_.

Arriving at the town at 9:40, we were met at the roadside by some of the officials, who led us at once to the town-house.

Here the whole town government was gathered to greet us; politely each one, stepping forward, removed his hat and kissed my hand; they then invited us to sit down at the table and breakfast,--whereupon eggs, chicken, _tortillas_ and _frijoles_--the best the town could supply--were set before us.

The whole government sat by, looking on as we ate.

Immediately after breakfast, in accordance with our order previously sent, we were taken to see a potter at work.

Cuquila is famous for two lines of manufacture, pottery and woolen garments.

The pottery here made is skillfully shaped into wonderfully large vessels of different forms.

The product goes throughout this whole district, and even down to the Pacific coast, a hundred miles distant.

Along the roads it is a common thing to meet parties of three or four men carrying great loads of water-jars, large bowls, etc. , for sale or trade.

While we were inspecting the potter's work, a slight shock of earthquake, almost too gentle to be noticed, passed through the place.

At Cuquila, we found that we should not meet Señor Cordova at Tlaxiaco.

He had passed through the town the night before, on his way to Juxtlahuaca, with a band of soldiers to assist his neighboring _jefe_ in maintaining order.

Leaving our Cuquila reprobates in friendly and gentle mood, we started for Tlaxiaco, where we arrived at half-past two.

Something after four o'clock, we heard a violent ringing of the church-bell and saw the people flocking out onto the streets; looking up at the church-tower, although we did not feel the shock, we saw that the whole church was being violently shaken, and that the ringing bells, which we had heard, were not moved by human hands.

This third shock of the day was more strongly felt in other districts, than with us.

In the City of Mexico, three hundred miles away, it was the most severe of the day.

The whole town was in commotion; people threw themselves upon their knees in the streets and prayed to the Virgin for protection.

Later in the day, we saw a priest and a saint's figure passing through the streets, and as they passed the people paid reverence.

Surely the little procession, illegal though it was, must have been successful, for there were no further shocks.

We found here a most interesting superstition, which we had not met before, but which we heard several times later, in other districts.

We were assured that the earthquake was but one of many signs that the world was coming to an end.

We discovered that thousands of the people expected the ending of the world in 1900, and when we asked why, were reminded that this was the last year of the century.

This is certainly a survival of ancient superstition.

The old Mexicans did not count their years by hundreds or centuries, as we do, but by cycles of 52 years each.

It was believed that the world would come to an end at the close of a cycle, and important ceremonies were conducted to avert such a catastrophe.

It is clear that the old idea, of the destruction of the world at the close of a cycle, has been transferred to the new mode of reckoning time.

[Illustration: VIEW AT CHICAHUASTLA] From Tlaxiaco to Teposcolula, there was a cart-road, though it was possible that no _carreta_ ever passed over it.

It presented little good scenery.

We passed the pueblos of San Martin Jilmeca, San Felipe, and San Miguel.

Just before reaching the first of these towns, the road passes over a coarse rock mass, which weathers into spheroidal shells.

At Jilmeca and some other points along the day's route the rock over which we passed was a white tufaceous material loaded with streaks of black flint.

Sometimes this black flint passes into chert and chalcedony of blue and purple tints.

Here and there, along the mountain sides, we caught glimpses of rock exposures, which looked snow-white in the distance.

Between Jilmeca and San Felipe there was a pretty brook, with fine cypresses along the banks, and a suspension bridge of great logs.

Having passed through San Felipe and San Miguel, a pleasant road, through a gorge, brought us to the valley in which Teposcolula lies.

The great convent church, historically interesting, is striking in size and architecture.

The priest, an excellent man, is a pure-blooded Mixtec indian, talking the language as his mother tongue.

With great pride he showed us about the building, which was once a grand Dominican monastery.

The old carved wooden cupboard for gold and silver articles, used in the church service, is fine work.

The gold and silver articles for which it was built have long since disappeared.

In the _patio_ are many old paintings, most of which are badly damaged, and some of which have been repaired with pieces cut from other pictures, not at all like the missing piece.

Among these pictures is a series of scenes from the life of Santo Domingo.

Of the figures in the church, two are fairly good; one, which is famous, represents Our Lady of the Rosary.

In a little chapel are buried the remains of the old friars; here also is a beautiful old carved confessional.

In front of the old church is a great court surrounded by a stone wall, which is surmounted here and there with little, pointed, square pillars.

To the right of the church is a mass of masonry, in reddish-brown freestone, consisting of a series of arches, now more or less in ruins.

When the convent was at the height of its splendor, the crowd of worshippers was too large for the church itself, and these beautiful arches were erected to receive the overflow.

In the church itself, the plaster in the domes of the towers and the coloring on the walls and domes had chipped and fallen, on account of the earthquake, the day before.

In the ruins of the upper rooms of the convent proper, stone and mortar, dislodged from the decaying walls by the same shocks, lay in little heaps on the floor.

The _cura_ had ten churches in his charge.

He says there are 2,000 people in Teposcolula, few of whom are indians.

In his ten churches, he has 12,000 parishioners.

He seemed a devout man, and emphasized the importance of his preaching to his congregation in their native tongue and his.

So convinced is he that the native idiom of the people is the shortest road to their heart and understanding, that he has prepared a catechism and Christian doctrine in the modern Mixtec, which has been printed.

The town itself is desolate; the _plaza_ is much too large, and dwarfs the buildings which surround it, and signs of desolation and decay mark everything.

With the fondness which Mexicans show for high-sounding and pious inscriptions, the municipality has painted, upon the side of the town-house, in full sight for a long distance, the words, "Nations to be great and free must be educated."

From here to Nochixtlan there was nothing of special interest.

For some four leagues the road was through a gorge; from this valley we mounted to the height, just before reaching the town of Tiltepec, from which we caught an extensive view down over the great valley in which Nochixtlan and this town lie.

From Tiltepec we had a rather tiresome, hot, and painful ride, passing San Juan Tillo and Santiago Tillo.

By half past one we were again in the city of Nochixtlan.

[Illustration: TRIQUI CHILDREN; CHICAHUASTLA] [Illustration: MIXTEC POTTER; CUQUILA] CHAPTER XII THE MIXES REVISITED