Aztec Land by Maturin Murray Ballou (i have read the book TXT) 📖

best, while the coffee, sugar, and tobacco plantations rival those of Cuba, both in extent and in the character of their products. While Spanish rulers were still masters here, and when all manner of arbitrary restrictions were put upon trade, the cultivation of tobacco was confined by law to the districts about Cordova and Orizaba. There is no such handicapping of rural industry now enforced, and sugar and tobacco, which are always sure of a ready market where transportation is to be had, are engaging more and more of the attention of planters. It was found that the best of sugar-cane land, that is, best suited for a sugar plantation, could be had here for from thirty to forty dollars per acre; superior for the purpose to that which is held at one thousand dollars per acre in Louisiana. Though cotton is grown in about half the states of Mexico, the states of Vera Cruz and Durango are the most prolific in this crop. The plant thrives on the table-land up to an elevation of about five thousand feet above the level of the Gulf, and according to Mexican statistics the average product is about two thousand pounds to the acre, which is double the average quantity produced in the cotton-growing States of this Union. The modes of cultivation are very crude and imperfect, especially at any distance from the large and populous centres, but the amazing fertility of the soil insures good and remunerative returns to the farmer or planter even under these unfavorable circumstances. Water is the great, we may say the only, fertilizer--none other is ever used, and irrigating facilities are excellent. The city is elevated more than four thousand feet above Vera Cruz, but is also as much below the altitude of the national capital. As to the climate, one is prepared to agree with its inhabitants, who declare it to be "perfection." The city is overshadowed, as it were, by the crystal peak of Orizaba, though it is some miles away, rising to nearly eighteen thousand feet above the sea. It is probably the second loftiest mountain in North America south of the Territory of Alaska, and exceeds the highest point in Europe. Violent eruptions took place from its crater in 1545 and 1546.

About two miles east of Orizaba, near the hamlet of Jalapilla, is a fine waterfall, known as the Cascade Rincon Grande; this body of water makes a daring plunge of fifty feet over precipitous rocks, amid a glorious growth of tropical vegetation. From here parties are made up to ascend Orizaba (Mountain of the Star). It has stopped business as a volcano since the last date named, and is the highest mountain in Mexico with the exception of Popocatepetl. Until about forty years ago, the summit was considered to be inaccessible to human feet, but a party of energetic Americans planted our national flag on the summit at that time, the tattered remains of which were found to be still there in 1851, by Alexander Doignon, an adventurous Frenchman. We were told by a resident of the city of the experience of an English party, who came up from Vera Cruz not long since on their way to the city of Mexico, and who made a stop at Orizaba, intending to ascend the famous mountain. There is said to be no very great difficulty to overcome in climbing to the top if one has experience in such work and is at the same time strong and well, but the party referred to had just arrived from the level of the sea. The summit of Orizaba is, as we have stated, considerably over seventeen thousand feet above the port of Vera Cruz. This party of confident climbers had to give it up after reaching what is known as the timber line, simply for want of the necessary breathing power. One's lungs must become in a degree accustomed to the rarefied atmosphere of the table-land before attempting to ascend to such a height. Guides, blankets, and two days' provisions should be taken by any party designing to climb Orizaba. One must seek a favorable point in the limits of the town to see this elevation to advantage, because of the close intervening hills. On the west side of the town is an elevation known as El Borrego, where five thousand Mexicans were completely routed by a single company of Zouaves during the ill-conceived French invasion. To be sure, this was a night surprise, wherein the French appeared among the sleeping Mexicans and cut them down as fast as they opened their eyes, until the whole camp took to flight. The importance of military discipline was never more clearly demonstrated. Probably the average of the Mexican soldiers were of nearly as good material as the French, but the former were little better than a mob, each man for himself. Even to-day, it is observed, in the few military exhibitions given in public, that the rank and file are lackadaisical, indifferent, undrilled, evincing a want of nearly every element of discipline, while their officers lounge along the avenues,--they do not _march_,--presenting an appearance as far from true military bearing as the greatest clown in the ranks.

It will be remembered that Orizaba was for a considerable time the headquarters of General Bazaine's army, and it was here that the French general finally, in 1866, bade good-by to the ill-fated Maximilian, whose cause he deserted by order of his royal master, Napoleon the Little. Stories are told by the residents of the outrages committed by the French soldiers, who were permitted unlimited license by their commander. "The whole army," said an aged citizen to us, "was a body of cutthroats. They stole everything they could carry away, besides which, cruel and aimless murder was their daily diversion."

The small plaza is a delightful resort, a wilderness of green with an ornamental fountain in the middle, about which are stone seats among flowering shrubs, orange and other fruit trees. Indeed, the entire surroundings of Orizaba are gardenlike in fertility and bloom. The vegetation, owing to the humidity of the atmosphere rising from the Gulf, is always intensely green. Huge butterflies flitted in clouds about the plaza, many-colored, sunshine-loving creatures, with widespread, yellow wings shot with purple bars, and bearing strongly contrasting dots of inky-black and lily-white. A tall cluster of the glorious tulipan, quite by itself, looked like a tree on fire, so glowing was its scarlet bloom.

The streets of the town are in tolerably good condition, paved with lava once vomited from the neighboring mountain, now so quiet. The gutters are in the middle of the thoroughfares, and the sidewalks are only a few inches in width. Carts or wheeled vehicles of any sort are very little used, freight being carried almost wholly on the backs of burros and Indians. All vegetables, charcoal, wood, and country produce come into town on the backs of sturdy, copper-colored natives, men and women, and it is really astonishing to see what loads they will carry for long distances over the mountain roads at the rate of five or six miles an hour. Humboldt, in his description of these Indians, tells us that they enjoy one great physical advantage which is undoubtedly owing to the simplicity in which their ancestors lived for thousands of years. He referred to the fact that they are subject to hardly any deformity. A hunchbacked Indian is not to be seen, and it is very rare to meet a maimed or a lame one. Their hair does not grow gray like that of white men, nor do their faces grow wrinkled as they become old. The absence of deformity is also supposed to be owing to their general mode of life, simple food, living in the open air, and temperate habits. Their ivory-white teeth contrast strongly with their black hair and bronzed features. The country people rarely indulge in pulque, never unless when they come to town, and they have too little money to throw it away in the purchase of much of even that cheap liquor. It is said that its injurious effects upon the system are very trifling compared to those of American whiskey. It seems to be little more than a powerful narcotic to those who drink of it freely. The strong distilled liquor made from the roots of the maguey plant is quite another article, and is more like Scotch whiskey in effect.

If you rise from your couch early enough in the morning, you will see many Indian men and women coming in to market from the country, all bending under the weight of provisions, pottery, or some other home product. You will see the women (industrious creatures) knitting or netting as they jog along. And near them long trains of burros laden with grain, alfalfa, straw, or wood. You will see some dark-eyed, coquettish girls with inviting bouquets for sale; also here and there a pretty senora or senorita, with a dark lace veil thrown over her jet black hair, hastening to early mass; but, above all, behold the glorious sun encircling the frosty brow of Orizaba with a halo of gold and silver which sparkles like diamonds in the clear, crisp morning atmosphere. How full of vivid pictures is the memory of these early morning hours in Mexico!

In a small village known as Jalapilla, situated about a couple of miles south of the city, is the spot where Maximilian resided for a brief period after the French army had deserted him. Here he held the famous council as to whether he should abdicate the Mexican throne or not. He was more than half inclined to do it. It was really the only common-sense course which was left open to him. Had he done so, he might have been living to-day. Vera Cruz was close at hand and easily reached, a French steamship lay off San Juan d'Ulloa ready to take him across the sea, but there were three causes working against his abdication. First, his own pride; second, the pressure of the church party; and, last but not least, the confident counsels of Carlotta. These influences prevailed, and decided him to remain. He thus challenged the inevitable fate which ended his career at Queretaro. That two generals who were on his personal staff believed in his star and were wedded to his service under all circumstances, was fully proven in the fact that they made no attempt to escape, but calmly and devotedly died by his side when the crisis finally came.

The railroad station at Orizaba adjoined a neat inclosure, which is a small floral paradise, exhibiting very clearly a woman's taste in the arrangement and cultivation. Roses white and red, lilies tall and pearl-colored, the scarlet hibiscus, tube-roses, orange-trees, coffee-trees full of berries, all are to be seen here, with a few bananas waving their long, broad green leaves, like pennons, over the undergrowth, and showing their one pendulous blossom as large as a pineapple.

The descent from the high elevation of Orizaba is continued, the route leading through groves of bananas, maize and sugar plantations, and creeping down the steep sides of a terrific gorge over a thousand feet deep, where the purple shadows look like shrouded phantoms hastening out of sight. This abyss is crossed by means of extraordinary engineering skill, much of the roadway along the nearly perpendicular side of the ravine having been hewn out of the solid rock. To accomplish this it was necessary at first to suspend workmen by ropes over the brow of the cliffs, lowering them down until they were opposite the point to be operated upon, and, after making fast the ropes which held them, leave them there to work for hours with hammer and chisel. There was one piece of roadbed, not more than ten rods in length, where the track seemed to run on a