ROBERT A. WILSON. (continued 8)

"Soon after the battle commenced, the Bechuanas came up, and united in playing on the enemy with poisoned arrows, but they were soon driven back; half a dozen of the fierce Mantatees [the enemy] made the whole body scamper off in wild disorder. After two hours and a half's combat, the Griquas, finding their ammunition fast diminishing, at the almost certain risk of loss of life, began to storm [charge], when the enemy gave way, taking a westerly direction. The horsemen, however, intercepted them, when they immediately descended toward the ravine, as if determined not to return by the way they came, which they crossed, but were again intercepted. On turning round they seemed desperate, but were again soon repulsed. Great confusion now prevailed, the ground being very stony, which rendered it difficult to manage the horses. At this moment an awful scene was presented to the view. The undulating country around was covered with warriors all in motion, so that it was difficult to say who were enemies or who were friends. Clouds of dust were rising from the immense masses, who appeared flying with terror or pursuing with fear. To the alarming confusion was added the bellowing of oxen, the vociferations of the yet unvanquished warriors, mingled with the groans of the dying, and the widows' piercing wail, and the cries from infant voices. The enemy again directed their course toward a town which was in possession of a tribe of the same people still more numerous. Here again another desperate struggle ensued, when they appeared determined to inclose the horsemen within the smoke and flames of the houses, through which they were slowly passing, giving the enemy time to escape. At last, seized with despair, they fled precipitately. It had been observed during the fight that some women went backward and forward to the town, only about half a mile distant, apparently with the most perfect indifference to their fearful situation. While the commando was struggling between hope and despair of being able to rout the enemy, information was brought that the half of the enemy, under Choane, were reposing in the town, within sound of the guns, perfectly regardless of the fate of the other division, under the command of Karagauye. It was supposed they possessed entire confidence in the yet invincible army of the latter, being the more warlike of the two. Humanly speaking, had both parties been together, the day would have been lost, when they would with perfect ease have carried devastation into the centre of the colony [of the Cape]. When both parties were united, they set fire to all parts of the town, and appeared to be taking their departure, proceeding in an immense body toward the north. If their number may be calculated by the space of ground occupied by the entire body, it must have amounted to upward of 40,000. The Griquas pursued them about eight miles; and though they continued desperate, they seemed filled with terror at the enemies by whom they had been overcome.... As fighting was not my province, I avoided discharging a single shot, though, at the request of Mr. Melville and the chiefs, I remained with the commando as the only means of safety. Seeing the savage ferocity of the Bechuanas in killing the inoffensive women and children for the sake of a few paltry rings, or to boast that they had killed some of the Mantatees, I turned my attention to these objects of pity, who were flying in consternation in all directions. By my galloping in among them, many of the Bechuanas were deterred from their barbarous purpose. Shortly after they began to retreat, the women, seeing that mercy was shown them, instead of flying, generally sat down, and, baring their bosoms, exclaimed, 'I am a woman. I am a woman.' It seemed impossible for the men to yield. There were several instances of wounded men being surrounded by fifty Bechuanas, but it was not till life was almost extinct that a single one would allow himself to be conquered. I saw more than one instance of a man fighting boldly with ten or twelve spears or arrows fixed in his body.... The men, struggling with death, would raise themselves from the ground, and discharge their weapons at any one of our number within their reach: their hostile and revengeful spirit only ceased when life was extinct. Contemplating this deadly conflict, we could not but admire the mercy of God that not one of our number was killed, and only one slightly wounded. One Bechuana lost his life while too eagerly seeking for plunder. The slain of the enemy was between four and five hundred.

"The Mantatees are a tall, robust people, in features resembling the Bechuanas; the dress, consisting of prepared ox-hides, hanging doubly over their shoulders. The men, during the engagement, were nearly naked, having on their heads a round cockade of black ostrich feathers. Their ornaments were large copper rings, sometimes eight in number, worn round their necks, with numerous arm, leg, and ear rings of the same material. Their weapons were war-axes of various shapes, and clubs. Into many of their knob-sticks were inserted pieces of iron resembling a sickle, but more curved, sometimes to a circle, and sharp on the outside. They appeared more rude and barbarous than the tribes around us, the natural consequences of the warlike life they had led. They were suffering dreadfully from want; even in the heat of battle, the poorest class seized pieces of meat and devoured them raw."

50 (Return) As it is an unimportant question whether Cortéz first built a chapel for the Franciscans back of the Cathedral, or the one in the yard of the Franciscans, I here repeat the popular tradition.

51 (Return) Humboldt, Essai Politique.

52 (Return) As my readers may be a little curious to know how the city government is sustained, I translate the statement of city revenue of 1851.

There were in that year 379 licensed pulque-shops, yielding a revenue of $65,297

538 retail grocer shops in which liquor is sold by the gill 25,609

8 breweries pay a city tax of 1,697

132 cafés, fondas, and eating-houses pay 4,418

Tax on grain and bread consumed in the city 53,762

Public diversions, $3103; permitted plays (not gambling), $3221 6,324

Tax on canals, $6798; tax on coaches, $20,157; markets, $56,130 83,085

Donation of the proceeds of a bull-fight 830

Gifts, in bread and meat, to the prisons 4,561

A tax of one dollar on the slaughtering of 21,984 beef-cattle 21,984

16,404 calves were slaughtered, paying six shillings tax 12,303

145,040 sheep, at one shilling and sixpence 27,194

9394 pigs paid five shillings tax, or 5,870

42,734 swine, full grown, paid six shillings 32,055

7750 goats and kids, at one shilling and sixpence 1,453

Tax on property entering the city gates 1,878

Licenses to slaughter to individuals 136

The water rents of $20,000 were consumed in repairs.

The tax on fish yielded $390

The balance of the revenue consists of certain city properties.

Expenditures.

The heaviest items are for the public prisons $69,863

For the hospitals of the insane 48,000

Lancasterian schools 3,600

Lights and city patrol 52,422

Exhibition of flowers and fruits in November last 1,831

Salaries of school-teachers, and rent of houses for schools 4,812

Religious worship in Hospital of San Hippolito, and for vaccine matter 2,282

Cleaning the streets by night and by day 21,378

Salaries 31,472

Dinners and festivals 151

The city has a debt of $617,978, and has, as a set-off, a claim against the supreme government for $1,700,000 of its funds seized from time to time, and for keeping prisoners.

53 (Return) The arrests in the year 1851 were 212 men and 182 women for infractions of police regulations; 1256 men and 1944 women for excessive drinking; 384 men and 120 women for robbery; 180 men and 84 women on suspicion of robbery; 120 men and 25 women for picking pockets; 15 men and 3 women for murder; 728 men and 246 women for affrays and wounds; 209 men and 85 women for carrying forbidden weapons; 36 men who had escaped from prison; 39 men and 17 women for false pretenses; 354 men and 403 women for incontinence and adultery; 311 men and 318 women for the violation of public decency; 64 delinquent youth for the house of correction—making a total of arrests for the year of 3918 men and 3430 women; besides, they have protected 315 persons apprehensive of assaults from evil-doers. And they have freed the city from the plague of 6048 dogs! Just as many dogs arrested as human beings. These statistics furnish an inadequate idea of the number of knife-fights that are of so common occurrence among the peons about the pulque-shops, in which women and men show an equal skill at stabbing in the back.

54 (Return) For a more authentic account, see Appendix E.

55 (Return) Having lost my memorandum, I am uncertain whether the number of days was one or more, and whether the number of francs named was six or eight. The following is my best recollection of the question and answer on theft:

"Q. Is theft a grave offense?

"A. A theft that does not exceed in value a day's labor is not a grave offense; some theologians contend that a theft that does not exceed six francs is not a grave offense."

56 (Return) I again quote the Catechism from recollection.

"Q. What is a venial sin?

"A. A lie that does not destroy charity among neighbors is a venial sin."

57 (Return) The defense of the invasion of Mexico by Cortéz in time of peace, and reducing the Aztecs to slavery, rests on the ground that the Aztecs were monsters.

58 (Return) Though I do not entirely follow Pinblanch, yet I give him as authority for this incident.

59 (Return) Mr. Gayarre, who, under a commission from the State of Louisiana, is examining the colonial records at Madrid, has discovered the evidence of an attempt made to introduce the Inquisition into New Orleans even after our people had begun to settle there. This is his statement:

"It appears," says Gayarre, "that soon after the death of Charles III., an attempt was made to introduce the much-dreaded tribunal of the Inquisition into the colony. The reverend Capuchin, Antonio de Sedella, who had lately arrived in the province, wrote to the Governor to inform him that he, the holy father, had been appointed Commissary of the Inquisition; that in a letter of the 5th of December last, from the proper authority, this intelligence had been communicated to him, and that he had been requested to discharge his functions with the most exact fidelity and zeal, and in conformity with the royal will. Wherefore, after having made his investigations with the utmost secrecy and precaution, he notified Miro that, in order to carry, as he was commanded, his instructions into perfect execution in all their parts, he might soon, at some late hour of the night, deem it necessary to require some guards to assist him in his operations.

"Not many hours had elapsed since the reception of this communication by the Governor, when night came, and the representative of the holy Inquisition was quietly reposing in bed, when he was roused from his sleep by a heavy knocking. He started up, and, opening his door, saw standing before him an officer and a file of grenadiers. Thinking that they had come to obey his commands, in consequence of his letter to the Governor, he said, 'My friends, I thank you and his Excellency for the readiness of this compliance with my request. But I have now no use for your services, and you shall be warned in time when you are wanted. Retire, then, with the blessing of God.' Great was the stupefaction of the friar when he was told that he was under arrest. 'What!' exclaimed he, 'will you dare lay your hands on a Commissary of the holy Inquisition?' 'I dare obey orders,' replied the undaunted officer, and the reverend Father Antonio de Sedella was instantly carried on board of a vessel, which sailed the next day for Cadiz.

"Rendering an account of this incident to one of the members of the cabinet of Madrid, Governor Miro said, in a dispatch, 'the mere name of the Inquisition uttered in New Orleans would be sufficient not only to check immigration, which is successfully progressing, but would also be capable of driving away those who have recently come, and I even fear that in spite of my having sent out of the country Father Sedella, the most fatal consequences may ensue from the mere suspicion of the cause of his dismissal.'"

60 (Return) An attempt was made to explain away the story of Cortéz getting drowned out at Iztapalapan, a point above the level of the city of Mexico, by suggesting that perhaps an earthquake may have changed the face of the valley. But, unfortunately, Iztapalapan was the southern support of the old Indian levee (calzado), built to keep the water off of the city of Mexico in seasons of heavy rains.

61 (Return) Though the richest ecclesiastical quasi-corporation in the world, your ears are constantly saluted with solicitations for contributions to the impoverished Church.

62 (Return) Colleccion de Leyes, p. 184.

63 (Return) Grando Sinoptico de la Republica Mejicana en 1850. Por Miguel M. Lerdo y Tejado; approved by the Mexican Society of Geography and Statistics.

64 (Return) This number 3223 includes all of the 1139 monks, except the lay brothers. The two classes of priests, those who are not monks and those who are monks, are distinguished in Catholic countries as seculars and regulars (clerigos and religios). Humboldt says the Mexican clergy are composed of 10,000 individuals (Essai Politique, vol. i. p. 172), and, including the nuns, and lay brothers and sisters, he puts the sum total of the religious at 14,000. But in a note he gives the numbers in five of the principal departments out of twelve, which foot up at only 5405 for the clergy of both orders.

65 (Return) "The general revenue destined for the maintenance of the clergy and of religious services in the republic may be divided into four classes: first, that which appertains to the bishops and to the canons, who form the chapter of the Cathedral; second, those revenues which appertain to particular ecclesiastics and chaplaincies; third, those of curates and vicars; fourth, those of divers communities of religios, of both sexes.

"The first class is principally of tithes and first-fruits, the product of which was very considerable in times past, when they included a tenth part of all the first fruits which grew upon the soil of the republic, and the firstlings of the cattle. But lately this revenue has much fallen off, since by the law of the 17th of October, 1833, it is no longer obligatory upon the cultivators to pay this contribution. Nevertheless, there still are many persons who, for conscientious reasons, or for other cause, continue to pay this tax, so that it produces a very considerable sum. This part of the clergy also receive considerable sums which have been left by devout persons for the performance of certain annual ceremonies called anniversaries.

"The collegiate church of our Lady of Guadalupe has, in addition to a monthly lottery, which operates upon a capital of $13,000, certain properties and other capitals of which the government takes no account.

"Particular ecclesiastics and chaplains are supported on a capital generally of $3000, established by certain pious persons for that object, besides the alms of the faithful, which are given for a certain number of masses to be applied to objects of their devotion.

"The support of curates consists of parochial rights, viz., fees for baptisms, marriages, funerals, responses, and religious celebrations (funcions) which, in their respective churches, they command the faithful to make; and, finally, by the profits which they derive from the sale of novenas, medals, scapularies, ribbons (madedas), wax, and other objects which the parishioners employ.

"The income of convents of monks, besides the alms which they receive for masses, funcions, and funerals, which they celebrate in the convent churches, consists of the rents of great properties which they have accumulated in the course of ages.

"The convents of nuns are in like manner supported by the income of great estates, with the exception of two or three convents which possess no property, and whose inmates live on charity.

"Besides the incomes named, which pertain to the personnel of the clergy, there are, in the cathedrals and other parochial [churches], revenues which arise from some properties and foundations created for attending to certain dues called "fabrica" which consist of all those objects necessary for the services of this worship (culta).

"From the want of publicity which is generally observed in the management of the properties and rents [incomes] of the clergy, it is impossible to fix exactly the value of one or the other; but they can be calculated approximately by taking for the basis those data which are within the reach of the public, which are the total value of the production of the annual return (movimiento) of the population for births, marriages, deaths, and, finally, the devout practices which are still customary among the greater part of the population. Observing carefully these data, I assume, without the fear of committing a great error, that the total amount which the clergy to-day realize in the whole extent of the republic, for rents, proceeds of tithes, parochial rights, alms, religious ceremonies (funcions), and for the sale of divers objects of devotion, is between eight and ten millions of dollars.

"Some writers have estimated the properties belonging to the clergy at one half of the productive wealth of the nation; others at one third part; but I can not give much credit to such writers, as they are only calculations that rest on no certain data. I am sure that the total amount of the property of the clergy, for chaplaincies, foundations, and other pious uses, together with rustic and city properties, which belong to the divers religious corporations, amount to an enormous sum, notwithstanding the falling off that is said to have taken place from the amounts of former years.

"All property in the district of Mexico [federal district] is estimated at $50,000,000, the half of which pertains to the clergy. Uniting the product of this property to the tithes, parochial rights, etc., I am well assured that the total of the income of the clergy amounts to from eighteen to twenty millions of dollars."

66 (Return)

The Archbishop of Mexico $130,000

The Bishop of Pueblo 110,000

The Bishop of Valladolid 110,000

The Bishop of Guadalajara 90,000

The Bishop of Durango 35,000

The Bishop of Monterey 30,000

The Bishop of Yucatan 20,000

The Bishop of Oajaca 18,000

Total individual income of twelve bishops $539,000

—Essai Politique, vol. i. p. 173.

The reason why the Bishop of Sonora was limited to $6000 was that his diocese was so poor that he had that salary paid out of the king's revenue.

67 (Return) Most of the Jews of our day are the descendants of the Babylonian Jews, who did not return to Jerusalem after the Captivity, but remained in the province of Babylon until they were driven out, some four hundred or more years after Christ; the Babylonian, not the Jerusalem Talmud, being most commonly in use among them.

68 (Return) I have selected three cases of taking the veil, to which I have added captions, which lift the veil from this practice of consecrating young girls to superstitions uses. They are extracted from Madame Calderon's Life in Mexico.

Taking the Veil.

"I followed the guide back into the sacristy [of the convent], where the future nun was seated beside her grandmother, 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 fête 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 honor among girls similarly situated to look as cheerful and gay as possible—the same feeling, though in a different degree, which induces the gallant highwayman to jest in the presence of the multitude when the hangman's cord is within an inch of his neck; the same which makes a gallant general, whose life is forfeited, command his men to fire on him; the same which makes the Hindoo 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 the 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 disgraciée par la nature; and perhaps a knowledge of her own want of attractions may have caused the world to have few charms for her.

"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, were ranged 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 things that looked real and living in the whole scene; and in the middle of this knelt the novice, still arrayed 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 to smile was truly painful. She then knelt down before the Bishop, and received the benediction, with the sign of the cross, from a white hand with the 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 grating, panting and in a prodigious heat, and ensconced 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 among 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, if 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 grating 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 discoursed upon the exceeding good fortune of the new-made nun, 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."

A Victim for her Musical Powers.

"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: "Ancilla Christi sum," "The bride of Christ I am." She was a good-looking girl, fat and comely, 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 niece to two chanoines, 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."

A Victim of her Confessor.

"She was in purple velvet, with diamonds and pearls, and a crown of flowers; the corsage of her gown was entirely covered with little bows of ribbon of divers 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 eighteen, she was not disfigured by even 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 ball-dress. In the adjoining room long tables were laid out, on which servants were placing refreshments for the fête about to be given on this joyous occasion. I felt somewhat shocked, and inclined to say with Paul Pry, 'Hope I don't intrude.'

"——, 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 every thing. 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 down stairs alone, and entered the carriage which was to drive them through all the principal streets, to show the nun 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 aunts saying, 'Yes, child, despidete 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 window of the carriage at the home of her childhood.

"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 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 has been for so many years the pride of her eyes and heart.

"They gave me an excellent place, quite close to the grating, beside the Countess de 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, &c. 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 years standing, and beckon into the church for the major-domo 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 the 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 churchmen 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 a 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-made nun was in a blaze of light and distinct on the foreground, so that we could mark each varying expression of 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 intensely 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,' said the Countess —— 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.'"

69 (Return) "The Santa Teresa, however, has few ornaments. It is not nearly so large as the Encarnacion, and admits but twenty-one nuns. At present there are, besides these, but three novices. Its very atmosphere seems holy, and its scrupulous and excessive cleanness makes all profane dwellings seem dirty by comparison. We were accompanied by a bishop, Señor Madrid, the same who assisted at the archbishop's consecration—a good-looking man, young and tall, and very splendidly dressed. His robes were of purple satin, covered with fine point-lace, with a large cross of diamonds and amethysts. He also wore a cloak of very fine purple cloth, lined with crimson velvet, crimson stockings, and an immense amethyst ring.

"When he came in we found that the nuns had permission to put up their veils, rarely allowed in this order in the presence of strangers. They have a small garden and fountain, plenty of flowers, and some fruit; but all is on a smaller scale, and sadder than in the convent of the Incarnation. The refectory is a large room, with a long, narrow table running all round it—a plain deal table, with wooden benches; before the place of each nun, an earthen bowl, an earthen cup with an apple in it, a wooden plate, and a wooden spoon; at the top of the table a grinning skull, to remind them that even these indulgences they shall not long enjoy.

"In one corner of the room is a reading-desk, a sort of elevated pulpit, where one reads aloud from some holy book while the others discuss their simple fare. They showed us a crown of thorns, which, on certain days, is worn by one of their number by way of penance. It is made of iron, so that the nails, entering inward, run into the head, and make it bleed. While she wears this on her head, a sort of wooden bit is put into her mouth, and she lies prostrate on her face till dinner is ended; and while in this condition her food is given her, of which she eats as much as she can, which probably is none.

"We visited the different cells, and were horror-struck at the self-inflicted tortures. Each bed consists of a wooden plank raised in the middle, and, on days of penitence, crossed by wooden bars. The pillow is wooden, with a cross lying on it, which they hold in their hands when they lie down. The nun lies on this penitential couch, embracing the cross, and her feet hanging out, as the bed is made too short for her, upon principle. Round her waist she occasionally wears a band with iron points turning inward; on her breast a cross with nails, of which the points enter the flesh, of the truth of which I had melancholy ocular demonstration. Then, after having scourged herself with a whip covered with iron nails, she lies down for a few hours on the wooden bars, and rises at four o'clock. All these instruments of discipline, which each nun keeps in a little box beside her bed, look as if their fitting place would be in the dungeons of the Inquisition. They made me try their bed and board, which I told them would give me a very decided taste for early rising.

"Yet they all seem as cheerful as possible, though it must be confessed that many of them look pale and unhealthy. It is said that, when they are strong enough to stand this mode of life, they live very long; but it frequently happens that girls who come into this convent are obliged to leave it from sickness long before the expiration of their novitiate. I met with the girl whom I had seen take the veil, and can not say that she looked either well or cheerful, though she assured me that 'of course, in doing the will of God,' she was both. There was not much beauty among them generally, though one or two had remains of great loveliness. My friend, the Madre A——, is handsomer on a closer view than I had supposed her, and seems an especial favorite with old and young. But there was one whose face must have been strikingly beautiful. She was as pale as marble, and, though still young, seemed in very delicate health; but her eyes and eyebrows were as black as jet; the eyes so large and soft, the eyebrows two penciled arches, and her smiles so resigned and sweet, would have made her the loveliest model imaginable for a Madonna.

"Again, as in the Incarnation, they had taken the trouble to prepare an elegant supper for us. The bishop took his place in an antique velvet chair; the Señora —— and I were placed on each side of him. The room was very well lighted, and there was as great a profusion of custards, jellies, and ices as if we had been supping at the most profane café. The nuns did not sit down, but walked about, pressing us to eat, the bishop now and then giving them cakes, with permission to eat them, which they received laughing.

"After supper a small harp was brought in, which had been sent for by the bishop's permission. It was terribly out of tune, with half the strings broken; but we were determined to grudge no trouble in putting it in order, and giving these poor recluses what they considered so great a gratification. We got it into some sort of condition at last, and when they heard it played, they were vehement in their expressions of delight. The Señora ——, who has a charming voice, afterward sang to them, the bishop being very indulgent, and permitting us to select whatever songs we chose, so that, when rather a profane canticle, "The Virgin of the Pillar" (La Virgin del Pilar), was sung, he very kindly turned a deaf ear to it, and seemed busily engaged in conversation with an old madre till it was all over.

"In these robes they are buried; and one would think that if any human being can ever leave this world without a feeling of regret, it must be a nun of the Santa Teresa, when, her privations in this world ended, she lays down her blameless life, and joins the pious sisterhood who have gone before her; dying where she has lived, surrounded by her companions, her last hours soothed by their prayers and tears, sure of their vigils for the repose of her soul, and, above all, sure that neither pleasure nor vanity will ever obliterate her remembrance from their hearts."—Life in Mexico, vol. ii. p. 9.

70 (Return) "All Mexicans at present, men and women, are engaged in what are called the desagravios, a public penance performed at this season in the churches during thirty-five days. The women attend church in the morning, no men being permitted to enter, and the men in the evening, when women are not admitted. Both rules are occasionally broken. The penitence of the men is most severe, their sins being no doubt proportionably greater than those of the women; though it is one of the few countries where they suffer for this, or seem to act upon the principle, that 'if all men had their deserts, who would escape whipping?'

"To-day we attended the morning penitence at six o'clock, in the church of San Francisco, the hardest part of which was their having to kneel for about ten minutes with their arms extended in the form of a cross, uttering groans, a most painful position for any length of time. It was a profane thought, but I dare say so many hundreds of beautifully-formed arms and hands were seldom seen extended at the same moment before. Gloves not being worn in church, and many of the women having short sleeves, they were very much seen.

"But the other night I was present at a much stranger scene, at the discipline performed by the men, admission having been procured for us by certain means, private but powerful. Accordingly, when it was dark, enveloped from head to foot in large cloaks, and without the slightest idea of what it was, we went on foot through the streets to the church of San Agustin. When we arrived, a small side door apparently opened of itself, and we entered, passing through long vaulted passages, and up steep winding stairs, till we found ourselves in a small railed gallery looking down directly upon the church. The scene was curious. About one hundred and fifty men, enveloped in cloaks and sarapes, their faces entirely concealed, were assembled in the body of the church. A monk had just mounted the pulpit, and the church was dimly lighted, except where he stood in bold relief, with his gay robes and cowl thrown back, giving a full view of his high, bald forehead and expressive face.

"His discourse was a rude but very forcible and eloquent description of the torments prepared in hell for impenitent sinners. The effect of the whole was very solemn. It appeared like a preparation for the execution of a multitude of condemned criminals. When the discourse was finished, they all joined in prayer with much fervor and enthusiasm, beating their breasts and falling upon their faces. Then the monk stood up, and in a very distinct voice read several passages of Scripture descriptive of the sufferings of Christ. The organ then struck up the Miserere, and all of a sudden the church was plunged in profound darkness, all but a sculptured representation of the Crucifixion, which seemed to hang in the air illuminated. I felt rather frightened, and would have been glad to leave the church, but it would have been impossible in the darkness. Suddenly a terrible voice in the dark cried, 'My brothers! when Christ was fastened to the pillar by the Jews, he was scourged!' At these words the bright figure disappeared, and the darkness became total. Suddenly we heard the sound of hundreds of scourges descending upon the bare flesh. I can not conceive any thing more horrible. Before ten minutes had passed, the sound became splashing from the blood that was flowing.

"I have heard of these penitencies in Italian churches, and also that half of those who go there do not really scourge themselves; but here, where there is such perfect concealment, there seems no motive for deception. Incredible as it may seem, this awful penance continued, without intermission, for half an hour! If they scourged each other, their energy might be less astonishing.

"We could not leave the church, but it was perfectly sickening; and had I not been able to take hold of the Señora ——'s hand, and feel something human beside me, I could have fancied myself transported into a congregation of evil spirits. Now and then, but very seldom, a suppressed groan was heard, and occasionally the voice of the monk encouraging them by ejaculations, or by short passages from Scripture. Sometimes the organ struck up, and the poor wretches; in a faint voice, tried to join in the Miserere. The sound of the scourging is indescribable. At the end of half an hour a little bell was rung, and the voice of the monk was heard calling upon them to desist; but such was their enthusiasm, that the horrible lashing continued louder and fiercer than ever.

"In vain he entreated them not to kill themselves, and assured them that heaven would be satisfied, and that human nature could not endure beyond a certain point. No answer but the loud sound of the scourges, which are many of them of iron, with sharp points that enter the flesh. At length, as if they were perfectly exhausted, the sound grew fainter, and little by little ceased altogether. We then got up in the dark, and with great difficulty groped our way in the pitch darkness through the galleries and down the stairs till we reached the door, and had the pleasure of feeling the fresh air again. They say that the church floor is frequently covered with blood after one of these penances, and that a man died the other day in consequence of his wounds."—Life in Mexico, vol. ii. p. 213.

71 (Return) Ward's Mexico, vol. ii. p. 470.

72 (Return) A very rich portion of a vein is called a bonanza.

73 (Return) Mr. Thomas Auld, the director of the company, furnished me very accurate data in relation to affairs, but these are with my other losses at New Orleans.

74 (Return) Before leaving California, a young man in my office, who had been using some of my money which he could not replace, proposed to repay me in a certificate printed in red ink, which certificate declared that I had paid $2000 toward the capital stock of —— Mining Company; Capital Stock, $250,000; signed Col. ——, President, a gentleman a little in arrears at his boarding-house, and my defaulting young man was secretary. Rather an unpromising show that, as the property consisted of a tavern, built of canvas upon Colonel Fremont's Maraposa grant, on the principle of squatter sovereignty. Near by the squatter had dug a promising hole, and if only money and machinery could be had, perhaps he might realize something from it. The young man assured me that they had an agent in New York negotiating for machinery, and in a few months they would be able to declare dividends. Biting my lips to suppress a hearty laugh, I put the paper printed with red ink into my pocket.

On my arrival in New York, I was thunderstruck at seeing a gilded sign stuck up on the Merchants' Exchange: "—— Mining Company Office." Not over-troubled by modesty, I ventured in, and inquired if that machinery had been sent out. I was requested to be seated in a fine cushioned chair. As I love entertainment, I sat down, and took a survey of the desks, the Brussels carpet, the ledgers, and the piles of pamphlets, which clearly demonstrated that a man would get his money back many times over before he paid it in. It seemed strange how all this could he supported on the supposed future earnings of a hole in the ground. The Board of Directors assembled. Many of them, I was assured, were the leading men of New York, and things went off with all solemnity. When all was ready, an immense piece of the richest gold quartz was taken from a desk, such as used to be sold at good prices in San Francisco for this very purpose. But not a man in that august assembly dreamed of the manner in which such things are gotten up, except perhaps the said agent sent out to get machinery, but now figuring as a director. I was easily prevailed on to sign an argumentative certificate, and was shown one signed by Robert J. Walker on a much worse hole in the ground than this. I was also informed that New York was not the proper market, which I understand to mean that machinery could not be obtained in New York on the credit of a quartz vein; and in London they would not look at a scheme that did not embrace a million at least, said the agent aforesaid. Therefore he proposed to give me an engraved certificate, declaring that I had paid $8000, which of course I readily accepted when I found that there was no machinery in the case, and that all I had to rest my engraved certificate upon was the one hundredth part of the said hole in the ground, with a doubtful title. The last I heard of this agent was, that he was traveling with his wife upon the Rhine. Whether he was in search of machinery or not, I did not stop to inquire.

Instead of the above being an extraordinary case, I understand that it is about a fair average of the California gold schemes that have been brought upon the stock-market of New York. If the papers are only drawn up in the proper form, the most prudent men in Wall Street are sometimes found to embark their capital before the question has ever been settled whether gold can be successfully obtained from quartz in California.

75 (Return) By reference to a long and able paper on the mines in the hill of Proano (Fresnillo), it appears that one half of the cost of four pumping-engines already in operation in that mine was the freight from Vera Cruz to the mine.

76 (Return) This translation is bad enough, but no worse than the original.

77 (Return) This will sound to Protestant readers something like horrible blasphemy; but it must be borne in mind that God the Father of the Catholics is an entirely different idea from the spiritual God whom we worship. The devout Protestant who recognizes but one Being worthy of adoration, veneration, and worship, never ventures to mention any of the names by which He is known but with the profoundest reverence. The Catholic, on the other hand, has a host of objects which he deems worthy of adoration, and seems to have cheapened the article by multiplying it. His senses are all exercised in his peculiar kind of worship, and, as a natural consequence, they are apt to conclude that the Almighty enjoys those exhibitions that give them the greatest pleasure. They worship him by performing a pantomime of the life and suffering of Christ, which is called the mass, and seek to propitiate him by offering the body of his Son in sacrifice. They bestow upon God gifts of jewels and of gold; and as he passes through their streets in the form of a wafer, as they believe, the soldiers present arms, beat the drum, and discharge their cannon, as to an earthly prince. Though our Saviour (Santo Christo) heads the calendar of intercessors between God and man, he is seldom invoked, though they often honor him by naming their children after him. As they have conferred upon a multitude of their saints the supernatural powers of God, they have necessarily brought God himself down to earth. If I might be pardoned the expression, I should say that they treat him and his well-beloved Son with a loving intimacy. The worship of the Catholics is substantially materialism, more or less gross, according to its distance from or its proximity to Protestantism. There is no blasphemy, according to their system, in naming their shops after the Holy Ghost, a horse-stable after "the Precious Blood," though I could never hear them mentioned or see them without having my Protestant notions shocked, while I equally shocked their feelings by refusing to kneel to the Host, and slipping out of the way to avoid it. Nor could I exhibit the least reverence to their religious emblems without committing what in me would be an act of idolatry, the two systems being so diametrically opposite that one can not go a step toward the other without breaking over a fundamental doctrine of his own belief. God is an invisible Spirit, says the Protestant. God is a Spirit, answers the Catholic, but he daily assumes the form of a wafer, and traverses our streets, and in that form we most commonly worship him. Such is the religious antagonism that will ever be found in the world while man remains what he now is, ever divided between mentalism and materialism. Forms and names often differ, but these are the two ideas into which all the religious systems of the world resolve themselves, although abortive attempts are often made to combine them.

78 (Return) Vol. ii. p. 452.

79 (Return) When I was first at the city of Mexico, Governor Letcher introduced to me a son of the late emperor, who had a claim for land in California which he had not located before the annexation. I advised him, without a fee, that our courts did not recognize foreign "floats," and that, by his own laches, he had lost his claim, which he now spread along the Sacramento River for 400 miles. Finding out, after an expenditure of several thousand dollars, the defect, he got a new claim from the late President Lombardini of thirty miles square, which he will probably now pin tight in Sonora. The defect of our two last treaties with Mexico was in not having a clause inserted reducing all titles to land to six miles square, as a consideration for the enhanced value by the annexation.

80 (Return) I would not like to make such extravagant statements on my own authority, however satisfactory the testimony might be to myself, for the abundance of silver in Sonora is beyond the belief of most men. But, fortunately, I have, in Ward's "Mexico," an authority that can not be disputed. The work is accessible to all my readers. The author was charged by the British government with an examination of the mines of Mexico.

81 (Return) Ward, vol. ii. p. 578.

82 (Return) Ibid.

83 (Return) I do not know exactly how to translate the Spanish idea attached to the words creador de plata unless by saying that it is a spot where baser substances are supposed to be converted into silver by some unknown process of nature.

84 (Return) The title to all mines in Mexico rests solely upon discovery and improvement, without any regard to the proprietorship to the land on which the mines are located; but the proof of discovery and improvement must be made and recorded in the mineral courts, except in Sonora, where the ordinary courts have jurisdiction.

85 (Return) The proprietorship of mines in Mexico is acquired by proof being made to the mining court of discovery and actual working; and is again lost by an abandonment of four months; there is no other source of title to mineral lands.

86 (Return) This term is applied to all places distant from the capital.