Puebla, the Sacred City.—General Forey.—Battle-Ground.—View of the City.—Priestly Miracles.—The Cathedral.—Snow-Crowned Mountains. —A Cleanly Capital.—The Plaza Mayor.—A Typical Picture.—The Old Seller of Rosaries.—Mexican Ladies.—Palm Sunday.—Church Gala Day. —Education.—Confiscation of Church Property.—A Curious Arch.—A Doll Image.—Use of Glazed Tiles.—Onyx a Staple Production.—Fine Work of Native Indian Women.—State of Puebla full of Rich Resources. —A Dynamite Bomb.—The Key of the Capital.

Our next objective point is Puebla, situated seventy-five miles, more or less, southeast of the city of Mexico. It is the capital of the state of the same name, and in a military point of view is the key to the national capital. It has often changed hands with the fortunes of war, both civil and foreign, which have so long distracted this land of the sun. One of the most desperate fights which took place between the Mexicans and the French forces occurred here, the event being celebrated by the people of the republic annually as a national festival. Puebla cost the intruders a three months’ siege and the loss of many lives in their ranks before it yielded. General Forey, the commander of the besieging force, increased as far as possible the difficulties of the conflict, in order to send, with the customary French bombast, brilliant bulletins to Paris, and thus bind a victor’s wreath about his own brow, and enable him to obtain a much-coveted marshalship. In this he was successful, as he was promoted to that dignity upon his return to France. The fact was that an ordinary fighting column of American or English troops would have taken the place in twenty-four hours, the defense being totally inadequate, and the Mexican soldiers comparatively insignificant. The defenders of the place were raw and undisciplined, and composed of the worst possible material. Many of them were péons who had been impressed at the point of the bayonet; others were taken from the prisons and put at once into the ranks. As we have already stated, this is a common practice in Mexico.

In the environs of the town is what is called the hill of Guadalupe, famous in the annals of Mexican history, this being the principal battle-ground of the 5th of May. The Mexican forces were four thousand strong, defended by earthworks improvised by cutting down the walls of the church of Guadalupe. The French troops were six thousand strong. The defenders were under command of General Zaragoza; the French, under General de Lorencez, who attacked the fort with great dash and vigor. The Mexicans repulsed them with heavy loss to the attacking party. It was not a very important battle, but its moral effect upon the Mexicans was excellent. They realized that they were comparatively raw troops, and that their enemies were trained soldiers of the much-lauded French army. Though it was only a gallant repulse, it was heralded all over the country as being a great victory, and probably had as much effect upon the popular mind as though it had been. It gave them courage to continue their warfare against the invaders with increased determination. Five years later, the position was reversed, when General Porfirio Diaz—now President—took Puebla by storm and made prisoners of its French defenders. Between the occurrence of these battles the fortifications on the hill of Guadalupe had been erected. The view from the fort is one of extraordinary interest, taking in three snow-capped mountains, and affording a comprehensive panorama of the city with its myriad domes and fine public buildings, the tree-decked Plaza Mayor, the alameda, the stone bridge over the Aloyac, while over the Cerro de San Juan is seen the church of Los Remedios, which crowns the great earth-pyramid of Cholula. To the south of the city lies the interesting suburb of Jonaco, and to the north, on the hill of the Loreto, stands the fort of the Cinco de Mayo.

Puebla contains between eighty and ninety thousand inhabitants, and is rated as the fourth city of the republic in point of population and general importance. It certainly rivals the larger cities in the character of its principal buildings, which are mostly constructed of granite, as well as in some other respects. Among the citizens it bears the fanciful name of La Puebla de los Angeles (The City of the Angels). One might reasonably think this was on account of its beautiful situation and salubrious climate; the veracious chroniclers tell us it was because the walls of the grand cathedral were erected amid the songs of angels. What would any Roman Catholic institution be in Mexico without its mystery and miracles? In this instance, the legend runs to the effect that the angels built as much each night upon the walls of the church while it was erecting as the terrestrial workmen did each day. It is of basaltic material, supported by massive buttresses, and as a whole is surpassingly grand. High up over the central doorway of the main front is placed in carved stone the insignia of the order of the Golden Fleece. The interior is as effective and elegant as that of any church we can recall, having some fine old bronzes and valuable paintings, the latter well worthy of special attention, and embracing some thirty examples. The woodwork upon the grand altar shows an artistic excellence which is rarely excelled. The two organs are encased, also, in richly carved wood, exhibiting figures of angels blowing trumpets. The interior adornments, as a whole, are undoubtedly the finest of any church or cathedral in Mexico. A majority of writers consider that the cathedral of the national capital is the grandest church on the continent of America, but with this we cannot agree; to our mind, the cathedral of Puebla, all things considered, is its superior.

Puebla might be appropriately called the city of churches, for, at a short distance, the countless domes and steeples looming above the flat tops of the houses are the main feature. We believe that it has as many edifices occupied for religions purposes as the city of Mexico. The twin towers of its stately cathedral are especially conspicuous and beautiful. The town was founded three hundred and sixty years ago, and retains, apparently, more of its ancient Spanish character than most of its sister cities. From any favorably situated spot in the town, for instance from the hill of Guadalupe, one beholds rising in the southwest, twenty-five miles away, the snowy crown of the world-renowned Popocatepetl, the view of this mountain being much superior to that had at the national capital, while the two hardly less famous mountains of Orizaba and Iztaccihuatl are also in sight, though at farther distances. The rarefied atmosphere makes all these elevations clear to the view with almost telescopic power.

The nights here are a revelation of calmness and beauty. The stars are much brighter than they appear to us in the dense atmosphere we inhabit. The North Star and the Southern Cross are both visible, though only a portion of the Dipper is to be seen. Within the points of the Southern Cross there is a brilliant cluster of stars, which are not apparent to the naked eye, but which are made visible by the use of the telescope, shining like a group of gems in a choice necklace. How glorious is the sky on such nights as we experienced at Puebla, so full of repose; no force can disturb its eternal peacefulness! Below, all about us, rages a nervous activity; every one is stricken with the fever of living; but we raise our eyes to that broad, blue, star-spangled expanse, and behold only the calm, adorable majesty of heaven.

There are extensive manufactories in Puebla, especially in cotton goods, leather, soap, hats, matches, and earthenware; indeed, it has been called the Lowell of Mexico. It is also destined to become eventually a considerable railroad centre, having already established connections with the capital, Vera Cruz, and other important points. There are six railroad depots in the city, each representing a more or less important railway line.

The stranger is agreeably struck with the appearance of Puebla at first sight, and is confirmed in this impression as he becomes better acquainted with its mild and healthful climate, tempered by being more than seven thousand feet above the sea level, its wide, cleanly streets, running exactly east and west, north and south, its beautiful, flower-decked Plaza Mayor, its fine public squares, the interesting Moorish portales nearly surrounding the plaza, its gray old churches, and its neat stores and houses, having their various-colored fronts ornamented by iron balconies. The ever-present contrast between wealth and poverty, so striking in most of the Mexican cities, did not seem so prominent here. The people were certainly better clothed, and looked more cleanly and respectable. We saw very few beggars in the streets. The lame and the blind must have been taken care of by the municipal authorities, for none were to be seen in public. The city is clean in all its visible belongings. There are no offensive smells, such as greet one in the badly-drained capital of the republic. The thoroughfares teem with a bright, cheerful population, often barefooted and in rags, to be sure, but still smiling and good natured. True, we first saw the town under favorable auspices, it being Palm Sunday, and those who had them probably donned holiday costumes. The Plaza Mayor was radiant with the brilliant colors of the rebosas and serapes, agreeably relieved by the black lace mantillas of the more select senoras and senoritas. Many of these wore marvelously high heels, not infrequently having only Eve’s stockings inside of their gayly-ornamented boots! The Indian women who had come to town to see the church cérémonials formed an unconscious but interesting portion of the holiday show in their sky-blue or red rebosas, and the variegated skirt wound about waists and hips, leaving the brown limbs and bare feet exposed. They were gathered all about the square, awaiting their opportunity; and as half a hundred came pouring down the broad steps, others hastened to take their places inside the church.

The cathedral already alluded to forms one whole side of the Plaza Mayor. It is not quite so large as that of the city of Mexico, though it has the effect of being so. Like that, it stands upon a raised platform, built of dark porphyritic stone, the surface being five or six feet above the level of the plaza. The principal front is in the Doric style; but the two tall side towers are Ionic. The two domes, covered with the glittering native tiles, throw back the sunlight with a dazzling mottled effect. The chapels of the interior are perhaps a little tawdry with their profuse gilding, and the main altar is dazzling with gold, having cost, it is stated, over a hundred thousand dollars. The pulpit is especially curious, and was carved by a native artist from onyx, which came from a neighboring quarry. The floor is of marble, while that of the more pretentious edifice at the city of Mexico is of wood, a token indicative of more important matters wherein the Puebla cathedral is superior in finish. The main roof, with its castellated cornice and many pinnacles, its broken outlines, and crumbling, gray old stone sides, is wonderfully picturesque.

Not many years ago there hung from the lofty ceiling a famous and most beautiful golden lamp of exquisite workmanship, the intrinsic value of which is said to have been over one hundred thousand dollars. During the civil war it was ruthlessly broken up and coined into doubloons to aid General Miramon to keep the field while representing the church party. The bells attached to the cathedral are of the most costly character and of superior excellence. These are eighteen in number, the largest of which weighs about ten tons. One is at a loss to understand why so many and so expensive bells are required, since they are not arranged as chimes, and have no apparent connection with each other.

A typical picture is recalled which presented itself as we entered for the first time the broad portal of the cathedral, where an old, wrinkled, bare-limbed woman, poor and decrepit, sat upon the stones at the entrance of the church offering rosaries for sale. She did not speak, but held up a cross with its attachments, accompanied by a look so cadaverous, so weak and pitiful, that she got the silver she desired and kept her beads. The poor creature, so aged, emaciated, and ragged, had somehow a strangely significant look about her, suggestive of having known better days. It was a festal occasion, and many bright-eyed senoritas, casting stolen glances about them while accompanied by their duennas, were passing into the church. What a contrast of youth and age, between these fair young creatures so richly clad, so fresh and full of life, and the faded, hopeless vender of rosaries resting her weary limbs on the flinty portal!

The Mexican ladies have none of the languor of their continental sisters, but are overflowing with vivacity and spirit. We remember these buds of humanity at the church door; they seemed to be “spoiling” for a chance flirtation, looking out from deep black eyes full of roguishness. Within the dimly-lighted church the smell of burning incense, the sharp tinkling of the bell before the distant altar, the responsive kneeling and bowing of the worshipers, the dull murmur of the officiating priest, the deep, solemn tones of the great organ,—all combined to impress themselves upon the memory, if not to challenge an unbeliever’s devotion.

At midday, on the occasion of our second visit, the priests were clad in the gayest colors, the robes of some being red, some blue, others white, and all more or less wrought with gold and silver ornamentation. The attendants and the priests who were not officiating carried tall palm branches. The marble floor of the nave was covered with kneeling devotees, among whom every class of the populace was represented; rags and satins were side by side, bare feet and silken hose were next to each other. Indians, Spaniards, and foreign visitors mingled indiscriminately; there were few men, but many women. The choir was singing to an organ accompaniment, while the military band was playing in the plaza close at hand, opposite the open church doors, causing rather an incongruous mingling of sounds, and yet with the remarkable surroundings it did not strike the ear as inharmonious. Here and there, along the side of the church, a woman was seen kneeling, with her lips close to the little grating of the confessional. Now and again the closely wrapped figure of a man was observed making its way among the crowd, with a dark and sinister expression upon his face betraying his lawless character. He was here prompted by no devotional impulse, but to watch and mark some intended victim. As we came out of the cathedral, long lines of natives were seen, men, women, and children, sitting on the edge of the sidewalks, or squatting near the low garden wall of the church, eating tortillas, while an earthen jar of pulque was occasionally passed among them, all drinking from the same vessel. Another group close by these had a lighted cigarette which they were handing from one to another, men and women alike, each taking a long whiff, which was swallowed to be slowly emitted at the nostrils. It was a gala day, a church festival, of which there are something less than three hundred and sixty-five in the year. These idlers had nothing to do and plenty of time to do it in. Puebla has always been most loyal to the Catholic Church, even when directly under the evil influence of the Inquisition. It is visited to-day by thousands of Roman Catholics from various parts of the country at periods when church cérémonials are in progress, because they are more elaborately carried out here than in any other city of the republic. Indeed, the place is generally known and spoken of by Mexicans as “The Sacred City.”

It seemed on inquiry and from casual observation that more attention was given to the cause of education here than in some other districts we had visited, colleges and schools being maintained by the state as well as by the municipality, however much opposed by the priestly hierarchy. The fact is, that education is the true panacea for the ills of this people, and it is the only one. It is the poor man’s capital. Freedom can exist only where popular education is fostered. The soldier and the priest have been too long abroad in Mexico. When the schoolteacher’s turn shall come, then let tyranny and bigotry beware. The primer, not the bayonet, should be relied upon to uphold the liberty of a nation. Thirty or forty years ago illiteracy was the rule in Mexico; but each year sees a larger and larger percentage of the population able to read and write. This evidence of real progress is not confined to any locality, but is widespread among both those of Spanish descent and the half-castes. The situation of the péons is still one of entire mental darkness.

The episcopal palace, near the cathedral, is a picturesque edifice, with its red roof tiles faced with white. So late as 1869, the city contained a dozen nunneries and nine or ten monasteries; but these institutions are happily of the past, the buildings which they once occupied having been occupied for various business purposes, as hospitals, public schools, and libraries. When the confiscation of the enormous wealth of the church was decreed and carried out by the government some twenty years since, that organization actually held a mortgage on two thirds of the real property of the entire country. The priesthood was completely despoiled of even their churches, which they now occupy only on sufferance, the legal fee in the same being vested in the government. To emphasize this fact one sees the national flag waving on special occasions over the cathedrals as well as other government properties. Their other real estate has been sold and appropriated to various uses, as we have shown. The indefatigable priesthood are and have ever since been steadily at work accumulating from the poor, overtaxed, and superstitious people money which we were told was hoarded and so disposed of as not to be again liable to seizure under any circumstances. It is the boast of the church party that their confiscated millions shall all be gathered into their coffers again. They may possibly get back the gold, but their lost power will never be regained. Intelligence is becoming too broadcast in Mexico, and even the common people begin to think for themselves.

In the church of San Francisco, erected in 1667, there was pointed out to us an arch, supporting one of the galleries, so flat that no one believed it would stand even until the church was dedicated. So pertinaciously was the architect badgered and criticised at the time of its construction, that he finally lost faith in his own design, and fled in despair before the threatening arch was tested. It was therefore left for the monks to remove the supporting framework at the proper time. This they ingeniously did without any danger to themselves, by setting the woodwork on fire and letting the supporting beams slowly burn away! To the wonder of all, when they had been thus removed, the arch stood firmly in its place, and there it stands to-day, sound and apparently safe, after being in use for two hundred years, and having passed through the severe test of more than one slight earthquake. In this church, which, after the cathedral, is the most interesting in Puebla, we were shown by an old, gray-haired priest the little doll representing the Virgin Mother which Cortez brought with him from Spain to Cuba, and thence to Vera Cruz, carrying it through all of his campaigns with apparent religious veneration. It is astonishing to see the reverence with which this toy is regarded. Adjoining the church is a reconstructed convent which is now used as a military hospital, and before which lounged an awkward squad of soldiers belonging to the regular army. There are several very old churches in the city, on whose eaves and cornices small trees and tropical bushes, which have planted themselves in these exposed places, have grown to considerable size, surrounded by deep-green moss, shaded by the rounded domes and lofty towers.

A feature of the town which is sure to attract the attention of a stranger is the fanciful manner in which the people adapt richly colored and highly ornamented glazed tiles for both internal and external decoration of public and private buildings. The effect of this was certainly incongruous, not to say tawdry. There are eight or ten tile factories in Puebla, and one glass manufactory. Some of the work turned out in both these lines is really very artistic and attractive. Large quantities are regularly shipped to various parts of the country. In several shops collections of onyx ornaments are to be seen, besides handsome baskets and mats of colored straw, all of which are of native workmanship. Onyx may be said to be the rage of Puebla. We remember an attractive store solely devoted to the sale of this stone, where the large and most artistic display formed a veritable museum. Here members of our party expended considerable sums of money in the purchase of pretty mementoes to take home with them as souvenirs of Puebla de los Angeles. Onyx articles are shipped from here in considerable quantities to London and Paris, where there are agencies for their sale. The quarries whence these fine specimens come are fifty miles away from the city, near Mount El Pizarro.

The State of Puebla is remarkable for producing a fine quality of wheat, and also for its heavy yield of other cereals. One may look in vain elsewhere for better apples, pears, peaches, and plums than are offered in the public market of this attractive town, all of which are grown in its immediate vicinity. Articles of embroidery were offered at one of the open stands in the market-place fully equal to the Fayal product so well known in Boston. The very low price demanded for fine linen handkerchiefs and napkins, representing days of patient labor on each, showed how cheaply these native women estimate their time. They will follow the most intricate design which may be given to them as a pattern, reproducing it with Chinese fidelity, and with as much apparent ease as though it were their own conception. It seemed to us, as we examined this delicate product, that art needlework could hardly go further as to perfection of detail. This work is not that of dainty fingers and delicate hands, educated and taught embroidery in some convent school, but the outcome of very humble adobe cabins, and the instinctive artistic taste of hands accustomed to the severe drudgery of a semi-barbarous life. It was found that the sales-people, when they first receive these goods from the natives, are obliged to wash and bleach them thoroughly, they are so begrimed, but they know very well how beautifully the work will prove to be executed, and gladly purchase it even in this soiled condition.

For so restricted a territory, Puebla contains a great aggregate of valuable resources,—a rich and extensive coal-mine near by on the ranch of Santa Barbara, inexhaustible stone-quarries on the hill of Guadalupe, abundant deposits of kaolin close at hand for the manufacture of porcelain ware, a sufficient supply of material for making lime to last a hundred years, an iron mine within eight or ten miles which employs a large foundry, running night and day; while the neighboring foothills are covered with an almost inexhaustible supply of good merchantable wood. Certainly, no city in Mexico is better situated as to natural resources. The state is so located as to embrace a great variety of climate. In the north it produces wheat, corn, and other cereals, also affording grazing ground to immense herds of domestic animals, while in the south it yields liberal crops of cotton, tobacco, sugar, rice, and a great variety of fruits, together with many rich and beautiful cabinet and dye woods. Truly, this is a record which few localities can equal in any zone.

We have said that Puebla is the key to the national capital. This is proven by the fact that the chief events in its history have been the battles fought for its possession. A few of those which most readily occur to the memory are its capture by Iturbide, August 2, 1821; its occupation by Scott, May 25, 1847; its successful defense against the French, May 5, 1862; its capture by the French, May 17, 1863; and its capture from the French, April 2, 1867, by General Diaz, now President of the republic.

We were told that the thieving populace of Puebla had so provoked the agent of the company who own the road between Mexico and Vera Cruz, by abstracting everything they could lay their hands on, whether available for any purpose of their own or not, that he finally resolved to set a trap which should teach them a severe lesson. A small dynamite bomb with its brass screw at the vent was left exposed in the yard at night. One of the prowling, thieving péons climbed the wall and attempted to abstract the cap,—not because he was in want of a brass cap to a dynamite bomb; he would have stolen a railroad spike or an iron tie all the same. He hadn’t fooled with this instrument more than sixty seconds before it was discharged in his hands with a report like a cannon. The consequence was, that not enough of that would-be thief could be found to give the body Christian burial! It was observed thereafter that péons didn’t feel sufficient interest in the company’s affairs to climb the wall which incloses the depot, and meddle with the articles of railroad property lying about the yard. This was a pretty severe dose of medicine, but it wrought a radical cure.