Narrative of an Official Visit to Guatemala from Mexico/Chapter 4
CHAPTER IV.
I did not find Acapulco by any means so miserable a place as it is so generally described to be: the freshness of the sea-breeze and the beautiful expanse of waters in the bay as fine as any in the world, formed an agreeable contrast to the inland monotonous life which a person leads in the valley of Mexico: the mountains, which surround this valley, give you the idea of prison walls, beyond which you can only escape with difficulty and patience: you seem to be living in a crow's nest, beyond the reach of and intercourse with the rest of the world. How different is the situation of one, who, far from his home and relatives, lives on the sea-shore! he places his foot on the water, and he touches the grand material link of the universe, which seems, also morally, to unite him with the social intercourse of the whole terraqueous globe. These sensations, heightened by the obliging attention shewn me by Mr. Barcaistegie, who had provided for me accommodation in his own house, made me feel indescribably cheerful and happy. I am not partial to fish, but now I felt I could not endure the thought of eating any thing else for my dinner. There is but one kind of fish which is found in the lakes, at Mexico, very watery and insipid, about the size and of the flavour of a small indifferently good whiting. With regard to the proportion of the Mexican to common lakes, it may be properly called the Mexican minnow: I had long become disgusted with them, though they maintained a pretty good character with most of my countrymen no less than the Mexicans themselves: my friend's table was provided with several sorts of the finest fish the town afforded; they were excellent, and all different from any I had before tasted.
Whoever has read Anson's voyage will remember the delight which his poor sailors experienced when they could, at length, put their foot a-shore: they are described as reviving at every step they took upon terra firma. The delight they experienced in leaving the sea for the dry land could not have been greater than that which I felt in leaving the land to plunge into the sea. I never enjoyed a bath so much in my life, but I was, accidentally, inconvenienced in the operation, in a manner which I could not have foreseen. I had hung my shirt on a Nopal shrub on the beech, which was in a flowering state, and emitted from its buds myriads of little prickles, the whole of which were transferred to my body. My agony, added to the intense heat of the climate, was excruciating; it was in vain to attempt to pick them out, for even if I had had the patience to do so, the thing was impracticable, for they had adhesion enough to keep their hold, whilst the slightest attempt to withdraw them broke them short off on the surface of the skin. This incident, trifling as it may appear, caused the night, which was excessively hot, and the following day, to pass most miserably.
Whilst walking on the shore, in the evening, I fell into conversation with a respectable elderly man, an old Spaniard, who, in spite of the badness of trade, was still carrying on his mercantile affairs in this comparatively abandoned port. He was of commanding and rather robust stature, wore his hair combed back and powdered, with a pigtail; had on drab kerseymere breeches unbuttoned at the knees, black and white speckled silk stockings, an ample pair of shoes, and a small pair of diamond buckles: the above, with a shirt of the finest cambric, nicely plaited all over and unconfined at the collar, completed his costume. He invited me to his house, and, as I happened to know many of his intimate friends in Mexico, I was glad to go and have a chat with him. He was very fond of cold water and cigars; his two hammocks were suspended in thorough draughts: he spat all about the stone floor, and used half a dozen clean silver forks to eat his dinner with. The gentleman of whom I speak is Don Juan M—a, and, I repeat, a thorough old Spaniard, for he knows how to regard new fangled institutions with a sneering indifference, and those of antiquated prescription with an indififerent sneer; and, whilst possessing cunning enough to appear temperate, and almost temperance enough to hide his cunning, he has a warm heart with a chill of prejudice, as though he were a compound of his puro and his eau-sucré. He had formerly been a physician, and he even now attends the hospital and the poor who may require his services gratuitously.
The Juez de Letras was applied to by Mr. Barcaistegie, with a view of seeing if any thing could be elicited from my servants respecting the robbery; but, as I suspected, nothing came out on their examination, although taken separately, which could lead to their crimination.
The Carmen, Indiaman, Captain Proudfoot, from China, was lying in the harbour, and we went on board her: she had suffered dreadfully in a gale, a fortnight before she made the port, had lost her mizen, and was so leaky that they had been able to save her only by passing a sail under her, which had fortunately effected the purpose required. She was laden with China goods, the duties of which would have been valuable to the Government, if they had been made available; but, from the system which was going on, I had much doubt whether they would prove so, to any thing like the extent which the republic had a right to expect.
In the evening, about 200 troops were reviewed in the Plaza. On one side of this square, is a shed where some of the authorities, and particularly the Commissary General, were sitting and going through their business with solemnity and importance. I discovered that the Commissary was Don José Barazo, and felt a little ashamed that I had not known, or not attended to, his name before, for he was the very same person who had accompanied me into Acapulco. I was glad to find he experienced but little bad effects from his fall.
The troops at this station are composed of the most abandoned portion of the Mexican population. Most of those we met with on the road, when the officer was so strenuous in defence of their honour, were convicts, who were coming to replenish the ranks of the hopeful band who were on the parade. There was scarcely a man of them, I was told, who had not committed crimes worthy of death: one of them, a fair slight made man, about twenty-three, with light hair, was particularly pointed out to me as known to be one of the greatest desperados that ever had human form; he is said to have bragged that he had committed thirteen murders and assassinations, amongst which his father was one of the victims. These are dangerous materials with which to ensure the safety of a town, by entrusting the garrison and all the strong places in their hands.
Tuesday, 3d May. At ten o'clock, whilst we were at breakfast, a message was brought informing us that the flag was hoisted on the fort, and that the Tartar was in sight. I immediately mounted my horse, accompanied by Mr. Barcaistegie, and rode up the side of the hill called the Quebrada, to witness the interesting object. Before twelve o'clock, Lieut. Morgan came on shore to see if I had arrived, and, a few hours after, Captain Brown himself also landed. I was glad to find I had not detained him, and, as he was in a hurry to depart, it was settled that I should go on board the next day.
The street in which my host, the acting consul, lived, was not large, but it was one of the best, and contained the most respectable houses in the town. Towards the evening, an assembly of the inhabitants had collected before the house, and a dance was struck up in the open air. The music consisted of guitars played to good time, which was rendered more distinct and marked by the spectators, many of whom accompanied it by tattooing with their fingers on the benches or any thing else near them equally convenient for the purpose. Two or three of them who had unemployed guitars, and were not acquainted with the use of the strings, or perhaps with the tune which was playing, shewed a wonderful dexterity in the use of their fingers, by thrumming on the back of the instrument with such correctness as to give the stress and feeling of the air in the most perfect manner, without the intonation and cadence of the notes. There were relays of dancers as well as of musicians, so that the amusement was kept up, without intermission, for two or three hours. The dance was, throughout, a repetition of the Spanish bolero in its original, unscientific, form. A couple of each sex were not only partners, but danced entirely independent of all the rest, and when they were tired they made room for another party. They begin coyishly coyishly, approaching to, and retiring from, each other; then sometimes the one and sometimes the other advances, the other retrograding in proportion; then there is an appearance of disdain, by a stamp of the foot, which is repeated by the other, then a milder advance which is also repeated,—but every body knows what a Spanish bolero is, and why should I describe it; I can only say it was danced with as much decency, and, I believe, innocence, on this occasion, as I ever saw it. As the night advanced, the street was lighted with large flambeaux of pine wood, which burned furiously, and, from their numbers, gave a brilliant and dazzling light. By ten o'clock, the dancers were tired, and the spectators, having smoked their due number of cigars, retreated to beds, which would have made a Witney manufacturer a bankrupt even to look upon.