CHAPTER IX.
CHIMALAPA—THE CABILDO—A SCENE OF REVELRY—GUASTATOYA—A HUNT FOR ROBBERS— APPROACH TO GUATIMALA—BEAUTIFUL SCENERY—VOLCANOES DE AGUA AND FUEGO—FIRST VIEW OF THE CITY—ENTRY INTO THE CITY—FIRST IMPRESSIONS—THE DIPLOMATIC RESIDENCE—PARTIES IN CENTRAL AMERICA—MURDER OF VICE-PRESIDENT FLORES—POLITICAL STATE OF GUATIMALA—AN EMBARRASING SITUATION—THE CONSTITUENT ASSEMBLY—MILITARY POLICE.
At peep of day I bathed in the Motagua. In the mean time the deaf and dumb boy prepared chocolate, and the corpse of the young man was borne to its final resting-place. I went over to the desolate house, bade farewell to the mourners, and resumed my journey. Again we had on our right the Motagua River and the mountains of Vera Paz. The road was level; it was excessively hot, and we suffered from thirst. At noon we stopped two hours at the village of Fisioli. Late in the afternoon we came upon a table-land covered with trees bearing a flower, looking like apple-trees in blossom, and cactus or tunos, with branches from three to fifteen feet long. I was in advance; and having been in the saddle all day, and wishing to relieve my mule, I dismounted and walked. A man overtook me on horseback, who touched me by telling me that my mule was tired. The mule, unused to being led, pulled back, and my new acquaintance followed, whipping her; and remembering the fable, and that I could not please every-body, I mounted, and we rode into Chimalapa together.
It was a long, straggling village, with a large church, but there was no padre, and I rode to the cabildo. This, besides being the townhouse, is a sort of caravansary or stopping-place for travellers, being a remnant of Oriental usages still existing in Spain, and introduced into her former American possessions. It was a large building, situated on the plaza, plastered and whitewashed. At one end the alcalde was holding a sort of court, and at the other were the gratings of a prison. Between them was a room about thirty feet by twenty, with naked walls, and destitute of chair, bench, or table. The luggage was brought in, the hammock hung up, and the alcalde sent me my supper. Hearing the sound of a drum and violin, I walked to the house whence it issued, which was crowded with men and women smoking, lounging in hammocks, dancing, and drinking agua ardiente, in celebration of a marriage. The night before I had been present at a
