in the capital. One little circumstance showed the impolicy and inefficiency of the laws. On account of high duties, smuggling was carried to such an extent on the coast that many articles were regularly sold at the Palisada for much less than the duties.
The revolution, like all others in that country, began with pronunciamentos, i.e. declarations of the municipality, or what we should call the corporation of a town, in favour of any particular party. The Palisada had made its pronunciamento but two weeks before, the Central officers had been turned out, and the present alcalde was hardly warm in his place. The change, however, had been effected with a spirit of moderation and forbearance, and without bloodshed. Don Francisco, with a liberality unusual, spoke of his immediate predecessor as an upright but misguided man, who was not persecuted, but then living in the place unmolested. The Liberals, however, did not expect the same treatment at the hands of the Centralists. An invasion had been apprehended from Tobasco. Don Francisco had his silver and valuables packed up, and kept his bungo before the door to save his effects and family, and the place was alive with patriots brushing up arms and preparing for war.
Don Francisco was a rich man; had a hacienda of 30,000 head of cattle, logwood plantations, and bungoes, and was rated at 200,000 dollars. The house in which he lived was on the bank of the river, newly built, 150 feet front, and had cost him 20,000 dollars, or 4,000l. While we were with him, dinner was about being served, in a liberal style of housekeeping unusual in that country, and, with the freedom of a man who felt sure that he could not be taken unawares, he asked us to join him at table. Don Francisco had never travelled farther than Tobasco and Campeachy, but he was well acquainted with Europe and the United States, geographically and politically; indeed, he was one of the most agreeable companions and best-informed men we met in that country. We remained with him all the afternoon, and toward evening moved our chairs outside in front of the house, which at evening was the regular gathering-place of the family. The bank of the river was a promenade for the people of the town, who stopped to exchange greetings with Don Francisco and his wife; a vacant chair was always at hand, and from time to time one took a seat with us. When the vesper bell struck, conversation ceased, all rose from their seats, made a short prayer, and when it was over turned to each other with a buenos noces, good evening, reseated themselves, and renewed the conversation. There was always something imposing in the sound of the vesper bell, presenting the idea of an immense multitude of people at the same moment offering up a prayer.
