# Vagabond life in Mexico/The Jarochos

The Jarochos
CHAPTER I.
Jalapa.
If there is any place in Mexico where the sun shines upon a richer vegetation than that in the valley of Jalapa, there is certainly no part of the country that enjoys a moister atmosphere. A dense, compact mass of light gray vapors always stretches from the summit of the Cofre de Perote to the very verge of the horizon. From this dark canopy, which is always charged with moisture, a fine drizzling rain falls, cloud lets of mist roll along the roofs of the houses, the streets are deserted, and Jalapa suffers dreadfully during the greater part of the year for the magnificence of its perpetual verdure; but the sun has no sooner torn aside this cloudy veil, and the deep blue of the heavens and that of the hills has become blended into one, than Jalapa becomes the enchanting town which at a distance it promises to be. The steep streets, which have now put on a very lively appearance, present at every step some charm which is ever varying. The eye is arrested sometimes by the blue and red painted houses which peep out from clumps of guava-trees, of liquidambars and palms—sometimes by the mountains which overhang the town—by the rocks which are completely hidden by a drapery of convolvuli—by the thousand streams which burst from their sides— ​and by the paths which are soon lost to view between a double hedge of daturas, honey-suckles, and jasmines.
When evening has come a shade falls upon the land scape, but the veil is so transparent that it softens its contour without effacing it. Even the night at Jalapa is quite as beautiful as the day. It is then that life begins to stir in the town. The ground-floor is, in all houses in hot countries, the place of rendezvous for the family and friends. It is in the evening at Jalapa, and at several other towns in Mexico, that the stranger can obtain the best insight into the domestic life and manners of the inhabitants. Every open window then sends forth a welcome ray of light into the dark and silent street, and the traveler can not but hear the joyous merriment that is going on within. In the warm nights of this beautiful climate the stranger can thus share in these fêtes every evening; he can see the Jalapeñas display their charming vivacity without affectation, from the first moment that the fête commences till the flowers in their head-dresses wither, the harp ceases to be heard, and the windows are closed behind their iron bars.
​My pecuniary resources were almost exhausted, and I was obliged to set out, taking with me my servant Cecilio and another traveling companion, a young spaniel bitch, answering to the name of Love, an appellation which Cecilio had transferred into a Spanish name with quite a different signification, Lova (she wolf). This dog followed me in all my wanderings; and my horse Storm, who had contracted an affection for her, never galloped with greater animation than when he felt her bounding between his legs or fawning upon his chest.
We soon left behind us the fertile hills of Jalapa, its orange groves and daturas, its plains dotted with bananas and guava-trees, and arrived at Lencero. This name was given to the place by one of Cortez's soldiers who had set up a venta there. In that quarter are still to be found some of these huts called jacales. Lencero offers likewise an additional interest to the curious traveler. Near the hamlet, upon the top of a hill, from which, in a clear day, the serrated tops of the Cordillera and a distant view of the ocean can be easily obtained, rises a little house with red stained walls, ornamented with a modest veranda, and surmounted by a mirador (belvedere) of glass. This agreeable retreat is the country house of General Santa Anna.
At some distance from Lencero our road passed through the gorges of Cerro-Gordo, and a dull roar, like the sea-waves breaking on a rocky beach, warned us of our approach to the River Antigua. Seven arches, thrown with great boldness over a deep ravine, at the bottom of which the river flows; the blasted rocks ​and the filled-up abysses, still attest the ancient grandeur of the old masters of Mexico. This bridge is now called the Puente Nacional.
Vera Cruz is only about forty miles from the Puente Nacional; but since our departure from Jalapa, the heat had become gradually overpowering. Storm snuffed up with delight the burning wind which imbrowned the grass; it reminded him of the hot breezes of the savannas. It was the first time for five years that he had bathed in the rays of a sun similar to that of his distant querencia, and his joy was manifested by his wild neighing. Love, on the contrary, her tongue lolling out, and her chest heaving, sought in vain for some drops of dew in the midst of a vegetation parched and withered by the heat of such a sun.
Fatigued by a ride which had lasted longer than I had anticipated, I pulled up for an instant. I had not intended that my halt should be long, as I wished to reach Vera Cruz that evening, leaving my servant to follow next morning if his horse could not keep up with mine; but Fate had decreed otherwise. Cecilio, who had lagged behind, came up at the very moment I was going to start. The sweat was rolling in beaded drops from his burning brow, and his face, ordinarily so calm and placid, wore an appearance of extreme uneasiness. He shuffled up alongside of me. I was doubly surprised. It was the first time that he had ever shown himself wanting in respect, and the effort he now made to keep his horse close to mine was quite without precedent.
"Señor," said Cecilio to me, "if the accounts I have picked up on the road are to be relied on, we ​have entered the district in which yellow fever is so rife, and I must say that I have strong fears for my personal safety, and, with your lordship's permission, will go no farther."
"Very true," said I, "the yellow fever has haunts peculiar to itself; it is, besides, very partial to stout, healthy people like you; but never mind; you know the road from here to Mexico, and you may consider the horse on which you are at present mounted your own, in lieu of the money I owe you."
Unfortunately, there was a question of wages between the valet and his master which the gift of a foundered horse, fit only for the knackers, could scarcely cover. The former hinted delicately at the difficulty, and wished to be paid on the spot. I had then recourse to an argument which I thought would leave him without any reply.
"You know why I left Jalapa so soon. Now, as there are no commercial houses in these deserts that will accept a bill of mine upon Vera Cruz, you must have patience till we get there."
Cecilio made no reply; but his attitude proved that he did not consider himself beaten. In fact, after riding in silence for about half an hour, he came again to the charge.
"If your lordship would take me to Europe with you," he said, "I should not care about running my chance of the yellow fever. He who runs no risk will never cross the sea, as the proverb says."
I reminded Cecilio that such a voyage was very expensive, and that among those foreigners who had emigrated to Mexico there were very few millionaires, and that the greater part generally went away as poor as they came. "Although," I added, "such men may ​be looked upon as of consequence here, when they arrive in their own country they are not treated with a like consideration."
This stopped his mouth, and he again lapsed into his former taciturnity. We continued our journey, but he still hung obstinately on my heels. All at once he uttered a cry of joy.
"What is the matter?" I asked.
"I have hit upon a capital way of settling the business."
"Ah! let me hear it."
"I propose to your lordship," he replied, gravely, "to stake your horse Storm against the wages which are due me. As it is impossible for you to pay me here, and you see that I am unalterably resolved to go no farther, your lordship can not refuse to assent to my proposition. If your lordship win, we shall be quits, and I shall then have only the honor of having served you for nothing. If your lordship lose, I shall have the chestnut horse and the favor of God."
​"Your lordship will honor me by dealing them," said he, with redoubled gravity.
I shuddered, and took the pack with a hand not at all steady. Not to prolong my absurd position, I determined that the game be decided in three alburs. Five minutes would then settle the question. I put down two cards from the pack. Cecilio chose one, I took the other; then, after laying down half a dozen cards in succession, I won the first albur. Not a frown crossed Cecilio's face; and, for my part, I thought that fortune was going to befriend me for once in my life, but I lost the second throw. The third albur remained, which would decide the affair.
While thus engaged, we had not perceived two horsemen who were advancing toward us. I did not see them, for my part, till they were almost at my side. The sound of their voices caused me to raise my head, and at a single glance I saw in one of the new-comers a perfect specimen of the Jarocho. He wore in all its purity the peculiar costume of this class of men, a straw hat with a broad brim turned up behind, a fine linen shirt with cambric frills, without any vest above it, a pair of blue cotton velvet breeches open at the knee, and falling in a point to the middle of his leg. In a belt of Chinese crape of a scarlet color hung a straight sword (machete}, without guard or sheath, the sharp and glittering blade of which sparkled in the sun. His feet, which were bare, were held in the wooden stirrup only by the tips of his toes. This Jarocho, his head inclined indolently upon one shoulder, sat his horse in the attitude peculiar to ​people of his caste, whose easy manner and unconstrained demeanor suited him to perfection. His complexion partook equally of the darkness of the negro and the copper color of the Indian. It was a more difficult matter to define precisely what the other cavalier was, who was habited in an Indian robe, blue pantaloons, and bottines of Cordovan leather, while a rich hat of Jipijapa straw sheltered him from the rays of the sun. His face, with a slight tinge of sternness in it, might have become equally well a merchant, a horse-dealer, or a highwayman, and the easy-going horse that he be strode seemed to suit equally all three suppositions.
Two gamesters at play, wherever they may be, are always an agreeable sight for Mexicans of all classes, and, to my great annoyance, the two horsemen stopped short to look at us. I sat quite motionless with the cards in my hand, and was much confused at being surprised at an occupation so contrary to my habits. As no stake was visible, however, I flattered myself that I would be able to keep up appearances so far as to make them believe that it was only the most innocent pastime; but I had to do with men who are acute judges of human character.
"Might I ask if this beautiful horse is the stake?" asked the horseman in the Indian robe, saluting me, and accompanying his request with a piercing look.
"Exactly so," I answered.
"In that case you are playing high, Señor," replied the cavalier; "and if, as I fancy, the horse is your own, I wish Fortune may be propitious to you; but would you not like any body to help you with their advice?" ​"I prefer finishing the game as I commenced it. I have always remarked that I have more luck when there is no one by."
The cavalier was too much of a gamester himself not to see at once the full force of my scruples, and, turning to his companion, said, ""Tis as well as it is. Time presses. We must part here, although, if I have time, you may trust on my rejoining you at the fandango of Manantial; still, to speak truth, if certain infallible signs do not deceive me, the north wind will not be long in beginning to blow."
"To-morrow, then, if it is possible," answered the Jarocho; and the two cavaliers separated, the first following the direct road, while the horseman in the Indian robe took a path on the left.
"What the devil has the north wind to do with a fandango in a little village?" I asked, mechanically, of my valet.
"The cavalier in the Indian robe is perhaps afraid of catching cold," said Cecilio, with an affected air.
After this absurd explanation, we again began the game which had been so unexpectedly interrupted. I once more drew two cards out of the pack. One was the sota de bastos (knave of clubs). Cecilio chose it. I shuffled the cards this time with a trembling hand. My heart beat. Perhaps I was going to lose the daily companion of five long years. Cecilio wiped away the sweat which ran in streams down his forehead. Suddenly he uttered a cry which pierced to my innermost core. I was just turning up the knave of hearts.
"You have lost, sir!" cried he.
At these words, spoken in good French, I regarded Cecilio with mute surprise. He, meanwhile, stepping ​up proudly to my horse, put his foot in the stirrup, and was going to spring upon Storm's back.
"Stop!" I cried; "the saddle does not go with the animal." I then ordered him to take the saddle off, and to put it on the back of the other horse. Cecilio executed this order, which would probably be the last he would ever receive from his old master, with sufficient readiness and good will. This done, he mounted that horse which was no longer mine. I cursed my folly, but it was too late. A feeling of pride, however, kept me from showing the remorse I felt; and, to hide my chagrin, I asked Cecilio how he had managed to pick up so much French without my knowledge.
"I have not been behind the chair of your lord ship," he replied, "especially when you dined with your countrymen, without acquiring some of the language; and as for making you acquainted with that fact, I was too wide awake. Your lordship, from that time, would have kept your secrets to yourself."
Cecilio was evidently like one of that class of valets who figure so largely in the picaresque romances of Spain. More than once he had reminded me of Ambrosio of Lamela in Gil Blas. His physiognomy had not deceived me. However, in spite of the impudence which he here manifested for the first time, he seemed, when the parting moment came, to suffer considerably. It was natural, in fact, to show some emotion when he was leaving a master who had used him kindly. Moved by this token of feeling on his part, I showed that I was not without some affection for him.
"Cecilio, my friend," I said, "the horse you have won from me would have been yours before many days had passed. Are you grieved because you have been the means of taking him from me?" ​Cecilio squeezed out a tear.
"The truth is," said he, "I regret seeing your beautiful saddle on the back of such a sorry brute, and I am ashamed at the miserable appointments that the horse I have won is provided with. But, if your lord ship is in the humor, would it suit you to play for the saddle and bridle?"
This was too much. Overcome by this last piece of ingratitude, "Take care," I cried, cocking a pistol, "that I do not take back a horse which you are not worthy to mount."
* ↑ The women of Jalapa are renowned throughout the whole republic for their beauty and grace, and their taste in fêtes, music, and flowers is unrivaled.
* ↑ These huts are constructed of bamboos, wattled so as to admit both air and light freely.
* ↑ Before the independence of Mexico this bridge was called Puente del Key (the King's Bridge).
* ↑ The game called monte is thus divided.
* ↑ The peasants of the sea-coast and the country round Vera Cruz are so called.
* ↑ These hats, which take their name from the place where they are made, are often worth from £10 to £12 each.