The Express.
London, England, 1846-11-04 00:00:00

A SALNT'S DAY IN VERA CRUZ.

[We are indebted for the following sketch to a correspon-
dent. It will be found peculiarly interesting at the present
time.]
On the final expulsion of the powers of Old Spain
from Vera Cruz, the remains of the royalist army contrived
to ensconce themselves in the castle of San Juan de Ulloa.
To expel them from this last stronghold, the Mexican
government, after even a more than usual degree of waste
of time and money, from the guns jobberies of unnecessary
expenses and prevarications, got together a naval squadron
of some half a dozen vessels, inadequate to the attempt.
True, they succeeded; tfut it was by the assistance of yel-
low fever and starvation, and accompanied by their own
destruction, together with that of at least three-fourths of
all the officers and men. Shortly, however, after the arrival of
the largest of these vessels (La Libertad, a 40-gun frigate), the
governor of Vera Cruz gave a grand ball and supper, to which
all the officers of the army and navy in the Mexican service
were invited. Only those of the navy who belonged to the
flag-ship were able to go, the brigs and gun-boats being on
duty. Nine or ten of us went.
On entering the city we found it was some Saint's Day,
and all the inhabited horses had different-coloured banners
or falling draperies, of cloth, cotton, silk, or velvet, according
to the rank and means of the occupier, hanging from the bal-
conies. The soldiers were also in new uniforms of white
and gold, or blue and silver; and many Mexicans, paysanos,
and others, in their light picturesque dresses, were hurrying
to and fro. It formed an atreeable contrast to our previous
visit to this city of disease, and dilapidation from recent bom-
bardment. As much gaiety mean well be conceived in such a
place under existing cireumstinces was visible. Groups of
well-dressed men, in broad round-brimmed sobrerones, white
jackets, and dark slashed velvet breeches ; women with
their beads, and charms, and crosser, over bright shawls and
handkerchiefs; drapery and ornament stalls opened or set up
fur the day; coffee-shops filled with visitors, the doors and
windows all open ; punch houses the same, with here and
there some jolly-looking English sailor confidently battling
it out in gibberish (which he thought would do for Spanish,
since Spanish was no better than gibberish to him), to make
it understood that he wanted " neat " rum, and hated
lemonade. And yet, by turning aside, you presently found
yourself in a deserted street, and all again was silence and
ruin. The walls were green with weeds, the houses hollow
and cleft with shot and shells, and wild rank flowers grew
tall in the middle of the vacant street. No one was
scarcely ever seen in these places, unless it was a sol-
dier hastily passing by, or some poor diseasnl In-
dian, who had crawled here to die out of the way.
We passed through the market-place, and a more disagree-
able sight, connected with the idea of eatables, could not well
be fiend. In fact, the market was over, long before we
arrived ; and nothing but huge dead leaves, gigantic stalks,
and rotten fruits were strewn and mashed about, and reek-
ing in the sun. Had a manufactory been established for the
creation of yellow fever, it could hardly have been more effec-
' teal than these vapours of decomposed vegetable refuse. A
low stone wall enclosing some cadaverous-looking water, with
a kind of pedestal, or post, in the centre, that had a spout
growing out of it, and a deformed leaden image stuck above
it, was called La Fuente de San Antonio (Saint Anthony's
fountain), and certain miraculous things were related about
the water. " Much good may it do you," drily observe I an
English sailor, as he saw a devout old woman dip a small cup
into it.

There are no public buildings in Vera Cruz worthy of
much examination. Still, there were many of the houses
that bore remains of beauty, though none of any height that
had not been shattered out of all proportion. The palace of
the governor is a large flat-fronted edifice of discoloured
white, streaked and ornamented at intervals with lines of
dingy red, like the marks of ochre on a sheep's back ; and
having a large portico in front, and a long, bare, and dreary
piazza all about it, extending down the angle at both sides to
some distance beyond the main building. The deserted
appearance of the palace, the first time I went to Vera Cruz,
reminded me of an hospital or madhouse ; it now partook
also of the outside of some immense show, the portico being
crowded with soldiers and visitors in rich and motley dresses.
The parochial church (La Iglesia l'arroguitt), monasteries,
barracks, custom-house, hospital. convents, &c., had all the
same general appearance. I hare forgotten to say that one of
the first things I saw in Vera Cruz, was a large red hand-bill
pasted against the walls of the custom-house (surrounded by
wondering and inquiring Mexicans and custom-house offi-
cers), setting forth the extraordinary properties of " Day and
Martin's blacking." Now, in a country where the people
do not use such a thing, this could be only sent out for
"fame." We dined at an eating-house, and none of the
cleanest in the world. All the dishes were cooked in the
Spanish fashion, and breathed eloquently of garlic. We
found the wine execrable, except the claret, which was as
usual ; cigars, chocolate, and coffee were of course excellent.
Finding the party disinclined to move, I went out alone
for a quiet ramble, as the sun was down and the streets be-
ginning to cool. After sauntering about some time, I found
myself opposite La lyksia Parroguia. I paused awhile at
the entrance, then bent forward and looked in. All was so
silent and solemn that I had some doubts if it would be pro-
per
to enter, especially as the people considered us infidels.
At last I uncovered my head, and walked in very silently.
An air of monastic gloom and mystery pervaded the place,
which was only partially illumined by a few dull streaming.
across the wide stone pavement, that came in a mellow haze
through the painted glass, thick as it was with dust parched
by the sun. When I had gazed for some minutes
around me, viewing the lofty aisles, pillars, and tombs,
with the many darksome corners, where, by a glim-
mering lamp before the shrine, some devotee was visible,
kneeling in prayer, I silently advanced to the further end,
and there, nailed to a crucifix, I stood before a figure of
Jesus Christ, entirely black. There were many ornaments
and figures about the different shrines, which were probably
of *ilea- and gold ; though they looked much more like pew-
ter and copper, from the sacred dust and tarnish that
covered them. There were very few pictures, and those
rubbish. One only struck me as tieing good, though in very
bad preservation. It was a head in deep shade, looking
mildly upwards, with an expression of inquiring resignation.
The hair was flowing in sad solemnity down the sides of the
temples and grief-worn cheeks. There way a divinity in the
eyes, and a peculiarly sweet expression about the eye-lids,
where the soul seemed to repose, even as the feelings did on
the parted lips. Yet the general impression conveyed was
that of pain, and melancholy, and long suffering. I fancied
it was one of the martyrs by Velasquez, or some other
old Spanish painter.
I will pass over a variety of intermediate things. and make
it evening. Imagine all the dilapidated streets illuminated
by lamps and fireworks, and two young men slowly pacing
along to see whatever the festival might produce. We soon
fell in with an officer of the Mexican army, with a profusion
of hair on his face, and lace on his pantaloons. He saluted
us without introduction, except by looking at the Mexican
crest on our buttons. " St* bueno," said he; and, seizing
our arms, entered into conversation in Spanish, occasionally
interspersed with hits of very broken English. He took us
round to the principal illuminations, where different devices
were formed, and rude transparencies, expressive of liberty
and national independence. Our conversation now turned
on the beauty of the Vera CM ladies, and our new friend
informed us that he had married an English wife, and
asked us to accompanysecompany him to their residence. We agreed ;
and accordingly walked till we arrived in a deserted, lamp-
less, back street, and, entering a dark passage, began
to ascend a flight of still darker stairs. Groping our
way up, we at length reached the top ; when the Mexican
opening a door to the right, we soddenly found ourselves in
the lady's bed-room ; and what WWI more, with the lady in
bed. The delicacy of an Englishwoman was of mune out-
raged by this heedless exposure before her countrymen. But
why in bed at this early hour of the evening ? Was the lady
unwell, we inquired. No answer was returned. She was
some time before she recovered from her embarrassment,
though we had seated ourselves, and did what we could to
pus the matter off. The Mexican officer sat simpering upon
an old box at the foot of the bed, and grinned as he looked
from her to us, and from us to her, in the very mistaken
notion that he understood what we spoke of. He now
made an attempt to ask us. in broken English, something
about what money we had? The Englishwoman suddenly stop-
ped him with a kick from beneath the coverlid, slily given as
she thought ; and then made a very had excuse, in the shape of a
false translation of what he had said. We let this pass,
and began to ask about the nature of her indismrition, as
she certainly appeared very sallow and languid. She
answered coolly, that she was recovering from the yellow
fever! My companion and myself looked at each other in
dismay. She had had it about a fortnight, she said, but she
really was recovering; and he (pointing to the grinning
Mexican) would cure her, at last, she was sure. "He !"
exclaimed we, in surprise. " Oh, yes," was the answer,
"he is a doctor !" The truth now pretty clearly
appeared; and we could not forbear laughing, notwith-
standing our apprehensions, at the whimsical impudence
of the roguery, in bringing men, under the pre-
tence of an introduction to a countrywoman, that
they might catch the fever, and give a professional
gentleman of Vera Cruz the honour and profit of endea-
vouri ,g to cure them! We drew out our cigars, smoking
being considered a protection from infection ; and by way of
supporting the English character for boldness, we sat with
grim quietude for nearly a quarter of an hour after receiv-
ing the above pleasant information. The adventure was not
altogether unworthy of Gil Bias.
From this lovely abode of a Mexican physician's decoy-
duck we proceeded to the ball-room at the palace, to attend
the fife given by his Excellency General Harrigan, the
Governor of Vera Cruz. A palace, indeed ! The ball-room
was a long and lofty kind of saloon ; the walls were
coloured with a pale red wash; candles in abundance
were stuck about, without order, and principally in
front of some dusty and distorting looking-glasses ;
hundreds of tawdry yellow chairs stood on each aide,
and the floor of the dancing-room was of brick or tile of