In Indian Mexico | Page 5

buildings, the
thought of the morrow's duty lost its sweetness. He several times
remarked that it was a great pity to lose any of our precious morning
hours in saying mass, when there were ruins of such interest to be seen.
These complaints gained in force and frequency as evening approached,
until finally, as we sat at supper, he announced his decision to say mass
before daybreak; he would call me at five o'clock, we would go directly
to the church, we would be through service before six, would take our
morning's coffee immediately after, and then would have quite a piece
of the morning left for the ruins, before the coach should leave for
Oaxaca.
The plan was carried out in detail. At five we were called from our beds
by the anxious padre. Herman and I were the only members of the party
who were sufficiently devout to care to hear mass so early. With the
padre, we stumbled in the darkness up to the church, where we roused
the old woman who kept the key and the boy who rang the bell. The
vestments were produced, the padre hastily robed, and the bell rung; the
padre was evidently irritated at the absence of a congregation, as he
showed by the rapid and careless way in which he repeated the first part
of the service. When, however, at the Credo, he turned and saw that
several poor indians had quietly crept in, a change came over him; his
tone became fuller, his manner more dignified, and the service itself
more impressive and decorous. Still, we were through long before six,
and throwing off his vestments, which he left the boy to put away, the
padre seized me by the arm, and we hastened down the hill to our
morning's coffee. On the way we met a number of indians on their way
to mass, whom the padre sternly rebuked for their laziness and want of
devotion. Immediately after coffee, we were among the ruins.
The padre had kindly arranged for my presentation to his Grace,
Archbishop Gillow. Reaching Oaxaca late on Sunday afternoon, we
called at the Palace. His Grace is a man of good presence, with a face
of some strength and a courteous and gracious manner. He appeared to

be about fifty-five years of age. After the padre had knelt and kissed the
ring, the archbishop invited us to be seated, expressed an interest in our
trip to Mitla, hoping that it had proved successful. He then spoke at
some length in regard to his diocese. He emphasized its diversity in
climate and productions, the wide range of its plant life, the great
number of indian tribes which occupied it, the Babel of tongues within
it, its vast mineral wealth. A Mexican by birth, the archbishop is, in
part, of English blood and was educated, as a boy, in England. He
speaks English easily and well. He showed us many curious and
interesting things. Among these was a cylindrical, box-like figure of a
rain-god, which was found by a priest upon his arrival at the Mixe
Indian village of Mixistlan.[A] It was in the village church, at the high
altar where it shared worship with the virgin and the crucifix. The
archbishop himself, in his description of the incident, used the word
latria. We were also shown a little cross, which stood upon the
archbishop's writing-table, made in part from a fragment of that
miraculous cross, which was found by Sir Francis Drake, upon the west
coast. That "terrible fanatic" tried to destroy it, according to a
well-known story. The cross was found standing when the Spaniards
first arrived and is commonly attributed to St. Thomas. Sir Francis
upon seeing this emblem of a hated faith, first gave orders to hew it
down with axes; but axes were not sharp enough to harm it. Fires were
then kindled to burn it, but had no effect. Ropes were attached to it and
many men were set to drag it from the sand; but all their efforts could
not move it. So it was left standing, and from that time became an
object of especial veneration. Time, however, destroys all things.
People were constantly breaking off bits of the sacred emblem for relics
until so little was left of the trunk near the ground that it was deemed
necessary to remove the cross. The diggers were surprised to find that it
had never set more than a foot into the sand. This shows the greatness
of the miracle.
[A] Survivals of Paganism in Mexico. The Open Court. 1899.
The padre had been assigned to the parish of Chila, a great indian town,
near Tehuacan. Early the next morning he left for his new home.

Not only did the padre, while