Saltillo
Saltillo is quite a large city, but possessed none of the natural beauties
of location of Monterey, no orange or fig trees, a few straggling vines and
an occasional century plant relieve the monotony; many of the natives half
clad, dirty and idle, lounge in the streets, beg from door to door, or sleep
on the stones in the suburbs. It is celebrated for goats, plagues, fleas,
shaggy ponies and beggars.
There is, however, some industry displayed by a few weavers, who manufacture
fancy colored blankets, used by both sexes. The houses here, as in all
Mexico, are built of unburnt brick and stone, two storied, of almost
universal height, plain and white. Very little wood is used by the Mexicans
in building. The ceilings are generally arched and the roofs made of cement
and soil, and often flower gardens are cultivated on the house tops; no
glass in the windows, but iron grate bars are universally used. The cooking
is done over square ovens with charcoal, and the vessels are stone crockery.
Stoves were then unknown, and as the climate is mild, no other fires were
maintained except for cooking purposes. It was a dirty place, and fleas the
natural product of the dust of the city.
On the outskirts of the city are some fine residences of rich men, but the
city proper, though substantially built, is not at all fascinating. There
is, however, one building very majestic and beautifully proportioned, the
cathedral, second in grandeur to the grand cathedrals at the City of Mexico
and Pueblo. It is ornamented with rich carvings in fresco and elegant
mouldings adorn the wings.
Thirty-five years ago several of the Greys entered the cathedral together.
Frank Scribner, George Lapping and the writer are still living here, Goff
and Warren Robinson are dead and the others scattered, and may be dead for
aught I know. It was crowded to overflowing-men, women and children all
standing-suddenly, at the bidding of the priest, all kneeled upon the large
stone floor, making divers and sundry crosses with their hands upon the
forehead and breast, and chanting in concert. It was a solemn scene. After
the vast crowd of worshippers had finished their adulations and retired, we
advanced into the interior to view the splendors of the altars and the
glittering ornaments of the towering dome. Above the grand altar blazes
forth beautiful carvings in gold, so brilliant as to dazzle the eyes of the
beholder. On one side was a statue of the Virgin Mary, on the other the
bleeding Savior on the cross. The thunder tones of the organ were hushed and
silence reigned while we contemplated and surveyed the temple erected to the
worship of God. The dome is embellished with frescoes of angels reveling
amid stars of brilliancy and exquisite softness. The paintings are very
fine, representing various saints, the virgin and child, the Savior, etc.
The simplicity of the services in our catholic churches at home dwindle into
insignificance beside the stately grandeur of the holy Mass in the churches
of Mexico.
to be continued . . .
Posted by Sue P. Carpenter 2005, all rights reserved