{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_45852/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_45852","id":"gutenberg_45852","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/45852","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Folklore -- Mexico","Legends -- Mexico","Tales -- Mexico"],"text":"[Illustration: EL PVENTE DEL CVERVO\n\n [See page 127.]\n\n\n\n\n LEGENDS\n OF THE\n CITY OF MEXICO\n\n COLLECTED BY\n THOMAS A. JANVIER\n MEMBER OF\n THE FOLK-LORE SOCIETY, LONDON\n\n ILLUSTRATED WITH SIX PICTURES BY\n WALTER APPLETON CLARK\n AND BY PHOTOGRAPHS OF PLACE\n\n [Illustration: logo]\n\n HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS\n NEW YORK AND LONDON\n MCMX\n\n\n\n\n BOOKS BY\n\n THOMAS A. JANVIER\n\n\n IN OLD NEW YORK. Illustrations and maps. Post 8vo $1.75\n\n THE DUTCH FOUNDING OF NEW YORK. Illustrated. 8vo, Half-leather\n net 2.50\n\n THE AZTEC TREASURE-HOUSE. Ill'd. 8vo 1.50\n\n THE UNCLE OF AN ANGEL. Ill'd. Post 8vo 1.25\n\n THE PASSING OF THOMAS. Illustrated. 8vo 1.25\n\n IN THE SARGASSO SEA. Post 8vo 1.25\n\n IN GREAT WATERS. Illustrated. Post 8vo 1.25\n\n SANTA FE'S PARTNER. Illustrated. Post 8vo 1.50\n\n THE CHRISTMAS KALENDS OF PROVENCE. Illustrated. Post 8vo, net\n 1.25\n\n\n HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, N. Y.\n\n\n\n\n Copyright, 1910, by HARPER & BROTHERS.\n\n _All rights reserved._\n Published January, 1910.\n _Printed in the United States of America._\n\n\n\n\n TO\n C. A. J.\n\n WITHOUT WHOSE HELP THIS BOOK\n COULD NOT HAVE BEEN MADE\n\n\n\n\n CONTENTS\n\n\n PAGE\n INTRODUCTION ix\n\n LEGEND OF DON JUAN MANUEL 1\n\n LEGEND OF THE OBEDIENT DEAD NUN 6\n\n LEGEND OF THE PUENTE DEL CL\u00c9RIGO 11\n\n LEGEND OF THE MULATA DE C\u00d3RDOBA 15\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLEJ\u00d3N DEL MUERTO 22\n\n LEGEND OF THE ALTAR DEL PERDON 30\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLEJ\u00d3N DEL ARMADO 39\n\n LEGEND OF THE ADUANA DE SANTO DOMINGO 43\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLE DE LA QUEMADA 52\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLE DE LA CRUZ VERDE 59\n\n LEGEND OF THE MUJER HERRADA 64\n\n LEGEND OF THE ACCURSED BELL 69\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLEJ\u00d3N DEL PADRE LECUONA 84\n\n LEGEND OF THE LIVING SPECTRE 96\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLE DE LOS PARADOS 108\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLE DE LA JOYA 112\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLE DE LA MACHINCUEPA 116\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLE DEL PUENTE DEL CUERVO 127\n\n LEGEND OF LA LLORONA 134\n\n\n NOTES\n\n PAGE\n DON JUAN MANUEL 141\n\n ALTAR DEL PERDON 145\n\n ADUANA DE SANTO DOMINGO 149\n\n LA CRUZ VERDE 149\n\n MUJER HERRADA 150\n\n ACCURSED BELL 153\n\n CALLEJ\u00d3N DEL PADRE LECUONA 156\n\n LIVING SPECTRE 159\n\n LA LLORONA 162\n\n\n\n\n ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n DRAWINGS BY WALTER APPLETON CLARK\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLE DEL PUENTE DEL CUERVO _Frontispiece_\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLE DEL PUENTE DEL CL\u00c9RIGO _Facing p._ 14\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLEJ\u00d3N DEL ARMADO \" 40\n\n LEGEND OF THE MUJER HERRADA \" 66\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLEJ\u00d3N DEL PADRE LECUONA \" 88\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLE DE LOS PARADOS \" 108\n\n\n PHOTOGRAPHS OF PLACE\n\n CAPILLA DE LA ESPIRACI\u00d3N _Facing p._ 4\n\n LA CRUZ VERDE \" 60\n\n HOME OF DO\u00d1A MAR\u00cdA \" 110\n\n HOUSE OF DON JUAN MANUEL \" 142\n\n DOORWAY, HOUSE OF DON JUAN MANUEL \" 144\n\n NO. 7 PUERTA FALSA DE SANTO DOMINGO \" 152\n\n WHERE THE DEAD MAN WAS CONFESSED \" 156\n\n\n\n\n INTRODUCTION\n\n\nThese legends of the City of Mexico are of my finding, not of my\nmaking. They are genuine folk-stories. Each one of them is a true\nfolk-growth from some obscure curious or tragical ancient matter that,\ntaking hold upon the popular imagination, has had built up from it\namong the people a story satisfying to the popular heart.\n\nMany of them simply are historical traditions gone wrong: being rooted\nin substantial facts which have been disguised by the fanciful\nadditions, or distorted by the sheer perversions, of successive\ngenerations of narrators through the passing centuries. Others of them\nhave for their kernel some unaccounted-for strange happening that,\nappealing to the popular mind for an explanation, has been explained\nvariously by various imaginative people of varying degrees of\nperception and of intelligence: whose diverse elucidations of the\nsame mystery eventually have been patched together into a single\nstory--that betrays its composite origin by the inconsistencies and\nthe discrepancies in which it abounds. A few of them--starting\nout boldly by exalting some commonplace occurrence into a\nmarvel--practically are cut from the whole cloth. All of them--and\nmost obviously the most incredible of them--have the quality that\ngives to folk-stories in general their serious value: they reflect\naccurately the tone of thought, and exhibit more or less clearly\nthe customs and the conditions, of the time to which they belong.\nAmong the older people of the City of Mexico, alike the lettered and\nthe unlettered, they still are cherished with a warm affection and\nare told with a lively relish--to which is added, among the common\npeople, a lively faith. The too-sophisticated younger generation,\nunhappily, is neglectful and even scornful of them. Soon, as oral\ntradition, they will be lost.\n\nMost fortunately, the permanent preservation in print of these\nlegends--and of many more of the same sort--long since was assured.\nBecause of the serious meaning that is in them, as side-lights on\nhistory and on sociology, they have been collected seriously by\nlearned antiquarians--notably by Don Luis Gonz\u00e1lez Obreg\u00f3n and by Don\nManuel Rivera Cambas--who have searched and sifted them; and who have\nset forth, so far as it could be discovered, their underlying germs of\ntruth. By the poets--to whom, naturally, they have made a strong\nappeal--they have been preserved in a way more in keeping with their\nfanciful essence: as may be seen--again to cite two authors of\nrecognized eminence--in the delightful metrical renderings of many of\nthem by Don Vicente Riva Palacio, and in the round threescore of them\nthat Don Juan de Dios Peza has recast into charming verse. By other\nwriters of distinction, not antiquarians nor poets, various\ncollections of them have been made--of which the best is the\nsympathetic work of Don Angel R. de Arellano--in a purely popular\nform. By the playwrights have been made from the more romantic of\nthem--as the legend of Don Juan Manuel--perennially popular plays. By\nminor writers, in prose and in verse, their tellings and retellings\nare without end.\n\nWhile the oral transmission of the legends among the common\npeople--by heightening always the note of the marvellous--has tended\nto improve them, the bandying about in print to which they have been\nsubjected has worked a change in them that distinctly is for the\nworse. In their written form they have acquired an artificiality that\ndirectly is at odds with their natural simplicity; while the sleeking\nof their essential roughnesses, and the abatement of their equally\nessential inconsistencies and contradictions, has weakened precisely\nthe qualities which give to them their especial character and their\npeculiar charm.\n\nThe best versions of them, therefore, are those which are current\namong the common people: who were the makers of them in the beginning;\nwho--passing them from heart to lip and from lip to heart again\nthrough the centuries--have retained in them the subtle pith that\nclearly distinguishes a built-up folk-story from a story made by one\nmind at a single melting; whose artless telling of them--abrupt,\ninconsequent, full of repetitions and of contradictions--preserves the\nfull flavor of their patchwork origin; and, most important of all,\nwhose simple-souled faith in their verity is of the selfsame spirit\nin which they were made. These are the versions which I have tried\nhere to reproduce in feeling and in phrase.\n\n * * * * *\n\nMy first winter in Mexico, twenty-five years ago, was spent in\nMonterey; and there, in a small way, my collection of Mexican\nfolk-lore was begun. My gathering at that time consisted mainly of\nsuperstitious beliefs--omens, house-charms, the evil eye, the unlucky\nday--but it included a version of the story of La Llorona essentially\nidentical with the version, here given, that I later found current in\nthe City of Mexico. The sources from which I drew in Monterey were\nthree or four old, and old-fashioned, women with whom my wife\nestablished such friendly relations as to win them into freely\nconfidential talk with her; the most abundant yield coming from a\nkindly old Do\u00f1a Miguelita (she was given always the affectionate\ndiminutive), who was attached loosely as a sort of brevet grandmother\nto the family with whom we were lodged. Had I been alone I should not\nhave been able to extract any information from these old people. It\nwould have been impossible to convince them that such matters could\nbe regarded with anything but contempt by a man.\n\nIn like manner, later, from a most valuable source in the City of\nMexico, my information was to be had only at second-hand. This source\nwas our dear Jos\u00e9fa Correa, who during four successive winters at once\nwas our washer-woman and our friend. Jos\u00e9fa's semi-weekly visits gave\nus always a warm pleasure; and her talk--of which she was no\nmiser--gave us always much of interest to ponder upon: she being a\nvery wise old woman, with views of life that were broad and sound. As\nshe was precisely of the class in which the folk-stories of the city\noriginated, she was the best of authorities for the current popular\nversions of them: but always was it through my wife that her tellings\nof them came to me. Various other old women, encountered casually,\nsimilarly were put under contribution by my wife for my purposes. One\nof the most useful was a draggled old seller of rebozos; another, of\nequal value, was a friendly old body whom we fell in with at a railway\nstation while waiting through two hours for a vagrant train. To me all\nof these women would have been sealed books; I could have got nothing\nfrom them without my wife's help.\n\nFor that help, and for the help that she has given me in searching and\nin collating my authorities for the Legends and for the Notes relating\nto them, I am very grateful to her.\n\nTo my friend and fellow-lover of things ancient and marvellous,\nGilberto Cano, I am under signal obligations. In addition to his nice\nappreciation and his wide knowledge of such matters, this excellent\nman--twenty-four years ago, and later--was the best waiter at the\nH\u00f4tel del Caf\u00e9 Anglais. (It is gone, now, that admirable little hotel\nover which the brave Monsieur Gatillon so admirably presided--and the\nCity of Mexico distinctly is the worse for its loss.) Our\nacquaintance, that had its beginning in my encounters with him in his\nprofessional capacity, soon ripened into a real friendship--still\nenduring--along the line of similarity of tastes. His intelligent\nanswers to my questions about one or another of the many old buildings\nwhich attracted our attention in the course of our walks about the\ncity--then all new to us--early impressed upon me a serious respect\nfor his antiquarian attainments; and this respect was increased when,\nafter making a hesitant offer of them that I accepted eagerly, he lent\nto us several excellent books treating of the ancient matters in which\nwe were interested: explaining, modestly, that these books were his\nown; and that he had bought them in order that he might acquire an\naccurate knowledge of the city in which he had been born and in which\nfor all his life he had lived. As my own knowledge grew, I found that\nin every instance he had answered my questions correctly; and the\nbooks which he had lent to me were certified to, later, by my erudite\nfriend Don Jos\u00e9 Mar\u00eda Vigil, Director of the Biblioteca Nacional, as\nstandard authorities--and I bought copies of all of them to add to the\ncollection of Mexicana that I then was beginning to form.\n\nGilberto was so obliging as to spend several afternoons in our\nquarters--coming to us in the dull time between luncheon and dinner\nwhen his professional duties were in abeyance--that I might write at\nhis dictation some of the many folk-traditions with which his mind was\nstored. Like our dear Jos\u00e9fa, he was an absolute authority on the\ncurrent popular versions, and he seemed to share her faith in them;\nbut he told them--because of his substantial knowledge of Mexican\nhistory--more precisely than she told them, and with an appreciative\nunderstanding of their antiquarian interest that was quite beyond her\ngrasp.\n\nHe was a small man, our Gilberto, with a low and gentle voice, and a\nmanner that was gentle also--both in the literal and in the finer\nsense of the word. In the thrilling portions of his stories he would\nlean forward, his voice would deepen and gather earnestness, his\nbright brown eyes would grow brighter, and his gestures--never\nviolent, and always appropriate--would enlarge the meaning of his\nwords. With the instinct of a well-bred man he invariably addressed\nhimself to my wife; and through his discourse ran a constant refrain\nof \"and so it was, Se\u00f1orita\"--_pues si, Se\u00f1orita_--that made a point\nof departure for each fresh turn in the narrative, and at the same\ntime gave to what he was telling an air of affirmative finality.\nUsually he ended with a few words of comment--enlightening as\nexhibiting the popular viewpoint--either upon the matter of his story\nor by way of emphasizing its verity.\n\nHis tellings ranged widely: from such important legends as those of\nDon Juan Manuel and La Llorona--his versions of which are given in my\ntext--to such minor matters as the encounter of his own brother with a\nfreakish ghost who carried the bed on which the brother was sleeping\nfrom one part of the house to another. All the knowledge being on his\nside, I could give him little guidance--and whatever happened to come\ninto his head, in the way of the marvellous, at once came out of it\nagain for my benefit. Some of his stories, while exhaustively\ncomplete, and undeniably logical, were almost startling in their\nelemental brevity--as the following: \"Once some masons were pulling\ndown an old house, and in the wall they found many boxes of money.\nAfter that, those masons were rich\"! In justice I should add that this\nsuccinct narrative merely was thrown in, as a make-weight, at the end\nof a long and dramatic hidden-treasure story--in which a kindly old\nghost-lady, the hider of the treasure, had a leading part.\n\nBecause of the intelligent interest that Gilberto took in my\nfolk-lore collecting, it was a source of keen regret to him that our\nmeeting had not come a little earlier, only two years earlier, during\nthe lifetime of his great-aunt: who had known--as he put it\ncomprehensively--all the stories about the city that ever were told. I\ntoo grieved, and I shall grieve always, because that ancient person\nwas cut off from earth before I could have the happiness of garnering\nthe traditionary wisdom with which she was so full charged. But my\ngrief is softened--and even is tinctured with a warm thankfulness--by\nthe fact that a great deal of it was saved to me by my fortunate\nencounter with her grand-nephew: who so faithfully had treasured in\nhis heart her ancient sayings; and who so freely--to the winning of my\nlasting gratitude--gave them to me for the enrichment of my own store.\n\n NEW YORK, _September 26, 1909_.\n\n\n\n\n LEGENDS OF THE CITY OF MEXICO\n\n\n\n\n LEGEND OF DON JUAN MANUEL[1]\n\n\nThis Don Juan Manuel, Se\u00f1or, was a rich and worthy gentleman who had\nthe bad vice of killing people. Every night at eleven o'clock, when\nthe Palace clock was striking, he went out from his magnificent\nhouse--as you know, Se\u00f1or, it still is standing in the street that has\nbeen named after him--all muffled in his cloak, and under it his\ndagger in his hand.\n\nThen he would meet one, in the dark street, and would ask him\npolitely: \"What is the hour of the night?\" And that person, having\nheard the striking of the clock, would answer: \"It is eleven hours of\nthe night.\" And Don Juan Manuel would say to him: \"Se\u00f1or, you are\nfortunate above all men, because you know precisely the hour at which\nyou die!\" Then he would thrust with his dagger--and then, leaving the\ndead gentleman lying in the street, he would come back again into his\nown home. And this bad vice of Don Juan Manuel's of killing people\nwent on, Se\u00f1or, for a great many years.\n\nLiving with Don Juan Manuel was a nephew whom he dearly loved. Every\nnight they supped together. Later, the nephew would go forth to see\none or another of his friends; and, still later, Don Juan Manuel would\ngo forth to kill some man. One night the nephew did not come home. Don\nJuan Manuel was uneasy because of his not coming, fearing for him. In\nthe early morning the city watch knocked at Don Juan Manuel's door,\nbringing there the dead body of the nephew--with a wound in the heart\nof him that had killed him. And when they told where his body had been\nfound, Don Juan Manuel knew that he himself--not knowing him in the\ndarkness--had killed his own nephew whom he so loved.\n\nThen Don Juan Manuel saw that he had been leading a bad life: and he\nwent to the Father to whom he confessed and confessed all the killings\nthat he had done. Then the Father put a penance upon him: That at\nmidnight he should go alone through the streets until he was come to\nthe chapel of the Espiraci\u00f3n (it faces upon the Plazuela de Santo\nDomingo, Se\u00f1or; and, in those days, before it was a gallows); and that\nhe should kneel in front of that chapel, beneath the gallows; and\nthat, so kneeling, he should tell his rosary through. And Don Juan\nManuel was pleased because so light a penance had been put upon him,\nand thought soon to have peace again in his soul.\n\nBut that night, at midnight, when he set forth to do his penance, no\nsooner was he come out from his own door than voices sounded in his\nears, and near him was the terrible ringing of a little bell. And he\nknew that the voices which troubled him were those of the ones whom he\nhad killed. And the voices sounded in his ears so wofully, and the\nringing of the little bell was so terrible, that he could not keep\nonward. Having gone a little way, his stomach was tormented by the\nfear that was upon him and he came back again to his own home.\n\nThen, the next day, he told the Father what had happened, and that he\ncould not do that penance, and asked that another be put upon him. But\nthe Father denied him any other penance; and bade him do that which\nwas set for him--or die in his sin and go forever to hell! Then Don\nJuan Manuel again tried to do his penance, and that time got a half of\nthe way to the chapel of the Espiraci\u00f3n; and then again turned\nbackward to his home, because of those woful voices and the terrible\nringing of that little bell. And so again he asked that he be given\nanother penance; and again it was denied to him; and again--getting\nthat night three-quarters of the way to the chapel--he tried to do\nwhat he was bidden to do. But he could not do it, because of the woful\nvoices and the terrible ringing of the little bell.\n\n[Illustration: CAPILLA DE LA ESPIRACI\u00d3N]\n\nThen went he for the last time to the Father to beg for another\npenance; and for the last time it was denied to him; and for the last\ntime he set forth from his house at midnight to go to the chapel of\nthe Espiraci\u00f3n, and in front of it, kneeling beneath the gallows, to\ntell his rosary through. And that night, Se\u00f1or, was the very worst\nnight of all! The voices were so loud and so very woful that he was in\nweak dread of them, and he shook with fear, and his stomach was\ntormented because of the terrible ringing of the little bell. But he\npressed on--you see, Se\u00f1or, it was the only way to save his soul from\nblistering in hell through all eternity--until he was come to the\nPlazuela de Santo Domingo; and there, in front of the chapel of the\nEspiraci\u00f3n, beneath the gallows, he knelt down upon his knees and told\nhis rosary through.\n\nAnd in the morning, Se\u00f1or, all the city was astonished, and\neverybody--from the Viceroy down to the cargadores--came running to\nthe Plazuela de Santo Domingo, where was a sight to see! And the sight\nwas Don Juan Manuel hanging dead on the gallows--where the angels\nthemselves had hung him, Se\u00f1or, because of his sins!\n\n\n\n\n LEGEND OF THE OBEDIENT DEAD NUN\n\n\nIt was after she was dead, Se\u00f1or, that this nun did what she was told\nto do by the Mother Superior, and that is why it was a miracle. Also,\nit proved her goodness and her holiness--though, to be sure, there was\nno need for her to take the trouble to prove those matters, because\neverybody knew about them before she died.\n\nMy grandmother told me that this wonder happened in the convent of\nSanta Br\u00edgida when her mother was a little girl; therefore you will\nperceive, Se\u00f1or, that it did not occur yesterday. In those times the\nconvent of Santa Br\u00edgida was most flourishing--being big, and full of\nnuns, and with more money than was needed for the keeping of it and\nfor the great giving of charity that there was at its doors. And now,\nas you know, Se\u00f1or, there is no convent at all and only the church\nremains. However, it was in the church that the miracle happened, and\nit is in the choir that Sor Teresa's bones lie buried in the coffin\nthat was too short for her--and so it is clear that this story is\ntrue.\n\nThe way of it all, Se\u00f1or, was this: The Se\u00f1orita Teresa Ysabel de\nVillavicencio--so she was called in the world, and in religion she\nstill kept her christened name--was the daughter of a very rich\nhacendado of Vera Cruz. She was very tall--it was her tallness that\nmade the whole trouble--and she also was very beautiful; and she went\nto Santa Br\u00edgida and took the vows there because of an undeceiving in\nlove. The young gentleman whom she came to know was unworthy of her\nwas the Se\u00f1or Carraza, and he was the Librarian to the Doctors in the\nRoyal and Pontifical University--which should have made him a good\nman. What he did that was not good, Se\u00f1or, I do not know. But it was\nsomething that sent Sor Teresa in a hurry into the convent: and when\nshe got there she was so devout and so well-behaved that the Mother\nSuperior held her up to all the other nuns for a pattern--and\nespecially for her humility and her obedience. Whatever she was told\nto do, she did; and that without one single word.\n\nWell, Se\u00f1or, it happened that the convent was making ready, on a day,\nfor the great festival of Nuestra Se\u00f1ora de Guadalupe; and in the\nmidst of all the whirring and buzzing Sor Teresa said suddenly--and\neverybody was amazed and wonder-struck when she said it--that though\nshe was helping to make ready for that festival she would not live to\ntake part in it, because the very last of her hours on earth was\nalmost come. And a little later--lying on her hard wooden bed and\nwearing beneath her habit the wired shirt of a penitent, with all the\ncommunity sorrowing around her--Sor Teresa died just as she said she\nwould die: without there being anything the matter with her at all!\n\nBecause of the festival that was coming, it was necessary that she\nshould be buried that very night. Therefore they made ready a\ncomfortable grave for her; and they sent to the carpenter for a coffin\nfor her, and the coffin came. And it was then, Se\u00f1or, that the trouble\nbegan. Perhaps, because she was so very tall a lady, the carpenter\nthought that the measure had not been taken properly. Perhaps, being\nall so flurried, they really had got the measure wrong. Anyhow,\nwhatever may have set the matter crooked, Sor Teresa would not go into\nher coffin: and as night was near, and there was no time to make\nanother one, they all of them were at their very wits' end to know\nwhat to do. So there they all stood, looking at Sor Teresa; and there\nSor Teresa lay, with her holy feet sticking straight out far beyond\nthe end of the coffin; and night was coming in a hurry; and next day\nwould be the festival--and nobody could see how the matter was going\nto end!\n\nThen a wise old nun came to the Mother Superior and whispered to her:\ntelling her that as in life Sor Teresa had been above all else perfect\nin obedience, so, probably, would she be perfect in obedience even in\ndeath; and advising that a command should be put upon her to fit into\nher coffin then and there. And the old nun said, what was quite true\nand reasonable, that even if Sor Teresa did not do what she was told\nto do, no harm could come of it--as but little time would be lost in\nmaking trial with her, and the case would be the same after their\nfailure as it was before. Therefore the Mother Superior agreed to try\nwhat that wise old nun advised. And so, Se\u00f1or--all the community\nstanding round about, and the candle of Nuestro Amo being lighted--the\nMother Superior said in a grave voice slowly: \"Daughter, as in life\nthou gavest us always an example of humility and obedience, now I\norder and command thee, by thy vow of obedience, to retire decorously\nwithin thy coffin: that so we may bury thee, and that thou mayest rest\nin peace!\"\n\nAnd then, Se\u00f1or, before the eyes of all of them, Sor Teresa slowly\nbegan to shrink shorter--to the very letter of the Mother Superior's\norder and command! Slowly her holy feet drew in from beyond the end of\nthe coffin; and then they drew to the very edge of it; and then they\ndrew over the edge of it; and then they fell down briskly upon the\nbottom of it with a sanctified and most pious little bang. And so\nthere she was, shrunk just as short as she had been ordered to shrink,\nfitting into her coffin as cozily as you please! Then they buried her,\nas I have told you, Se\u00f1or, in the comfortable grave in the choir that\nwas waiting for her--and there her blessed shrunken bones are lying\nnow.\n\n\n\n\n LEGEND OF THE PUENTE DEL CL\u00c9RIGO\n\n\nThis priest who was murdered and thrown over the bridge, Se\u00f1or, was a\nvery good man, and there was very little excuse for murdering him.\nMoreover, he belonged to a most respectable family, and so did the\ngentleman who murdered him, and so did the young lady; and because of\nall that, and because at the best of times the killing of a priest is\nsacrilege, the scandal of that murder made a stir in the whole town.\n\nAt that time--it was some hundreds of years ago, Se\u00f1or--there lived in\nthe street that now is called, because of it all, the street of the\nPuente del Cl\u00e9rigo, a very beautiful young lady who was named Do\u00f1a\nMargarita J\u00e1uregui. And she, being an orphan, dwelt with her uncle,\nthis priest: who was named Don Juan de Nava and was a person of rank,\nbeing a caballero of the orders of Santiago and Calatrava. In those\ndays there were few houses upon that street, which was the causeway\nbetween the City and the Indian town of Tlaltelolco; and for the\ngreater safety of the Spaniards dwelling in the City there was a wide\nditch, that this bridge crossed, between them and the Indian town.\nLong ago, Se\u00f1or, Tlaltelolco became a part of the City; and the ditch,\nand the bridge over it, are gone.\n\nNow it happened that at the court of the Viceroy was a noble young\nPortuguese gentleman, who had great riches and two titles, named Don\nDuarte de Sarraza; and the Viceroy, who was the Conde de Salvatierra,\nvery much esteemed him because he was of a loyal nature and of good\nheart. Therefore this noble young gentleman fell in love with Do\u00f1a\nMargarita, and she with him; but her uncle, the Padre Don Juan,\nknowing that Don Duarte was a vicious young man--a gambler, and in\nother ways what he should not have been--forbade his niece to have\nanything to do with him. So things rested for a while on those terms,\nand Don Duarte did not like it at all.\n\nWell, it happened on a night, Se\u00f1or, that Don Duarte was at the window\nof Do\u00f1a Margarita, telling his love for her through the grating; and\nwhile he was so engaged he saw Padre Don Juan coming home along the\ncauseway by the light of the stars. Then that wicked young man went to\nwhere the bridge was, and when the Padre was come to the bridge he\nsprang upon him and drove his dagger deep into his skull. The dagger\nwas nailed so fast there, Se\u00f1or, that he could not drag it loose\nagain; and so he bundled the dead priest over the wall of the bridge\nand into the water with the dagger still sticking in the skull of him;\nand then he went his way to his home.\n\nNot wishing to have it thought that he had committed that murder, Don\nDuarte did not go near Do\u00f1a Margarita for almost a whole year. And\nthen--because his love for her would not suffer him to wait away from\nher longer--he went in the night-time to meet her once more at her\nwindow; and he had in his heart the wicked purpose to make her come\nout to him, and then to carry her off.\n\nThat did not happen--and what did happen is a terrible mystery. All\nthat is known about it is this: Very early in the morning the\nneighbors living thereabout found Don Duarte dead on the Bridge of the\nCleric; and holding him fast, a bony knee on his breast and two bony\nhands at his throat strangling him, was a skeleton. And the skeleton,\nSe\u00f1or, was dressed in a black cassock, such as only clerics wear, and\nin the skull of it a rusty dagger was nailed fast. Therefore it became\ngenerally known that Don Duarte had murdered the Padre Don Juan; and\nthat the skeleton of the Padre Don Juan had killed Don Duarte in just\nrevenge.\n\n\n\n\n LEGEND OF THE MULATA DE C\u00d3RDOBA\n\n\nIt is well known, Se\u00f1or, that this Mulata of C\u00f3rdoba, being a very\nbeautiful woman, was in close touch with the devil. She dwelt in\nC\u00f3rdoba--the town not far from Vera Cruz, where coffee and very good\nmangos are grown--and she was born so long ago that the very oldest\nman now living was not then alive. No one knew who was her father, or\nwho was her mother, or where she came from. So she was called La\nMulata de C\u00f3rdoba--and that was all. One of the wonders of her was\nthat the years passed her without marking her, and she never grew old.\n\nShe led a very good life, helping every one who was in trouble, and\ngiving food to the hungry ones; and she dressed in modest clothes\nsimply, and always was most neat and clean. She was a very wicked\nwitch--and beyond that nobody really knew anything about her at all.\nOn the same day, and at the same hour, she would be seen by different\npeople in different places widely apart--as here in the City, and in\nC\u00f3rdoba, and elsewhere variously--all in precisely the same moment of\ntime. She also was seen flying through the air, high above the roofs\nof the houses, with sparks flashing from her black eyes. Moreover,\nevery night the devil visited her: as was known generally, because at\nnight her neighbors observed that through the chinks in the tight-shut\ndoors and windows of her house there shone a bright light--as though\nall the inside of the house were filled with flames. She went to mass\nregularly, and at the proper seasons partook of the Sacrament. She\ndisdained everybody; and because of her disdainings it was believed\nthat the master of her beauty was the Lord of Darkness; and that\nseemed reasonable. Every single one of the young men was mad about\nher, and she had a train of lovers from which she could pick and\nchoose. All wonders were told of her. She was so powerful, and could\nwork such prodigies, that she was spoken about--just as though she had\nbeen the blessed Santa Rita de Cascia--as the Advocate of Impossible\nThings! Old maids went to her who sought for husbands; poor ladies\nwho longed for jewels and fine dresses that they might go to the court\nof the Viceroy; miners that they might find silver; old soldiers, set\naside for rustiness, to get new commands--so that the saying, \"_I_ am\nnot the Mulata of C\u00f3rdoba!\" is the answer when any one asks an\nimpossible favor even now.\n\nHow it came about, Se\u00f1or, no one ever knew. What every one did know\nwas that, on a day, the Mulata was brought from C\u00f3rdoba here to the\nCity and was cast into the prison of the Holy Office. That was a piece\nof news that made a stir! Some said that a disdained lover had\ndenounced her to the Inquisition. Others said that the Holy Office had\nlaid hands on her less because she was a witch than because of her\ngreat riches--and it was told that when she had been seized ten\nbarrels filled with gold-dust had been seized with her. So talk about\nthe matter was on every tongue.\n\nMany years went by, Se\u00f1or, and all of that talk was almost forgotten.\nThen, on a morning, the city was astonished by hearing--no one knew\nfrom where--that at the next auto de f\u00e9 the witch of C\u00f3rdoba would\nwalk with the unredeemed ones, carrying the flameless green candle\nand wearing the high bonnet, and would be burned at the burning-place\nof the Holy Office--it was in front of the church of San Diego, Se\u00f1or,\nat the western end of what now is the Alameda--and so would have\nburned out of her her sins. And before that astonishment was ended,\nthere came another and a greater: when it was told that the witch,\nbefore the very eyes of her jailers, had escaped from the prison of\nthe Inquisition and was gone free! All sorts of stories flew about the\ncity. One said, crossing himself, that her friend the devil had helped\nher to her freedom; another said that Inquisitors also were of flesh\nand blood, and that she had been freed by her own beauty. Men talked\nat random--because, neither then nor later, did anybody know what\nreally had happened. But what really did happen, Se\u00f1or, was this:\n\nOn a day, the chief Inquisitor went into the prison of the Mulata that\nhe might reason her to repentance. And, being come into her prison--it\nwas a long and lofty chamber that they had put her into, Se\u00f1or, not\none of the bad small cells--he stopped short in amazement: beholding\nbefore him, drawn with charcoal on the wall of the chamber, a great\nship that lacked not a single rope nor a single sail nor anything\nwhatever that a ship requires! While he stood gazing at that ship,\nwondering, the Mulata turned to him and looked strangely at him out of\nher wicked black eyes, and said in a tone of railing: \"Holy Father,\nwhat does this ship need to make it perfect?\" And to that he answered:\n\"Unhappy woman! It is thou who needest much to make thee perfect, that\nthou mayest be cleansed of thy sins! As for this ship, it is in all\nother ways so wholly perfect that it needs only to sail.\" Then said\nthe Mulata: \"That it shall do--and very far!\" and there was on her\nface as she spoke to him a most wicked smile. With astonishment he\nlooked at her, and at the ship. \"How can that be possible!\" he asked.\n\"In this manner!\" she answered--and, as she spoke, she leaped lightly\nfrom the floor of the prison to the deck of the ship, up there on the\nwall, and stood with her hand upon the tiller at the ship's stern.\n\nThen happened, Se\u00f1or, a very wonderful marvel! Suddenly the sails of\nthe ship filled and bellied out as though a strong wind were blowing;\nand then, before the eyes of the Inquisitor, the ship went sailing\naway along the wall of the chamber--the Mulata laughing wickedly as\nshe swung the tiller and steered it upon its course! Slowly it went at\nfirst, and then more and more rapidly, until, being come to the wall\nat the end of the chamber, it sailed right on into and through the\nsolid stone and mortar--the Mulata still laughing wickedly as she\nstood there steering at the ship's stern! And then the wall closed\nwhole and solid again behind the ship, and only a little echoing sound\nof that wicked laughter was heard in the chamber--and the ship had\nvanished, and the Mulata was out of her prison and gone!\n\nThe Inquisitor, Se\u00f1or, who had seen this devil's miracle, immediately\nlost all his senses and became a madman and was put into a mad-house:\nwhere, till death gave peace to him, he raved always of a beautiful\nwoman in a great ship that sailed through stone walls and across the\nsolid land. As for the Mulata, nothing more ever was heard of her. But\nit was generally known that her master the devil had claimed her for\nhis own.\n\nThis story is entirely true, Se\u00f1or--as is proved by the fact that the\nInquisition building, in which all these wonders happened, still is\nstanding. It is the Escuela de Medicina, now.\n\n\n\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLEJ\u00d3N DEL MUERTO\n\n\nIt is an unwise thing, Se\u00f1or, and there also is wickedness in it, to\nmake a vow to the Blessed Virgin--or, for that matter, to the smallest\nsaint in the whole calendar--and not to fulfil that vow when the\nBlessed Virgin, or the saint, as the case may be, has performed\npunctually all that the vow was made for: and so this gentleman of\nwhom I now am speaking found out for himself, and most uncomfortably,\nwhen he died with an unfulfilled vow on his shoulders--and had to take\nsome of the time that he otherwise would have spent pleasantly in\nheaven among the angels in order to do after he was dead what he had\npromised to do, and what he most certainly ought to have done, while\nhe still was alive.\n\nThe name of this gentleman who so badly neglected his duty, Se\u00f1or, was\nDon Tristan de Alculer; and he was a humble but honorable Spanish\nmerchant who came from the Filipinas to live here in the City of\nMexico; and he came in the time when the Viceroy was the Marqu\u00e9s de\nVilla Manrique, and most likely as the result of that Viceroy's doings\nand orderings: because the Marqu\u00e9s de Villa Manrique gave great\nattention to enlarging the trade with the East through the\nFilipinas--as was found out by the English corsairs, so that Don\nFrancisco Draco, who was the greatest pirate of all of them, was able\nto capture a galleon laden almost to sinking with nothing but silver\nand gold.\n\nWith Don Tristan, who was of an elderliness, came his son to help him\nin his merchanting; and this son was named Tristan also, and was a\nmost worthy young gentleman, very capable in the management of\nmercantile affairs. Having in their purses but a light lining, their\ncommerce at its beginning was of a smallness; and they took for their\nhome a mean house in a little street so poor and so deserted that\nnobody had taken the trouble to give a name to it: the very street\nthat ever since their time has been called the Alley of the Dead\nMan--because of what happened as the result of Don Tristan's\nunfulfilled vow. That they were most respectable people is made clear\nby the fact that the Archbishop himself--who at that period was the\nillustrious Don Fray Garc\u00eda de Santa Mar\u00eda Mendoza--was the friend of\nthem; and especially the friend of Don Tristan the elder, who\nfrequently consulted with him in regard to the state of his soul.\n\nSo a number of prospering years passed on, Se\u00f1or, and then, on a time,\nDon Tristan the son went down to the coast to make some buyings: and\nit was in the bad season, and the fever seized him so fiercely that\nall in a moment the feet and half the legs of him fairly were inside\nof death's door. Then it was that Don Tristan, being in sore trouble\nbecause of his son's desperate illness, made the vow that I am telling\nyou about. He made it to the Blessed Virgin of Guadalupe; and he vowed\nto her that if she would save his son alive to him from the fever he\nwould walk on his bare feet from his own house to her Sanctuary, and\nthat there in her Sanctuary he would make his thanks to her from the\ndeep depths of his soul. And the Blessed Virgin, being full of love\nand of amiability, was pleased to listen to the prayer of Don Tristan,\nand to believe the vow that went along with it: wherefore she caused\nthe fever immediately to leave the sick Don Tristan--and presently\nhome he came to his father alive and well.\n\nBut Don Tristan, having got from the Blessed Virgin all that he had\nasked of her, did not give to her what he had promised to give to her\nin return. Being by that time an aged gentleman, and also being much\nafflicted with rheumatism, the thought of taking a walk of near to\nthree miles barefoot was most distasteful to him. And so he put his\nwalk off for a week or two--saying to himself that the Blessed Virgin\nwould not be in any hurry about the matter; and then he put it off for\nanother week or two; and in that way--because each time that he was\nfor keeping his vow shivers would come in his old feet at dread of\nbeing bare and having cold earth under them, and trembles would come\nin his old thin legs at dread of more rheumatism--the time slipped on\nand on, and the Blessed Virgin did not get her due.\n\nBut his soul was not easy inside of him, Se\u00f1or--and it could not be,\nbecause he was playing fast and loose with it--and so he laid the\nwhole matter before his friend the Archbishop: hoping that for\nfriendship's sake the Archbishop would be so obliging as to dispense\nhim from his vow. For myself, Se\u00f1or, I cannot but think that the\nArchbishop--for all that his position put him in close touch with\nheavenly matters, and gave him the right to deal with them--was not\nwell advised in his action. At any rate, what he did was to\ntranquillize Don Tristan by telling him that the Blessed Virgin was\ntoo considerate to hold him to a contract that certainly would lay him\nup with a bad attack of rheumatism; and that even--so wearied out\nwould he be by forcing his old thin legs to carry him all that\ndistance--might be the death of him. And so the upshot of it was that\nthe Archbishop, being an easy-going and a very good-natured gentleman,\ndispensed Don Tristan from his vow.\n\nBut a vow, Se\u00f1or, is a vow--and even an Archbishop cannot cast one\nloose from it; and so they all found out on this occasion, and in a\nhurry--because the Blessed Virgin, while never huffed over trifles,\ndoes not let the grass grow under her feet when her anger justly is\naroused.\n\nOnly three days after Don Tristan had received his dispensation--to\nwhich, as the event proved, he was not entitled--the Archbishop went\non the twelfth of the month, in accordance with the custom observed in\nthat matter, to celebrate mass at the Villa de Guadalupe in Our Lady's\nSanctuary. The mass being ended, he came homeward on his mule by the\ncauseway to the City; and as he rode along easily he was put into a\ngreat surprise by seeing Don Tristan walking toward him, and by\nperceiving that he was of a most dismal dead paleness and that his\nfeet were bare. For a moment Don Tristan paused beside the\nArchbishop--whose mule had stopped short, all in a tremble--and\nclasped his hand with a hand that was of an icy coldness; then he\npassed onward--saying in a dismal voice, rusty and cavernous, that for\nhis soul's saving he was fulfilling the vow that he had made to her\nLadyship: because the knowledge had come to him that if this vow were\nnot accomplished he certainly would spend the whole of Eternity\nblistering in hell! Having thus explained matters, not a word more did\nDon Tristan have to say for himself; nor did he even look backward, as\nhe walked away slowly and painfully on his bare old feet toward Our\nLady's shrine.\n\nThe Archbishop trembled as much as his mule did, Se\u00f1or, being sure\nthat strange and terrible things were about him; and when the mule a\nlittle came out of her fright and could march again, but still\ntrembling, he went straight to Don Tristan's house to find out--though\nin his heart he knew what his finding would be--the full meaning of\nthis awesome prodigy. And he found at Don Tristan's house what he knew\nin his heart he would find there: and that was Don Tristan, the four\nlighted death-candles around him, lying on his bed death-struck--his\ndeath-white cold hands clasped on his breast on the black pall\ncovering him, and on his death-white face the very look that was on it\nas he went to the keeping of his unkept vow! Therefore the Archbishop\nwas seized with a hot and a cold shuddering, and his teeth rattled in\nthe head of him; and straightway he and all who were with\nhim--perceiving that they were in the presence of a divine\nmystery--fell to their knees in wondering awe of what had happened,\nand together prayed for the peace of Don Tristan's soul.\n\nVery possibly, Se\u00f1or, the Archbishop and the rest of them did not pray\nhard enough; or, perhaps, Don Tristan's sin of neglect was so serious\na matter that a long spell in Purgatory was required of him before he\ncould be suffered to pass on to a more comfortable region and be at\nease. At any rate, almost immediately he took to walking at midnight\nin the little street that for so long he had lived in--always wrapped\nin a long white shroud that fluttered about him in the night wind\nloosely, and carrying always a yellow-blazing great candle; and so\nbeing a most terrifying personage to encounter as he marched slowly up\nand down. Therefore everybody who dwelt in that street hurried to move\naway from it, and Don Tristan had it quite to himself in its\ndesertedness--for which reason, as I have mentioned, the Alley of the\nDead Man became its name.\n\nI have been told by my friend the cargador, Se\u00f1or, and also by several\nother trustworthy persons, that Don Tristan--though more than three\nhundred years have passed since the death of him--has not entirely\ngiven up his marchings. Certainly, for myself, I do not think that it\nwould be judicious to walk in the Callej\u00f3n del Muerto at midnight even\nnow.\n\n\n\n\n LEGEND OF THE ALTAR DEL PERDON[2]\n\n\nThis painter, Se\u00f1or, who by a miracle painted the most beautiful\npicture of Our Lady of Mercy that is to be found in the whole\nworld--the very picture that ever since has adorned the Altar del\nPerdon in the Cathedral--in the beginning of him was a very bad\nsinner: being a Fleming, and a Jew, and many other things that he\nought not to have been, and therefore straight in the way to pass the\nwhole of Eternity--his wickednesses being so numerous that time would\nhave been wasted in trying to purge him of them in Purgatory--in the\nhottest torments that the devil his master could contrive. He was a\nvery agreeable young gentleman, of a cheerful and obliging nature, and\nboth witty and interesting in his talkings--for which reason the\nViceroy had a great liking for his company and had him often at the\nPalace to the banquets and the festivals of the court. His name,\nSe\u00f1or, was Don Simon Peyrens; and the Viceroy his patron--in whose\nsuite he had come from Spain expressly to beautify the Palace with his\npaintings--was Don Gast\u00f3n de Peralta, Marqu\u00e9s de Falces: who was the\nthird Viceroy of the Province, being the successor to the good Don\nLuis de Velasco when that most worthy gentleman ceased to be a Viceroy\nand became an angel in the year 1564.\n\nWell, Se\u00f1or, it happened some years later--in the time of Don Mart\u00edn\nEnriquez de Almanza, the fourth Viceroy, with whom Peyrens remained in\nfavor--that the Chapter of the Cathedral, desiring to make splendid\nthe Altar del Perdon, offered in competition to all the painters of\nMexico a prize for the most beautiful picture of Our Lady of Mercy:\nwhich picture was to be placed in the centre of that altar and to be\nthe chief glory of it. And, thereupon, all the painters of Mexico,\nsave only Peyrens, entered into that competition with a reverent and\nan eager joy. And then it was, Se\u00f1or, that Peyrens made plain the\nwickedness that was in him by his irreverent blasphemies. At a banquet\nat the Palace a very noble gentleman asked him why he alone of all\nthe painters of Mexico--and he the best of all of them--had not\nentered into the competition; to which that sinful young man answered\nwith a disdainful and impious lightness that the painting of what were\ncalled sacred pictures was but foolishness and vanity, and that he for\nhis part could not be tempted to paint one by all the gold in the\nworld!\n\nTalk of that sort, Se\u00f1or, as you well may imagine, scalded the ears of\nall who heard it--and in the quarter where the punishment of such\nsinning was attended to it made an instant stir. In a moment\ninformation of that evil young man's utterances was carried to the\nArchbishop--who at that time was the venerable Fray Alonzo de\nMont\u00fafar--and in another moment he found himself lodged behind iron\nbars in a cell in the Inquisition: that blessed constrainer to\nrighteousness, for the comforting of the faithful, that then was\nproving its usefulness by mowing down the weeds of heresy with a very\nlively zeal.\n\nBeing of an incredible hard-heartedness, neither the threats nor the\npleadings of the Familiars of the Holy Office could stir Peyrens from\nthe stand that he had taken. Resolutely he refused to recant his\nblasphemies; equally resolutely he refused to accept his freedom on\nthe condition that he should paint the picture of Our Lady--and he\neven went so far, when they brought him the materials for the making\nof that picture, as to tear the canvas to shreds and rags!\n\nAnd so the days ran on into weeks, and the weeks into months, and\nnothing changed in that bad matter: save that the Archbishop, saintly\nman that he was, began to lose his temper; and that the Familiars of\nthe Holy Office lost their tempers entirely--and were for settling\naccounts with Peyrens by burning his wickedness out of him with\nheavenly fire.\n\nAs it happened, Se\u00f1or, a great opportunity for such wholesome\npurifying of him was imminent: because at that time the preparations\nwere being made for the very first auto de f\u00e9 that ever was celebrated\nin Mexico, and all the City was on tiptoe of joyful expectation of it.\nTherefore everybody was looking forward with a most pleased interest\nto seeing that criminally stiff-necked painter--properly clad in a\nyellow coat with a red cross on the back and on the front of\nit--walking with the condemned ones; and then, on the brasero that had\nbeen set up in the market-place, to seeing him and his sins together\nburned to ashes; and then to seeing those sin-tainted ashes carried to\nthe outskirts of the City and scattered pollutingly on the muddy\nmarsh.\n\nHowever, Se\u00f1or, none of those interesting and edifying things\nhappened: because Our Lady of Mercy--and it was just like the\ngood-nature of her to do so--took a hand in the affair, and by the\nworking of a loving miracle made everything come out smoothly and\nwell.\n\nOn a night, as he lay sleeping on his pallet in his cell in the\nInquisition, Peyrens was awakened suddenly he knew not how; and as he\nwakened he found in his nose a smell so delectable that he thought\nthat he still was asleep and his nose dreaming it: and for him to have\nthat thought was quite reasonable, Se\u00f1or, because it was the pure\nfragrance of heaven--to which, of course, human noses are\nunaccustomed--that filled the room. Then, as he lay on his pallet\nwondering, a shimmering light began to glow softly in the darkness;\nand the light constantly grew stronger and stronger until it became a\nglorious radiance far brighter than any sunlight; and then in the\nmidst of that resplendency--yet the heavenly sparkle of her making the\ndazzle of it seem like darkness--Our Lady of Mercy herself appeared to\nhim: and he would have died of the glory of her, had it not been for\nthe loving kindness that shone upon him assuringly and comfortingly\nfrom her gentle eyes.\n\nThen said to him Our Lady, in a voice sweeter than any earthly music:\n\"Little son, why dost thou not love me?\" And Peyrens--his hard heart\nmelted by that gentle look and by that sweet voice, and all of his\nwickedness cured by that loving kindness--rose from his pallet and\nknelt before Our Lady, saying with a deep earnestness: \"Queen of\nHeaven, I reverence and I love thee with all the heart of me and with\nall my soul!\" Then, for a time, a serene strange happiness bemazed him\ndream-fully--and when his bemazement left him the resplendent presence\nwas gone. But with him still remained the heavenly radiance that was\nbrighter than any sunlight, and the heavenly perfume that was sweeter\nthan spikenard and lilies; and while he pondered all these mysteries,\nawe-bound and wondering, again sounded in his ears that heaven-sweet\nvoice--coming as from a great distance, but with a bell-note\nclearness--saying to him gently and lovingly: \"Paint now thy picture\nof me, little son!\"\n\nQuite possibly, Se\u00f1or, in the hurry of the moment, Our Lady forgot\nthat Peyrens had no canvas--because in his sinful anger he had\ndestroyed it--on which to paint the picture that she commanded of him;\nbut, for myself, I think that she meant to set his wits to work to\nfind the means by which he could obey her command. At any rate, his\nwits did work so well that even as she spoke he saw his way out of his\ndifficulty; and in an instant--all a-thrill with joyful eagerness to\ndo Our Lady's bidding, and inspired by the splendor of his vision of\nher--he set himself to painting the portrait of her, just as his own\neyes had seen her in her glory, on the oaken door of his cell.\n\nAll the night long, Se\u00f1or--working by the heaven-light that was\nbrighter than any sunlight, and having in his happy nose the heaven\nfragrance that uplifted his soul with the sweetness of it--he painted\nas one who painted in a heaven-sent dream. And when the morning came,\nand the glimmering daylight took dimly the place of the heaven-light,\nhe had finished there on the door of his cell the most beautiful\npicture of Our Lady--as I said in the beginning--that ever has been\npainted in this mortal world: and so it had to be--because, you see,\nit is the only picture of her that ever has been painted of her by one\nwho has beheld her with mortal eyes!\n\nAs usually is the case with miracles, Se\u00f1or, the outcome of this one\nwas most satisfactory. The Archbishop and the Chapter of the\nCathedral, being brought in haste, instantly felt themselves compelled\nto adore that miraculous image; and when they had finished adoring it\nthey equally felt themselves compelled to declare that Peyrens by his\nmaking of it had earned both his freedom and the prize. Therefore\nPeyrens was set at liberty and most richly rewarded; and the pictured\ndoor was taken from its hinges and, being framed in a great frame of\nsilver, was set upon the Altar del Perdon to be the chief glory of it;\nand what was best of all--because it made safe the soul of him for all\nEternity--the Archbishop formally confirmed to Peyrens his\nabsolution, through Our Lady's loving kindness, from his bad heresy\nand from all his other sins.\n\nWhat became of this Peyrens later, Se\u00f1or, I have not heard mentioned;\nbut in regard to the accuracy of all that I have told you about him\nthere can be no question: because the miracle-picture that he painted\nstill adorns the Altar del Perdon, and is the chief glory of it--and\nthere you may see it this very day.\n\n\n\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLEJ\u00d3N DEL ARMADO\n\n\nThis Alleyway of the Armed One, Se\u00f1or, got its name because long\nago--before it had any name at all--there lived in it an old man who\nwent always clad in armor, wearing also his sword and his dagger at\nhis side; and all that was known about him was that his name was Don\nLope de Armijo y Lara, and that--for all that he lived so meanly in so\nmean a street in so mean a quarter of the City--he was a rich\nmerchant, and that he came from Spain.\n\nInto his poor little house no one ever got so much as the tip of his\nnose, and he lived alone there in great mystery. In spite of his\nriches, he had not even one servant; and he himself bought his own\nvictuals and cooked them with his own hands. Always he was seen armed\nto the teeth [_armado hasta los dientes_] when he went abroad. Under\nhis mean robe was a full suit of armor, and in his belt was a long\ndagger and a broad and very long sword; also, when at night he went\nout on strange errands, he carried a great pike. Therefore, presently,\npeople spoke of him not as Don Lope but as El Armado--and so he was\ncalled.\n\nThat he was a wicked person was known generally. He was very\ncharitable to the poor. Every morning he went to pray in the church of\nSan Francisco; and he remained praying there for hours at a time,\nkneeling upon his knees. Also, at the proper seasons, he partook of\nthe Sacrament. Some said that through the shut windows of his house,\nin the night-time, they had heard the sound of his scourgings as he\nmade penance for his sins.\n\n[Illustration: EL CALLEJ\u00d3N DEL ARMADO]\n\nIn the darkness of the darkest of nights--when there was no moon, and\nespecially when a dismal drizzling rain was falling--he would be seen\nto come out from his house in all his armor and go stealing away in\nthe direction of the Plazuela de Mixcalco. He would disappear into the\nshadows, and not come back again until midnight had passed. Then he\nwould be heard, in his shut house, counting his money. For a long\nwhile that would go on--counting, counting, counting--there was no\nend to the clinking of silver coin. Then, when all his money was\ncounted, would be heard the sound of scourging, together with most\nlamentable and complaining groanings. And, at the end of all, would\ncome a heavy clanking--as of a great iron cover falling heavily upon a\nchest of iron. After that there would be no sign of life about the\nhouse until the morning--when the Armed One would come forth from it\nand go to San Francisco to pray.\n\nThe life of that man was a bad mystery, Se\u00f1or, that many wished to\nuncover by denouncing him to justice; but the uncovering came of its\nown accord, and was a greater mystery still! On a morning, all the\nneighbors saw the Armed One hanging dead--hanging dead from his own\nbalcony by a cord! No one knew what to think; but most thought that he\nhad hung himself there in fear that denouncement of his crimes would\nbe made and that justice would have its hold upon him. When the\nAlcalde came, and made search in his house, a very great sum of money\nwas found; and, also, were found many skulls of men who certainly\nmust have perished at his hands.\n\nIt is a most curious matter, Se\u00f1or. I cannot see my way through it.\nBut the house is gone.\n\n\n\n\n LEGEND OF THE ADUANA DE SANTO DOMINGO[3]\n\n\nThis gentleman who for love's sake, Se\u00f1or, conquered his coldness and\nhis laziness and became all fire and energy, was named Don Juan\nGuti\u00e9rrez Rub\u00edn de Celis. He was a caballero of the Order of\nSantiago--some say that he wore also the habit of Calatrava--and the\ncolonel of the regiment of the Tres Villas. He was of a lovable\nnature, and ostentatious and arrogant, and in all his ways dilatory\nand apathetic to the very last degree. So great were his riches that\nnot even he himself knew the sum of them: as you will understand when\nI tell you that on an occasion of state--it was the entry into the\nCity in the year 1716 of the new Viceroy, the Marqu\u00e9s de\nValero--pearls to the value of thirty thousand pesos were used in the\nmere trimming of his casac\u00f3n.\n\nBeing of an age to take part so nobly in that noble ceremony, he must\nhave been a gentleman well turned of forty, Se\u00f1or, when the matters\nwhereof I now am telling you occurred: of which the beginning--and\nalso the middle and the ending, because everything hinged upon it--was\nhis falling most furiously in love with a very beautiful young lady;\nand his falling in love in that furious fashion was the very first\nsign of energy that in all his lifetime, until that moment, he had\nshown. The name of this beautiful young lady with whom he fell in love\nso furiously was Do\u00f1a Sara de Garc\u00eda Somera y Acu\u00f1a; and she was less\nthan half as old as he was, but possessed of a very sensible nature\nthat made her do more thinking than is done usually by young ladies;\nand she was of a noble house, and a blood relative of the Viceroy's:\nfor which reason the Viceroy--who by that time was Don Juan de Acu\u00f1a,\nMarqu\u00e9s de Casafuerte--was much interested in the whole affair.\n\nThe love-making of this so notoriously lazy gentleman did not at all\ngo upon wheels, Se\u00f1or: because Do\u00f1a Sara set herself--as was her habit\nwhen dealing with any matter of importance--to thinking about it very\nseriously; and the more that she thought about it the more she made\nher mind up that so dull and so apathetic a gentleman--who, moreover,\nwas old enough to be her father--would not in the least be the sort of\nhusband that she desired. But also, because of her good sense, she\nperceived that much was to be said in favor of entering into wedlock\nwith him: because his rank and his great wealth made him one of the\nmost important personages in the Vice-Kingdom; and, moreover, for all\nthat he was old enough to be her father, he still was a very\npersonable man. And so she thought very hard in both directions, and\ncould not in either direction make up her mind.\n\nWhile matters were in this condition, Se\u00f1or--Don Juan furiously in\nlove with Do\u00f1a Sara, and Do\u00f1a Sara thinking in that sensible way of\nhers about being temperately in love with Don Juan--something happened\nthat gave a new turn to the whole affair. This thing that happened was\nthat the Viceroy--who was a great friend of Don Juan's; and who, as I\nhave mentioned, was a kinsman of Do\u00f1a Sara's, and much interested in\nall that was going forward--appointed Don Juan to be Prior of the\nConsulado; that is to say, President of the Tribunal of Commerce:\nwhich was a most honorable office, in keeping with his rank and his\nriches; and which also was an office--because all the work of it could\nbe done by deputy, or even left undone--that fitted in with Don Juan's\nlazy apathy to a hair.\n\nNow at that time, Se\u00f1or, the building of the Aduana de Santo Domingo\nwas in progress--it ceased to be a custom-house many years ago, Se\u00f1or;\nit is occupied by the Secretar\u00eda de Comunicaciones now--and it had\nbeen in progress, with no great result from the work that laggingly\nwas done on it, for a number of years. The charge of the making of\nthis edifice rested with the Consulado; and, naturally, the new Prior\nof the Consulado was even more content than had been his predecessors\nin that office to let the making of it lag on.\n\nThen it was, Se\u00f1or, that there came into the sensible mind of Do\u00f1a\nSara a notable project for proving whether Don Juan's lazy apathy went\nto the very roots of him; or whether, at the very roots of him--over\nand above the energy that he had shown in his furious love for\nher--he had energy that she could arouse and could set a-going in\npractically useful ways. And her reasoning was this wise: that if Don\nJuan could be stirred by her urgence to do useful work with vigor,\nthen was it likely that her urgence would arouse him from all his\napathies--and so would recast him into the sort of husband that she\ndesired to have. Therefore Do\u00f1a Sara told Don Juan that she would\nmarry him only on one condition; and that her condition was that he\nshould finish completely the long-drawn-out building of the Aduana\nwithin six months from that very day! And Don Juan, Se\u00f1or, was so\nfuriously in love with Do\u00f1a Sara that in the same instant that she\ngave him her condition he accepted it; and he--who never had done a\nhand's turn of work in all his lifetime--promised her that he would do\nthe almost impossible piece of work that she had set him to do: and\nthat the Aduana should be finished completely within six months from\nthat very day!\n\nAnd then all the City was amazed--and so, for that matter, Don Juan\nhimself was--by the fire and the force and the breathless eagerness\nwith which he set himself to the task that Do\u00f1a Sara had put upon\nhim. In a single moment he had gone to every one of all the architects\nin the City urging them to take in charge for him that almost\nimpossible piece of building; and in the very next moment--every one\nof all the architects in the City having made answer to him that what\nhe wanted of them could not even by a miracle be accomplished--he\nhimself took charge of it: and with a furiousness that matched\nprecisely--as Do\u00f1a Sara perceived with hopeful satisfaction--with the\nfuriousness of his love.\n\nWhat Don Juan did in that matter, Se\u00f1or, was done as though in the\ninsides of him were tempests and volcanoes! From the Tierra Caliente\nhe brought up as by magic myriads of negro workmen to do the digging\nand the heavy carrying; all the quarries around the City he crammed\nfull of stone-cutters; every mason was set to work at wall-laying;\nevery carpenter to making the doors and the windows; every brick-yard\nto making the tiles for the roof and the floors; every blacksmith to\nmaking the locks and the hinges and the window-gratings and the\nbalcony rails. And in the midst of his swarms of laborers Don Juan\nhimself worked harder than all of them put together; and was\neverywhere at once among them urging them to hurry and to hurry; and\nto any one of them who showed even the slightest sign of lagging there\ncame from Don Juan's mouth a berating volleying of scorpions and\nsnakes and toads!\n\nIn very truth, Se\u00f1or, such was Don Juan's raging energy that he was as\na frenzied person. But it was a frenzy that had no real madness in it:\nbecause everything that he did and that he made to be done was\ndirected by a most sensible discretion--so that not a moment of time\nnor the turn of a hand was wasted, and in every single instant the\nbuilding grew and grew. And the upshot of it all was that he\naccomplished just what he had made his whole soul up he would\naccomplish: within the six months that Do\u00f1a Sara had given him to do\nhis work in, he did do it--and even with a little time to spare. Three\nfull days before the last of his six months was ended the Aduana was\nfinished to the very least part of its smallest detail; and Don\nJuan--all aglow over his triumphant fulfilment of Do\u00f1a Sara's almost\nimpossible condition--carried the key of that perfectly completed vast\nstructure to the Palace, and there placed the key of it in the\nViceroy's hands!\n\nMoreover--that all the world might know why it was, and for whom it\nwas, that his great work had been accomplished--Don Juan caused to be\ncarved on a wall of the building a most artfully contrived\ninscription: that seemed only to give soberly his own name, and the\nnames of the Consules associated with him, and the date of the\nAduana's completion; but that was so arranged that the first letters\nof the five lines of it together made the initials of Do\u00f1a Sara's\nname.\n\nDon Juan thus having done what Do\u00f1a Sara had set him to do, and what\nevery one of all the architects in the City had declared could not be\ndone even by a miracle, it was evident to the whole world that at the\nvery roots of him was more blazing energy than would suffice for the\nequipment of a half hundred of ordinary men. Wherefore Do\u00f1a Sara was\nwell satisfied--her urgence having stirred him to do that great useful\nwork with such masterful vigor--that her urgence equally would arouse\nhim from all of his apathies: and so would recast him into the sort of\nhusband that she desired to have. Therefore Do\u00f1a Sara immediately\ngave to Don Juan her hand in marriage: and as the Aduana still is\nstanding--and precisely where, faster than a miracle, Don Juan built\nit--the Se\u00f1or has only to look at it, and to read the inscription\nshowing Do\u00f1a Sara's initials, to know both the truth of this curious\nstory and that Do\u00f1a Sara's choice of a husband was well made.\n\n\n\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLE DE LA QUEMADA\n\n\nNot knowing what they are talking about, Se\u00f1or, many people will tell\nyou that the Street of the Burned Woman got its name because--in the\ntimes when the Holy Office was helping the goodness of good people by\nmaking things very bad for the bad ones--a woman heretic most properly\nand satisfactorily was burned there. Such is not in the least the\ncase. The Quemadero of the Inquisition--where such sinners were\nburned, that their sins might be burned out of them--was nowhere near\nthe Calle de la Quemada: being at the western end of what now is the\nAlameda, in quite a different part of the town. Therefore it is a\nmistake to mix these matters: and the real truth is that this\nbeautiful young lady did herself destroy her own beauty by setting\nfire to it; and she did it because she wanted to do it--that in that\nway she might settle some doubts which were in her heart. It all\nhappened in the time of the good Viceroy Don Luis de Velasco: and so\nyou will perceive, Se\u00f1or, that this story is more than three hundred\nyears old.\n\nThe name of this beautiful young lady who went to such lengths for her\nheart's assuring was Do\u00f1a Beatrice de Espinosa; and the name of her\nfather was Don Gonzalo de Espinosa y Guevra--who was a Spanish rich\nmerchant who came to make himself still richer by his buyings and his\nsellings in New Spain. Being arrived here, he took up his abode in a\nfine dwelling in the quarter of San Pablo, in the very street that now\nis called the Street of the Burned Woman because of what presently\nhappened there; and if that street was called by some other name\nbefore that cruel happening I do not know what it was.\n\nDo\u00f1a Beatrice was as beautiful, Se\u00f1or, as the full moon and the best\nof the stars put together; and she was more virtuous than she was\nbeautiful; and she was just twenty years old. Therefore all the young\ngentlemen of the City immediately fell in love with her; and great\nnumbers of the richest and the noblest of them--their parents, or\nother suitable persons, making the request for them--asked her\nfather's permission to wed her: so that Do\u00f1a Beatrice might have had\nany one of twenty good husbands, had any one of them been to her mind.\nHowever--being a lady very particular in the matter of husbands--not\none of them was to her liking: wherefore her father did as she wanted\nhim to do and refused them all.\n\nBut, on a day, matters went differently. At a great ball given by the\nViceroy in the Palace Do\u00f1a Beatrice found what her heart had been\nwaiting for: and this was a noble Italian young gentleman who\ninstantly--as all the others had done--fell in love with her; and with\nwhom--as she never before had done with anybody--she instantly fell in\nlove. The name of this young gentleman was Don Mart\u00edn Scipoli; and he\nwas the Marqu\u00e9s de Pinamonte y Frantescello; and he was as handsome as\nhe was lovable, and of a most jealous nature, and as quarrelsome as it\nwas possible for anybody to be. Therefore, as I have said, Se\u00f1or, Do\u00f1a\nBeatrice at once fell in love with him with all the heart of her; and\nDon Mart\u00edn at once fell in love with her also: and so violently that\nhis jealousy of all her other lovers set off his quarrelsomeness at\nsuch a rate that he did nothing--in his spare time, when he was not\nmaking love to Do\u00f1a Beatrice--but affront and anger them, so that he\nmight have the pleasure of finding them at the point of his sword.\n\nNow Do\u00f1a Beatrice, Se\u00f1or, was a young lady of a most delicate nature,\nand her notions about love were precisely the same as those which are\nentertained by the lady angels. Therefore Don Mart\u00edn's continual\nfightings very much worried her: raising in her heart the dread that\nso violent a person must be of a coarse and carnal nature; and that,\nbeing of such a nature, his love for her came only from his\nbeblindment by the outside beauty of her, and was not--as her own love\nwas--the pure love of soul for soul. Moreover, she was pained by his\nbeing led on by his jealousy--for which there was no just occasion--to\ninjure seriously, and even mortally, so many worthy young men.\n\nTherefore Do\u00f1a Beatrice--after much thinking and a great deal of\npraying over the matter--made her mind up to destroy her own beauty:\nthat in that way she might put all jealousies out of the question;\nand at the same time prove to her heart's satisfying that Don Mart\u00edn's\nlove for her had nothing to do with the outside beauty of her and\ntruly was the pure love of soul for soul.\n\nAnd Do\u00f1a Beatrice, Se\u00f1or, did do that very thing. Her father being\ngone abroad from his home, and all of the servants of the house being\non one excuse or another sent out of it, she brought into her own\nchamber a brazier filled with burning coals; and this she set beneath\nan image of the blessed Santa Luc\u00eda that she had hung upon the wall to\ngive strength to her in case, in doing herself so cruel an injury, her\nown strength should fail. Santa Luc\u00eda, as you will remember, Se\u00f1or,\nwith her own hands plucked out her own wonderfully beautiful eyes and\nsent them on a platter to the young gentleman who had troubled her\ndevotions by telling her that he could not live without them; and with\nthem sent the message that, since she had given him the eyes that he\ncould not live without, he please would let her and her devotions\nalone. Therefore it was clear that Santa Luc\u00eda was the saint best\nfitted to oversee the matter that Do\u00f1a Beatrice had in hand.\n\nBut in regard to her eyes Do\u00f1a Beatrice did not precisely pattern\nherself upon Santa Luc\u00eda: knowing that without them she could not see\nhow Don Mart\u00edn stood the test that she meant to put him to; and, also,\nvery likely remembering that Santa Luc\u00eda miraculously got her eyes\nback again, and got them back even more beautiful than when she lost\nthem: because, you see, they came back filled with the light of\nheaven--where the angels had been taking care of them until they\nshould be returned. Therefore Do\u00f1a Beatrice bound a wet handkerchief\nover her eyes--that she might keep the sight in them to see how Don\nMart\u00edn stood his testing; and, also, that she might spare the angels\nthe inconvenience of caring for them--and then she fanned and fanned\nthe fire in the brazier until the purring of it made her know that the\ncoals were in a fierce blaze. And then, Se\u00f1or, she plunged her\nbeautiful face down into the very heart of the glowing coals! And it\nwas at that same instant--though Do\u00f1a Beatrice, of course, did not\nknow about that part of the matter--that the Street of the Burned\nWoman got its name.\n\nBeing managed under the guidance and with the approval of Santa Luc\u00eda,\nthe cruelty that this virtuous young lady put upon her own beauty\ncould lead only to a good end. Presently, when the bitter pain of her\nburning had passed a little, Do\u00f1a Beatrice bade Don Mart\u00edn come to\nher; and he, coming, found her clad in virgin white and wearing over\nher poor burned face a white veil. And then the test that Do\u00f1a\nBeatrice had planned for her heart's assuring was made.\n\nLittle by little, Do\u00f1a Beatrice raised her white veil slowly; and,\nlittle by little, Don Mart\u00edn saw the face of her: and the face of her\nwas more shudderingly hideous--her two beautiful eyes perfectly alight\nand alive amid that distorted deathliness was what made the shudder of\nit--than anything that ever he had dreamed of in his very worst dream!\nTherefore, with a great joy and thankfulness, Don Mart\u00edn immediately\nespoused Do\u00f1a Beatrice: and thence-forward and always--most reasonably\nceasing to love the outside beauty of her--gave her, as she wanted him\nto give her, the pure love of soul for soul.\n\nFor myself, Se\u00f1or, I think that the conduct of that young lady was\nunreasonable, and that Don Mart\u00edn had just occasion to be annoyed.\n\n\n\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLE DE LA CRUZ VERDE[4]\n\n\nThis story is not a sad one, Se\u00f1or, like the others. It is a joyful\nstory of a gentleman and a lady who loved each other, and were\nmarried, and lived in happiness together until they died. And it was\nbecause of his happiness that the gentleman caused to be carved on the\ncorner of his house, below the balcony on which he saw that day the\nsign which gave hope to him, this great green cross of stone that is\nthere still.\n\nThe house with the green cross on it, Se\u00f1or, stands at the corner of\nthe Calle de la Cruz Verde--the street, you see, was named for it--and\nthe Calle de Migueles. It was a fine house in the days when Do\u00f1a\nMar\u00eda's father built it. Now it is old and shabby, and the saint that\nonce stood in the niche above the cross is gone. But there is an\nexcellent pulquer\u00eda there, Se\u00f1or--it is called La Heroina--where\npulque of the best and the freshest is to be had every morning of\nevery day the whole year round.\n\nI do not know, Se\u00f1or, when this matter happened; but I have heard it\ntold that this gentleman, who was named Don Alvaro de Villadiego y\nManrique, came to Mexico in the train of the Viceroy Don Gast\u00f3n de\nPeralta--so it must have happened a very long while ago.\n\nThis Don Alvaro was a very handsome gentleman--tall, and slender, and\nfair; and he wore clothes of white velvet worked with gold, and a blue\ncap with a white feather; and he rode always a very beautiful Arabian\nhorse. His hair and his little pointed beard were a golden brown,\nSe\u00f1or; and he was a sight to behold!\n\n[Illustration: LA CRUZ VERDE]\n\nIt happened, on a day, that he was taking the air on his Arabian; and\nhe was wearing--because a festival of some sort was in progress--all\nof his fine clothes. So he came prancing down the Calle de Migueles,\nand in the balcony of that corner house--the house on which the green\ncross now is--he saw a very beautiful young lady, who was most genteel\nin her appearance and as white as snow. He fell in love with her on\nthat very instant; and she--although because of her virtue and good\ntraining she did not show it--on that very instant fell in love with\nhim. Then he made inquiry and found that her name was Do\u00f1a Mar\u00eda de\nAldarafuente y Segura. Therefore he resolved to marry her. And so,\nevery day he rode past her balcony and looked up at her with eyes full\nof love. As for Do\u00f1a Mar\u00eda, she was so well brought up, and her\nparents watched her so narrowly, that it was a long while before she\nmade any answering sign. And for that reason, Se\u00f1or, she loved him all\nthe more tenderly in her heart.\n\nThen it happened, at the end of a long while, that Do\u00f1a Mar\u00eda's mother\nfell ill; and so, the watch upon her being less close, Don Alvaro was\nable to get to her hands a letter in which he begged that she would\ngive to him her love. And he told her in his letter that--if she could\nnot answer it with another letter--she should give him one of two\nsigns by which he would know her will. If she did not love him, she\nwas to hang upon the railing of her balcony a cross of dry\npalm-leaves--and when he saw that dry cross he would most certainly,\nhe told her, that day die. But if she did love him, she was to hang a\ncross of green palm-leaves upon the railing of her balcony--and when\nhe saw that green cross he would know, he told her, that she had given\nhim her true promise of heaven-perfect happiness for all his life\nlong.\n\nBeing a lady, Se\u00f1or, Do\u00f1a Mar\u00eda let some days go by before she hung on\nthe railing of her balcony any cross at all--and during those days Don\nAlvaro was within no more than a hair's breadth of going mad. And\nthen--when madness was so close to him that with one single moment\nmore of waiting his wits would have left him--on a day of days, when\nthe spring-time sun was shining and all the birds were singing\nlove-songs together, Don Alvaro saw hanging on the railing of Do\u00f1a\nMar\u00eda's balcony a beautiful bright green cross!\n\nOf course, after that, Se\u00f1or, things went fast and well. By the\nrespectable intervention of a cleric--who was the friend of Don\nAlvaro, and who also was the friend of Do\u00f1a Mar\u00eda's parents--all the\ndifficulties were cleared away in a hurry; and only a fortnight after\nthe green cross was hung on the railing of Do\u00f1a Mar\u00eda's balcony--that\nfortnight seemed an endless time to Don Alvaro, but for such a matter\nit really was the least that a lady could get ready in--they went\ntogether before the altar, and at the foot of it they vowed to each\nother their love. And what is best of all, Se\u00f1or, is that they kept\nfaithfully their vow.\n\nThen it was, being gladly married, that Don Alvaro caused the green\ncross of stone--so big that it rises to the first floor from the\npavement--to be carved on the corner of the house that thenceforward\nthey lived in; and it was carved beneath the very balcony where had\nhung the green cross of palm-leaves that had given to him Do\u00f1a Mar\u00eda's\ntrue promise of heaven-perfect happiness for all his life long.\n\nAnd there the green cross still is, Se\u00f1or; and the name of the street,\nas I have told you, is the Calle de la Cruz Verde--which of course\nproves that this story is true.\n\n\n\n\n LEGEND OF LA MUJER HERRADA[5]\n\n\nI do not know when this matter happened, Se\u00f1or; but my grandfather,\nwho told me about it, spoke as though all three of them--the priest,\nand the blacksmith, and the woman--had lived a long while before his\ntime. However, my grandfather said that the priest and the woman, who\nwas his housekeeper, pretty certainly lived in a house--it is gone\nnow, Se\u00f1or--that was in the street that is called the Puerta Falsa de\nSanto Domingo. And he said that the blacksmith certainly did live in a\nhouse in the Calle de las Rejas de la Balvanera--because he himself\nhad seen the house, and had seen the farrier's knife and the pincers\ncut on the stone arching above the door. Therefore you perceive,\nSe\u00f1or, that my grandfather was well acquainted with these people, and\nthat this story is true.\n\nThe priest was a secular, Se\u00f1or, not belonging to any Order; and he\nand the blacksmith were compadres together--that is to say, they were\nclose friends. It was because the blacksmith had a great liking for\nhis compadre, and a great respect for him, that from time to time he\nurged him to send away the housekeeper; but his compadre always had\nsome pleasant excuse to make about the matter, and so the blacksmith\nwould be put off. And things went on that way for a number of years.\n\nNow it happened, on a night, that the blacksmith was wakened out of\nhis sleep by a great pounding at the door of his house; and when he\ngot up and went to his door he found standing there two blacks--they\nwere men whom he never had laid eyes on--and with them was a she mule\nthat they had brought to be shod. The blacks made their excuses to him\npolitely for waking him at that bad hour: telling him that the mule\nbelonged to his compadre, and had been sent to him to be shod in the\nnight and in a hurry because his compadre of a sudden had occasion to\ngo upon a journey, and that he must start upon his journey very early\non the morning of the following day. Then the blacksmith, looking\nclosely at the mule, saw that she really was the mule of his\ncompadre; and so, for friendship's sake, he shod her without more\nwords. The blacks led the mule away when the shoeing was finished;\nand, as they went off into the night with her, they fell to beating\nher so cruelly with heavy sticks that the blacksmith talked to them\nwith great severity. But the blacks kept on beating the mule, and even\nafter they were lost in the darkness the blacksmith continued to hear\nthe sound of their blows.\n\n[Illustration: LA MVJER HERRADA]\n\nIn some ways this whole matter seemed so strange to the blacksmith\nthat he wanted to know more about it. Therefore he got up very early\nin the morning and went to his compadre's house: meaning to ask him\nwhat was the occasion of this journey that had to be taken in such a\nhurry, and who those strange blacks were who so cruelly had beaten his\nmeritorious mule. But when he was come to the house he had to wait a\nwhile before the door was opened; and when at last it did open, there\nwas his compadre half asleep--and his compadre said that he was not\ngoing on any journey, and that most certainly he had not sent his mule\nto be shod. And then, as he got wider awake, he began to laugh at\nthe blacksmith because of the trick that had been put upon him; and\nthat the woman might share in the joke of it--they all were great\nfriends together--he knocked at the door of her room and called to\nher. But the woman did not answer back to him; and when he knocked\nlouder and louder she still gave no sign.\n\nThen he, and the blacksmith too, became anxious about the woman; and\ntogether they opened the door and went into the room. And what they\nsaw when they were come into the room, Se\u00f1or, was the most terrible\nsight that ever was seen in this world! For there, lying upon her bed,\nwas that unhappy woman looking all distraught and agonized; and nailed\nfast to the feet and to the hands of her were the very same iron shoes\nthat the blacksmith--who well knew his own forge-work--had nailed fast\nto the hoofs of the mule! Moreover, upon her body were the welts and\nthe bruises left there when the blacks had beaten the mule with their\ncruel blows. And the woman, Se\u00f1or, was as dead as she possibly could\nbe. So they knew that what had happened was a divine punishment, and\nthat the blacks were two devils who had changed the woman into a mule\nand so had taken her to be shod.\n\nPerceiving, because of such a sign being given him, Se\u00f1or, that he had\ncommitted an error, the master of that house of horror immediately\nwent out from it--and at once disappeared completely and never was\nheard of again. As for the blacksmith, he was so pained by his share\nin the matter that always afterward, until the death of him, he was a\nvery unhappy man. And that is the story of the Iron-shod Woman, Se\u00f1or,\nfrom first to last.\n\n\n\n\n LEGEND OF THE ACCURSED BELL[6]\n\n\nThis story, Se\u00f1or--it is about the accursed bell that once was the\nclock-bell of the Palace--has so many beginnings that the only way\nreally to get at the bones of it would be for a number of people, all\ntalking at once, to tell the different first parts of it at the same\ntime.\n\nFor, you see, the curse that was upon this bell--that caused it to be\nbrought to trial before the Consejo of the Inquisition, and by the\nConsejo to be condemned to have its wicked tongue torn out and to be\nbanished from Spain to this country--was made up of several curses\nwhich had been in use in other ways elsewhere previously: so that one\nbeginning is with the Moor, and another with Don Gil de Marcadante,\nand another with the devil-forged armor, and still another with the\nloosing of all the curses from the cross (wherein for some hundreds of\nyears they were imprisoned) and the fusing of them into the one great\ncurse wherewith this unfortunate bell was afflicted--which happened\nwhen that holy emblem was refounded, and with the metal of it this\nbell was made.\n\nConcerning the Moor, Se\u00f1or, I can give you very little information.\nAll that I know about him is that he had the bad name of Muslef; and\nthat he was killed--as he deserved to be killed, being an Infidel--by\na Christian knight; and that this knight cut his head off and brought\nit home with him as an agreeable memento of the occasion, and was very\npleased with what he had done. Unfortunately, this knight also brought\nhome with him the Moor's armor--which was of bronze, and so curiously\nand so beautifully wrought that it evidently had been forged by\ndevils, and which was farther charged with devilishness because it had\nbeen worn by an Infidel; and then, still more unfortunately, he\nneglected to have the armor purified by causing the devils to be\nexorcised out of it by a Christian priest. Therefore, of course, the\ndevils remained in the armor--ready to make trouble whenever they got\nthe chance.\n\nHow Don Gil de Marcadante came to be the owner of that accursed\ndevil-possessed armor, Se\u00f1or, I never have heard mentioned. Perhaps he\nbought it because it happened to fit him; and, certainly--he being a\nmost unusually sinful young gentleman--the curse that was upon it and\nthe devils which were a part of it fitted him to a hair.\n\nThis Don Gil was a student of law in Toledo; but his studies were the\nvery last things to which he turned his attention, and the life that\nhe led was the shame of his respectable brother and his excellent\nmother's despair. Habitually, he broke every law of the Decalogue, and\nso brazenly that all the city rang with the stories of his evil doings\nand his crimes. Moreover, he was of a blusterous nature and a born\nbrawler: ready at the slightest contradiction to burst forth with such\na torrent of blasphemies and imprecations that his mouth seemed to be\na den of snakes and toads and scorpions; and ever quick to snatch his\nsword out and to get on in a hurry from words to blows. As his nearest\napproach to good nature was after he had killed some one in a quarrel\nof his own making, and as even at those favorable times his temper was\nof a brittleness, he was not looked upon as an agreeable companion\nand had few friends.\n\nThis Don Gil had most intimate relations with the devil, as was proved\nin various ways. Thus, a wound that he received in one of his duels\ninstantly closed and healed itself; on a night of impenetrable\ndarkness, as he went about his evil doings, he was seen to draw apart\nthe heavy gratings of a window as though the thick iron bars had been\nsilken threads; and a stone that he cast at a man in one of his\nrages--mercifully not hitting him--remained burning hot in the place\nwhere it had fallen for several days. Moreover, it was known generally\nthat in the night time, in a very secret and hidden part of his\ndwelling, he gave himself up to hideous and most horrible sacrileges\nin which his master the devil had always a part. And so these\nfacts--and others of a like nature--coming to the knowledge of the\nHoly Office, it was perceived that he was a sorcerer. Therefore he was\nmarched off--wearing his devil-forged armor, to which fresh curses had\ncome with his use of it--to a cell in the Inquisition; and to make\nsure of holding him fast until the next auto de f\u00e9 came round, when he\nwas to be burned properly and regularly, he was bound with a great\nchain, and the chain was secured firmly to a strong staple in the cell\nwall.\n\nBut the devil, Se\u00f1or, sometimes saves his own. On a morning, the\njailer went as usual to Don Gil's cell with the bread and the water\nfor him; and when he had opened the cell door he saw, as he believed,\nDon Gil in his armor waiting as usual for his bread and his water: but\nin a moment he perceived that what he saw was not Don Gil in his\narmor, but only the accursed armor standing upright full of emptiness;\nand that the staple was torn out; and that the great chain was broken;\nand that Don Gil was gone! And then--so much to the horror of the\njailer that he immediately went mad of it--the empty armor began\nslowly to walk up and down the cell!\n\nAfter that time Don Gil never was seen, nor was he heard of, again on\nearth; and so on earth, when the time came for burning him at the auto\nde f\u00e9, he had to be burned in effigy. However--as there could be no\ndoubt about the place to which the devil had taken him--everybody was\nwell satisfied that he got his proper personal burning elsewhere.\n\nThen it was, Se\u00f1or, that the Holy Office most wisely ordered that that\ndevil-possessed and doubly accursed armor should be melted, and\nrefounded into a cross: knowing that the sanctity of that blessed\nemblem would quiet the curses and would hold the devils still and\nfast. Therefore that order was executed; and the wisdom of it--which\nsome had questioned, on the ground that devils and curses were\nunsuitable material to make a cross of--was apparent as soon as the\nbronze turned fluid in the furnace: because there came from the fiery\nseething midst of it--to the dazed terror of the workmen--shouts of\ndevil-laughter, and imprecations horrible to listen to, and frightful\nblasphemies; and to these succeeded, as the metal was being poured\ninto the mould, a wild outburst of defiant remonstrance; and then all\nthis demoniac fury died away--as the metal hardened and became fixed\nas a cross--at first into half-choked cries of agony, and then into\nconfused lamentations, and at the last into little whimpering moans.\nThus the devils and the curses were disposed of: and then the\ncross--holding them imprisoned in its holy substance--was set up in a\nlittle townlet not far from Madrid in which just then a cross\nhappened to be wanted; and there it remained usefully for some\nhundreds of years.\n\nAt the end of that period--by which time everybody was dead who knew\nwhat was inside of it--the cross was asked for by the Prior of a\nlittle convent in that townlet near Madrid, who desired it that he\nmight have it refounded into a bell; and as the Prior was a worthy\nperson, and as he really needed a bell, his request was granted. So\nthey made out of the cross a very beautiful bell: having on one side\nof it the two-headed eagle; and having on the other side of it a\ncalvario; and having at the top of it, for its hanging, two imperial\nlions supporting a cross-bar in the shape of a crown. Then it was hung\nin the tower of the little convent; and the Prior, and all the\nBrothers with him, were very much pleased. But that worthy Prior, and\nthose equally worthy Brothers, were not pleased for long, Se\u00f1or:\nbecause the curses and the devils all were loose again--and their\nchance to do new wickednesses had come!\n\nOn a night of blackness, without any warning whatever, the whole of\nthe townlet was awakened by the prodigious clangor of a bell\nfuriously ringing. In an instant--seeking the cause of this\ndisturbance--everybody came out into the night's blackness: the Se\u00f1or\nCura, the Se\u00f1or Alcalde, the alguaciles, the Prior, the Brothers, all\nthe townsfolk to the very last one. And when they had looked about\nthem they found that the cause of the disturbance was the new bell of\nthe convent: which was ringing with such an excessive violence that\nthe night's blackness was corrupted with its noise.\n\nTerror was upon everyone; and greater terror was upon every one when\nit was found out that the door of the bell-tower was locked, and that\nthe bell was ringing of its lone self: because the bad fact then\nbecame evident that only devils could have the matter in hand. The\nSe\u00f1or Alcalde alone--being a very valiant gentleman, and not much\nbelieving in devils--was not satisfied with that finding. Therefore\nthe Se\u00f1or Alcalde caused the door to be unlocked and, carrying a torch\nwith him, entered the bell-tower; and there he found the bell-rope\ncrazily flying up and down as though a dozen men were pulling it, and\nnobody was pulling it--which sight somewhat shook his nerves.\nHowever, because of his valorousness, he only stopped to cross\nhimself; and then he went on bravely up the belfry stair. But what he\nsaw when he was come into the belfry fairly brought him to a stand.\nFor there was the bell ringing tempestuously; and never a visible hand\nwas near it; and the only living thing that he found in the belfry was\na great black cat with its tail bushed out and its fur\nbristling--which evil animal for a moment leered at him malignantly,\nwith its green eyes gleaming in the torch-light, and then sprang\npast him and dashed down the stair.\n\nThen the Se\u00f1or Alcalde, no longer doubting that the bell was being\nrung by devils, and himself not knowing how to manage devils, called\ndown from the belfry to the Se\u00f1or Cura to come up and take charge of\nthe matter: whereupon the Se\u00f1or Cura, holding his courage in both\nhands, did come up into the belfry, bringing his hisopo with him, and\nfell to sprinkling the bell with holy water--which seemed to him, so\nfar as he could see his way into that difficult tangle, the best thing\nthat he could do. But his doing it, of course, was the very worst\nthing that he could have done: because, you see, Se\u00f1or, the devils\nwere angered beyond all endurance by being scalded with the holy water\n(that being the effect that holy water has upon devils) and so only\nrang the bell the more furiously in their agony of pain. Then the\nSe\u00f1or Alcalde and the Se\u00f1or Cura perceived that they could not quiet\nthe devils, and decided to give up trying to. Therefore they came down\nfrom the belfry together--and they, and everybody with them, went away\nthrough the night's blackness crossing themselves, and were glad to be\nsafe again in their homes.\n\nThe next day the Se\u00f1or Alcalde made a formal inquest into the whole\nmatter: citing to appear before him all the townsfolk and all the\nBrothers, and questioning them closely every one. And the result of\nthis inquest was to make certain that the bell-ringer of the convent\nhad not rung the bell; nor had any other of the Brothers rung it; nor\nhad any of the townsfolk rung it. Therefore the Se\u00f1or Alcalde, and\nwith him the Se\u00f1or Cura--whose opinion was of importance in such a\nmatter--decided that the devil had rung it: and their decision was\naccepted by everybody, because that was what everybody from the\nbeginning had believed.\n\nTherefore--because such devilish doings affected the welfare of the\nwhole kingdom--a formal report of all that had happened was submitted\nto the Cortes; and the Cortes, after pondering the report seriously,\nperceived that the matter was ecclesiastical and referred it to the\nConsejo of the Inquisition; and the members of the Consejo, in due\ncourse, ordered that all the facts should be digested and regularized\nand an opinion passed upon them by their Fiscal.\n\nBeing a very painstaking person, the Fiscal went at his work with so\ngreat an earnestness that for more than a year he was engaged upon it.\nFirst he read all that he could find to read about bells in all the\nSpanish law books, from the _Siete Partidas_ of Alonzo the Wise\ndownward; then he read all that he could find about bells in such law\nbooks of foreign countries as were accessible to him; then, in the\nlight of the information so obtained, he digested and regularized the\nfacts of the case presented for his consideration and applied himself\nto writing his opinion upon them; and then, at last, he came before\nthe Consejo and read to that body his opinion from beginning to end.\nThrough the whole of a long day the Fiscal read his opinion; and\nthrough the whole of the next day, and the next, and the next; and at\nthe end of the fourth day he finished the reading of his opinion and\nsat down. And the opinion of the Fiscal was that the devil had rung\nthe bell.\n\nThen the Consejo, after debating for three days upon what had been\nread by the Fiscal, gave formal approval to his opinion; and in\nconformity with it the Consejo came to these conclusions:\n\n 1. That the ringing of the bell was a matter of no importance\n to good Christians.\n\n 2. That the bell, being possessed of a devil, should have its\n tongue torn out: so that never again should it dare to ring of\n its lone devilish self, to the peril of human souls.\n\n 3. That the bell, being dangerous to good Christians, should\n be banished from the Spanish Kingdom to the Indies, and\n forever should remain tongueless and exiled over seas.\n\nThereupon, that wise sentence was executed. The devil-possessed bell\nwas taken down from the belfry of the little convent, and its wicked\ntongue was torn out of it; then it was carried shamefully and with\ninsults to the coast; then it was put on board of one of the ships of\nthe flota bound for Mexico; and in Mexico, in due course, it arrived.\nBeing come here, and no orders coming with it regarding its\ndisposition, it was brought from Vera Cruz to the Capital and was\nplaced in an odd corner of one of the corridors of the Palace: and\nthere it remained quietly--everybody being shy of meddling with a bell\nthat was known to be alive with witchcraft--for some hundreds of\nyears.\n\nIn that same corner it still was, Se\u00f1or, when the Conde de\nRevillagigedo--only a little more than a century ago--became Viceroy;\nand as soon as that most energetic gentleman saw it he wanted to know\nin a hurry--being indisposed to let anything or anybody rust in\nidleness--why a bell that needed only a tongue in it to make it\nserviceable was not usefully employed. For some time no one could tell\nhim anything more about the bell than that there was a curse upon it;\nand that answer did not satisfy him, because curses did not count for\nmuch in his very practical mind. In the end a very old clerk in the\nSecretariat gave him the bell's true story; and proved the truth of it\nby bringing out from deep in the archives an ancient yellowed\nparchment: which was precisely the royal order, following the decree\nof the Consejo, that the bell should have its tongue torn out, and\nforever should remain tongueless and exiled over seas.\n\nWith that order before him, even the Conde de Revillagigedo, Se\u00f1or,\ndid not venture to have a new tongue put into the bell and to set it\nto regular work again; but what he did do came to much the same thing.\nAt that very time he was engaged in pushing to a brisk completion the\nrepairs to the Palace--that had gone on for a hundred years\nlanguishingly, following the burning of it in the time of the Viceroy\nDon Gaspar de la Cerda--and among his repairings was the replacement\nof the Palace clock. Now a clock-bell, Se\u00f1or, does not need a tongue\nin it, being struck with hammers from the outside; and so the Conde,\nwhose wits were of an alertness, perceived in a moment that by\nemploying the bell as a clock-bell he could make it useful again\nwithout traversing the king's command. And that was what immediately\nhe did with it--and that was how the Palace clock came to have foisted\nupon it this accursed bell.\n\nBut, so far as I have heard, Se\u00f1or, this bell conducted itself as a\nclock-bell with a perfect regularity and propriety: probably because\nthe devils which were in it had grown too old to be dangerously\nhurtful, and because the curse that was upon it had weakened with\ntime. I myself, as a boy and as a young man, have heard it doing its\nduty always punctually; and no doubt it still would be doing its duty\nhad not the busybodying French seen fit--during the period of the\nIntervention, when they meddled with everything--to put another bell\nin the place of it and to have it melted down. What was done with the\nmetal when the bell was melted, Se\u00f1or, I do not know; but I have been\ntold by an old founder of my acquaintance that nothing was done with\nit: because, as he very positively assured me, when the bell was\nmelted the metal of it went sour in the furnace and refused to be\nrecast.\n\nIf that is true, Se\u00f1or, it looks as though all those devils in the\nbell--which came to it from the Moor and from the devil-forged armor\nand from Don Gil de Marcadante--still had some strength for wickedness\nleft to them even in their old age.\n\n\n\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLEJ\u00d3N DEL PADRE LECUONA[7]\n\n\nWho Padre Lecuona was, Se\u00f1or, and what he did or had done to him in\nthis street that caused his name to be given to it, I do not know. The\nPadre about whom I now am telling you, who had this strange thing\nhappen to him in this street, was named Lanza; but he was called by\neverybody Lanchitas--according to our custom of giving such endearing\ndiminutives to the names of those whom we love. He deserved to be\nloved, this excellent Padre Lanchitas: because he himself loved\neverybody, and freely gave to all in sickness or in trouble his loving\naid. Confessing to him was a pleasure; and his absolution was worth\nhaving, because it was given always with the approval of the good God.\nMy own grandfather knew him well, Se\u00f1or, having known a man who had\nseen him when he was a boy. Therefore this strange story about him is\ntrue.\n\nOn a night--and it was a desponding night, because rain was falling\nand there was a chill wind--Padre Lanchitas was hurrying to the house\nof a friend of his, where every week he and three other gentlemen of a\nFriday evening played malilla together. It is a very serious game,\nSe\u00f1or, and to play it well requires a large mind. He was late, and\nthat was why he was hurrying.\n\nWhen he was nearly come to the house of his friend--and glad to get\nthere because of the rain and the cold--he was stopped by an old woman\nplucking at his wet cloak and speaking to him. And the old woman\nbegged him for God's mercy to come quickly and confess a dying man.\nNow that is a call, Se\u00f1or, that a priest may not refuse; but because\nhis not joining them would inconvenience his friends, who could not\nplay at their game of malilla without him, he asked the woman why she\ndid not go to the parish priest of the parish in which the dying man\nwas. And the woman answered him that only to him would the dying man\nconfess; and she begged him again for God's mercy to hurry with her,\nor the confession would not be made in time--and then the sin of his\nrefusal would be heavy on his own soul when he himself came to die.\n\nSo, then, the Padre went with her, walking behind her along the cold\ndark streets in the mud with the rain falling; and at last she brought\nhim to the eastern end of this street that is called the Callej\u00f3n del\nPadre Lecuona, and to the long old house there that faces toward the\nchurch of El Carmen and has a hump in the middle on the top of its\nfront wall. It is a very old house, Se\u00f1or. It was built in the time\nwhen we had Viceroys, instead of the President Porf\u00edrio; and it has no\nwindows--only a great door for the entering of carriages at one end of\nit, and a small door in the middle of it, and another small door at\nthe other end. A person who sells charcoal, Se\u00f1or, lives there now.\n\nIt was to the middle door that the woman brought Padre Lanchitas. The\ndoor was not fastened, and at a touch she pushed it open and in they\nwent together--and the first thing that the Padre noticed when he was\ncome through the doorway was a very bad smell. It was the sort of\nsmell, Se\u00f1or, that is found in very old houses of which all the doors\nand windows have been shut fast for a very long time. But the Padre\nhad matters more important than bad smells to attend to, and all that\nhe did about it was to hold his handkerchief close to his nose. One\nlittle poor candle, stuck on a nail in a board, was set in a far\ncorner; and in another corner was a man lying on a mat spread upon the\nearth floor; and there was nothing else whatever--excepting cobwebs\neverywhere, and the bad smell, and the old woman, and the Padre\nhimself--in that room.\n\nThat he might see him whom he was to confess, Padre Lanchitas took the\ncandle in his hand and went to the man on the mat and pulled aside the\nragged and dirty old blanket that covered him; and then he started\nback with a very cold qualm in his stomach, saying to the woman: \"This\nman already is dead! He cannot confess! And he has the look of having\nbeen dead for a very long while!\" And that was true, Se\u00f1or--for what\nhe saw was a dry and bony head, with yellow skin drawn tight over it,\nhaving shut eyes deep sunken. Also, the two hands which rested crossed\nupon the man's breast were no more than the same dry yellow skin\nshrunk close over shrunken bones! And, seeing such a bad strange\nsight, the Padre was uneasy and alarmed.\n\nBut the woman said back to him with assurance, yet also coaxingly:\n\"This man is going to confess, Padrecito\"--and, so speaking, she\nfetched from its far corner the board with the nail in it, and took\nthe candle from him and set it fast again upon the nail. And then the\nman himself, in the light and in the shadow, sat up on the mat and\nbegan to recite in a voice that had a rusty note in it the Confiteor\nDeo--and after that, of course, there was nothing for the Padre to do\nbut to listen to him till the end.\n\n[Illustration: EL CALLEJ\u00d3N DEL PADRE LECVONA]\n\nWhat he told, Se\u00f1or, being told under the seal of confession, of\ncourse remained always a secret. But it was known, later, that he\nspoke of matters which had happened a good two hundred years back--as\nthe Padre knew because he was a great reader of books of history; and\nthat he put himself into the very middle of those matters and made the\nterrible crime that he had committed a part of them; and that he ended\nby telling that in that ancient time he had been killed in a brawl\nsuddenly, and so had died unconfessed and unshriven, and that ever\nsince his soul had blistered in hell.\n\nHearing such wild talk from him, the Padre was well satisfied that the\npoor man's wits were wandering in his fever--as happens with many,\nSe\u00f1or, in their dying time--and so bade him lie quietly and rest\nhimself; and promised that he would come to him and hear his\nconfession later on.\n\nBut the man cried out very urgently that that must not be: declaring\nthat by God's mercy he had been given one single chance to come back\nagain out of Eternity to confess his sins and to be shriven of them;\nand that unless the Padre did hearken then and there to the confession\nof his sins, and did shrive him of them, this one chance that God's\nmercy had given him would be lost and wasted--and back he would go\nforever to the hot torments of hell.\n\nTherefore the Padre--being sure, by that time, that the man was quite\ncrazy in his fever--let him talk on till he had told the whole story\nof his frightful sinnings; and then did shrive him, to quiet him--just\nas you promise the moon to a sick, fretful child. And the devil must\nhave been very uneasy that night, Se\u00f1or, because the good nature of\nthat kind-hearted priest lost to him what by rights was his own!\n\nAs Padre Lanchitas spoke the last words of the absolution, the man\nfell back again on his mat with a sharp crackling sound like that of\ndry bones rattling; and the woman had left the room; and the candle\nwas sputtering out its very last sparks. Therefore the Padre went out\nin a hurry through the still open door into the street; and no sooner\nhad he come there than the door closed behind him sharply, as though\nsome one on the inside had pushed against it strongly to shut it fast.\n\nOut in the street he had expected to find the old woman waiting for\nhim; and he looked about for her everywhere, desiring to tell her that\nshe must send for him when the man's fever left him--that he might\nreturn and hear from the man a real confession, and really shrive him\nof his sins. But the old woman was quite gone. Thinking that she must\nhave slipped past him in the darkness into the house, he knocked at\nthe door lightly, and then loudly; but no answer came to his\nknocking--and when he tried to push the door open, using all his\nstrength, it held fast against his pushing as firmly as though it had\nbeen a part of the stone wall.\n\nSo the Padre, having no liking for standing there in the cold and rain\nuselessly, hurried onward to his friend's house--and was glad to get\ninto the room where his friends were waiting for him, and where plenty\nof candles were burning, and where it was dry and warm.\n\nHe had walked so fast that his forehead was wet with sweat when he\ntook his hat off, and to dry it he put his hand into his pocket for\nhis handkerchief; but his handkerchief was not in his pocket--and then\nhe knew that he must have dropped it in the house where the dying man\nlay. It was not just a common handkerchief, Se\u00f1or, but one very finely\nembroidered--having the letters standing for his name worked upon it,\nwith a wreath around them--that had been made for him by a nun of his\nacquaintance in a convent of which he was the almoner; and so, as he\ndid not at all like to lose it, he sent his friend's servant to that\nold house to get it back again. After a good long while, the servant\nreturned: telling that the house was shut fast, and that one of the\nwatch--seeing him knocking at the door of it--had told him that to\nknock there was only to wear out his knuckles, because no one had\nlived in that house for years and years!\n\nAll of this, as well as all that had gone before it, was so strange\nand so full of mystery, that Padre Lanchitas then told to his three\nfriends some part of what that evening had happened to him; and it\nchanced that one of the three was the notary who had in charge the\nestate of which that very house was a part. And the notary gave Padre\nLanchitas his true word for it that the house--because of some\nentangling law matters--had stood locked fast and empty for as much as\na lifetime; and he declared that Padre Lanchitas must be mixing that\nhouse with some other house--which would be easy, since all that had\nhappened had been in the rainy dark. But the Padre, on his side, was\nsure that he had made no mistake in the matter; and they both got a\nlittle warm in their talk over it; and they ended by agreeing--so that\nthey might come to a sure settlement--to meet at that old house, and\nthe notary to bring with him the key of it, on the morning of the\nfollowing day.\n\nSo they did meet there, Se\u00f1or, and they went to the middle door--the\none that had opened at a touch from the old woman's hand. But all\naround that door, as the notary bade Padre Lanchitas observe before\nthey opened it, were unbroken cobwebs; and the keyhole was choked with\nthe dust that had blown into it, little by little, in the years that\nhad passed since it had known a key. And the other two doors of the\nhouse were just the same. However, Padre Lanchitas would not admit,\neven with that proof against him, that he was mistaken; and the\nnotary, smiling at him but willing to satisfy him, picked out the dust\nfrom the keyhole and got the key into it and forced back hardly the\nrusty bolt of the lock--and together they went inside.\n\nComing from the bright sunshine into that dusky place--lighted only\nfrom the doorway, and the door but part way open because it was loose\non its old hinges and stuck fast--they could see at first nothing more\nthan that the room was empty and bare. What they did find, though--and\nthe Padre well remembered it--was the bad smell. But the notary said\nthat just such bad smells were in all old shut-up houses, and it\nproved nothing; while the cobwebs and the closed keyhole did prove\nmost certainly that Padre Lanchitas had not entered that house the\nnight before--and that nobody had entered it for years and years. To\nwhat the notary said there was nothing to be answered; and the\nPadre--not satisfied, but forced to give in to such strong proof that\nhe was mistaken--was about to come away out of the house, and so have\ndone with it. But just then, Se\u00f1or, he made a very wonderful and\nhorrifying discovery. By that time his eyes had grown accustomed to\nthe shadows; and so he saw over in one corner--lying on the floor\nclose beside where the man had lain whose confession he had taken--a\nglint of something whitish. And, Se\u00f1or, it was his very own\nhandkerchief that he had lost!\n\nThat was enough to satisfy even the notary; and as nothing more was to\nbe done there they came out, and gladly, from that bad dark place into\nthe sunshine. As for Padre Lanchitas, Se\u00f1or, he was all mazed and\ndaunted--knowing then the terrible truth that he had confessed a dead\nman; and, what was worse, that he had given absolution to a sinful\nsoul come hot to him from hell! He held his hat in his hand as he\ncame out from the house--and never did he put it on again: bareheaded\nhe went thenceforward until the end of his days! He was a very good\nman, and his life had been always a very holy life; but from that time\non, till the death of him, he made it still holier by his prayings and\nhis fastings and his endless helpings of the poorest of the poor. At\nlast he died. And it is said, Se\u00f1or, that in the walls of that old\nhouse they found dead men's bones.\n\n\n\n\n LEGEND OF THE LIVING SPECTRE[8]\n\n\nApparitions of dead people, Se\u00f1or, of course are numerous and\nfrequent. I myself--as on other occasions I have mentioned to\nyou--have seen several spectres, and so have various of my friends.\nBut this spectre of which I now am telling you--that appeared on the\nPlaza Mayor at noonday, and was seen by everybody--was altogether out\nof the ordinary: being not in the least a dead person, but a person\nwho wore his own flesh and bones in the usual manner and was alive in\nthem; yet who certainly was walking and talking here on the Plaza\nMayor of this City of Mexico in the very self-same moment that he also\nwas walking and talking in a most remote and wholly different part of\nthe world. Therefore--in spite of his wearing his own flesh and bones\nin the usual manner and being alive in them--it was certain that he\nwas a spectre: because it was certain that his journeying could have\nbeen made only on devils' wings. The day on which this marvel\nhappened is known most exactly: because it happened on the day after\nthe day that the Governor of the Filipinas, Don G\u00f3mez P\u00e9rez\nDasmari\u00f1as, had his head murderously split open, and died of it, in\nthe Molucca Islands; and that gentleman was killed in that bad manner\non the 25th of October in the year 1593. Therefore--since everything\nconcerning this most extraordinary happening is known with so great an\naccuracy--there can be no doubt whatever but that in every particular\nall that I now am telling you is strictly true.\n\nBecause it began in two different places at the same time, it is not\neasy to say certainly, Se\u00f1or, which end of this story is the beginning\nof it; but the beginning of it is this: On a day, being the day that I\nhave just named to you, the sentries on guard at the great doors of\nthe Palace--and also the people who at that time happened to be\nwalking near by on the Plaza Mayor--of a sudden saw an entirely\nstrange sentry pacing his beat before the great doors of the Palace\nquite in the regular manner: marching back and forth, with his gun on\nhis shoulder; making his turns with a soldierly propriety; saluting\ncorrectly those entitled to salutes who passed him; and in every way\nconducting himself as though he duly had been posted there--but making\nhis marchings and his turnings and his salutings with a wondering look\non the face of him, and having the air of one who is all bedazzled and\nbemazed.\n\nWhat made every one know that he was a stranger in this City was that\nthe uniform which he wore was of a wholly different cut and fabric\nfrom that belonging to any regiment at that time quartered here:\nbeing, in fact--as was perceived by one of the sentries who had served\nin the Filipinas--the uniform worn in Manila by the Palace Guard. He\nwas a man of forty, or thereabouts; well set up and sturdy; and he had\nthe assured carriage--even in his bedazzlement and bemazement--of an\nold soldier who had seen much campaigning, and who could take care of\nhimself through any adventure in which he might happen to land.\nMoreover, his talk--when the time came for him to explain\nhimself--went with a devil-may-care touch to it that showed him to be\na man who even with witches and demons was quite ready to hold his\nown.\n\nHis explanation of himself, of course, was not long in coming: because\nthe Captain of the Guard at once was sent for; and when the Captain of\nthe Guard came he asked the stranger sentry most sharply what his name\nwas, and where he came from, and what he was doing on a post to which\nhe had not been assigned.\n\nTo these questions the stranger sentry made answer--speaking with an\neasy confidence, and not in the least ruffled by the Captain's\nsharpness with him--that his name was Gil P\u00e9rez; that he came from the\nFilipinas; and that what he was doing was his duty as near as he could\ncome to it: because he had been duly detailed to stand sentry that\nmorning before the Governor's Palace--and although this was not the\nGovernor's Palace before which he had been posted it certainly was a\ngovernor's palace, and that he therefore was doing the best that he\ncould do. And to these very curious statements he added--quite\ncasually, as though referring to an ordinary matter of current\ninterest--that the Governor of the Filipinas, Don G\u00f3mez P\u00e9rez\nDasmari\u00f1as, had had his head murderously split open, and was dead of\nit, in the Molucca Islands the evening before.\n\nWell, Se\u00f1or, you may fancy what a nest of wasps was let loose when\nthis Gil P\u00e9rez gave to the Captain of the Guard so incredible an\naccount of himself; and, on top of it, told that the Governor of the\nFilipinas had been badly killed on the previous evening in islands in\nthe Pacific Ocean thousands and thousands of miles away! It was a\nmatter that the Viceroy himself had to look into. Therefore before the\nViceroy--who at that time was the good Don Luis de Velasco--Gil P\u00e9rez\nwas brought in a hurry: and to the Viceroy he told over again just the\nsame story, in just the same cool manner, and in just the same words.\n\nVery naturally, the Viceroy put a great many keen questions to him;\nand to those questions he gave his answers--or said plainly that he\ncould not give any answers--with the assured air of an old soldier who\nwould not lightly suffer his word to be doubted even by a Viceroy; and\nwho was ready, in dealing with persons of less consequence, to make\ngood his sayings with his fists or with his sword.\n\nIn part, his explanation of himself was straightforward and\nsatisfactory. What he told about the regiment to which he belonged was\nknown to be true; and equally known to be true was much of what he\ntold--being in accord with the news brought thence by the latest\ngalleon--about affairs in the Filipinas. But when it came to\nexplaining the main matter--how he had been shifted across the ocean\nand the earth, and all in a single moment, from his guard-mount before\nthe Governor's Palace in Manila to his guard-mount before the\nViceroy's Palace in the City of Mexico--Gil P\u00e9rez was at a stand. How\nthat strange thing had happened, he said, he knew no more than Don\nLuis himself knew. All that he could be sure of was that it _had_\nhappened: because, certainly, only a half hour earlier he had been in\nManila; and now, just as certainly, he was in the City of Mexico--as\nhis lordship the Viceroy could see plainly with his own eyes. As to\nthe even greater marvel--how he knew that on the previous evening the\nGovernor of the Filipinas had had his head murderously split open, and\nwas dead of it, in the Molucca Islands--he said quite freely that he\ndid not in the least know how he knew it. What alone he could be sure\nof, he said, was that in his heart he did know that Don G\u00f3mez had\nbeen killed on the previous evening in that bad manner; and he very\nstoutly asserted that the truth of what he told would be clear to Don\nLuis, and to everybody, when the news of the killing of Don G\u00f3mez had\nhad time to get to Mexico in the ordinary way.\n\nAnd then Gil P\u00e9rez--having answered all of the Viceroy's questions\nwhich he could answer, and having said all that he had to say--stood\nquite at his ease before the Viceroy: with his feet firmly planted,\nand his right hand on his hip, and his right arm akimbo--and so waited\nfor whatever might happen to be the next turn.\n\nWell, Se\u00f1or, the one thing of which anybody really could be sure in\nthis amazing matter--and of which, of course, everybody was sure--was\nthat the devil was at both the bottom and the top of it; and, also,\nthere seemed to be very good ground for believing that Gil P\u00e9rez was\nin much closer touch with the devil than any good Christian--even\nthough he were an old soldier, and not much in the way of Christianity\nexpected of him--had any right to be. Therefore the Viceroy rid\nhimself of an affair that was much the same to him as a basket of\nnettles by turning Gil P\u00e9rez over to the Holy Office--and off he was\ncarried to Santo Domingo and clapped into one of the strongest cells.\n\nMost men, of course, on finding themselves that way in the clutches of\nthe Inquisition, would have had all the insides of them filled with\nterror; but Gil P\u00e9rez, Se\u00f1or--being, as I have mentioned, an old\ncampaigner--took it all as it came along to him and was not one bit\ndisturbed. He said cheerfully that many times in the course of his\nsoldiering he had been in much worse places; and added that--having a\ngood roof over his head, and quite fair rations, and instead of\nmarching and fighting only to sit at his ease and enjoy himself--he\nreally was getting, for once in his life, as much of clear comfort as\nany old soldier had a right to expect would come his way. Moreover, in\nhis dealings with the Familiars of the Holy Office his conduct was\nexemplary. He stuck firmly to his assertion that--whatever the devil\nmight have had to do with him--he never had had anything to do with\nthe devil; he seemed to take a real pleasure in confessing as many of\nhis sins as he conveniently could remember; and in every way that was\nopen to him his conduct was that of quite as good a Christian as any\nold soldier reasonably could be expected to be.\n\nTherefore--while he staid on in his cell very contentedly--the\nFamiliars of the Holy Office put their heads together and puzzled and\npuzzled as to what they should do with him: because it certainly\nseemed as though the devil, to suit his own devilish purposes, simply\nhad made a convenience of Gil P\u00e9rez without getting his consent in the\nmatter; and so it did not seem quite fair--in the face of his protest\nthat he was as much annoyed as anybody was by what the devil had done\nwith him--to put him into a flame-covered sanbenito, and to march him\noff to be burned for a sorcerer at the next auto de f\u00e9. Therefore the\nFamiliars of the Holy Office kept on putting their heads together and\npuzzling and puzzling as to what they should do with him; and Gil\nP\u00e9rez kept on enjoying himself in his cell in Santo Domingo--and so\nthe months went on and on.\n\nAnd then, on a day, a new turn was given to the whole matter: when\nthe galleon from the Filipinas arrived at Acapulco and brought with it\nthe proof that every word that Gil P\u00e9rez had spoken was true. Because\nthe galleon brought the news that Don G\u00f3mez P\u00e9rez Dasmari\u00f1as--the crew\nof the ship that he was on having mutinied--really had had his head\nmurderously split open, and was dead of it, in the Molucca Islands;\nand that this bad happening had come to him at the very time that Gil\nP\u00e9rez had named. Moreover, one of the military officers who had come\nfrom the Filipinas in the galleon, and up from Acapulco to the City of\nMexico with the conducta, recognized Gil P\u00e9rez the moment that he laid\neyes on him; and this officer said that he had seen him--only a day or\ntwo before the galleon's sailing--on duty in Manila with the Palace\nGuard. And so the fact was settled beyond all doubting that Gil P\u00e9rez\nhad been brought by the devil from Manila to the City of Mexico; and,\nalso, that the devil--since only the devil could have done it--had put\nthe knowledge of the murderous killing of Don G\u00f3mez into his heart.\nWherefore the fact that Gil P\u00e9rez was in league with the devil was\nclear to all the world.\n\nThen the Familiars of the Holy Office for the last time put their\nheads together and puzzled and puzzled over the matter; and at the end\nof their puzzling they decided that Gil P\u00e9rez was an innocent person,\nand that he undoubtedly had had criminal relations with the devil and\nwas full of wickedness. Therefore they ordered that, being innocent,\nhe should be set free from his cell in Santo Domingo; and that, being\na dangerous character whose influence was corrupting, he should be\nsent back to Manila in the returning galleon. And that was their\ndecree.\n\nGil P\u00e9rez, Se\u00f1or, took that disposition of him in the same easy-going\nway that he had taken all the other dispositions of him: save that he\ngrumbled a little--as was to be expected of an old soldier--over\nhaving to leave his comfortably idle life in his snug quarters and to\ngo again to his fightings and his guard-mounts and his parades. And so\nback he went to the Filipinas: only his return journey was made in a\nslow and natural manner aboard the galleon--not, as his outward\njourney had been made, all in a moment on devils' wings.\n\nTo my mind, Se\u00f1or, it seems that there is more of this story that\nought to be told. For myself, I should like to know why the Familiars\nof the Holy Office did not deal a little more severely with a case\nthat certainly had the devil at both the bottom and the top of it;\nand, also, I should like to know what became of Gil P\u00e9rez when he got\nback to Manila in the galleon--and there had to tell over again about\nhis relations with the devil in order to account for his half year's\nabsence from duty without leave. But those are matters which I never\nhave heard mentioned; and what I have told you is all that there is to\ntell.\n\n\n\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLE DE LOS PARADOS\n\n\nTwo dead lovers, Se\u00f1or, stand always in the Calle de los Parados, one\nat each end of it; and that is why--because they remain steadfastly on\nparade there, though it is not everybody who happens to see their\nyellow skeletons on those corners--the street of the Parados is so\nnamed.\n\n[Illustration: LA CALLE DE LOS PARADOS]\n\nAs you may suppose, Se\u00f1or, the lovers now being dry skeletons, what\nbrought them there happened some time ago. Just when it happened, I do\nnot know precisely; but it was when an excellent gentleman, who was an\nofficer in the Royal Mint, lived in the fine house that is in the\nmiddle of the street on the south side of it, and had living with him\na very beautiful daughter whose hair was like spun gold. This\ngentleman was named Don Jos\u00e9 de Vallejo y Hermosillo; and his daughter\nwas named (because her mother was of the noble family of Vezca) Do\u00f1a\nMar\u00eda Ysabel de Vallejo y Vezca; and she was of great virtue and\nsweetness, and was twenty-two years old.\n\nAll the young men of the City sought her in marriage; but there were\ntwo who were more than any of the others in earnest about it. One of\nthese was Don Francisco Puerto y Solis, a lieutenant of dragoons: who\nhad to offer her only his good looks--he was a very handsome\ngentleman--and the hope of what he might get for himself with his\nsword. The other one was the Se\u00f1or Don Antonio Miguel del Cardonal,\nConde de Valdecebro--who also was a handsome gentleman, and who owned\nmills in Puebla of the Angels, and a very great hacienda, and was so\nrich that it was the whole business of two old notaries to count his\ngold.\n\nAnd these two posted themselves every day in the street in which was\nDo\u00f1a Mar\u00eda's home--one at the corner of the Calle del Reloj, the other\nat the corner of the Calle de Santa Catarina--that they might look at\nher when she came forth from her house; and that she might see them\nwaiting to get sight of her, and so know that they loved her. It was\nthe same custom then, Se\u00f1or, as it is to-day. In that way all of our\npolite young men make love.\n\nAnd just as our young ladies nowadays wait and wait and think and\nthink before they make their hearts up, so Do\u00f1a Mar\u00eda waited and\nthought then--and the time slipped on and on, and neither the\nLieutenant nor the Conde knew what was in her mind. Then there\nhappened, Se\u00f1or, a very dismal thing. A pestilence fell upon the City,\nand of that pestilence Do\u00f1a Mar\u00eda sickened and died. But it chanced\nthat neither of her lovers was on his corner when they took her out\nfrom her house to bury her--you see, Se\u00f1or, even lovers must eat and\nsleep sometimes, and they could not be always on their watch for\nher--and in that way it happened that neither of them knew that she\nwas dead and gone. Therefore they kept on standing on their parade\nquite as usual--coming steadfastly to their corners day after day, and\nmonth after month, and year after year. And although, after a while,\nthey died too, they still stood at their posts--just as though they\nand Do\u00f1a Mar\u00eda still were alive. And there, on their corners, they\nhave remained until this very day.\n\n[Illustration: HOME OF DO\u00d1A MAR\u00cdA]\n\nIt is told, Se\u00f1or, that once in broad daylight half the City saw those\nhonest waiting skeletons. It was on a day when there was a great\nfestival for the incoming of a new Viceroy, and they were seen by\nthe crowd that waited in the atrium of the church of Santa Catarina to\nsee the procession pass. But that was some hundreds of years ago,\nSe\u00f1or. Now, for the most part, it is at night and by moonlight that\nthey are seen. I have not happened to see them myself--but then I do\nnot often go that way.\n\n\n\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLE DE LA JOYA\n\n\nWhat this street was called, in very old times, Se\u00f1or, no one knows:\nbecause the dreadful thing that gave to it the name of the Street of\nthe Jewel happened a long, long while ago. It was before the\nIndependence. It was while the Viceroys were here who were sent by the\nKing of Spain.\n\nIn those days there lived in this fine house at the corner of the\nCalle de Mesones and what since then has been called the Calle de la\nJoya--it is at the northwest corner, Se\u00f1or, and a biscuit-bakery is on\nthe lower floor--a very rich Spanish merchant: who was named Don\nAlonso Fern\u00e1ndez de Bobadilla, and who was a tall and handsome man,\nand gentle-mannered, and at times given to fits of rage. He was\nmarried to a very rich and a very beautiful lady, who was named Do\u00f1a\nYsabel de la Garcide y Tovar; and she was the daughter of the Conde de\nTorreleal. This lady was of an ardent and a wilful nature, but Don\nAlonso loved her with a sincerity and humored her in all her whims\nand wants. When they went abroad together--always in a grand coach,\nwith servants like flies around them--the whole City stood still and\nstared!\n\nDo\u00f1a Ysabel was not worthy of her husband's love: and so he was told\none day, by whom there was no knowing, in a letter that was thrown\nfrom the street into the room where he was sitting, on the ground\nfloor. It was his office of affairs, Se\u00f1or. It is one of the rooms\nwhere the biscuits are baked now. In that letter he was bidden to\nwatch with care his wife's doings with the Licenciado Don Jos\u00e9 Raul de\nLara, the Fiscal of the Inquisition--who was a forlorn little man\n(_hombrecillo_) not at all deserving of any lady's love--and Don\nAlonso did watch, and what came of his watching was a very terrible\nthing.\n\nHe pretended, Se\u00f1or, that he had an important affair with the Viceroy\nthat would keep him at the Palace until far into the night; and so\nwent his way from his home in the early evening--but went no farther\nthan a dozen paces from his own door. There, in the dark street,\nhuddled close into a doorway, his cloak around him--it was a night in\nwinter--he waited in the creeping cold. After a time along came some\none--he did not know who, but it was the Licenciado--and as he drew\nnear to the house Do\u00f1a Ysabel came out upon her balcony, and between\nthem there passed a sign. Then, in a little while, the door of Don\nAlonso's house was opened softly and the Licenciado went in; and then,\nsoftly, the door was shut again.\n\nPresently, Don Alonso also went in, holding in his hand his dagger.\nWhat he found--and it made him so angry that he fell into one of his\naccustomed fits of rage over it--was the Licenciado putting on the\nwrist of his wife a rich golden bracelet. When they saw him, Se\u00f1or,\ntheir faces at once went white--and their faces remained white always:\nbecause Don Alonso, before the blood could come back again, had killed\nthe two of them with his dagger--and they were white in death! Then\nDon Alonso did what gave to this street the name of the Street of the\nJewel. From Do\u00f1a Ysabel's wrist he wrenched loose the bracelet, and as\nhe left the house he pinned it fast with his bloody dagger to the\ndoor.\n\nIn that way things were found the next morning by the watch; and the\nwatch, suspecting that something wrong had happened--because to see a\nbracelet and a bloody dagger in such a place was unusual--called the\nAlcalde to come and look into the matter; and the Alcalde, coming,\nfound Do\u00f1a Ysabel and the Licenciado lying very dead upon the floor.\nSo the street was called the Calle de la Joya, and that is its name.\n\nDon Alonso, Se\u00f1or, was worried by what he had done, and became a\nDieguino--it is the strict order of the Franciscans. They go\nbarefoot--and it was in the convent of the Dieguinos, over there at\nthe western end of the Alameda, that he ended his days.\n\n\n\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLE DE LA MACHINCUEPA\n\n\nNaturally, Se\u00f1or, this matter which gave its name to the Calle de la\nMachincuepa created a scandal that set all the tongues in the City to\nbuzzing about it: every one, of course, blaming the young lady--even\nthough she did it to win such vast riches--for committing so publicly\nso great an impropriety; but some holding that a greater blame\nattached to the Marqu\u00e9s, her uncle, for punishing her--no matter how\nmuch she deserved punishment--by making her inheritance depend upon so\nstrange and so outrageous a condition; and some even saying that the\ngreatest blame of all rested upon the Viceroy: because he did not\nforbid an indecorum that was planned to--and that did--take place in\nthe Plaza Mayor directly in front of his Palace, and so beneath his\nvery nose. For myself, Se\u00f1or, I think that the young lady deserved\nmore blame than anybody: because she was free to make her own choice\nin the matter, and that she chose riches rather than propriety very\nclearly proved--though that, to be sure, was known before she did her\nchoosing--that she had a bad heart. As the Viceroy who did not forbid\nthat young lady to do what she did do was the Duque de Linares--who,\nas you know, Se\u00f1or, took up the duties of his high office in the year\n1714--you will perceive that the curious event about which I now am\ntelling you occurred very nearly two full centuries ago.\n\nAt that time there lived in the street that ever since that time has\nbeen called the Street of the Machincuepa a very rich and a very noble\nSpanish gentleman whose name was Don Mendo Quiroga y Saurez, and whose\ntitle was Marqu\u00e9s del Valle Salado. In his beginning he was neither\nrich nor noble, and not even of good blood: having been begotten by an\nunknown father and born of an unknown mother; and having in his young\nmanhood gone afloat out of Spain as a common sailor to seek his\nfortune on the sea. What he did upon the sea was a matter that his\nteeth guarded his tongue from talking about in his later years: but it\nwas known generally that--while in appearance he and his ship had been\nengaged in the respectable business of bringing slaves from Africa to\nthe colonies--his real business had been that of a corsair; and that\non his murdering piracies the corner-stone of his great fortune had\nbeen laid.\n\nHaving in that objectionable manner accumulated a whole ship-load of\nmoney, and being arrived at an age when so bustling a life was\ndistasteful to him, he came to Mexico; and, being come here, he bought\nwith his ship-load of money the Valle Salado: and there he set up\ngreat salt-works out of which he coined more gold--knowing well how to\ngrease the palms of those in the Government who could be of service to\nhim--than could be guessed at even in a dream. Therefore it was known\nwith certainty that he possessed a fortune of precisely three millions\nand a half of dollars--which is a greater sum, Se\u00f1or, than a hundred\nmen could count in a whole month of summer days. And of his millions\nhe sent to the King such magnificent presents that the King, in simple\njustice to him, had to reward him; and so the King made him a\nmarqu\u00e9s--and he was the Marqu\u00e9s del Valle Salado from that time on.\n\nTherefore--being so very rich, and a marqu\u00e9s--his sea-murderings of\nhis younger days, and his sea-stealings that made the corner-stone of\nhis great fortune, were the very last things which his teeth suffered\nhis tongue to talk about: and he lived with a great magnificence a\nlife that caused much scandal, and he was generally esteemed and\nrespected, and because of his charities he was beloved by all the\npoor.\n\nAs old age began to creep upon this good gentleman, Se\u00f1or, and with it\nthe infirmities that came of his loose way of living, he found himself\nin the world lonely: because, you see--never having perceived any\nnecessity for marrying--he had no wife to care for him, nor children\nwhose duty it was to minister to his needs. Therefore--his brother in\nSpain about that time dying, and leaving a daughter behind him--he\nbrought from Spain his dead brother's daughter, whom he put at the\nhead of his magnificent household, and equally confided himself in his\ninfirmity to her care. And, that she might be repaid for her care of\nhim, he heaped upon her every possible luxury and splendor that his\ngreat riches could procure.\n\nThe name of this young lady, Se\u00f1or, was Do\u00f1a Paz de Quiroga; and the\nposition to which she was raised by Don Mendo's munificence--and all\nthe more because she was raised to it from the depths of poverty--was\nvery much to her mind. Do\u00f1a Paz was of a great beauty that well became\nthe rich clothing and the rich jewels that her uncle lavished upon\nher; and what with her beauty, and her finery, and her recognized\nnobility as the lawful inheritor of her uncle's title, she knew\nherself to be--and made no bones of asserting herself to be--the very\ngreatest lady at the Viceroy's court. She was of a jealous and\nrancorous disposition, and very charitable, and excessively selfish,\nand her pride was beyond all words. Every one of the young men in the\nCity immediately fell in love with her; and she won also the respect\nof the most eminent clerics and the homage of the very greatest nobles\nof the court. So nice was her sense of her own dignity that even in\nthe privacy of her own household her conduct at all times was marked\nby a rigorous elegance; and in public she carried herself with a grave\nstateliness that would have befitted a queen.\n\nBut this young lady had a bad heart, Se\u00f1or, as I have already\nmentioned; and toward Don Mendo, to whom she owed everything, she did\nnot behave well at all. So far from ministering to him in his\ninfirmities, she left him wholly to the care of hired servants; when\nshe made her rare visits to his sick-room she carried always a scented\nkerchief, and held it to her nose closely--telling him that the smell\nof balsams and of plasters was distasteful to her; and never, by any\nchance whatever, did she give him one single kind look or kind word.\nAs was most natural, Don Mendo did not like the way that Do\u00f1a Paz\ntreated him: therefore, in the inside of him, he made his mind up that\nhe would pay her for it in the end. And in the end he did pay her for\nit: as she found out when, on a day, that worthy old man was called to\ngo to heaven and they came to read his will.\n\nDo\u00f1a Paz listened to the reading of the will with the greatest\nsatisfaction, Se\u00f1or, until the reading got to the very end of it:\nbecause Don Mendo uniformly styled her his beloved niece--which\nsomewhat surprised her--and in plain words directed that every one of\nhis three millions and a half of dollars should be hers. But at the\nvery end of the will a condition was made that had to be fulfilled\nbefore she could touch so much as a tlaco of her great inheritance:\nand that condition was so monstrous--and all the more monstrous\nbecause Do\u00f1a Paz was so rigorously elegant in all her doings, and so\nrespectful of her own dignity--that the mere naming of it almost\nsuffocated her with fright and shame.\n\nAnd, really, Se\u00f1or, that Do\u00f1a Paz felt that way about it is not be\nwondered at, because what Don Mendo put at the very end of his will\nwas this: \"So to Paz, my beloved niece, I leave the whole of my\npossessions; but only in case that she comply precisely with the\ncondition that I now lay upon her. And the condition that I now lay\nupon her is this: That, being dressed in her richest ball dress, and\nwearing her most magnificent jewels, she shall go in an open coach to\nthe Plaza Mayor at noonday; and that, being come to the Plaza Mayor,\nshe shall walk to the very middle of it; and that there, in the very\nmiddle of it, she shall bow her head to the ground; and that then, so\nbowing, she shall make the turn which among the common people of\nMexico is called a 'machincuepa.' And it is my will that if my\nbeloved niece Paz does not comply precisely with this condition,\nwithin six months from the day on which I pass out of life, then the\nwhole of my possessions shall be divided into two equal parts: of\nwhich one part shall belong to the Convent of Nuestra Se\u00f1ora de la\nMerced, and the other part shall belong to the Convent of San\nFrancisco; and of my possessions my beloved niece Paz shall have no\npart at all. And this condition I lay upon my beloved niece Paz that,\nin the bitterness of the shame of it, she may taste a little of the\nbitterness with which her cruelties have filled my dying years.\"\n\nWell, Se\u00f1or, you may fancy the state that that most proud and most\ndignified young lady was in when she knew the terms on which alone her\nriches would come to her! And as to making her mind up in such a case,\nshe found it quite impossible. On the one side, she would say to\nherself that what was required of her to win her inheritance would be\ndone, and done with, in no more than a moment; and that then and\nalways--being rich beyond dreaming, and in her own right a\nmarqu\u00e9sa--she would be the greatest lady in the whole of New Spain.\nAnd then, on the other side, she would say to herself that precisely\nbecause of her great wealth and her title she would be all the more\nsneered at for descending to an act so scandalous; and that if she did\ndescend to that act she would be known as the Marqu\u00e9sa de la\nMachincuepa to the end of her days. And what to do, Se\u00f1or, she did not\nknow at all. And as time went on and on, and she did not do anything,\nthe Mercedarios and the Franciscanos--being always more and more sure\nthat they would share between them Don Mendo's great fortune--talked\npleasantly about new altars in their churches and new comforts in\ntheir convents: and as they talked they rubbed their hands.\n\nAnd so it came to the very last day of the six months that Don Mendo\nhad given to Do\u00f1a Paz in which to make her mind up; and the morning\nhours of that day went slipping past, and of Do\u00f1a Paz the crowds that\nfilled the streets and the Plaza Mayor saw nothing; and the\nMercedarios and the Franciscanos all had smiling faces--being at last\nentirely certain that Don Mendo's millions of dollars would be\ntheirs.\n\nAnd then, Se\u00f1or, just as the Palace clock was striking the half hour\npast eleven, the great doors of Don Mendo's house were opened; and out\nthrough the doorway came an open coach in which Do\u00f1a Paz was seated,\ndressed in her richest ball dress and wearing the most magnificent of\nher jewels; and Do\u00f1a Paz, pale as a dead woman, drove through the\ncrowds on the streets and into the crowd on the Plaza Mayor; and then\nshe walked, the crowd making way for her, to the very middle of\nit--where her servants had laid a rich carpet for her; and there, as\nthe Palace clock struck twelve--complying precisely with Don Mendo's\ncondition--Do\u00f1a Paz bowed her head to the ground; and then, so bowing,\nshe made the turn which among the common people of Mexico is called a\nmachincuepa! So did Do\u00f1a Paz win for herself Don Mendo's millions of\ndollars: and so did come into the soul of her the bitterness of shame\nthat Don Mendo meant should come into it--in reward for the bitterness\nwith which her cruelties had filled his dying years!\n\nWhat became of this young lady--who so sacrificed propriety in order\nto gain riches--I never have heard mentioned: but it is certain that\nthe street in which she lived immediately got the name of the Street\nof the Machincuepa--and the exact truth of every detail of this\ncurious story is attested by the fact that that is its name now.\n\nPerhaps the meaning of this word machincuepa, Se\u00f1or--being, as Don\nMendo said in his will, a word in use among the common people of\nMexico--is unknown to you. The meaning of it, in good Spanish, is\nsalto mortal--only it means more. And it was precisely that sort of an\nexcessive somersault--there in the middle of the crowded Plaza Mayor\nat noonday--that the most proud and the most dignified Do\u00f1a Paz\nturned!\n\n\n\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLE DEL PUENTE DEL CUERVO\n\n\nAs you know, Se\u00f1or, in the street that is called the Street of the\nBridge of the Raven, there nowadays is no bridge at all; also, the\nhouse is gone in which this Don Rodrigo de Ballesteros lived with his\nraven in the days when he was alive. As to the raven, however, matters\nare less certain. My grand-father long ago told me that more than\nonce, on nights of storm, he had heard that evil bird uttering his\nwicked caws at midnight between the thunderclaps; and a most\nrespectable cargador of my acquaintance has given me his word for it\nthat he has heard those cawings too. Yet if they still go on it must\nbe the raven's spectre that gives voice to them; because, Se\u00f1or, while\nravens are very long-lived birds, it is improbable that they live--and\nthat much time has passed since these matters happened--through more\nthan the whole of three hundred years.\n\nThis Don Rodrigo in his youth, Se\u00f1or, was a Captain of Arcabuceros in\nthe Royal Army; and, it seems, he fought so well with his crossbowmen\nat the battle of San Quintin (what they were fighting about I do not\nknow) that the King of Spain rewarded him--when the fighting was all\nover and there was no more need for his services--by making him a\nroyal commissioner here in Mexico: that he might get rich comfortably\nin his declining years. It was the Encomienda of Atzcapotzalco that\nthe King gave to him; and in those days Atzcapotzalco was a very rich\nplace, quite away from the City westward, and yielded a great revenue\nfor Don Rodrigo to have the fingering of. Nowadays, as you know,\nSe\u00f1or, it is almost a part of the City, because you get to it in the\nelectric cars so quickly; and it has lost its good fortune and is but\na dreary little threadbare town.\n\nIt was with the moneys which stuck to his fingers from his\ncollectorship--just as the King meant that they should stick, in\nreward for his good fighting--that Don Rodrigo built for himself his\nfine house in the street that is now called, because of the bridge\nthat once was a part of it, and because of the raven's doings, the\nPuente del Cuervo. If that street had another name, earlier, Se\u00f1or, I\ndo not know what it was.\n\nThis Don Rodrigo, as was generally known, was a very wicked person;\nand therefore he lived in his fine house, along with his raven, in\ngreat magnificence--eating always from dishes of solid silver, and\nbeing served by pages wearing clothes embroidered with gold. But, for\nall his riches, he himself was clad as though he were a beggar--and a\nvery dirty beggar at that. Over his jerkin and breeches he wore a long\ncapellar that wrapped him from his neck to his heels loosely; and this\ncapellar had been worn by him through so many years that it was shabby\nbeyond all respectability, and stained with stains of all colors, and\neverywhere greasy and soiled. Yet on the front of it, upon his breast,\nhe wore the Cross of Santiago that the King had given him; and wearing\nthat cross, as you know, Se\u00f1or, made him as much of a caballero as the\nvery best. In various other ways the evil that was in him showed\nitself. He never went to mass, and he made fun openly of all holy\nthings. The suspicion was entertained by many people that he had\nintimacies with heretics. Such conduct gives a man a very bad name\nnow; but it gave a man a worse name then--and so he was known\ngenerally as the Excommunicate, which was the very worst name that\nanybody could have.\n\nAs to the raven, Se\u00f1or, Don Rodrigo himself named it El Diablo; and\nthat it truly was the devil--or, at least, that it was a devil--no one\never doubted at all. The conduct of that reprobate bird was most\noffensive. It would soil the rich furnishings of the house; it would\ntear with its beak the embroidered coverings of the chairs and the\nsilken tapestries; it would throw down and shatter valuable pieces of\nglass and porcelain; there was no end to its misdeeds. But when Don\nRodrigo stormed at his servants about these wreckings--and he was a\nmost violent man, Se\u00f1or, and used tempestuous language--the servants\nhad only to tell him that the raven was the guilty one to pacify him\ninstantly. \"If it is the work of the Devil,\" he would say without\nanger, \"it is well done!\"--and so the matter would pass.\n\nSuddenly, on a day, both Don Rodrigo and the raven disappeared. Their\ngoing, in that strange and sudden way, made a great commotion; but\nthere was a greater commotion when the Alcalde--being called to look\ninto the matter--entered the house to search it and found a very\nhorrible thing. In the room that had been Don Rodrigo's bedroom, lying\ndishonored upon the floor, broken and blood-spattered, was the most\nholy image; and all about it were lying raven feathers, and they also\nwere spattered with blood. Therefore it was known that the raven-devil\nand Don Rodrigo had beaten the holy image and had drawn blood from it;\nand that the great devil, the master of both of them, in penalty for\ntheir dreadful act of sacrilege, had snatched them suddenly home to\nhim to burn forever in hell. That was the very proper end of them.\nNever were they seen again either on sea or land.\n\nNaturally, Se\u00f1or, respectable people declined to live in a house where\nthere had been such shocking doings. Even the people living in the\nadjoining houses, feeling the disgrace that was on the neighborhood,\nmoved away from them. And so, slowly, as the years went on, all of\nthose houses crumbled to pieces and fell into ruins which were carted\naway--and that is why they no longer are there. But it is generally\nknown, Se\u00f1or, that until Don Rodrigo's house did in that way go out of\nexistence, Don Rodrigo continued to inhabit it; and that the raven\ncontinued to bear him company.\n\nJust a year from the time that the devil had snatched away to hell the\ntwo of them--and it was at midnight, and a storm was upon the\nCity--the neighbors heard between the thunder-claps the clock on the\nPalace striking its twelve strokes; and then, between the next\nthunder-claps, they heard the raven caw twelve times. Then it became\nknown that the raven nightly took up its post on the parapet of the\nbridge that was in that street; and that, when his cawing for midnight\nwas ended, he habitually flew up into the balcony of Don Rodrigo's\nhouse; and that on the balcony he found Don Rodrigo--a yellow\nskeleton, and over the bones of it the dirty old capellar--ready and\nwaiting for him. Don Rodrigo's skeleton would be sitting quite at its\nease on the balcony; on the railing of the balcony would be perched\nthe raven; and with his dry-bone fingers--making a little clicking\nsound, like that of castanets--Don Rodrigo would stroke gently the\nback of that intensely wicked bird. All this would show for a moment\nwhile the lightning was flashing; then darkness would come, and a\ncrash of thunder; and after the thunder, in the black silence, the\nlittle clicking sound of Don Rodrigo's dry-bone fingers stroking the\nraven's back gently again would be heard.\n\nAnd so it all went on, Se\u00f1or, my grandfather told me, until the house\ntumbled down with age, and these disagreeable horrors no longer were\npossible; and it is most reasonably evident--since the street got its\nname because of them--that they really must have happened, and that\nthey must have continued for a very long time.\n\nAs I have mentioned, Se\u00f1or, my friend the cargador--who is a most\nrespectable and truthful person--declares that sometimes on stormy\nnights he himself has heard the raven's cawings when the Palace clock\nhas finished its twelve strokes; and from that it would appear that\nthe raven is to be met with in the Puente del Cuervo even now.\n\n\n\n\n LEGEND OF LA LLORONA[9]\n\n\nAs is generally known, Se\u00f1or, many bad things are met with by night in\nthe streets of the City; but this Wailing Woman, La Llorona, is the\nvery worst of them all. She is worse by far than the vaca de\nlumbre--that at midnight comes forth from the potrero of San Pablo and\ngoes galloping through the streets like a blazing whirlwind, breathing\nforth from her nostrils smoke and sparks and flames: because the Fiery\nCow, Se\u00f1or, while a dangerous animal to look at, really does no harm\nwhatever--and La Llorona is as harmful as she can be!\n\nSeeing her walking quietly along the quiet street--at the times when\nshe is not running, and shrieking for her lost children--she seems a\nrespectable person, only odd looking because of her white petticoat\nand the white reboso with which her head is covered, and anybody might\nspeak to her. But whoever does speak to her, in that very same moment\ndies!\n\nThe beginning of her was so long ago that no one knows when was the\nbeginning of her; nor does any one know anything about her at all. But\nit is known certainly that at the beginning of her, when she was a\nliving woman, she committed bad sins. As soon as ever a child was born\nto her she would throw it into one of the canals which surround the\nCity, and so would drown it; and she had a great many children, and\nthis practice in regard to them she continued for a long time. At last\nher conscience began to prick her about what she did with her\nchildren; but whether it was that the priest spoke to her, or that\nsome of the saints cautioned her in the matter, no one knows. But it\nis certain that because of her sinnings she began to go through the\nstreets in the darkness weeping and wailing. And presently it was said\nthat from night till morning there was a wailing woman in the streets;\nand to see her, being in terror of her, many people went forth at\nmidnight; but none did see her, because she could be seen only when\nthe street was deserted and she was alone.\n\nSometimes she would come to a sleeping watchman, and would waken him\nby asking: \"What time is it?\" And he would see a woman clad in white\nstanding beside him with her reboso drawn over her face. And he would\nanswer: \"It is twelve hours of the night.\" And she would say: \"At\ntwelve hours of this day I must be in Guadalajara!\"--or it might be in\nSan Luis Potos\u00ed, or in some other far-distant city--and, so speaking,\nshe would shriek bitterly: \"Where shall I find my children?\"--and\nwould vanish instantly and utterly away. And the watchman would feel\nas though all his senses had gone from him, and would become as a dead\nman. This happened many times to many watchmen, who made report of it\nto their officers; but their officers would not believe what they\ntold. But it happened, on a night, that an officer of the watch was\npassing by the lonely street beside the church of Santa Anita. And\nthere he met with a woman wearing a white reboso and a white\npetticoat; and to her he began to make love. He urged her, saying:\n\"Throw off your reboso that I may see your pretty face!\" And suddenly\nshe uncovered her face--and what he beheld was a bare grinning skull\nset fast to the bare bones of a skeleton! And while he looked at her,\nbeing in horror, there came from her fleshless jaws an icy breath; and\nthe iciness of it froze the very heart's blood in him, and he fell to\nthe earth heavily in a deathly swoon. When his senses came back to him\nhe was greatly troubled. In fear he returned to the Diputacion, and\nthere told what had befallen him. And in a little while his life\nforsook him and he died.\n\nWhat is most wonderful about this Wailing Woman, Se\u00f1or, is that she is\nseen in the same moment by different people in places widely apart:\none seeing her hurrying across the atrium of the Cathedral; another\nbeside the Arcos de San Cosme; and yet another near the Salto del\nAgua, over by the prison of Belen. More than that, in one single night\nshe will be seen in Monterey and in Oaxaca and in Acapulco--the whole\nwidth and length of the land apart--and whoever speaks with her in\nthose far cities, as here in Mexico, immediately dies in fright. Also,\nshe is seen at times in the country. Once some travellers coming along\na lonely road met with her, and asked: \"Where go you on this lonely\nroad?\" And for answer she cried: \"Where shall I find my children?\"\nand, shrieking, disappeared. And one of the travellers went mad.\nBeing come here to the City they told what they had seen; and were\ntold that this same Wailing Woman had maddened or killed many people\nhere also.\n\nBecause the Wailing Woman is so generally known, Se\u00f1or, and so greatly\nfeared, few people now stop her when they meet with her to speak with\nher--therefore few now die of her, and that is fortunate. But her loud\nkeen wailings, and the sound of her running feet, are heard often; and\nespecially in nights of storm. I myself, Se\u00f1or, have heard the running\nof her feet and her wailings; but I never have seen her. God forbid\nthat I ever shall!\n\n\n\n\n NOTES\n\n\n\n\n NOTE I\n\n LEGEND OF DON JUAN MANUEL\n\n\nDon Juan Manuel was a real person: who lived stately in a great house,\nstill standing, in the street that in his time was called the Calle\nNueva, and that since his time has borne his name; who certainly did\nmurder one man--in that house, not in the street--at about, probably,\neleven o'clock at night; and who certainly was found hanging dead on\nthe gallows in front of the Capilla de la Espiraci\u00f3n, of an October\nmorning in the year 1641, without any explanation ever being\nforthcoming of how he got there. What survive of the tangled curious\nfacts on which the fancies of this legend rest have been collected by\nSe\u00f1or Obreg\u00f3n, and here are summarized.\n\nDon Juan Manuel de Sol\u00f3rzano, a native of Burgos, a man of rank and\nwealth, in the year 1623 came in the train of the Viceroy the Marqu\u00e9s\nde Guadalc\u00e1zar to Mexico; where for a long while he seems to have led\na life prosperous and respectable. In the year 1636 he increased his\nfortune by making an excellent marriage--with Do\u00f1a Mariana de Laguna,\nthe daughter of a rich mine-owner of Zacatecas. His troubles had their\nbeginning in an intimate friendship that he formed with the Viceroy\n(1635-1640) the Marqu\u00e9s de Cadereita; a friendship of so practical a\nsort on the side of the Viceroy as to cause remonstrance to be made in\nSpain against his excessive bestowal of official favors on his\nfavorite. Moreover, \"the evil speaking of the curious\" was excited by\nthe fact that Don Juan and his wife spent a great part of their time\nat the Palace in the Viceroy's company.\n\nMatters were brought to a crisis by Don Juan's appointment as\nAdministrator of the Royal Hacienda; an office that gave him control\nof the great revenues derived from the fleets which plied annually\nbetween Mexico and Spain. The conduct of this very lucrative\nadministration previously had been with the Audiencia; and by the\nmembers of that body vigorous protest was made against the Viceroy's\naction in enriching his favorite at their cost. \"Odious gossip\" was\naroused; threats were made of a popular uprising; an appeal--duly\nfreighted with bribes to assure its arrival at the throne--was made to\nthe King. \"But the springs put in force by the Viceroy must have been\nvery powerful--more powerful than the money sent by the\nAudiencia--since Philip IV. confirmed Don Juan in the enjoyment of his\nconcession.\"\n\n[Illustration: HOUSE OF DON JUAN MANUEL]\n\nWhile the case thus rested, an incidental scandal was introduced into\nit. By the fleet from Spain came one Do\u00f1a Ana Porcel de Velasco: a\nlady of good birth, very beautiful, the widow of a naval officer,\nreduced by her widowhood and by other misfortunes to poverty. In her\nhappier days she had been a beauty at Court, and there the Marqu\u00e9s de\nCadereita had known her and had made suit to her, wherefore she had\ncome to Mexico to seek his Viceregal protection. Housing her in the\nPalace being out of the question, the Viceroy begged that Don Juan\nwould take her into his own home: and that disposition of her,\naccordingly, was made--with the result that more \"odious gossip\"\nwas aroused. What became of the beautiful Do\u00f1a Ana is unrecorded. Her\nepisodic existence in the story seems to be due to the fact that\nbecause of her the popular ill-will against Don Juan and against the\nViceroy was increased.\n\nA far-reaching ripple from the wave of the Portuguese and Catalonian\nrevolt of the year 1640, influencing affairs in Mexico, gave\nopportunity for this ill-will to crystallize into action of so\neffective a sort that the Viceroy was recalled, and his favorite--no\nlonger under protection--was cast into prison. Don Juan's\ncommitment--the specific charge against him is not recorded--was\nsigned by one Don Francisco V\u00e9lez de Pereira: who, as Se\u00f1or Obreg\u00f3n\nputs it, \"was not only a Judge of the criminal court but a criminal\nJudge\" (_no era solamente un Alcalde del cr\u00edmen sino un Alcalde\ncriminal_) because he made dishonest proposals to Do\u00f1a Mariana as the\nprice of her husband's liberation. It would seem that Do\u00f1a Mariana\naccepted the offered terms; and in so grateful a spirit that she was\ncontent to wait upon the Alcalde's pleasure for their complete\nratification by Don Juan's deliverance. Pending such liquidation of\nthe contract, news was carried to Don Juan in prison of the irregular\nnegotiations in progress to procure his freedom: whereupon he procured\nit for himself, one night, by breaking jail. Going straight to his own\nhome, he found there the Alcalde--and incontinently killed him.\n\nThat one killing that Don Juan Manuel certainly did commit--out of\nwhich, probably, has come the legend of his many murders--created,\nbecause of the high estate of all concerned in it, a deplorable\nscandal: that the Audiencia--while resolved to bring Don Juan to\njustice--sought to allay by hushing up, so far as was possible, the\nwhole affair. The Duque de Escalona, the new Viceroy (1640-1642), was\nat one with the Audiencia in its hushing-up policy; but was\ndetermined--for reasons of his own which are unrecorded--that Don Juan\nshould not be executed. So, for a considerable period of time, during\nwhich Don Juan remained in prison, the matter rested. The event seems\nto imply that the Audiencia accomplished its stern purpose, as opposed\nto the lenient purpose of the Viceroy, by means as informal as they\nwere effective. Certainly, on a morning in October, 1641, precisely as\ndescribed in the legend, Don Juan Manuel was found hanging dead on the\ngallows in front of the Capilla de la Espiraci\u00f3n. Se\u00f1or Obreg\u00f3n\nconcludes the historical portion of his narrative in these words: \"The\nOidores, whose orders it is reasonable to suppose brought about that\ndark deed, attributed it to the angels--but there history ends and\nlegend begins.\"\n\n[Illustration: DOORWAY, HOUSE OF DON JUAN MANUEL]\n\nSomewhere in the course of my readings--I cannot remember where--I\nhave come upon the seriously made suggestion that Don Juan Manuel\npractically was a bravo: that the favors which he received from the\nViceroy were his payment for putting politically obnoxious persons out\nof the way. This specious explanation does account for his traditional\nmany murders, but is not in accord with probability. Aside from the\nfact that bravos rarely are men of rank and wealth, a series of\nmurders traceable to political motives during the Viceregal term of\nthe Marqu\u00e9s de Cadereita--whose many enemies keenly were alive to his\nmisdoings--almost certainly would be found, but is not found,\nrecorded in the chronicles of his time. Such omission effectively puts\nthis picturesque explanation of Don Juan's doings out of court.\n\n\n\n\n NOTE II\n\n LEGEND OF THE ALTAR DEL PERDON\n\n\nSimon Peyrens, a Flemish painter, came to Mexico in the suite of the\nthird Viceroy (1566-1568) Don Gast\u00f3n de Peralta, Marqu\u00e9s de Falces. If\nhe painted--and, presumably, he did paint--a Virgin of Mercy for the\nAltar del Perdon, his picture has disappeared: doubtless having been\nremoved from the altar when the present Cathedral (begun, 1573;\ndedicated, though then incomplete, 1656) replaced the primitive\nstructure erected a few years after the Conquest. The Virgin of the\nCandelaria on the existing Altar del Perdon was painted by Baltasar de\nEchave, the Elder; a Spanish artist of eminence who came to Mexico\nabout the end of the sixteenth century. Peyrens certainly had the\nopportunity to do his work under conditions akin to, but decidedly\nmore unpleasant than, those set forth in the legend: as Se\u00f1or Obreg\u00f3n\nhas made clear by producing facts which exhibit the afflictions of\nthat unfortunate artist; and which also, incidentally, account for the\nappearance in Mexico of a miracle-story that in varying forms is found\nin the saintly chronicles of many lands.\n\nSe\u00f1or Obreg\u00f3n's source is an original document of the time of Fray\nAlonso de Mont\u00fafar; a Dominican brother who was the second Archbishop\nof Mexico (1554-1572), and who also held the office of Inquisitor--in\naccordance with the custom that obtained until the formal\nestablishment (1571) of the Inquisition in Mexico. It was before him,\ntherefore, as represented by his Provisor, that the case of Peyrens\nwas brought.\n\nAs stated in this document, Peyrens had declared in familiar talk with\nfriends that simple incontinence was not a sin; and he farther had\ndeclared that he liked to paint portraits, and that he did not like\nto, and would not, paint saints nor pictures of a devotional sort. His\nfriends admonished him that his views in regard to incontinence made\nhim liable to arraignment before the ecclesiastical authorities;\nwhereupon--seemingly seeking, as a measure of prudence, to forestall\nby his own confession any charge that might be brought against him--he\n\"denounced himself,\" on September 10, 1568, to Fray Bartolom\u00e9 de Ledesma,\nGobernador de la Mitra. As the result of his confession--instead\nof being granted the absolution that he obviously expected to\nreceive--he was arrested and cast into prison.\n\nFour days later, September 14th, he was examined formally. To the\nquestions propounded to him, he replied, in substance: That he had\nbeen born in Antwerp, the son of Fero Peyrens and of Constanza Lira\nhis wife; that he was not of Jewish descent; that none of his family\nhad been dealt with by the Inquisition; that in his early manhood he\nhad gone to Lisbon and later to Toledo, where the Court then was\nseated, to practice his profession as a painter; that he had come to\nNew Spain, in the suite of the Viceroy, in the hope of bettering his\nfortunes. In regard to the charges against him, he explained: That\nwhat he had said about the sinlessness of simple incontinence had been\nspoken lightly in friendly talk, and, moreover, very well might have\nbeen misunderstood because of his imperfect knowledge of the Spanish\ntongue; and that what he had said about liking to paint portraits and\nnot being willing to paint saints had been said only because\nportrait-painting was the better paid. His trial followed: at which\nnothing more was produced against him--although a number of witnesses,\nincluding \"many painters,\" were interrogated--than the facts brought\nout in his own examination.\n\nIn order to force from Peyrens himself a fuller and more incriminating\nconfession, the Provisor, Don Est\u00e9ban de Portillo, ordered that he\nshould be \"submitted to the test of torture.\" This test was applied on\nDecember 1st--when Peyrens \"supported three turns of the rack and\nswallowed three jars of water dripped into his mouth by a linen rag,\"\nwithout modifying or enlarging his previous declarations. By the rules\nof the game--he having, in the jargon of the Inquisition, \"conquered\nhis torment\"--the proceedings against him then should have ended. Mr.\nLea, commenting on his case (\"The Inquisition in the Spanish\nDependencies,\" p. 198), writes: \"This ought to have earned his\ndismissal, but on December 4th he was condemned to pay the costs of\nhis trial and to give security that he would not leave the City until\nhe should have painted a picture of Our Lady of Merced, as an\naltar-piece for the church. He complied, and it was duly hung in the\nCathedral.\"\n\nI have not found--seemingly, Mr. Lea did find--a record of the actual\npainting of the picture. The sentence passed on Peyrens is given in\nfull by Se\u00f1or Obreg\u00f3n--in archaic Spanish, whereof much of the queer\nflavor evaporates in translation--and is as follows:\n\n \"In the criminal plea now pending before me, preferred by the\n Holy Office against simon peireins fleming held in the prison\n of this Arcobispado in regard to the words which the said simon\n peireins spoke and on which he has been prosecuted, on the acts\n and merits of this case it is found that for the crime\n committed by simon peyrens using him with equity and mercy I\n condemn him to paint at his own cost an altar-piece (retablo)\n of our lady of mercy for this holy church [the Cathedral] very\n devout and to me pleasing, and that in the interim while he is\n painting this altar-piece he shall not leave this city under\n penalty of being punished with all rigor as one disobedient to\n the mandates of the holy office, and I admonish and command the\n said simon peireins that from this time forth he shall not\n speak such words as those for the speaking of which he has been\n arrested nor shall he question any matters touching our holy\n catholic faith under penalty of being rigorously punished and\n in addition I condemn him to pay the costs of this trial, and\n this is my definitive sentence so judging and I pronounce and\n order it in and by this writing\n\n El D^{or} Estevan de Portillo\n\n * * * * *\n\n \"In Mexico the fourth of december of the year one thousand\n five hundred and sixty eight was given and pronounced this\n definitive sentence of the above tenor by the aforesaid sor\n doctor barbosa (_sic_) provisor and vicar general of this\n Archbishopric of Mexico in the presence of me joan de avenda\u00f1o\n apostolic notary public and of the audiencia of this\n Archbishopric of mexico witnesses el bachiller villagomez and\n juan vergara\n\n johan de avenda\u00f1o\"\n\nThe ancient record ends with the statement that this sentence was\ncommunicated to Peyrens on the day that it was pronounced, and that he\n\"consented and did consent\" with it--_y dixo que consent\u00eda y\nconsenti\u00f3_.\n\n\n\n\n NOTE III\n\n LEGEND OF THE ADUANA DE STO. DOMINGO\n\n\nCarved over an arch half-way up the main stairway of the\nex-Aduana--the building no longer is used as a custom-house--still may\nbe read Don Juan's acrostic inscription that sets forth the initials\nof Do\u00f1a Sara de Garc\u00eda Somera y Acu\u00f1a, the lady for whom he so\nfuriously toiled:\n\n Siendo prior del Consulado el coronel D^n Juan Gutierrez Rubin\n de Celis, caballero del Orden de S^ntiago, y consules D^n\n Garza de Alvarado del mismo Orden, y D^n Lucas Serafin Chacon,\n se acab\u00f3 la fabrica de esta Aduana en 28 de Junio de 1731.\n\n\n\n\n NOTE IV\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLE DE LA CRUZ VERDE\n\n\nSe\u00f1or Arellano has documented the legend of the Green Cross by adding\nto his sympathetic version of it the following note: \"Some years ago I\nsaw in either the church of San Miguel or the church of San Pablo, set\naside in a corner, a bronze tablet that once had rested upon a tomb.\nOn it was the inscription, 'Do\u00f1a Mar\u00eda de Aldarafuente Lara y Segura\nde Manrique. Agosto 11 de 1573 a\u00f1os. R.I.P.'; and beneath the\ninscription was a large Latin cross. Probably the tablet was melted\nup. When I went to look for it, later, it was not to be found.\"\n\nThis record testifies to the truth of the pretty legend to the extent\nthat it proves that the hero and the heroine of it were real people,\nand that their wedding really took place; and it also testifies to the\nmelancholy fact--since Don Alvaro came to Mexico in the train of the\nViceroy Don Gast\u00f3n de Peralta, whose entry into the Capital was made\non September 17, 1566--that their wedded life lasted less than seven\nyears. The once stately but now shabby house whereon the cross is\ncarved is in what anciently was a dignified quarter of the City; and\nthe niche for a saint, vacant now, above the cross is one of the\ncharacteristics of the old houses in which people of condition lived.\nThe cross is unique. No other house in the City is ornamented in this\nway.\n\n\n\n\n NOTE V\n\n LEGEND OF THE MUJER HERRADA\n\n\nDoubtless this legend has for its foundation an ancient real scandal:\nthat--being too notorious to be hushed up--of set purpose was given to\nthe public in a highly edifying way. Certainly, the story seems to\nhave been put in shape by the clerics--the class most interested in\nchecking such open abuses--with the view of driving home a deterrent\nmoral by exhibiting so exemplary a punishment of sin.\n\nSubstantially as in the popular version that I have used in my text,\nDon Francisco Sedano (circa 1760) tells the story in his delightful\n\"Noticias de M\u00e9xico\"--a gossiping chronicle that, on the dual ground\nof kindly credulity and genial inaccuracy, cannot be commended in too\nwarm terms.\n\n\"In the years 1670-1680, as I have verified,\" Sedano writes, \"there\nhappened in this City of Mexico a formidable and fearful matter\"; and\nwithout farther prelude he tells the story practically as I have told\nit, but in much plainer language, until he reaches the climax: when\nthe priest and the blacksmith try to awaken the woman that she may\nenjoy the joke with them. Thence he continues: \"When a second call\nfailed to arouse her they looked at her more closely, and found that\nshe was dead; and then, examining her still more closely, they found\nnailed fast to her hands and to her feet the four iron shoes. Then\nthey knew that divine justice thus had afflicted her, and that the two\nblacks were demons. Being overcome with horror, and not knowing what\ncourse to follow in a situation so terrible, they agreed to go\ntogether for counsel to Dr. Don Francisco Ortiz, cura of the parish\nchurch of Santa Catarina; and him they brought back with them. On\ntheir return, they found already in the house Father Jos\u00e9 Vidal, of\nthe Company of Jesus, and with him a Carmelite monk who also had been\nsummoned. [By whom summoned is not told.] All of them together\nexamining the woman, they saw that she had a bit in her mouth [the\niron shoes on her hands and feet are not mentioned] and that on her\nbody were the welts left by the blows which the demons had given her\nwhen they took her to be shod in the form of a mule. The three\naforesaid [the Cura, Father Vidal, and the Carmelite] then agreed that\nthe woman should be buried in a pit, that they then dug, within the\nhouse; and that upon all concerned in the matter should be enjoined\nsecrecy. The terrified priest, trembling with fear, declared that he\nwould change his life--and so left the house, and never appeared\nagain.\"\n\nSedano documents the story with facts concerning the reputable clerics\nconcerned in it, writing: \"Dr. Ortiz, cura de Santa Catarina, being\ninternally moved [by what he had seen] to enter into religion, entered\nthe Company of Jesus; wherein he continued, greatly esteemed and\nrespected, until his death at the age of eighty-four years. He\nreferred always to this case with amazement. A memoir of Father Jos\u00e9\nVidal, celebrated for his virtues and for his preaching, was written\nby Father Juan Antonio de Oviedo, of the Company of Jesus, and was\nprinted in the College of San Yldefonso in the year 1752. In that\nmemoir, chapter viii, p. 41, this case is mentioned; a record of it\nhaving been found among the papers of Father Vidal.\" Sedano adds that\nhe himself heard the case referred to in a Lenten sermon preached by a\nJesuit Father in the church of the Profesa in the year 1760.\n\n[Illustration: NO. 7 PUERTA FALSA DE SANTO DOMINGO]\n\nSedano farther writes: \"In the Calle de las Rejas de la Balvanera is a\ncasa de vecindad [tenement house] that formerly was called the Casa\ndel Pujabante: because a pujabante and tenazos [farrier's knife and\npincers] were carved on the stone lintel of the doorway. This carving\nI have seen many times. It was said to mark the house in which the\nblacksmith lived, in memory of the shoeing of the woman there. The\nhouse [the site is that of the present No. 5] has been repaired and\nthe carving has been obliterated. In the street of the Puerta Falsa de\nSanto Domingo, along the middle of which anciently ran a ditch, facing\nthe Puerta Falsa, was an old tumble-down house [the site is that of\nthe present No. 7] wherein lived, as I was told by an antiquarian\nfriend, the priest and the woman. This is probable: because Father\nVidal tells that the house was near the parish church of Santa\nCatarina; and for that reason Dr. Ortiz, the cura of that church,\nwould be likely to make notes of an occurrence in his own parish.\"\n\n\n\n\n NOTE VI\n\n LEGEND OF THE ACCURSED BELL\n\n\nThis legend affords an interesting example of folk-growth. As told by\nSe\u00f1or Obreg\u00f3n, the story simply is of a church bell \"in a little town\nin Spain\" that, being possessed by a devil, rang in an unseemly\nfashion without human aid; and for that sin was condemned to have its\ntongue torn out and to be banished to Mexico. As told by Se\u00f1or\nArellano, the story begins with armor that was devil-possessed because\nworn by the devil-possessed Gil de Marcadante. This armor is recast\ninto a cross wherein the devils are held prisoners and harmless; the\ncross is recast into a bell of which the loosed devils have\npossession--and from that point the story goes on as before. As told\nin verse by Se\u00f1or Juan de Dios Peza, the armor is devil-forged to\nstart with; and is charged still more strongly with devilishness by\nbeing worn in succession by an Infidel and by a wicked feudal lord\nbefore it comes to Gil de Marcadante--from whose possession of it the\nstory continues as before.\n\nA fourth, wholly Spanish, version of this legend is found in Becquer's\n_La Cruz del Diablo_. In this version the armor belongs in the\nbeginning to one Se\u00f1or del Segre, whose cruelties lead to a revolt of\nhis vassals that ends in his death and in the burning of his\ncastle--amid the ruins of which the armor remains hanging on a\nfire-blackened pillar. In time, bandits make their lair in the ruined\ncastle. While a hot dispute over their leadership is in progress among\nthem the armor detaches itself from the pillar and stalks into the\nmidst of the wrangling company. From behind the closed visor a voice\ndeclares that their leader is found. Under that leadership the bandits\ncommit all manner of atrocities. Again the country folk rally to fight\nfor their lives. Many of the bandits are killed, but the leader is\nscatheless. Swords and lances pass through the armor without injuring\nhim. In the blaze of burning dwellings the armor becomes white-hot,\nbut he is unharmed. A wise hermit counsels exorcism. With this\nspiritual weapon the devil-leader is overcome and captured; and within\nthe armor they find--nothing at all! In true folk-story fashion the\nnarrative rambles on with details of the escape and recapture of the\ndevil-armor \"a hundred times.\" In the end, following again the wise\nhermit's counsel, the armor is cast into a furnace; and then, being\nmelted, is refounded--to the accompaniment of diabolical shrieks and\ngroans of agony--into a cross. A curious and distinctive feature of\nthis version is that the devils imprisoned in the cross retain their\npower for evil. Prayers made before that cross bring down curses;\ncriminals resort to it; in its neighborhood is peril of death by\nviolence to honest men. So leaving the matter, Becquer's story ends.\nThe scene of these marvels is the town of Bellver, on the river Segre,\nclose under the southern slope of the Pyrenees.[10]\n\nSe\u00f1or Obreg\u00f3n gives what is known of the bell's history in Mexico. It\nwas of \"medium size\"; the hanger in the shape of an imperial crown\nsupported by two lions; on one side, in relief, the two-headed eagle\nholding in its talons the arms of Austria; on the other side a\nCalvario--Christ, St. John, the Virgin; near the lip, the words \"Salve\nRegina,\" and the legend: \"Maese Rodrigo me fecit 1530.\" From the\nunknown time of its arrival in Mexico until the last quarter of the\neighteenth century it reposed idly in one of the corridors of the\nPalace. There it was found by the Viceroy (1789-1794) the Conde de\nRevillagigedo; and by that very energetic personage, to whom idleness\nof any sort was abhorrent, promptly was set to work. In accordance\nwith his orders, it was hung in a bell-gable, over the central doorway\nof the Palace, directly above the clock; and in that position it\nremained, very honestly doing its duty as a clock-bell, for more than\nseventy years. During the period of the French intervention, in\nDecember, 1867, a new bell was installed in place of it and orders\nwere given that it should be melted down--possibly, though Se\u00f1or\nObreg\u00f3n gives no information on this point, to be recast into cannon,\nalong with the many church bells that went that way in Mexico at about\nthat time. Whatever may have been planned in regard to its\ntransmutation did not come off--because the liquid metal became\nrefractory and could not be recast. As this curious statement of fact\nhas an exceptional interest in the case of a bell with so bad a\nrecord, I repeat it in Se\u00f1or Obreg\u00f3n's own words: \"_Entonces se mand\u00f3\nfundirla; mas al verificarlo se descompuso el metal!_\"\n\n\n\n\n NOTE VII\n\n LEGEND OF THE CALLEJ\u00d3N DEL PADRE LECUONA\n\n\nBy a natural confusion of the name of the street in which the dead man\nwas confessed with the name of the priest who heard his confession,\nthis legend frequently is told nowadays as relating not to Padre Lanza\nbut to Padre Lecuona. An old man whom I met in the Callej\u00f3n del Padre\nLecuona, when I was making search for the scene of the confession,\ntold me the story in that way--and pointed out the house to me in all\nsincerity. Following that telling, I so mixed the matter myself in my\nfirst publication of the legend. Who Padre Lecuona was, or why the\nstreet was named after him, I have not discovered. Probably still\nanother legend lurks there. Se\u00f1or Riva Palacio tells the story as of\nan unnamed friar \"whom God now holds in his glory,\" and assigns it to\nthe year 1731. The motive of the story is found in Spain long\nbefore the oldest date assigned to it in Mexico. The wicked hero of\nCalderon's play, _La devocion de la Cruz_, is permitted to purge his\nsinful soul by confession after death. The Padre Lanza whose name has\nbeen tacked fast to the story--probably because his well-known\ncharitable ministrations to the poor made him a likely person to yield\nto the old woman's importunities--was a real man who lived in the City\nof Mexico, greatly loved and respected, in the early years of the\nnineteenth century. Se\u00f1or Roa B\u00e1rcena fixes the decade 1820-1830 as\nthe date of his strange adventure with a dead body in which was a\nliving soul.\n\n[Illustration: WHERE THE DEAD MAN WAS CONFESSED]\n\nAside from minor variants, two distinct versions of this legend are\ncurrent. That which I have given in my text is the more popular. The\nother, less widely known, has for its scene an old house in the Calle\nde Olmedo--nearly a mile away from the Callej\u00f3n del Padre Lecuona, and\nin a far more ancient quarter of the City. Concisely stated, the Calle\nde Olmedo version is to this effect:\n\nBrother Mendo, a worthy and kind-hearted friar, is met of a dark night\nin the street by a man who begs him to come and hear a dying person\nconfess. The friar wears the habit of his Order, and from his girdle\nhangs his rosary. He is led to a house near by; and finds within the\nhouse a very beautiful woman, richly clad in silks, whose arms are\nbound. That she is not in a dying state is obvious, and the friar asks\nfor an explanation. For answer, the man tells him roughly: \"This woman\nis about to die by violence. I must give her death. As you please,\nwash clean her sinful soul--or leave it foul!\" At that, he yields, and\nher confession begins. It is so prolonged that the man, losing\npatience, ends it abruptly by thrusting forth the friar from the\nhouse. Through the closed door he hears shrieks and tries to re-enter;\nbut the door remains closed firmly, and his knocking is unheeded. He\nfinds that his rosary no longer is at his girdle. In order to recover\nit, and to allay his fears for the woman's safety, he calls a watchman\nto aid him by demanding in the name of the law that the door shall be\nopened. No response is made from within to their violent knocking; and\nan old woman, aroused by it, comes out from a nearby dwelling and\ntells them that knocking there is useless--that through all her long\nlifetime she has lived beside that house, and that never through all\nher long lifetime has that house been inhabited. The watchman--holding\nhis lantern close to the door, and so perceiving that what she tells\nis verified by the caked dust that fills its crevices and that clogs\nits key-hole--is for abandoning their attempt to enter. The friar\ninsists that they must enter: that his rosary is within the house;\nthat he is determined to recover it; that the door must be forced.\nYielding to him, the watchman forces the door and together they enter:\nto find a yellowed skeleton upon the floor; scattered around it scraps\nof mouldering silk; in the eye-sockets of the skull cobwebs--and lying\nacross that yellowed skeleton is the friar's rosary! Brother Mendo\ncovers his face with his hands, totters for a moment, and then falls\ndying as he exclaims in horror: \"Holy God! I have confessed a soul\nfrom the other life!\" And the crowd of neighbors, by that time\nassembled, cries out: \"Brother Mendo is dead because he has confessed\nthe dead!\"\n\n\n\n\n NOTE VIII\n\n LEGEND OF THE LIVING SPECTRE\n\n\nThe theme of this legend--the transportation by supernatural means of\na living person from one part of the world to another--is among the\nmost widely distributed of folk-story motives. In _The Arabian\nNights_--to name an easily accessible work of reference--it is found\nrepeatedly in varying forms. In Irving's _Alhambra_ a version of it is\ngiven--\"Governor Manco and the Old Soldier\"--that has a suggestive\nresemblance to the version of my text. Distinction is given to the Mexican\nstory, however, by its presentment by serious historians in association\nwith, and as an incident of, an otherwise well-authenticated historical\ntragedy.\n\nThat Don G\u00f3mez P\u00e9rez Dasmari\u00f1as, Governor of the Filipinas, did have\nhis head badly split open, and died of it, in the Molucca Islands, on\nthe 25th of October in the year 1593, and that on that same day\nannouncement of his so-painful ending was made in the City of Mexico,\nare statements of natural and of supernatural fact which equally rest\nupon authority the most respectable: as appears from Se\u00f1or Obreg\u00f3n's\ndocumentation of the legend, that I here present in a condensed form.\n\nGuarded testimony in support of the essential marvel of the story is\nfound in a grave historical work of the period, _Sucesos de las Islas\nFilipinas_, written by the learned Dr. Antonio de Morga, a Judge of\nthe Criminal Court of the Royal Audiencia and sometime legal adviser\n(_consultor_) to the Holy Office in New Spain. This eminent personage\nnotes as a curious fact that the news of the murder of Don G\u00f3mez P\u00e9rez\nDasmari\u00f1as was known on the Plaza Mayor of the City of Mexico on the\nvery day that the murder occurred; but adds--his legal caution\nseemingly disposing him to hedge a little--that he is ignorant of the\nmeans by which the news was brought.\n\nWithout any hedging whatever, Fray Gaspar de San Agustin, in his\n_Conquista de las Islas Philipinas_ (Madrid, 1698), tells the whole\nstory in a whole-hearted way. According to Fray Gaspar, there arrived\nin Manila about the year 1593, Don G\u00f3mez P\u00e9rez Dasmari\u00f1as being at\nthat time Governor, ambassadors sent by the King of Cambodia--one of\nthem a Portuguese named Diego Belloso, and the other a Spaniard named\nAntonio Barrientes--whose mission was to ask the assistance of the\nSpaniards in repelling an invasion of Cambodia, then threatened by the\nKing of Siam. As a present from the King to the Governor, the embassy\nbrought \"two beautiful elephants (_dos hermosos elefantes_), which\nwere the first ever seen in Manila.\"\n\nDon G\u00f3mez P\u00e9rez promised readily the assistance asked for; but with\nthe intention of using a pretended expedition to Cambodia as a cloak\nfor a real expedition to seize the Moluccas. To this end he assembled\nan armada, made up of four galleys and of attendant smaller vessels,\non which he embarked a considerable military force; and, along with\nthe soldiers, certain \"notable persons and venerable religious.\" His\npreparations being completed, he sailed from Manila on October 17,\n1593. A week later, the capitana galley, having on board the Governor,\nwas separated from the fleet by a storm and was driven to take shelter\nin the harbor of Punta de Azufre: to make which haven the two hundred\nand fifty Chinese rowers were kept at their work with so cruel a\nrigor, the climax of other cruelties, that they determined to mutiny.\nAccordingly, on the night of their arrival, October 25th, \"putting on\nwhite tunics that they might know each other in the darkness,\" they\nrose against the Spaniards and murdered every one of them--the\nGovernor, as he came forth from his cabin, having \"his head half split\nopen\"--and tossed their dead bodies overboard into the sea.\n\nFray Gaspar points out that Don G\u00f3mez P\u00e9rez came to that bad end as a\njust reward from heaven, because on various occasions he arrogantly\nhad \"contended and disputed\" with the Bishop of the Filipinas; and in\nsupport of this view of the matter he declares that the Governor's\ndeserved murder \"was announced in Manila and in Mexico by supernatural\nsigns.\" In Manila the announcement was symbolical: \"On the very day of\nhis killing there opened in the wall [of the Convent of San Agustin]\non which his portrait was painted a crack that corresponded precisely\nwith the splitting of his skull.\" Of the other announcement, that\ndescribed in the legend, he writes in these assured terms: \"It is\nworthy of deep ponderation that on the very same day on which took\nplace the tragedy of G\u00f3mez P\u00e9rez that tragedy was known in Mexico by\nthe art of Satan: who, making use of some women inclined to such\nagilities (_algunas mujeres inclinadas \u00e1 semejantes agilidades_),\ncaused them to transplant to the Plaza Mayor of the City of Mexico a\nsoldier standing guard on the walls of Manila; and this was\naccomplished so unfelt by the soldier that in the morning--when he\nwas found walking sentry, musket in hand, in that city--he asked of\nthose who addressed him in what city he was. By the Holy Office it was\nordered that he should be sent back to these islands: where many who\nknew him have assured me of the truth of this event.\"\n\nSe\u00f1or Obreg\u00f3n's comment, at once non-committal and impartial, on Fray\nGaspar's narrative admits of no improvement. I give it in his own\nwords: \"In the face of the asseveration of so brainy a chronicler (_un\ncronista tan sesudo_) we neither trump nor discard (_no ponemos ni\nquitamos rey_)\"; to which he adds a jingle advising the critical that\nhe gives the story as it was given to him:\n\n \"Y si lector, dijeres, ser comento,\n Como me lo contaron te lo cuento.\"\n\n\n\n\n NOTE IX\n\n LEGEND OF LA LLORONA\n\n\nThis legend is not, as all of the other legends are, of\nSpanish-Mexican origin: it is wholly Mexican--a direct survival from\nprimitive times. Seemingly without perceiving--certainly without\nnoting--the connection between an Aztec goddess and this the most\nwidely distributed of all Mexican folk-stories, Se\u00f1or Orozco y Berra\nwrote:\n\n\"The Tloque Nahuaque [Universal Creator] created in a garden a man and\na woman who were the progenitors of the human race.... The woman was\ncalled Cihuacohuatl, 'the woman snake,' 'the female snake'; Tititl,\n'our mother,' or 'the womb whence we were born'; Teoyaominqui, 'the\ngoddess who gathers the souls of the dead'; and Quilaztli, implying\nthat she bears twins. She appears dressed in white, bearing on her\nshoulder a little cradle, as though she were carrying a child; and she\ncan be heard sobbing and shrieking. This apparition was considered a\nbad omen.\" Referring to the same goddess, Fray Bernardino de Sahagun\nthus admonished (circa 1585) the Mexican converts to Christianity:\n\"Your ancestors also erred in the adoration of a demon whom they\nrepresented as a woman, and to whom they gave the name of Cioacoatl.\nShe appeared clad as a lady of the palace [clad in white?]. She\nterrified (_espantada_), she frightened (_asombraba_), and cried aloud\nat night.\" It is evident from these citations that La Llorona is a\nstray from Aztec mythology; an ancient powerful goddess living on--her\npower for evil lessened, but still potent--into modern times.\n\nShe does not belong especially to the City of Mexico. The belief in\nher--once confined to, and still strongest in, the region primitively\nunder Aztec domination--now has become localized in many other places\nthroughout the country. This diffusion is in conformity with the\nrecognized characteristic of folk-myths to migrate with those who\nbelieve in them; and in the case of La Llorona reasonably may be\ntraced to the custom adopted by the Conquistadores of strengthening\ntheir frontier settlements by planting beside them settlements of\nloyal Aztecs: who, under their Christian veneering, would hold to--as\nto this day the so-called Christian Indians of Mexico hold to--their\nold-time faith in their old-time gods.\n\nBeing transplanted, folk-myths are liable to modification by a new\nenvironment. The Fiery Cow of the City of Mexico, for instance, not\nimprobably is a recasting of the Basque vaca de lumbre; or, possibly,\nof the goblin horse, El Belludo, of Grenada--who comes forth at\nmidnight from the Siete Suelos tower of the Alhambra and scours the\nstreets pursued by a pack of hell-hounds. But in her migrations, while\ngiven varying settings, La Llorona has remained unchanged. Always and\neverywhere she is the same: a woman clad in white who by night in\nlonely places goes wailing for her lost children; a creature of evil\nfrom whom none who hold converse with her may escape alive.\n\nDon Vicente Riva Palacio's metrical version of this legend seems to be\ncomposite: a blending of the primitive myth with a real tragedy of\nViceregal times. Introductorily, he tells that for more than two\nhundred years a popular tale has been current in varying forms of a\nmysterious woman, clad in white, who runs through the streets of the\nCity at midnight uttering wailings so keen and so woful that whoever\nhears them swoons in a horror of fear. Then follows the story: Luisa,\nthe Wailer, in life was a woman of the people, very beautiful. By her\nlover, Don Mu\u00f1o de Montes Claros, she had three children. That he\nmight make a marriage with a lady of his own rank, he deserted her.\nThrough a window of his house she saw him at his marriage feast; and\nthen sped homeward and killed--with a dagger that Don Mu\u00f1o had left in\nher keeping--her children as they lay sleeping. Her white garments all\nspattered with their blood, she left her dead children and rushed\nwildly through the streets of the City--shrieking in the agony of her\nsorrow and her sin. In the end, \"a great crowd gathered to see a woman\ngarroted because she had killed her three children\"; and on that same\nday \"a grand funeral procession\" went with Don Mu\u00f1o to his grave. And\nit is this Luisa who goes shrieking at night through the streets of\nthe City even now.\n\nMy friend Gilberto Cano is my authority for the version of the\nlegend--the popular version--that I have given in my text. It seems to\nme to preserve, in its awed mystery and in its vague fearsomeness, the\nvery feeling with which the malignant Aztec goddess assuredly was\nregarded in primitive times.\n\n\n THE END\n\n\n\n\n FOOTNOTES:\n\n\n[Footnote 1: See Note I.]\n\n[Footnote 2: See Note II.]\n\n[Footnote 3: See Note III.]\n\n[Footnote 4: See Note IV.]\n\n[Footnote 5: See Note V.]\n\n[Footnote 6: See Note VI.]\n\n[Footnote 7: See Note VII.]\n\n[Footnote 8: See Note VIII.]\n\n[Footnote 9: See Note IX.]\n\n[Footnote 10: \"La Cruz del Diablo,\" with other stories of a like sort\nby Becquer, all very well worth reading, may be read in English in the\naccurate translation recently made by Cornelia Frances Bates and\nKatharine Lee Bates under the title _Romantic Legends of Spain_ (New\nYork, Thomas Y. Crowell & Co.); and in the original Spanish, with the\nassistance of scholarly notes and a vocabulary, in the collection\nprepared for class use by Dr. Everett Ward Olmsted under the English\ntitle _Legends and Poems by Gustavo Adolfo Becquer_ (Boston, Ginn &\nCo.).]\n\n * * * * *\n\nTranscriber's note:\n\nText enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).\n\nSmall capital text has been replaced with all capitals.\n\nThe carat character (^) indicates that the following letter is\nsuperscripted (example: S^ntiago). If two or more letters are\nsuperscripted they are enclosed in curly brackets (example: D^{or}).\n\nMinor typographical errors have been corrected without note.\nIrregularities and inconsistencies in the text have been retained as\nprinted.\n\nThe illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up\nparagraphs, thus the page number of the illustration might not match\nthe page number in the List of Illustrations.\n\nThe cover for the eBook version of this book was created by the\ntranscriber and is placed in the public domain.\n\nThe list of drawings is incorrect. There is no drawing in the book for\nLEGEND OF THE CALLE DEL PUENTE DEL CL\u00c9RIGO _Facing p._ 14, but\nthe reference to it has been left in place.","title":"Legends of the City of Mexico","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":35930}