The church was very large and interesting; but the front was disfigured by two distinct main entrances, and the bell-tower was too low for the church. Within, there was the simplest architecture imaginable,—plain timber posts, square, with a slight chamfer, with pillow-block capitals and stucco bases; an uneven tiled floor; and side altars of poor design, sometimes painted to imitate marble. On one of these altars a famished cur was eating candle-ends; on another were the three crucifixes of Calvary,—the repentant thief being a young man of personable form and features, while the other was a bald-headed, bearded villain; a very impressive object-lesson we afterwards saw in many churches. A fair St. Sebastian was the only picture of tolerable merit.

We called on the excellent Jefe politico, Don Luis Molina, who received us very politely, although our call must have been a great bore to him, as he spoke no English, and my Spanish was very lame. The Indian women in the streets all dress alike,—in a skirt of indigo-blue cotton, generally figured in the loom; and their long and abundant black hair is carefully bound in red bandages (listones) reaching nearly to the ground. Their stature is below medium; they seem modest and good-natured. The blue cloth is woven in rude looms, several of which we inspected, and the thread is dyed in vats of masonry in the house-yard. The threads are dressed in the loom and dried by a few coals in a potsherd placed beneath the warp. A border is woven at each edge, and also in the woof, at intervals, to mark the length of a dress-pattern. A common design is given on the previous page,—the lines being light blue on dark. The lines of light filling are carried outside the selvage, and of course are easily broken; otherwise the cloth is coarse and strong, in widths of a vara, or thirty-three inches. The weavers were very obliging, and pleased to have us inspect their work.

The soil here is a rich red loam, and coffee grows better than elsewhere in the country. Coffee-trees, well-trimmed and loaded with crimson berries, were in every garden, and violets and strawberries were in blossom.

The domestic architecture was certainly not imposing, but it was substantial, and perfectly suited to the climate. Houses were generally but one story in height, built of masonry and covered with stucco, around a patio towards which the tiled roof inclined, covering a wide veranda as well as the house. The windows on the street projected slightly, and were protected by strong iron grills. Many of the streets were paved, and drains and culverts provided to remove the rain-water. As there is no aqueduct, water is brought from springs or caught from the roofs during the frequent rains. We were told it had rained incessantly for the last ten days, and the wet clouds still rested on the surrounding hills, giving a slightly gloomy aspect to the otherwise fine views in all directions. The meat-market was outside the Plaza, and a single glance was enough; but the general market was so attractive that, after a quiet night’s rest (we were of course far more wearied by sight-seeing than by any day’s travel), we turned our steps thither in the early morning. In our search for mules we came to the blacksmith in the cloisters. He was an American (del Norte); and it was said that when he was drunk he could shoe a mule better than others could in their soberest moments. He had been drinking when we found him; but he gave us some information, took us to his den hard by, where his family consisted of a native wife and a black monkey, and gave Frank the skin of a quetzal (Pharomacrus mocino). This skin was so beautiful that it put us on the search, and we found a señora who had a moderately large collection of these and other bird-skins, which are brought in by the Indios from the mountains of Alta Verapaz.

The quetzal (pronounced kezàl) is the national emblem, and is decidedly a bird of freedom, as it never survives captivity, even when taken in earliest life. In ancient days none but the royal family could wear the beautiful plumes. At present the Indios bring the skins from the mountains in considerable numbers, their value depending on the length of the tail-plumes, which sometimes exceeds three feet. As the female is very plain, without the beautiful tail of the male, she escapes the hunters, and consequently preserves the species. The wing-coverts and tail-feathers of the male are of a superb peacock-green, changing to indigo, the inner breast scarlet, and the wings very dark.

We went to the campo santo, on a hill westward of the town, which is reached by a flight of a hundred and sixty concrete steps; the whole was built at the cost of one pious man. Several shrines on the way up made convenient resting-places for those who used those steps,—like the Golden Stairs at Rome for knee-worship and penance. In one of these shrines was a lamp of native make, in form of a bird with many necks. The chapel on the top was small, and the doorway so low that I struck my head violently in coming from the dark interior.

Except the noble pine-trees on the top, there was nothing attractive in this last resting-place. Some grave-diggers were making merry over a small and shallow grave they had just finished, and we gladly turned from the calvario to the fine views townward. At night the regimental band gave us some agreeable music (perhaps national airs, certainly unfamiliar tunes); and as the music died away in the distant streets we fell asleep, to be awakened at day-break by the drums and fifes calling the men of military age to the regular Sunday inspection. We were present at the roll-call in the Plaza; and of all absurd military sights, this was the chief! Soldiers in every costume and of all sizes stood in line, much as they arrived at the rendezvous, and solemnly answered to their names. Would that I could present a photograph of this “Falstaff’s Regiment” to my readers!

After coffee Frank and I went to church. The Indian women were all kneeling on the tiled floor, and formed the bulk of the worshippers. A few men stood or knelt, with striped blankets thrown gracefully over their shoulders. Mahogany benches between the side altars gave us an opportunity to sit comfortably and study the interesting scene before us while we listened to the very fine orchestra (consisting mostly of Germans), which occupied benches in the midst of the nave. Far away in the loft, over the door, a bass drum and fife, and still farther out of doors rockets and explosions, accompanied or emphasized the music. The sacrament of the communion was being administered to worshippers,—apparently in both kinds; the wine in a sort of sop, while the wafer was carried by an attendant. All through the long service the women remained devoutly kneeling on the tiled floor.

After church the market was more active than usual, and we spent the time before almuerzo in lounging through it. In the afternoon we were made happy by the arrival of Santiago and our mozos, with our luggage in perfect order; and not long after the Jefe Don Luis called, and assured us that we should have all the mozos we needed to carry our luggage onward. We had decided to take the unusual road to Quiché, about which even the Jefe could give us little information, and we found no one else who knew more; so we decided to send our heavier luggage direct by Salamà to Guatemala City, while we took with us only one mozo to carry those things we needed by the way.

In the evening we turned again to the church to hear the vesper service. The spacious edifice was dimly lighted by the candles on the altars and pillars, and men and women knelt all over the rough floor. A choir of female voices was singing as we entered, and soon the officiating priest was conducted by candle-bearing acolytes to the altar. The responses by the choir and orchestra (organ, violin, flute, and violoncello) were very impressive, the musicians often joining their voices to the music of their instruments. The Indian drum, made of hides rudely stretched over the hollow trunk of a tree, boomed from the remote part of the church, and bombs and rockets exploded outside in a most effective manner. A black-robed young priest entered a confessional near where I was sitting, and a veiled female at once knelt at the side, while others in the immediate neighborhood moved quietly out of earshot. The whole service was very solemn; and the clouds of incense from the swinging censers of the Indian boys partly concealed the tinsel and tarnished gilding of the uncouth altar, and even cast a glamour over the huge doll, which, most gaudily dressed, represented the Queen of Heaven. The decaying church, so painfully out of repair by daylight, was covered with respectability, even with sanctity, by the shadows of night. One cannot but feel with sadness that the offices of a religion held so sacred here in centuries gone by should be so lightly regarded, and that the church buildings reared by so much labor and often unselfish devotion should now be cared so little for, even in this State of Verapaz, where the Church gained an ascendency over the Indios which the iron-clad and iron-hearted Conquistadores had never done.

Monday was spent in photographing views in the neighborhood and hunting for mules. Of these we agreed to take three for our use all through the country at a charge of $150; but when we unsaddled them at our hotel we found they all had sore backs, and accordingly sent them home. In the evening I went with the postmaster (a Kentuckian) to an examination at the Colegio de Libertad. Three ladino lads did most of the reciting in arithmetic, botany, zoology, and history; and a certain doctor took the rôle of chief examiner,—evidently quite as much bent on displaying his own knowledge as that of his pupils. I had to ask a few questions, which were understood and promptly answered.

In the morning we visited the Government storehouse for aguardiente. The inspector wanted us to taste the fire-water, which was so strong that it seemed to blister the tongue. The sale of this liquor is a Government monopoly, yielding a very considerable revenue.[12] A distiller at this place has a license, for which he pays four hundred dollars per month; and he must furnish a minimum of sixty-five bottles per diem, paying twenty-five cents a bottle for all over this amount. All the product is brought to the public store, where it is tested at 50°; and the retailers send in their written orders for the number of bottles they require. The estancas (or drink-shops) pay forty dollars per month. The unfortunates who drink take a small tumblerful at a time.

I bought a mare—yegua colorada—for sixty dollars; and as all bills of sale and receipts must be in Spanish, we, with the help of the postmaster, composed the following simple affair on stamped paper:—

The paper is not only stamped, but also water-marked, and is for sale at the principal shops. As the stamps are changed every two years, the Government has to redeem all stamped paper on hand at the end of each biennial period.