Page:Face to Face With the Mexicans.djvu/162

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156
FACE TO FACE WITH THE MEXICANS.

this vast sovereignty, and had a population about the same as to-day. The wondrous tale of its wealth and grandeur and imposing magnificence has been often told; also how it was razed to the ground by the conquerors, and its canals filled with the debris of temple and palace. It was then rebuilt, and rose from its ashes exceeding its original splendor; and to-day—having withstood sieges, and witnessed the rise and fall of rulers, from the Spanish viceroys to the Habsburg—it stands in unrivaled beauty, the capital of the Mexican Republic.

Wonderful impressions present themselves to a thoughtful mind on entering for the first time this great metropolis, where every foot of ground is historic—the Rome of America, once the Venice. At the time of the conquest, in 1519, every street was a canal, thronged with Indians, peculiarly attired, paddling along in their canoes, conducting the entire commercial and agricultural business of the valley of Anahuac! "How gay and picturesque must have been the aspect of the lake in those days," says Prescott, "with its shining cities and flowering islets rocking, as it were at anchor, on the fair bosom of its waters!"

The ancient city had then three distinct avenues or causeways which connected it with the mainland, and to which is attached much historic interest.

The Spaniards first entered the city at its southern extremity by the causeway of Iztapalapan. The Tepeyac is on the northern boundary, and is connected with the first-mentioned causeway by a long street. It was on the hill Tepeyac that the Virgin Guadalupe appeared to Juan Diego. Owing to this, Tepeyac is also known as Guadalupe. It is three miles from the city. The third causeway, Tlacopan, is quite as memorably historic. The Calle de Tacuba is the ancient causeway of Tlacopan. It was here that the Spaniards were defeated by the Aztecs, and, as is related by all historians, here also Pedro Alvarado made his famous leap, on the terrible night of July 1, 1520—the Noche Triste. It must have been indeed a night of sorrow for the conquerors. A pitiless rain poured down upon the invaders. Neither starlight nor moonlight lent their gentle radiance to a scene