Under the Volcano (47 page)

‘ – lots of people who don't like the Credit Banks and don't like Cárdenas either, as you know, or have any use for his agrarian reform laws –'

SAN FRANCISCO CONVENT

Within the city limits of Tlaxcala is one of the oldest churches of the New World. This place was the residence of the first Apostolical See, named ‘Carolence' in honour of the Spanish King Carlos V, being the first Bishop Don Fray Julián Garcés, on the year 1526. In said Convent, according to tradition, were baptized the four Senators of the Tlaxcaltecan Republic, existing still on the right side of the Church the Baptismal Font, being their God-Fathers the conqueror Hernán Cortés and several of his Captains. The main entrance of the Convent offers a magnificent series of arches and in the inside there is a secret passage,
secret passage
. On the right side of the entrance is erected a majestic tower, which is rated as the only one through America. The Convent's altars are of a churrigueresque (overloaded) style and they are decorated with paintings drew by the most celebrated Artists, such as Cabrera, Echave, Juaréz, etc. In the chapel of the right side there is still the famous pulpit from where was preached in the New World, for first time, the Gospel. The ceiling of the Convent's Church shows magnificent carved cedar panels and decorations forming golden stars. The ceiling is the only one in the whole Spanish America.

‘ – in spite of what I've been working on and my friend Weber, and what Geoff said about the Unión Militar, I still don't think the Fascists have any hold here to speak of.'

‘Oh Hugh, for heaven's sake–'

THE CITY PARISH

The church is erected in the same place where the Spaniards built the first Hermitage consecrated to Virgin Mary. Some of the altars are decorated with overloaded art work. The portico of the church is of beautiful and severe appearance.

‘
Ha ha ha!
'

‘
Ha ha ha!
'

‘I am very sorry you cannot come me with.'

‘For she is the Virgin for those who have nobody with.'

‘Nobody come here, only those who have nobody them with.'

‘ – who have nobody with –'

‘ – who have nobody them with –'

TLAXCALA ROYAL CHAPEL

Opposite to Francisco I Madero Park could be seen the ruins of the Royal Chapel, where the Tlaxcaltecan Senators, for first time, prayed to the Conqueror's God. It has been left only the portico, showing the Pope's shield, as well as those of the Mexican Pontificate and King Carlos V. History relates that the construction of the Royal Chapel was built at a cost amounting to $200,000.00 —

‘A Nazi may not be a Fascist, but there're certainly plenty of them around, Yvonne. Beekeepers, miners, chemists. And keepers of pubs. The pubs themselves of course make ideal headquarters. In the Pilsener Kindl, for instance, in Mexico City–'

‘Not to mention in Parián, Hugh,' said the Consul, sipping mescal, though nobody seemed to have heard him save a humming-bird, who at this moment snored into his stone retreat, whirred, jittering, in the entrance, and bounced out almost into the face of the godson of the Conqueror himself, Cervantes, who came gliding past again, carrying his fighting cock. ‘In the Farolito –'

It is a Sanctuary whose white and embellished steeples 38.7 metres high, of an overloading style, gives an imposing and majestic impression. The frontage trimmed with sacred Archangels, St Francis and the epithet of Virgin Mary statues. Its construcción is made out of carved work in perfect dimensions decorated with allegorical symbols and flowers. It was constructed on the colonial epoch. Its central altar is of an overloaded and embellished style. The most admirable is the vestry, arched, decorated with graceful carved works, prevailing the green, red, and golden colours. In the highest part inside of the cúpula are carved the twelve apostles. The whole is of a singular beauty, not found in any church of the Republic.

‘ – I don't agree with you, Hugh. We go back a few years –'

‘ – forgetting, of course, the Miztecs, the Toltecs, Quetzel-coatl –'

‘ – not necessarily –'

‘ – oh yes you do! And you say first, Spaniard exploits Indian, then, when he had children, he exploited the half-breed, then the pure-blooded Mexican Spaniard, the
criollo
, then the
mestizo
exploits everybody, foreigners, Indians, and all. Then the Germans and Americans exploited him: now the final chapter, the exploitation of everybody by everybody else –'

Historic Places
—
SAN BUENAVENTURA ATEMPAM

In this town was built and tried in a dike the ships used for the conquerors in the attack to Tenochtitlán the great capital of the Moctezuma's Empire.

‘
Mar Cantábrico
.'

‘All right, I heard you, the Conquest took place in an organized community in which naturally there was exploitation already.'

‘Well –'

‘… no, the point is, Yvonne, that the Conquest took place in a civilization which was as good if not better than that of the conquerors, a deep-rooted structure. The people weren't all savages or nomadic tribes, footloose and wandering –'

‘ – suggesting that had they been footloose and wandering there would never have been any exploitation?'

‘Have another bottle of beer… Carta Blanca?'

‘Moctezuma… Dos Equis.'

‘Or is it Montezuma?'

‘Moctezuma on the bottle.'

‘That's all he is now –'

TIZATLÁN

In this town, very near to Tlaxcala City, are still erected the ruins of the Palace, residence of Senator Xicohtencatl, father of the warrior by the same name. In said ruins could be still appreciated the stone blocks where were offered the sacrifices to their Gods… In the same town, a long time ago, were the headquarters of the Tlaxcaltecan warriors…

‘I'm watching you… You can't escape me.'

‘ – this is not just escaping. I mean, let's start again, really and cleanly.'

‘I think I know the place.'

‘I can see you.'

‘ – where are the letters, Geoffrey Firmin, the letters she wrote till her heart broke –'

‘But in Newcastle, Delaware, now that's another thing again!'

‘ – the letters you not only have never answered you didn't you did you didn't you did then where is your reply –'

‘ – but oh my God, this city — the noise! the chaos! If I could only get out! If I only knew where you could get to!'

OCOTELULCO

In this town near Tlaxcala existed, long back, the Maxixcatzin Palace. In that place, according to tradition took place the baptism of the first Christian Indian.

‘It will be like a rebirth.'

‘I'm thinking of becoming a Mexican subject, of going to live among the Indians, like William Blackstone.'

‘Napoleon's leg twitched.'

‘ – might have run over you, there must be something wrong, what? No, going to –'

‘Guanajuato — the streets — how can you resist the names of the streets — the Street of Kisses –'

This mountain are still the ruins of the shrine dedicated to the God of Waters, Tlaloc, which vestiges are almost lost, therefore, are no longer visited by tourists, and it is referred that on this place, young Xicohtencatl harangued his soldiers, telling them to fight the conquerors to the limit, dying if necessary.

‘
… no pasarán
.'

‘Madrid.'

‘They plugged 'em too. They shoot first and ask questions later.'

‘I can see you.'

‘I'm watching you.'

‘You can't escape me.'

‘Guzmán… Erikson 43.'

‘A corpse will be transported by –'

RAILROAD AND BUS SERVICE

(MEXICO-TLAXCALA)

Transfer in Santa Ana Chiautempan in both ways.

Buses Flecha Roja. Leaving every hour from 5 to 19 hours.

Pullmans Estrella de Oro leaving every hour from 7 to 22.

Transfer in San Martin Texmelucán in both ways.

… And now, once more, their eyes met across the table. But this time there was, as it were, a mist between them, and through the mist the Consul seemed to see not Granada but Tlaxcala. It was a white beautiful cathedral city toward which the Consul's soul yearned and which indeed in many respects was like Granada; only it appeared to him, just as in the photographs in the folder, perfectly empty. That was the queerest thing about it, and at the same time the most beautiful; there was nobody there, no one — and in this it also somewhat resembled Tortu —to interfere with the business of drinking, not even Yvonne, who, so far as she was in evidence at all, was drinking with him.
The white sanctuary of the church in Ocotlán, of an overloaded style, rose up before them: white towers with a white clock and no one there. While the clock itself was timeless. They walked, carrying white bottles, twirling walk canes and ash plants, in the neat fine better climate, the purer air, among the corpulent ash-trees, the stricken in years trees, through the deserted park. They walked, happy as toads in a thunderstorm, arm-in-arm down the four clean and well-arranged lateral avenues. They stood, drunk as larks, in the deserted convent of San Francisco before the empty chapel where was preached, for the first time in the New World, the Gospel. At night they slept in cold white sheets among the white bottles at the Hotel Tlaxcala. And in the town too were innumerable white
cantinas
, where one could drink for ever on credit, with the door open and the wind blowing. ‘We could go straight there,' he was saying, ‘straight to Tlaxcala. Or we could all spend the night in Santa Ana Chiautempan, transferring in both ways of course, and go to Vera Cruz in the morning. Of course that means going –' he looked at his watch' — straight back now… We could catch the next bus… We'll have time for a few drinks,' he added consularly.

The mist had cleared, but Yvonne's eyes were full of tears, and she was pale.

Something was wrong, was very wrong. For one thing both Hugh and Yvonne seemed quite surprisingly tight.

‘What's that, don't you want to go back now, to Tlaxcala?' said the Consul, perhaps too thickly.

‘That's not it, Geoffrey.'

Fortunately, Cervantes arrived at this moment with a saucer full of live shellfish and toothpicks. The Consul drank some beer that had been waiting for him. The drink situation was now this, was this: there had been one drink waiting for him and this drink of beer he had not yet quite drunk. On the other hand there had been until recently several drinks of mescal (why not? — the word did not intimidate him, eh?) waiting for him outside in a lemonade bottle and all these he both had and had not drunk: had drunk in fact, had not drunk so far as the others were concerned. And before that there had been two mescals that
he both should and should not have drunk. Did they suspect? He had adjured Cervantes to silence; had the Tlaxcaltecan, unable to resist it, betrayed him? What had they really been talking about while he was outside? The Consul glanced up from his shellfish at Hugh; Hugh, like Yvonne, as well as quite tight, appeared angry and hurt. What were they up to? The Consul had not been away very long (he thought), no more than seven minutes all told, had reappeared washed and combed — who knows how? — his chicken was scarcely cold, while the others were only just finishing theirs…
Et tu Brute
! The Consul could feel his glance at Hugh becoming a cold look of hatred. Keeping his eyes fixed gimlet-like upon him he saw him as he had appeared that morning, smiling, the razor edge keen in sunlight. But now he was advancing as if to decapitate him. Then the vision darkened and Hugh was still advancing, but not upon him. Instead, back in the ring, he was bearing down upon an ox: now he had exchanged his razor for a sword. He thrust forward the sword to bring the ox to its knees… The Consul was fighting off an all but irresistible, senseless onrush of wild rage. Trembling, he felt, from nothing but this effort — the constructive effort too, for which no one would give him credit, to change the subject — he impaled one of the shellfish on a toothpick and held it up, almost hissing through his teeth:

‘Now you see what sort of creatures we are, Hugh. Eating things alive. That's what we do. How can you have much respect for mankind, or any belief in the social struggle?'

Despite this, Hugh was apparently saying, remotely, calmly, after a while: ‘I once saw a Russian film about a revolt of some fishermen… A shark was netted with a shoal of other fish and killed… This struck me as a pretty good symbol of the Nazi system which, even though dead, continues to go on swallowing live struggling men and women!'

‘It would do just as well for any other system… Including the Communist system.'

‘See here, Geoffrey –'

‘See here, old bean,' the Consul heard himself saying, ‘to have against you Franco, or Hitler, is one thing, but to have
Actinium, Argon, Beryllium, Dysprosium, Nobium, Palladium, Praseodymium –'

‘Look here, Geoff –'

‘ – Ruthenium, Samarium, Silicon, Tantalum, Tellurium, Terbium, Thorium –'

‘See here –'

‘ – Thulium, Titanium, Uranium, Vanadium, Virginium, Xenon, Ytterbium, Yttrium, Zirconium, to say nothing of Europium and Germanium — ahip! — and Columbium! — against you, and all the others, is another.' The Consul finished his beer.

Thunder suddenly sprang again outside with a clap and bang, slithering.

Despite which Hugh seemed to be saying, calmly, remotely, ‘See here, Geoffrey. Let's get this straight once and for all. Communism to me is not, essentially, whatever its present phase, a system at all. It is simply a new spirit, something which one day may or may not seem as natural as the air we breathe. I seem to have heard that phrase before. What I have to say isn't original either. In fact were I to say it five years from now it would probably be downright banal. But to the best of my knowledge, no one has yet called in Matthew Arnold to the support of their argument. So I am going to quote Matthew Arnold for you, partly because you don't think I am capable of quoting Matthew Arnold. But that's where you're quite wrong. My notion of what we call –'