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