Page:Mexico, Aztec, Spanish and Republican, Vol 2.djvu/176

150 cavalry on the route as soon as he came to power, and numerous arrests were made which were followed by the prompt conviction and execution of the bandits. No mercy was shown. The robbers were garroted, in pairs, in the towns along the road and in the capital; and thousands turned out morning after morning to witness the tragic end of these merciless wretches. For a short time the road was free; but, in a few months, new bands replaced the executed robbers, and, since the war with the United States, the main highway of Mexico has become as insecure as of old.

The prisons of the city of Mexico are in a wretched condition, and, although it has often been proposed to introduce some of the modern penitentiary systems of Europe and the United States, we are not aware that any thing has been done to effect this desirable end. The is the common prison of Mexico. In front of one of its wings, at a low window protected by stout iron bars, are laid, every morning, the dead bodies that have been found throughout the city during the night. Every day these frightful evidences of murder or violent death are exposed to the gaze of citizens as they pass onward towards the western limits of the city. Sometimes five dead bodies have been seen at one time in this Morgue of Mexico;—and, on days succeeding festivals, the number is sometimes largely augmented. These unfortunate wretches are the victims of quarrels, or sudden fights;—and the front of the deadly window is commonly crowded with women and children—the relatives of the victims who come thither to seek after or to gaze their last on friend, father or husband.

Loathsome as is this exhibition on the exterior of the Accordada, the interior of this edifice is scarcely less frightful. Like all large Spanish edifices it is quadrangular. A strong military guard watches the gate, and a gloomy stairway leads to the second story, whose entrance is guarded by a massive portal. Inside of this, a lofty room is filled with the prison officers and a crowd of subalterns engaged in writing, talking, smoking and walking, whilst the clank of chains, the shouts of prisoners and the constant din of a disorderly establishment, add to the disgusting sounds and demeanor within.

Passing through several iron and wood barred gates, you enter a lofty corridor, running around a quadrangular court-yard, in the centre of which, below, is a fountain of troubled water. The whole of this area is filled with human beings,—the great congress