Tradition That Has Lured Many Adventurers to Seek Hidden Gold.
From the New York Press.
Mexican tradition says that somewhere in the Central West are the ruins of a populous Aztec city, in which Guate Motzin stored the vast treasure which Cortez tried to find after the conquest of Mexico. Expeditions under Mexican and under foreign directions have tried in vain to find this city. The story of one attempt to locate the wonderful city made by Col. H. C. Haddington, a civil engineer In the employ of the Mexican government, certainly is curious. He says:
“The story of a lost city is familiar to all Mexicans, and believed in by most of them. When I visited Mexico for the first time in 1872 I became interested in the subject from associating with Mr. Early, an English engineer, who assured me of his belief in its existence. Before leaving the City of Mexico I inquired in government circles for information to substantiate the story told by Early. I found the officials in different departments ready to credit the reports, which they believed plausible, as at that time no complete survey had been made by the government of that district.
“For nearly twenty years I was unable to carry out the project. I formed of investigating the matter, although during the period I gathered all the information I could bearing upon La Ciudad de Perdido. It was not until last October that I could command the time necessary to search for the lost city. I was at the City of Mexico at the time and became acquainted with Conrad Quinby, a Colorado miner, and with an attache of the French legation. I showed to them the information I had already acquired, and upon my invitation they consented to accompany us.
Blanca Mountains.
“We left San Luis Potosi early in October and went south 150 miles, striking the Blanca range of mountains. The country through which we passed was extremely rugged, absolutely devoid of wagon roads or trains. It was a case of travel by compass, sometimes assisted by a guide, who would spend a few days tramping with us, but most of the time we went by ourselves. About November 1 we had traveled the Blanca Mountains, and were ready to descend their southern side. We had been on the road for nearly a month, and my companions were beginning to urge the uselessness of going farther and the advisability of getting back as soon as possible.
“You see, there is some kind of an understanding between foreign countries and Mexico which limits in some respects the actions of legation representatives, and the French attache was in doubt about the propriety of going further into the matter. I urged them to keep on for a week longer, for I thought I began to recognize indications that we were approaching the site of the city.
“I was determined to make a thorough investigation and If I failed in finding the ‘lost city’ I wanted to satisfy myself that it did not exist. After we had descended the Blanca range we found ourselves on the banks of a river locally known as the River of the White Hog, and there we camped, intending to spend a few days hunting and fishing. I think we had been on the river about a week when one morning we were aroused by the intrusion of a dozen of the dirtiest peons I ever saw. I soon discovered they spoke an Indian dialect, although they understood a little of the Mexican lingo.
“I explained what we were after, and was much delighted when one of them volunteered to guide us to the lost city. No inducement would elicit a promise to see us into the city, however, as he professed that it would be impossible for him to do more than take us to a point from which it could be seen. Of course that was all we wanted. We set off the next day, accompanied by a whole crew, and traveled south until sundown. When we camped we had reached a point in the mountains where a valley apparently twenty miles long and seven or eight wide, spread out. It was a beautiful sight.
“After finishing our night repast and smoking an evening ‘puro’ cigar we got into our hammoncks and prepared for the last night’s rest before sleeping in La Ciudad de Perdido, as our guide had promised on the morrow to show us the city, and then leave us to negotiate for admittance as best we could.
“Perhaps it was the novelty of the situation, possibly I was a little nervous at the prospect of being the first white man to tread the streets of the ‘lost city of Mexico’ —whatever the reason, sleep did not come easily, and it was well on toward daybreak before I lost consciousness and slipped off into a troubled dream. I dreamed I was about to make a grand entry into a wonderful city, more fantastic than anything I had ever seen or read of, crowded with a strange people, distinct In type and manners from those with which I was familiar. In an instant the city had vanished, and as I opened my eyes I beheld the face of our guide peering down into my own.
Beautiful Mirage.
“Indicating that I should keep silent, the guide ld the way to the end of the spur on which we were camped. Pointing off to the south, he said:
‘See yonder range of hills? Well, look well to the western slope, and you will see “La Ciudad de Perdido.’
“For several minutes I strained my eyes but could see nothing. Then suddenly, as If a great searchlight had been gradually turned on, I caught the outlines of a large square. Judging from the distance I estimated it to be a mile or more in extent. Slowly it lost the instinctness at first marking the sight, and slowly the outlines of houses began to appear. One thing which I recalled afterward was that at the time a mist seemed to extend across the valley and to within a few hundred feet of the nearer wall. From the slant of the city I decided it was built on the sloping ground which led up to the hill still further south. It was certainly a remarkable sight. Temples, palaces houses, market squares, even the faint flicker of the temple fires, could be seen distinctly. The streets were deserted, which gave the place the appearance of a city of the dead. The houses, I noticed in particular, even at the great distance which intervened, shone as though incrusted with silver, while from the flat top of the pyramidal temple I caught a glimmer like the reflection of beaten gold.
“When I had looked at it for some time I turned to the guide who was resting on a large flat stone, apparently as much absorbed in the spectacle as myself, and asked: ‘What is the name of the place and have you never been any nearer than this?’
“He shrugged his shoulders and, pointing to the city, replied: For many years I have yearly seen La Ciudad de Perdido, but I have never tried to go there. My father once saw it and told some “gringoes” (Americans) about it. They came and saw as you do and then induced him to go with them. They never came back, but my mother once got a letter from “el padre” telling her never to let me or any of her people attempt to find La Ciudad de Perdido. She expects him to come back some day, but I don’t think he will.’ When he had finished his explanation he turned on his heel and slowly walked back to camp.
“Of course I had a hard time convincing my companions that I had located the lost city of Mexico, but at last I persuaded them to make the trip with me to the hill district and the next day we set out. Well, we tramped around those hills all day and could not find so much as a footprint. The next morning, just before day break, I led my companions back to the spot from which I had seen the city.
“We sat around the rocks for an hour and were about to give up our vigil when Quinby suddenly jumped up and, pointing to the hills south of where I had directed them to look, exclaimed: ‘There it Is” Sure enough, there it was. But I made two discoveries; first, it was a mile below where I had seen it before, and, secondly, it was at least 300 feet higher up on the hills. We watched it for an hour, while all the time it seemed to be getting nearer the hilltop, until at last it hung in the sky just above the range. It was a beautiful sight. I began to feel a sense of awe creeping over me and had I not had my explanation ready at hand would have gone away as fearful of the delusion as the average native.
Of course, it was a mirage, the most remarkable I ever witnessed, and I believe the most remarkable in the world. Just where the city thus pictured in the sky is situated I would not attempt to say, but it must be well to the east of the Blanca range. It is probably some half-deserted Aztec town.”
The Savannah Morning News, Savannah, GA, November 17, 1901