Legends of Guanajuato
Tales of ages past, filled with fantasy, which have become local tradition with the passing of time.
Among the most popular and well-known legends are: The Mummies of Guanajuato, The Alleyway of the Kiss, The Crying Woman (La Llorona), The Usurer of the Baratillo, On Truco Street, The Alleyway of the Countess and The Cantador Garden.
Legend of the Alleyway of the Kiss
It is told that Doña Ana was the only daughter of a willful and violent man. However, love had the last word, as it always does, although here in the most tragic of circumstances.
Doña Ana was being courted by a handsome young fellow, Luis. But when her father found out, he forbade her to go out, threatened to send her to a convent, and worse, to marry her off to an old, rich Spanish nobleman, by which the father's estate would be restored to its former glory.
The beautiful, docile young woman and her lady in waiting, Brígida, cried and pleaded with the father, but all for naught.
So, before accepting her sad fate, Ana and Brígida decided that Brígida would deliver a letter to Luis telling him of the disastrous news.
The love-stricken young man imagined a thousand things he might do, and settled on one after much deliberation.
There was a window in Ana's house that opened onto a narrow alleyway, so narrow in fact that it was possible to touch the wall of the house across the way by leaning out the window.
The young man thought that if he could enter that house opposite Ana's, he would be able to talk to her, and the two of them might devise a solution to their problem. He found the owner of the house and bought it immediately, paying in gold.
Imagine Ana's surprise when, leaning from her balcony, she suddenly found herself just inches from her true love. Time stood still as the two gazed longingly into each other's eyes. But they were abruptly brought back to reality by angry words coming from the doorway behind Ana. It was her father, shouting at Brígida who was risking life and limb to prevent him from entering the room.
The father threw off the young lady blocking his path, and madly made his way toward his daughter, a dagger in his hand. In a fit of rage, he stabbed her in the chest.
Luis, in shock, stood with Ana's hand in his. Coming to his senses and realizing what had happened, he gently kissed his love's hand, now lifeless and cold.
And that is why this spot, no doubt one of the most representative of our city, is called the Alleyway of the Kiss.
Legend of the Usurer of the Baratillo
This legend is about a man who lived during the times of the Revolution of 1910.
Two or three times a day, when he was hungry, he would go down the stairs of his house and open the heavy doors of the vestibule, which remained firmly shut the rest of the day.
He quickly exchanged a few cents for atole and tamales, or nopales and tortillas, depending on the time of day, and without a word to anyone once again shut himself inside his home.
The great wooden door let out a long creak from its rusty hinges, and then was pushed closed once again.
The man was the usurer of the Baratillo, as the people of the town came to call him. He was a bony man, white, of regular height and a lost gaze, with a moustache and goatee on an unshaven face. He wore black pants and a shirt that may have once been white.
He was so rich that his immense stashes of gold coins had made him lose his mind. For years, all hours of the day and night, so goes the story, he could be heard counting his money over and over, lost in the clinking sounds of the coins as he let them fall upon his bed. That very particular sound was his obsession.
It is said that the riches came from the pawnshop that he operated out of his house for many years, charging exorbitant interests.
The shifty moneylender was also attributed the phrase: "A peso that doesn't generate ten more isn't worth a thing."
He lent his money in gold, and set as a condition that it be returned to him in the same form, with, as we have said, the highest of interests.
On one occasion he met a gentleman who managed to outsmart him. The man took out a short term loan of two thousand pesos at 25% interest, payable in eight days; however, far from paying, this man made off with the money. Legend has it this was the definitive cause of his insanity.
From that day on, the usurer did nothing but count his money, lifting up handfuls of gold coins and letting them sift through his hands, listening to the sound of them clinking together.
The neighbors see him almost every night, and the families that have lived in that house have heard his steps moving up and down the stairs, and at night the clinking of the coins.
This is the usurer of the Baratillo counting his treasure, a treasure that, since it still has not been found, many say must still be hidden somewhere in the house. In his great avarice, the usurer must have thought to hide it so that no one would ever find it.
Legend of The Princess of the Bufa
As legend has it, on the picturesque peak of Cerro de la Bufa, in the mornings of feast-day Thursdays, an enchanted princess of rare beauty comes looking for someone, a male visitor, to ask him to take her in his arms to the high altar of the Basilica of Guanajuato. If they make it to the Basilica, the enchanted silver city will return to its former glory, and the princess will become human once again.
But to break this spell there are certain conditions: the traveler, enraptured by the beauty of the young woman, must pass several tests, including carrying the princess in his arms without looking back, ignoring voices and strange noises behind him.
If the chosen man loses his calm and looks back, the beautiful girl turns into a horrific snake, and the story ends there.
The offer is tempting: a beautiful woman and a limitless fortune; but who among us has the mettle to take up the challenge?
It would appear that the answer is: no one. In over four centuries, Guanajuato has yet to see the man who will break the spell.
Legend of Truco's Street
The people who live on the street known as Calle del Truco say they have seen a shadow of a man walking hurriedly down the street in the darkest, quietest hours of the night. The man is dressed as men did in colonial times, with a long coat and a wide-rimmed hat. The hat is pulled down to his eyebrows, and two fiery eyes look out from a pale, contorted face.
This is the shadow of Don Ernesto, who discreetly stops at a certain door and knocks thrice. A bone-chilling creaking is heard as the door opens, and the man enters. This is the Gambling House, frequented by only the richest of the rich. The stakes here are high: first bags of gold coins, then plots of land, then entire estates. The night has turned sour for Don Ernesto. He has lost three or four of his best properties. Fortune has turned her back on him, and he is as nervous as he has ever been. And as he mentally registers the night's losses, he realizes that he has lost everything.
"Not everything, my friend. There's still something of value left."
"The devil only knows what that could be! What?"
"We will stake it against everything you've lost tonight, on the first hand," the man said.
Don Ernesto, beside himself, shouted: "What in God's name are you talking about? Say it already!"
"Calm down. Calm down," said the man.
"You'll be the one I calm down!" shouted once more the luckless gentleman.
Don Ernesto's adversary leaned over the table to whisper something in his ear.
"No, for all that's holy! Not her!" Don Ernesto cried.
"You decide. You could win back all that you own."
An internal battle raged inside the gambler, who said at last:
"Alright then! The highest card be it!"
The other man unhurriedly placed two cards on the table, a jack of coins and a six of swords...
"The jack!" shouted Don Ernesto, trembling.
And the fateful cards were dealt... seven of clubs, three of coins, knight of cups and last, the cursed card, the six.
"You've lost once again."
The gentleman could say nothing, and he only sat there, fallen. He had gambled away his beautiful wife. And being a man of his word, he had no choice but to keep his end of the bargain. That night Don Ernesto won not a single hand--his opponent had been the devil himself.
Legend of Plazuela de Carcamanes
It was over 150 years ago that the two brothers came to live in the city of Guanajuato. They came from Europe , so it was said, and their surname was Karlkaman.
The Karlkaman brothers would soon be known as "the Carcamans," or in Spanish, "Los Carcamanes," as people mispronounced the name. Their life went on peacefully and pleasantly, that is, until one terrible day.
At dawn on the morning of June 2, 1803 , the news spread around the town in an instant that neighbors had found the "Carcamanes" brothers dead in their home.
The story goes that when the neighbors entered the house through the door left open, they saw a tragic, bone-chilling scene. A double homicide. The motive: burglary.
At least that was the first hypothesis as to the entirely unexpected deaths. The truth, however, was another story altogether.
A young woman who lived nearby, promiscuous as she was beautiful, was also found murdered, a terrible stab wound in her heart, that same June morning. That less-than-chaste young maiden was the lover of both brothers. The first, possessed by rage, waited one evening for the second to arrive home. And as it happens in these cases, neither kinship nor a life spent together in friendship could prevent the terrible tragedy about to occur.
In an explosion of violence, the "Carcamanes" brothers locked in a fight to the death, where Nicolás lost. Arturo, though badly hurt, dragged himself along the wall with bloodied hands, and made his way to the house of his unfaithful lover, to murder her in her bed. When he returned home, he took his own life with the same dagger.
After the investigations and routine procedures of the corresponding authorities, the body of Nicolás was buried at the Church of San Francisco , and Arturo at the Cemetery of San Sebastián.
According to legend, between the Church of San José and the house where the brothers lived, three specters haunt the night, bewailing their deaths and their punishment.
