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By that time we were drawing into Celaya, also in the throes of some bombastic celebration. Like many another Mexican city the traveler chances into when the central plaza is bubbling with night life, light, and music, Celaya turned out rather a disappointment in the sunny commonplace of day.
Like most Spanish things conquests, history, buildings it looked more striking at a distance than when examined in detail. Celaya is far-famed for its candy. All over the republic sounds the cry of "Cajetas de Celaya!"
Twenty miles further southward is the thriving city of Celaya, in the charming valley of the Laja, with about twenty thousand population. The town is situated nearly two miles from the river, in the State of Guanajuato, and contains extensive cotton and woolen mills, with the usual abundance of Roman Catholic churches.
Villa was beaten at Celaya by Obregon and Carranza is winning all along the line! We're done for!" Valderrama's gesture was disdainful and solemn as an emperor's. "Villa? Obregon? Carranza? What's the difference? I love the revolution like a volcano in eruption; I love the volcano because it's a volcano, the revolution because it's the revolution!
As Irapuato for its strawberries, and Celaya for its sweets, so Queretaro is famed for its huge, cheap hats, of a sort of reed, large enough to serve as umbrellas, and for its opals.
Without a change of expression, one of the deserters stared persistently at him and said: "I know who you are. When we took Torreon you were with General Urbina. In Zacatecas you were with General Natera and then you shifted to the Jalisco troops. Am I lying?" These words met with a sudden and definite effect. The prisoners gave a detailed account of the tremendous defeat of Villa at Celaya.
One acquainted with Spanish-American Romanism will smile at the reference in the above article to the Bible having been falsified by us. If the text of any version extant is compared with those which are painted on the walls of the church in Celaya, there surely will be found a great discrepancy.
The junction town was in fiesta, and the second-class car of the evening train to Celaya was literally stacked high with peons and their multifarious bundles, and from it issued a stench like unto that of a congress of polecats. I rode seated on a brake, showers of cinders and the cold night air swirling about me, until the festive natives thinned down enough to give me admittance.
"After the defeat we deserted from General Villa's troops this side of Celaya." "General Villa defeated? Ha! Ha! That's a good joke." The soldiers laughed. But Demetrio's brow was wrinkled as though a black shadow had passed over his eyes. "There ain't a son of a bitch on earth who can beat General Villa!" said a bronzed veteran with a scar clear across the face.
There are quite a number of buildings in Celaya, both public and private, which evince notable architectural beauty. These were erected after the design of a local Michael Angelo, a native architect, sculptor, and painter named Tresguerras.
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