In those days, Don Alonzo de la Serna, a man of lofty character and intrepid spirit, was archbishop of Mexico, and perceiving the avaricious trick of the viceroy and his pimp, threw himself on the popular side and promptly excommunicated Mexia. But the sturdy merchant, protected by viceroyal authority, was not to be conquered by so immaterial a thing as a prelate's curse placarded on the door of a cathedral. He remained quietly ensconced in his house, despatched orders to his agents, and even _raised_ the price of his extravagant bread stuffs. For a moment, perhaps, De la Serna was confounded by this rebellious son of the church, yet the act convinced him, if indeed, he entertained any doubt on the subject, that Mexia was backed by the viceroy, and, consequently, that any further attempts would bring him in direct conflict with the government. Nevertheless, a man like him was not to be easily alarmed or forced to retreat so quickly. The church, supreme in spiritual power, would never yield, especially in a matter of popular and vital concern, and the archbishop, therefore, determined to adopt the severest method at once, and by an order of _cessatio divinis_, to stop, immediately, all religious worship throughout the colony. This was a direful interdict, the potency of which can only be imagined by those who have lived in Catholic countries whose piety is not periodically regulated upon the principle of a seven day clock, but where worship is celebrated from hour to hour in the churches. The doors of chapels, cathedrals and religious buildings were firmly closed. A death-like silence prevailed over the land. No familiar bells sounded for matins or vespers. The people, usually warned by them of their hours of labor or repose, had now no means of measuring time. The priests went from house to house, lamenting the grievous affliction with which the country was visited and sympathizing cordially with the people. The church mourned for the unnatural pains her rebellious son had brought upon her patient children. But still the contumacious Mexia sold his corn and exacted his price!