HOW SUNDAY IS CELEBRATED.
"A right good land to live in And a pleasant land to see."
Every day is Sunday, yet no day is Sunday, and Sunday is less Sunday
than any other day in the week. Still, the Mexican way of spending
Sunday is of interest to people of other climes and habits.
With the dawn of day people are to be seen wending their willing
footsteps toward their church. The bells chime with their musical clang
historic to Mexico, and men and women cross the threshold of churches
older than the United States. Pews are unknown, and on the bare floor
the millionaire is seen beside the poverty-stricken Indian; the
superbly clad lady side by side with an uncombed, half naked Mexican
woman. No distinction, no difference. There they kneel and offer their
prayers of penitence and thanks, unmindful of rank or condition.
No turning of heads to look at strange or gaze on new garments; no
dividing the poor from the rich, but all with uniform thought and
purpose go down on their knees to their God.
How a missionary, after one sight like this, can wish to convert them
into a faith where dress and money bring attention and front pews, and
where the dirty beggar is ousted by the janitor and indignantly scorned
down by those in affluence, is incomprehensible.
No Mexican lady thinks it proper to wear a hat into church. She thinks
it shows disgust; hence the fashion of wearing lace mantillas. In this
city of rights there is nothing handsomer than a lady neatly clad in
black with a mantilla gracefully wrapped around her head, under which
are visible coal-black hair, sparkling eyes, and beautiful teeth.
A ragged skirt, and _rebozo_ encircling a babe with its head on its
mother's shoulder, fast asleep; black, silky hair which trails on the
floor as she kneels, her wan, brown, pathetic face raised suppliantly
in devotion, is one of the prettiest, though most common, sights in
Mexico on Sunday morning.
This is the busiest day in the markets. Everything is booming, and the
people, even on their way to and from church, walk in and out around
the thousands of stalls, buying their marketing for dinner. Hucksters
cry out their wares, and all goes as merry as a birthday party.
Indians, from the mountains, are there in swarms with their marketing.
The majority of stores are open, and the "second-hand" stalls on the
cheap corner do the biggest business of the week.
Those who do not attend church find Mexico delightful on Sunday. In the
alameda (park) three military bands, stationed in different quarters,
play alternately all forenoon. The poor have a passion for music, and
they crowd the park. After one band has finished, they rush to the
stand of the next, where they stay until it has finished, and then move
to the next. Thus all morning they go around in a circle. The music,
of which the Mexican band was a sample, is superb; even the birds are
charmed. Sitting on the mammoth trees, which grace the alameda, they
add their little songs. All this, mingled with the many chimes which
ring every fifteen minutes, make the scene one that is never forgotten.
The rich people promenade around and enjoy themselves similar to the
poor.
In the Zocalo, a plazo at the head of the main street and facing the
palace and cathedral, the band plays in the evening; also on Tuesdays
and Thursdays.
Maximilian planned and had made a drive which led to his castle at
Chapultepec. It is 3750 feet long, wide enough to drive four, or even
six teams abreast. It is planted on the east side with two rows of
trees; one edging the drive, the other the walk, which is as wide as
many streets. The trees are now of immense size, rendering this drive
one of the handsomest, as well as most pleasant, in Mexico. Maximilian
called it the Boulevarde Emperiale; but when liberty was proclaimed the
name was changed to the Boulevarde of the Reform. On the same drive are
handsome; nay more, magnificent statues of Columbus, Quatemoc, and an
equestrian statue of Charles IV. of wonderful size, which has also been
pronounced perfect by good judges. A statue of Cortez is being erected.
This paseo is the fashionable promenade and drive from five to seven P.
M. every day, and specially on Sunday afternoon. The music stands are
occupied, and no vacant benches are to be found.
Those who call the Mexicans "greasers," and think them a dumb, ignorant
class, should see the paseo on Sunday: tally-ho coaches, elegant
dog-carts, English gigs, handsome coupes and carriages, drawn by the
finest studs, are a common sight. Pittsburg, on this line, is nowhere
in comparison. Cream horses, with silver manes and tails, like those so
valued in other cities, are a common kind here. The most fashionable
horse has mane and tail "bobbed." It might be added this style prevails
to a great, very great extent among all animals. Cats and dogs appear
minus ears and tails. Pets of every kind are much in demand. Ladies
carry lap dogs, and gentlemen have chained to them blooded, dogs of
mammoth size. The poor Mexican will have his tame birds; even roosters
are stylish pets. "Mary had a little lamb" is respected too much here
to be called "chestnut." The favorite pets of children are fleecy
lambs, which, with bells and ribbons about their necks, accompany the
children on their daily airing.
Mexico, while in the land of churches, would be rightly called the city
of high heels, hats, powder and canes. Every gentleman wears a silk hat
and swings a "nobby" cane. There are but two styles of hats--the tile
hat and the sombrero. Every woman powders--lays it on in chunks--and
wears the high heels known as the French opera heel. The style extends
even to the men. One of the easiest ways to distinguish foreigners from
natives is to look at their feet. The native has a neat shoe, with
heels from two inches up, while the foreigner has a broad shoe and
low heel. These people certainly possess the smallest hands and feet
of any nation in the world. Ladies wear fancy shoes entirely--beaded,
bronzed, colored leather, etc. A common, black leather shoe, such as
worn by women in the States, is an unsalable article. Yet it is nothing
strange to see a lady clad in silk or velvet, lift her dress to cross
a street or enter a carriage, and display a satin shoe of exquisite
make and above it the hosiery of Eve. In fact, very few women ever wear
stockings at all.
This city is a second Paris in the matter of dress among the _elite._
The styles and materials are badly Parisian, and Americans who come
here expecting to see poorly-dressed people are disappointed. Like
people in the sister Republic, the Mexicans judge persons by their
dress. It is the dress first and the man after.
On Sundays the streets and parks are thronged with men and women
selling ice cream, pulque, candies, cakes, and other dainties. They
carry their stock on their heads while moving, and when they stop they
set it on a tripod, which they carry in their arms.
The flower sellers are always women, some of whom look quite
picturesque in their gay-colored costumes. All the flowers are elegant,
and are arranged in bouquets to suit either ladies or gentlemen.
Bull fights take no little part in the Sunday list of amusements, where
the poor and rich mingle freely. Theaters have matinees and evening
performances, and everything takes on a holiday look, and everybody
appears happy and good-humored. This is nothing new in Mexico, however,
for the most unusual sight is a fight or quarrel. These are left to the
numerous dogs which belong to the city, and even they do little of it.
Riding horseback is a favorite pastime. Ladies only ride in the
forenoon, as custom prevents them from indulging in the saddle after
one o'clock. Gentlemen, however, ride mornings and evening. Among
them are to be found the most graceful and daring riders in the world.
Their outfits are gorgeous; true Mexican saddle trimmed with gold and
silver, graceful flaps of the finest fur on bridles finished with
numberless silver chains. The riders are superb in yellow goatskin
suits, ornamented with silver horse shoes, whips, spurs, etc., with
silver braid on the short coat. A handsome sombrero, finished in
silver, with silver monogram of the owner, revolvers, and proud,
fiery, high-stepping horse completed the picture. The ladies' habits
are similar to those now in the States, except the fine sombrero which
replaces the ugly, ungraceful high silk hats.
All day Sunday is like a pleasant Fourth of July, but after eight
o'clock the carriages become scarcer and scarcer, the people go to the
theaters and to their homes, the poor seek a soft flagstone, where they
repose for the night, and by nine o'clock the streets make one think of
a deserted city.
Mexicans do not go half way in the matter of style. At one o'clock
Sunday afternoons policemen in fancy uniforms, mounted on handsome
horses, equipped with guns and lassoes, ride down the Boulevard. They
are stationed in the center of the drive one hundred yards apart,
every alternate horse's head in the same direction. There they remain,
like statues, the entire afternoon. Sunday is a favorite day for
funerals and change of residence. Men with wardrobes, pianos, etc., on
their backs are seen trotting up and down the streets like our moving
wagons on the first day of April. They mean well by work on Sunday,
but it would appear awful to some of our good people at home. There
is this advantage, at least: they have something better to do than to
congregate in back-door saloons or loaf on the streets.