A City of Vistas.--Want of Proper Drainage.--Unfortunate Site.--Insecure
Foundations.--A Boom in Building Lots.--Pleasant Suburbs.--Night
Watchmen.--The Iturbide Hotel.--A Would-be Emperor.--Domestic
Arrangements.--A New Hotel wanted.--Places of Public Entertainment.
--The Bull Ring.--Repulsive Performance.--Monte de Piedad.--An
English Syndicate purchase it.--The Alameda.--The Inquisition.--
Festal Days.--Pulque Shops.--The Church Party.--Gilded Bar-Rooms.
--Mexican Marriages.--Mothers and Infants.--A Family Group.
Mexico is a city of vistas. One looks down the long perspective of a
thoroughfare north, south, east, or west, and at the end he sees the
purple mountains, some far away, some quite near to view, some
apparently three miles off, some sixty; but the air is so transparent
that even the most distant objects seem to be very near at hand. Beneath
the plain which immediately surrounds the city is a dry marsh which was
a broad lake in Cortez's day,--indeed, it is a lake still, four or five
feet below the surface of the ground, containing the accumulated
drainage of centuries. The site of the national capital was formerly an
island, only a trifle above the level of Lake Texcoco; hence there are
no cellars possible beneath the dwelling-houses of the populace. Herein
lies the secret of the want of drainage, and of the unpleasant and
unwholesome odors which are constantly saluting the senses and
challenging the remarks of strangers. Were it not for the absence of
atmospheric moisture in this high altitude, where perishable articles of
food dry up and do not spoil by mould or putrefaction, the capital would
be swept by pestilence annually, being underlaid by a soil reeking with
pollution. As it is, typhoid fever prevails, and the average duration of
life in the city is recorded at a fraction over twenty-six years! Lung
and malarial diseases hold a very prominent place among the given causes
of mortality. Owing to the proximity of the mountains, the rains
sometimes assume the character of floods. A resident friend of the
author's told him that he had seen the surrounding streets and the Plaza
Mayor covered with two feet of water, extending a quarter of a mile up
San Francisco Street after a sharp summer shower, which did not continue
much more than an hour. Of course this gradually subsides; but the
inconvenience of such an episode in a busy city, not to speak of its
unwholesomeness, is a serious matter. The wonder is that Cortez, after
destroying the Aztec capital, should have rebuilt it on so undesirable a
site, while there was plenty of higher and more inviting ground close at
hand. To this blunder is owing the unhealthfulness of a city which might
have been rendered one of the most salubrious dwelling-places on the
continent, if placed on any of the neighboring elevated lands, with
their possibilities for pure air, their location above fogs, and their
being so entirely out of the range of devastating storms. Peter the
Great had good and sufficient reason for building his capital at such
enormous expense upon marshy ground beside the Neva, but one can see no
good reason for Cortez's choice of a site for this capital. History
gives us an account of seven disastrous floods which have occurred in
this city since 1521, all of which were accompanied with serious loss of
life, as well as great destruction of property. If a broad channel could
be opened so as to reach the Tula River, some forty miles away, adequate
drainage might be obtained for the capital. This is too stupendous an
undertaking, however, for Mexican capital or enterprise. Perhaps a
foreign company will some day accomplish it; but whether such a scheme
would be a safe one, _quien sabe_? It is possible that in attempting to
procure perfect drainage, even a worse condition of affairs might be
brought about. The city, it will be understood, rests upon a body of
water supported by an intervening stratum of earth and accumulated
debris. If this buried lake were to be drained, that is, absolutely
removed, would not a collapse of some sort necessarily take place? What
would support the present frail foundations of the city buildings, which
seem to be now sustained by hydraulic pressure? Even as it is, no heavy
structure can be found in the limits of the capital which is not more or
less out of plumb, in emulation of the leaning tower of Pisa. The thick
walls of the Iturbide Hotel are so full of cracks and crevices, caused
by the settling here and there of its insecure foundation, as to cause
anxiety and constant remark among its guests. There is another
consideration worthy of mention. It is said by persons whose
intelligence makes their opinion worthy of consideration, that during
the severe earthquake which took place here in 1882, the nearness of the
water to the surface of the earth prevented the city from the
destruction which was imminent. This certainly may have been a correct
deduction.
As the city is in the lowest part of the valley, and all the lakes
except that of Texcoco are above its level, there is no positive safety
from inundation at any hour. The lake just named is said to be only
about two feet below the level of the city plaza. As the valley is
entirely closed by a wall of mountains, there is no natural outlet for
these extensive waters. Lake Zumpango, with a surface ten miles square,
is twenty-nine feet higher than the average level of the city of Mexico.
Such drainage as is contemplated must tap and carry away these lakes
also, to obviate the danger of their flooding the capital on any
extraordinary emergency, else it will be of little avail.
At this writing there is quite a "boom" in land in the neighboring
suburbs of San Angel and Tacubaya, which present most desirable building
localities, and are free from the prominent objections of the capital
itself. The latter suburb already contains nearly ten thousand
inhabitants. It is situated on a hillside, sloping towards the
northwest. In its present form the town is quite modern, but from the
earliest times there has been a village here. After the great inundation
of 1629, the project of making this the site of the capital was
seriously considered. There is already a small alameda and a miniature
plaza in Tacubaya. San Angel is a couple of miles further away from the
city, and is also built on a hillside, amid orchards and gardens. The
deserted and ancient Carmelite monastery is a feature of this place.
Both Tacubaya and San Angel can be reached almost any hour of the day
from Mexico by tramway, the cars starting from the Plaza Mayor. It was
noticed that considerable building for domestic purposes was going on in
both of these places, but principally at Tacubaya, and it is thought the
citizens of Mexico are "hedging," as it were, by providing themselves
with pleasant and healthful homes in anticipation of some sort of
collapse which must sooner or later befall the business portions of the
capital. There is universal complaint regarding the high price of rents
in the city for respectable residences, quite a percentage having been
added to the rates heretofore charged each succeeding year. Drainage is
more and more seriously thought of by cutting an outlet of some sort, as
we have suggested, and what result may follow remains to be seen. That
there is a steady growth of population and business here is perfectly
obvious, stimulated by closer business connections with the United
States, which are being constantly added to. People who look in advance
see that ten years hence the two suburban towns will practically be part
and parcel of the city proper. The new buildings now erecting in
Tacubaya are observed to be of stone, and built to last. Wooden
structures are almost unknown. Iron is used for many purposes, taking
the place of wooden beams, as in this country. We were assured by
intelligent persons that all skilled mechanics were busy, such as
masons, iron-workers, plasterers, and carpenters. It is surprising to
the writer that more has not been said relative to the extraordinary
growth and prosperity of the national capital of Mexico. The most
prominent agent in bringing all this about is undoubtedly the Mexican
Central Railroad.
One easily becomes acquainted with the topography of the city, each
point of the compass leading directly to the mountains, while the town
itself forms a perfect level. The chief business street leads from the
railroad depot to the Plaza Mayor. The most fashionable shopping street
is that known as the Street of the Silversmiths. It is of good width,
and nearly a mile long. Calle de San Francisco is another of the main
business thoroughfares. As a rule, the many sacred titles given to the
streets come from the names of churches or convents which stood or still
stand in them. Thus the Street of the Holy Ghost contains the church so
designated. Several of the most important avenues, beside the Plaza
Mayor and the alameda, are lighted by electricity, other portions of the
city proper by gas, and the outlying districts by oil-fed lanterns. One
peculiar object, always observable in the city at night, is the bright
lantern of the policeman of the immediate beat, placed in the middle of
the junction of the streets, with the man himself standing beside it,
ready to answer any legitimate call for his services. The police system
of the capital is certainly excellent, and in the two weeks which we
passed there no such affair as a street brawl of any sort was seen,
though we visited all parts of the town, and at all hours of the day and
night. There are few of our own cities where the public peace is so
thoroughly preserved, or with so little demonstration, as is the case in
the capital of Mexico.
Our hotel, the Iturbide,--pronounced Eater-beady,--situated on the Calle
de San Francisco, and called after the emperor of the same name (Don
Agustin de Iturbide), is probably the best, as it is the largest in the
city; but this is faint praise. Hotel-keeping is one of the arts which,
at its best, has not yet been introduced into this country. Iturbide's
aspiration led him to assume the imperial crown, in consequence of which
he fell. After reigning for a twelvemonth, he was banished from Mexico
on parole never to return. This parole he broke, landing from Europe at
Vera Cruz in 1824. He was seized, thrown into prison, and was shot by
orders of the government, as a traitor, July 19 of the same year. The
old flint muskets used for the purpose hang beside the modern arms, in
the national armory, with which was performed a like sentence upon
Maximilian. Thus the two men who essayed the role of emperor of Mexico
ended their career. The Iturbide is spacious and well situated, being
within a few rods of the Plaza Mayor, and having once served as the
palace of the emperor whose name it bears. It is entered, like the
Palace Hotel of San Francisco, and the Grand Hotel of Paris, by an
archway leading into a spacious area or court, on whose four sides rises
the elaborate structure. Upon this patio the several stories open, each
with a line of balcony. This broad area, open to the sky, is paved with
marble, and has spacious stairways of the same material. The windows are
of the French, pattern and open down to the floor, so that the occupant
of each room steps out upon the balcony by passing through them. The
windows are the same on the public street side. The house is fairly well
furnished so far as comfort is concerned, and the beds--well, they might
possibly be worse,--domestic comfort is not the strong point in the
Iturbide, where cleanliness is also one of the lost arts. All the
chambermaids here, as in Japan, are men, and very good servants they
are, according to their light and the material which is furnished to
them. The fact that three fourths of them bear the name of Jesus is, it
must be admitted, a little confusing when it is desired to summon any
particular one. In the selection of a sleeping apartment the visitor
should be sure, if it is possible, to obtain one facing east or south,
thus securing an abundance of sunshine. Rooms situated otherwise, in
this climate particularly, are liable to be damp and even dangerous to
health, especially in a city which rests upon the surface, as it were,
of a hidden lake. Such facts may seem to be trifles to the casual
reader, but experience will soon teach him their real importance.
The broad, three-story front of the Iturbide Hotel is quite imposing,
and exhibits some very elaborate native carving in stone. We were told
that it was once occupied by a very rich and eccentric mine owner for
the accommodation of himself and family, embracing half a dozen wives
and over sixty children! quite after the style of a Turkish harem or the
establishment of a Utah magnate. A capacious and well-appointed hotel on
the American plan is something which this city greatly needs. It would
be welcomed and well-patronized by the native citizens, and all foreign
travelers would gladly seek its accommodations. It seems that a large
Mexican hotel designed to cost some two million dollars is already under
consideration by an incorporated company of wealthy natives; but this
will not, we believe, fill the requirements of the present time. The
Mexicans do not know how to keep a hotel, and any money expended in the
proposed plan, we suspect, will be next to thrown away. Government has
lent its aid to the purpose of establishing a new hotel on a grand
scale, by passing an act exempting from import duties all furniture and
goods intended for use in the house, to the amount of fifteen per cent,
on the entire capital invested in the enterprise of building and
properly equipping the establishment. This exemption from custom-house
taxes will prove a saving of considerably over two hundred thousand
dollars to the hotel company. Now, if this purpose is consummated and
the owners will put the whole in charge of an experienced American,
something satisfactory may come from it. The best hotels in the world
are kept by Americans,--this not in the spirit of boasting,--and next to
them in this line of business come the Swiss, who have copied us very
closely. The English follow, but rank only third in the line of
progress, while the Mexicans are simply nowhere. The Iturbide has no
ladies' or gentlemen's parlor, that is to say, it has no public
reception-room worthy of the name. The conventionalities here do not
absolutely demand such an arrangement, though it would be appreciated;
nor can one obtain any artificial heat in his apartment, however much it
may be required. There are no fireplaces or chimneys in the house, while
the other domestic accommodations are of the most primitive character.
As to food, the Iturbide is kept on the European plan, and one can order
according to his fancy. The service, however, is anything but neat or
clean. The meal-hours are divided as in France and continental Europe
generally: coffee and bread upon first rising, breakfast at noon, and
dinner at six o'clock in the evening. The proprietor has lately put into
service a very good steam elevator, which was at first deemed to be a
serious innovation. We heard of some rather ludicrous experiences which
occurred during the first few days of its use; but the people were very
soon reconciled to the comfort it afforded, and put aside their
prejudices. Even this elevator is so restricted in its running hours as
not to afford the guests the accommodation it should supply. As some one
has wittily said of the ballet-girl's costume, it begins too late and
leaves off too early.
The ice used in the city of Mexico comes from the top of the neighboring
range of mountains, but it is rarely seen except in bar-rooms, the
retail price being ten cents a pound. In order to obtain a cool
temperature for their drinking water, the people keep it in porous
earthen jars made by the native Indians. Rapid evaporation from the
outside of the vessels renders the water highly refreshing, indeed, cool
enough, the dry atmosphere is so very active an absorbent. The ice is
brought to the nearest railway station wrapped in straw, on the backs of
the peons, and is thus transported daily, no large quantity being kept
on hand.
Opening from the main patio of the Iturbide Hotel upon the level of the
street is a large billiard-saloon and bar-room combined. As our bedroom
was on the first chamber floor, and opened upon this patio, with a
little balcony and a long French window, we had the benefit nightly, as
well as daily, of all the ceaseless noises which usually emanate from
such a place. Billiard balls kept up their peculiar music until the wee
small hours of the morning, and all day on the Sabbath. The Mexicans,
like the Cubans, do not drink deep, but they drink often; and though it
is seldom that a respectably dressed person is seen intoxicated, either
on the streets or elsewhere, still the active bartenders of the Iturbide
drinking-saloon did not quit their posts until nearly broad daylight in
the morning. So our sleep in that palace hotel was achieved to the
accompaniment of clinking billiard-balls, the clatter of
drinking-glasses, the shaking up of iced mixtures, and the sharp voices
of disputants at the card-tables. However, a thoroughly tired person can
sleep under almost any circumstances; and after many hours each day
devoted to sight-seeing, the writer did not spend much time in
moralizing over the doings in the spacious apartment beneath him.
Regarding places of public entertainment, the city contains several
theatres and a permanent circus, but only one of the theatres seemed to
be patronized by the best people; namely, the Teatro Nacional, built so
late as 1844, and having seating capacity for three thousand persons.
The commencement exercises of the military school of Chapultepec are
given annually in this house. Here, at least one good opera company is
engaged for a brief season annually; indeed, there is some kind of
opera, French, Spanish, or Italian, nearly all the year round. Smoking
of cigarettes between the acts is freely indulged in by the audience;
and though the ladies do not smoke in public, at least not generally,
they are known to be free users of the weed at home. Three other
theatres, the Coliseo Viejo, the Arbeu, and the Hidalgo, are respectably
good; there are three or four others, minor establishments, all open on
Sundays, but they are to be avoided.
There is a spacious bull-ring at the northern end of the paseo, on the
left of the roadway as we drive towards Chapultepec, where exhibitions
are given to crowded assemblies every Sunday and on festal days. Of all
the public sports the bull-fight is the most cruel, being without one
redeeming feature to excuse its indulgence, while its evil moral effect
upon the people at large is clearly manifest. There is certainly a close
affinity between the Spanish language and the Latin, as well as a strong
resemblance between the old Roman masses and the modern Spanish people.
In the olden days the Roman populace cried, _Panem et circenses_ (bread
and circuses); so to-day the Spanish people shout, _Pan y toros_ (bread
and bulls). The bull-fight is a national institution here, as it is in
continental Spain and in Cuba, and is strongly indicative of the
character of the people. While we were in the country a bull-fight
performance was given on a Sunday in one of the large cities, as a
"benefit" towards paying for a new altar-rail to be placed in one of the
Romish churches. Only among a semi-barbarous people and in a Roman
Catholic country would such horrible cruelty be tolerated, and
especially as a Sabbath performance. This is the day when these shameful
exhibitions always take place, at Madrid as well as in Mexico, it being
also the most popular and fashionable evening of the week for theatrical
entertainments.
Some of our party attended one of these exhibitions in the city of
Mexico; but they very promptly and emphatically declared that nothing
could induce them again to witness anything of the sort, pronouncing it
to be only a repulsive butchery. The author had seen both in Spain and
in Cuba quite as much as he desired of this wretched national game, and
therefore he did not visit it on the occasion referred to above. A
distinguished citizen of the national capital, General H----, told us
that the better class of ladies did not now attend the bull-fights in
Mexico, though there are plenty of women who do so regularly. "I have
four grown-up daughters, one of whom is married," said he, "but neither
they nor their mother ever witnessed this debasing exhibition. Be
assured," he continued, "that the cultured class of our community do not
sympathize with these relics of barbarism." This is a sentiment which we
are gratified to record, more especially as at Madrid, the headquarters
of the cruel game, it has not only the full sanction of the public
officials and of the _elite_ of the Spanish capital, but the patronage
of royalty itself. The central box of the bull-ring in that city is
reserved for the court, and there are no empty seats during the
performance. A law was passed a few years since forbidding bull-fights
to take place in the Federal District of Mexico; but this law has been
repealed in accordance with the clamorous demand of a large majority of
the people; besides which the law was virtually inoperative, as these
exhibitions were held all the same, only they were removed to a few rods
beyond the boundary of the prohibited territory. The thought comes over
us that, after all, the bull-fight is but one degree worse than the
shameful prize-fights of professional bruisers in England and America.
One of the most admirable and practical charities established in the
Mexican capital is known as the Monte de Piedad, which is simply a
national pawn-shop. The title signifies, "The Mountain of Mercy." It was
originally founded more than a century since by Count Regla, the owner
of the famous silver mine of Real del Monte, who gave the sum of three
hundred thousand dollars for the purpose, in order that the poor and
needy of the population of this city might obtain advances of money on
personal property at a low and reasonable rate of interest. Any article
deposited for this purpose is valued by two disinterested persons, and
about three fourths of its intrinsic worth is promptly advanced. If the
owner ceases to pay the interest on the loan, the article in pawn is
kept six months longer, when it is exposed for sale at a marked price.
After six months more have expired, if the article is not disposed of,
it is sold at public auction, and all that is realized above the sum
which was advanced, together with the interest, is placed to the
original owner's credit. This sum, if not called for within a given
time, reverts to the bank. The capital of the institution has more than
doubled since its organization, but the amount of good which it has been
the means of accomplishing cannot be estimated. Its first effect was to
break up all the private pawn-brokers' establishments which charged
usurious interest for money, its own rates being placed at a low figure,
intended barely to meet necessary expenses. These exceedingly low rates
have always been scrupulously maintained. The average annual loans on
pledges amount to a million dollars, distributed among about fifty
thousand applicants. The establishment is also a sort of safe deposit.
All the goods in its vaults have not been pawned. As the place is a sort
of fortress in its way, many valuables are here stored for safe-keeping.
One dollar is the smallest sum that is loaned, and ten thousand dollars
is the largest. The loans will average from two to three hundred daily.
It appears that one third of the merchandise deposited is never
redeemed. Among other articles of this class is the diamond snuff-box
which was presented to Santa Anna when he was Dictator, and which cost
twenty-five thousand dollars. Tourists often call in at the Monte de
Piedad, looking for bargains in bricabrac, and sometimes real prizes are
secured at very reasonable cost. A gentleman showed the writer an old,
illuminated book, of a religious character, entirely illustrated by the
hand of some patriot recluse, which was marked five dollars, and upon
which probably four dollars had been loaned to the party who deposited
it. The time for its redemption had long since expired, and our friend
gladly paid the sum asked for it. He said he should take it to the Astor
Library, New York, where he felt confident of receiving his own price
for it, namely, one hundred dollars: "Then," said he, "I will give the
money to some worthy charity in my native city." The volume had
undoubtedly been stolen, and pawned by the thief. Possession is
considered to be _bona fide_ evidence of ownership, and unless
circumstances are very suspicious, money is nearly always advanced to
the applicant on his or her deposit.
Speaking of old books, there are three or four second-hand bookstalls
and stores under the arcades running along one side of the plaza, where
rare and ancient tomes are sold. Volumes, of the value of which the
venders seem to have no idea, are gladly parted with for trifling sums.
Civil wars and the changes of government have never interfered with the
operations of the Monte de Piedad. All parties have respected it and its
belongings, with one exception--during the presidency of Gonzales in
1884, when its capital was somewhat impaired and its usefulness
circumscribed by a levy of the government in its desperation to sustain
the national credit in connection with its foreign loans. A curious
collection of personal property is of course to be seen here, including
domestic furniture, diamonds, rubies, and other precious stones, swords,
pistols, guns, saddles, canes, watches, clothing, and so on. The large
building used for the purpose of carrying on the business stands upon
the site once occupied by the private palace which formed the home of
Cortez for so many years, a short distance west of the great cathedral.
This institution has lately been sold to an English syndicate for the
sum of one million dollars. The new owners have a cash capital of
twenty-five millions, and will resume the banking department, which was
suspended in 1884, and carry on the pawnbroking business as heretofore.
The alameda, a name usually applied to large Spanish parks, is a
parallelogram of about thirty or forty acres in extent, situated between
the two streets of San Francisco and San Cosme, abounding in eucalyptus
trees, poplars, evergreens, orange and lemon trees, together with
blooming flowers and refreshing fountains. In olden times this
alameda--this forest-garden in the heart of the city--was inclosed by a
wall pierced with several gates, which were only opened to certain
classes and on certain occasions; but these grounds, greatly enlarged
and beautified, are now open on all sides to the public, easily
accessible from the surrounding thoroughfares. We were told that the
name comes from the fact that the park was originally planted with
_alamos_, or poplars. One cannot forget, while standing upon the spot
and recalling the early days of the Spanish rule, that it was on a
portion of these grounds that the hateful Inquisition burned its
victims, because they would not subscribe to the Roman Catholic faith.
According to their own records, forty-eight unbelievers were here burned
at the stake at one time. We do not think that the Aztec idolaters ever
exceeded in wickedness or cruelty this fiendish act.
The alameda has a number of open circles with fountains in the centre,
about which stone benches are placed as seats. These spaces are much
frequented by children as playgrounds. An interesting aviary ornaments
one of the roomy areas, filled with a variety of native and exotic
birds, which attract crowds of curious observers. The inexhaustible
spring at Chapultepec supplies these fountains, besides many others in
various parts of the city, from whence water-carriers distribute the
article for domestic use. The alameda is the largest public garden in
the capital, of which there are twelve in all, and is the daily resort
of the corpulent priest for exercise; of the ambitious student for
thought and study; of the nursery maid with her youthful charge; and of
wooing lovers and coquettish senoritas, accompanied by their staid
chaperones. On Sunday forenoons a military band gives an out-of-door
concert in the central music stand, on which occasion all grades of the
populace come hither, rich and poor alike, the half-fed peon in his
nakedness and the well-clad citizen. All classes have a passion for
music. The cathedral empties itself, as it were, into the alameda just
after morning mass. This, be it remembered, is the forenoon. The closing
hours of the day are devoted to driving and promenading in the adjoining
Paseo de la Reforma. On the evenings of festal days, the central
pavilion, where the band is placed, as well as other parts of the
alameda, are illuminated with Chinese lanterns and electric lights
disposed among the trees and about the fountains, so that the artificial
lamps rival the light of day. On these gala occasions two or three
additional bands of musicians are placed at different points to assist
in the entertainment. The fountains play streams of liquid silver; the
military bands discourse stirring music; the people, full of merriment,
indulge in dulces, fruits, ice-cream, and confectionery, crowding every
available space in the fairy-like grounds, and Mexico is happy.
There is no noisy demonstration on these occasions. The multitude, we
must frankly acknowledge, are better behaved than any such assemblage
usually is in Boston or New York. All seem to be quiet, contented, and
enjoying themselves placidly. It should be mentioned, in this
connection, that all pulque shops in the capital are promptly closed at
six o'clock P. M. throughout the year. This is imperative and
without exception; consequently, no evening disturbance is to be
anticipated from that source. It was found that there are over two
thousand _pulquerias_ in the capital. The effect of this special
stimulant, however, is not to make those who indulge freely in it
pugnacious or noisy. It acts more like a powerful narcotic, and puts
those who are overcome with it to sleep, having, in fact, many of the
properties of opium. The gilded bar-rooms where the upper classes seek
refreshment, who, by the way, seem rarely to abuse the privilege, are
permitted to remain open until midnight, but into them the common people
have not the wherewithal to procure entrance. A tumbler of pulque which
costs them a penny they indulge in, but drinks at fifteen or twenty
cents each, and in small portions at that, are quite beyond their means.
A somewhat peculiar effect of pulque drinking was also mentioned to us.
The people who partake of it freely have an aversion to other
stimulants, and prefer it to any and all others without regard to cost.
The beer-drinking German is often similarly affected as regards his
special tipple. Chemical test shows pulque to contain just about the
same percentage of alcohol as common beer; say, five or six per cent.
Besides witnessing the foul deeds of the Inquisition when the priesthood
publicly burned and otherwise tortured unbelievers, the alameda has
frequently been the scene of fierce struggles, gorgeous church
spectacles, and many revolutionary parades. Here scores of treasonable
acts have been concocted, and daring robberies committed in the
troublous times not long past. To-day it is peaceable enough; so quiet
in the summer afternoons, here in the very heart of the busy city, that
the drone of the busy humming-birds among the flowers comes soothingly
upon the ear of the wakeful dreamer. Quiet now, but awaiting the next
upheaval, for such, we are sorry to say, is pretty sure to come, sooner
or later; the Roman Catholic Church party is not dead, but sleepeth. A
strong, costly, and united effort on its part, stimulated from Rome, to
once more gain control of the government of Mexico, has been
successfully defeated without an open outbreak since the second term of
President Diaz commenced. The success of the church party would simply
throw Mexico back half a century in her march of improvement towards a
higher state of civilization. It would check all educational progress,
all commercial advance, and smother both political and religious
freedom.
The number of infant children, strapped or tied to their mothers' backs,
that one sees in the streets of the capital, and indeed all through the
country, is something marvelous. The fecundity of the peons is beyond
all calculation. Eight women out of ten, belonging to the humbler
classes, are sure to be thus encumbered. Marriages take place here at as
early an age as in Cuba or South America, namely, at twelve years. Few
young girls among the common people remain unmarried after fourteen
years of age, or rather there are few of them that do not bear children
as early as that. Marriage among the poor is a ceremony not always
considered necessary, and, indeed, as a rule, they are too poor to pay
the priest the price he charges for performing the ceremony. Speaking
of marriage, this relationship among people of position and property is
assumed under somewhat peculiar circumstances in Mexico. First, a civil
marriage takes place, which makes all children born to the contracting
parties legitimate. After this civil rite is duly complied with, perhaps
a day and perhaps ten intervening, the usual church ceremony is
performed, and then the bride and bridegroom join each other to enjoy
their honeymoon, but until the latter ceremony is consummated, the
couple are as much separated as at any time of their lives. Why this
delay in consummation takes place is by no means clear to an outsider.
One not infrequently sees a mother carrying two infants at a time
wrapped in her rebosa, and tied across her chest; only ten months of age
separating the little creatures. Besides these infants the mother
carries her burden of vegetables, fruit, baskets, or pottery, to dispose
of in the market near the plaza. Like Japanese and Chinese babies, these
little ones seldom, if ever, cry, but submit patiently and with apparent
indifference to what seems to be a very trying position, as well as to
almost total neglect. These children were never in a bed since they were
born. They probably sleep at night upon a straw mat spread upon the
earthen floor, and we much doubt if they are ever washed. Sometimes the
father is seen carrying the baby, but this is very rare; the women take
the laboring oar almost always here, as among our Indian tribes, the
people of the East, and the South Sea Islanders. This is a
characteristic applicable not alone to the national capital, but
observable again and again all over the republic. Though so very poor,
and doubtless often suffering from hunger, the half naked people are not
infrequently seen with a cigarette between the lips. Drunkenness is
seldom seen, notwithstanding that pulque is cheap and potent, and it is
very rarely the case, as already intimated, that any quarreling is
witnessed among the people. They are quiet and orderly, as a rule, yet
most of them are homeless and hopeless.
Though begging is chronic with the Spanish race everywhere, and
notoriously prevalent in continental Spain, persistent in Havana and
Matanzas, and nearly universal throughout the Mexican republic, still,
in the national capital it is far less obtrusive than elsewhere, because
the police are instructed to suppress it. So, also, begging is
prohibited by law in Paris, London, and Boston, but how constantly the
law is disregarded we all know. Sad is the condition of things which, as
Thackeray expresses it, gives the purple and fine linen to one set of
men, and to the other rags for garments and dogs for comforters.
It is not uncommon to see a family group, mother, father, and one or two
children, huddled close together in a street corner, where they have
passed the night, sleeping in a half upright position, while leaning
against an adobe wall. In an early morning walk towards the Paseo de la
Viga, we saw just such a scene, with the addition of a mongrel dog,
which had so bestowed himself as to give the shelter of his body as well
as its natural warmth to a couple of small children. One thing the
reader may be assured of, to wit: the whole family, including the dog,
had a hearty and nourishing breakfast that morning at least.