CHAPTER XIII.

COURTSHIP IN MEXICO.--"PLAYING THE BEAR."--LOVERS' TROUBLES.--A SHORT

ROAD TO MATRIMONY.--PRESENTS TO THE EXPECTANT BRIDE.--THE MARRIAGE

CEREMONY.--TEDIOUS PRELIMINARIES.--CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS

MARRIAGES.--DIFFERENCES OF MARRIAGE AMONG THE COMMON PEOPLE AND THE

UPPER CLASSES.--A HAND-BOOK FOR LOVERS.--FUNERALS; HOW THEY ARE

MANAGED.--CARDS OF CONDOLENCE.--CEMETERIES.--MONUMENT TO AMERICAN

SOLDIERS.--ANNUAL DEATH-RATE IN MEXICO CITY.--PREVALENT

DISEASES.--DOMESTIC SERVANTS; THEIR NUMBER, WAGES, AND MODE OF LIFE.--A

PECULIAR LAUNDRY SYSTEM.

One day while Frank and Fred were strolling along the streets, observing

the people and their ways, studying the architecture, and making other

observations, according to their custom, their attention was drawn to a

young man who was walking slowly up and down in front of a house. His

movements were so peculiar that Frank asked their guide what the man was

about.

[Illustration: A FORTUNATE BEAR.]

"Oh, he's playing the bear!" was the reply.

"And what is 'playing the bear?' I would like to know," the youth

responded.

"He's making love," the guide explained; "that's the Mexican way of

courtship."

This was a subject of special interest to the youths, as they knew their

sisters and all the other young ladies at home would wish to know about

it. Accordingly, they proceeded to inform themselves concerning the

Mexican form of wooing, and here is the result of their inquiries:

"Courtship in this country," wrote Frank, "is a serious matter, and

requires a great deal of patience. Young ladies are carefully secluded

from anything more than the most formal acquaintance with young men, and

there is no such thing here as the freedom of social manners that we

have at home. When a young man has fixed his thoughts upon a fair damsel

whom he has met at a party, or to whom he has been introduced in the

Zocalo, he begins his courtship by walking up and down the street in

front of her house and keeping his eyes fixed on one of the balconies,

which he has somehow ascertained is the proper one for his gaze. A hint

has been conveyed to the young lady that he will be there, and also to

her parents and sisters. This hint may be given by the priest, who

frequently serves as an intermediary; by some relative of the young man;

or by means of a note sent to the young lady herself through the medium

of the _portero_, or door-keeper, whose trouble must be paid for with

cash in advance.

[Illustration: MEXICAN COURTSHIP.]

"This promenading in front of the house is kept up for hours at a time

day after day, and also at night, and is what is called 'playing the

bear.' It is generally done on foot, but sometimes the lover appears on

horseback, the lady having been notified, through the subsidized

portero, at what hour he may be expected.

[Illustration: CODE-SIGNALLING WITH THE FAN.]

"The lover is observed by the lady and her mother and the other feminine

members of the family, who sit inside the window and are partially, if

not wholly, screened from sight. If the match is favored by the parents

the 'bear business' lasts only a month, or perhaps two or three months;

but if it is not so favored the lover may keep it up for a long time, or

until he gets discouraged and withdraws his suit. Of course it happens

here as in other countries that parental opposition occasionally

develops the young lady's affection, and then the young couple resort to

all sorts of stratagems to exchange _billets-doux_. Letters are raised

or lowered by means of strings, or transmitted through the hands of the

portero already mentioned. In the case of parental opposition the

portero runs a great risk, and consequently must be highly paid.

Courtship under such circumstances is a luxury that only the affluent

can afford.

"When the proper time arrives, provided everything is running smoothly,

the young man, accompanied by a gentleman friend older than himself,

calls on the father of the girl, and makes a proposal for her hand. The

father says he will see about it, and the visitors take their leave.

"The father asks the girl if she desires to marry the young man. However

much she may desire to do so she must profess indifference and say she

cannot tell until she has met him. Then he is invited to call, and when

he responds he is met by the entire family, including the servants.

After he becomes the _novio oficial_, or accepted lover, he has the

privilege of calling without a friend; but at no time is he ever left

for a moment alone with the young lady. All interviews must be in the

presence of a member of the family or of a duenna, no matter how long

the courtship may continue after the formal acceptance.

[Illustration: "THERE HE IS."]

"As the time for the marriage ceremony approaches the groom has a

serious matter to contemplate--the 'matter o' money' connected with

matrimony. He must furnish the house and home, and also buy the bridal

outfit. Not infrequently the parents of the bride relieve him of a part

of the expense, though they allow him to buy the jewels and bridal

dresses. One thing that he must provide, according to a

long-established custom, is an ivory-covered prayer-book; whatever else

he fails in he must not be negligent in this. Eight or ten weeks before

the ceremony, the pair must register at church, giving their names,

ages, etc., very much as they do in some of the American States. A

similar registry is made at the civil office. The banns must be

published for five Sundays, and the bride must state before the priest

and a notary that she marries 'of her own free-will.' The civil marriage

takes place a few days before the ceremony in the church, and when the

matter is ended the young couple are fairly launched into wedded life."

"Hadn't you better say something," Fred remarked, "about the ceremony

itself?"

"That's hardly necessary," replied Frank, "as it is not much unlike the

ceremony in all Catholic countries, and has been described over and over

again. There are some local customs, however, that may be worth noting;

for instance, a lady describes a wedding that she saw here in a church,

where the groom passed several gold coins into the bride's hands, as an

indication that she was to manage their financial affairs. But the

chances are more than even that he did not permit her to do anything of

the kind. When they knelt at the altar a silken scarf was put around

their shoulders and a silver cord around their necks, to indicate their

complete union."

"A cynical commentator might say," observed Fred, "that the silver cord

indicated that the couple was united by financial considerations."

"That's something I've nothing to do with," answered Frank, quietly;

"we'll go on with our description. But it is said that marriages in

Mexico depend more on social, family, or business matters than upon

sentiment."

"After the church ceremony," he continued, "there is a festival to which

intimate friends are invited. Then the pair send cards to all friends

and reasonably intimate acquaintances announcing their marriage, and the

notice winds up with an equivalent for the 'at home' card of married

couples in the United States and England.

[Illustration: A STUDENT OF "EL SECRETARIO."]

"And one thing more," added Frank, "while we are on this subject. A

woman who never marries is not stigmatized as an 'old maid,' as is often

the case in the Northern States. Nobody ever thinks of suggesting that

she has never had an offer of marriage; the remark about her always is

that 'she is difficult to suit' even though no man may ever have thought

of showing her any attention.

[Illustration: MEXICAN WEDDING IN THE COUNTRY.]

"Of course, you understand that in the marriage just described I had the

upper classes in mind. Among the common people there is much less

ceremony and formality; marriages are generally arranged by the parish

priest, who conducts the principal part of the negotiations, and he has

also a great deal to say on the subject among the middle, or tradesman,

class. There is as much feasting and revelry as the parties can afford,

and generally more than is prudent for them. Sometimes matches are made

up by the parents of the young couple, without any consultation with

them; but as children in this country are obedient to their parents,

they are very unlikely to make any opposition to matches thus arranged."

Frank invested a real in a pamphlet called "El Secretario de los

Amantes," or, to translate somewhat freely, "the hand-book of lovers."

It is probably the most widely circulated book in the Mexican republic,

and is as popular among young people as is "The Complete Letter-Writer,"

among those whose education has not been all they could wish, and who

have occasion for epistolary correspondence.

The earnest attention which was given to this little work as soon as it

fell into the hands of the youths led to a suspicion on the part of the

Doctor that Frank and Fred meditated a little love-making on their own

account, by way of experiment. But so far as we have been informed,

nothing of the kind occurred; should any later information on the

subject come to hand, it will be duly set forth in the second edition of

"The Boy Travellers in Mexico."

The "Secretario" contains a code of cipher writing, forms for using

numerals in place of the letters of the alphabet, symbols for each of

the twenty-four hours of the day and night or the fractions thereof, and

the one-hand alphabet for deaf-mutes. The necessity for this alphabet in

love-making, and the practice that comes from it, may probably be the

reason why many Spanish-Americans occasionally make signs in

conversation, instead of speaking in words. There are chapters of advice

to lovers, and there is a full signal code for the use of the fan, the

handkerchief, the sombrero, and the glove. Spanish women have long been

famed for their skill with the fan, and for the conversations they can

conduct with its aid, and it has a very important place in the language

of love.

[Illustration: FLOWERS FOR A LADY.]

In most editions of the book there is a separate chapter on the language

of flowers and their various meanings accordingly as they are arranged

or combined with others. A love-story can be told in the skilful

construction of a bouquet--at least enough of it to form the opening

chapter. There is also a language of fruits, and Fred suggested that

there should be one of tortillas, frijoles, tamals, and other articles

of the Mexican cuisine.

"Here is a wide range," said he, "for the author of 'El Secretario.'

Provide each of the lovers with a thermometer, and then the temperature

of a tortilla, as it is tossed into or out of a window, can be made to

express a great deal. Forty degrees Fahrenheit might mean, 'My love is

cold,' and one hundred and twenty degrees would say, 'I'm sighing like

the furnace.' Ninety degrees signifies, 'Look out for the old

gentleman,' and one hundred would literally say, 'I'm up to par.' The

new edition of the book, with the tortilla annex, ought to sell like--"

"Like hot cakes," Frank remarked, and then the subject of matrimony was

dropped.

The youths next considered the subject of the funeral, a ceremony with

which the Church has quite as much to do as with weddings. It was Fred's

turn to make an investigation, and commit his information to writing,

and the following is the result of his efforts:

[Illustration: FUNERAL OF GENERAL DOBLADO, GUANAJUATO.]

"One of the odd things about funerals in this city," wrote the youth,

"is that they go by rail to the cemetery. The enterprising manager of

the street railways formed his scheme, and then bought up all the

hearses, so as to compel the populace to adopt his plan. There was

opposition to it at first, but a short trial showed that it was much

more economical than the old system. There is a good service of funeral

cars, and they are graduated to suit all purses that have any money at

all in them. The range of prices is from three to one hundred and twenty

dollars; for the lowest sum a single car drawn by a mule is supplied,

and for the highest figure one may have a hearse-car, gorgeously draped,

plumed, and liveried, drawn by a pair of black horses, and with

attendants appropriately liveried and of most solemn countenance. The

hearse-car is followed by two, and perhaps three cars, containing the

mourners, friends of the deceased, and others, who go to make up the

funeral cortége, and these cars are as appropriately draped as the

hearse. Ranging between the highest and lowest figures are half a dozen

or even more 'outfits,' so that any desires can be met.

"Another curious custom is that poor people rent handsome coffins to be

used during the funeral ceremony, the body being transferred to a plain

unpainted box as soon as it reaches the cemetery.

"Funeral cards are printed in the newspapers along with the

advertisements, and sometimes they have been inadvertently placed among

the 'amusements.' They are also posted on the street corners and in

other places where they can be seen, and printed cards heavily bordered

with black are sent to relatives and friends. There is a fashionable

card form for a funeral as much so as for a wedding, and it would be a

great social blunder to vary from the conventional style. Friends and

relatives must respond to these cards, and any one who has a large

circle of acquaintance is obliged to write a good many notes of

condolence in the course of a year.

"When we first arrived in the city we were somewhat surprised at the

large number of people in mourning, until we learned that mourning is

worn not only for relatives but for friends, and there is a prescribed

time for which it must be worn in each case. Suppose a school-girl's

father or mother dies, her companions put on mourning for fifteen days;

if the girl herself dies they go into mourning for a month. The same

rule holds throughout society, and there is also a rule that when one

visits a house where the family is in mourning, the visitor must be

costumed in mourning also. The result is that fashionable people are in

mourning for a goodly part of the year, and a mourning suit, or dress,

is a necessity for everybody's wardrobe.

"It is not the custom generally for ladies to attend funerals, but they

send cards of condolence and make visits of _pésame_ (regret)

immediately after the ceremony. Families in mourning are secluded from

society very much as in other civilized countries.

"The old cemeteries which are now in the city limits are closed, and no

more burials can be made there. They have a general resemblance to the

cemeteries that we described in chapter xxii. of 'The Boy Travellers in

South America.' Those who can afford permanent burial for their

relatives or friends take a perpetual lease of the niche where the

corpse is deposited; in such case the word _propiedad_ is placed over

the entrance, along with the date when the entombment was made. If only

a temporary lease is taken, the remains are removed at the end of five

years to make room for a new tenant. The bones are either buried in one

of the new cemeteries or thrown into a pit, where the bones of hundreds

who once breathed the air and walked the streets of Mexico are

indiscriminately mingled. The new cemeteries are laid out in modern

fashion; we visited those of Campo Florida and La Piedad and saw some

very tasteful tombs, which indicated to us both the tender remembrance

of the Mexicans for their dead and the skill of the designers of the

monuments.

[Illustration: SOLDIERS' MONUMENT IN THE AMERICAN CEMETERY.]

"We have also visited the English, French, German, and American

cemeteries; all of them have recently increased their population with

greater rapidity than formerly, owing to the influx of foreigners. In

the American cemetery our attention was specially drawn to the monument

which marks the resting-place of four hundred soldiers who fell in the

attack upon Mexico, the circumstance of their death being told by a

brief inscription. The English and American cemeteries are side by

side, and as time goes on it is probable that both will need additional

ground.

"A medical publication here gives the annual death-rate of the city of

Mexico as about 37 in 1000, but it says that many Indians come here from

the lower lands and die of exposure and the effects of the rarefied air

at this great elevation. In one year recently there were 13,008 deaths,

of which 5577 were males and 6431 females; 4292 deaths were from

pneumonia, bronchitis, and pulmonary and tuberculous affections, and

there were 179 deaths from small-pox. Diseases of the lungs are dreaded,

and those who have resided here for any length of time take great

precautions against them. It is not considered safe to remove the hat in

the open air for any length of time, and a stranger should be very

particular about venturing into a draught. He should also take care not

to emerge suddenly from a dimly lighted room to the dazzling sunshine;

the air at this elevation is very pure, and the light is consequently

strong. We have been told that persons neglecting this precaution have

become permanently blind."

[Illustration: TAKING THINGS EASY.]

Frank and Fred had learned, before being long in Mexico, that there were

many things to be avoided in the rarefied air of the valley, or, if not

avoided, they should be taken with caution. Ascending stair-ways, or

other laborious exercise, at an elevation of 7600 feet had to be done

with deliberation, and the least unusual exertion was sure to put them

out of breath. They were more sedate in their walking than in New York

or other cities on or near the sea-level, and as for running, it was

quite out of the question. Frank said he was sure that much of the

traditional slowness of the people was due to their high elevation, and

the need of taking things easily.

"Yes," replied Fred, "that's probably why this is the land of mañana.

The people don't like exertion, and so they put off till to-morrow

everything that can be postponed, together with many things that have

been positively promised for to-day."

"If they had been in a more northerly climate," said Frank, "it is

probable that the Mexicans would be more advanced than we find them.

Their location in the tropics has not been to their advantage. The

opening of our railways will connect them with northern climes, and if

we can fill the Valley of Mexico with our atmosphere it may enable them

to breathe quicker than they do now."

[Illustration: A CHARCOAL PEDDLER.]

The attention of the youths was turned from the elevation and atmosphere

to some of the customs of the country, which they had learned from their

guide or from others. They were told that it was estimated that about

one-fifth the population was in household or domestic service in one

form or another, directly or indirectly. The direct form would include

those attached to a household, the indirect those who supply water,

wood, charcoal, and other necessities of life, or perform outside work

for families or individuals. The wages are low, but a great many

servants are employed, so that the aggregate foots up to a large amount.

"There are from ten to twenty servants employed in a house," wrote Fred,

"and we are told that large establishments will have thirty or even

more. It is very much here as we found it in India--a great number of

people, each with an allotted thing to do, and a servant would risk

losing his place rather than do anything that belonged to another.

"Here's a list," he added, "that I have copied from the description of a

Mexican household by an American visitor: _portero_, door-keeper;

_cochero_, coachman; _lacayo_, footman; _caballerango_, hostler; _mozo_,

man of all sorts of work; _cargador_, public carrier; _camarista_,

chamber-man in a hotel, or valet in a private house; _recamerera_,

chamber-maid in a private house; _ama de llaves_, house-keeper,

'mistress of the keys;' _cocinera_, cook; _galopina_, kitchen girl;

_pilmana_, nurse-maid.

"There are other servants, such as the _molendera_, the woman who grinds

the corn (for making tortillas); the _costurera_, sewing-woman; or the

_planchadora_, ironing-woman. The most important servant is the

_portero_, who has general charge of the house, and sometimes of a large

building in which several families live. He is the exact counterpart of

the German door-keeper, and, like him, generally lives with his family

in a narrow retreat, which is situated so that he can command the

entrance and observe who comes in or goes out. Servants do not change

places as often as in England or the United States. It is by no means

rare for them to spend their entire lives with a family; their parents

before them served it, and their children will do so when they

themselves are gone.

"The cook receives from two to five dollars a month, and chamber-maids

and seamstresses the same. The men-servants are paid from ten dollars a

month upwards, and out of their wages they are required to buy part of

their food, and in some cases all of it. At least this is the theory,

though the practice is that the employer really supports them, though

indirectly. Servants are nearly always in debt to their employers, and

this state of affaire is encouraged by law, as they are not allowed to

leave a place as long as they are in debt. The only way in which this

can be done is for the employer to assume the debt, pay the creditor,

and then collect the amount by holding back a portion of the servant's

wages each month till the obligation is discharged."

When Fred read aloud the foregoing account of the Mexican servants and

their ways, Doctor Bronson suggested that he might add something about

the _lavanderas_, or laundresses.

"That's so," replied the youth; "I had forgotten about them for the

moment." Then he sat down and wrote as follows:

"Some of the houses have laundries, where the washing is done; but many

dwellings are not thus provided, and the clothes are taken outside to be

cleansed. In the smaller cities the washing is done on the banks of a

stream or lake; the clothes being first put into a tub or box and soaked

in water in which soap has been dissolved; then they are pounded with

sticks or stones and rubbed with the hands. The work is not done with

gentleness, and a few trips to the laundry generally wear out garments

made of ordinary material. Some of the lavanderas undertake to wash,

starch, and iron the clothes, while others attend only to the washing,

and leave the other work as a separate contract with the planchadora.

The employer is generally expected to furnish soap for washing clothes,

and very often the servants are supplied with it for their own use, in

addition to their wages."

[Illustration: A MEXICAN WASH-HOUSE.]

The Boy Travellers in Mexico Adventures of Two Youths in a Journey to Northern and Central Mexico, Campeachey, and Yucatan, With a Description of the Republics of Central America and of the Nicaragua Canal · 第 13 / 34 章