SCULPTURE AND PAINTING IN MEXICO.--NATIONAL SCHOOL OF THE FINE
ARTS.--BRIEF HISTORY OF MEXICAN ART.--CELEBRATED PAINTINGS.--"LAS CASAS
PROTECTING THE AZTECS."--"THE DEATH OF ATALA."--HOW AN ARTIST MANAGED TO
SELL A PICTURE.--FROM ART TO _PULQUERIAS_.--THE NATIONAL BEVERAGE OF
MEXICO.--THE MAGUEY PLANT.--HOW _PULQUE_ IS MADE.--COLLECTING THE
SAP.--FERMENTING _AGUAMIEL_.--DAILY CONSUMPTION OF _PULQUE_ IN THE CITY
OF MEXICO.--MANAGEMENT OF THE SHOPS.--ROMANTIC HISTORY OF THE INVENTION
OF _PULQUE_.--MEXICAN POLICE-COURTS.--NOVEL MODE OF TRYING CASES.--THE
BELEM PRISON.--CATALOGUE OF OFFENCES AGAINST THE LAW.--AN ADROIT
THIEF.--RUNNING THE GANTLET.
From laundries to the fine arts is a step from the practical to the
æsthetic. After finishing their account of Mexican domestic service,
Frank and Fred accompanied Doctor Bronson in a visit to the National
School of Fine Arts, which is commonly spoken of as the Academy of San
Carlos. It must not be understood that this was their first visit to
this excellent institution; they had been there several times, and it
was their intention to continue to look at the paintings in the Academy
whenever they had an hour or two to spare.
[Illustration: THE LANDING OF COLUMBUS.]
Within ten years after the arrival of Cortez a college was founded in
the city of Mexico by one of the Franciscan brothers, and to this
college departments of music and drawing were attached. This may be
considered the parent art school of Mexico, and from it is descended the
Academy of Fine Arts as we see it to-day. No great progress was made in
art matters until near the end of the sixteenth century, when a Spanish
artist, Sebastian Arteaga, came to Mexico, and was shortly followed by
Vasquez and Echave, the last-named being accompanied by his wife, who
was an accomplished painter, and is traditionally said to have been
Echave's teacher.
The seventeenth century brought several artists from Spain, and they did
some good work; at the same time native talent began to assert itself,
and several artists and sculptors of Indian blood made for themselves
lasting names. In the eighteenth century the most noted artist, who was
also sculptor and architect, was Tresguerras, a native of Zelaya, in the
State of Guanajuato, on the line of the Mexican Central Railway, and he
deserves more than passing mention.
[Illustration: MEXICAN SCULPTURE.--DOOR-WAY OF CHURCH OF SAN JOSÉ.]
The Church of Our Lady of Carmen, at Zelaya, was designed by
Tresguerras, and is famous throughout Mexico for its beauty and artistic
proportions. The tower and dome are especially the admiration of
architects and artists, and the whole effect of the structure, whether
in a near or a distant view, is most agreeable. The interior is adorned
with frescoes and paintings in oil by Tresguerras, and he has been, not
inappropriately, styled "the Michael Angelo of Mexico."
Frank and Fred gleaned the foregoing information from Mr. Janvier's
"Mexican Guide," during their first visit to the Academy, and they also
learned from the same excellent authority that the present Academy had
its actual beginning in 1779 through a school of engraving established
in the mint. The success of the engraving school and the general
interest in it caused the director of the mint to seek the permission of
the viceroy to establish schools of painting, sculpture, and
architecture; and the permission was readily granted. Later the matter
was referred to the King, who issued, in December, 1783, an order for
the foundation of the Academy. On the 4th of November, 1785, the formal
opening of the Academia de las Nobles Artes de San Carlos de la Nueva
España took place, and this is the institution which the youths visited
on repeated occasions whenever they had any spare time on their hands.
It is proper to say that the school was originally opened in the mint,
but in 1791 it was removed to the building where it now is.
Like most other institutions of Mexico, it has had many ups and downs,
consequent upon the political changes through which the country has
passed. At present it has an allowance of about $35,000 annually from
the Government, and is regularly a Government affair, its name having
been changed in 1868 to the National School of the Fine Arts. Prizes are
given for meritorious work by the students, all tuition is free, and
there is an average attendance of about one hundred throughout the year.
One prize which is specially sought is an allowance of $600 a year for
six years to enable the recipient to study art in Italy. Within the last
few years night classes have been established for working-people, and
have been well attended.
"We will not undertake to give you a list of all the paintings we saw,"
wrote Frank, "nor even a part of them, as in any event it would be
tedious to anybody at a distance. The pictures are arranged in three
large galleries and two small ones, and they are grouped together
according to their age and the nativity of their painters. One gallery
contains paintings by the old masters of Europe, another is devoted to
old Mexican masters, and another to pupils of the Academy.
[Illustration: LAS CASAS PROTECTING THE AZTECS.]
"The finest picture in the last-named collection, that of the pupils of
the Academy, is by Felix Parra, and is entitled 'Las Casas protecting
the Aztecs.' Parra painted it before he had seen any country except
Mexico, and he received the first prize at the Academy of Rome on
account of the merit displayed in this work. I will not attempt to
describe the painting, but send a photograph by which you may judge of
it. The coloring is, of course, lost in the photograph, but you can get
an idea of the drawing and the sentiment of the picture. Las Casas is
represented standing on the steps of a teocalli, and at his feet is the
dead body of a Mexican chief, who has been slain by the Spaniards; while
an Aztec woman clings imploringly to the robe of the priest.
"The painting is a historic one, and the story it illustrates is this:
"Las Casas was a Spanish prelate who accompanied Columbus to the West
Indies and afterwards came to Mexico. He was horrified at the treatment
of the natives by their conquerors, and he crossed the ocean no less
than twelve times to intercede with the King of Spain in their behalf.
He was unsuccessful in nearly all his efforts, though he finally
persuaded the Emperor Charles V. to make some effort to redress the
wrongs which the Indians were suffering at the hands of the Spaniards.
He risked his life on many occasions on behalf of the natives, as we
read in Prescott's histories, and when the Emperor offered him the
bishopric of Cuzco, one of the richest appointments in the Spanish
colonies, he declined it and accepted that of Chiapas, one of the
poorest and most ignorant. He died in Madrid in 1566, at the age of
ninety-two years.
"Every time we visit the gallery we linger in front of this picture, and
are never weary of admiring and studying it. Many good critics pronounce
it not only the best painting in the gallery where it hangs, but the
best in the entire collection of the Academy. This is high praise,
indeed, when we remember that the Academy has works by Leonardo da
Vinci, Murillo, Rubens, Correggio, and Velasquez.
[Illustration: THE DEATH OF ATALA.]
"Another fine painting of the modern Mexican school is the 'Death of
Atala.' Felix Parra is represented by other works in addition to the Las
Casas; one of these is 'The Massacre in the Temple,' which also has
historic value. It illustrates the butchery of the natives in the temple
by Alvarado, whom Cortez had left at the capital city while he
personally went to the coast to meet the ships and troops that had been
sent from Cuba to reinforce the invading army. As the history of Mexico
was closely identified with the Church down to within twenty years or
so, it naturally occurs that nearly all the paintings of former days are
of a religious character, just as we find the paintings in the galleries
of Europe."
[Illustration: A SUCCESSFUL ARTIST AT WORK.]
One day in their visit to the Academy the youths met a gentleman to whom
they had been previously introduced, and one of them asked if the
wealthy people of Mexico gave much encouragement to native art.
"I'm sorry to say they do not," was the reply. "It has not yet become
the fashion to buy modern paintings, but some of our rich men are
setting the example, and as the country becomes developed and more
wealthy, the example may be followed. But just at present the best
patrons of art are the _pulque_ shops, and as their patrons are not very
critical, it does not require a high talent to meet their wants. In
private houses there is a greater demand for huge mirrors than for fine
paintings, and the value of the plate-glass mirrors in the city of
Mexico is far beyond that of the modern works of art to be found here.
Many an artist of fair promise has been obliged to abandon the dream of
his life, and obtain a living by painting for the _pulquerias_, or
selling silk and woollens behind the counter of a shop."
The gentleman then told a story of a native artist who had painted a
canvas some eight feet by six, representing "The Landing of Columbus."
Months and months passed and he could not find a purchaser though he
lowered his price to half its original figure; then at the advice of a
friend he made a few changes in the ships, costumes, coloring, and
scenery, and entitled the picture "Evacuation of Mexico by the French."
In less than a week he found a customer who made not the least objection
to the price which was set upon the work.
The mention of pulquerias naturally drew attention to those
establishments, which abound in Mexico as do beer shops in New York.
Fred undertook an essay concerning them and the substance in which they
deal.
"Pulque is the product of the _Agave Mexicana_, or maguey plant," wrote
the youth, "and a description of Mexico without a reference to it would
be like 'Hamlet' without Hamlet. It is the beverage of Mexico as beer is
that of Germany and wine the drink of France. Along the line of the
railway, as we were coming southward, we passed many fields of maguey,
and several times we saw the collectors gathering the juice of the plant
for conversion into pulque.
"Nobody knows when pulque was invented, as it was in use here centuries
before Cortez was born. There are many fables concerning it, and like
most fables of the kind, the discovery of the use which could be made of
the juice of the maguey is generally attributed to the gods. One more
practicable fable is that a Toltec noble discovered it and sent some of
the pulque to the King, by the hand of his daughter, Xochitl. The King
was so delighted with the drink and the maiden that he swallowed the
former and married the latter, and their son succeeded him as king. This
was the beginning of the downfall of the Toltecs and their extinction as
a nation, but the art of making pulque was not lost; the name of the
lovely Xochitl has been preserved in the Aztec name of the beverage,
_ochtl_. During our war with Mexico the soldiers under Generals Taylor
and Scott drank the liquid, and in attempting to pronounce its Aztec
name they generally got no nearer to it than 'cocktail.' They carried
the word back to the States, and Doctor Bronson tells us that it is
occasionally heard there at this day in clubs and hotels, where it is
applied to beverages in which spirits, bitters, and other ingredients
are mingled.
[Illustration: MAGUEY PLANT.]
"The maguey belongs to the cactus family of plants, and there are said
to be forty varieties of it. Twenty-two yield _aguamiel_, or
honey-water, from which pulque is made, and the others are used for
hedges and for making paper, cords, and other things. In former times
the natives are said to have had not less than a hundred uses for the
maguey plant in addition to its production of pulque. They made paper
from the pulp of the leaves, cords and thread from the fibre, needles
from the thorns, shingles and troughs from the leaves, and the little
clothing they wore was generally made from the thread derived from the
maguey. The leaves are sometimes ten feet long by a foot wide, and like
the leaves of the other members of the cactus family, they are of great
thickness.
"When the maguey plant is about ten years old it sends up a single
stalk in the centre which often rises to a height of twenty-five or
thirty feet. This stalk is covered with flowers, hundreds and sometimes
thousands of them, and they are of a yellowish green color. After
blossoming the plant dies, very much as does the sago-tree and some
other tropical growths; a single blossoming is all that it is capable of
in its lifetime. And here is where the pulque comes in, or, rather,
comes out.
[Illustration: THE TLACHIQUERO.]
"The Indians watch the plants closely when the flower-stalk is expected
to appear, and just at the right time they cut out the centre of the
stem, leaving a hollow as large over as an ordinary washbowl but a good
deal deeper. The sap, which was intended to nourish the flower-stalk,
flows into this cavity, and flows so rapidly that it must be emptied
every few hours. The leaves on one side of the plant are cut away so
that the cavity can be reached, and then the _tlachiquero_, or
collector, makes his rounds.
[Illustration: EXTRACTING AGUAMIEL.]
"He is equipped with a gourd open at both ends; inserting the broad end
into the cavity, he sucks up the juice (_aguamiel_), and then deposits
it in a pig-skin hanging over his back, or in pig-skins or earthen jars
on the back of a donkey.
"The aguamiel is carried to the central station of the establishment,
where it is poured into shallow vats of pig or cow skin. There it
ferments and becomes pulque, a vile-smelling liquid which is said to
taste like stale buttermilk; it is almost always repulsive to the
stranger, and sometimes one who comes within smelling distance of pulque
for the first time is made ill by it. A good maguey yields from eight to
fifteen pints daily, and continues to do so for three or four months;
and a good estate of maguey plants is more certain in the revenue it
brings to the owner than any other enterprise. The plants thrive in the
poorest soil where hardly anything else can live.
"A scientific writer on this subject says: 'An analysis of aguamiel
gives glucose, sugar, and water as the principal ingredients; it froths
when shaken, gives an abundant precipitate with subacetate of lead, and
when filtered the resultant liquor is colorless. Pulque is the product
of the fermentation of aguamiel, is an alcoholic, mucilaginous liquid,
holding in suspension white corpuscles, which give it its color, and has
an odor and taste peculiar to itself. It is more or less sugary
according to its strength, and contains about six per cent. of alcohol.'
"Pulque is sent from the estates along the railway in barrels and
pig-skins, and the amount consumed in the capital is about 80,000
gallons daily. There is a pulque train daily to the city; we passed it
at a side-track, and easily detected its presence by the smell of
fermentation.
"The pulque shops are as discernible to the nose as to the eye; they are
numerous in all the cities and large towns, and very properly are under
the eyes of the police. There are 820 of these shops in the city of
Mexico. They pay a license fee to the Government as do beer and wine
shops in European countries, and the law requires that they shall close
at 6 P.M.; and, what strikes a New Yorker with astonishment, it is
enforced, too. The city derives a revenue of a thousand dollars a day
from the pulque brought here for sale, in addition to what it receives
for shop licenses; the railway probably gets a thousand dollars also for
the daily transportation, and altogether the national drink of Mexico
costs a great deal of money.
[Illustration: A GLASS OF AGUARDIENTE.]
"Liquors called _mescal_ and _tequila_ are distilled from pulque, and
contain a larger percentage of alcohol. Then there is a stronger liquor,
called _aguardiente_ (burning water), which is literally described by
its name. Some gentlemen who have tasted it say that it is like
swallowing a torch-like procession or a whole collection of
Fourth-of-July fireworks."
[Illustration: "NOT CAUGHT YET."]
From pulquerias to police-courts is a very natural step, and one which
is taken by a good many natives of Mexico. Frank and Fred took it,
though not after the Mexican fashion, as their movement was voluntary,
while that of the native is performed by invitation, or demand, of the
police. The better classes of the population know next to nothing about
the police-courts or where they are held, and it was only after a great
deal of inquiry that the youths learned where and when to go. The guide
who had shown them the sights of the city claimed to be unable to tell
them, and when they ascertained for themselves, he was somewhat
unwilling to accompany them. It is barely possible that he had been
there on his own account altogether too often to make a voluntary visit
agreeable.
They found the court in the municipal palace, at one side of the Plaza
Mayor. Ascending a staircase, they were shown into a waiting-room, and
beyond it there were several smaller rooms. Two or three gentlemen were
seated at a table in each of the rooms, and seemed to be busily engaged
in discussing something. Frank asked the guide what they were doing.
[Illustration: A MAGISTRATE.]
"One of them is a magistrate," was the reply; "and the others are the
lawyers, who are laying a case before him. One is the prosecutor, and
the other is for the defence."
"But where are the accused and the policemen?"
"They're down-stairs, or perhaps they haven't got to the palace yet.
They don't come into these rooms at all. The magistrate hears the case
through the lawyers, and doesn't have the prisoner brought before him,
as you do in your country." On further inquiry the youths learned that
the magistrates hear the cases in this way, and decide whether the
complaint shall be dismissed, the prisoner let off with a fine, or sent
to the Belem prison, at the edge of the city.
Some of the prisoners were, as the guide said, "down-stairs;" but the
greater number were in a building separate from the palace, and situated
on a narrow street close by. There is a court in the prison building, in
which the magistrates hear cases in the same way as at the municipal
palace, without seeing the prisoner; they hear the testimony for and
against him, and decide accordingly.
At the Belem prison they found another court, where cases were more
carefully considered; but they learned from a gentleman, with whom they
afterwards talked on the subject, that the Mexican courts are
overcrowded with work, and prisoners often have to wait weeks or
months, and even years, before their cases can be heard. A prisoner
against whom a serious accusation has been made can never learn when it
will be called to trial; his friends are not informed; and the only
thing they can do is to watch and wait day after day, or possibly pay
heavily to somebody for his influence with the authorities. Matters are
better now than previous to the Laws of the Reform, but they are still
far from what they should be.
"We judged," said Fred, "that the Belem prison was greatly overcrowded,
as the court-yard was full of people, and so were the corridors that
overlooked the yard. The prisoners sleep on mats on the floor of the
dormitories, which are about 170 feet long. One hundred men lie in a row
on the mats along the floor of the dormitory, so that there must be very
little room to walk around. The fare of the prisoners consists of twelve
ounces of bread daily, one pound of meat, and a bowl of soup. Three
times a week they have stewed beans in addition to the other food.
[Illustration: AN OLD OFFENDER.]
"A prisoner whose sentence exceeds one month is compelled to work, but
he is paid for his labor; one-half his wages go to his family if he has
any, and the rest is saved up by the prison authorities until the man is
discharged, when the money is given to him. This seems to me an
excellent system, and it should be adopted in our own country. In that
case an ex-convict would have something to live upon for a while,
instead of being, as is too often the case, driven into crime to save
himself from starvation.
"To show the character of Mexican offences, I will quote from the
records of the prison for one month. The whole number of prisoners was
1278, and they were charged with crimes as follows:
"Thefts, 198; fighting, 109; stabbing, serious, 518; stabbing, slight,
313; wounding with sticks or clubs, 140.
"Observe that two-thirds of the number were in prison for the use of the
knife, and you get an idea of the propensities of the lower classes of
the population.
"We have already mentioned the adroitness of Mexican thieves, and we
heard several stories while visiting the prison that confirm what we
have heard. There's a saying here that if you drop a coin it will be
caught before it reaches the ground. They told us a story about the
Chief Magistrate of Mexico City which we were assured was entirely true;
it sounds like a 'chestnut,' but is good enough to be repeated. Here it
is:
"The magistrate was one day on the street when he remarked to a friend
that he had left his watch hanging over the head of his bed at home. In
less than an hour a thief was at the door with a fat turkey; he said
that it was sent by the magistrate, who wished his wife to send him his
watch, which he had left at the head of his bed.
"She sent the watch, and when his Honor came home that night he learned
of the trick that had been played. He consoled himself with the
reflection that he had a fat turkey for the next Sunday's dinner, and
would not be obliged to buy anything for that important meal.
"But the next day an accomplice of the watch-stealer called and said the
magistrate had sent him to get the turkey, which they desired to produce
in court. The man who stole the watch had just been arrested, and the
turkey was needed to secure his conviction, as it was one of the
'properties' in the case. Of course it was promptly sent.
"So the good man lost both his watch and his turkey, and never heard of
either of them again."
There is a short road to justice called _ley de fuga_, which is
sometimes travelled in Mexico; it may be translated into "running the
gantlet." By Mexican law an officer has the right to shoot a prisoner
trying to escape. Sometimes, when bandits or murderers are captured,
they are allowed to try to escape, and in their effort to secure their
freedom they take the chances of being killed. Recently this disposition
was made of seven bandits who murdered a German named Müller in the
State of Durango, and then robbed his house, compelling Mrs. Müller to
show where the valuables were kept. They were captured while seated at
table in Müller's house after completing the robbery, a party of
soldiers happening to arrive there most opportunely. As their conviction
and execution were certain, they accepted the offer of the officers to
permit them to try the _ley de fuga_, but not one of them succeeded in
escaping.
[Illustration: SCENE OF THE CAPTURE.]