RAPACIOUS CARGADORES.--OLD BOOK-STORES IN THE PORTALES.--PUBLIC SCHOOLS
IN THE MEXICAN CAPITAL; THE PUPILS IN ATTENDANCE.--THEATRES AND
HOSPITALS.--A THEATRE SUPPORTING A HOSPITAL.--THE BROTHERS OF
CHARITY.--INSIDE THE THEATRES.--A PERFORMANCE OF OPERA.--A MINOR
THEATRE.--LISTENING TO A MEXICAN PERFORMANCE.--BULL-FIGHTING IN
MEXICO.--A DISGRACEFUL SPORT.--ORIGIN OF THE BULL-FIGHT.--MARIONETTE
THEATRES.--THE PROCESSIONS.--MEXICAN LOVE FOR
COCK-FIGHTING.--COMMINGLING OF RELIGIOUS CEREMONIALS AND
AMUSEMENTS.--THE POSADA AND THE PASTORELA; THEIR PECULIARITIES.--KILLING
JUDAS.
[Illustration: WANTS A SOUVENIR.]
The train by which our friends returned to the capital left Amecameca at
1.20 in the afternoon, and reached the San Lazero station at 4 o'clock.
A crowd of cargadores swooped down on the baggage, and for a time
threatened to disappear with it in as many directions as there were
single pieces, but by dint of watchfulness and energy it was rescued and
placed in charge of a runner from the hotel. The Morelos, or
Interoceanic Railway, the one by which the party had travelled, is
distinctively a Mexican line; it was built by Mexican capital, or
capital borrowed by Mexicans, and the management is Mexican throughout.
When finished it will be literally what its name implies, as it will
connect the Atlantic Ocean at Vera Cruz with the Pacific at Acapulco. At
the time our friends were in Mexico work was being pushed on the eastern
division of the line (between Vera Cruz and the capital), and its
managers were confident of completing it by the end of 1890 or 1891. At
last accounts the completion of the western division (from the capital
to Acapulco) was very much in the future.
It seemed to Frank and Fred that they had been away from the city for a
month or two, when in reality they had been gone less than a week. The
next morning they were out early to ascertain if any changes had taken
place during their absence--whether any new buildings had been erected
or old ones demolished, new streets opened, or new avenues laid out.
They strolled through the _portales_, and stopped at the little shops
established between the arches of the covered way that shelters the
sidewalks from sun and rain, to bargain for old books and odds and ends
of curiosities. Fred had received a letter from a friend at home asking
him to pick up certain old books if they were to be found, and he made
many inquiries for the volumes. One after another, he found them, and
the search roused in him a fever for book-buying which did not abate
until he had invested several dollars in antique specimens of the
printer's art.
"How does it happen that so many old books are sold at these stalls in
the portales?" he said to Doctor Bronson on his return to the hotel.
[Illustration: RUINS OF SAN LAZERO.]
"It comes from the confiscation of the Church property," was the reply.
"For three centuries the churches and monasteries had been gathering a
fine collection of books for their libraries, and the confiscation of
ecclesiastical buildings under the Laws of the Reform threw the most of
these libraries into the market. Some of them were bought for
speculation and others for private use; in either case they were pretty
sure to drift sooner or later into the hands of the dealers. Gentlemen
familiar with the subject say that Mexico is to-day the best place in
the world for a book-collector to find what he is looking for."
From the portales the youths extended their walk through several of the
principal streets, and reached the hotel just in time for breakfast. On
their way they passed a school just as the pupils were going in, and
this circumstance gave a hint on which they acted at once.
[Illustration: ON THE WAY TO CHURCH.]
They proceeded to collect information concerning the public schools, in
addition to what they had already learned. They found that there were in
the capital 101 free secular schools, with an aggregate attendance of
7400 pupils; then there were thirty-seven Protestant and twenty-four
Catholic schools, all free--the former with 1300 pupils, and the latter
with 4000. The Catholic schools are held in large buildings, as will be
readily seen from the number of pupils in the twenty-four schools;
while the Protestant establishments are on a smaller scale. There are
something more than 100 private schools for primary instruction, with an
average of thirty pupils to each school. All the wealthy families have
their children taught by private tutors or governesses, but the grade of
their education is not high. The whole number of educational
establishments in the city is a little short of 300, with an attendance
in the aggregate of about 16,000.
[Illustration: MONKS AT THEIR MUSICAL EXERCISE.]
Mention has already been made of the San Carlos Academy of Fine Arts,
the Conservatory of Music, the Military Academy, and the Medical
College. To these should be added the Law School and the preparatory
schools and colleges of Architecture, Theology, Commerce, and Astronomy.
Some of these have been founded by the Government in recent times, while
others are descended from those established by the Catholic Church in
its days of prosperity.
Of some twenty hospitals and asylums of different names and kinds, fully
two-thirds are the successors of benevolent institutions founded by the
Church. The oldest is the hospital of Jesus Nazareno, and was founded by
Cortez; he left a large endowment for it, and the hospital is still
supported by it in spite of many attempts by governments and individuals
to break his will. The last effort in this direction was in 1885, when
the will was sustained by the Mexican courts. The bad management of the
hospital in its early days led to the founding of the San Hipolito
hospital by Bernardo Alvarez in 1567. The pious people that joined him
became a regular monastic order under the name of Brothers of Charity.
The order was suppressed in 1820; the hospital fund passed into the
hands of the municipality, and afterwards went to the general
government. Since that time the city has managed the hospital, and
provided the necessary funds for it.
[Illustration: A BELLE OF THE OPERA.]
One of the theatres in the city (the Teatro Principal) owes its
beginning to the necessity for money to support the Hospital Real,
which was in the hands of the Brothers of Charity during the seventeenth
century. The first theatre was in the hospital building, and the players
were hired by the Brothers. Tradition says that the noise made by the
performers and audiences seriously disturbed the sick, while the
management of a theatre by a religious order caused a great scandal
among pious people. The Brothers argued that, no matter what the origin
of the money was, it was used for a good purpose, and they continued to
enjoy the revenues of the theatre until the hospital was discontinued.
The theatre, and with it part of the hospital, was burned one night in
1722, after the performance of "The Ruin and Burning of Jerusalem." The
common people regarded the conflagration as a sign of heavenly
disapproval, but the Brothers rebuilt immediately. A few years later
they rebuilt again; and in 1752 they laid the foundation of the present
theatre, and finished it in the following year. It has been changed so
much since that time that very little now remains of the original
edifice.
[Illustration: A STAGE BRIGAND.]
The theatre is one of the institutions of Mexico, and liberally
patronized. On this subject Frank wrote the following:
"The Teatro Principal is not what its name implies, as it is not the
principal theatre at all. It may have been so when it was the only one,
but it certainly has not been of much account in late years. The most
fashionable theatre is the Nacional. Italian and French opera are given
there, and the place is open for one thing or another pretty much the
whole year. It is the fashion to have the commencement exercises of the
military and other colleges in the Teatro Nacional, and since we came
here there has been a grand concert in the building.
"We went to the opera one night. The performance was fairly good, but
nothing remarkable, and we came away with the impression that the
Mexicans go there more to see and be seen than to listen to the
performance. The ladies were in full evening costume, and the men
seemed to be about equally divided between dress-coats and
double-breasted ones. There are boxes on two balconies and also around
part of the parquet. The prices for seats and boxes vary according to
the attraction, and the house is said to be generally well filled.
"Most of the men left their seats between the acts, some of them to
smoke cigarettes in the lobby, and others to call on their lady friends
in the boxes or send packages of _dulces_ (sweetmeats) to them. The
pretty women in the boxes seemed to enjoy being stared at, if we could
judge by the way they smiled when opera-glasses were aimed at them. Many
of the men paid no attention to the performance, but constantly eyed the
beauties, and eyed them with their lorgnettes instead of their natural
organs of sight. They came back just before the curtain rose on each
act, and then each man stood up and made a survey of the horizon of
boxes, reminding us of the quartermaster of a ship at sea looking for a
sail. They tell us that the Mexican belles feel slighted if they are not
thus stared at, and there is a keen rivalry among them as to who shall
be the recipient of the greatest amount of attention.
"We have been accustomed in other parts of the world," continued the
youth, "to hear the voice of the prompter at the opera, but we were not
prepared for it in an ordinary theatre where the performance was a play
in dialogue and not a musical one. We went one night to the Hidalgo
Theatre to see and hear a Mexican play. The prompter pronounced every
sentence before the actor did, and it was heard all through the house.
It completely spoiled the play for us, and we left before it was over.
What we liked a good deal better was the arrangement of the office,
where there were five or six ticket-sellers seated in a row behind a
grating, so that there was no delay in getting places.
"They showed us a plan of the theatre in which the seats were marked by
pegs in holes. We selected three places, paid our money, and then the
ticket-seller drew out the pegs and handed them to us. The pegs were
numbered to correspond with the places, and we handed them to the usher
as checks for our seats. We found that we could buy seats for a single
act or for two acts, or three, just as we liked, on the same plan as in
some of the cities of Europe.
"In addition to the theatre and opera, the Mexicans inherit the Spanish
love for the bull-fight. This form of sport has had its ups and downs in
the capital. It was abolished in the federal district for some time, but
was recently re-established or permitted, and now there are bull-rings
at the northern end of the Paseo and in San Cosme. There is always a
large attendance, but it is chiefly of the lower classes of the
population.
[Illustration: TIVOLI GARDEN, SAN COSME.]
"We have seen a bull-fight, but it was not a real one. It was given at a
marionette theatre, and was said to be an excellent representation of
the actual performance. The figures were about four inches high, and
operated by cords invisible to the audience. It was interesting and
funny, and we had a good laugh while looking at it. During Lent this
marionette theatre has exhibitions called _Los Processiones_, in which
long processions of various church dignitaries and characters are drawn
slowly along a stage or walk extending the whole length of the room. At
the time we saw the miniature bull-fight the walk had been removed, and
the stage was at the end of the hall. The audience was of the lower
class of natives, and we kept a good watch over our pockets.
"The real bull-fight was something we did not want to see, and we
refused several invitations to witness it. It is a brutal, degrading
sport, from our point of consideration; but probably the Spaniards and
Mexicans would not agree with us.
[Illustration: TEASING THE BULL.]
"Mr. Brocklehurst, the author of 'Mexico To-day,' says the bull-fight
here is almost as attractive as in Spain, and the sporting men of Mexico
have their preferences in regard to the _ganderias_, the farms on which
bulls are raised, just as the same class in England have their favorite
stables for horses. The bulls are of proper age for fighting at from
three to five years; they are reared as carefully as race-horses in
other countries, and brought to the plaza during the night before the
day on which they are to do battle.
"On their arrival they are shut in a dark pen, and when wanted for the
fight they are driven from this pen, one by one, to the _toril_, which
opens into the arena. The ring is a great amphitheatre, without a roof,
and the seats _al sol_ (on the sunny side) are only half the price of
those _al sombre_ (on the shady side). To the discredit of the people be
it said, the seats are generally well filled to witness this cruel
sport, and the great mass of the people seem to be more interested in it
than in the choice of a President or the opening of a new railway.
"The performance begins with a procession of the fighters, and then the
master of ceremonies asks the judge for the key of the toril, which is
thrown to him. He then goes to the toril and lets in the bull, the band
and all other persons not concerned in the fight having judiciously
retired from the ring.
[Illustration: PICADORES.]
"The _picadores_, or mounted men, are on miserable horses, whose eyes
are bandaged so that they cannot see the bull; as the animal enters he
looks around in astonishment at the horses and their riders, at the
_capeadores_, with their scarlet cloaks to attract the bull's attention,
and at the _banderilleros_, whose duty it is to stick darts in the
animal to enrage him. Sometimes the darts have fire-crackers attached in
addition to the long ribbons with which they are always ornamented.
[Illustration: THE MATADOR'S TRIUMPH.]
"The most cruel part of the performance, and one which generally sickens
the foreign spectator, is when the poor, broken-down, and blindfolded
horses are gored by the maddened animal which has been brought into the
ring only to be killed. The most interesting part of it is when, after
killing several horses, and being worried for half an hour by his
tormentors, the bull is turned over to the _matador_, who, after several
feints and skilfully avoiding the charges of the animal, plants his
sword up to the hilt between the bull's shoulders. The matador is a hero
who is worshipped by the populace as much as is the champion base-ball
player in the United States, or the jockey in England who wins the
Derby. Once in a while a matador is killed by his four-footed adversary;
an occurrence of this kind adds interest to the sport, though it may
plunge the whole country into grief.
[Illustration: THE FINAL BLOW.]
"Next to the matador, the men who run the greatest risk are the
picadores, the fellows who fight on horseback. They are protected by
leather armor, which impedes their movements, and when a horse is thrown
down by the bull they often fall with him, and are unable to extricate
themselves. When this occurs, the capeadores, who are also called
_chulos_, endeavor to draw away the bull's attention by waving their
cloaks in front of him; the ruse generally succeeds, and the unfortunate
picador is assisted out of his dangerous position as quickly as
possible. Sometimes the bull will not be diverted from his attack on
horse and rider, and it is in such cases that the picador may be gored,
perhaps to death. If he is hurt but not killed, the spectators show
their appreciation of his bravery by tossing silver dollars into the
ring; and a wounded picador has been known to gather up a hatful of
these welcome coins before retiring.
[Illustration: SCENES AT A BULL-FIGHT.]
"A priest is always waiting in a room near the toril, in order to offer
the last sacrament to any luckless combatant who may be fatally injured.
When a bull is killed his body is dragged off by a team of richly
ornamented mules; these mules form part of the procession that opens the
performance, but they never seem to manifest any special pride in their
work.
"We are told that the spectators are often wild with excitement over the
incidents of a bull-fight; they smash the furniture and railings, and
have been known to wreck a considerable portion of the wood-work of the
ring in their fury. Sombreros by the dozen, of all kinds and values, are
thrown into the arena, and a gentleman tells us he has seen hundreds of
spectators leaving the place bareheaded at the end of an exciting day.
From four to six bulls are killed at a performance--four being the usual
number--and ten or twelve horses.
[Illustration: A BULL-RING OF THE HIGHEST CLASS.]
"That will do for the national sport of Mexico," concluded the youth;
"it is only given because a description of the country would be
incomplete without it. Doctor Bronson says that bull-fighting was
originally a compromise with the Roman custom of gladiatorial combats,
and furnished a substitute that met the desire of the populace to
witness bloodshed. It was brought to Mexico by the Spaniards, partly as
a reminiscence of their home country, and partly to take the place of
the human sacrifices of the Aztecs. It has become a part of the life of
the people, and the government that endeavors to suppress it would run
the risk of being overturned."
[Illustration: A SCHOOL ON THE OLD MODEL.]
From theatres and bull-fights the conversation naturally turned to the
other amusements of the Mexicans. That the people are fond of gambling
the youths had already learned, also that one of their sports was
cock-fighting. Game-cocks are carefully trained for the work they are
expected to perform, and fights between them are of frequent occurrence.
A traveller in Mexico tells how he once visited a school where each of
the pupils had a game-cock, which he carried constantly with him, and
during school hours the birds were supposed to be tied up so that they
could not get at each other. The noonday recess was generally devoted to
a battle between two of the feathered champions, and sometimes the
teacher, who possessed several game-birds, joined in the sport with his
pupils.
Cockpits are more numerous than bull-rings, for the reason that their
construction is inexpensive. Only a few posts and a thatched roof are
necessary. The birds are placed in the centre of a ring, and the excited
spectators crowd as closely as possible to the ropes in order to witness
the sport. Pretty nearly all the money in their possession changes hands
during or at the end of the performance, and sometimes the peons are so
warmed up to the business that they wager their hats, coats, and nearly
all their garments, together with everything else they possess.
The religious observances of the country are closely mixed up with
amusements, as the festivities established by the Church are almost
invariably combined with entertainments in greater or less variety. In
this respect they have their counterpart in the Christmas festivities of
most Protestant countries.
"They can't have Christmas here as we do," Frank remarked to Fred, while
they were discussing the subject.
"Why so?" Fred asked.
"Because," was the reply, "they have no chimneys, and consequently no
way for Santa Claus to get into the house after the time-honored
fashion."
"That's so," answered Fred; "but you may be sure they have their fun,
and quite as much as we do. We'll look into that subject, and find out
about it."
Fred investigated, and here is the result of his inquiries:
"The Mexicans have a longer Christmas than we do, as it begins on the
17th of December, and lasts until New Year's Day. During their Christmas
they have an amusement called the _posada_, or inn; it is based upon
occurrences of the time when Cæsar Augustus ordered the whole world to
be taxed, and Joseph and Mary came to Judea from Galilee to be enrolled.
Bethlehem was so filled with strangers that they wandered from inn to
inn for nine days without finding accommodations, and then sought
shelter in the stable in which Christ was born.
[Illustration: THE FIGURE OF JOSEPH (PROCESSION OF THE POSADA).]
"In commemoration of the nine days of wandering, Mexican posadas last
nine days. In many houses processions are formed, and the people of a
family join in it, carrying tapers and singing litanies; figures of
Joseph and Mary are carried in front of each procession, and every door
that is passed on the round is knocked upon in the effort to obtain
shelter. The sound of the litanies is to be heard all over the city;
court-yards and windows are hung with numerous lanterns, and all the
public places are richly ornamented, and abound with pleasure-seekers.
"The principal sport of the posada is breaking the _pinate_, an earthen
jar filled with dulces. The jar is richly decorated on the outside, and
ornamented with ribbons of paper. The pinates are made in the shape of
all known and many unknown birds and beasts, and also in the shape of
dolls, some of them being of great size. Peddlers go about the streets
with these things suspended from a pole, and the number sold at
Christmas-time is very large.
"When the ceremonial procession is over the party goes to the patio, or
to a large room of the house, and there the fun begins. A pinate is
suspended from the ceiling, or from a cord stretched across the patio,
and then one of the party, blindfolded and armed with a stick, sets
about breaking the pinate; sometimes half a dozen are blindfolded at
once, and then the fun is lively. When the pinate is broken the dulces
fall to the floor, and everybody scrambles for them. Altogether, the
game reminds us of blind-man's-buff and some of our other home sports.
"A good many people omit the religious part of the posada and come at
once to the jug-breaking. In wealthy families posadas often cost many
hundreds or even thousands of dollars; the ladies receive handsome and
valuable presents, and the broken pinates have been known to yield
showers of rings and gold coins, instead of the regulation sweetmeats.
The affair concludes with a grand dance, and the participants do not
reach home until a very late, or early, hour.
"All through the Christmas and New-year festivities there are grand
balls, dinners, theatre parties, and the like; everybody indulges in
festivity according to his means, and not infrequently beyond them; and
when the affair is over, and the realities of life come again, the
tradesmen who seek to collect their bills make the time doubly serious.
In some parts of the country the _pastorela_, or pastoral, takes the
place of the posada; the amusements are pretty much the same, the
principal difference being that another incident of the nativity is
taken as the ground-work of the ceremonial.
[Illustration: THE RAILWAY JUDAS.]
"Another popular festival is on the last day of Holy Week, which is
devoted to the death of Judas. Effigies of Judas abound everywhere; they
are hung on trees and from windows, on lamp-posts, balconies--in fact,
everywhere they can be made to hang. You see them on the front of every
locomotive on that day, and on many another vehicle; in fact, it would
be easier to say where Judas is not than where he is. The figures are of
all dimensions, but usually of life size. They are filled with fireworks
of various sorts, so that they explode when a match is touched to them.
If from any cause they do not explode, they are torn in pieces when they
fall to the ground. In thus destroying them the people indicate their
detestation of the betrayer of his Master. Not infrequently the figures
that are hung from private houses have thirty silver dollars pasted upon
them, as a reminder of the thirty pieces of silver which were the
traitor's price. Of course there is a lively scramble for these coins
when the Judas falls to the ground."