Mexican Servants--Anecdotes--Remedies--An unsafe Porter--Galopinas--The
Reboso--The Sarape--Women Cooks--Foreign Servants--Characteristics of
Mexican Servants--Servants' Wages--Nun of the Santa Teresa--Motives for
taking the Veil.
June 3rd.
You ask me to tell you how I find the Mexican servants. Hitherto I had
avoided the ungrateful theme, from very weariness of it. The badness of the
servants, is an unfailing source of complaint even amongst Mexicans; much
more so amongst foreigners, especially on their first arrival. We hear of
their addiction to stealing, their laziness, drunkenness, dirtiness, with a
host of other vices. That these complaints are frequently just, there can
be no doubt, but the evil might be remedied to a great extent. In the first
place servants are constantly taken without being required to bring a
recommendation from their last place; and in the next, recommendations are
constantly given, whether from indolence or mistaken kindness, to servants
who do not deserve them. A servant who has lived in a dozen different
houses, staying about a month in each, is not thought the worse of on that
account. As the love of finery is inherent in them all, even more so than
in other daughters of Eve, a girl will go to service merely to earn
sufficient to buy herself an embroidered chemise; and if, in addition to
this, she can pick up a pair of small old satin shoes, she will tell you
she is tired of working, and going home to rest, "_para descansar_." So
little is necessary, when one can contentedly live on tortillas and chile,
sleep on a mat, and dress in rags!
A decent old woman, who came to the house to wash shortly after our arrival
in this country, and left us at the end of the month, "_para descansar_."
Soon after, she used to come with her six children, they and herself all in
rags, and beg the gardener to give her any _odds and ends_ of vegetables he
could spare. My maid asked her, why, being so poor, she had left a good
place, where she got twelve dollars a month. "Jesús!" said she, "if you
only knew the pleasure of doing nothing."
I wished to bring up a little girl as a servant, having her taught to read,
sew, etc. A child of twelve years old, one of a large family, who subsisted
upon charity, was procured for me; and I promised her mother that she
should be taught to read, taken regularly to church, and instructed in all
kinds of work. She was rather pretty, and very intelligent, though
extremely indolent; and though she had no stockings, would consent to wear
nothing but dirty white satin shoes, too short for her foot. Once a week,
her mother, a tall, slatternly woman, with long tangled hair, and a cigar
in her mouth, used to come to visit her, accompanied by a friend, a
friend's friend, and a train of girls, her daughters. The housekeeper would
give them some dinner, after which they would all light their cigars, and,
together with the little Joséfita, sit, and howl, and bemoan themselves,
crying and lamenting her sad fate in being obliged to go out to service.
After these visits, Joséfita was fit for nothing. If desired to sew, she
would sit looking so miserable, and doing so little, that it seemed better
to allow her to leave her work alone. Then, tolerably contented, she would
sit on a mat, doing nothing, her hands folded, and her eyes fixed on
vacancy.
According to promise, I took her several times to see her mother, but one
day being occupied, I sent her alone in the carriage, with charge to the
servants to bring her safely back. In the evening she returned, accompanied
by the whole family, all crying and howling; "For the love of the Most Holy
Virgin, Señora mia! Por la purissima Concepción!" etc., etc., etc. I asked
what had happened, and after much difficulty discovered that their horror
was occasioned by my having sent her alone in the carriage. It happened
that the Countess S---- was in the drawing room, and to her I related the
cause of the uproar. To my astonishment, she assured me that the woman was
in this instance right, and that it was very dangerous to send a girl of
twelve years of age from one street to another, in the power of the
coachman and footman. Finding from such good authority that this was the
case, I begged the woman to be contented with seeing her daughter once a
month, when, if she could not come herself, I would send her under proper
protection. She agreed; but one day having given Joséfita permission to
spend the night at her mother's, I received next morning a very dirty
note, nearly illegible, which, after calling down the protection of the
Virgin upon me, concluded-"but with much sorrow I must take my child from
the most illustrious protection of your excellency, for she needs to rest
her-self, (es preciso que descanse,) and is tired for the present of
working." The woman then returned to beg, which she considered infinitely
less degrading.
Against this nearly universal indolence and indifference to earning money,
the heads of families have to contend; as also against thieving and
dirtiness; yet I think the remedy much easier than it appears. If on the
one hand, no one were to receive a servant into their house, without
respectable references, especially from their last place, and if their
having remained one year in the same house were considered necessary to
their being received into another, unless from some peculiar circumstances;
and if on the other hand it were considered as unjust and dangerous, as it
really is, to recommend a servant who has been guilty of stealing, as being
"_muy honrado_," very honest, some improvement might soon take place.
A porter was recommended to us as "muy honrado;" not from his last place,
but from one before. He was a well-dressed, sad-looking individual; and at
the same time we took his wife as washerwoman, and his brother as valet to
our attache, thus having the whole family under our roof, wisely taking it
for granted that he being recommended as particularly honest, his relations
were "all honourable men." An English lady happened to call on me, and a
short time after I went to return her visit; when she informed me that the
person who had opened the door for her was a notorious thief; whom the
police had long been in search of; that she had feared sending a servant to
warn us of our danger, lest guessing the purport of her message, he might
rob the house before leaving it. We said nothing to the man that evening,
but he looked paler and more miserable than usual, probably foreseeing what
would be the result of Mrs. -----'s visit. The next morning C---n sent for
him and dismissed him, giving him a month's wages, that he might not be
tempted to steal from immediate want. His face grew perfectly livid, but he
made no remark. In half an hour he returned and begged to speak with C---n.
He confessed that the crime of which he concluded he was accused, he had in
fact committed; that he had been tempted to a gambling house, while he had
in his pocket a large sum of money belonging to his master. After losing
his own money, he tried his fortune with what was not his own; lost the
whole sum, then pawned a valuable shawl worth several hundred dollars, with
which also he had been entrusted; and having lost everything, in despair
made his escape from Mexico. He remained in concealment for some time, till
hearing that we wanted a porter, he ventured to present himself to the
housekeeper with his former certificate. He declared himself thoroughly
repentant--that this was his first, and would be his last crime--but who
can trust the good resolutions of a gambler! We were obliged to send him
away, especially as the other servants already had some suspicions
concerning him; and everything stolen in the house would in future have
been attributed to him. The gentleman who had recommended him, afterwards
confessed that he always had strong suspicions of this man's honesty, and
knew him to be so determined a gambler, that he had pawned all he
possessed, even his wife's clothes, to obtain money for that purpose. Now
as a porter in Mexico has pretty much at his disposal the property and even
the lives of the whole family, it is certainly most blameable to recommend
to that situation a man whose honesty is more than doubtful. We afterwards
procured two soldiers from the _Invalidos_, old Spaniards, to act in that
capacity, who had no other foiblesse but that of being constantly drunk. We
at length found two others, who only got tipsy alternately, so that we
considered ourselves very well off.
We had a long series of _galopinas_, kitchen-maids, and the only one who
brought a first-rate character with her, robbed the housekeeper. The money,
however, was recovered, and was found to have been placed by the girl in
the hands of a rich and apparently respectable coachmaker. He refunded it
to the rightful owner, and the galopina was punished by a month's
imprisonment, which he should have shared with her. One of the most
disagreeable customs of the women servants, is that of wearing their long
hair hanging down at its full length, matted, uncombed, and always in the
way. I cannot imagine how the Mexican ladies, who complain of this, permit
it. Flowing hair sounds very picturesque, but when it is very dirty, and
suspended over the soup, it is not a pretty picture.
The reboso, in itself graceful and convenient, has the disadvantage of
being the greatest cloak for all untidiness, uncombed hair and raggedness,
that ever was invented. Even in the better classes, it occasions much
indolence in the toilet, but in the common people, its effect is
overwhelming. When the reboso drops off, or is displaced by chance, we see
what they would be without it! As for the sarape, it is both convenient and
graceful, especially on horseback; but though Indian in its origin, the
custom of covering the lower part of the face with it, is taken from the
Spanish cloak; and the opportunity which both sarape and reboso afford for
concealing large knives about the person, as also for enveloping both face
and figure so as to be scarcely recognizable, is no doubt the cause of the
many murders which take place amongst the lower orders, in moments of
excitement and drunkenness. If they had not these knives at hand, their
rage would probably cool, or a fair fight would finish the matter, and if
they could not wear these knives concealed, I presume they would be
prohibited from carrying them.
As for taking a woman-cook in Mexico, one must have strong nerves and a
good appetite to eat what she dresses, however palatable, after having seen
her. One look at her flowing locks, one glance at her reboso, _et c'est
fini_. And yet the Mexican servants have their good qualities, and are a
thousand times preferable to the foreign servants one finds in Mexico;
especially the French. Bringing them with you is a dangerous experiment. In
ten days they begin to fancy themselves ladies and gentlemen--the men have
_Don_ tacked to their name; and they either marry and set up shops, or
become unbearably insolent. A tolerable French cook may occasionally be
had, but you must pay his services their weight in gold, and wink at his
extortions and robberies. There are one or two French _restaurans_, who
will send you in a very good dinner at an extravagant price: and it is
common in foreign houses, especially amongst the English, to adopt this
plan whenever they give a large entertainment.
The Mexican servants have some never-failing good qualities. They are the
perfection of civility-humble, obliging, excessively good-tempered, and
very easily attached to those with whom they live; and if that _rara avis_,
a good Mexican housekeeper, can be found, and that such may be met with I
from experience can testify, then the troubles of the menage rest upon her
shoulders, and accustomed as she is to the amiable weaknesses of her
_compatriotes_, she is neither surprised nor disturbed by them.
As for wages, a good porter has from fifteen to twenty dollars per month; a
coachman from twenty to thirty--many houses keep two or even three
coachmen; one who drives from the box, one who rides postilion, and a third
for emergencies. Our friend---, who has many horses, mules, and carriages,
has four; and pays forty dollars per month to his head coachman; the others
in proportion. A French cook has about thirty dollars--a housekeeper from
twelve to fifteen; a major-domo about twenty or more; a footman six or
seven; galopine and chambermaid five or six; a gardener from twelve to
fifteen. Sewing-girls have about three reals per diem. Porter, coachmen,
and gardener, have their wives and families in the house, which would be an
annoyance, were the houses not so large. The men-servants generally are
much cleaner and better dressed than the women.
One circumstance is remarkable; that, dirty as the women-servants are, and
notwithstanding the enormous size of Mexican houses, and Mexican families,
the houses themselves are, generally speaking, the perfection of
cleanliness. This must be due either to a good housekeeper, which is rarely
to be found, or to the care taken by the mistress of the house herself.
That private houses should have this advantage over churches and theatres,
only proves that ladies know how to manage these matters better than
gentlemen, so that one is inclined to wish _a la Martineau_, that the
Mexican police were entirely composed of old women.
12th.--I have formed an acquaintance with a very amiable and agreeable nun
in the convent of Santa Teresa, one of the strictest orders. I have only
seen her twice, through a grating. She is a handsome woman of good family,
and it is said of a remarkably joyous disposition; fond of music and
dancing, and gay society, yet at the age of eighteen, contrary to the
wishes of all her family, she took the veil, and declares she has never
repented of it. Although I cannot see her, I can hear her voice, and talk
to her through a turning wooden screen, which has a very mysterious effect.
She gives me an account of her occupations and of the little events that
take place in her small world within; whilst I bring her news from the
world without. The common people have the greatest veneration for the holy
sisterhood, and I generally find there a number of women with baskets, and
men carrying parcels or letters; some asking their advice or assistance,
others executing their commissions, bringing them vegetables or bread, and
listening to the sound of their voice with the most eager attention. My
friend, the Madre---, has promised to dress a number of wax figures for me,
in the exact costume of all the different nuns in Mexico, beginning with
that of her own convent.
I have now seen three nuns take the veil; and, next to a death, consider it
the saddest event that can occur in this nether sphere; yet the frequency
of these human sacrifices here is not so strange as might at first appear.
A young girl, who knows nothing of the world, who, as it too frequently
happens, has at home neither amusement nor instruction, and no society
abroad, who from childhood is under the dominion of her confessor, and who
firmly believes that by entering a convent she becomes sure of heaven; who
moreover finds there a number of companions of her own age, and of older
women who load her with praises and caresses--it is not, after all,
astonishing that she should consent to insure her salvation on such easy
terms.
Add to this the splendour of the ceremony, of which she is the sole object;
the cynosure of all approving eyes. A girl of sixteen finds it hard to
resist all this. I am told that more girls are smitten by the ceremony,
than by anything else, and am inclined to believe it, from the remarks I
have heard made on these occasions by young girls in my vicinity. What does
she lose? A husband and children? Probably she has seen no one who has
touched her heart. Most probably she has hitherto seen no men, or at least
conversed with none but her brothers, her uncles, or her confessor. She has
perhaps also felt the troubles of a Mexican menage. The society of men! She
will still see her confessor, and she will have occasional visits from
reverend padres and right reverend bishops.
Some of these convents are not entirely free from scandal. Amongst the
monks, there are many who are openly a disgrace to their calling, though I
firmly believe that by far the greater number lead a life of privation and
virtue. Their conduct can, to a certain extent, be judged of by the world;
but the pale nuns, devout and pure, immured in the cloister for life,
kneeling before the shrine, or chanting hymns in the silence of the night,
a veil both truly and allegorically must shade their virtues or their
failings. The nuns of the Santa Teresa and of other strict orders, who live
sparingly, profess the most severe rules, and have no servants or boarders,
enjoy a universal reputation for virtue and sanctity. They consider the
other convents worldly, and their motto is, "All or nothing; the world or
the cloister." Each abbess adds a stricter rule, a severer penance than her
predecessor, and in this they glory. My friend the Madre---frequently says
--"Were I to be born again, I should choose, above every lot in life, to be
a nun of the Santa Teresa, but of no other convent."...
It is strange how, all the world over, mankind seems to expect from those
who assume religion as a profession a degree of superhuman perfection.
Their failings are insisted upon. Every eye is upon them to mark whatsoever
may be amiss in their conduct. Their virtues, their learning, their holy
lives--nothing will avail them, if one blot can be discovered in their
character. There must be no moral blemish in the priesthood. In the
Catholic religion, where more is professed, still more is demanded, and the
errors of one padre or one ecclesiastic seem to throw a shade over the
whole community to which they belong.