The President--Yturbide--Visit from the Archbishop--Señor Canedo
--General Almonte--Señor Cuevas--Situation of an Archbishop in Mexico--Of
Señor Posada--His Life--Mexican Charity--Wax Figures--Anecdote--Valuable
Present--Education--Comparison--Schools--Opportunities--Natural
Talent--Annual--Compliments to the Mexican Ladies by the Editor--Families
of the Old School--Morals--Indulgence--Manners--Love of Country--Colleges.
5th July.
Yesterday morning we had a visit from the president, with two of his
officers. He was riding one of the handsomest black horses I ever saw. On
going out we stopped to look at a wax figure of Yturbide on horseback,
which he considers a good resemblance, and which was sent me as a present
some time ago. He ought to be a good judge, as he was a most devoted friend
of the unfortunate Agustin I., who, whatever were his faults, seems to have
inspired his friends with the most devoted and enthusiastic attachment. In
the prime of life, brave and active, handsome and fond of show, he had all
the qualities which render a chief popular with the multitude; "but
popularity, when not based upon great benefits, is transient; it is founded
upon a principle of egotism, because a whole people cannot have personal
sympathies." Ambition led him to desert the royal cause which he had served
for nine years; and vanity blinded him to the dangers that surrounded him
in the midst of his triumphs, even when proclaimed emperor by the united
voice of the garrison and city of Mexico--when his horses were taken from
his carriage, and when, amidst the shouts of the multitude, his coach was
dragged in triumph to the palace. His great error, according to those who
talk of him impartially, was indecision in the most critical emergencies,
and his permitting himself to be governed by circumstances, instead of
directing these circumstances as they occurred.
I could not help thinking, as the general stood there looking at the waxen
image of his friend, what a stormy life he himself has passed; how little
real tranquillity he can ever have enjoyed, and wondering whether he will
be permitted to finish his presidential days in peace, which, according to
rumour, is doubtful.
8th.--I had the honour of a long visit this morning from his grace the
archbishop. He came about eleven o'clock, after mass, and remained till
dinner-time, sitting out all our Sunday visitors, who are generally
numerous, as it is the only day of rest for _employés_, and especially for
the cabinet. Amongst our visitors were Señor Canedo, who is extremely
agreeable in conversation, and as an orator famed for his sarcasm and
cutting wit. He has been particularly kind and friendly to us ever since
our arrival--General Almonte, Minister of War, a handsome man and pleasant,
and an officer of great bravery--very unpopular with one party and
especially disliked by the English, but also a great friend of ours. Señor
Cuevas, Minister of the Interior, married to a daughter of the Marquesa de
Vivanco, an amiable and excellent man, who seems generally liked, and is
also most friendly to us. All these gentlemen are praised or abused
according to the party of the person who speaks of them; but I not
interferring in Mexican politics, find them amongst the most pleasant of
our acquaintances.
However, were I to choose a situation here, it would undoubtedly be that of
Archbishop of Mexico, the most enviable in the world to those who would
enjoy a life of tranquillity, ease, and universal adoration. He is a pope
without the trouble, or a tenth part of the responsibility. He is venerated
more than the Holy Father is in enlightened Rome, and, like kings in the
good old times, can do no wrong. His salary amounts to about one hundred
thousand dollars, and a revenue might be made by the sweetmeats alone which
are sent him from all the nuns in the republic. His palace in town, his
well-cushioned carriage, well-conditioned horses, and sleek mules, seem the
very perfection of comfort. In fact, _comfort_, which is unknown amongst
the profane of Mexico, has taken refuge with the archbishop; and though
many drops of it are shed on the shaven heads of all bishops, curates,
confessors, and friars, still in his illustrious person it concentrates as
in a focus. He himself is a benevolent, good-hearted, good-natured, portly,
and jovial personage, with the most _laissez-aller_ air and expression
conceivable. He looks like one on whom the good things of this world have
fallen in a constant and benignant shower, which shower hath fallen on a
rich and fertile soil. He is generally to be seen leaning back in his
carriage, dressed in purple, with amethyst cross, and giving his
benediction to the people as he passes. He seems engaged in a pleasant
revery, and his countenance wears an air of the most placid and
_insouciant_ content. He enjoys a good dinner, good wine, and ladies'
society, but just sufficiently to make his leisure hours pass pleasantly,
without indigestion from the first, headaches from the second, or
heartaches from the third. So does his life seem to pass on like a deep
untroubled stream, on whose margin grow sweet flowers, on whose clear
waters the bending trees are reflected, but on whose placid face no lasting
impression is made.
I have no doubt that his charities are in proportion to his large fortune;
and when I say that I have no doubt of this, it is because I firmly believe
there exists no country in the world where charities, both public and
private, are practised on so noble a scale, especially by the women under
the direction of the priests. I am inclined to believe that, generally
speaking, charity is a distinguishing attribute of a Catholic country.
The archbishop is said to be a man of good information, and was at one time
a senator. In 1833, being comprehended in the law of banishment, caused by
the political disturbances which have never ceased to afflict this country
since the independence, he passed some time in the United States, chiefly
in New Orleans; but this, I believe, is the only cloud that has darkened
his horizon, or disturbed the tranquil current of his life. His
consecration, with its attendant fatigues, must have been to him a
wearisome overture to a pleasant drama, a hard stepping-stone to glory. As
to the rest, he is very unostentatious, and his conversation is far from
austere. On the contrary, he is one of the best-tempered and most cheerful
old men in society that it is possible to meet with....
I send you, by the Mexican commissioners, who are kind enough to take
charge of a box for me, the figure of a Mexican _tortillera_, by which you
may judge a little of the perfection in which the commonest _lépero_ here
works in wax. The incredible patience which enabled the ancient Mexicans to
work their statues in wood or stone with the rudest instruments, has
descended to their posterity, as well as their extraordinary and truly
Chinese talent for imitation. With a common knife and a piece of hard wood,
an uneducated man will produce a fine piece of sculpture. There is no
imagination. They do not leave the beaten track, but continue on the models
which the Spanish conquerors brought out with them, some of which, however,
were very beautiful.
In wax, especially, their figures have been brought to great perfection.
Everything that surrounds them they can imitate, and their wax portraits
are sometimes little gems of art; but in this last branch, which belongs to
a higher order of art, there are no good workmen at present.
_A propos_ to which, a poor artist brought some tolerable wax portraits
here for sale the other day, and, amongst others, that of a celebrated
general. C---n remarked that it was fairer than the original, as far as he
recollected. "Ah!" said the man, "but when his excellency _washes his
face_, nothing can be more exact." A valuable present was sent lately by a
gentleman here, to the Count de ----- in Spain; twelve cases, each case
containing twelve wax figures; each figure representing some Mexican trade,
or profession or employment. There were men drawing the pulque from the
maguey, Indian women selling vegetables, tortilleras, venders of ducks,
fruitmen, lard-sellers, the postman of Guachinango, loaded with parrots,
monkeys, etc.,--more of everything than of letters--the Poblana peasant,
the rancherita on horseback before her farm-servant, the gaily-dressed
ranchero, in short, a little history of Mexico in wax....
You ask me how Mexican women are educated. In answering you, I must put
aside a few brilliant exceptions, and speak _en masse_, the most difficult
thing in the world, for these exceptions are always rising up before me
like accusing angels, and I begin to think of individuals, when I should
keep to generalities. Generally speaking, then, the Mexican Señoras and
Señoritas write, read, and play a little, sew, and take care of their
houses and children. When I say they read, I mean they know how to read;
when I say they write, I do not mean that they can always spell; and when I
say they play, I do not assert that they have generally a knowledge of
music. If we compare their education with that of girls in England, or in
the United States, it is not a comparison, but a contrast. Compare it with
that of Spanish women, and we shall be less severe upon their _far niente_
descendants. In the first place, the climate inclines every one to
indolence, both physically and morally. One cannot pore over a book when
the blue sky is constantly smiling in at the open windows; then, out of
doors after ten o'clock, the sun gives us due warning of our tropical
latitude, and even though the breeze is so fresh and pleasant, one has no
inclination to walk or ride far. Whatever be the cause, I am convinced that
it is impossible to take the same exercise with the mind or with the body
in this country, as in Europe or in the northern states. Then as to
schools, there are none that can deserve the name, and no governesses.
Young girls can have no emulation, for they never meet. They have no public
diversion, and no private amusement. There are a few good foreign masters,
most of whom have come to Mexico for the purpose of making their fortune,
by teaching, or marriage, or both, and whose object, naturally, is to make
the most money in the shortest possible time, that they may return home and
enjoy it. The children generally appear to have an extraordinary
disposition for music and drawing, yet there are few girls who are
proficient in either.
When very young, they occasionally attend the schools, where boys and girls
learn to read in common, or any other accomplishment that the old women can
teach them; but at twelve they are already considered too old to attend
these promiscuous assemblages, and masters are got for drawing and music to
finish their education. I asked a lady the other day if her daughter went
to school. "Good heavens!" said she, quite shocked, "she is past eleven
years old!" It frequently happens that the least well-informed girls are
the children of the cleverest men, who, keeping to the customs of their
forefathers, are content if they confess regularly, attend church
constantly, and can embroider and sing a little. Where there are more
extended ideas, it is chiefly amongst families who have travelled in
Europe, and have seen the different education of women in foreign
countries. Of these the fathers occasionally devote a short portion of
their time to the instruction of their daughters, perhaps during their
leisure evening moments, but it may easily be supposed that this desultory
system has little real influence on the minds of the children. I do not
think there are above half-a-dozen married women, or as many girls above
fourteen, who, with the exception of the mass-book, read any one book
through in the whole course of the year. They thus greatly simplify the
system of education in the United States, where parties are frequently
divided between the advocates for solid learning and those for superficial
accomplishments; and according to whom it is difficult to amalgamate the
solid beef of science with the sweet sauce of _les beaux arts_.
But if a Mexican girl is ignorant, she rarely shows it. They have generally
the greatest possible tact; never by any chance wandering out of their
depth, or betraying by word or sign that they are not well informed of the
subject under discussion. Though seldom graceful, they are never awkward,
and always self-possessed. They have plenty of natural talent, and where it
has been thoroughly cultivated, no women can surpass them. Of what is
called literary society, there is of course none--
"No bustling Botherbys have they to show 'em
That charming passage in the last new poem."
There is a little annual lying beside me called "_Calendario de las
Señoritas Mejicanas_," of which the preface, by Galvan, the editor, is very
amusing.
"To none," he says, "better than to Mexican ladies, can I dedicate this
mark of attention--(_obsequio_). Their graceful attractions well deserve
any trouble that may have been taken to please them. Their bodies are
graceful as the palms of the desert; their hair black as ebony, or golden
as the rays of the sun, gracefully waves over their delicate shoulders;
their glances are like the peaceful light of the moon. The Mexican ladies
are not so white as the Europeans, but their whiteness is more agreeable to
our eyes. Their words are soft, leading our hearts by gentleness, in the
same manner as in their moments of just indignation they appal and confound
us. Who can resist the magic of their song, always sweet, always gentle,
and always natural? Let us leave to foreign ladies (_las ultramarinas_)
these affected and scientific manners of singing; here nature surpasses
art, as happens in everything, notwithstanding the cavillings of the
learned.
"And what shall I say of their souls? I shall say that in Europe the minds
are more cultivated, but in Mexico the hearts are more amiable. Here they
are not only sentimental, but tender; not only soft, but virtuous; the body
of a child is not more sensitive, (_no es mas sensible el cuerpo de un
niño_), nor a rose-bud softer. I have seen souls as beautiful as the
borders of the rainbow, and purer than the drops of dew. Their passions are
seldom tempestuous, and even then they are kindled and extinguished easily;
but generally they emit a peaceful light, like the morning star, Venus.
Modesty is painted in their eyes, and modesty is the greatest and most
irresistible fascination of their souls. In short, the Mexican ladies, by
their manifold virtues, are destined to serve as our support whilst we
travel through the sad desert of life.
"Well do these attractions merit that we should try to please them; and in
effect a new form, new lustre, and new graces have been given to the
'Almanac of the Mexican Ladies,' whom the editor submissively entreats to
receive with benevolence this small tribute due to their enchantments and
their virtues!"
There are in Mexico a few families of the old school, people of high rank,
but who mingle very little in society; who are little known to the
generality of foreigners, and who keep their daughters entirely at home,
that they may not be contaminated by bad example. These select few, rich
without ostentation, are certainly doing everything that is in their power
to remedy the evils occasioned by the want of proper schools, or of
competent instructresses for their daughters. Being nearly all allied by
birth, or connected by marriage, they form a sort of _clan_; and it is
sufficient to belong to one or other of these families, to be hospitably
received by all. They meet together frequently, without ceremony, and
whatever elements of good exist in Mexico, are to be found amongst them.
The fathers are generally men of talent and learning, and the mothers,
women of the highest respectability, to whose name no suspicion can be
attached.
But, indeed, it is long before a stranger even suspects the state of morals
in this country, for whatever be the private conduct of individuals, the
most perfect decorum prevails in outward behaviour. But indolence is the
mother of vice, and not only to little children might Doctor Watts have
asserted that
"Satan finds some mischief still,
For idle hands to do."
They are besides extremely _leal_ to each other, and with proper _esprit de
corps_, rarely gossip to strangers concerning the errors of their
neighbours' ways;--indeed, if such a thing is hinted at, deny all knowledge
of the fact. So long as outward decency is preserved, habit has rendered
them entirely indifferent as to the _liaisons_ subsisting amongst their
particular friends; and as long as a woman attends church regularly, is a
patroness of charitable institutions, and gives no scandal by her outward
behaviour, she may do pretty much as she pleases. As for flirtations in
public, they are unknown.
I must, however, confess that this indulgence on the part of women of
unimpeachable reputation is sometimes carried too far. We went lately to a
breakfast, at which was a young and beautiful countess, lately married, and
of very low birth. She looked very splendid, with all the ----- diamonds,
and a dress of rose-coloured satin. After breakfast we adjourned to another
room, where I admired the beauty of a little child who was playing about on
the floor, when this lady said, "Yes, she is very pretty--very like my
little girl, who is just the same age." I was rather surprised, but
concluded she had been a widow, and made the inquiry of an old French lady
who was sitting near me. "Oh, no!" said she--"she was never married before;
she alludes to the children she had before the count became acquainted with
her!" And yet the Señora de -----, the strictest woman in Mexico, was
loading her with attentions and caresses. I must say, however, that this
was a singular instance....
There are no women more affectionate in their manners than those of Mexico.
In fact, a foreigner, especially if he be an Englishman, and a shy man, and
accustomed to the coolness of his fair countrywomen, need only live a few
years here, and understand the language, and become accustomed to the
peculiar style of beauty, to find the Mexican Señoritas perfectly
irresistible.
And that this is so, may be judged of by the many instances of Englishmen
married to the women of this country, who _invariably_ make them excellent
wives. But when an Englishman marries here, he ought to settle here, for it
is very rare that a _Mexicaine_ can live out of her own country. They miss
the climate--they miss that warmth of manner, that universal cordiality by
which they are surrounded here. They miss the _laissez-aller_ and absence
of all etiquette in habits, toilet, etc. They find themselves surrounded by
women so differently educated, as to be doubly strangers to them, strangers
in feeling as well as in country. A very few instances there are of girls,
married very young, taken to Europe, and introduced into good society, who
have acquired European ways of thinking, and even prefer other countries to
their own; but this is so rare, as scarcely to form an exception. They are
true patriots, and the visible horizon bounds their wishes. In England
especially, they are completely out of their element. A language nearly
impossible for them to acquire, a religion which they consider heretical,
outward coldness covering inward warmth, a perpetual war between sun and
fog, etiquette carried to excess, an insupportable stiffness and order in
the article of the toilet; rebosos unknown, _cigaritos_ considered
barbarous.... They feel like exiles from paradise, and live but in hopes of
a speedy return.
As to the colleges for young men, although various projects of reform have
been made by enlightened men in regard to them, especially by Don Lucas
Alaman, and afterwards by Señor Gutierrez Estrada, and though to a certain
extent many of the plans were carried into effect, it is a universal source
of complaint among the most distinguished persons in Mexico, that in order
to give their sons a thorough education, it is necessary to send them
abroad.