Indians with a sprinkling of half-breeds, were not bad material. The
Indians in particular could be described as naturally among the best
soldiers in the world, for they were almost incredibly frugal, docile
and enduring, able to make astonishing marches, and quite ready--from
animal courage, racial apathy or indifference about their miserable
lives--to die on the field. But usually they were seized by force,
herded up in barracks as prisoners, liberally cudgelled but scantily
fed, and after a time driven off to the capital, chained, in a double
file, with distracted women beside them wailing to every saint. When
drilled enough to march fairly well through the street in column,
clothed in a serge uniform or a coarse linen suit, and equipped with
an old English musket and some bad powder, they were called soldiers,
and were exhorted to earn immortal glory; but naturally they got
away if they could, and frequently on a long expedition half a corps
deserted.[1.5]
Such men were by no means "thinking bayonets," and as a rule they
shot very badly, often firing with their guns at the hip in order to
avoid the heavy recoil. Not only did they lack the inspiration of good
officers, but in pressing times it was customary to empty the prisons,
and place their inmates in the ranks to inculcate vice. The government
furnished their wages, upon which as a rule they had to live from day
to day, even more irregularly than it paid the officers, and the latter
frequently embezzled the money; so that it became a common practice to
sell one's arms and accoutrements, if possible, for what they would
bring. Finally, the duty always enjoined upon the troops was "blind
obedience," not the use of what little intelligence they possessed;
and their bravery, like that of such officers as had any, was mainly
of the impulsive, passionate and therefore transient sort, whereas
Anglo-Saxon courage is cool, calculating, resolute and comparatively
inexhaustible.[1.5]
The special pride of all military men was the cavalry; but the horses
were small, and the riders badly trained and led. "The regular Mexican
cavalry is worth nothing," wrote the British minister early in 1846; and
as the mounts were quite commonly hired merely for the parades, just as
the rolls of the whole army were stuffed with fictitious names on which
the officers drew pay, it was never certain how much of the nominal
force could be set in motion. As for the artillery, Waddy Thompson
remarked that in a battle of 1841 between the foremost generals of the
country, not one ball in a thousand reached the enemy. On the other hand
there were excellent military bands, and one of them dispensed lively
selections every afternoon in front of the palace at Mexico.[1.5]
[THE CIVIL OFFICIALS]
Third in the official order of precedence and in the actual control of
affairs came the government officials, and these, like the army and
the clergy, formed a special group with a similar fuero, a similar
self-interest and a similar disregard for the general good. Once
appointed to an office one had a vested right therein, and could not
legally be removed without a prosecution. To eliminate a person in
that manner was extremely difficult; and when the government, in a few
notorious instances, tried ejectment, the newspapers of the opposition
hastened to raise an outcry against it for attacking property rights,
and the culprits were soon reinstated.[1.5]
Offering such permanence of tenure, a "genteel" status, idleness even
beyond the verge of ennui, a perfect exemption from the burden of
initiative, and occasional opportunities for illegitimate profits,
government offices appealed strongly to the Mexicans, and a greed for
them--dignified with the name of aspirantism when it aimed at the
higher positions--was a recognized malady of the nation. To get places,
all the tricks and schemes employed in the army and, if possible, still
more degrading intrigues were put in play; and offices had to be created
by the wholesale to satisfy an appetite that grew by what it fed upon.
The clerks became so numerous that work room--or rather desk room--could
not be provided for all of them. Only a favored portion had actual
employment and received full pay--if they received any--while the rest
were laid off on barely enough to support life. Some were competent
and willing to be faithful; but when they saw ignorance, laziness,
disloyalty and fraud given the precedence, they naturally asked, Why do
right? Idleness is the mother of vice; and so there was a very large
body of depraved and discontented fellows, wriggling incessantly for
preferment, fawning, backbiting, grabbing at any scheme that would
advance their interests, intensely jealous of one another, but ready to
make common cause against any purification of the civil service.[1.5]
How justice was administered in Mexico one is now able to surmise. The
laws, not codified for centuries, were a chaos. Owing to numberless
intricacies and inconsistencies, the simplest case could be made almost
eternal, especially as all proceedings were slow and tedious. A litigant
prepared to spend money seldom needed to lose a suit. Some cases lasted
three generations. The methods of administering justice, reported the
British representative in 1835, "afford every facility" for "artifices
and manoeuvres."[1.6]
Another difficulty was that the courts lacked prestige. During the
revolution the magistrates, practically all of them Gachupines,
committed so many acts of injustice in behalf of the government, that
people forgot the proper connection between crime and retribution.
Punishment seemed like a disease that any one might get. In 1833 the
minister of this department complained that for five years Congress
had almost ignored the administration of justice; and in 1845, the
head of the same department said that for a long time the government
had systematically reduced the dignity and influence of the judges and
magistrates. Their pay was not only diminished but often withheld; and
the official journal once remarked, that the authorities had more
important business in hand than paying legal functionaries.[1.6]
This was obviously wrong, but in a sense the judges merited such
treatment, for they seem to have lacked even the most necessary
qualifications. To make the situation still worse, the executive
authorities had a way of stepping in and perverting justice arbitrarily.
Even the Mexicans were accustomed to say, "A bad compromise is better
than a good case at law"; but it was naturally aliens who suffered
most. "The great and positive evil which His Majesty's subjects, in
common with other Foreigners, have to complain of in this country is the
corrupt and perverse administration of justice," reported the minister
of England in 1834.[1.6]
Criminal law was executed no better than civil. The police of the city
are a complete nullity, stated the American representative in 1845. A
fault, a vice and a crime were treated alike; and the prisons, always
crowded with wrongdoers of every class, became schools in depravity,
from which nearly all, however bad, escaped in the end to prey upon
society. Well-known robbers not only went about in safety, but were
treated with kindly attentions even by their late victims, for all
understood that if denounced and punished, they would sooner or later go
free, and have their revenge.[1.6]
[EDUCATION]
Adverting formally before Congress in 1841 to the "notoriously
defective" administration of justice, the Mexican President said, "the
root of the evil lies in the deplorable corruption which pervades
all classes of society and in the absence of any corrective arising
from public opinion." In large measure this condition of things was
chargeable to the low state of religion, but in part it could be
attributed to the want of education. Spain had required people to think
as little as possible, keep still and obey orders; and for such a rôle
enlightenment seemed unnecessary and even dangerous. To read and write a
little and keep accounts fairly well was about enough secular knowledge
for anybody, and the catechism of Father Ripalda, which enjoined the
duty of blind obedience to the King and the Pope, completed the circle
of useful erudition. In the small towns, as there were few elementary
schools, even these attainments could not easily be gained; and as for
the Indians they were merely taught--with a whip at the church door, if
necessary--to fear God, the priest and the magistrate. Religion gave no
help; and the ceremonies of worship benumbed the intellect as much as
they fascinated the senses.[1.6]
When independence arrived, however, there sprang up not a little
enthusiasm for the education of the people, and the states moved quite
generally in that direction. But there were scarcely any good teachers,
few schoolhouses and only the most inadequate books and appliances;
money could not be found; and the prelates, now chiefly absorbed in
their political avocations, not only failed to promote the cause, but
stood in the way of every step toward secular schools. A few of the
leaders--notably Santa Anna--professed great zeal, but this was all for
effect, and they took for very different uses whatever funds could be
extorted from the nation. In 1843 a general scheme of public instruction
was decreed, but no means were provided to carry it into effect. The
budget for 1846 assigned $29,613 to this field, of which $8000 was
intended for elementary schools, while for the army and navy it required
nearly twenty-two millions. In short, though of course a limited number
of boys and a few girls acquired the rudiments--and occasionally
more--in one way or another, no system of popular education existed.[1.6]
Higher instruction was in some respects more flourishing. Before the
revolution the School of Mines, occupying a noble and costly edifice,
gave distinction to the country; the university was respectable; an
Academy of Fine Arts did good work; and botany received much attention.
But at the university mediaeval Latin, scholastic and polemic theology,
Aristotle and arid comments on his writings were the staples, and even
these innocent subjects had to be investigated under the awful eye of
the Inquisition. Speculation on matters of no practical significance
formed the substance of the work, and the young men learned that worst
of lessons--to discourse volubly and plausibly on matters of which they
knew nothing. This course of discipline, emphasizing the natural bent
of the Creoles, turned out a set of conceited rhetoricians, ignorant
of history and the real world, but eager to distinguish themselves by
some brilliant experiment. When the yoke of Spain had been cast off,
all these institutions declined greatly, and the university became so
unimportant that in 1843 it was virtually destroyed; but the view that
speculation was better than inquiry, theory better than knowledge,
and talk better than anything--a view that suited Mexican lightness,
indolence and vanity so well, and had so long been taught by precept and
example--still throve despite a few objectors. Of foreign countries, in
particular, very little was commonly known. While elementary education,
then, was nothing, higher education was perhaps worse than nothing.[1.6]
Nor could the printed page do much to supply the lack. Only a few had
the taste for reading books or opportunities to gratify the taste, if
they possessed it. Great numbers of catchy pamphlets on the topics
of the day flew about the streets; newspapers had a great vogue; and
there were poor echoes of European speeches, articles and books; but
most of the printed material was shockingly partisan, irresponsible
and misleading. "Unfortunately for us," observed the minister of the
interior in 1838, "the abuse of the liberty of the press among us is so
great, general and constant, that it has only served our citizens as the
light of the meteor to one travelling in a dark night, misguiding him
and precipitating him into an abyss of evils."[1.6]
[THE INDUSTRIES]
Only some 300,000 out of 3,000,000 white and mixed people were actual
producers--three times as many being clericals, military men, civil
officials, lawyers, doctors and idlers, and the rest old men, women
and children. The most brilliant of their industries was mining, the
annual output of which was about $18,000,000 in 1790, fell during the
revolution to $5,000,000, and by 1845 rose again--despite the unwise
policy of the government--to about the earlier level. During the period
of depression most of the old proprietors and many of their properties
were ruined; but English companies took up the work, and although
for some time their liberal expenditures went largely to waste, they
gradually learned the business, and their example encouraged some
Germans to enter the field. How greatly the nation profited from the
mines was not entirely clear. About as much silver went abroad each
year as they produced, paying interest on loans that should not have
been made, and buying goods for which substitutes could usually have
been manufactured at home. But the government laid valuable taxes
on the extraction and export of the precious metals, and there was
also a profit in the compulsory minting of them--though, as all the
inventiveness of the nation expended itself in politics, the processes
at the mints were about as tedious and costly in 1845 as while Cortez
ruled the country.[1.7]
Little more can be said for the cultivation of the soil. When Mexico
separated from Spain, the vine and the olive, flax and certain other
plants formerly prohibited were acquired, and coffee soon became
important; but on the other hand agriculture had met with disaster
after disaster in the course of the revolution. "Up to the present,"
said a ministerial report in December, 1843, "agriculture among us has
not departed from the routine established at the time of the conquest."
A cart-wheel consisted still of boards nailed together crosswise, cut
into a circular shape and bored at the centre; a pointed stick, shod
sometimes with iron, was still the plough; a short pole with a spike
driven through one end served as the hoe; the corn, instead of going
to a mill, was ground on a smooth stone with a hand roller; and no
adequate means existed of transporting such products as were raised
to such markets as could be found. Most of the "roads" made so much
trouble even for donkeys and pack-mules that it was seriously proposed
to introduce camels; and the most important road of all, the National
Highway from the capital to Jalapa and Vera Cruz, was allowed to become
almost impassable in spots. Besides poor methods, bad roads, brigands,
revolutions and a great number of holidays, there were customhouses
everywhere and a system of almost numberless formalities, the accidental
neglect of which might involve, if nothing worse, the confiscation of
one's goods. In short, how could agriculture prosper, said a memorial on
the subject, when he that sowed was not permitted to gather, and he that
gathered could reach no market?[1.7]
[COMMERCE]
However, more could be produced than used. The prime requisite was
population. So much appeared to be clear; and for that reason, as well
as to obtain the profits of the industries and prevent money from
going abroad, great efforts were made by independent Mexico to develop
manufacturing, which had been prohibited--though not with entire
success--by Spain. The year 1830 was a time of golden hopes in this
regard. At the instance of Lucas Alamán a grand industrial scheme went
into effect, and a bank was founded to promote it by lending public
money to intending manufacturers. Cotton fields were to whiten the
plains; merino sheep and Kashmir goats to cover the hillsides; mulberry
trees to support colonies of silk-worms; imported bees to produce the
tons of wax needed for candles; and ubiquitous factories to work up the
raw materials. A few men honestly tried to establish plants, but the
industry chiefly promoted by the law and the bank was that of prying
funds from the national treasury; and when this income failed, as it
did in a few years, many half-built mills came to a stop, and much
half-installed machinery began to rust. Alamán himself, partner in a
cotton factory, became bankrupt in 1841, and the bubble soon burst.[1.7]
The manufacturers formed, however, a strong political clique, and in
their interest a system not only of protection, but of absolutely
prohibiting the importation of numerous articles, was adopted by law.
This had the effect of making the people pay dearly for many of their
purchases. The farmers, who wished raw materials kept out, had influence
too, and were always blocking the scheme of the manufacturers to let raw
materials in; and, as the cost of producing and transporting made native
goods dear, smuggled merchandise undersold Mexican articles even after
paying for the necessary bribery and other expenses. In a word, although
certain coarse and bulky things continued to be made in the country, the
endeavor to build up an industrial population, support agriculture, and
thus doubly strengthen the nation was very superficially planned and
very unsuccessfully carried out. Nearly all the better manufactures, a
large part of the food, most of the clothing, and substantially all the
luxuries came from abroad.[1.7]
The business of importing continued to be mainly in Spanish hands for
some years after Mexico became independent, but for reasons that will
appear in the next chapter the Spaniard had to retire about 1830. The
British then obtained the lion's share; and as they were Protestants
they could not, even when they so desired, identify themselves with the
nation, and take a responsible share in public affairs. Commerce was
not, in fact, a source of strength. A few raw products were exported,
but essentially commerce consisted, as was natural, in merely receiving
goods from foreigners and letting the foreigners have money in return.
Moreover the volume of commerce dwindled notably, like that of all other
business. As for retail trade, when the Spaniards had to retire, it fell
mainly into Mexican hands; but it was conducted in a small way, the
profits were narrow, and the failures were many.[1.7]
[LIFE IN THE COUNTRY]
Even more significant for us, however, than such details were the life
and character of the people, and it may be helpful to call back the year
1845 and visit Mexico for a couple of days. First we will stroll along
a country road in a fairly typical region. The general aspect is one of
semi-wildness, but soon the tops of well-bleached ruins amid the soft
green indicate decrepitude instead, suggesting as the national character
decay preceding maturity. A long mule team approaches in a waving line,
and on a finely equipped horse at the head of it we observe a swarthy
man in green broadcloth trousers open on the outside from the knee down,
with bright silver buttons in a double row from hip to ankle, and loose
linen drawers visible where the trousers open. A closely fitting jacket,
adorned with many such buttons and much braid, is turned back at the
chin enough to reveal an embroidered shirt; and the costume reaches a
climax in a huge sombrero with a wide, rounding brim and high sugar-loaf
crown, adorned with tassels and a wide band of silver braid. This
gentleman, the _arriero_, is the railroad king of Mexico, for he and
others of his class transport the freight and express. Trust him with
anything you please, and it will surely be delivered; but should he be
unlucky at cards and out of work, he might rob you the next day.[1.8]
A group of Indians meet us, little more human in appearance than the
donkeys they drive; and we observe how easily they carry loads on their
backs, and how quickly and lightly they march. Yonder we see their
huts--pigpens, Americans would suppose; and a little apart from these
we notice a stone or adobe house. Certainly there is nothing grand
about this dwelling, for it contains only a single room, and that half
full of implements, horse furniture, charcoal, provisions and what
not; but it affords a home for six or eight persons of the two sexes.
Presently the master, though not the owner, of the establishment rides
up, prodding his active but light and stubby horse with blunt steel
spurs almost as large as the palm of one's hand, to make a dash for our
benefit. Swinging his wife from the saddle-bow the _ranchero_ alights,
and we find him to be a short, wiry, muscular person, with a bronzed
and rather saturnine countenance but friendly and respectful manners.
He wears tough leggings, leather trousers, a small rectangular shawl
(_serape_) that falls over his back and breast, allowing his head to
protrude through a hole in the middle, and a wide sombrero, while at
the saddle-bow hang the inevitable lasso and a bag of corn and jerked
beef, one meal a day from which is all he requires. Apparently he does
not feel quite at home on the ground, and that is natural, for he
spends about half of his waking hours in the saddle. Herdsman, farmer
or brigand, according to circumstances, he is also cavalryman at need;
and a corps of such fellows, if properly trained and led, would make the
best light horse in the world, perhaps. His chief interests in life,
however, are gambling and cock-fighting, and he is quite capable of
losing all his worldly goods, his wife and even his pony at the national
game of monte, and then of lighting a cigarette and sauntering off
without a sign of regret.[1.8]
Now we approach what may be called a village, but one extremely
different from a village in the United States. The great things are a
handsome grove and in the midst of it one old church of gray stone, full
of saints and relics and ancient plate, with a ragged, stupid Indian
crouching on the floor. Near by are two or three ranchero cottages with
a group of Indian huts in the distance, and yonder stands a large,
rambling edifice of stone with a mighty door and heavily barred windows.
From the ends of the building run high walls inclosing several acres,
and within the protected space may be seen a number of substantial
dwellings and what appear to be storehouses and stables, while far
away over hill and plain spreads the _hacienda_, an estate as large
as a county. Finally, on a gentle slope not far distant we observe a
monastery with a rich garden behind it, and a fat, contented prior
riding sleepily up to its arched gateway through a dozen or two of
kneeling aborigines.[1.8]
Toward evening we reach the state capital, and as we cross a bridge
on the outskirts, we see a crowd of people bathing. Both sexes are
splashing and swimming, all as happy as ducks and all entirely nude.
Even the presence of strangers does not embarrass the young women,
some of whom are decidedly good-looking; and they even try to draw our
attention by extra displays of skill. Looking for an inn we discover
two lines of low, rickety buildings alternating with heaps of rubbish,
fodder and harness. After some efforts a waiter is found and we obtain a
room, with a mule already slumbering in one corner of it and all sorts
of household litter thrown about. A wretched cot with a rope bottom, a
dirty table and an abundance of saints portrayed in Mexican dress help
to make the place homelike. The waiter is amiable, and ejects the mule
with a great show of indignation; but when we ask for water and a towel
his good nature fails. "Oh, what a man," he cries, flinging up his
hands; "What a lunatic, Ave María Purísima; Ha! Ha! Ha! He wants water,
he wants a towel; what the devil--! Good-by." The dining-room is a hot,
steamy cell, fitted up with charcoal furnaces; and for viands we are
offered plenty of hard beef, _chile_ (pepper) and _tortillas_ (flapjacks
of a sort), besides a number of dishes that only a native could either
describe or eat. Chile and tortillas appear, however, to be the
essentials; and the latter, partly rolled up, serve also as spoons.[1.8]