Bull-fighting—Mexican etiquette—The police department and its
difficulties—Treatment of habitual criminals—The army.
There is one kind of bull-fighting that I have often attended and
thoroughly enjoyed. In the first act they bring out a young bull, or
steer, which is then roped and thrown, and a thick rope is put around
its body just behind its forelegs. A man mounts it while it is on the
ground (barebacked) and holds on to this rope. The bull is then allowed
to get up, and the idea is to see how long the rider can stick on. I
have seen many horses buck, but a fighting bull can give a horse points,
as he has some steps that are entirely his own, and few men stay with
him very long. When the rider is thrown, others rush in with _capas_
(red capes) and attract the bull away from his fallen foe before he can
do any damage. In the next act they set up a sort of a "giant’s stride"
right in front of the bull-chute. A bull is then turned in, and when he
charges the man makes a run, swings out, and over the bull. It is
certainly exciting and pretty risky work. One time I was there the bull
charged, and as the man started for him and sailed up into the air, the
bull stopped in astonishment right in the man’s descending course. There
was nothing for it, so the man stiffened himself, stuck out his feet,
and landed square on the side of the bull’s head, turning him head over
heels. They both got on their feet about the same time, and the bull
chased the man round the pole so rapidly that it was some time ere he
could make use of his rope to swing again.
Another form in which they do this act is using a pole and pole-vaulting
over the charging bull. In the next act they have an enormous Mexican,
all padded out like an American football player. The bull is turned in
(generally a young two-year-old), and he plays with it for a while with
the _capa_, till he gets his distance; then he suddenly lunges forward
and, with his chest against the bull’s horns, leans over and grabs the
animal round the neck. Then there is a tussle indeed, but the man seems
easily to hold his own, and finally, when he has tired the bull, he lies
down on his back, pulling the bull’s head down with him, and, taking off
his hat, waves it at the crowd. This also is not so easy as it sounds,
and is sometimes dangerous, for I once saw a young bull scratch with his
hind-legs like a cat, and he was not long in pulling the stuffing off
his opponent. He probably would have killed the man, but assistants are
always ready, and they dashed in and pulled the bull off by main
strength. In other cases, when the man is through his act he suddenly
releases the bull, springs to one side, and waves the _capa_ in the
bull’s face. The show ends with acrobatic and other performances, and is
well worth seeing. On one occasion they let any of the public who wished
to do so go in and play with the bull; when the bugle blew about one
hundred peons jumped into the ring with their red blankets, and the fun
was furious for a short time, as the bull would charge one and then
another, finally tossing two or three of them who could not get out of
his way, but without serious consequences. Most Mexicans of the lower
classes are would-be bull-fighters, and the great game amongst the
Mexican children is “bull-fighting”; one boy represents the bull and the
others the matadores, picadores, &c., and when the bull pokes one of the
others in the ribs he is supposed to be out. An American lady here had a
very cross Jersey bull in a corral. Some lads from sixteen to eighteen
years were baiting him, but, as they were not experts, he killed three
of them before they decided to leave him alone.
Mexicans in some ways are very polite and look upon Americans as boors;
and truly a great many of them are so, especially the tourists, whom I
have seen going into the churches here with their cameras, when mass was
being said, and other things equally outrageous. The Mexican takes off
his hat to his gentlemen friends as well as to the ladies; he shakes
hands with everybody (whether known to him or not) when entering or
leaving an office, and does not put on his hat till he leaves the
building; he will generally give you the inside of the side-walk if he
meets you on the street (always to a lady). I have seen two of them
arguing for quite a while on meeting as to who was to give the other the
inside. All this to his men acquaintances; on the other hand, he will
stare in the rudest way at any pretty woman he may meet in the street or
in a street-car, and I have often been tempted to punch their heads. He
will stand on the street-corner with a knot of friends taking up the
whole side-walk and making everybody who passes walk round them in the
street. Their ideas of politeness are so contradictory that I have never
been quite able to make them out. When they have a row it is considered
quite gentlemanly to beat your opponent over the head and shoulders with
your cane, but to strike him with your fist is a deadly insult. The
following are a few of the main rules of Mexican etiquette, for the
benefit of those who might visit this country: Ladies do not attend
funerals. Children kiss the hands of their parents. The hostess is
served first at a Mexican table. The bridegroom purchases his bride’s
trousseau. Women friends kiss on both cheeks when greeting or taking
leave. Gentlemen bow first when passing lady acquaintances in the
street. The sofa is the seat of honour, and a guest waits to be invited
to occupy it. Men and women in the same social circles call each other
by their first names. When a Mexican speaks to you of his home he refers
to it as “your house.” When you move into a new locality, it is your
duty to make the first neighbourhood calls. When friends pass each other
in the street without stopping they say _adios_ (good-bye). Young ladies
do not receive calls from young men, and are not escorted to
entertainments by them. Daily inquiry is made for a sick friend, and
cards are left, or the name written in a book, with the porter. Dinner
calls are not customary, but upon rising from the table the guest thanks
his host for the entertainment. Mexican gentlemen remove their hats as
scrupulously on entering a business office as in a private residence. If
in riding costume one must remove one’s spurs—this applies more
especially to government offices. Often on entering a house the owner
will ask you to keep on your hat (this, however, you are not supposed to
agree to), and this is meant to make you feel as much at home as if you
were the owner. After a dance a gentleman returns his partner to the
seat beside her parents or chaperon and at once leaves her side. Never
allow a caller to carry a package of any size from your house; always
send it to his home: Mexicans do not carry parcels. If you change your
residence you must notify your Mexican friends by card, otherwise they
will not feel at liberty to enter your new home. The fashionable call of
a few minutes is unknown. A lady who arrives at four o’clock will remain
until six or seven. The calls of intimate friends are half-day visits.
Gentlemen raise their hats to each other, or at least salute in passing,
and shake hands both at meeting and parting, though the interview may
have lasted only two minutes.
I have been in contact with the police department a good deal, owing to
our men getting into trouble, or to other people causing us trouble in
our work. Paving was such a new thing that the people would congregate
in crowds to see the work progress and how Gringoes did things. Thus
they would not only block up the side-walks but crowd into the street so
that we could hardly work. The first year, when I was rolling, I had to
ask for police protection to keep the people out of my way so that I
should not run over any one. (Our rollerman in Mexico City did run over
and kill a man who slipped and fell in front of the roller when trying
to get out of the way.) But as the police were as much interested as any
one else, and spent most of the time gaping themselves, they were not of
much use. There are said to be over 900 police (including detectives and
mounted men) in this city, and they are certainly to be found at every
street corner except in the “Colonias,” or foreign colonies. But they
are a bedraggled lot, undersized, with ill-fitting uniforms, armed with
clubs, and pistols of every size and calibre. The mounted men who, as a
rule, are a better built lot, have no club, but carry a sabre and a
rifle (of very antiquated pattern) as well as a pistol. Nobody pays much
attention to the foot police, but the mounted men make themselves
respected, as the following instance will show. On the 16th of September
1905 (the great national holiday) some of the mounted men were clearing
the streets by the simple expedient of backing their horses into the
crowds. The horse of one of these was crowding a big burly peon (farm
labourer) and occasionally stepping on his feet, till in desperation the
man put his hands under the horse’s flank and gave such a push that he
nearly sent horse and rider over. Immediately he did so he ran, and
directly the policeman recovered himself he pulled out his sabre and
went after him. As far as I could see them the policeman was belabouring
the poor fellow over the head and shoulders with his heavy sword, until
the man found an opening where he could duck into the crowd and was
safe.
Of the foot police in Mexico city, some time ago, it took nine to arrest
a drunken Irishman, and then they had to carry him bodily to jail. Last
year, here, I saw an American hobo who had just licked four of them, and
was feeling so proud that it finally took a whole squad to land him in
the commissaria. He reminded me of a farmer in Guelph, whose boast it
was that, whenever he got drunk, it took the whole police force of the
city to lock him up. There were only the chief and four constables in
Guelph at the time, and they certainly hated to see him get drunk.
The police here, however, are at a great disadvantage. For if they
should club a man who has any friends or influence they are sure to lose
their jobs, and are lucky if they don’t get locked up as well. And if
they should shoot under almost any circumstances, they are certain to
land in the penitentiary. I saw a prisoner once being escorted by three
guards armed with rifles and bayonets from the penitentiary to one of
the barracks (to become a soldier) when he suddenly made a dash, got
free, and ran up the street like a shot. The guards were hampered by
their weapons and could not catch him, yet not one of them offered to
shoot. The man finally ran into the arms of a policeman at a corner, who
happened to be awake. In the States, on the other hand, the police are
too free with their guns altogether, and will club a man on the
slightest pretext.
The custom in this country is to put habitual drunkards, criminals, or
loafers into the army for a term of years. So that nearly all the
infantry regiments are composed of at least one-third of this class, the
balance being volunteers. Within the last few months the Congress passed
a new law regarding the army, to the effect that the soldiers should be
drawn by lot, one man out of every hundred of the inhabitants. This law
went into effect, and the first drawing was to be made on the fifteenth
day of January 1912. From this date no more criminals are to be drafted
into the ranks. There is considerable opposition to this law in some
parts of the country, and I have not heard how the drawings came off.
The volunteers I mentioned above are intended to see that the criminal
element do not run away. The barracks are always surrounded by a high
wall like a prison, and have iron gates at which an officer and the
guard always stand. No one goes in or out without a permit. When the
wives of married soldiers bring their food (the Mexican soldier feeds
himself) all the baskets are searched by the officer for prohibited
articles. I have seen them at drill with a line of armed guards thrown
out around the drill grounds to watch over the rest. It can be imagined
what a round-shouldered, unkempt looking lot the majority of the troops
are. The cavalry are a good deal better as a whole, as they are mostly
volunteers. About five years ago, when there was some talk of war
between Mexico and Guatemala, the police rounded up all the saloons and
captured every one inside them to fill up the “Volunteer” regiments that
this state was raising as its quota. They got some of my men, and I had
to go up and identify them so as to get them out.