# Mexico of the Mexicans/Chapter III

CHAPTER III
SOCIETY HIGH AND LOW
As has been said, Mexican society of the highest class is chiefly remarkable for its exclusiveness, especially towards foreigners. Even when well accredited, the stranger is seldom received with open arms by the Mexican aristocracy, who seem to believe in the adage that "there are no friends like old friends" and through their habit of living en famille rarely lack society, seeming to find the companionship of their own relations sufficient. When greeting or entertaining strangers, they are effusive and seemingly enthusiastic; but most distinguished travellers have put it on record that those Mexicans who appeared to take most pleasure in their company and expressed the deepest friendship for them, were usually those who later most studiously avoided them. This queer dislike of new-comers has been commented upon by nearly all British visitors to Mexico, who have placed their experiences on record. Does it arise from the custom of the Old Colonial times when each man's house was his castle, and when the fear of the savage or the bandit lay heavy upon the community? Surely not, or our cousins of North America would also have evolved the cult of the family nucleus! No; it is a legacy from the customs of old Spain, where family life (as in most Latin countries) is still more patriarchal than gregarious.
However sincere or otherwise they may be, the Mexicans of the upper classes are delightful people socially once the ice of their reserve is really broken. Courtesy and sympathy are their outstanding characteristics; social faux pas are rare because of a rigorous breeding and training, and gaucherie is unheard of among them. They have, however, an almost Oriental symbolism of speech, which at first puzzles the ​stranger unaccustomed to the extravagance of their phraseology. Thus, should one admire anything in a Mexican house, the owner at once makes him a present of it—a verbal present, for should the visitor take him at his word and decamp with the article, no one would be more surprised than his host.
The method of introduction prevailing is quaint and formal. "Allow me to introduce you" says a host, when making two persons known to each other. The younger man (or the man, if one happens to be a lady) then pronounces his name, giving his full Christian and surnames, followed by his mother's name, the two connected by the letter y, which in Spanish means "and." The person to whom he is being introduced follows suit, and the ceremony (for it is a ceremony in the real sense of the word) is complete. Let us visualize a Mexican introduction.
"Enrique Pedro Martinez y Mariscal" sonorously intones one of the men. "Manuel de Salagua y Aldesoro" responds the other, bowing deeply. Compliments are exchanged, and the pair are acquaintances.
The Mexican hospitality is never casual, and all entertainments are exhaustively planned. Dinners and luncheons are elaborate affairs, and no one is ever asked Mexican Dinner. to take "pot luck." The men is usually Parisian in character, but a few Mexican dishes still hold their own. Before dinner, a liqueur glass of brandy is handed to everyone as an aperitif, and is drunk neat, the draught being followed by iced water. When seated at table, the guests invariably pin their table-napkins beneath their chins before commencing "business." The meal is usually a prolonged one, and a couple of dozen of courses may be passed round ere its conclusion. Ices are served half-way through, and the first dessert comes before the preserves and pastry. A good deal of wine is drunk at such functions, and many healths and toasts are usually proposed and honoured. Champagne is handed round at the conclusion
​of the repast, during the latter part of which the men—but not the ladies—smoke cigars or cigarettes. There is a common fallacy current that Mexican and Spanish-American ladies smoke both en famille and at public functions. Ladies of the best class in Mexico do not smoke as a rule, or, if they do, they enjoy the weed in strict privacy. Women smokers in Mexico are usually those of the lower middle class.
A day in the life of a Mexican family much resembles that spent by one belonging to any of the Latin races of Europe. The desayuno, or first breakfast, consists simply of coffee or chocolate, taken soon after rising. Equestrian exercise may follow or correspondence may be attended to, after which comes the breakfast proper, served between 9 and 12, and much resembling the French déjeuner à la fourchette. Professional or other duties occupy the time until 4 or 6, when dinner is served. Supper follows at 8, after which come chocolate and cigars. The wealthy eat much and often, the poor scarcely sufficient to maintain life.
Some very antiquated social customs still obtain. Thus in all reception rooms, and even in public offices, there is a sofa with a rug in front of it, and chairs at either end. As in Germany, this is the seat of honour to which, on entering, the guest is ushered. On departing, he is accompanied by the host to the staircase—the drawing-room being usually on the second floor—and, when he descends, raises his hat to the ladies—a dreadful breach of etiquette according to British social standards.
Men taking leave of one another usually embrace, that is, they place their arms on each other's shoulders and pat each other on the back. Younger men generally kiss the hand of the elder, whom they invariably address as "Señor." Indeed, sons address their fathers by this title; and in all grades of society intense reverence is paid to age, authority and experience. No young fellow will advance an opinion before his elders, unless he is asked for it—a rare occurrence, ​whilst no youth would think of smoking or drinking before his father or his father's friends without permission.
Society in Mexico city is circumscribed and limited in numbers, owing to the fact that nearly everyone is related to everyone else. Clubs are numerous. At the head of these stands the Jockey Club, housed superbly in the Calle San Francisco, the most fashionable thoroughfare of Mexico. Its exterior of carved stone inset with tiles of white and blue is intensely striking, and it possesses a wonderful stone stair-case. Some years ago it had a reputation for heavy gaming, but it is said that that reproach is now withdrawn. The Casino Español in Esperitu Santo is also a magnificent pile, and houses the Spanish residents in Mexico city—no mean community, and by far the most wealthy in the capital. The Casino Nacional has also a distinguished membership of Mexican gentlemen, many of whom are of scientific and diplomatic significance.
Brittanic indeed is the British Club. The British in Mexico are for the most part men of commercial standing, and "free and easy" is the motto of this establishment. The American Club has one of the largest memberships in Mexico, and is a model of comfort and hospitality. There are also clubs connected with many other nationalities.
The practice of the Medical Art is in efficient hands in Mexico. This is in contradistinction to the rest of Latin-America, where medical assistance is, generally Doctors. speaking, rather poor and dear. Surgery is at a fairly high level. The Mexican doctor does not dispense, but fees are moderate, averaging about four or five shillings a visit. Many Mexican practitioners receive their training in the United States, and make apt pupils because of their quickness and receptivity. The lower orders seek the herbalist and his kindred for a cure; but, as a rule, the services of the genuine medical man are in their case, to be had for the asking.
It is doubtful if anywhere else there is so much wretchedness ​and distress as among the submerged tenth of the lower quarters of Mexican cities and towns. It is only about forty years since Mexico city was infested by some The Poor. 20,000 leperos or lazzaroni, whose laziness constituted a social pest which had to be done away with by special legislation. It was a truly beneficent law which enacted that all vagrants must work or suffer imprisonment; and if the cure has not proved a radical one, it has at least mitigated the nuisance, to say nothing of the menace, to society of a large unproductive population. But beggars, the maimed, the halt, and the blind still swarm in the cities and make their appeal at every street corner. These wretches seem to be regarded by the comfortable classes as less than human, and the gulf between them is so wide, that in some Mexican towns the central plaza has two paved footpaths—the inner for the upper classes and the outer for the native people!
Trades and callings are almost hereditary in Mexico. As one who has specialised in the subject of Mexican antiquities, I am inclined to believe that this is a remnant of ancient caste practice, for there are signs Trades and Callings. that such was observed in Ancient Mexico. Thus if a man is a tailor, all his sons usually become tailors. The same thing applies to localities. Nearly every district has its industry—pottery, basket-making, cotton-spinning, or what not; and practically every soul in the community adheres to the local activity. Towns or villages situated close to one another do not compete in trade, but, as if by common consent, adopt separate industries.
Of the standard trades—the carpenters, masons, tailors, butchers—I do not intend to speak, as these display practically the same idiosyncrasies in all lands. It will be more to the purpose to describe those trades which are purely Mexican in character, leaving the more stately "industries" of the country for treatment in the chapter upon "Mexican Commerce and Finance."
​And, first, the water-carriers. These are, in reality, persons of importance in a land like sunburnt Anahuac, where water is not "laid on" in the majority of dwellings, Water-carriers but is brought to the capital in aqueducts, and distributed by carriers who earn from 50 to 75 cents a day. The water-carrier is usually a staid, almost solemn-looking person, clothed in bronze-coloured garments of leather, which match his skin in hue, bearing on his back a large pig-skin full of "the element by which he liveth," suspended by a broad leathern band which he supports with his forehead and by the strength of his muscular neck. In front of him he carries an earthenware jug, which is not intended, as some imagine, to measure the fluid he sells, but which, alas, he does not himself patronise. It holds a smaller supply of water to balance the larger vessel, and the two represent his "load."
Perhaps "too much familiarity breeds contempt," and having earned his scanty pay, he hastens with it to that scourge of Mexico, the pulqueria, where he usually succeeds in "drowning remembrance of his watery toil." He has an odd way of keeping tally with the housewives with whom he deals. Along with the jars of water he hands them a small berry, and this at the week's end is redeemed at the rate of 1½ cents for each.
His antithesis is the pulquero or seller of pulque, who traffics the national beverage through the streets in large pig-skins. This he extracts twice a day from The Pulquero. the agave plant - When it begins to put forth its high central flowering stalk, the core is cut out and a receptacle left capable of holding three to four gallons, into which flows the sap which should support the stalk. This is withdrawn by means of a long gourd and emptied into the pulquero's pig-skin. The pulquero usually wears a cloth jacket and low-crowned sombrero, and is clean, alert, and businesslike—as, by the way, are most people who deal in intoxicants!
​The sale of tortillas in the streets is undertaken by the enchiladera, who is but the "middle-woman" between the manufacturer of the Mexican staff of life and Tortilla Sellers. the working classes. A woman will collect a small army of, say, a dozen assistants, who manufacture the tortillas, and it falls to the enchiladera to retail the dainties. She usually establishes herself at the door of a pulqueria, where she dispenses the pancakes of maize-flour smoking hot, which she manages to do by spreading them on a chafing-dish. Sometimes she sells turn-over tortillas, in shape resembling what in Scotland are known as "Forfar bridies," and which contain meat and chilli, or cheese and onions. These she retails at the extraordinary price of two for a cent and a half, and manages to make a profit out of the transaction!
Other lesser occupations abound. There are, for instance, the cateiteros, or wooden-tray sellers; the petatero, or seller of reed mats, at a medio or about threepence apiece, and used as beds by the very poor, of whom there are sometimes twenty sleeping in the same room. There are also the jaulero, or bird-cage sellers; the cedaceros, or sieve sellers; the canasteros, or basket sellers; and others who make and carry articles in huge loads from town to town, manufacturing and selling them on their way. Then there are the cabazeros, whose street-cry is "Good heads of sheep hot!" the cafatero, or proprietor of a coffee-stand; the velero, or candle seller; the mereillero, or pedlar of hardware; the tripero, or vendor of entrails used as the casing for sausage meat; the pollero, or chicken seller; the escobero, or broom-corn seller; the nevero, or ice-cream seller; the mantequero, or lard carrier; and the pirulero, or seller of piru, a red berry used for feeding birds. There are men termed leñadores, whose lifetime is spent in gathering sticks, from which to manufacture charcoal; there are women called casureras, whose days are passed in gathering rags; and there are the lavanderas, or washer-women, of whom the better class wear a hat over the rebozo, while the rest go bareheaded.
​Perhaps the most picturesque of the numerous street-vendors in Mexican cities are the flower and fruit sellers. The ancient Aztecs had a passion for flowers, and this they have bequeathed to their Flower Sellers. present-day representatives in full measure. The little stalls in the plazas are tastefully and sometimes lavishly decorated with the wonderful blossoms from the deep tropical valleys. But, oddly enough, these are seldom seen in the houses of the upper and middle classes, who appear to prefer the artificial abominations which, like stuffed birds and antimacassars, remind one unpleasantly of the unlamented Victorian age of domestic decoration in our own land. Flowers fade so quickly in the rarified atmosphere of Mexico, that this is perhaps the reason for their non-appearance in the apartments of the capital, except, perhaps, at dinner-parties and similar functions.
A fair type of the original Aztecs may be found among the boatmen and women who ply their trade on the Chalco canal, bringing into the capital flowers and vegetables from the remains of the floating gardens. The boats are of two kinds: one resembling a canoe and usually managed by a woman; the other flat-bottomed, 6 or 8ft. wide, 30 or 40ft. long, and capable of carrying the produce belonging to two or three families. Many of the latter have a cabin in the middle, which forms the home of the occupants, where they work, eat, and sleep.
A great deal of vegetable-growing is done in the chinampas, or floating gardens as they are called. These are formed from mud and vegetable formations either upon the lakes or the canals. On the larger bodies of water they can be propelled across Floating Gardens. the surface by aid of a large pole. On the canals they are seldom larger than about a quarter of an acre, and some of them even support fair-sized trees. These gardens are cultivated the whole year round.
All through the night, every quarter of an hour, is heard ​the shrill whistle of the policeman. The force is well appointed, and with almost a military organisation, copied The Police.after the French system. The salary is $1 a day for both guardas, or day-watchmen, and, serenos, or night-watchmen. The belated traveller is challenged by the officer as by a sentry with the cry of Quien va? ("Who goes there?") and must promptly respond Amigo! ("A friend!"). If further questioned, he must answer to the Donde vive? or "Where do you live?" with the name of his hotel or place of lodging. Then he is allowed to pass; but if the reply should be unsatisfactory, he is immediately arrested.
Café life, if it is not quite such an institution as in some European countries, is sufficiently a phase of Mexican existence Café Life.to require some description. "Sylvani's" resembles the Café de la Paix in Paris. The Chapultepec Café, near the entrance to the park of that name, is the smartest in Mexico city, and is the resort of the cream of Mexican society on Sundays and high days. The scheme of the Mexican café, or restaurant of the better class, is uncompromisingly French. String bands discourse at most of these places of entertainment.
The cheaper cafés and restaurants, the resorts of the lower orders, provide cheap but tasty fare, practically every dish of which is so smothered in chilli sauce as to be almost uneatable to any but a native. The surroundings are rather crude and the service perfunctory, but it is here that one sees a part of the real Mexico. The dish may be enchiladas, that is, tortillas containing cheese and onion or meat, served with radish or salad, and garnished with the eternal chilli sauce, the peppers of the chilli when green often actually being served stuffed with cream cheese! Or perhaps one may be treated to fried eggs and frijoles—also served with chilli accompaniments or "trimmins," needless to say.
The manner in which animals are treated in Mexico is certain to rouse and disgust the British visitor. It is no ​uncommon thing to see horses and mules lie down and die in the street, belaboured the while by their task-masters in Cruelty to Animals.the attempt to galvanise them back into life. These wretched animals are usually starved and present a shocking appearance. This abominable cruelty is, unfortunately, extended to children, who, when of tender years, are sent on errands which necessitate the carrying of heavy loads. This sort of thing often ruins a visit to Mexico, for people of compassionate sensibilities and even the more hardened will frequently feel the flush of indignation arise to their cheeks at recurring exhibitions of inhumanity. What is to blame? The deadening influence of pulque and the brutalising sport of the bull-ring—which of these more than the other it would indeed be difficult to say.
The Mexican, like other Spanish-Americans, is a true citizen of cities; and this would be all the more surprising, Preference for City Life.considering the Colonial antecedents of the race, did we not find that in many lands it is just the country folk—those who are brought up with the smell of the meadow in their nostrils—who press towards the town with the greatest determination. But the country is abhorred by your Mexican cockney as dearly as it is loved by his London prototype. If a rural pilgrimage becomes necessary, it is regarded as nothing short of a disaster, and condolences crowd in upon the unfortunate who must perforce tempt the rigours of such an expedition. It must be remembered, of course, that a sharp line of demarcation exists between city and country life in the Republic. The rural population is rural indeed, and is in no manner sophisticated as with ourselves. Many country people in Great Britain, and especially in Scotland, are more up to date and wideawake than even Liverpudlians or Glasgovians. But this is by no means the case in Mexico. Quit the confines of the towns and almost at once you enter an environment of absolute ruralism, unless, perchance, you ​happen to be in a mining vicinity. In many of the provincial States, roads are primitive to a degree; and, although railway communications are perhaps the best in Latin-America and generally under the immediate superintendence of British officials and engineers, yet few Europeans succeed in comprehending the intense remoteness of many Mexican localities, their solitude and heart-breaking isolation.
All the same, many Mexican families retire to their haciendas during the summer season. This they do because they regard it as a duty, and not because they like it. No! They pine for their patios and their stately chambers which look directly on to the street. There are, of course, old families who reside upon their estates for the sufficient reason that the condition of their finances does not permit them to keep house in the capital.
Like London, Mexico city was undergoing a process of rehabilitation immediately prior to the days of the Rebuilding Mexico.Revolution. It was, indeed, passing through a transition stage. Old buildings were in process of being scrapped, their places being taken by beautiful new edifices which, when completed, would make it one of the handsomest cities in the world. Thus the Legislative Building, a Renaissance pile, was being constructed at a cost of £1,000,000; a new Post Office was gradually arising; the War Office which was destined to supplant the old building was to cost over £100,000; and on a National Pantheon £1,000,000 was to have been lavished—all these were works of the Diaz régime, ever active, ever taking on new responsibilities. But are they finished? Do they still stand incomplete? Who can tell? The strict censorship exercised on news leaving the country renders it impossible to say. But those who have reliance in Mexican patriotism can confidently predict that it is equal to the task of the rehabilitation of the capital, backed up as it will be by the great wealth of the country when the present sorry ​state of things is over and firm government and popular security are once more established.
Dress in Mexico appears to be just as dependent on fashion among the higher classes as European costume. The fashions of New York and Paris have for almost a generation been adopted by the upper classes, and national garments formerly worn by all grades are now being abandoned to the peon. But here and there a remnant of the picturesque remains. The costume worn by ladies in the street is frequently black, while for headgear they sometimes wear a thin veil or mantilla. Some classes of Mexican women unwittingly hasten the ravages of time by using cosmetics too freely, which spoils their complexions and tends to a premature appearance. The poorer women also wear an article of apparel called a rebozo, a kind of thin cotton shawl, usually sombre in colour. It is about three yards long by three-quarters of a yard wide, and it is worn draped gracefully round the head and shoulders. The men of the peon class, in contrast to European custom, are, as a whole, much more gorgeously attired than their women-folk, and affect showy and brilliant garments. An article of headgear which they are fond of decorating is the sombrero. This is a wide-brimmed felt hat, usually light grey or white, which, for decorative purposes, is faced with silver lace, and bands of silver are twined round the foot of the crown, the whole being occasionally completed with a silver fringe.
The zarape is a garment at one time popular with Mexican men in all grades of society, but it is now sharing the fate of the rebozo, and is worn mostly by labourers and the lower classes. It consists of a thick shawl, which may sometimes be gaily striped, or, in the more costly varieties, decorated with gold and silver, though others are beautifully embroidered. The zarape is often red in colour and, when made in cheaper materials, costs from $2 to $5, but in richer cloths it may reach the price of $5,000. When on horseback, the Mexican is brilliant in his charro costume, which is of ​deerskin, his trousers being sewn with silver or brass buttons, which are placed close together up the side-seam of the leg; and these garments are also frequently ornamented by fancy facings on the back and legs. In rough country, trousers, called chaperreras, are worn over the others, and this picturesque dress is finished with a heavy beaver-felt hat with a deep crown.
The dress of a Mexican country gentleman is not unlike the riding costume described above, with the exception that a ruffled shirt is sometimes worn, and the jacket is made of black cloth trimmed with rows of buttons, or ornamented with fur and costly silver or gold embroidery. This coat is fastened with a tab of cloth held by two buttons. The sombrero is usually elaborately decorated and sewn with the owner's monogram.
The holiday dress of the superior Indian is of a brilliant hue, that of the male being the more gaudy. The man wears Native Dress.a pair of crimson trousers edged with cream-coloured lace, which reach to a few inches to above his bare ankles. For his upper garment he wears a yellow tunic striped with orange, round which is worn a blue belt. Over his shoulders is a species of zarape made of patterned cotton tied at the neck with blue ribbon. The colours mentioned are, of course, subject to variation. The Indian woman affects quieter apparel than that worn by her husband. Her brown skirt is full and reaches to above her ankles, while it has a narrow edging of green and blue. Her upper garment is a long white tunic trimmed at the foot and waist with green and blue respectively, over which is thrown a transparent garment trimmed with a narrow red strip at the sleeves, foot, and down the front. The entire transparent tunic is completed with graceful points of cream lace, and the whole reaches to her knees. The colours mentioned are characteristic, but are variable according to the taste of the wearer.
The everyday dress of the labourer consists of a zarape, ​with a slit in the middle for the wearer's head to pass through: this garment is allowed to hang from the shoulders. Usually a white cotton blouse, shirt, and pantaloons are worn underneath, and the costume is completed with a brilliant sash and leathern sandals, while the familiar sombrero crowns all.
The peon woman wears an everyday dress which might be found among the lower classes in almost any European country. She attires herself in a fairly full skirt, a white tunic blouse over which she throws a rebozo—the enveloping shawl described above.
The livery of the Mexican coachman is rather incongruous when compared with the gorgeous equipages he attends, and consists of an ordinary tweed suit with a bowler or crush hat. Occasionally liveries are worn, but only very rarely. The house servant wears a suit of rough cotton, in shape not unlike a man's pyjama suit; while the female servant dresses, as a rule, like the peon women.
On certain festal days it is a custom for bodies of girls clothed in white to sing in unison on their way to church. The orthodox dress of an aldeana on such occasions is somewhat elaborate a white muslin garment trimmed with lace, over a short parti-coloured petticoat; a sleeveless, bright-coloured, satin vest, open in front; a long, coloured sash and rebozo; and as many gold or silver ornaments as the wearer can afford to purchase.
A unique and beautiful dress was that designed and carried out by Señora E. Leon, of Aguascalientes. In the making of this exquisite gown, which is composed of drawn-work, she was assisted by 300 expert needlewomen. It consists of a short Zouave jacket, and a berthe with a full skirt and long train. No seams are to be seen in this marvellous piece of work, which is valued to the extent of $40,000 Mexican (about £4,000). Señora Leon must have had wonderful patience, as this dress, which was designed for a Mexican exhibit at a Paris exhibition, but unfortunately was not completed in time, took nine years to finish. When finished, ​it presented an appearance of costly lace, and gave a beautiful, filmy effect.
An amusing regulation was passed in Mexico some years ago to the effect that the Indians were to be compelled to wear trousers, as, desiring greater freedom of limb, they frequently appeared without them.
The holiday dress of the women of Tehuantepec is as distinct from other Mexican costumes as its wearers are renowned for their beauty of figure and carriage. Their headgear plays an important part, as it has a legend attached to it. It consists of a frilled piece of material called the uipil, and the story goes that it is symbolical of a baby's skirt. This baby was rescued by some of the people of Tehuantepec from drowning, and the head-dress is worn for luck, as the little foundling was supposed to have brought an abundance of good fortune to those who succoured it. It is arranged in different ways; one fashion being to drape it round the head and shoulders, while the other style is to wear it right round the head and chin, almost like an Elizabethan ruff, or a Normandy peasant's festal bonnet. The remainder of the costume is composed of a short tunic-bodice and a voluminous skirt, sometimes of check material, while the neck and arms are left bare. For better occasions, they sometimes wear a lace tunic or species of shawl; while the costume, which is reminiscent of Aztec days, forms a pleasing whole.