# Pictures of life in Mexico/Volume 1/Chapter 16

Contents
CHAPTER XVI.
THE AMERICANS IN MEXICO.
There was a superstition extant until lately, in Mexico, to the effect that, "whenever a party of Americans entered the country, they were sure to bring the wet season with them!" This prejudice, however, like many others of a more serious nature, appears to be passing rapidly away.
It is interesting to note the effect which the entrance of the Americans has produced upon the junior republic, in various respects: upon the habits of the inhabitants, on their opinions and prejudices, on their commodities and modes ​of dealings on their language, and on their general civilization. It is curious to discover how much ill-feeling, strongly excited though it was, has softened and yielded beneath a more familiar acquaintance; and to observe the ludicrous admixture of phrases and manners, consequent upon such association; the petty disappointments sometimes evidencing themselves; and the points of conduct in which the Mexicans have certainly derived no benefit from intercourse with their visitors.
Nothing could exceed the jealous suspicion with which the Mexicans formerly regarded other nations; more particularly, perhaps, the people of the United States. The hate and rancour with which the very name of American was mentioned, while hostilities were in progress, were immeasurable. But at the present time—though similar feelings may exist in the minds of many, in a slumbering state, only waiting an opportunity to burst forth in undisguised animosity—it is to be hoped, with a large proportion, that such kindly feelings are being fostered as will lead to happy results for both countries.
In respect of the broad principles of commerce, productions, and restrictions; the ​intercourse of Mexico with other nations has at present led to few salutary or promising results. Exclusiveness and short-sighted suspicion still remain the governing features of commercial policy: liberality, innovation, and improvement being alike carefully guarded against. Foreign productions of importance are excluded as ruinous; and the country is effectually protected against honourable traffic—though left open to the lawless proceedings of swindlers and smugglers of every grade.
The evils of this narrow policy, therefore, are continually manifest in every class of the community: the means of profitable interchange are comparatively closed to the wealthy, duties and taxes being most overwhelming; and the poor are oppressed, meanwhile, by the scantiness of employment, and the high prices of all articles which would minister to their comfort. Thus a poor Mexican has to pay for a woollen blanket, or a female for a cotton reboso, as large a sum as would purchase five precisely similar articles; if the productions of Europe and America were admitted on reasonable terms. Mechanical processes are all at an extremely low ebb: even their glass and leather articles are very inferior. Their ​boasted woollens, silks, laces, cottons, hats, and earthenware, would all be considered disreputable products in more liberal countries. Agricultural economy and farming implements are still more behind the rest of the world. There is scarcely a mill for grinding corn, I believe, in all Mexico; but the same method of bruising it is resorted to, as was practised in the most remote ages of the world. Their ploughs are of exactly the same formation as those in use a thousand years ago; being made of wood in the shape of a wedge, with no metal in them, and drawn by oxen—notwithstanding the vast number of horses and mules in the country. Other necessary implements are only like wooden sticks, with bits of iron, reminding one of rusty nails, attached to their lower extremities. And in every instance, no other reason appears to be advanced by your true Mexican for his apathy and backwardness, than the old and satisfactory one, "that such things were always so, and thus they must remain, for him!"
Some of their modes and habits of trading, however, have received an amusing colouring from their introduction to the Yankees. It is ​not unusual to meet with a Mexican who believes himself to have superadded a portion of their intelligence and shrewdness to his own dignity, or who professes a fondness for American uniforms and tobacco. They will tell you, also, if you hesitate with respect to the fairness of a bargain they are forcing on you, that it is the American mode. Some stray article to which you have taken a fancy, they will describe—by way of excuse for raising the price outrageously—as possessing the American finish. I once purchased a travelling valise, which I had seen in progress at a saddler's the week before, as coming direct from the United States.
A few years ago it would have been an unpardonable enormity to appear in the public streets in a long-tailed coat—as it would now be in the more remote districts of the republic, so vain are the Mexicans of their native costume—yet of late it is no uncommon occurrence to behold several coats of this sort in a street at once; stiff collar, meaningless flaps, and hindmost buttons, all included.
Many young ladies, also, of the better class, seem to delight in lisping forth a few broken American words, on particular occasions; ​pronouncing the English vowels with all the fulness peculiar to their own magnificent language; and making a most incongruous jumble of the whole affair. Many articles of established reputation under old Spanish names, with a few others of novel construction, now astonish their possessors by their new American appellations. Not a few conventional phrases and expressions, also, may be traced far northwards; and, upon the whole, an heretical traveller from Europe or the States, encounters far more forbearance, and is thought less monstrous, at the present time, than might have been the case before the period of the war.
​One cannot help wishing that a thorough reformation could be accomplished in the particular of gaining. This vice is fearfully, absorbingly prevalent: with thousands it appears to be the principal object of life: the whole of their time is devoted to it; and the most disgusting and repulsive scenes are continually to be observed as its accompaniments. It is far more rampant at this time than before the visit of the Americans; and, though it would probably be unjust to attribute its increase to them, it is certain that their presence and countenance had airy other effect than that of restraining it. Superstition, gaming, and indolence, are assuredly the three oppressive curses under which this fair country groans and labours.
I once became acquainted with a travelling pedlar named Joaquim Gaber, who was in the habit of wandering from one town and village to another, with his wares, when he could do so with impunity. He was a pleasant fellow, and I shall not soon forget his frank vivacity and readiness in conversation; nor the appearance of his small, spare, incomplete figure—he had only one arm—as he stooped beneath the weight of his huge package; and his ​shriveiled sun-dried countenance, and piercing eyes, that appeared to possess the secret of perpetual motion. Nor his old blue serapé, with its raised woollen border and ragged edges; his battered, ribbonless sombrero, with its excavated brim; his shirtless breast, with its adjacent faded sash—his only bosom friend; and his frowsy leathern small-clothes—which, generously opening at intervals on his legs, displayed his old green garters to public admiration and great advantage.
He had an elastic, ardent temper, which, in spite of unfavourable circumstances and foul weather, ever seemed to uplift him again, as suddenly as he had been depressed. He was very intelligent, for one of his class; had travelled much in his own country, and appeared to possess the faculty of reasoning on what he saw—a remarkably scarce quality among the poor in Mexico. I learned that he had been once overtaken by some detachments of the American army, as he was hastily returning from a trading expedition; and had been detained by a roving band in the capacity of a guide. So soon as I became aware of this chapter of his past experiences, therefore, I endeavoured to gain some little information ​from him, on the subject of his adventure and the effect it had upon his mind.
"When the Americans marched upon the interior of the country," he said, "after gaining every battle on the outskirts, the most horrible ideas of their cruelty and rapacity were set afloat. As they drew near the capital, we were given to understand that there was no torture nor disgrace to which they would not subject the inhabitants if they conquered us. The priests made themselves particularly busy in influencing the minds of the people in every part of the city, against them; and numbers of the secular clergy went from house to house of the wealthier classes—to arouse their zeal against the invaders, and to procure sums of money for the benefit of the cause. It was generally believed that our enemies were neither more nor less than a kind of monsters, permitted by Heaven to visit us, as a judgment upon our crimes and neglect of the Holy Church.
"For my own part, such a dreadful idea of our opponents had taken possession of me, that I could neither eat nor sleep: I was like one bereft of his senses. Every avenue of my mind seemed closed but that of fear; ​slumbering or wakings I was haunted by the image of our invaders; and I was in the act of making a precipitate retreat, at the moment I was surrounded by several of the hostile soldiers.
"But, above all, there was no deed of barbarity too horrible to be associated with my impression of the American generals. They were universally allowed to be the most atrocious impersonations of cruelty and rapacity it was possible to imagine. It was reported among a few that they had sworn by the Virgin and all the Saints, to hang every Mexican who should be so unfortunate as to fall into their hands; and I believe they were accredited, by others, to be emissaries direct from the Father of Evil himself, endowed with the most malicious determination to wreak his vengeance upon the capital.
"You may readily imagine my feelings of despair on finding myself in the power of such dreaded foes. I was in momentary expectation of being either shot or hung; and I could not at first understand why my execution was delayed. By slow degrees, however, I became aware that I was kindly treated, ​and that my captors betrayed no intention of sacrificing me, in revenge for the cruelties inflicted upon American prisoners by my people. I was allowed to wander about in any direction, nearly without restraint; and, as I before said, was occasionally employed as a guide among the mountains.
"I was still more surprised when I saw the American generals. In place of the brutal ladrones which my imagination had depicted, and in which our instructors had led us to believe—fierce tyrants with bloodthirsty visages and hides like wild beasts—I saw two agreeable, fair men, with paternal countenances and amiable manners. General Scott had a meaner look; but Taylor attracted by his unassuming dignity, and awed you by his firmness: there was something so fatherly about him, that I have loved to think upon it from that day to the present.
"I am sure many of my countrymen have a great respect for the people of the United States; they have reason to feel so. Their officers were kind, instead of cruel, to us: they spared our houses and our property; they were just towards our store-keepers.—Indeed, in many respects, our city has had ​cause to regret the period before they went away."