Latin History

22 Chapter 2

l'ltc rlee! disdain tltal ilIctican dites hurl Jor llte lrn,r,r.1rrrI.r, ftarticulorlt in thr toutttrysirlt. corncs througlt rlearly in thr remittiscettcts rl Brrrntz i\,layo ruhrt uns u {i.5. tlipktntat itr ilcxit o itt l81l und 1812.

BRANTZ MAYER, MEXICO AS IT WAS A/VD AS IT IS In the colrrse of this 21{icrno()l) rve 1>asst:rl thr-oush se\,crill Inrlian r,illirgcs, ancl sa\\' Iltltllbers of pcople ilt \\,()rk in the lieltls b1.thc loarl sirle. Trr,o tlrit-rcs struck ntc: tlrst, tl.re n-riser:rblc hovels in rvl'riclr the Indians arc lorlged. in cornp:u'ison n,ith uhich a decent clog-kennel at h()me is a comfollablc horrscl.rol<l; anrl second, the fact that this, although tl're Sabbirth, rvas r-ro clar'ol repose t() thesc cver'-n'orking, brrt pool arr<l tlrriftless peoltle. Nlanv of tltc'tlt'elche<l creatrrrcs \\'erc sto\\'(](l a\r,av rorrlel t rooJ'ol thutch, sluck ort tlru barc gtound, uitlt a hok kfi ul one rttrl ttt tratul itt!

\\'hat c:iu bc the bcnefit of a Reprrblican fl-orr of'tlre govclnnlent [o nrusses ol sttclt a poprrlation? Thev irarc r-io anrbition t<l irnpr-or.e thcir condition, ()l'in so plcrr- teotrs a coulrtrv it rvoulcl be inrprovcd; they are corltcnt to livc ancl lic likc thc beasts of the fielcl; tltev Iriu.e no qrtalifications lbr sclf-govenrnrent. ancl thev cirrr har,e n<r hopc, u*|rc:rt a lit-e o1 such toil avails not to :rvoirl srrc'h rrrisert,. [s it prissible firl such mcl) to lrecortre Rcpnblicans? It appeals to rr)c thllt the lil'e o1'a negr'<t, trnclet'a go<t<l lrtaster, in ottt'coulltl')', is lar bcttcr thirn the beirstly cleglaclation ol'the Indian here. \\'ith trs, he is at le:rst ir rnirn: but in \Iexico. cven the irrstincts of lris hurnirn n2itr.llc are sc:rrcelv ;>r'eselr crl.

It is trtrc that thesc rnen irre ./)r'r'. iurrl hiuc thc unqrrcstiolablc libelti', alicr riris- ine their crop o1'Il'uits or vceetablcs, l() trot rvith it filtr, or sixtv rniles, ()n lix)t, t() market; u'het.c tirc prorltrce of thcir toil is. in a f'eu horrrs sltcnt, citherr at thc galn- bling table ol thc ptrlqtre sliop. AIter llris tht'r'have tlrt: libcrtr,. as soon irs tl)cv gct s<>lter, ttt trot l)ackugaitt io thcir kt'rincls in thc morrntairrs. i{ ther,ilre ll()t preriotrslv las.soed l>r'sorrrc recnriting st:rgeant. ar-rrl fbrc<:cl to "\'olullteer" ir-r tlre arn'n. \irt u,hiri is the rr'orth of'suclt pitr'poscless libern or thc north o1'strch prrrposeless life? Thcr-c is rrot a sirrglc inglcdierrt o{'ir nolrlc-spiriterl und hiehrninderl ntorrtrtaitt pcasutrtryin thcrn. Nlixecl in tlreir raccs, thel'have bcen cnslavcrl anrl rlear.adecl l;t'thc c()nclucst; grottncl into itbject serrilitr'<lrrritrs the (lolorrial g()\'erlllnellt: corr-trpterl in sltit'it ltv the superstitious rites ol an ignorant pliestlroocl; :rncl nou, rvithorrt ho1>e, x'ithorrt eclttcation, rvithorrt otht:r itttcrest in theil rrr:I1'arc. ihau that of sonre goocl-lrr':rrtccl villirse curate , thel'rlrae out u miser':rblc t:xistcrrce of beastialitr an(l crirnc. Shali sur:h men be expr:cted to govcrn theniselves?

Blittrtz \larer. -I/r'rira.li lt llru tttrl.\r /t1r. \cr'\irrk:.J. \\'incltt'trr. \r.r \\irrkl Plt.ss. l,\.11.

48 Chapter 4

Qnnor prtrtrio, prolcctof of Patrolt. The l'ehlctance to llse the term of senlror rnal' perhaps have conrntencecl rvith tlre inrnrediirte desceudants of'those u,ho rvere irt slaverr,, and thns thc obiection rnat'have become traclitional. Thel'ntay rcltrse to givc bt, cotrrtesy u,hat rurs onr:e reqttircrl fl-orn tht:rn b,v larr'. Hon'ever, if it bcgan in this firallnet-, it is not n()\y coutinucd f<rr tire same Ieason, as none of those $'ith rvhorn I conr.erserl, and thet,rvere verv rnan]. irpl)carecl to kno'w that their allcestors had been obliged to'rvor-k as slales.

The u,omen lrou'ever clo not, iln-l()llg thcse serni-barbariaus, perforln the prin- cipal drudger',v; if tlre hrisbartrl is at lronre, he fetclies u,ater front tlie rivrrlet aucl fuel frorn the nood; he brrilds tlrc hut irtile his rvife takes sl-relter in sonte neig^hbor"s shecl. But if tlre1, tr:u,el, she has her' )'()uns children to carr)', the Pots, the baskets, anci the excavate(l goin'cls, rvhile the husbanrl takcs his rvallet o1'goatskin and his harnmock rolled u1t r-ipon his back. his {ishing rret aucl his artns, arud rvalks in the rear. The chilclren itre u,asherl on the dav of their birth in the nearest brook or pool o1'water. Both men ancl the lvornell are cleanll, ir-r many of their habits, irnd particu- larlt,in those relatirlg to their persolls.

Hcnn K()ster. l)ni'tl: itt 1}a:l/. Clarliorr<lale: Southcrn flniversit'Press. 1961i. Lonrlon. llll6.

Cennan Cnrl ,\artorirts (1796-1872) niglated to llexico in 1824, nentually settling in th,e .state oJ Vcrarrtrl-. wlttrc ltt otrrttcrl u :truur plrnfiation. Flc ltet:a,nte an auid obsatter of tlu' plants attrl rtninul.s oJ lhe trp'iott tuitlt ronrtctliotts to tlte Smitltsonian Institution itt \\hshinglort, D.C. lk rurttlc llu,botit, itt 1850. Jron uhich utc haue laken o rr'umber oJ stlertion.s. Srtrtrn'itt,s tpos ttot on( to pt(s()il u.firuoruble picture oJ tlx' loutcr classe.s. lJul in li.s dcsctiplion o.f llte morltst Indiutt rluelling, onc uut almost detect admimtiott.

INDIAN DWELLINC, FROM SARTORIUS, MEXICO ABOUT 1B5O

The Incliar-r's drvelling is ir.r kecpins u'ith his sin'rple persol]. L-r the rvarmer, rvcll- rvoodecl re5Jions he eeneralll,btiilcls liis lrrrt ol*'oocl. Unhervn logs srrpport the bean'rs ancl roof. arc drir.en into the grouncl. anrl crc<:pir-rg plants u,hich nvine ar'otinrl them, strpply the place ol'fl'arrre-rr'ork. Str iuv or palrnJeirvcs constitute tirc r oofing; the rvzrlls are rnade o1'sticks of barnboo. or slcnrlt'r stakes u'hich :rllbrcl the lieht liee ingress t<> the interior.'fhe r-oof on onc sidc is comrnonlvplolong-ed into a porch, supportcrl r-lpon posts. This rrain builclirrg is ordinarilv irborrl fiventr'fir'e feet long. and ilfteen rvicle, rvithout partitions n'ithin. A srnallcr orrer is often.joincd to this to ansrver the purpose of kitchen.

Upon the hishel table-lanrls thc lrouses are btrilt oI'trnburnt brick (also ol stones plastered u'itl-r rntrd) rvith a flirt roof'constnrctecl of beams laid close together rvith a covering o{ irnelv rvaslred <:lar', rvhich is stamperl rvith great care. In the moun- tait-ts one oficn secs roofs covere<l ivith shingles, and in the plains rvirere the agar,e abottntls, thc flo*'cr--stirlks arrcl lealcs ol lhis l)l21nt al'e rised for the ptrrpose, rvhile tl.re rvails-so-calleci clrr n':ills-2,." brrilt ol stonc rvithout lnortar.

hrside the htrt, r.rl)ol1 a lloor of cirrth.iust:ts lrature fbrrnecl it, btrrns dav and night the sacrecl lire ol the rlomestic hcartl.r. Near it, stand the ntdrrte and mdtlpile, a

Everyday Life in the Nineteenth Century Countryside

flat and a cylindrical stone for crushing the maize, and the earthen pan (comale) for baking the maize bread. A ferv rurglazed eartherl pots arld dishes, a large 'water pitcher, a drinking cup and dipper of gourd-shell constitute the 'rvhole u,ealth of the Indian's cottage, a ferv rr.rde carvings, representirlg saints, the decoration. Neither table nor benches cnmber the room u'ithin, mass of rushes or palmJeaves ansrver both for seat and table. They serve as beds too fbr their rest at night, and for their final rest in the grave.

The utensils of the man, as a rnattock and a hoe, together rvith a few strings and nets, hang upon the rvall. and close by, the rveaving apparatus of the women, consisting only of a ferv simple rods. A number of baskets of rvoven palmJeaves sus- pended from the beams above by grass-cordage, contain the scanty provision of all kinds, salt, beans, rice, eggs, cotton, soap etc. These baskets take the place of chests and cupboards, and are thlrs hung aloft to protect the contents from the inroads of dogs, ants and children. Upon a longer line hangs a contrivance somewhat larger, perhaps three f'eet long by tlvo u,ide, of nvigs bound togetheq in construction simi- Iar to the traps in lvhich boys catch titmice. The inside is cor,,ered with a piece of mat- ting. Its purpose does not long rernain a rnysterv, for a half naked Indian baby norv and then lets his voice be heard; rvhereupon a push sets the basket in motion like a swing; and the little aeronaut is again brousht to a state of slumber.

CarlSartorilrs. t\ltxicoAbout 1850. (,\lcxiro. [,ntuLscnptsuntl I'opulurSkdclrrs. 1858) Reprint. Stlrttgart: FA Brocklr;rtrs Konrm, IUlil.

Brantz Mayr (1809-1879), a lauler and hter a prolific autho4 uas secretarl of the legation of the U.S. diplornotic ntission to Nlexico in l8$. Mexico as it rvas and as it is eaident$ stirred some controuer.sy ouev its anal\sis rf the ilIexira,ns. Nonetheless, he prouid,es a meticulous$ detailed desciptiort oJ a ntodest hotne in central )\Iexico.

HOUSE IN THE COUNTRYSIDE, FROM MAYER, MEXICO AS IT WAS AI\/D AS IT IS The house is built of mud and reeds, matted together; that is, there are four walls without other aperture but a door, rvhile a thatch, supported on poles, spreads on either side from the roof-tree, forming a porch in front. This thatch is not allowed to touch the tops of tl-re rvalls, but betrveen them ar-rd it, all around the house, a space of five or six feet has been left, my means of rvhich a free circulation of air is kept up rvithin. The interior (of one room,) is in perfect keeping nith tl-ris aboriginal sim- plicity. Along the rvestern rvall there are a number of rvretched engravings of saints, with inscriptions and verses beneath them; next, a huge picture of the Virgin of Guadalupe, with tarnished gilded rays, blaze in the center; and near the corner is nailed a massive cross, rvith the figure of onr Saviour apparently bleeding at every pore. A reed and spear are crossed belorv it, and large wreaths and festoons of marigolds are hung around. Six tressels, r,vith reeds spread over them, stand against the wall; and in one corner a dilapidated canop),, rvith a tattered curtain, rears its pre- tentious head to do the honors of state-bedstead. The floor is of earth, and, in a cor- ner, are safely stowed our saddles, bridles, gur-rs, pistols, holsters, srvords and

50 Chapter 4

spurs-so that taking a sidelong glance at the whole establishment, you might well doubt whether you were in a stable, church, sleeping-room or chicken-coop!

Don Miguel Benito-the owner and proprietor of this valuable catalogue of domestic comforts-received us with great cordiality. He is a man some fifty years of age; delights in a shirt, the sleeves of which have been so long rolled up, that there is no longer anything to roll down; and a pair of those elastic leather-breeches that last one's life-time in Mexico, and grow to any size that may be required, as the fortunate owner happens to fatten with his years. Not the least curious part of Don Miguel's household, is his female establishment . . . . As not less than a dozen women, of all colors and complexions, hover about his dwellings; while at least an equal number of little urchins, with light hair and dark, (but all with an extraordinary resemblance to the Don,) roll over the mud floors of the neighboring huts or amuse themselves by lassoing the chickens.

G-, the caterer of our mess, thought it but a due compliment to Don Miguel (who does not disdain to receive your money) to order supper-though we resolved to fall back in case of necessity upon our own stores and accordingly, unpacked some pots of soup and sardines.

In the course of an houE a board was spread upon four sticks, and in the mid- dle of it was placed a massive brown earthen platter, with the stew. At the same time, a dirty copper spoon and a hot tortillia were laid before each of us. Although we had determined to hold ourselves in reserve for our soups, yet there was but little left of the savory mess. Our turtle, flanked with lemons and claret, then came into play; and the repast was ended by another smoking platter of the universal frijoles.

Wild and primitive as was the scene among these simple Indians, I have seldom passed a pleasanter evening, enlivened with song and wit. When we crept to our reed tressels and serapes, at eleven o'clock, I found that the state-bed was already occu- pied by a smart-looking fellorv from the West Coast, (who I take to have been rather deeply engaged in the contraband), and his young wife-a lively looking lass, rather whiter than the rest of the brood-who had spruced herself up on our arrival. Twelve of our party lodged together in that capacious apartment, while Don Miguel betook himself, with the rest of his household, to mats under the porch.

Brantz Mayer, Mexico As It \\'as and As It Is. New York: J. Winchester, New \Abrld Press, 1844.

The sa'tdo, the name for much of the Northeast of Brazil, nowadays the most duperately poor area of the countrl, uas dffictilt terrain. Koster traueled during the rairy season.

SERTAO, FROM KOSTER, TRAVELS 1A/ BRAZIL

Unlike the peons of the country in the vicinity of the river Plata, the sertanejo has about him his wife and family, and lives in comparative comfort. The cottages are small and are built of mud, but afford quite sufficient shelter in so fine a climate; they are covered with tiles where they are to be had, or, as is more general, with the leaves of the carnariba. Hammocks usually supply the place of beds, and are by far more comfortable, and these are likewise frequendy used as chairs. Most of the better sort of cottages contain a table,

Everyday Life in the Nineteenth Century Countryside

whatever is offered, and hire people to assist in convel,ing the cattle or produce to a market, where they are exchanged for goods, and thell the orvner again returns. A twelve-month is sornetimes passed in turning over the property once; but the profits are usually enormolls, two or three hundred per cent.

Henry Koste r, 'lintnls itt Brruzil Carbond:rle: Sottthertr Unilersitv Prcss. I9(r(i. London, 1U16.

Sartorius in this passage tooh pa,ins to differcntilte betueen rtte.stizo anrl Indirms. It. uas, perltaps, his attempt to explore the interrulationship betueen race and cluss in fu[exico. People often were labeled by their dress, langua,ge, weal,th, und ha.bils tnore lhr.nt the color o/' their skin.

MESTIZO DWELLING, FROM SARTORiUS, MEXICO ABOUT I85O

The Mestizo lives in general more simply than tl-re Creole; indeecl the majority have nearly the same mode of life as the Indians, but rvith some\{hat lnore comfbrt and convenience in their houses. \A/e cornmonlr'find, horvever, sirnpll' a bench and a table, and some board bedsteads covered with mats, and having a ferv sheep-skins for pillows and bolsters. One usually meets rvith a kitchen detachecl frorn the house, where the family take their three meals a da1,, in order that they,rnay have their rnaize bread warm from the fire. At meals the men sit upon lon stools and take the plate upon their knees; the rvornen sit upon mats. Knives and forks are not used. The food of the Mestizoes is distinguished from that of the Indians. bv consisting chiefly of rneat. The cooking is very greasy, and they eat in seneral much pork. On festive oc- casions there is a great slaughter of hens and turkies, for the Nlestizoes raise p<-rultry in abundance, and greatly enjoy eggs rvith their beans at breakfast; frtrits and con- fectionary are a necessity with them, and alier every meal a lurnp of sugar is eaten to prepare them for drinking copions draughts of rvater.

The manners of the rvhite Creoles have for the most part pirssed over to the Mestizoes; among the wealthier, one rvill hardly find a difference,'rvhile the poorer portion more nearly resemble the Indians in simplicity of lif'e and household arrangements. This lies in the nature of the case, since the Mestizo constitutes a col]- necting link berween the two dissimilar races, an organ throug4h rvliich the rvhite race gradually assimilates itself to the brorvn.

Carl Sartorius, l\lexiro Aboul 1850. (,\lexitt. Lunrl.vapt otl I'opulnr Sketrlrcs. 185..1) Reprint. Stuttgart: FA Brockharrs Konrm, 1961.

Couboy, calkd gattchos in Argentinn, Llrugutl, and Bntzil, llanetos in Venezuelu, ond aulltercs in fuIexico, tuuu to outsidet's tlte most colo{ul residents of tha ruuntryside. Chargtrl uith colkcting cattk in scrtrcely poltulated rcgiotts, ofi.en zuorking ati0not?tous$, thel uere legendarily inrlependent oJ spiit. I'hq uere, because of tlrcir.skill and noltili\ fthq coulcl lraue emplolm.ent in an instant on honeback) usually the highest paid rural uorket.s. Despite their rckiliueJieedotn and high pay thq led hatdscrabblz liues. 'thn^ had Jao posse.ssions antl lratteled light.

53

92 Chapter 6

The houses are bnilt of mud, and are roof-ed with the same. The walls are rvhite- rvashed, rvhich gir,es them a neat appearance, but the insides of the hor.rses, until they are rvhitervashed, look like an English barn. The rvalls are of course very soft; occa- sionally a large piece of them comes off , and thev are of that consistency that, in a very ferv moments, a person, either rvith a spade or a pickaxe, could cut his way through any rvall in the torvn. Several of the principal houses har,e glass in the rvin- dow sashes, but the greatest number have not. The hor.rses are almost all little shops, and the goods displal,ed are principall,v English cottons.

F'ratrcis Bond Head,./oia'n4r ,\cross lhe Pttnlrus and,\mon!! lhe,4ndr.s. Cartrondalc: Southern Illir-rois Univt:rsitl Press, 19ti7. Originallv publishecl in 1866.

THE WEALTHY CLASS Euen in the mid-nineteenth cenlur1 tltnv urov sharp controsts betueen rich and poor in the great cities. In thi.s excerpl Jron the trauel rnetttoir oJ German Carl Sa.rlorius, tuc encounter the Creoks of Mexico Cits.

LIFE IN TOWN, FROM SARTORIUS The creoles constitute the chief part of the population of the cities; they are govern- rnent officials, physicians, lauyers, merchants, manufacturers, mining-proprietors, and artif,icers. The great landed proprietors, the country traders, and the higher orders of the clergy also bek;ng to this class.

They are not distinguished by any national costume, but usuallywear the European dress. In the country,, onl1,, 16. roundjacket is still used i1 the house, ol'errvhich, rvhen in the open air, and especially rvhen they go to church, the Spanish cloth cloak, trimmed rvith lace, is throrvn. The short jacket is also lvorn on horseback. Poor and rich are much given to fine arrd clean linen. In their toilettes, the ladies are guided more by the Paris Journal des Modes' than the nren. The newest patterns in silk, \\'oolen and cotton-stuffs are seen sooner in Mexico than in Russia;

The female Creole, however, adheres to her- morning-dress for the church, which is alrvays black, lvith the graceful mantilla, trimmed rvith broad lace, attached to the back of the head and falling belorv the shoulders. In the countr).towns and villages they go also in colored dresses to church, but the silk rnantilla in invariably throrvn over the head. In the country too, the Lrncomfortable restraint of stays is less usual than in the large towns. Silk stockings and light silk shoes protect the Iittle foot; the hand is provided rvith a fan, rvhich is constantly in rnotion, and often serves to telegraph an interesting message across the street.

The wealthy Creole is a friend to luxury. he has shouy equipages, beautiful saddle-horses, nllmerous servants, but no comfort in his hotrse. In order to give an idea of the mode of living, I must describe the house itself.

Fronr the street \ve enter through a great gate, beneath the archrvay of which is the porter's loclge, or the counting-house of the proprietor. We then arrive at a square yard, surrotrnded on all sides by a piaz.za; in the middle is usualh' a fountain, with flower-vases. The rvide balustrade of the piazza is also mostly adorned rvith flowers. The

Cities in the Nineteenth Century

cloors of everv roorn open on this lbre-cotrrt. The chief apirrtrnent, the saloon, looks ()11 lhe street. altd is rnet rvith even in the r,illages, decorated rvith the best furniture, a looking-glass, comer-tzrbles with florrer-r'ases, the picture ol a saint in a silver niche, or something else ol the sort. One cnd of the saloon, the rvall here har.ing neither door nor r,vin<lorv, is the seat of the ladies (estraclo); it is frequently raised some inches, laid lr.itlr carpets ()r rnats, and fr"rrnished with lorv sofas. Numerous chairs are placed against the other rvalls. 'I'he saloon comnnnicates either directlv or through the corridor (piazta)'u,itl'r the ()ther rooms, r,iz., the bed-rootns (recameras), the dinning-room. the kitchcn etc. Opposite the entrarlcc, a smaller gate usuall)'condlrcts into the second vard, rvl-rich is surrotrnrlecl by the stable, coach-house, apartlnents for the men-sen'ants etc. Onestoried horrses are rnostly arranged in this rnanner; in large towrls, the houses ar-e gerrcralll,nvo-storicd, and fiequently there is an 'entresol'. In this case the ground- floor is tbr t'arel.rouses, shops, or servanls' rooms, u,hilst the family dlvell in the first lloor; the colonnzrde, horrever, is met rvith in the different stories, and the disposition of the apartnrents is in a great measure the satne.

\\Ie will ploceed to the house of a man, rvho has a tolerable income; there are rnan),better; brrt irlso many worse; and therefore I make choice of one of a middling description. 'flre floor ol the rvhole house is paved with flags, carefully ccmented. In the saloon ancl some of the rooms, the flags are painted so as to resemble lnosaic. The rvalls are unpaper-ed, plastered, ancl p:rinted rvith arabesques; the ceiling is the sarne. The nraster's sttrdy or office, on thc right, under the gatelval,, has a sufficiently' srnokl,apl)earallce, is ftrll of btrndles of deeds ol'acts (I believe he is a larlyer), n'hilst several clerks. rvith ver-v subaltern faces, and important office-frorvns, scribble arvay fbr theil lives. fl-re fiu'niture is extrernelv sirnple, of course; brrt the adjoining cabinet, u.here the licentiate (here called Doctor, the usual title of a larryer) himself rvorks, has a har-rdsorne rvriting-table, a glass-case rvith books, and a ferv arm-chairs.

Let us e nter the colonnade. The seat of honor is laid rvith fine mats, over which is a carpet, about fcrur feet rvide, before the sofa, which extends right across the up- per end of the oblonEJ apartment. Corner tables ofJapannecl pinc-wood are adorned rvith florver-r,ases. behind rvhich rve have here a 'mater dolorosa': there an infant Clrrist in glazed niches. A modern sofa starlds opposite the 'estrado'; several tables, turd a l'ew dozen chairs occupy the otller rvalls. The rvindorvs reach to the ground, but are protectecl fi'clm rvithotrt by iron bars, bent outrvards, so that we can look on the street rr'ithorrl incorrvenience.

In an arljoining boucloir is some ernbroidery; a prayer-book, and one of Eugcne Sue's romirnces; a sih,er brazier rvith burning coals, ancl a bundle of paper cig:rrs near it, indicate that the lady of the house is fond of'snroking her 'cigarrito'. A half-openecl cloor affords us a sight of the interior of a sleeping-apartmenu a large bed stancls against the rvall, the head and foot of the bedstead are rounded off, and exhibits in oval panels, Adam and Eve, and the Larrding of Noah's Ark, painted in oil. It seen.rs to be an inviting place of repose, *,ith a woolen damask cottnterpane, and pillorvs of embrt-ridered muslin. A somervhat stout seriora sits on the bed on a fringed tiger-skin, in the Turkish fashion (rvith her legs rloubled up under her), en- .jo1.ing a cup of'chocolate, rvhilst a maid is seated before her on the ground, holding a silver plate, rvith a glass of rvater on it. The good lady l'ras a cloth thrown over her head anrl shoulders; but the curious rvill not fail to remark that she rvears no cap

94 Chapter 6

(invariably the case with the Creole ladies), but tl.rat her hair hangs down her back. Her monring- go\vn too is not plaited, but l-rangs about her much like a sack.

Merry peals of latrgl'rter in the next roorn lead us to the preslrmption that the 1,oung people are there. Surc enough they are the daughters, bllt strange to say, not one has her dress closed; one has her arrns out ofthe sleeves even, which are tied round her rvaist, Iike a sash. Their plaitecl hair hangs down their back, the feet are encased in silk slippers, but the stocking are'rvanting. Of rvhat use u.or.rld they be in so mild a climate? The blue and'rvhite cotton wrappers are rvorn; but they conceal little. The young people gaily smoke their cigars, rvhilst one of them is seated on a mat on the ground, har.ing her long glossy hair combed by the rrraid. The room is not over tidy; the stocking lie about on the ground, on the bed irre silk dresses, rvhich are er,identll,for attending mass, on the cl-rairs are crapes, and other articles of dress. There is no chest of drawers visible, but several boxes, standing against the nall on rvooden tressles, replace the numeror,rs cup boards etc. The dressing-table is not nell supplied with brushes, soaps, essences etc., but l'ith a cornplete assortment of rings, eanings, bracelels, brooches, chains, and pins.

It is a duty, I o'rve to the ladies, to add a ferv words about the housekeeping of the Creoles. I have alreacll' rernarked, that they are not very early risers. About 8 o'clock a small cup of chocolate rvith srveet bread is taken. The family do not assemble fbr this refieshrnent, but cach person receives it in his bedroom. At 10 o'clock there is a hot breakfast of roast or stewed meat, eggs, and lvith all classes the never-failing dish of beans (Iiljoles), rvhich are first boiled soft, and then fried rvith fat and onions. At 3 o'clock in the after-noon dinner is served, rvhich has certain unvaryine dishes. First a cup of cleal broth, then 'sopa', of rice, paste, or some kind of bread-fruit, cooked in broth, till the fluid has completely evaporated, and highly seasoned rvith tomatas. The 'olla' is the third dish, and is met with on every table. It consists of beeI, mlltton, a little pork, ham, fowl, snrall sallsages, cabbage, French beans, parsnips, turnips, pear, banarra, onions, celery, a little coriander and parsley, all cooked together. The vegetables nre plzrced on the table apart from the meat, and each person helps hirnself accorrling to his taste. The 'olla' is follorved by some 'principios', mostly ragouts with strong-flavored broth of meat or fish; then comes a sweet dish, and finalll,some dried sweetmeats. Wine is rarely drunk at table: but the sweetmeats are sncceedecl by a large glass of nater.

Nlost Creoles allow themselves ir siesta after dinner. At 6 o'clock chocolate is dmnk, or in hot rveather, ice or fmit-jelly rvith \vater; a little walk, a ride or a drive is taken afterrvards, and it is then tirne firr the theatre and the 'tertullas'. The latter are the evening parties of the ladies, scntlernen being also fiequently present. The guests sit round the saloor-r, nhich is rvretchedlv illurninated u,ith two tallorv candles. Here they smoke and chat. Sotnctimes there is music, or even dance; refreshments are rarely'offered, trnless it be perhzrps a I'erv sweetmeats and rvater.

Supper is usually takcn about l0 o'clock, consisting of roast meat, salad, beans, and a srr.eet dish. hnrnediately after supper, the family goes to bed.

Invitations to dinner are seldom; if strange gentlemen only are invited, the ladies are freqrrently not pl'esent. The Mexican is hospitable, and it is a point of honor to entertain the guests rvell. The ntrnrber of guests at country festivities, which are not unlike the feasts of'the Hon.reric heroes, is often very great.

The ladies have thus I-ervcr household labors, and many of the present gener- ation devote the time to irnproving thernselves by reading. In company they are

Cities in rhe Nineteenth Cenrury

amiable and animated, and rvhatever European laclies nrav h:rr-e to object to, it is certair-r that the gentlerner-r rvho ar-e rnasters of tl'reir bearrtifirl languirge, rvill ir-rvari- ably find their socie$'attractive, and praise thcir channs.

It u,ould be rvronq to conch-rde tltese culson'glances at the lif'e of'tl-rc Creolcs, rvitl'rotrt alltrding to a pronrinent feattrre, n,hich cloes thenr much lronor. 'Ihis is the respect paid by the children to their parents. -l-he sons renrain under parental aulhoriry until they have reestzrblisherl a fiinrilt'ol their orvn. an<l evcrl zu.nong the laboring classes. the sor-r deposits his ezrmings iu tlre f,rther's hands, or at least rnakes no disposal of it, rvithout lris consent. A chilcl ncvcr ()utrirges his parcnts, or treilts thern lvith indifference; ar-rd this praiscu,orthv custom lras been acloptecl e'n'en b1,the Mestir-rs, being as strictly'obsen'ecl in the cottirgc as in the palace. From their ten- derest 1,outh uprvar-ds, the chilclren rvhen called bv tl'reir llurents, never ask: "What?" or, "\Vhat do you rvant?" l>ut alrvays: "What ilre yor-rr conrrnancls, Sil or Nla<lanr?" When they speak of their absent parerlts, tirei enrpiclv either the confldential: "rn1, papa, m,v mamal" or thev sar"'seflor p:rdre, sel-rorA rnaclre", or cven "Str \tlercerl" (his honor). The son never permits hirnself'to srnokc tobacco in thc plescnce of his father, not evcn rvhen full-gro\r'n. or nran-ied. fl.tc nrrithcr-, rvlro alrval's sits at honre rvith l'rer daughters, is rnore ir-rclulgent in tltis rcspcct. pcrllaps cven ellcoLll'ages thern to smoke: but in presence of their father, ther nevcr \'('l-ltrlre it. The son takes off his hat, when his father speaks rvith hirn; if seatt:d. he rises on eithel of his pzrrents entering the roorn, and ofl'ers his chair; l-re avrids ttrlrring his l>ack to thern, and does not even pass in front of them. if it be possiblc to l)irss iul' othcr rvar,. ancl u'heu corn- pelled to do so, he invariabh'says: "Pardon ntcl" or, "\{ith ),orlr permissi()n."

In Mexico there are no orphan-as1'lrrms. but thc orphans arc nevertheless pro- vided fbr. At the christenir.rg, the eocl-parents trn<lerlake to care for the chilcl. il'it shor,rld have the mislbrtune to lose its parellts. This is l)ot all ellptl, fonn as in Etrrope, btrt is literally observed. It is not lleccssilrv tbr the :rtrtholities to interf'ere in the matter; even the poor man fetches l.ris or'phan god-child. rls soon irs he learns the death of the parents, and brings hir.n up as a mcrubcr of his on'n {arnilr'. If the god- parellts are also dcad, there is invariably a clisl)ute l;elu'een seve ral families, as to u,ho is to receive the child. Ofte n hzrr.e I hearcl poor people say: "I irring up a dou. or some other anir-nal; should I not rather unclertake the carc of fellorv-crcattrre?"

This cornpassionate feature extends als<'r to thc' sufT'cring ancl ir-rdigent. In the war rvith North America, I sarv persons tencl and conceal their rvorrndcd enemies, in- ctrrring tl"rereby,great risk, ancl subseqtreutl),collvet' then'r back to their countr')'me11.

hr the course o{'three centuries, this has been <levelopecl ir-r a lranner pectrliar to the climate and soil, and the chzrracter ol thc Creole is no longer that of the Spaniard. A fertile country, producing abtrnclance :rhnost trnasked, a clear skl', a rnild clirnate, n'here the hardships of rvinter are rrnknol'rr, hitve spoilccl the (lreole and rendered him more indolent and thougl'rtless than his transmarine relations; but he has retained liveliness, the excitabilitl,, and the ronrantic sentiments of the latter. The Spaniard is essentially consen'ative, the llcxican Creolc is fbr progress; he is liberal and tolerant even in religious matters, rvhilst the Spaniard never quits the established forms in church and state. The Spar-riarcl labors perseveringlv, see ks also to proht in detail, an<l saves rvhat l-re hzrs czrnrecl lirr olcl ?rge; lhe llexican eams n.ith facilitl', btrtjust as easill, lets it slip thror-rsh his fingers; l-re seeks to enjo1, the lleetins mornent, and leaves Providence to care fi>r the Iuture.

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I could easily continue these parallels, but an allusion to them is suffrcient. Sep- arate pictures of popular life will best complete the universal lineaments, and ani- mate them with light and color.

Carl Sartorius, Mexiro Aboul 1850. (Mexico. Landscapr.s and Populttr Sketclus. 18ir8) Reprint. Stuttgart: FA Brockhaus Komrn, 1961.

RELIGION Various saints' days and otho religious holiday comprised mut:h of the enjoyment uorhing

Nteople driaed from their nerldq liues. Particular\ poignant uas the Llexican relationship with derilh..

THE DAY OF THE DEAD OR ALL SAINT'S DAY, FROM SARTORIUS

All Saint's Day is everywhere preceded byvast purchases. On this day a nerv dress mllst be had, new ribands and shoes; the women buy r-rew crockery of all kinds, fine, parti- colored mats, elegant little baskes of palm-leaves (tompiatl), and bright-colored schikales (the fruit of the rrescentia alata). But above all the purchase of rvax tapers causes much head-breaking in every house. For several rveeks beforehand great activity is observed amongst the retail dealers. Every shopkeeper endeavors to pro- cure wax at a reasonable figure, candle-makers work in his house preparing tapers of all sizes, and in the evening the whole family is occupied in ornamenting these tapers with strips of colored paper. There is no house, no cottage without some dollars' worth of tapers; the poorest laborer would rather go without bread, than rvithout wax; and the Indians devote the earnings of weeks to its purchase.

In the large cities this is less known; the higher classes as the),arc callecl, with- hold themselves as much as possible from plebeian habits, and we rnust wancler to the villages, if we desire to see this festival in its ancient form.

!\rhoever is fortunate enough to have a godfather among the Indians-and one can easily attain this good fortune-should visit his rornpadres (god-parents) on the first of November. The street in front of the house is swept very clean, and be- fore the door is a large cross covered with immortelles (tagetes). The Indian calls them sempasochil and always plants them near his cottage. The hotrse is in festive order, the old saints on the rvall are laden with flowers, a wreath of florvers is between them, and two tapers burn in clay candlesticks. No one is at horne, but close by, in the kitchen, we distinctly hear the thumping and shaping of the tortillas. Let us look through the doonvay into this sanctum of the women. Three stout lasses are prepar- ing tlre maize on stones, but our comadre (godrnother) stands there lvith a knife in her hand, happily, though, her victim is only a large turkey. Another, doomed to the same fate, is tied Lrp in a corner; and close by are at least six fat hens, all ready for the pot. "Who would be so cruel, comadrd', we exclaim, after saluting her: "what are you going to do with this mass of provision? Is one of the girls to be married?" The three look roguishly at each other and laugh. " Ojala", says the old rvornan chuckling,

Cities in the Nineteenth Century

"I should then be rid of one ofm),cares; btrt the fbrvls are fol the dead, and you rvill afterrvards do us the honor of trling the tlatonile."

Should the reader think of acceptirlg the invitation, we must warn him not to fill his mouth the pro{I'ered dish belbre trf ing it; this tkdonilelooks like a very inno- cent ragout, but burns like fire, being the genuine extract of unripe Spanish pepper, and none but mouths that are fire proof ma),\'enture on it. But rve mllst nor\. explain the meaning of the festival.

Neither the Indian nor the N'Iestizo knorvs the bitterness of'sorrorv: he does not fear death; the departure frorn life is not dreadful in his cyes, he does not crave for the goods he is leavins, and has no care for those nho sunive him, rvho have still fertile earth, arld the mild sky Is it indifference, is it frivolity u'hich a rich tropical nature be- stows on her childrer-r? I knorv not; brrt it is certain, that in the ey'es of the people, deatl"r does not appear as a black, dismal specter, that sorrou,{br the dead does not absorb all the joys of lile. The first outbreak of grief is violent, copious shorvers o{'tears are shed, but are soon dried. The Mexiczrn says: "God has lr.illed it, we must all die." Every Indian thinks thus. and regards it from the practical side. On the occasion of a death the relations and neighbors come and share in tl"re grief, especially throughout the night; when the body remains in the house. The tribute offered is a tapeq and some- thing to drink. Prayers are offered up fbr the repose of the deceased, and the night is then passed in social games and merrirnent in the same apartrnent \vhere the corpse lies on the floor surrounded rvith tapers. \Arhen death befalls a child under seven years (pantulosl, it is celebratecl as a clay of rejoicing, because the soul ascends direct to heaven, rvithout undergoing the trar.rsitory state of Purgatorl,. The little corpse is gaily decked with flowers and ribands, fastened to a board and placed upright in a corner of the cottage, in a sort of niche fornred of brzrnches and blclssoms, and lighted up rvith many tapers. On the approach of evening, a ferv rockeLs proclaim the velorio, music resounds, and the rvhole night is passed in dancing irnd merry-making. The god-par- ents of the children do r-rot zrltogether approve of it, as they have to pay the reckoning. At these rvakes the company remain assernbled till the morning (with children as u.ith adults), and then proceed immediately to the chr.rrchyard. The bier is quickly forrned of a f'erv sticks, a rnat sen'es for a coffin; i{ a priest is at hand, preceded by three cross- bearers he hastens to the spot, gives the benediction, and the body is lou,ered into the earth, to retrlrn to earth. Even'one present casts in a handful of dust, the grave is filled in, and the motrrners depart rvithout any extraordinary impression being prodlrced. If a mother is pitied frrr having lost her child, she replies: "I loved the little angel; but I am glad that he is happy, without having had to experience the bitterness of life."

Thus accr.rstomed to rnake light of that rvhich is inevitable, to dance about the yarvning gra\re, \\re shall not be sr.rrprised to find, that the rites in honor of the departed have rather ajoyous than a melancholy character. We repeat that only the Indian and the Mestizo obserre this ancient practice. rvhereas the rvhite Creole rarely irnitates the Indian custom.

In the Indian villages the proceedings are as follows. On the evening of the last day of October, the house is put in the best order. and u'hen it is dark, a new, parti-colored, \ro\en mat is spread out on the floor of the drvelling. The rvhole family are assembled in the kitchen, rvaiting for the rneal being prepared, rvhich consiss of chocolate, s$,eet maize porriclge, sterved chickens and little tortillas. A portion oI'each is put if possible into nerv vessels, and convey'ed bv the rnembers ol the farnil-v into the hottse, rvhere it is

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pl:rced on the rnat; to this is aclded a peculiar kind o1'rlaizc-breacl, callecl doll.ast?[,, ancl dcath-br-eacl, ir kind of rvheaten-bread uithout fat, sugar ancl salt, uhich is birked {br this clay onll', shaped like a rabbit, a bircl etc., and prcttily ornanrentecl. Or.r clal'candlesticks, correspondingn'ith the number of clishes, thir-r nax-tapers are lighted, not Inrrch thicker tlran a qtiill; r'oses, rnarisolds. and the blossoms of tl'rc r/rfrozr gtrtttdi.floruare laicl bctlveen the plates; and norv the head of the familv inritcs thc dearl chilclren, thirt is to say those of'his oun irnmediate hotrse (his orvr-r chilclren, grauclchil<lren, blothers anrl sisters) to come and rcgale themsclves n-ith the offerir.rg. Thc n'l-role farrrilt, nrxr returr) to the kitchen to consrune the rernainder of the meal, u'hich has been prepared abundantll' crrough to rt:sale also the liring. This is the off'erins of the childrer-r, ancl everv chilcl, according to the ase it had attained, h:r its dish anrl is taper. Saucers rvith incense are placecl nroturd the mat, and fill the char.nber rr.ith a rlensc clotrrl.

The fbllorving dav offcrir-rgs are preprlrcd for ti.rc adults in ir similar mannel; but all on zr larger scalc, frorn thc rnat to thc tapcrs. Other clishes, too, 2rre added, rvhich rvor-rltl be too hot for the children: turkey in recl-pepper broth, tamalcs, aucl other highlv seasoned dishes; tl'rere is moreover ir goocl supplv of drink in large rnugs, brand1,, pulque. castilc and other far,orite liqtrors of'the Indians. \\Iith the arlults less care is cxhil;itcd firr ador-ning the roonr n'ith florvers; but thir-rss are iidde<l rvhicl.r belonged to thc deceasecl: thcir sandals, their strau.hat, or the hatchet rvith rvhich thev u'orkecl. The rvhole hotrse is flllecl with irtcense, rvl.rich is placed bcfore the pictr-rre of the patron saints, \rho \r,ere ru-rcloubtcdl,v introducecl, threc centlrries ago, in place of the horrse idols.

The beliel that the souls of the departecl r.isit the plzrces that u,ere clear to thenr in lif'e, that thel,sometirnes flutter abor-rt tl'reir drveiling as bright htrnrrningJrirds, some- times float above their former horne as clouds, rvas doubtless hancled dorrn by thc Toitecs to tlle sllbsequent lords of the soil, namely' the Aztecs; and'rve rnal'assume that it still obtains amorls the people, zrlthotrgh rvc have never srrcceecled in eaining confir- rnation of the same fi'orn the lnouth of'an hrciian. Tircl' are r-eser.r.ed in er,erl.thing bearing re{'erencc to the religion of tl.reir fathers; perhaps, o\\.ing to their long subjec- tion, their traditions are Lrnconnected, and only,here and therc to bc recognizcci.

The meal dedicated to the manes of the departecl, is r.rot usualh' consunred lx, those rvl-ro offer it; but is sent to relations ancl ncighbors, fiom n'honr ir sirnilar do- nation is reservecl. In the rillages t,here there is a rnixed population, the voung f'el- Iorvs on the look out for fun, go to the chvellings ol the hrdiar-rs, and offer to tell tireir beads fbr the repose of {.he sonls. 'fhe1, are 'rtelcomed, ancl the offerings intended fbr the gl.rosts, are part devourecl by the living. They laugh ancl.jest at the silly Indians, u'ho prepare a rneal for those u'ho are long since dezrcl. "Do ),orl recollect, Felipe, horv u,e told our beads in old Mizcoatl's house, and harl nearly brrrst rr'ith larrghter rllren long Nicholas {ilclied a glass of srveet lirluor fi-or.n the of renta (death-rneal) ancl emptied it, irnd then made the old heatl.ren believe , the shadc ol'lris son l-rad drr.rnk it?"-"To be srire", returnecl the other; "br-rt last vcirr he rnanaged better, ancl u,oulrl not admit us until all the liquids had bcer-r placecl in sal'eq,. \{Ie macle up for it, horv- ever, bv carrf ing off a contribution from his fat hrrajolete (turker') , r'hich \ras not to be despised; and there rvas drink enongir at his neighbor's".

Talking in tl-ris \\,a\', the mischievor-rs rogues knockeci at the do()rs, and rnutterccl pra),ers, feasted at the expense of'tl-re h:rrmle ss superstition of'the yroor Indians, ancl in addition, carried a\\'a), a tolerable srrppll of boiled and roast. \\'e quit thenr, to clo

Cities in the Nineteenth Century

honor to the coma(lre's invitation. and are hospitablv entertained. \4/e there leamed that only rvhite rasouts \,vere cooked fbr the chilclren, rvhich are but moderately spiced, but still burn like a decoction of pepper; f urther tl-rat ferv families spend less than from six to ten dc-rllars for this I'east, and that it is their greatest delight to con- strrne all tl'reir favorite dishes on this clal'. The follorving da1', the church-festival of All Souls, mass is attended, and the \volnen light rvhole rorvs of little rvax tapers rvhich thel,stick on thc floor befbre them. Tl"ris is a han'est-day for the priests; for every Indian has a short pra),er said for thc souls of his departed aftel divine sen,ice, for rvl.rich he has to clepose tu'o reals (about one shilling) on the altar.

In the evening the u'omen ancl chilclren proceed to the cenreter)', strerv the graves nith flon'ers, sprinkle ther-r-r u'ith hoh+vater, burn incense, and light innumer- able t:rpers, rvhich are suflered to burn until thel' go olrt of therlselves. In the clear, beautiful Nor,enrber nights, thesc grave illtrminations afford a magical appearance, rvhen the tapers light Llp the dark cl,presses or orange-trees of the cemeter)r, and the gloorny rvalls of the chapel. All is hushecl; no sotrnd is ireard near the abodes of the dead sa\,e the chirp of grasshoppers, likc the breath o1'natttre: rvhilst the expiring flarne of the tapers lemincls us of the soul qnittir-rg its fi-ail earthh' tcnernent.

(.allS:rrtorirrs, ]lritt,lbotrt l,\50.(,\lcxito. I.attdvaln'.sanrl Pulular.\kclrhc:. l8irtl) Rcprint.Stuttgart: FA Brockhaus Komrn, l{)til.

CORPUS CHRISTI

RELIGIOUS FESTIVAL, C S STEWART, THE PERSONAL RECORD OF A CRU/SE

June 26th- It is to the Roman Chtrrch that rve zrre here chiefly indebted fcrr everl' thing in the rvay of spectacle. T\vo principal feast da1,s have occttrred rvithin the rteek pasr: rhat o1'Corpus Christi on the 19th, and that of St. John thc Baptist on the 24th inst. The f6te of Corpus Christi rvas obsen'ed rvith great displal'. It rvas instituted b1' Urban r\i., six hur.rdred ,vears aso, in l'ronor of the t]-rer-r nerlll' adopted doctrine of transubstantiation, and consequent adoration of the l-rost. Its legendary origin is tracecl to.|uliar-ra, a nun of'Licge, rvho, rvhilc looking at the ftrll moon, sau'a gap in its orb, and bv peculinr levelirtior-r fl'om heaven, Iearned that the nlooll represented the Clhristian Church, and thc gap the nant of a fcstival fbr the adoration of the bodl' of Christ, in the consecrated rvaf'er. This she rv:rs to begin to celebrate. and to anltollltce ro rhe u'orld. The authorization of the festival by papal bull, rvas indr.rced b1'the fol- lorving rniraculous incident. \{'hile a priest, rvho did not believe in the change of'the bread ir-rto the body of Christ. \vas goins thror,rgh the cerernotl'of benediction, drops of blood fell upon his surplice, rvhich, he endcavorecl to conceal them in the folcls of' his garment, were formed into blood,v images ol'the host. His skepticism 'lvas thrts overconte; and the bull of Urban, arithorizing the adoratir)n, \\'as ptrblished. This occtrrrecl in 1264, and thc blooc\,strrplice is still shorvn at Civitzr\/eccl-ria as a relicl

In Rio deJaneiro, as in all papal countries, Corptrs Christi is a chief'festival in the r,ear. Its celebration \vas cornnrenced at the darvn of day, by a gent:ral peal of the ltells from cr,ert cl'mrch and convent tower, by the booming of caunon along the

99