Chapter X: Clubs and Social Life

Mexico, with majestic and snow-capped mountains, opens to the view of the traveller who has hitherto followed the beaten paths a rich mine of unexpected delight. A wonderful country where nature has been so lavish that she causes to grow upon its surface a vegetation so varied that it includes every plant of tropical lands, together with the sturdy firs of the farthest north. Some strange magic seems to hold one within its gates: the dreamy poetic strain of old Spain whose traditions still tinge the country with the romance of the Cid, Manriques lays and the last of the Moors. Echoes of the Alhambra still linger in the graceful Moorish arches of the public buildings, while the gardens of King Boabdil live again in the beautiful alamedas with their stately trees, luxuriant vegetation, gorgeous flowers, graceful monuments and cool and shady walks. In every city of any size is the alameda, a meeting place for the people. The one in Mexico is especially artistic in arrangement by the profusion and beauty of its flowers. Side by side with the pushing needs of civilization and progress are to be seen evidence of the artist’s instinct, which finds expression in splendid forms of architecture, not of the solid unsightly blocks of stone which so disfigure our large American cities. The progress of Mexico has been wonderful in the last fifteen years.

The social distinction of the city is prominently marked by its magnificent clubs. The principal of these is the Jockey Club, whose sumptuous home is in “The House of Tiles,” on San Francisco Street. The building is one of the finest in the capital; it was built early in the eighteenth century and was formerly the palace of the Conde del Valle de Orizaba. Its massive form in Moorish style and Venetian ornamentation gives it a character wholly individual and irresistibly attractive. The façade is entirely finished with white and blue tiles, hence the familiar name of the building. The building is entered by a richly carved portal of massive proportions; the great doors of cedar are ornamented with unique copper ornaments. As the great _patios_ are reached their ample stretch suggests that one is in the precincts of a vast deserted Andalusian palace. In the court-way stands a memorial of the days of the founder of the palace, a fountain of marvellous beauty, delicately and gracefully chiseled in the best style of that day.

The first floor is carried on richly decorated cylindrical columns. At the left is the library, an exquisitely adorned apartment with every appointment that luxury can suggest for such a room and a special literature befitting the establishment, complete in every respect.

As little change as possible has been made in the structural character of the old Count’s palace. On the grand stairway, the great lamp with its alabaster globes casts its soft light on the old walls, just as it did when the assassin struck down the original owner. Splendid Venetian mirrors reflect the beauties of decoration and deep set windows of octagonal shape with their oddly designed panes of richly stained glass serve to add decorative strength and to heighten the effect of the curious ceiling tiled with alternate rows of porcelain and cedar.

The corridor on the main floor is also a masterpiece of tile work, like the façade, in white and blue. A striking feature of this corridor is the railing of _tumbago_, a bronze composite brought by Spain’s galleons from China, which is splendidly wrought and is of great value. Of the same metal are the club’s balconies facing San Francisco Street and Callejon Condesa. In the main floor corridor and on the landing of the grand staircase still remain the graved coat-of-arms of Del Valle, and everywhere white and blue tiles, costly as silver, and unmarred by the touch of centuries; a bit of old time splendor preciously cherished both as being old and as reminders of the high proficiency of the art of earlier days.

On the main floor is the little-changed chapel of the Conde del Valle which was once the depository of the sacred relics and art treasures of his family, but is now devoted to games of _tresillo_. Here still is the richly carved quaint cedar portal and the fine sculptured arch of the former oratory.

The history of the famous club begins with 1881, and its founding is due to the late General Pedro Rincon Gallardo and Señor Francisco Somera, who obtained the co-operation of the municipal council. On June 8, 1881, the first president, Señor Somera, was elected. The second was Señor Manuel Romero Rubio. At his death in 1895, General Gallardo succeeded. Señor Yves Limantour is now the president and Señor Sebastian Camacho, the vice-president.

The club membership is extremely exclusive; there are but a few foreign members and introductions are very limited.

The University Club is most comfortably housed in Calle Bucareli. Occasional introductions are permitted by members, and entertainment is accorded as guests to visiting university men on the request of members.

The Country Club is near Tacubaya, in one of the finest club buildings in America, being of Spanish mission style. Its hospitality is generously extended to non-residents of the Federal district. Visitors may be introduced in person, and two weeks’ privileges are granted on request of members. It has a splendid tennis court and a fine golf link. The dining room is finished in Old Flemish. This is the favorite meeting place of distinguished Americans.

The home of the British Club in San Francisco Street is handsomely appointed, and in great favor. The membership is, of course, chiefly British, with a few colonists from other places and a sprinkling of Mexicans. Visitors are entertained for two weeks on request of members.

The French Clubs, the Cercle François and the University Club, are both noted for their attractions.

The American Club on Calle Independencia is the chief social foyer of the leading American residents in the capital. The provision made for accommodation of members and guests, though extensive, is often taxed to its capacity. The privilege of guests of the Club is accorded on request to members for the accommodation of their visiting friends.

The German Club has a fine new building and a splendid gymnasium.

The Casino Espanol Club is domiciled in a mansion, and has a membership of eight hundred. This Club is famous for its magnificent balls. During the Centennial it gave many _fiestas_ of note. Señor Sanchez y Ramos, a son-in-law of Benito Juarez, is the distinguished president.

The Diplomatic Corps, which is quite large, is an important element in the social life of the Capital, and is composed of many distinguished representatives. The Spanish, the French and the Japanese are among the best entertainers. The British government is represented by His Excellency, the Honorable Reginald T. Tower. Soon after his arrival in Mexico, he presented General Diaz with the Grand Cross of the Bath, which was conferred on the President by His Majesty, King Edward.

The American Colony in the City of Mexico is composed of many distinguished representatives. Their social life, while in a measure confined to themselves, is delightful. The American Ambassador, Honorable Henry Lane Wilson, and his charming wife have endeared themselves to everyone. Honorable Arnold Shanklin is the United States Consul General. He is a popular favorite and has won many friends and admirers in Mexico.

The Christmas customs of Mexico are uncommonly pretty and touching. The Christmas-tree is not a native institution, though it gives indications of becoming naturalized. In its stead the Mexican children have what they call a pinata, which affords them just as much fun. The pinata is a large earthenware jar, which is covered with colored tissue-paper. This jar is filled with all sorts of dainties dear to children and is hung up in the corridor or courtyard of the house. Each of the children is blind-folded in turn, and, after being turned around once or twice, has a stick placed in his or her hand and is invited to break the pinata. The wielder of the stick is generally, after being turned around, quite out of his bearings, and often brings down it within an inch of the head of one of the party. He is allowed three trials, and if not successful the handkerchief is removed and another takes his turn. At length a crash is heard--some one has made a true hit--the pinata is broken and the good things fall in a shower to the ground.

The posadas are a characteristically Mexican celebration. They commemorate the journey of Mary and Joseph from Nazareth to Bethlehem. This journey, performed by Mary mounted on an ass, which Joseph guided, is supposed to have occupied nine days. Each evening they naturally approached some dwelling to beg a night’s shelter. It is this nightly episode that is commemorated in Mexican houses by the posadas, or the begging of the posada (_pedir posada_), meaning shelter, lodging, or entertainment. In the patriarchal days of the viceroys the posada was a strictly religious custom, and in a few old-fashioned families it is so still. The ninth night of the posadas--that is, Christmas Eve--is celebrated on the most extensive and luxurious scale of all, and generally the wealthiest of the families that have clubbed together gives the entertainment. In memory of the night when the Saviour was born, the figure of an infant is carried in procession, and is placed in a manger between the ox and the ass in a prettily adorned cave, which is intended to represent the stable where Mary and Joseph took refuge when they found that there was no room for them in the inns.

The feast day celebrated by the Catholic Church on November 1st, is called All Saints’, and ranks as one of the most solemn of the year. It was instituted at an early period in the history of the Church as a means of doing honor to the many saints to whom it was impossible to assign a separate feast. The feast which follows on November 2d, is popularly known as All Souls’, and is the day for the commemoration of the faithful departed. On this day masses are said and special prayers offered by Catholics for the release of souls from purgatory. The priests wear black vestments, and in some of the churches a huge catafalque is erected in the centre of the nave.

The origin of the feast of All Souls’ dates back to the year 827 A.D., when Amalario, the Deacon of Metz, published the office for the dead, but it was not until 998 A.D., that St. Odillon, abbot of Cluny, instituted in his churches this feast in commemoration of the faithful deceased. This feast soon prevailed in the Catholic Church. It took a rather wider range in France in the eighteenth century, when the laborers began to dedicate gratuitous work, for the benefit of the poor of All Souls’ day, and offered to the Church wheat, which, according to the Pauline designation, is the symbol of resurrection.

The idea of these November feasts is not original with Mexico; it has found root in nearly every religion.

The feasts of All Saints’ and All Souls’ although not celebrated with the _éclat_ of former years, are still very interesting in certain portions of the republic, especially along the Gulf coast. There the Indians are in the habit of placing upon the graves dulces, or sweetmeats, prepared with _chilacayote_ and _calabazas_. The Indians place these dulces with large jars of water upon the tombs of their deceased relatives and friends during the afternoon of November 1st, so that the dead--that night at least--can have something to eat and drink. This latter arrangement is similar to some of the customs of Germany and Central Europe.

The “ofrenda,” or offering, is, singular to say, of Aztec origin. The Aztecs were in the habit of cremating their dead; and they kept the ashes in an urn with fragments of precious metals, emeralds, etc., also putting in food and catlis, together with bows and arrows and a quantity of a great golden-hearted flower called the _zempoalzoichitl_, which can be found growing in Mexico profusely at this day. This flower is used to decorate the sepulchres in company with white roses, the ruby “_flor de noche buena_,” and velvety forget-me-nots, as well as violets, geraniums, and marguerites. In the country districts the ofrenda is much more elaborate than in the city. Candles are also used by thousands in the little _panteons_ or cemeteries of the country. Among the simple folk in these Indian villages the local poets write up more or less readable “poetry,” which is also included in the offering to the dead. In some isolated portions of Mexico this custom prevails to such an extent that the children beg money from their parents to buy fruit for that purpose, or else, they say, the departed will come on Halloween and pull their little feet. It is impossible to give an idea of all the curious customs and incidents that prevail in the rural districts of Mexico with respect to the observance of these holidays. Halloween in Mexico does not partake of the mischievous and jocose character of the day in the United States and England.

Among the characteristic sights of these days peculiar to Mexico are the strange toys sold on the streets and in stalls. They consist of skull and crossbones of sugar adorned with gold leaf, lath coffins surrounded with priests and acolytes and containing a skeleton, miniature catafalques, altars, etc. Many of the coffins are so arranged that by pulling a string the lid opens and the dead man sits up. No Mexican child is content without one of these toys. The mozos and domestic servants also look at this time for their festival, to which they give the name of _calavera_ (skull). It is a carnival of death; a mingling of levity with sadness.

It is the custom to visit on All Souls’ day the graves of relatives and friends, to place wreaths and candles round about, and to offer prayers. Any one of Mexico’s cemeteries offers an interesting scene on that day. The French cemetery, where many of Mexico’s wealthiest families have their vaults, is one mass of beautiful wreaths. The tomb of Juarez, in the San Fernando cemetery, receives many mementoes from admirers of the great Liberal statesman. The cemetery of Tepeyac, near Guadalupe, where lie the remains of Santa Anna and members of many of Mexico’s first families, is visited by a throng of devout mourners bearing costly wreaths. The abundance of trees which darkens the English cemetery even at mid-day makes it eminently harmonious with the tendency to sober meditation. This cemetery contains the tombs of the first Englishmen, almost the first foreigners, that ever came to this country, away back in the twenties. The American cemetery is near the English. There is a monument to the American soldiers who perished in the Valley of Mexico in 1847. This receives its floral offerings on Decoration Day. But if the tourist or resident wishes to see a characteristically Mexican celebration of All Souls’, he should go to the great Dolores cemetery. Except on very few tombs, he will find no French creations in the way of wreaths, but an abundance of flowers.

Out beyond the southwestern limits of the city, on the boundary line formed by what is known as the Calzada de la Verónica, is the little patch of ground which possesses such peculiar interest for Americans, and especially for those who reside in Mexico. Though on Mexican soil, it is American in the fullest sense of the word, for the full and perfect title therein is vested in the United States, and its management and control are in the hands of the War Department at Washington. Mexico is the only country on earth where the United States possesses a title to land for such purposes, and exercises authority over foreign soil. It was in 1873 that the cemetery was subjected to the rules and regulations affecting United States national cemeteries. It was established in 1851, under an act of Congress approved September 28, 1850.

The seven hundred and fifty soldiers who were killed on the plains of Mexico are buried together in a single grave. In memory of these, a simple granite shaft about six feet high has been raised.

To obtain the right to bury there it is necessary to secure a permit from the United States consul-general, the permit being a voucher for the citizenship of the deceased. In addition to this, another permit has to be obtained from the civil authorities, which is a mere formality, as Americans, living or dead, have always received magnanimous treatment and the kindest consideration from district authorities as well as from those of the general government. No graves are sold, and the selection of the last resting place lies with the superintendent. No charge is made and no expense incurred. The United States government pays the employees and superintendent out of the annual appropriation and the friends of the deceased are at liberty to express affection by the adornment of the graves with monuments and flowers.

The funeral customs of Mexico are a source of constant interest to strangers in that land, as the burial of the dead is a ceremony of great display. The poor rent handsome coffins, which they have not the means to buy, and transfer the body from its temporary casket to a cheap box before it is laid in the grave. Invitations are issued by messenger, and advertisements of funerals are published in the newspapers or posted at the street corners, like those of a bull-fight or a play. Announcements in faultless Spanish are sent to friends in big black-bordered envelopes, and are usually decorated with a picture of a tomb.

There is a very pretty custom in Mexico by which all people who call upon a mourning family must dress in deep black. This is but one of the many pleasant ways the Mexicans have of paying honor to the memory of their beloved dead.

During the month of November, in every village of Spain and her former colonies, the traditional legend of Don Juan Tenorio, dramatized by Don José Zorrilla, is put on the stage. The sentimentality of this piece seems to have an irresistible fascination for Spanish taste. It is impossible to understand the Spanish character without having read or heard of this extraordinary play. It has been said that every youth of Spanish descent would be a Don Juan, and every Spanish maiden a Doña Ines. The exploits of Juan in a more prosaic age and country would inevitably have qualified him for the gallows. The drama of Don Juan is now, however, _color azul_ and is not attended by the _beau monde_.

The Indians observe a _fiesta_ on the 21st of August in memory of the tortures to which Cuauhtemoc and his cousin Tlacopan, Prince of Tezcoco, were subjected by Cortés, who endeavored to force from Cuauhtemoc the secret of the hidden treasure. The monument dedicated to Cuauhtemoc on the Paseo has a relief representing Cuauhtemoc and Tlacopan standing upon stone slabs, with their feet hanging over flames of fire. Around the tortured warriors are clustered the Spaniards, anxiously awaiting the secret which Cuauhtemoc never disclosed. “Do not be weary,” he said to his tormentors; “he who has resisted famine, death, and the wrath of the gods is not capable of humiliating himself now like a weak woman; the treasury of the kings of Mexico I submerged in the lake four days before the siege of the city, and you will never find it.”

One of the Easter customs is the hanging in effigy of Judas Iscariot, which is done everywhere in the country, from the plazas of the large cities down to the smallest hamlet. The Catholic citizens attire themselves in deep mourning throughout all of Holy Week, and on Saturday grotesque figures of him who betrayed his Lord are brought out everywhere and hanged. After this they are burned with all the contempt due to the betrayer of his Master.

Mexican women of the better class are noted for their beauty; and everywhere the young girls are exquisitely pretty. The slender oval of the face, the rich olive of the cheek, the long, sweeping, dark lashes over superb eyes, glowing at once with passion and tenderness, the low forehead with its rippling mass of dusky hair, the slender neck, the lithe form, the springing step, and the dainty foot make them like a poet’s dream of darkly brilliant loveliness, and not to be measured by any other type in the world.

Among the upper classes of Mexico will be found as high a degree of social and intellectual refinement as exists in Paris; as quick a reception and as cordial a knowledge of the arts and literature as people of the busy cities of the United States have acquired. Their wealth is lavishly displayed; their taste is exercised to a degree equal to that of any other people in the world; and the interior of many of their dwellings furnishes a glimpse of happiness and cultured elegance that, with their less active temperament, they enjoy more than do their northern neighbors. Yet these people, who receive the latest Paris fashions and literature by every steamer, still cling to some ancient customs. Social law restricts intercourse between the sexes, as in the Latin nations of Europe. The people are noted for their good manners, their politeness, and their courtesy to strangers. They make excellent hosts, and they throw their houses open to their guests with the most hearty generosity.

Such are some of the aspects of life in Mexico. Wander forth in the morning almost any day in the year and you will find the blue sky a free expanse above, with the foliage lazily swaying against it; birds--yellow, or black with orange and crimson spots--singing or chattering in wild freedom. There is a glimpse of water, into which the sun drops beams through the foliage. Plants and trees of all sorts break the scene into fascinating patterns. Flowers in bloom beautify and scent the dream.

Or it is evening, and electric lights cast a half shadow silent as a tomb: the trees and flowers and birds sleep, a mysterious quiet and suggestion of luxuriant foliage that appeals to one in a certain mood; but all is gay about. Then the old moon swings up from behind the ragged wall, between the heavy arches of trees, and the scene that you thought perfect is enhanced. The moon grows bigger and the scene lighter, and this, you remember, is but one day in beautiful Mexico.

Everywhere the people are cheerful and simple in their ways of living. They all attend church, and are devotional in habit. Doubtless more prayers are said in Mexico in a single day than in all the United States together; and yet some people in the latter country want to send missionaries to Mexico!

In several different places including Guanajuato, Mexico has a display of comparatively modern mummies and catacombs. The practice prevails, as in some European cities, of renting tomb space for the use of a corpse. In Mexico, if at the expiration of the original term there is no renewal of the lease, the corpse is dumped into an extensive underground chamber. If in the dry air the evicted mummifies, he stands against the wall; if he tumbles to pieces, his bones join the vast miscellaneous heap. The Guanajuato catacomb is ghastly enough to satisfy the most exacting connoisseur of the gruesome and bloodthirsty. In some of the mummies which have recently been examined jade teeth have been found, which is thought to be a proof that the Aztec princes used to be supplied by their dentists with handsome jade teeth whenever their own pearly ones failed.

Then there are street scenes of a strange and foreign aspect, such as black street car hearses. There are also curious street signs, rude but vigorous and highly colored pictures depicting scenes suggestive of the business conducted within, and in appropriate names in staring letters as trade-marks, so to speak, of the different stores. Imagine, for instance, “The Last Days of Pompeii” as a business sign, of “The Sacred Heart of Jesus,” which is the name of a score of establishments, and names of streets--“Crown of Thorns Street,” “Fifth of May Street,” “Holy Ghost Street,” “Blood of Christ Street,” “Body of Christ Street,” “Mother of Sorrows Street,” “Street of the Sacred Heart,” “The Heart of Jesus Street,” “Street of the Love of God,” “Jesus Street,” and “John the Baptist Street.”

Other governments might well take pattern from the Mexican parliament. No other government in the world has one like it in point of courtesy and dignity. The Mexican legislature holds its sessions in the evenings. The seats of the members are arranged in semicircular rows, and the presiding officer and officials of the house sit upon a large dais, or platform. At each side of the platform is a sort of pulpit, from which very formal addresses are delivered; but unpretentious discussions taking a conversational and unimpassioned form are conducted on the floor of the chamber. The orchestra and the galleries are divided into boxes, which are reserved for spectators; but it is only a rare occasion that brings outsiders to listen to the deliberations of their lawmakers. There is much etiquette in the parliament: members appear in evening dress; there is no confusion; there is seldom any rude or improper language like that which so often disgraces other deliberative assemblies. Speakers are courteous, even-tempered, and apparently conscious of the dignity of their position. Extreme dignity and decorum mark the proceedings, which are always short and practical. The legislature meets twice in each year, in the spring and in the fall. The House of Representatives has one member for every forty thousand inhabitants, and the Senate has one Senator for each state in the republic.

Mexico was christened by the conquerors “New Spain,” and to this day it has many Spanish characteristics. The City of Mexico is as large as Madrid or Barcelona, and far surpasses both in novelty and interest. Outside of its wonderful picture gallery, the finest in the world, Madrid is only an imitation Paris, while Barcelona is a bright, attractive modern business city. Mexico is all these, and in addition, interests with Oriental scenes and suggestions. It has many of the sight-seeing attractions of Madrid, Barcelona, and gay Seville, with touches of scenes from the streets of Cairo. Guadalajara and Puebla are nearer the size of Seville, and each has manifold attractions. Guanajuato is the Mexican reminder of Toledo and Granada, perched on the rocky hillsides, terraced, quaint and picturesque. You hear the same language spoken as in Spain; in both countries you pay separately for each act at a theatrical performance; while in no other country except old Spain is the bull-fight so popular an institution.

And, after all, bull-fighting seems more or less appropriate to the peculiar civilization of Mexico. The picturesque setting that is given there calls up vaguely the bouts in the amphitheatre in the days of Roman glory.

The new bull ring in Calle Oaxaca, with a seating capacity of twenty thousand was during the Centennial a scene of wonderful animation when a corrida de luxo was offered by the government to the visiting ambassadors.

Among the higher classes, social life in the republic is most charming. While there is great ceremony and conventionality, refinement, culture, unfailing courtesy, and delicate gallantry prevail. The scholar, the artist, and the _litterateur_ may all find congenial society. Hospitality is as generous as it is proverbial. One has only to be properly introduced to be the recipient of lavish attentions. Often gifts of flowers, birds, curios, and even valuable relics are offered with princely generosity.