But it would not be just to proclaim that life under Spain's rule was hard or oppressive, or marked by continued ferocity and bloodshed. The Mexicans lived in relative comfort and even luxury, and amassed wealth. Enormous fortunes were made in the mines, and titles of nobility were constantly granted from Spain to fortunate mine-owners who, by means of suddenly-acquired wealth, were enabled to render services to the Crown. Nor can the abuses of the natives be cast at Spain's door altogether. The colonists of Mexico, like those of Peru or, indeed, of any of the communities of the New World themselves, were the greatest oppressors of the natives in extortion, confiscation, forced labour, and the like, and it was the "interference" of the Imperial authorities, viceroy or Archbishop, against the oppression of the encomiendas, which, even in early days, often gave rise to discontent. The sovereigns of Spain enacted laws for the protection of the natives, in many cases, and strove to better their position. Indeed, it may be said that, to the present day, the regulation of affairs between colonists and natives—whether in America, Asia, or Africa—requires the justice of an imperial home Government, however far off from the scene of its "interference." Independence in America, whether in the United States or in the Spanish States, did not necessarily spell liberty, toleration, and brotherhood, whether in civil or religious matters.

From Spain's unlawful king—the brother of Napoleon—or, rather, from the various juntas or bodies formed in Spain to oppose the French domination, came claims for jurisdiction over Mexico, causing confusion in the minds of the colonists, which culminated in the conspiracies of Queretero and Hidalgo's cry, and the proclamation of Independence on September 15, 1810. Under Hidalgo an insurgent band seized various places in the central part of the country, including the great silver-producing town and mines of Guanajuato, where, unfortunately, these first exponents of liberty committed serious excesses. Thence, taking the capital of the State of Michoacan—Morelia—they advanced upon the city of Mexico. They engaged and defeated the royalist forces which had been sent against them by the viceroy Venegas, who had succeeded the Audiencia and the deported Iturrigaray, at Monte de las Cruces, some twenty miles from the capital, after a well-contested battle. To the generalship of Allende was mainly due this great victory, and had Hidalgo followed it up by an attack upon the capital city, subsequent operations might have been favourable to the insurgents. As it was, the royalists under Calleja attacked and captured Guanajuato, taking a terrible revenge upon its people—ruthless cruelties such as, perpetrated by both sides in these struggles, have repeatedly written the history of Mexico's revolution in blood. Finally Hidalgo and his associates, at Guadalajara and elsewhere, were after valiant fighting, discomfited entirely; disaster overtook them, and the warrior-priest, with Allende, Aldama, and Jimenez—valiant generals all—was shot at Chihuahua in July, 1811. There, in the small chapel of San Francisco, his decapitated body was laid, and afterwards removed to Mexico.

Was the spark of liberty extinguished by these reverses? The answer was furnished by yet another militant ecclesiastic—the famous Morelos of Michoacan. Stoutly did he and his insurgents maintain the city of Cuantla against the royalist forces under Calleja, until famine compelled them to evacuate the place under cover of darkness. The defence of Cuantla has covered the name of Morelos with glory in his country's history, and at the time it was watched even from Europe with interest, by the eagle eye of the great Wellington. This remarkable soldier-priest captured various important places—Orizaba, Oaxaca, and Acapulco, and established the first Mexican Congress at the town of Chilpancingo, in the State of Guerrero, in September, 1813. But the star of Mexico's national independence had yet to reach its zenith. Disaster overtook the insurgent forces; all fortune abandoned them and Morelos was captured, court-martialled, judged by the Inquisition, and shot, in December, 1815.

The tyranny of Ferdinand VII. of Spain gave birth to yet another scourge for Spanish rule in Mexico. Mina was a Spaniard, a celebrated guerilla chief in the mountains of Navarre, where he waged war against Napoleon and the French, and that casus belli being terminated, strove to raise a revolution against the Spanish sovereign at Madrid. Frustrated there he fled to London, and Mexican refugees in that city—among them the padre Mier—enlisted his sympathy for Mexican independence; and, having obtained adherents both in England and the United States, Mier landed on the Mexican shores of Tamaulipas and won a series of brilliant victories with his small force against the Spanish royalists. But again history records, as it has ever recorded in the story of freedom throughout the world, that baptism of failure which must ever precede success; and this young adventurer for Mexico's independence—he was but twenty-eight—suffered disaster, was captured, and shot in November, 1817.

Thus it was that the heroic efforts of all these who had given their lives for the political dream of an independent Mexico laid them down—not fruitlessly—upon the morning of its consummation. To the credit of the Church it is that the spirit of freedom first took material form in men nourished in the shadow of the aisles. In Mexico's history eternal laurels have crowned the brows of Hidalgo and Morelos; their names are perpetuated in the great tracts of land which bear them, and their memory is indelibly enshrined in their countrymen's hearts. At this period the feathers of Spain's colonial wing were being plucked one by one. In all the countries of Latin America the irresistible spirit of change, development, and independence was sweeping over the New World, bred of the world-march of new thought which the French Revolution had set in motion. The great nineteenth century had dawned, and the effects of the convulsions of social life had been felt, and had furnished springs of action even in remote towns of the South American Andes and of the Mexican plateau. Caracas and Chile in 1810, Buenos Ayres in 1813, Mexico in 1821, Peru in 1824—all showed that the hour of destiny had arrived and that new nations were being launched upon the world.



CHAPTER VII THE EVOLUTION OF MODERN MEXICO

Monarchical regime of Iturbide—Great area of Mexican Empire—Santa Anna—The Holy Alliance—Execution of Iturbide—The Monroe Doctrine— British friendship—The United States—Masonic institutions—Political parties—Expulsion of Spaniards—Revolution and crime—Clerical antagonism—Foreign complications—The "pie-war"—The Texan war—The slavery question—Mexican valour—American invasion of Mexico—Fall of Mexico—Treaty of Guadalupe—Cession of California—Gold in California—Benito Juarez appears—Conservatives and Liberals—Massacre of Tacubaya—The Reform laws—Disestablishment of the Church—Dishonest Mexican finance—Advent of Maximilian—The English, Spanish, and French expedition—Perfidy of the French—Capture of Mexico City by the French—Crowning of Maximilian—Porfirio Diaz—Rule of Maximilian—Fall of his empire—Death of Maximilian—The tragedy of Queretaro—Diaz takes Mexico City—Presidency of Juarez—Lerdo—Career and character of Diaz—First railways built—Successful administration of Diaz— Political stability—Forward policy.

Mexico began her independent history with a monarch, a prominent figure which now stands forth in the history of the country, Iturbide—royalist, soldier-general, candidate for viceroy, insurgent chief, and Emperor by turns. Despatched at the head of the Spanish Royalist army from the capital to crush the insurgent forces under Guerrero, who maintained defiance in the south, Iturbide, after conference with the enemy, announced to his officers and army that he espoused and would support the cause of independence. Whether this was a result of conviction of its justice, or whether it obeyed dictates of personal ambition to whose success a surer road seemed to open by his defection, remained best known to himself; but, be it as it were, his eloquence and enthusiasm inspired all who lent ear to him.

Events followed rapidly. The "plan of Iguala," a document proclaiming the independence of Mexico, with a suggestion of royal rule, was drawn up and promulgated on March 2, 1821, and the change of side by its author, Iturbide, called many other persons to the insurgent cause, and city after city fell to their arms or capitulated at their advance. At the moment the last Spanish Viceroy, Don Juan O'Donoju, was landing at Vera Cruz, but, sagely taking in the situation, he saw that Mexico was lost for Spain, proposed a conference, accepted the plan of Iguala, joined forces with Iturbide, and, all obstacles having been overcome, the insurgent army made its way to the capital, entering it, with Iturbide at its head, on September 27, 1821. The triumph of the independent cause was assured and the birth of the new Empire of Mexico was heralded at that moment.

The geographical extent of Mexico at that date was very considerable. It embraced all that enormous area of territory of Texas, New Mexico, California, the whole of modern Mexico and Yucatan, and the present south-bounding republic of Guatemala. This great area of the Empire of Mexico was, indeed, the third largest country in the world, coming next after the Russian and Chinese empires. Such was the great political entity over which Iturbide's brief royal sway extended—brief, for, crowned Emperor Augustine I. on July 21, 1822, he abdicated on March 19, 1823—a brief kingship of a few months—left the country, returned, hoping to benefit it, and was "executed" on July 19, 1824! Thus passed the Empire—the first attempt for royal rule in the Americas, although not the last.

It is not to be supposed that the birth of independence in Mexico had brought forth peace and order among the Mexicans. Far from it. If the grito of Hidalgo had heralded political liberty it was also the signal for the almost continual internecine wars and bloody struggles which made the name of Mexico a synonym for revolution and bloodshed for more than half a century, and which it only began to lose at the close of the nineteenth century. The execution of Iturbide showed the rise of that spirit of ferocity and remorseless ingratitude which has always characterised the political history and strife of Latin America, whether Mexico, Peru, Venezuela, Chile, or any other of the Hispanic self-governing countries. Immediately after the formation of Iturbide's regency, which included O'Donoju, whose acts had been repudiated by Spain, dissensions arose, and the first Constitutional Congress, of February 24, 1822, soon formed itself into political sections, some of which regarded Iturbide with disfavour. From his position as Emperor he threw various Congressmen into prison for opposition to the empire (a sentiment which grew rapidly), and finally dissolved Congress. At this time the somewhat sinister figure of Santa-Anna arose, with a pronunciamiento at Vera Cruz in favour of a republican form of government; and although supported by Bravo, Guerrero, and others, the insurgents fell before the forces of the Emperor. Iturbide, however, did not desire to disrupt the nation. He had been crowned and anointed with great pomp and ceremony in the beautiful Cathedral of Mexico, but he abdicated, and sailed on an English ship for Italy, and the Congress passed an Act pronouncing him an outlaw and traitor. This Act, as before stated, showed the spirit of singular remorselessness and ferocious ingratitude characterising the Spanish-Americans' political methods. These were the days of the "Holy Alliance," which strove to bring about Spain's re-domination of America, and Iturbide, in London, learning of the plan, and ignorant of the iniquitous Act launched against him, embarked for Mexico, thinking to lend his sword on behalf of his native country if she were threatened by the Alliance. He was captured and illegally sentenced by the Congress of a petty Mexican province—Tamaulipas—and shot. Serene and disdainful, he fell, a figure which compels more respect than censure in the mind of the student of to-day.

These were portentous times in the history of the New World. It must not be forgotten that the independence of Mexico took place in what was a reactionary time in Europe, and the spirit of the Holy Alliance was rendered evident by the attitude of France. But there was Britain to be reckoned with. Britain did not hesitate to declare for the emancipation of the Spanish colonies, and the "Monroe Doctrine" was conceived by the famous words of Canning in "calling into being the New World to redress the balance of the Old." In August, 1823, Canning sounded the American Government as to whether they "would act in concert with Britain against any aggression against the independence of the Spanish-American Republics," which brought forth the famous enunciation of President Monroe in Washington "that any such aggression would be hostile to themselves and dangerous to their peace and safety"—the basis of the now well-known Monroe Doctrine. Nevertheless, the United States regarded Mexico at that period with little favour or sympathy, and indeed this fact has been noted with some resentment by Mexican historians. But it is to be recollected that the United States itself was weak, and could not be expected to antagonise Europe too deeply. As it was, Mexico entered into the concert of nations without a friend in the world, save as the not necessarily disinterested or altruistic declaration of Britain and the United States might be construed as friendship. But the recognition of Mexico's independence by Britain in 1825 and treaty of friendship brought the first foreign capital to the land's resources, whilst the war between Mexico and the United States in a territorial dispute, showed that a spirit of equity was yet foreign to the Anglo-Saxon Republic.

On the ruins of the transient empire of Iturbide the building of the Mexican Republic was begun. The National Constitution was proclaimed in October, 1824, by the Federal Congress, and the famous insurgent leader, Guadalupe Victoria, named President, with Bravo as Vice-President. Great Britain and the United States recognised the new Republic in the first year—1825—of its existence, and the latter country sent its Minister in representation. Two political parties came into existence—the Centralists, principally Spanish, and the Federalists—and to the dissensions of these the continual revolutions and disturbances from that date to the middle of the century were due. Another disturbing factor was the introduction of Masonic lodges—the Scotch rite and the York rite, the latter introduced by the American Minister, which, becoming adopted by various partisans, were respectively opposed by others—and these Masonic institutions were the cause of disturbance in the politics of Mexico for many years. Among religious people the word "Mason" became a term of reproach. Due to the work of the York Masons, a great expulsion of Spaniards took place in 1827, the Spaniards having been finally ousted from the country, losing their last stronghold of the Castle of San Juan de Ulua at Vera Cruz in 1825.

It might have been supposed that Mexico, having gained its heart's desire of freedom from the dominion of Spain, with its own independent Government, would have established itself in peace, and continued on along the lines of national development. But it was not so. Insistent and sanguinary revolution reared its sinister head, to destroy all peace and security, and hold the country in barbaric strife for many years. It would be tedious to follow the causes and incidents of these pronunciamientos, imprisonings, seizings, shootings, executions, treachery, cruelty, and bloodshed of which this half-century of Mexican history is largely built up. The profession of arms became almost the only one which ambitious men would follow, and ambition and unscrupulousness went hand in hand. A condition of chronic disorder grew which paralysed the civil development of the country, made bankrupt the national treasury, and prostituted the people to becoming mere levies of insurgents, to be drawn upon by this or that revolutionary leader whose sinister star for the moment happened to be in the ascendant. Armed highwaymen infested the roads and inhabited the mountains, and travel was impossible without an escort. A terrible disregard of human life resulted, and became so strong a characteristic of the Mexicans as has even to-day not become eradicated.

In 1833 the beginning of a serious cause of civil trouble made its appearance, and one which has profoundly influenced the Mexicans and their life. This was the antagonism between the people and the politicians, and the clergy. Intensely religious, in the Romish faith, the Mexicans, like the South Americans, were subject to periods of bitter and relentless feeling against clerical domination, the result mainly of the extortions of the Church and its insidious acquiring of temporal power and amassing of wealth. Speaking generally, the Church brought about its own disestablishment by its own fault. Enactments were passed at this date to curtail the power and privileges of the clergy, declaring that tithes should not be collectable by civil law, nor the fulfilment of monastic vows enforced, and prohibiting the Church from meddling with public instruction. The political parties which then grew to being for or against these measures respectively were the Liberals and Conservatives, and to their dissensions were mainly due the subsequent disorders; and up to the present day they form the party divisions of Mexican politics. These measures were the precursor of the famous Reform Laws of 1859, under Juarez, which disestablished the Church and appropriated its property.

The incessant turbulence at home was varied from time to time by acute questions with foreign Powers. In 1829 Spain made a determined attempt to regain Mexico, with an expedition of 4,000 men, which, however, was absolutely repulsed by the Federal army under Santa-Anna and Mier: the Spanish general, Barradas, surrendering his armament and flags, at the news of which immense rejoicing took possession of Mexico. The independence of the Republic was recognised by Spain in 1836. Two years later—1838—a complication arose with France, and the war known as the Guerra de los Pasteles, or "Pie-War," came about, its singular designation resulting from the claim of a French pastry-cook for sixty thousand dollars as indemnity for the theft of some pies! Expensive confections these proved to be, for under the Prince de Joinville the French landed and surprised Vera Cruz, attacked the house of Santa-Anna—this famous general losing a leg by a cannon-shot—whilst, on peace being concluded soon afterwards, Mexico agreed to pay $600,000 to settle all questions against her.

Following upon these incidents revolutions and pronunciamientos succeeded each other like autumn leaves, and rights and obligations were trampled underfoot almost as ruthlessly as these. In 1837 the Federal system had been supplanted by "Centralism," and the marchings of armies and the rise and fall of generals and Presidents come thick and fast throughout the country. A party was formed for the restitution of a monarchical form of government following upon the publication of a pamphlet by Gutierrez Estrada to the effect—and the student of history will scarcely contradict it—that the Mexican people were not fitted to live under a Republican regime.

But the greatest event of this period of Mexican history now looms up—the war with the United States. The origin of this was the question concerning the great State of Texas. Much earlier, in 1821, some colonisation of that territory had been initiated by the Austins, father and son, who founded the city of that name. The Austins were Americans, and had obtained permission from the Government of Mexico to establish a colony, but disagreements soon came about. American filibusters of lawless character began to settle up the country, as well as peaceful colonists, and questions soon arose as to political representation and influence. A decree had been made by the Mexican Government forbidding slavery, and this became a poignant cause of discontent to the Texans, who, partaking of the character of the Americans of that period, saw nothing incompatible in holding their fellow-creatures in bondage under the aegis of "Liberty"! Whatever may have been the faults displayed—and there were faults, both on the Mexican and the Texan side—the fact remains to the honour of Mexico that she forbade slavery, which showed her civilisation certainly not inferior to her Anglo-Saxon neighbours. The lawlessness and system of slavery established in Texas at that period bore afterwards a terrible fruit, which the "race-war" and "colour-line" of to-day show are not yet eradicated. Santa-Anna had been sent against Texas, and he played a far from creditable part. The war for Texan independence began in 1835, and its fortunes varied at first, the Mexican general treating the Texans with barbaric cruelty upon winning a first engagement. But Sam Houston arose—his name is greeted with acclamation in Texas to-day—and Santa-Anna, beaten and captured, took a discreditable and craven part, signing, in return for his release and safety, an agreement to recognise Texan independence. Mexico, however, did not recognise this, notwithstanding that a Texan Constitution was set up in 1836. Returning now to Santa-Anna's Presidency, his erratic acts disgusted his countrymen, and pronunciamientos followed. Hoping to divert popular opinion from himself, Santa-Anna proposed the prosecution of a war with Texas, for its recovery, notwithstanding his personal previous agreements.

The assertion of hegemony by the United States brought on the beginnings of war between the two dominating peoples of the North American continent. The Republic of Texas, the United States declared, must remain untouched; any hostile act against it would be considered directed against the States itself, with which Texas was now to be incorporated. Mexico, torn by dissensions of its own, was not in a good position to oppose the policy of its neighbour at the moment. The revolutions against Santa-Anna culminated in his defeat and departure from the country under an act of banishment.

It is not to be supposed that the Mexicans, oppressed as they were by the revolutions and disasters arising from their own character, were without any good and noble traits which might redeem the lawlessness from which they suffered. Many deeds of Mexican arms, of self-abnegation in times of peril, and of heroic acts in the face of deadly odds, have left glorious episodes in their history. It is to be recollected that the struggles in which they were engaged arose often from an excess of zeal for liberty, and a strong spirit of individualism which could not support political oppression or affront. An instance of their heroic spirit is afforded by an incident in the American War. The storming of the Castle of Chapultepec was being carried on by the United States troops, who, after severe hand-to-hand fighting, penetrated to the fortress and made their way to the turret, to haul down the banner upon which the colours of Mexico, and the eagle, serpent and cactus were displayed. But the turret was disputed hotly by a few young Mexicans—boys almost—military cadets there. Seeing their beloved flag about to fall into the hands of the—to them—hated Yankees,[20] they fought to the last drop, and, rather than the standard should be captured, one of them, wrapping it round his body, leaped from the turret and was dashed to pieces on the stones below!

[Footnote 20: The designation of Yankee is very generally used in Spanish-American, for the Americans—not, however, in an offensive sense.]



But we anticipate. The first battle between the forces of Mexico and the United States was fought at Palo Alto in the north, in May, 1846; the command of the former being under General Arista, and the latter under General Zachary Taylor, but the Mexicans were defeated. Texas had been declared a part of the American Union in the previous year (December, 1845), and the military occupation by the Americans of Mexican territory—for the boundaries were ill-defined—formed the culminating casus belli. Torn by dissensions at home, and betrayed by the treachery of her own generals—among them the traitorous Paredes—Mexico was in no position to face a war with her powerful neighbour. Following on the battle of Palo Alto, Santa-Anna, who had returned, had been elected President, but had declared he could serve his country best by leading its army, and he advanced against the Americans under Taylor. Previous to this, the Americans, with a force of 6,700 men, had taken the city of Monterrey—a pretty, Spanish-built town far within the border of Mexico, which had been established by one of the viceroys—notwithstanding that the Mexicans, 10,000 strong, under General Ampudea, had defended it. The engagement under Santa-Anna lasted for two days—the battle of Buena Vista, February, 1847. Its issue long hung in the balance, and although the Americans gained the victory, it was a doubtful and indecisive one.

The American Government now decided to push the war to the end. But serious obstacles discouraged the attempt to march upon the capital of Mexico. The vast stretches of appalling desert which at that time formed that part of the continent of North America—now included in Texas, Chihuahua, and Coahuila—were waterless, and without resources, and beaten by a fiery sun; conditions which to-day, in some parts of the regions, are scarcely altered. The bravery and ferocity of the Mexicans, who were—and are—among the most expert horsemen in the world, would have rendered the advance over the intervening topographical wastes between Mexico's frontier and her capital of extremely doubtful issue. Attack was made, therefore, by sea, and an army of 12,000 men under General Winfield Scott landed at Vera Cruz on March 9, 1847. By September of the same year Vera Cruz, Puebla Contreras, Molino del Rey, Chapultepec, had all been the scene of strenuous engagements; but Mexico was to lose, and the invading Anglo-Saxons, having eaten their way to the heart of the Latin Republic, against considerable odds, occupied the capital on September 14, 1847.

Split into factions by political strife, which even the hammering at their gates of a common enemy had not sufficed to heal, Mexico received a terrible lesson. The history of Mexico had repeated itself. Just as Cortes and his Spaniards had penetrated from Vera Cruz to Tenochtitlan, thanks to dissensions among the Aztec inhabitants of the country, so had the Americans ascended over the same route to a similar victory by analogous circumstances. Even whilst the victorious forces of the Anglo-Saxons were marching onwards, the mad political generals and transient Presidents of Mexico were launching pronunciamientos, fighting among themselves, and shedding the blood of their own countrymen; and not until February 2, 1848, was peace entered into with the Americans, and the treaty of Guadalupe Hildalgo signed. Mexico ceded to the United States under this agreement the area of an empire! Texas had already been lost; California and New Mexico[21] were given up now, rich and extensive regions, although little known at the time, as indemnity for which the United States Government paid the sum of fifteen million dollars.

[Footnote 21: The English reader may ask, Where is New Mexico? It is that territory lying between Arizona and Texas, forming part of the American Union.]

So was concluded what the Mexicans have termed "the unjust war," and the historian will probably not feel called upon to dispute the designation. Great bitterness of feeling between the two nations was aroused on account of this conquest and cession of territory, which, among the Mexicans of the great plateau, is, even at the present day, far from being forgotten. It was but a short time after the cession of California that gold was discovered—the famous days of 1849—and Mexico did not know what she was losing. Perhaps in the interests of the development of the fine State of California and its progressive people, circumstances were for the best as they were. Santa-Anna disappears from the scene in 1855. After the war he had assumed semi-regal titles and pretensions, and had brought about or permitted a further cession in the unpopular treaty with the United States. Further revolutions and pronunciamientos followed, and civil war divided the country.

The figure of Juarez, famous in his country's history, was appearing, and this remarkable man became President in January, 1858. In the previous year a new Constitution had been adopted, and is that which has remained in force to the present day. It was duly subjected to a futile pronunciamiento! Further legal enactments were made by the Liberals against the clergy, as well as the anti-mortmain statute, framed by Lerdo with the object of releasing the great properties held by civil and religious corporations; and it was mainly aimed at the power and wealth of the Church—a foretaste of the Reform Laws.

Benito Juarez was a Mexican in whom no strain of Spanish blood existed, his parents having been pure-blooded Indians of the Zapotecas of Oaxaca. Shepherd, student of divinity, Governor of Oaxaca, Minister of Justice, and President by turns, the name and fame of this remarkable example of aboriginal intelligence stands strongly out in the history of his country. The Conservative party were not slow in launching pronunciamientos, and disaster befel the Liberal Government of Juarez, who was compelled to flee for the time being. The whole of the Republic again became the scene of desolating civil warfare, due to the bitter struggles of the Liberal and Conservative parties. Generals, calling themselves Presidents, set up Governments in various parts of the country, and pronunciamientos and bloodshed were the order of the day. But chief among the sanguinary scenes of this appalling drama, carried out with the religion of Christ as its mainspring, was the Tacubaya massacre. This place, a beautiful residential suburb of the City of Mexico, became the field of a strenuous engagement, the victorious forces of the Conservatives, under General Marquez, signalling their triumph by an abominable massacre, in which the medical attendants, including an English physician, all of whom had voluntarily given their services for succour of the wounded, were taken out and deliberately put to death in cold blood, by order of the ferocious Marquez. Another murder lies to the account of Marquez—that of Ocampo, one of the best of the Liberal statesmen. But the Liberal cause gained ground. Juarez landed at Vera Cruz; and the famous Reform Laws of July 12, 1859, were made, forming part of the basis of the administration set up at Vera Cruz. This code was directed against clericalism. The property of the Church was confiscated and nationalised; the clergy were severely arraigned as the authors of the sanguinary and fratricidal wars which had devastated the country; accused of abusing their power in a scandalous manner, with baleful control of their wealth; and, in short, the Church was disestablished and religious freedom proclaimed, together with the abolishing of religious orders and institutions, whilst marriage was later declared a civil contract.

Torn by their unceasing dissensions at home, the unfortunate Mexican nation now brought upon themselves complications from abroad. The Government of Juarez, having triumphed over the Conservatives, had been installed in the capital amid popular enthusiasm. But what was the state of the country over which it ruled? Sources of public revenue were paralysed or hypothecated; there was not a dollar in the treasury; and private enterprise and the activities of ordinary wealth were ruined. Funds must be obtained in some way; and an Act of Congress was passed in July, 1861, suspending the payment of Mexico's foreign debts. This grave step laid Mexico open to the most serious charges in European capitals, and her action was stigmatised as repudiation and robbery, especially in London, where the first Mexican loan had been contracted in 1823. This act of the Mexican Liberal Congress was naturally painted in its worst colours by the reactionary representatives of the Conservative party in Europe, who, desirous of bringing back a priestly and monarchical regime, thought this an opportunity and motive for compassing it by means of European intervention. In justice to Mexico at that period it must be chronicled that repudiation of her debts was not intended; only suspension in her temporary distress. But the reprehensible Act of President Miramon, in violating the British Legation and seizing $660,000 belonging to the British bondholders, in November, 1860, had not been forgotten.

Maximilian—the picturesque and melancholy-appearing figure: the ill-fated monarch of an unnatural New World empire—was the culminating figure of Mexico's internecine warfare and questionable financial acts. The story of Maximilian stands out from the pages of Mexico's history in pathetic colours, wringing a sigh from us as we scan its pages, or halt a space in the museum of Mexico's capital before the gilded tawdry coach of the ill-fated Austrian, which is preserved there in musty ruin. For up rose Napoleon III., pricking up his ears at this suggestion of a monarchy in America; and, urged by him, the tripartite convention by France, Spain, and England was brought to being in London, October, 1861, whose purpose was—or, at any rate by the British and Spanish—intervention and the enforcement of the just claims of their bondholders against the defaulting Mexicans. Sailing from Europe, the fleets of the three Powers arrived at Vera Cruz at the end of the year. No idea of conquest of, or interposition in, Mexican territory was intended in this action, only enforcement of just claims, and so it was proclaimed; and a conference having been celebrated with the Mexican representatives, and a preliminary agreement entered into, the Spanish and British ships in all sincerity withdrew and sailed for home. Not so the French—and the charge of perfidy is recorded against France for her act—for the troops of Napoleon repudiated the agreement and entered upon a war of conquest or subjugation. Severe reverses marked their campaign at first, the Mexicans obstinately defending the integrity of the country, under the administration of Juarez, with able generals at the front. Among these was Diaz—later the famous President Diaz—who won some early laurels in the defence of Puebla. But Puebla fell, Juarez abandoned the capital, and the French, under General Forey, entered the City of Mexico without opposition and set up a junta of prominent Mexicans to decide on the form of government to be adopted. The decision of the junta was for a limited monarchy, whose sovereign should be designated Emperor of Mexico, and whose crown should be offered to Maximilian, Archduke of Austria, or, failing him, to some other Catholic prince who might be nominated by "the kindness of his Majesty Napoleon III. of France!" So it befel; a deputation of Mexicans was sent to the Hapsburg prince in his castle upon the far-off Adriatic Sea. Maximiliano accepted under certain conditions; arrived in Mexico, and in company with his wife Carlota, daughter of Leopold, King of the Belgians, was crowned with great solemnity in the Cathedral of Mexico in June, 1864.

Meantime the Liberal party, thus ousted from the seat of Government, was not idle. Juarez established his administration in successive northern towns, approaching the United States border. War to the death against the monarchical system, which had been crammed down the Liberal throat, was their slogan and source of inspiration. The doughty Porfirio Diaz, nominated to a high command, was despatched to Oaxaca; besieged there by the French under Bazaine, making a most determined stand; surrendered at length through lack of food, ammunition, and disaffection among his own people; was captured, imprisoned; escaped; turned against the pursuing enemy and overcame them, re-capturing again his native city, and once more turned the tables upon the Conservatives and the Monarchy.



The star of Empire, which shone for less than three years under Maximilian, now sets with dramatic suddenness. From the first it was seen that the Emperor was no bigoted Churchman, and his refusal to rescind the clauses of the Reform Laws involved the Imperial Government in grave questions and antagonisms with the disappointed clericals; and the Emperor, indeed, showed himself much in sympathy with the Liberals. These, however, bent upon their own absolute way, would hold no parley with him, notwithstanding that overtures had been made to Diaz after the recapture of Oaxaca.

The end approaches rapidly. The city of Puebla, a Conservative stronghold, falls before Diaz and three thousand of the Republican army, and siege is laid to the City of Mexico in April, 1867. Maximilian had seen the trend towards the inevitable, but had striven, during the previous year, to consolidate the clerical party, whilst the Empress Carlota—brave and pathetic figure of these dramatic events—had gone to France to implore Napoleon to countermand his perfidious withdrawal of the French troops, and to endeavour to secure a settlement of the matters at issue with the clericals with Pope Pius IX. It was useless. The French army left the shores of the country they had wantonly outraged, abandoning the unfortunate figure-head placed there as a result of French machinations, with only the Belgians and Austrians of Maximilian's immediate following. The ill-fated Austrian wavered between his advisers—whether to abandon the thankless task upon which he was engaged, or whether to stay with it to the bitter end. He ultimately chose the latter course; reversing a first intention of abdicating, returned to Mexico city; left thence for Queretaro, and intrenched himself, with an effective force of some nine thousand Imperialists, in that town. The Republicans, twenty-one thousand strong, laid strenuous siege to and attacked the place, suffering several repulses; but the treachery of Lopez, of the Imperialist army, afforded them the entrance to the town, and Queretaro fell.

The fate of the Emperor Maximilian was now in the hands of Juarez. A court-martial was called, and Maximilian was permitted to select counsel for his defence. The deliberations resulted in a sentence of death against Maximilian and his two chiefs and faithful generals, Miramon and Mejia. Juarez took his pen to sign the death-warrant, when before him—the Indian President, son of a despised race—there appeared and kneeled the figure of the Austrian princess, Carlota, supplicating for clemency for her husband. It is said that Juarez wavered, but at that fateful moment the stern Lerdo appeared at the door of the apartment, and shaking a warning finger, uttered those words which sealed the doom of Maximilian, and which have come down ever since in Mexico's history as a species of national axiom—"Ahora o nunca se salva la patria!"[22] Juarez signed; the condemned Emperor took his stand upon the Cerro de las Campanas outside Queretaro, and faced the file of carbines pointed at his breast, serene and dignified. "Take you the place of honour in the centre," he said in turn to Miramon and Mejia—the latter a full-blooded Indian general who had been privately offered, and had refused, a pardon by Juarez. But both declined, and the three brave men faced forward. A volley rang out upon the early morning air, and with it passed the life of Maximilian and his chiefs, and the last Imperial regime of Mexico.

[Footnote 22: "Now or never for our country's salvation."]

This execution—or murder—of Maximilian—for the student is at liberty to term it which he will, according to the trend of his sympathies—took place on June 19, 1867. The wife of the ill-fated member of the unfortunate House of Hapsburg went mad, and in that state lived long in Europe. To the commander of the Austrian warship, who, arriving at Vera Cruz, demanded the remains of the "Emperor of Mexico," answer was returned by the Mexicans that no such person was known; when he then requested the body of "Maximilian of Austria" it was delivered to him. "Savages and barbarians" was the verdict of Europe against the Mexicans for the termination of this drama, and only of recent years—1901—have diplomatic relations been reopened between Mexico and Austria. The impartial historian sees in the denouement the dictates of fate for a Republican regime throughout the New World, and acknowledges the philosophical right for this form of government; although it may well be open to question if the republicanism of the Americans has yet brought much of advancement to mankind in general or to their own civilisation in particular. The figure of Maximilian, weak though it may have been, was not without nobility; nor did his brief rule lack possibilities for the nation—one party of which had invited his advent and the other consummated his destruction.

The City of Mexico capitulated to Diaz. President Juarez returned thither and assumed the reins of government amid general approval and that popular enthusiasm which usually acclaims a change of regime in any time or country, and which was followed a few years later by renewed dissensions. But the figure and name of Juarez are engraved on the history of his country among its greatest, and furnish an example of the possibilities of intellect and power to be encountered in the aboriginal races of Mexico, stifled but not destroyed by the advent of the white race. Juarez is the only President of Mexico who has died in the occupancy of his office! He was followed by Lerdo, against whose government a pronunciamiento and revolution was launched, with a result that Lerdo fled to the United States. An event of much industrial importance to the country took place during Lerdo's term—the completion and opening of the railway from Vera Cruz to the capital, in January, 1873, thus placing in connection with the seaboard and the outside world the much-contested City of Mexico, with its chequered history.

The fall of Lerdo was the signal for, or rather the result of, the coming forward of the most prominent figure of Mexico's modern history—a figure, moreover, which links the turbulent past with progressive Mexico of to-day. This is the figure of Porfirio Diaz, the son of an innkeeper: student for priesthood, law student, revolutionist, soldier, statesman, and President by turns. Diaz has also Indian blood in his veins, upon the maternal side. After the events connected with the fall of the Empire the ambitions of Diaz found outlet in the disaffections against Lerdo's government. It was hardly to be expected that the ambitions and jealousies of the times could yet give way to consolidation for national interests and desire for peace and development; and the only hope for the country was in the advent of a strong man and a strong system, such as, under better auspices, the monarchical regime might have afforded. The strong man appeared in the very antithesis of monarchy—Porfirio Diaz; and the autocratic regime—almost monarchical except in name—in the military-civil government which followed. Good, indeed, seemed to proceed out of evil, and the autocratic President of Mexico came through chaos to power as a revolutionist himself, by the edge of the sword, shedding his own countrymen's blood, and borne on the crest of an insurrectionary wave. Yet there was more behind the fortunes and character of Diaz than mere selfish ambition or the habit of a disorderly soldier-spirit. He had early conceived Liberal views against clerical domination, and his earlier career showed loftier aspirations than those of the ordinary tawdry revolutionist of the times, who, under the name of liberty, indulged too often personal or party licence against law, decency, and humanity. Diaz, after the revolution, assumed executive power in November, 1876, and after a brief interval took the oath and Presidential chair on May 5, 1877. The term of President Gonzalez followed, and during this measures of civil progress were inaugurated. Diplomatic relations were reopened with Great Britain, and a beginning made to adjust the debt with the foreign bond-holders. The Mexican Central Railway, linking the Republic with its neighbour the United States, was inaugurated, and was an important factor in the political settling-down of the country.

Diaz was re-elected to the Presidency for December 1, 1884. From that period until the present day he has held the office continuously—seven Presidential terms—a regime which has partaken more of the nature of a hereditary sovereignty than of an elective post. It is to be recollected, however, that in all Spanish-American countries—and Mexico has been no exception—intimidation and bribery at the polls and breaches of constitutional law have been potent factors in election matters. It would not be correct, however, to ascribe these influences to the latter terms of office of President Diaz, who, there can be little doubt, has enjoyed the confidence of his fellow-citizens and a majority of their votes.[23] His enemies, the inevitable enemies of a political chief, have been few and silent; and, moreover, in these years of Mexican history sudden and silent retribution has been visited upon the least whisper or suspicion of pronunciamientos, whether near the capital or whether in the remote towns of the great plateau!

[Footnote 23: The character of President Diaz has been drawn in the various books recently written on Mexico. It is not the intention of this work to indulge in the flattery which in some cases has been given to him, especially in Mexican books. I had the pleasure of meeting the President on a brief occasion some years ago. Diaz completes the 80th year of his strenuous life in 1910. (See also page 165.)]



A certain main and important condition presented itself to the comprehension of Diaz early in his administration, and compliance with it has been one of the principal contributing causes to his success. This was the necessity for the bettering of the means of communication of the country. Roads, railways, and telegraph multiplied accordingly under the fostering work of the Diaz Governments, mainly by inducements held out to foreign capitalists; partly by the expenditure of national funds. When troops and messages can be moved and flashed about rapidly pronunciamientos tend to diminish. The credit of the country abroad was firmly re-established in 1886 by a proper adjustment of the foreign debt with Mexico's European creditors; and as a result further loans were secured. The Mexican National Railway, traversing the country from the capital to the United States frontier, was opened in November, 1888, as well as a line southwards to Oaxaca, later; and thus the nineteenth century closed with an era of growing stability and prosperity at home and a creditable reputation abroad. The old elements of unscrupulous ambition had been outlived, and the best men the country produced were directing its governing and development. The fiscal policy of the administration had been wisely thought out and applied, and had proved a success, and difficulties due to the depreciation of the silver coinage had been weathered.

The twentieth century opened for Mexico with a continuance of the same governing elements, policy, and general development, Diaz being re-elected for the term beginning in December, 1900, and again for the term 1904-1910: this being his seventh tenure of office. Important public works have been carried to completion during these last periods, chief among them being the drainage of the Valley of Mexico—that historical scheme begun by the viceroys—and the harbour works of Vera Cruz; rendering shipping safe from the great "northers" which since the time of Cortes have harassed vessels lying in the bay. These works were performed by British firms; and yet another, under similar auspices, was the completion of the Tehuantepec Railway—a trans-Continental line from the Atlantic (Gulf) to the Pacific; all of which works are of really historical importance. The present time—1909—finds Mexico an established power on her continent, with considerable opportunities for good or evil in the influence of international matters in North and Central America, and with her own future well mapped out in so much as the ingenuity of her public men may devise.

What this future will really be must depend upon the temper of her people and the prudence of political changes. The staunch leader who, thanks to the species of limited Presidential Monarchy which circumstances have required and permitted, has successfully carried on the leadership must, in the natural course of events, yield this up. This will afford an opportunity for ambition and possible strife on the part of those elements which have been overawed in the past, and which it is too much to expect have been altogether eliminated. Then will be the real test of Mexican self-control and prudence, and it seems probable that these will be exercised.



CHAPTER VIII PHYSICAL CONDITIONS: MOUNTAINS, TABLELANDS, AND FLORA AND FAUNA

Geographical conditions—Tehuantepec—Yucatan—Boundaries and area— Population—Vera Cruz—Elevations above sea-level—Latitude—General topography—The Great Plateau—The Sierra Madres—The Mexican Andes— General structure—The coasts—Highest peaks—Snow-cap and volcanoes— Geological formation—Geological scenery—Hydrographic systems— Rivers—Navigation—Water-power—Lakes—Climate and temperatures—The three climatic zones—Rainfall—Snowfall—Flora and fauna—Soil— Singular cactus forms—The desert flora—The tropical flora—Forest regions—Wild animals—Serpents, monkeys, and felidae—Sporting conditions—Birds.

We have traced the evolution of the Mexican people through the phases of their chequered history: let us now examine more closely their habitat, the country and its physical structure, and natural clothing; its mountains and plains and accompanying vegetation, no less interesting and picturesque in their respective fields.

The geographical conditions of Mexico and its geology and accompanying topography are peculiar, and indeed in some respects unique. Mexico has been termed "the bridge of the world's commerce,"[24] and, in fact, its geographical position between the two great oceans of the world—the Atlantic and the Pacific, and between, or joining, two great continents, North and South America—would seem to warrant such a description, especially having regard to the coming development of that part of the world and the rise of the Pacific Ocean in commercial importance. It is indeed a favourite theory of some writers that the commercial and civilised centre of the world is destined to shift from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean. This theory, which must be characterised, however, as open to much conjecture, has been lightly discussed elsewhere in these pages. But be it as it may, the situation of the cornucopia-shaped land of Mexico is of great and growing importance. Among the geographical features of almost international importance is the remarkable isthmus of Tehuantepec—now traversed by a railway—which separates by only 120 miles the deep waters of the Atlantic and Pacific Ocean systems. It is an isthmus of Panama of greater width, and certainly may form a "bridge of commerce."

[Footnote 24: Humboldt.]

Mexico—apart from the Yucatan peninsula—consists of a great triangular-shaped area, forming the tapering end of the North American Continent. It is bounded on the north and north-east by the United States; on the east by the Atlantic waters of the Gulf of Mexico, Gulf of Campeche, and Caribbean Sea; on the west and south by the Pacific Ocean; and on the south-east by Guatemala and British Honduras. Mexico is, therefore, a close neighbour of a part of the British Empire! The greatest length of the country is 2,000 miles nearly, its greatest width 760 miles, and its area 767,000 square miles. Thus it is nearly nine times the size of Great Britain, or as large as Great Britain, France, Germany, and Austria-Hungary all joined together; and this enormous area is inhabited at present by only fourteen or fifteen million people.

Although Mexico lies half within and half without the tropics, it is generally known as a tropical country; and, indeed, the main gateway to it, Vera Cruz, is a tropical seaport, which may well give rise to such a general impression upon the part of the European traveller. A different impression, however, is acquired upon entering the country from the United States to the north. No tropic forests and bright-plumaged birds are encountered there as at Vera Cruz; instead are vast stretches of desert lying within the temperate zone, alternating with cultivated plains and interspersed with large towns. The traveller, roused by the shriek of the locomotive, looks forth into the clear dawn of the chill Mexican morning from the window of his sleeping-berth upon the Pullman car, as the train speeds over the plateau.



No fact is more strongly borne upon the traveller in Andine and Cordillera-formed countries than that latitude forms but an unreliable guide to climate and temperature. Nearness to the Equator, with its accompanying torridity, is often counterbalanced by high elevations above sea-level, with consequent rarefied air and low temperature—a combination which embodies considerable advantages, as well as some drawbacks. These conditions are very marked in Mexico. Entering the country from Vera Cruz, we rise rapidly from sea-level to 7,410 feet at the City of Mexico; entering from the United States, we rise imperceptibly from 4,000 feet to the same elevation. As to its geographical position, the country extends over 18 degrees of latitude, from 32-1/2 degrees north to 14-1/2 degrees north, and it lies between the 86th and 118th meridian west of Greenwich.

Topographically the country offers a very varied surface, the main features of which are the Great Plateau, the extensive, lofty tableland known as the mesa central; and the Pacific and Atlantic slopes, formed by the flanks of the Sierra Madres mountains towards these oceans respectively. At the base of these ranges are the lowlands of the coasts; whilst the eastern extremity of the country is formed by the singular plains of the peninsula of Yucatan.

A large part of the country's area is taken up by this great plateau of Anahuac, as it is sometimes termed. The tableland is bounded both on the east and the west by ranges of mountains, known as the Eastern Sierra Madre and the Western Sierra Madre respectively. These mountains close in towards the south, enclosing the tableland in a tapering form, and the Valley of Mexico which forms its extremity. On the north the mesa central is intersected by the Rio Grande, which forms the boundary of Mexico with the United States; and the plateau continues thence into the territory of that country. The length of this plateau, from north-west to south-east, or, roughly, upon its longitudinal axis, is approximately 800 miles, and its greatest width between the summits of the enclosing mountains about 500 miles. The tableland is, however, intersected by various lesser ranges of hills, and is not by any means a flat, unbroken expanse. Nevertheless, its formation is such that a vehicle might be driven from the City of Mexico for vast distances without having resort to roads. It may be looked upon physically as a great plane, inclined or tipped from south to north, or from the City of Mexico to the United States border. The general elevation above sea-level of the inclined plane at its southern end is 8,000 feet, and that at its northern 4,000 feet—a slope of 4,000 feet in a direction away from the Equator; and a fact which greatly influences its climate. The Mexican plateau is the result of after-formation from the mountain system of the country. The Sierra Madres are the Mexican Andes, part of the chain-formation of those vast Cordilleras which are most developed in South America, on the one hand, and are encountered in the Rocky Mountains of North America on the other. In South America the Andes consist of huge parallel chains with river and lake-basins of profound depth between them. In Mexico the same formation must have existed, but the basins have been filled up by material discharged from volcanoes and from the erosion of the mountains themselves, doubtless caused by the severe and sudden rain-storms and rapid changes of temperature characteristic of these regions. Thus the great plateau may be likened to a number of filled-up troughs, through whose general surface the tops of mountain ranges still protrude in "islands" or groups, whose crests form the intersecting hills of the plateau. Some of the plains of the plateau between these crests are hydrographic entities, with no outlet for their waters, as in the case of the Bolson of Mapimi—a vast rock-wilderness of 50,000 square miles in area, with great swamps and lake bottoms—and the Valley of Mexico. These great depressions, indeed, in a measure bear out the analogy or relationship with the South American Andes, as in the case of the hydrographic entity of Lake Titicaca in Peru and Bolivia, the great inland sea whose waters have no outlet save by evaporation. The enormous depth of alluvial soil found in the bolsones or depressions of the Mexican plateau, formed from rock-decay, or of volcanic material accumulated by the great lakes of recent times which covered them in the central part of the great mesa central, bear striking evidence to the filling-up process of the past. In the neighbourhood of the River Nazas wells have been sunk to great depths in this material without a single stone or rock of any description being encountered. Indeed, on some of the cotton lands of this region I have looked in vain to find even a pebble, so fine is the alluvial soil. The stratified rocks, which are scarce upon the southern part of the plateau, become much more prevalent in the north, and the vast sandy, arid plains, which cover enormous areas of land in Chihuahua and Coahuila extending thence past the valley of the Rio Grande into the great American deserts of Texas and New Mexico, are doubtless formed from the disintegration of the sandstone and chalk horizons of that region.

Leaving for a moment our examination of the great plateau, let us observe the coast. On both sides of the country—the Gulf of Mexico or the Pacific Ocean—we observe that the littoral is composed of sandy lowlands. On the eastern or Gulf side these coastal plains vary in width from a few miles up to a hundred miles; for the Cordillera approaches near to the sea at Vera Cruz, and recedes far from it in Tamaulipas. Upon the Pacific side, however, the coastal plains are more restricted in width, as the Cordillera runs nearer the sea-coast, but leaving a wider strip at the north. Indeed, in the State of Guerrero the Sierras rise almost abruptly from salt water, and the waves bathe the roots of the trees which cover the mountain slopes. The country rises rapidly from both oceans—more rapidly from the Pacific side—and forms a succession of terraces upon the slopes of the Sierra Madres, traversed by profound transversal canyons and culminating in the crests of these mountains which enclose the great plateau on both sides.



The Sierra Madres, or Mexican Andes, have the general Andine direction of north-north-west. They are divided into two systems—the western and the eastern—whose respective crests in the north are from 400 to 500 miles apart, enclosing the mesa central, and which approach towards the south. The Pacific range has some important ramifications from its main system, but the general Andine structure is maintained. The range is again encountered in the long peninsula of North-Western Mexico—known as Lower California—where it parallels the eastern side of this great tongue of land for more than 700 miles. Indeed, a study of Mexico's orography and the delineation upon the map shows the series of parallel features formed by alternate mountain-folds and intervening basins—the peninsula of Lower California; the Gulf of the same name; the Western Sierra Madre; the intersecting crests of the great plateau; the Eastern Sierra Madre, and the Gulf Coast. Thus these huge "earth-wrinkles" of the Andine system of South America show their characteristics in Mexico, modified, however, by cross-agencies of volcanic nature. The map of Mexico shows strikingly how the country is formed upon its rocky framework, the ribs of these vast folds.



The passes over these mountain ranges, giving access to the plateau-interior of Mexico from the oceans, vary from 8,500 feet to 10,000 feet, the range upon the Pacific side being generally the higher. But the highest peaks rise much above these altitudes, in some few cases reaching beyond the perpetual snow-line, although ever much lower than the Andes of South America. Three culminating peaks only pass the snow-line in Mexico, although others of the crests and summits are frequently snow-covered. The first of these three peaks is Orizaba, or Citlaltepetl—the "Star Mountain" of the native—the beautiful and symmetrically formed cone whose gleaming snow-cap is seen by the approaching traveller far over the stormy waters of the Gulf as he approaches the shores of Vera Cruz. So Grijalva and Cortes saw it; so the voyager of to-day sees it, as its snowy point seems to hang in mid-sky, its base buried in clouds and its gleaming summit surrounded by the azure of the tropic firmament. The summit of Orizaba is 18,250 feet above the level of the sea—the highest point in Mexico. Next in point of altitude is the famous Popocatepetl—the "Smoking Mountain," so called by the natives for its eruptions in centuries past, for it is no longer active. Some of the adventurous Spaniards of the band of Cortes reached the rim of the crater on its summit, and, indeed, later the Spaniards extracted sulphur therefrom, and various ascents have been made recently. Its last eruption was in 1665. The summit of Popocatepetl is 17,250 feet above sea-level, and it is of characteristic conical form. The third perpetually snow-capped peak is Ixtaccihuatl—the "Sleeping Woman," so named by the natives from the fanciful suggestiveness of a reclining woman—and its summit is 16,960 feet above the sea. The Indian names of these striking monuments of nature serve to show the poetical nomenclature which the natives of the Americas ever gave to topographical features. Especially was this the case among the Aztecs of Mexico and the Incas of Peru. The last-named mountain is not of the characteristic conical form which volcanoes generally have, its outline—beautiful as it is—forming a serrated edge, and it appeared singularly striking from Tacubaya, where I first beheld it. Nevertheless, all these three mountains—the highest points in the country—are of volcanic origin. The majestic and poetic peaks of the "Smoking Mountain" and the "Sleeping Woman" form part of the Sierra Nevada, or Cordillera of Anahuac, in company with Malinche, another of the highest culminating peaks, 14,630 feet above sea-level. This chain is a cross ridge of volcanic and more recent formation than that of the general system of the Mexican Cordilleras, and forms, as it were, a line of volcanic action at right angles to the general Andine trend, associated perhaps with Orizaba on the east and the volcano of Colima (12,990 feet elevation) on the west. This latter mountain is the only active crater in Mexico at the present time. The great Malinche, or Malintzin—possibly named after the fair interpreter of Cortes—is a mountain of striking form, with its brow often snow-covered, upon the borders of the plateau of Tlaxcala, whilst the singular Cofre de Perote, with its box or coffin-like summit (13,400 feet above sea-level), is a prominent landmark of the eastern slope of Mexico's road from Vera Cruz, overhanging the summit of the Sierra Madre at the limit of the lowlands. Other high peaks are the Nevedo de Toluca, often snow-crowned, 14,950 feet; and Tancitaro, 12,660 feet.

The Mexican mountains are mainly of underlying granite formation. The Jurassic, Cretaceous, and Tertiary Ages rocks are much in evidence throughout the country, whilst the highest ranges, as we have seen, are of volcanic origin. The singular plains of Yucatan are largely of calcareous formation, probably a Tertiary limestone. One of the most plentiful rocks over vast areas of Mexico, and that which forms the striking variation of scenery, is the mountain limestone, the excessively hard stratified crystalline rock of the Lower Cretaceous period. This rock formation extends right across Mexico—although isolated in places—from sea to sea, and its existence possibly goes to show that the Pacific and the Gulf were one, in earlier geological times. The predominating shades of these extensive strata are blue and grey; occasionally there are black bands alternating, and they lie upheaved at such angles as remind the traveller of the still more pronounced strata of the high summits of the Peruvian Andes.[25] The mountain limestone is of very hard texture; white and crystalline, it wears away but slowly under the action of the elements, although on the steep mountain tracks over which we are journeying we shall observe it broken into cubes like sugar, beneath the incessant trampling of hoofs, or worn away to silver-sand and borne down by the streamlets into the river valleys.

[Footnote 25: See my book, "The Andes and the Amazon."]

The rock-formations of the tablelands are those to which Mexico owes her fame as a silver-producing country, and it is in the high region, from 5,000 to 9,500 feet above sea-level, that her historical mines are encountered; and the zone of territory embraced by these well-known centres, from Pachuca to Guanajuato and onwards to Chihuahua, may be described without exaggeration as the richest argentiferous region on the surface of the globe. It is to the metamorphic formation that the abundance of mineral ores is due, and the igneous rocks which have given rise thereto—the granites, basalts, diorites, porphyries, and others. This metalliferous zone is more than 1,500 miles long, extending from the State of Chihuahua and Sonora in the north to Oaxaca and Chiapas in the south.

As we cross the coast-zone from Vera Cruz we are enabled to observe something of the orographical structure of the country and the agencies that have been at work. The coastal plains are sedimentaries of Tertiary formation. The medanos, or sand-dunes, of the coast, blown into singular forms by the prevailing norte from the Gulf, give place, as we proceed inland, to the foothills of the Eastern Sierra. Here the Cretaceous formation is shown—the hard crystalline limestone—and this, from its durable nature, has furnished material for the new breakwater at Vera Cruz. Again, as we proceed, the lower rocks are sheeted with the lava of former eruptions of volcanoes, worn away at times by the ravines, and showing the points of Cretaceous rocks protruding; and volcanic dust from the same source drifts hither and thither, and at times has been compressed by the elements into a soft tufa. The great sheets of lava, as in certain places in the Valley of Mexico, are of remarkable appearance on the face of the country, the scorified aspect seemingly little changed since the moment when the fiery sheet must have poured devastatingly down the countryside.

The rock-formation of Mexican landscape gives rise to exceedingly picturesque and romantic scenery in places, and to diverse configurations of striking beauty, among which we shall often draw rein as we journey, or which will attract us continually to the observation-point of our Pullman car as the train winds along. Upon the Gulf of Mexico or the Pacific slopes the territory is grand and broken in the extreme, and presents curious and beautiful examples of rock-scenery. The natural monoliths of the barrancas of the State of Hidalgo are strange examples of scenic geology; monumental caprice of Nature in megalithic structure, as shown by the remarkable basalt columns of the profound Gorge of Itzala. Vari-coloured lichens cover these basalt pillars, affording singular contrast of light and shade. Through the gorge a torrential stream flows, and the floor of the valley is covered with fragments of obsidian, or volcanic glass, gleaming black and brilliant, which has been brought down by the waters from the Cerro de Navajas. This obsidian, or Itzli, was the material from which the Aztecs made their knives and weapons, and this was their prehistoric quarry. The red lava deserts of Sonora are weird and remarkable.

Mexico is divided hydrographically into three systems: the Atlantic, or Gulf of Mexico watershed; that of the Pacific; and the hydrographic entities of the great plateau. In the first of these is the vast region of the northern part of Mexico, which, with Texas and New Mexico, drains into the Rio Grande and thence into the Gulf; the long littoral of the Gulf Coast, whose divortia aquarum, or water-parting, is formed by the Eastern Sierra Madre; and the peninsula of Yucatan. In the second is the vast stretch of the Pacific slope, whose divortia aquarum is the Western Sierra Madre; the peninsula of Lower California, and the southern side of the region south of the Isthmus of Tehuantepec. In the third are the intra-montane portions of the great plateau, whose waters have no outlet or natural source of exhaustion except that by evaporation, such as the great plains known as the Bolson of Mapimi; and the Valley of Mexico. Topographically, however—apart from the three climatic zones of hot, temperate, and cold lands—the country is divided orographically into two portions by the Isthmus of Tehuantepec, the former consisting of the characteristic mountain-chains and great plateau, and the latter of the immense plains of Yucatan, with a low elevation of not more than 300 feet above sea-level.

The formation of Mexico has not given rise to the existence of great or navigable rivers nor, indeed, of harbours. With few exceptions rivers are torrential in character, although some are of considerable length. The Rio Grande, which forms the northern boundary of the United States, and is therefore international in character, is 1,500 miles in length; rising in Colorado and passing through New Mexico in the United States, and thence entering between Texas and Chihuahua, it is joined by two large tributaries—the Pecos on the American and the Conchos river on the Mexican side. Thence it flows south-eastwardly to the Gulf of Mexico. The waters which enter Mexican territory are scarce, as they have been taken out for irrigation purposes in American territory. The Lerma, or Santiago, river is the next in point of length, and is a stream of considerable importance, dividing the main portion of Mexico topographically into two subdivisions. It flows for 540 miles from its source in the mountains near Toluca, passing through the beautiful Lake Chapala—the largest in Mexico—and forms the great cascade of Juanacatlan, the Niagara of Mexico; traverses the State of Jalisco, where it is joined by numerous affluents, and discharges into the Pacific Ocean near San Blas.



Southwardly from the above, beyond the intervening Cordillera, is the River Balsas, or Mescala, 430 miles in length. This important stream has its rise in the watershed of the central plateau, or rather the extensive slopes of the Valley of Mexico, and running with a general westerly direction between the Sierras, empties into the Pacific at Zacatula. It is navigable for a short distance. The Yaqui, discharging into Pacific waters, is 390 miles long, flowing through the Sierras of Sonora to the Gulf of California. On the littoral of the Mexican Gulf is the Panuco, which rises to the north of the Valley of Mexico, flowing thence in a great curve; and being joined by various affluents from the eastern watershed of the Sierra Madres, it discharges at the port of Tampico. The Papaloapam, also draining part of the State of Vera Cruz, empties into the Gulf near the port of the same name. From the region of the peninsula of Yucatan flow two main streams—the Usamacinta and the Grijalva—which are partly navigable. All these rivers are further described in the chapter treating of the various States to which they correspond. Another characteristic stream of Mexico is the River Nazas, whose waters, nearly all absorbed by the irrigation canals of the Laguna region, where the famous cotton plantations are, fall in times of flood into the Lagoon of Parras, where they evaporate, the system forming a hydrographic entity, without outlet either to the Pacific or Atlantic watershed. Thus it is seen that most Mexican rivers simply rise in and descend on one or the other slopes of the country; and as the fall is rapid their courses are interrupted by numerous cascades. Except in few cases, these rivers are of no service for navigation, but the elements of water-power and irrigation facilities which they possess are more than compensating circumstances. In addition, their scenic value is very marked in many cases.

Lakes of Andine character, and others, exist throughout Mexico, the remnants of much larger lake systems, which occupied the filled-up "troughs" of the mountains, before described. Some of these sheets of water are exceedingly beautiful in their disposition and environment. Foremost among them is Chapala, in the State of Jalisco, near the handsome city of Guadalajara; and equally picturesque those smaller sheets of water in Michoacan—Lakes Cuitzeo and Patzcuaro. The remarkable groups of lakes in the Valley of Mexico, around which the Aztec civilisation flourished, comprise six salt-water and one (that of Chalco) fresh-water lake. The two maps given in these pages, of the disposition of these lakes at the time of the Conquest[26] and at the present day, respectively, show how remarkably their waters have shrunk during the intervening centuries. Indeed, this may have followed a certain drying-up process which seems to have been going on throughout the whole Andine region of the Americas, and which is evidenced by retiring snow-caps in Peru, and the receding of Lake Titicaca.

[Footnote 26: See page 76.]

The climate and temperature of Mexico follow certain marked zones, depending upon elevation, as already indicated in the opening chapter. Both on the Atlantic and Pacific slopes these zones are encountered—the tierra caliente up to 3,000 feet elevation above sea-level; the tierra templada to 5,000 or 6,000; and the tierra fria above that altitude. On the tropical lowlands the heat of the torrid zone is experienced, but is not necessarily oppressive, although the European or American traveller who prefers a less enervating climate hastens to exchange that region for the more bracing air of the uplands. The night breezes, however, compensate largely for the heat of the sun, and render bearable, and indeed agreeable, the Vera Cruz littoral and the Yucatan peninsula, by the lowered temperature they afford. The rains also, which have their season from June to November, do much to refresh the atmosphere. Indeed, the year is divided mainly by the matter of rainfall into a wet and dry period, the summer and winter of other countries being unknown; or, rather, one might say, that the daytime is the summer and the night-time the winter, so marked are the diurnal changes of temperature.

In the tierra caliente the mean temperature varies from 77 degrees to 80 degrees F., but often rises to 100 degrees, and in some of the hottest coast regions to 105 degrees F. In the tierra templada the mean is from 62 degrees to 70 degrees F., and this is the climatic region which the Mexicans love to term "perpetual spring." In point of fact, it is a zone not unworthy of the designation, being equable, healthy, and with a beautiful and varied flora. It is to be recollected that the greater part of the area of the country lies in this temperate zone, although there is included in it a part of the great plateau, with its great range of heat and cold from day to night. It is, however, with reference to the Atlantic and Pacific slopes that these changes are ascribed, and this fine and enjoyable climate is encountered from Ameca in Jalisco to Chilpancingo in Guerrero on the western side; and from Jalapa northwards upon the Gulf—vast belts of territory of which any country might well be proud. Upwards from this zone is that of the tierra fria, with a mean temperature of 59 degrees or 60 degrees F., which varies little throughout the year, although the maximum and minimum from day to night is very marked.



As regards the climate of Mexico generally, it might have been supposed that it would be oppressively hot, the country lying, as it does, towards the Equator. But this is far from being the case; and the New Yorker may well leave the stifling heat of his own city in summer for the tonic breezes of the Mexican uplands, just as he may winter there to avoid the bitter winter of New York. And, as to the European, we may recollect that the northernmost point of Mexico is two degrees nearer the Equator than the southernmost point of Europe, whilst the mean annual temperature of the City of Mexico—61 degrees F.—bears excellent comparison with such places as Algiers, 63 degrees; Barcelona, 61 degrees; Naples, 61 degrees; Rome, 60 degrees; Bordeaux, 57 degrees F. The diurnal change in the City of Mexico, however, is very marked, rising to 89 degrees F. during the day and falling to 35 degrees F. at night, when the foreigner gladly dons his overcoat and the native his capa, or serape. On the whole, it is natural to describe the climate of Mexico as pleasing and invigorating, whilst bearing in mind the variation above described, due to elevation, latitude, rainfall, and wind agencies. The effects of these changes are so marked upon the vegetation of the country that all the vegetable products from the Equator to the Polar Circle can be found among them.

The rainfall throughout the country is mainly confined to the rainy season, from May or June to October or November. During the middle of this season the rains are, at times, exceedingly heavy, the dry stream beds of the plateau filling up in a few hours with a torrential flood which sweeps everything before it. The desert plains in some places are traversed by deep barrancas, or gullies, worn down perpendicularly through the soil; and woebetide the unlucky horseman who may be journeying along the bottom of one of these when the wave of water comes down from some sudden cloud-burst in the mountains, which happens not infrequently. Incautious Indians and peones, also, who have taken up their lodging in some cave or dug-out of the banks of the torrential rivers of the plateau, or who have laid drunk upon the sun-baked river-bed, are often surprised by the waters, and their bodies are recovered miles away, stranded upon some sand-bar. This serves as giving an idea of the sudden and rapid flow of water from the mountains under the torrential rains; and a good example of a river subject to such a regimen is that of the Nazas. I have crossed the dry bed of this river at Torreon on various occasions on horseback, but on the return journey an hour afterwards the horse was swimming, or, when the current was too fierce, it was necessary to make a long detour to the bridge, for the torrent was raging 300 feet wide from bank to bank.

The average rainfall varies greatly for different parts of the country. For example, in the City of Mexico a year's mean fall may be 25 inches, whilst in Monterrey, some 500 miles to the north, it would reach 130 inches. In the dry season, however, no rain falls in any of the three zones of hot, temperate, or cold lands. Snowfall is very rare as far south as the City of Mexico, but is not unknown. In the cities of the great plateau, to the north, it is almost equally rare, occurring perhaps once or twice in a lifetime. When such does take place it affords an unwonted spectacle for the peones, and causes them to wrap themselves in their serapes and muffle up their mouths as if they were in the polar regions, rather than experiencing a momentary fall of temperature! A scene of this nature occurred during my stay in Lerdo, one of the towns of this region, and is well depicted in the accompanying view. The low rainfall of the extreme north of Mexico, of two to three inches, on the border of Arizona, and the excessive fall, reaching 156 inches, on the Isthmus of Tehuantepec, with the high rate for Monterrey and the moderate fall for the capital, show how remarkable are the hygrometric conditions due to topography. The maximum rainfall is only exceeded in very few regions of the globe.



If the geology and topography of Mexico are marked and peculiar, the organic world also presents its own remarkable conditions; for, as to its flora and fauna, Mexico is a land of transition, between North America on the one hand and Central and South America on the other, and contains the species of both regions, in the animal and vegetable kingdoms.

As may well be imagined from such peculiar conditions, Mexico is a country whose flora and fauna are diverse and extensive. Indeed, as regards the former, every vegetable product found from the Equator to the Polar Circle exist in the country. The soil, in the tropical regions, as a result of high temperature and excessive moisture, is deep and fertile, both from the rock-decay consequent upon such conditions, and the deposit of organic matter from the profuse vegetation. In the region of the high plateau the product of rock-disintegration added to that caused by volcanic matter, and the sediment of dried-up lagoons of very recent time, have produced a great depth of soil in places, as before described, covering vast expanses, and this soil is found to be of exceeding fertility under irrigation. The conditions regarding irrigation are very marked in the region of the Nazas. On the one hand we encounter dry, bare, and uncultivated wastes; on the other verdant fields of cotton. Why is this? Both the lands are of a similar character of soil, but one is above the line of the irrigation canal, and the other below.

No description of Mexico can be complete which does not sound the praises of her varied flora. The most striking characteristic of the flowers of this land, as has often been remarked, is the richness and brilliance of their colour. The floating gardens, and the canoe-loads of flowers and altar adornments of such which the Aztecs used and trafficked in, bore witness to aboriginal appreciation of these. To-day the flower-market of the capital is one of its attractions, whilst in the valley of Mexico not a day in the year lacks roses, lilies, camellias, strawberries, et hoc genus omne.

A varied and indeed, at times, eccentric field of study is laid open for the botanist in Mexico, for not only is there a remarkable variety of species, but their distribution is often singular. Thus the pine-tree is often found at low elevations upon the tropic slopes, much below its proper habitat upon the mountain ranges; whilst palms flourish in certain places as high as 8,000 feet above sea-level; and the extraordinary cactus forms, which in Mexico are found in their greatest development, grow both on the high mountain slopes and the tropic lowland plains. Especially will the traveller in Mexico be struck by the imposing organo cactus. This extraordinary growth, in form like a series of organ pipes, from which it takes its name, or like a huge branching candelabra, arising from a single stem, is a marked feature of the landscape. A few strokes of a machete, severing the stem of one of these great succulent plants, will bring down the whole structure, weighing many tons. The cactus, especially upon the high, arid deserts of the plateau, is a striking example of a plant contending with the conditions of its environment in the struggle for life. Cacti are veritable cisterns of water, stored up against long periods of absolute drought, so that they may be able to perform their function of flowering. The organo and other cacti consist of great masses of juicy green cells; and to protect the scarce commodity of water which they have collected for their own use from predatory desert beasts and birds, Nature has armed them at every point with an appalling armour of thorns, or spikes, sharp as steel, and due to these matters of offence and defence the cactus is enabled to flourish in sterile places where absolutely no other vegetation could exist. Nowhere are these conditions so marked as upon the upper reaches of the high plateau of Mexico, and the variety of the cacti is most interesting. Among the cactus species are some which are of value—great value—to the human inhabitants. Chief of these is the maguey (Agave americana), which is indeed one of the staple resources of the country, with a varied use, as described in the pages dealing with agriculture. The nopat, or prickly-pear, is a useful plant, yielding a succulent fruit—the tunas—and is also the habitat of the cochineal.



The tropical region—the tierra caliente—is generally covered, as before described, with a profuse floral and arboreal vegetation, whilst the other climatic belts display their own peculiar plant and tree life. Throughout the country generally, a large number of species of timber and plants exist in an uncultivated state, of commercial value, and these are enumerated in the chapter corresponding to the natural products. Among the 115 or more species of timber and wood for constructional purposes are oak, pine, mahogany, cedar, and others, whilst the list of fibrous and medicinal plants, gum-bearing trees, as india-rubber, chicle, &c., tinctorial and resinous trees, edible plants and fruits, is of much interest and value. In the tropical lowlands the country is so thickly wooded as in places to be impassable, except by clearing trails and felling trees. There are virgin forests of great extent in these sparsely populated regions, both of the Pacific and Atlantic slopes. Upon the great plateau, however, and the mountain slopes immediately adjoining it conditions are very different. Great tracts of country are, as elsewhere described, absolutely bare of vegetation, both naturally and by reason of the inroads made upon the forests by civilised man. The great desert tracts never had tree or plant life in profusion, but the hilly regions bounding these, and the inward slopes of the Sierra Madres were formerly covered with thick forests, and in some regions are still so covered. But they have been denuded in certain regions of their timber, principally for fuel, as native coal has been unknown until recently, and is difficult of transport. This denudation has had an undoubted effect upon the rainfall, and has served to change the climatic conditions in these regions. In other upland regions, however, the splendid and extensive forests of oak and pine form marked features of the landscape, and are of much industrial value.



The diversity of climatic and botanical conditions of Mexico gives as a natural corollary a variety of animal life, and the fauna is an extensive one, including, with small exception, all the species of North America on the one hand, and of South America on the other. Those of the former, naturally, are found upon the great plateau; those of the latter in the tropical lowlands. Among the main exceptions are the llama and alpaca, the domestic wool-bearing animals of the camel family, and kindred varieties, which do not exist in Mexico, nor are found anywhere in the world outside the highlands of Peru and Bolivia. Indeed, native Mexico, before the introduction of the equine race from Europe, had no beast of burden whatever, such as the llama afforded to the South American aboriginal peoples.

The fauna of the country embraces fifty-two varieties of mammal quadrupeds, including three species of large felidae—the jaguar, the puma, or cougar, and the ocelot, a carnivorous cat-like animal, whose name is derived from the native Mexican word ocelotl. There are five varieties of monkeys in the tropical forests, as well as a sloth. There are forty-three classes of reptiles, including alligators and turtles, and several kinds of venomous serpents, and the great boa-constrictor. Upon the plateau and mountain ranges wolves and wild-cats abound, and the coyote is the wild inhabitant of the desert plains most in evidence. There are several kinds of bears, and the wolf, skunk, bison, and tapir are found.

Mexico cannot be said to offer a field for hunters of big game, and the term "a sportsman's paradise" which is sometimes applied to it, is something of an exaggeration. Nevertheless, there is considerable sport to be had, and certain kinds of game abound. Among animals may be enumerated the peccaries, or javilines, deer, rabbits, hares; of reptiles, alligators, turtles, and iguanas; whilst whales, seals, and sea-lions are encountered upon the Pacific coast. Alligators are numerous in the estuaries of the rivers of both the Gulf and the Pacific sides, as well as turtles and tortoises. Of birds for the sportsman may be mentioned the wild turkey—which, indeed, was introduced to Europe from Mexico—partridges, quail, and wild pigeons. The armadillo, beaver, martin, otter, and others are among the Mexican fauna. Of noxious reptiles and insects the rattlesnake is much in evidence, as well as the tarantula, centipede, alacran, or scorpion, and varieties of ants. Of birds of beautiful plumage the Mexican tropics abound with life, and they are famed for their fine feathers, and as songsters. They are an example of Nature's compensating circumstances; for in the hot lowlands they are more distinguished for their bright plumage than their voice; whilst in the uplands they are of much more modest dress, but higher singing capacities. More than 350 species of birds have been enumerated throughout the country, and among these are fifty varieties of humming-birds, which range throughout the whole colour-scale, from blue and green to scarlet. The zenzontle, or mocking-bird, is a well-known bird in Mexico.

Such are, in brief, the natural conditions of geological structure, climatic conditions, and the organic world consequent thereon, of this varied and interesting land; and having thus observed them we must turn our attention to the human family whose habitat they form—the men and women of Mexico of to-day.



CHAPTER IX THE MEXICAN PEOPLE

Ethnic conditions—Spanish, Mestizos, Indians—Colour-line—Foreign element—The peones—Land tenure—The Spanish people—The native tribes—The Apaches—The Mexican constitution—Class distinctions— Mexican upper class—Courtesy and hospitality—Quixotism of the Mexicans—Idealism and eloquence—General characteristics—Ideas of progress—American anomalies—Haciendas—Sport—Military distinctions—Comparison with Anglo-Saxons—Republicanism—Language— Life in the cities—Warlike instincts—The women of Mexico—Mexican youths—Religious observance—Romantic Mexican damsels—The bull-fights.

The Mexican people are divided for sociological or ethnological purposes into three divisions—the people of purely white European or Spanish descent, those of combined European and native races, and the pure-blooded Indians. The first have been technically termed Criollas, or Creoles, although the designation has, of recent years, been used in a different sense; the second Mestizos, or mixed race; whilst the third, the Indios, are the direct descendants of the peoples who occupied the country in pre-Hispanic times.

The total population is estimated at fifteen million souls, or possibly slightly under. Of this, according to the census of 1900, the people of purely white descent numbered about 19 per cent.; the Mestizos, who may be looked upon as the typical Mexicans of to-day, 43 per cent.; whilst the remaining 38 per cent. were assigned as the proportion for the Indians. The figures and divisions cannot be looked upon, however, as arbitrary or exact. At the present time it is considered that the Mestizo class probably embraces more than half of the total, whilst the real proportion of people of absolutely pure white race is probably much less than described, possibly not more than 10 per cent., as the mixture permeates all classes.