CHAPTER XIV.

 SCULPTURE AND PAINTING IN MEXICO.—NATIONAL SCHOOL OF THE FINE ARTS.—BRIEF HISTORY OF MEXICAN ART.—CELEBRATED PAINTINGS.—"LAS CASAS PROTECTING THE AZTECS."—"THE DEATH OF ATALA."—HOW AN ARTIST MANAGED TO SELL A PICTURE.—FROM ART TO PULQUERIAS.—THE NATIONAL BEVERAGE OF MEXICO.—THE MAGUEY PLANT.—HOW PULQUE IS MADE.—COLLECTING THE SAP.—FERMENTING AGUAMIEL.—DAILY CONSUMPTION OF PULQUE IN THE CITY OF MEXICO.—MANAGEMENT OF THE SHOPS.—ROMANTIC HISTORY OF THE INVENTION OF PULQUE.—MEXICAN POLICE-COURTS.—NOVEL MODE OF TRYING CASES.—THE BELEM PRISON.—CATALOGUE OF OFFENCES AGAINST THE LAW.—AN ADROIT THIEF.—RUNNING THE GANTLET.
From laundries to the fine arts is a step from the practical to the æsthetic. After finishing their account of Mexican domestic service, Frank and Fred accompanied Doctor Bronson in a visit to the National School of Fine Arts, which is commonly spoken of as the Academy of San Carlos. It must not be understood that this was their first visit to this
[Pg 213]
 excellent institution; they had been there several times, and it was their intention to continue to look at the paintings in the Academy whenever they had an hour or two to spare.
 THE LANDING OF COLUMBUS.
Within ten years after the arrival of Cortez a college was founded in the city of Mexico by one of the Franciscan brothers, and to this college departments of music and drawing were attached. This may be considered the parent art school of Mexico, and from it is descended the Academy of Fine Arts as we see it to-day. No great progress was made in art matters until near the end of the sixteenth century, when a Spanish artist, Sebastian Arteaga, came to Mexico, and was shortly followed by Vasquez and Echave, the last-named being accompanied by his wife, who was an accomplished painter, and is traditionally said to have been Echave's teacher.
The seventeenth century brought several artists from Spain, and they did some good work; at the same time native talent began to assert itself, and several artists and sculptors of Indian blood made for themselves lasting names. In the eighteenth century the most noted artist, who was also sculptor and architect, was Tresguerras, a native of Zelaya, in the State of Guanajuato, on the line of the Mexican Central Railway, and he deserves more than passing mention.
 MEXICAN SCULPTURE.—DOOR-WAY OF CHURCH OF SAN JOSÉ.
The Church of Our Lady of Carmen, at Zelaya, was designed by Tresguerras, and is famous throughout Mexico for its beauty and artistic proportions. The tower and dome are especially the admiration of architects and artists, and the whole effect of the structure, whether in a near or a distant view, is most agreeable. The interior is adorned with frescoes and paintings in oil by Tresguerras, and he has been, not inappropriately, styled "the Michael Angelo of Mexico."
[Pg 214]
Frank and Fred gleaned the foregoing information from Mr. Janvier's "Mexican Guide," during their first visit to the Academy, and they also learned from the same excellent authority that the present Academy had its actual beginning in 1779 through a school of engraving established in the mint. The success of the engraving school and the general interest in it caused the director of the mint to seek the permission of the viceroy to establish schools of painting, sculpture, and architecture; and the permission was readily granted. Later the matter was referred to the King, who issued, in December, 1783, an order for the foundation of the Academy. On the 4th of November, 1785, the formal opening of the Academia de las Nobles Artes de San Carlos de la Nueva España took place, and this is the institution which the youths visited on repeated occasions whenever they had any spare time on their hands. It is proper to say that the school was originally opened in the mint, but in 1791 it was removed to the building where it now is.
Like most other institutions of Mexico, it has had many ups and downs, consequent upon the political changes through which the country has passed. At present it has an allowance of about $35,000 annually from the Government, and is regularly a Government affair, its name having been changed in 1868 to the National School of the Fine Arts. Prizes are given for meritorious work by the students, all tuition is free, and there is an average attendance of about one hundred throughout the year. One prize which is specially sought is an allowance of $600 a year for six years to enable the recipient to study art in Italy. Within the last few years night classes have been established for working-people, and have been well attended.
"We will not undertake to give you a list of all the paintings we saw," wrote Frank, "nor even a part of them, as in any event it would be tedious to anybody at a distance. The pictures are arranged in three large galleries and two small ones, and they are grouped together according to their age and the nativity of their painters. One gallery contains paintings by the old masters of Europe, another is devoted to old Mexican masters, and another to pupils of the Academy.
 LAS CASAS PROTECTING THE AZTECS.
"The finest picture in the last-named collection, that of the pupils of the Academy, is by Felix Parra, and is entitled 'Las Casas protecting the Aztecs.' Parra painted it before he had seen any country except Mexico, and he received the first prize at the Academy of Rome on account of the merit displayed in this work. I will not attempt to describe the painting, but send a photograph by which you may judge of it. The coloring is, of course, lost in the photograph, but you can get an idea of the drawing and
[Pg 215]
[Pg 216]
 the sentiment of the picture. Las Casas is represented standing on the steps of a teocalli, and at his feet is the dead body of a Mexican chief, who has been slain by the Spaniards; while an Aztec woman clings imploringly to the robe of the priest.
"The painting is a historic one, and the story it illustrates is this:
"Las Casas was a Spanish prelate who accompanied Columbus to the West Indies and afterwards came to Mexico. He was horrified at the treatment of the natives by their conquerors, and he crossed the ocean no less than twelve times to intercede with the King of Spain in their behalf. He was unsuccessful in nearly all his efforts, though he finally persuaded the Emperor Charles V. to make some effort to redress the wrongs which the Indians were suffering at the hands of the Spaniards. He risked his life on many occasions on behalf of the natives, as we read in Prescott's histories, and when the Emperor offered him the bishopric of Cuzco, one of the richest appointments in the Spanish colonies, he declined it and accepted that of Chiapas, one of the poorest and most ignorant. He died in Madrid in 1566, at the age of ninety-two years.
"Every time we visit the gallery we linger in front of this picture, and are never weary of admiring and studying it. Many good critics pronounce it not only the best painting in the gallery where it hangs, but the best in the entire collection of the Academy. This is high praise, indeed, when we remember that the Academy has works by Leonardo da Vinci, Murillo, Rubens, Correggio, and Velasquez.
 THE DEATH OF ATALA.
"Another fine painting of the modern Mexican school is the 'Death of Atala.' Felix Parra is represented by other works in addition to the Las Casas; one of these is 'The Massacre in the Temple,' which also has historic value. It illustrates the butchery of the natives in the temple by Alvarado, whom Cortez had left at the capital city while he personally went to the coast to meet the ships and troops that had been sent from Cuba to reinforce the invading army. As the history of Mexico was closely identified with the Church down to within twenty years or so, it naturally occurs that nearly all the paintings of former days are of a religious character, just as we find the paintings in the galleries of Europe."
 A SUCCESSFUL ARTIST AT WORK.
One day in their visit to the Academy the youths met a gentleman to whom they had been previously introduced, and one of them asked if the wealthy people of Mexico gave much encouragement to native art.
"I'm sorry to say they do not," was the reply. "It has not yet become the fashion to buy modern paintings, but some of our rich men are setting the example, and as the country becomes developed and more
[Pg 217]
 wealthy, the example may be followed. But just at present the best patrons of art are the pulque shops, and as their patrons are not very critical, it does not require a high talent to meet their wants. In private houses there is a greater demand for huge mirrors than for fine paintings, and the value of the plate-glass mirrors in the city of Mexico is far beyond that of the modern works of art to be found here. Many an artist of fair promise has been obliged to abandon the dream of his life, and obtain a living by painting for the pulquerias, or selling silk and woollens behind the counter of a shop."
The gentleman then told a story of a native artist who had painted a canvas some eight feet by six, representing "The Landing of Columbus." Months and months passed and he could not find a purchaser though he lowered his price to half its original figure; then at the advice of a friend he made a few changes in the ships, costumes, coloring, and scenery, and entitled the picture "Evacuation of Mexico by the French." In less than a week he found a customer who made not the least objection to the price which was set upon the work.
[Pg 218]
The mention of pulquerias naturally drew attention to those establishments, which abound in Mexico as do beer shops in New York. Fred undertook an essay concerning them and the substance in which they deal.
"Pulque is the product of the Agave Mexicana, or maguey plant," wrote the youth, "and a description of Mexico without a reference to it would be like 'Hamlet' without Hamlet. It is the beverage of Mexico as beer is that of Germany and wine the drink of France. Along the line of the railway, as we were coming southward, we passed many fields of maguey, and several times we saw the collectors gathering the juice of the plant for conversion into pulque.
"Nobody knows when pulque was invented, as it was in use here centuries before Cortez was born. There are many fables concerning it, and like most fables of the kind, the discovery of the use which could be made of the juice of the maguey is generally attributed to the gods. One more practicable fable is that a Toltec noble discovered it and sent some of the pulque to the King, by the hand of his daughter, Xochitl. The King was so delighted with the drink and the maiden that he swallowed the former and married the latter, and their son succeeded him as king. This was the beginning of the downfall of the Toltecs and their extinction as a nation,
[Pg 219]
 but the art of making pulque was not lost; the name of the lovely Xochitl has been preserved in the Aztec name of the beverage, ochtl. During our war with Mexico the soldiers under Generals Taylor and Scott drank the liquid, and in attempting to pronounce its Aztec name they generally got no nearer to it than 'cocktail.' They carried the word back to the States, and Doctor Bronson tells us that it is occasionally heard there at this day in clubs and hotels, where it is applied to beverages in which spirits, bitters, and other ingredients are mingled.
 MAGUEY PLANT.
"The maguey belongs to the cactus family of plants, and there are said to be forty varieties of it. Twenty-two yield aguamiel, or honey-water, from which pulque is made, and the others are used for hedges and for making paper, cords, and other things. In former times the natives are said to have had not less than a hundred uses for the maguey plant in addition to its production of pulque. They made paper from the pulp of the leaves, cords and thread from the fibre, needles from the thorns, shingles and troughs from the leaves, and the little clothing they wore was generally made from the thread derived from the maguey. The leaves are sometimes ten feet long by a foot wide, and like the leaves of the other members of the cactus family, they are of great thickness.
"When the maguey plant is about ten years old it sends up a single
[Pg 220]
[Pg 221]
 stalk in the centre which often rises to a height of twenty-five or thirty feet. This stalk is covered with flowers, hundreds and sometimes thousands of them, and they are of a yellowish green color. After blossoming the plant dies, very much as does the sago-tree and some other tropical growths; a single blossoming is all that it is capable of in its lifetime. And here is where the pulque comes in, or, rather, comes out.
 THE TLACHIQUERO.
"The Indians watch the plants closely when the flower-stalk is expected to appear, and just at the right time they cut out the centre of the stem, leaving a hollow as large over as an ordinary washbowl but a good deal deeper. The sap, which was intended to nourish the flower-stalk, flows into this cavity, and flows so rapidly that it must be emptied every few hours. The leaves on one side of the plant are cut away so that the cavity can be reached, and then the tlachiquero, or collector, makes his rounds.
 EXTRACTING AGUAMIEL.
"He is equipped with a gourd open at both ends; inserting the broad end into the cavity, he sucks up the juice (aguamiel), and then deposits it in a pig-skin hanging over his back, or in pig-skins or earthen jars on the back of a donkey.
"The aguamiel is carried to the central station of the establishment, where it is poured into shallow vats of pig or cow skin. There it ferments and becomes pulque, a vile-smelling liquid which is said to taste like stale buttermilk; it is almost always repulsive to the stranger, and sometimes one who comes within smelling distance of pulque for the first time is made ill by it. A good maguey yields from eight to fifteen pints daily, and continues to do so for three or four months; and a good estate of maguey plants is more certain in the revenue it brings to the owner than any other enterprise. The plants thrive in the poorest soil where hardly anything else can live.
"A scientific writer on this subject says: 'An analysis of aguamiel gives glucose, sugar, and water as the principal ingredients; it froths when shaken, gives an abundant precipitate with subacetate of lead, and when filtered the resultant liquor is colorless. Pulque is the product of the fermentation of aguamiel, is an alcoholic, mucilaginous liquid, holding in suspension white corpuscles, which give it its color, and has an odor and taste peculiar to itself. It is more or less sugary according to its strength, and contains about six per cent. of alcohol.'
"Pulque is sent from the estates along the railway in barrels and pig-skins, and the amount consumed in the capital is about 80,000 gallons daily. There is a pulque train daily to the city; we passed it at a side-track, and easily detected its presence by the smell of fermentation.
[Pg 222]
[Pg 223]
"The pulque shops are as discernible to the nose as to the eye; they are numerous in all the cities and large towns, and very properly are under the eyes of the police. There are 820 of these shops in the city of Mexico. They pay a license fee to the Government as do beer and wine shops in European countries, and the law requires that they shall close at 6 p.m.; and, what strikes a New Yorker with astonishment, it is enforced, too. The city derives a revenue of a thousand dollars a day from the pulque brought here for sale, in addition to what it receives for shop licenses; the railway probably gets a thousand dollars also for the daily transportation, and altogether the national drink of Mexico costs a great deal of money.
 A GLASS OF AGUARDIENTE.
"Liquors called mescal and tequila are distilled from pulque, and contain a larger percentage of alcohol. Then there is a stronger liquor, called aguardiente (burning water), which is literally described by its name. Some gentlemen who have tasted it say that it is like swallowing a torch-like procession or a whole collection of Fourth-of-July fireworks."
[Pg 224]
 "NOT CAUGHT YET."
From pulquerias to police-courts is a very natural step, and one which is taken by a good many natives of Mexico. Frank and Fred took it, though not after the Mexican fashion, as their movement was voluntary, while that of the native is performed by invitation, or demand, of the police. The better classes of the population know next to nothing about the police-courts or where they are held, and it was only after a great deal of inquiry that the youths learned where and when to go. The guide who had shown them the sights of the city claimed to be unable to tell them, and when they ascertained for themselves, he was somewhat unwilling to accompany them. It is barely possible that he had been there on his own account altogether too often to make a voluntary visit agreeable.
They found the court in the municipal palace, at one side of the Plaza Mayor. Ascending a staircase, they were shown into a waiting-room, and beyond it there were several smaller rooms. Two or three gentlemen were seated at a table in each of the rooms, and seemed to be busily engaged in discussing something. Frank asked the guide what they were doing.
 A MAGISTRATE.
"One of them is a magistrate," was the reply; "and the others are the lawyers, who are laying a case before him. One is the prosecutor, and the other is for the defence."
"But where are the accused and the policemen?"
"They're down-stairs, or perhaps they haven't got to the palace yet. They don't come into these rooms at all. The magistrate hears the case
[Pg 225]
 through the lawyers, and doesn't have the prisoner brought before him, as you do in your country." On further inquiry the youths learned that the magistrates hear the cases in this way, and decide whether the complaint shall be dismissed, the prisoner let off with a fine, or sent to the Belem prison, at the edge of the city.
Some of the prisoners were, as the guide said, "down-stairs;" but the greater number were in a building separate from the palace, and situated on a narrow street close by. There is a court in the prison building, in which the magistrates hear cases in the same way as at the municipal palace, without seeing the prisoner; they hear the testimony for and against him, and decide accordingly.
At the Belem prison they found another court, where cases were more carefully considered; but they learned from a gentleman, with whom they afterwards talked on the subject, that the Mexican courts are overcrowded
[Pg 226]
 with work, and prisoners often have to wait weeks or months, and even years, before their cases can be heard. A prisoner against whom a serious accusation has been made can never learn when it will be called to trial; his friends are not informed; and the only thing they can do is to watch and wait day after day, or possibly pay heavily to somebody for his influence with the authorities. Matters are better now than previous to the Laws of the Reform, but they are still far from what they should be.
"We judged," said Fred, "that the Belem prison was greatly overcrowded, as the court-yard was full of people, and so were the corridors that overlooked the yard. The prisoners sleep on mats on the floor of the dormitories, which are about 170 feet long. One hundred men lie in a row on the mats along the floor of the dormitory, so that there must be very little room to walk around. The fare of the prisoners consists of twelve ounces of bread daily, one pound of meat, and a bowl of soup. Three times a week they have stewed beans in addition to the other food.
 AN OLD OFFENDER.
"A prisoner whose sentence exceeds one month is compelled to work, but he is paid for his labor; one-half his wages go to his family if he has any, and the rest is saved up by the prison authorities until the man is discharged, when the money is given to him. This seems to me an excellent system, and it should be adopted in our own country. In that case an ex-convict would have something to
[Pg 227]
 live upon for a while, instead of being, as is too often the case, driven into crime to save himself from starvation.
"To show the character of Mexican offences, I will quote from the records of the prison for one month. The whole number of prisoners was 1278, and they were charged with crimes as follows:
"Thefts, 198; fighting, 109; stabbing, serious, 518; stabbing, slight, 313; wounding with sticks or clubs, 140.
"Observe that two-thirds of the number were in prison for the use of the knife, and you get an idea of the propensities of the lower classes of the population.
"We have already mentioned the adroitness of Mexican thieves, and we heard several stories while visiting the prison that confirm what we have heard. There's a saying here that if you drop a coin it will be caught before it reaches the ground. They told us a story about the Chief Magistrate of Mexico City which we were assured was entirely true; it sounds like a 'chestnut,' but is good enough to be repeated. Here it is:
"The magistrate was one day on the street when he remarked to a friend that he had left his watch hanging over the head of his bed at home. In less than an hour a thief was at the door with a fat turkey; he said that it was sent by the magistrate, who wished his wife to send him his watch, which he had left at the head of his bed.
"She sent the watch, and when his Honor came home that night he learned of the trick that had been played. He consoled himself with the reflection that he had a fat turkey for the next Sunday's dinner, and would not be obliged to buy anything for that important meal.
"But the next day an accomplice of the watch-stealer called and said the magistrate had sent him to get the turkey, which they desired to produce in court. The man who stole the watch had just been arrested, and the turkey was needed to secure his conviction, as it was one of the 'properties' in the case. Of course it was promptly sent.
"So the good man lost both his watch and his turkey, and never heard of either of them again."
There is a short road to justice called ley de fuga, which is sometimes travelled in Mexico; it may be translated into "running the gantlet." By Mexican law an officer has the right to shoot a prisoner trying to escape. Sometimes, when bandits or murderers are captured, they are allowed to try to escape, and in their effort to secure their freedom they take the chances of being killed. Recently this disposition was made of seven bandits who murdered a German named Müller in the State of Durango, and then robbed his house, compelling Mrs. Müller to show where the valuables
[Pg 228]
 were kept. They were captured while seated at table in Müller's house after completing the robbery, a party of soldiers happening to arrive there most opportunely. As their conviction and execution were certain, they accepted the offer of the officers to permit them to try the ley de fuga, but not one of them succeeded in escaping.