Justin H. Smith - The Mexican-American War (Vol. 1&2)

However, more could be produced than used. The prime requisite was population. So much appeared to be clear; and for that reason, as well as to obtain the profits of the industries and prevent money from going abroad, great efforts were made by independent Mexico to develop manufacturing, which had been prohibited—though not with entire success—by Spain. The year 1830 was a time of golden hopes in this regard. At the instance of Lucas Alamán a grand industrial scheme went into effect, and a bank was founded to promote it by lending public money to intending manufacturers. Cotton fields were to whiten the plains; merino sheep and Kashmir goats to cover the hillsides; mulberry trees to support colonies of silk-worms; imported bees to produce the tons of wax needed for candles; and ubiquitous factories to work up the raw materials. A few men honestly tried to establish plants, but the industry chiefly promoted by the law and the bank was that of prying funds from the national treasury; and when this income failed, as it did in a few years, many half-built mills came to a stop, and much half-installed machinery began to rust. Alamán himself, partner in a cotton factory, became bankrupt in 1841, and the bubble soon burst.7

The manufacturers formed, however, a strong political clique, and in their interest a system not only of protection, but of absolutely prohibiting the importation of numerous articles, was adopted by law. This had the effect of making the people pay dearly for many of their purchases. The farmers, who wished raw materials kept out, had influence too, and were always blocking the scheme of the manufacturers to let raw materials in; and, as the cost of producing and transporting made native goods dear, smuggled merchandise undersold Mexican articles even after paying for the necessary bribery and other expenses. In a word, although certain coarse and bulky things continued to be made in the country, the endeavor to build up an industrial population, support agriculture, and thus doubly strengthen the nation was very superficially planned and very unsuccessfully carried out. Nearly all the better manufactures, a large part of the food, most of the clothing, and substantially all the luxuries came from abroad.7

The business of importing continued to be mainly in Spanish hands for some years after Mexico became independent, but for reasons that will appear in the next chapter the Spaniard had to retire about 1830. The British then obtained the lion’s share; and as they were Protestants they could not, even when they so desired, identify themselves with the nation, and take a responsible share in public affairs. Commerce was not, in fact, a source of strength. A few raw products were exported, but essentially commerce consisted, as was natural, in merely receiving goods from foreigners and letting the foreigners have money in return. Moreover the volume of commerce dwindled notably, like that of all other business. As for retail trade, when the Spaniards had to retire, it fell mainly into Mexican hands; but it was conducted in a small way, the profits were narrow, and the failures were many.7

Even more significant for us, however, than such details were the life and character of the people, and it may be helpful to call back the year 1845 and visit Mexico for a couple of days. First we will stroll along a country road in a fairly typical region. The general aspect is one of semi-wildness, but soon the tops of well-bleached ruins amid the soft green indicate decrepitude instead, suggesting as the national character decay preceding maturity. A long mule team approaches in a waving line, and on a finely equipped horse at the head of it we observe a swarthy man in green broadcloth trousers open on the outside from the knee down, with bright silver buttons in a double row from hip to ankle, and loose linen drawers visible where the trousers open. A closely fitting jacket, adorned with many such buttons and much braid, is turned back at the chin enough to reveal an embroidered shirt; and the costume reaches a climax in a huge sombrero with a wide, rounding brim and high sugar-loaf crown, adorned with tassels and a wide band of silver braid. This gentleman, the arriero , is the railroad king of Mexico, for he and others of his class transport the freight and express. Trust him with anything you please, and it will surely be delivered; but should he be unlucky at cards and out of work, he might rob you the next day.8

A group of Indians meet us, little more human in appearance than the donkeys they drive; and we observe how easily they carry loads on their backs, and how quickly and lightly they march. Yonder we see their huts—pigpens, Americans would suppose; and a little apart from these we notice a stone or adobe house. Certainly there is nothing grand about this dwelling, for it contains only a single room, and that half full of implements, horse furniture, charcoal, provisions and what not; but it affords a home for six or eight persons of the two sexes. Presently the master, though not the owner, of the establishment rides up, prodding his active but light and stubby horse with blunt steel spurs almost as large as the palm of one’s hand, to make a dash for our benefit. Swinging his wife from the saddle-bow the ranchero alights, and we find him to be a short, wiry, muscular person, with a bronzed and rather saturnine countenance but friendly and respectful manners. He wears tough leggings, leather trousers, a small rectangular shawl ( serape ) that falls over his back and breast, allowing his head to protrude through a hole in the middle, and a wide sombrero, while at the saddle-bow hang the inevitable lasso and a bag of corn and jerked beef, one meal a day from which is all he requires. Apparently he does not feel quite at home on the ground, and that is natural, for he spends about half of his waking hours in the saddle. Herdsman, farmer or brigand, according to circumstances, he is also cavalryman at need; and a corps of such fellows, if properly trained and led, would make the best light horse in the world, perhaps. His chief interests in life, however, are gambling and cock-fighting, and he is quite capable of losing all his worldly goods, his wife and even his pony at the national game of monte, and then of lighting a cigarette and sauntering off without a sign of regret.8

Now we approach what may be called a village, but one extremely different from a village in the United States. The great things are a handsome grove and in the midst of it one old church of gray stone, full of saints and relics and ancient plate, with a ragged, stupid Indian crouching on the floor. Near by are two or three ranchero cottages with a group of Indian huts in the distance, and yonder stands a large, rambling edifice of stone with a mighty door and heavily barred windows. From the ends of the building run high walls inclosing several acres, and within the protected space may be seen a number of substantial dwellings and what appear to be storehouses and stables, while far away over hill and plain spreads the hacienda , an estate as large as a county. Finally, on a gentle slope not far distant we observe a monastery with a rich garden behind it, and a fat, contented prior riding sleepily up to its arched gateway through a dozen or two of kneeling aborigines.8

Toward evening we reach the state capital, and as we cross a bridge on the outskirts, we see a crowd of people bathing. Both sexes are splashing and swimming, all as happy as ducks and all entirely nude. Even the presence of strangers does not embarrass the young women, some of whom are decidedly good-looking; and they even try to draw our attention by extra displays of skill. Looking for an inn we discover two lines of low, rickety buildings alternating with heaps of rubbish, fodder and harness. After some efforts a waiter is found and we obtain a room, with a mule already slumbering in one corner of it and all sorts of household litter thrown about. A wretched cot with a rope bottom, a dirty table and an abundance of saints portrayed in Mexican dress help to make the place homelike. The waiter is amiable, and ejects the mule with a great show of indignation; but when we ask for water and a towel his good nature fails. “Oh, what a man,” he cries, flinging up his hands; “What a lunatic, Ave María Purísima; Ha! Ha! Ha! He wants water, he wants a towel; what the devil—! Good-by.” The dining-room is a hot, steamy cell, fitted up with charcoal furnaces; and for viands we are offered plenty of hard beef, chile (pepper) and tortillas (flapjacks of a sort), besides a number of dishes that only a native could either describe or eat. Chile and tortillas appear, however, to be the essentials; and the latter, partly rolled up, serve also as spoons.8