An exploration of women's involvement in the Latin American Wars of Independence

Author: Frances (Fanny) Calderón de la Barca (née Erskine)

Type of publication: Book

Title: Life in Mexico

Year of publication: 1843

Publisher: University of California Press, California, 1982.

Place created: Mexico City

Language: English

Location of text: The more recent editions of this book are widely available. in University Library, Cambridge

Abstract: The life of a diplomat in Mexico City and beyond during the 1840s. As seen through Calderón de la Barca´s letters home and diaries. 1982 edition includes a preface by William H. Prescott, dated 20 December 1842 and an introduction Woodrow Borah.

Content:
Frances Calderón de la Barca, Life in Mexico, University of California Press, Berkeley, Los Angeles, 1982. pp.73-74 Describes mass in the cathedral Mexico City, in December 1839: ‘Not a soul was in the sacred precincts this morning but miserable léperos, in rags and blankets, mingled with women in ragged rebosos; - at least a sprinkling of ladies with mantillas was so very slight, that I do not think there were half a dozen in all. The floor is so dirty that one kneels with a feeling of horror, and an inward determination to effect as speedy a change of garments afterwards as possible. Besides, many of my Indian neighbours were engaged in an occupation which I must leave to your imagination; in fact, relieving their heads from the pressure of the colonial system, or rather, eradicating and slaughtering the colonists, who swarm there like the emigrant Irish in the United States. I was not sorry to find myself once more in the pure air after mass; and have since been told that, except on particular occasion, and at certain hours, few ladies perform their devotions in the cathedral. I shall learn all these particulars in time.’

p.76 Describes President Bustamente: He looks like a good man, with an honest, benevolent face, frank and simple in his manners, and not at all like a hero. His conversation was not brilliant, indeed I do not know apropos to what, I suppose to the climate, but it chiefly turned on medicine. There cannot be a greater contrast, both in appearance and reality, between him and Santa Anna. There is no lurking devil in his eye. All is frank, open. and unreserved. It is impossible to look into his face without believing him to be an honest and well-intentioned man. An unprincipled but clever writer has said of him, that he has no capacity or superior genius; but that, whether from reflection or from slowness of comprehension, he is always extremely calm in his determination: that, before entering into any project, he enquires or considers deeply as to whether it be just or not; but that once convinced that it is or appears to be so, he sustains his ground with firmness and constancy. He adds, that it suits him better to obey than to command; for which reason he was always so devoted a servant of the Spaniards and of Yturbide. He is said to be a devoted friend, is honest to a proverb, and personally brave, though occasionally deficient in moral energy. He is therefore an estimable man, and one who will do his duty to the best of his ability, though whether he has severity and energy sufficient for these evil days in which it is his lot to govern, may be problematical.’

p.83 Describes her visit to the House of Representatives. There is a full-size image of the Virgin of Guadalupe opposite the presidential chair. But this is the only female presence: ‘No ladies were in the house, myself excepted; which I am glad I was not aware of before going, or I should perhaps have stayed away.’ But she was allowed into the building and stayed to here the president’s speech, ‘made in a low and rather monotonous ton, which in the diplomat’s seat, where we were, was scarcely audible’.

pp.94-95 Manners: ‘It is here considered more polite to say Señorita than Señora, even to married women, and the lady of the house is generally called by her servants ‘La Niña,’ the little girl, even though she be over eighty. This last custom is still more common in Havana where the old negresses, who have always lived in the family, and are accustomed to call their young mistress by this name, never change, whatever be her age.’

p.95 The Marquesa de San Roman. ‘[She] is an old lady who has travelled a great deal in Europe, and is very distinguished for talents and information. She has the Grand Cross of Maria Louisa of Spain, is of a noble Venetian family, and aunt to the Duke of Canizzaro. Her dress was a very rich black Genoa velvet, black blond mantilla, and a very splendid parure of diamonds. She seems in exceedingly delicate health. She and her contemporaries are fast fading away, the last record of the days of Viceroyalty. In their place a new race have started up, whose manners and appearance have little of the vieille cour about them; chiefly, it is said, wives of military men, sprung from the hotbeds of the revolutions, ignorant and full of pretensions, as parvenus who have risen by chance and not by merit must be.’

p.96 She continues to describe the ‘new race of women’, including: ‘The Señora B—a, the wife of a General, extremely rich, and who has the handsomest house in Mexico. Dress of purple velvet, embroidered all over with flowers of white silk, short sleeves, and embroidered corsage; white satin shoes and bas a jour; a deep flounce of Mechlin appearing below the velvet dress, which was short. A mantilla of black blonde, fastened by three diamond aigrettes. Diamond earrings of extraordinary size. A diamond necklace of immense value, and beautifully set. A necklace of pear pearls, valued at twenty thousand dollars. A diamond sévigné. A gold chain going three times around the neck, and touching the knees. On every finger two diamond rings, like little watches. As no other dress was equally magnificent, with her I conclude my description, only observing that no Mexican lady has yet paid me her first morning visit without diamond. They have few opportunities for displaying their jewels, so that were it not on the occasion of some such morning visit of etiquette, the diamonds would lie in their cases, wasting their serene rays in darkness.’

pp.99-100 La Güera Rodríguez. ‘A very remarkable character, well known here by the name of La Güera (the fair) Rodriguez, said to have been many years ago celebrated by Humboldt as the most beautiful woman he had seen in the whole course of his travels. Considering the lapse of time which has passed since that distinguished traveller visited these parts, I was almost astonished when her card was sent up with a request for admission, and still more so to find that in spite of years and of the furrows that it pleases Time to plough in the loveliest faces, La Güera retains a profusion of fair curls without one gray hair, a set of beautiful white teeth, very fine eyes, and great vivacity. Her sister, the Marquesa of Juluapa, lately dead, is said to have been also a women of great talent and extraordinary conversational powers; she is another of the ancient noblesse who has dropped off. The physician who attended her in her last illness, a Frenchman of the name of Plan, in great repute here, has sent in a bill to her executors of ten thousand dollars, which, although it does not excite any great astonishment, the family refuse to pay, and there is a lawsuit in consequence. The extortions of medical men in Mexico, especially of foreign physicians, have arrived at such a height, that a person of moderate fortune must hesitate before putting himself into their hands. A rich old lady in delicate health, and with no particular complaint, is a surer fund for them than a silver mine.
I found La Güera very agreeable, and a perfect living chronicle. She is married to her third husband, and had three daughters, all celebrated beauties; the Countess de Regla, who died in New York, and was buried in the cathedral there; the Marquesa de Guadalupe, also dead, and the Marquesa de A—a, now a handsome widow. We spoke of Humboldt, and talking of herself as of a third person, she related to me all the particulars of his first visit, and his admiration of her; that she was then very young, though married and the mother of two children, and that when he came to visit her mother, she was sitting in a corner where the baron did not perceive her; until talking very earnestly on the subject of cochineal, he inquired if he could visit a certain district where there was a plantation of nopals. ‘To be sure,’ said La Güera from her corner; ‘we can take M. de Humboldt there;’ whereupon he first perceiving her, stood amaze, and at length exclaimed, ‘Valgame Dios! Who is that girl?’ Afterwards he was constantly with her, and more captivated, it is said, by her wit than by her beauty, considering her a sort of western Madame de Stael; all which leads me to suspect that the grave traveller was considerable under the influence of her fascinations, and that either mines nor mountains, geography nor geology, petrified shells nor alpenkalkstein, had occupied him to the exclusion of a slight stratum of flirtation. It is a comfort to think that ‘sometimes even the great Humboldt nods.’
One of La Güera’s stories is too original to be lost. A lady of high rank had died in Mexico, her relatives undertook to commit her to her last resting-place, habited according to the then prevailing fashion, in her most magnificent dress, that which she had worn at her wedding. This dress was a wonder of luxury, even in Mexico. It was entirely composed of the finest lace, and the flounces were made of a species of point which cost fifty dollars a vara (the Mexican yard). Its equal was unknown. It was also ornamented and looped up at certain intervals with bows of ribbons very richly embroidered in gold. In this dress, the Condesa de – was laid in her coffin, thousands of dear friends crowding to view her beautiful costume de mort, and at length she was placed in her tomb, the key of which was entrusted to the sacristan. From the tomb to the opera is a very abrupt transition; nevertheless, both have a share in this story. A company of French dancers appeared in Mexico, a twentieth-rate ballet, and the chief danseuse was a little French damsel, remarkable for the shortness of her robes, her coquetry , and her astonishing pirouettes. On the night of a favourite ballet, Mademoiselle Pauline made her entrée in a succession of pirouettes, and poising on her toe, looked around for approbation, when a sudden thrill of horror, accompanied by a murmur of indignation, pervaded the assembly. Mademoiselle Pauline was equipped in the very dress in which the defunct countess had been buried! Lace, point flounces, gold ribbons; impossible to mistake it.’

The dancer pleaded innocent; she’d bought the dress from a French modiste in Mexico City. This proved to be the sacristan of San --. He was arrested and thrown into prison. After this the magnificent dresses were substituted for plain clothes before the tombs were placed in the vaults, to take temptation away from the sacristans.

pp.108-110 Calderón was shocked to find that Mexican women often received visitors to their homes in a state of ‘undress’. (She later realised that it was she who was at fault as she called on women before the socially accepted appointed hour.) Describes women: ‘On first arriving from the United States, where an ugly women is a phoenix, one cannot fail to be struck at the first glance with the general absence of beauty in Mexico. It is only by degrees that handsome faces begin to dawn upon us; but, however, it must be remarked that beauty without colour is apt to be less striking and to make less impression on us at first. The brilliant complexion and fine figure of an English women strike everyone. The beauty of expression and finely chiselled features of a Spaniard steal upon us like a soft moonlight, while a French woman, however plain, has so graceful a manner of saying agreeable things, so charming a tournure, such a piquant way of managing her eyes, and even her mouth, that we think her a beauty after half an hour’s acquaintance, and even lose our admiration for the quiet and highbred, but less graceful Anglaise. The beauty of the women here consist in superb black eyes, very fine dark hair, a beautiful arm and hand, and small, well-made feet. The defects are, that they are frequently too short and too fat, that their teeth are often bad, and the complexion not the clear olive of the Spaniards, nor the glowing brown of the Italians, but a bilious-looking yellow. Their notion of inserting the foot into a shoe half an inch shorter, ruins the foot, and destroys their grace in walking, and, consequently, in every movement. This fashion is, fortunately, beginning to fall into disuse. It is therefore evident that when a Mexicana is endowed with white teeth and a fine complexion, when she has not grown too fat, and when she does not torture her small foot to make it smaller, she must be extremely handsome. The general carelessness of their dress in the morning is, however, another great drawback to beauty. A woman without stays, with uncombed hair and rebosos, had need to be very lovely I, if she retain any attraction at all. This indolence, indeed, is going out of fashion, especially among the younger part of the community, owing, perhaps, to their more frequent intercourse with foreigners, though it will probably be long before the morning at home is not considered a privileged time and place for dishabille. Notwithstanding, I have made many visits where I found the whole family in a perfect state of order and neatness, but I have observed that there the fathers, and what is more important, the mothers, had travelled in Europe, and established a new order of things on their return.
Upon the whole, the handsomest women here are not Mexicans, that is, not born in the capital, but in the provinces. From Puebla, and Jalapa and Vera Cruz, we see many distinguished by their brilliant complexions and fine teeth, and who are taller and more graceful than those born in the city of Mexico; precisely as in Spain, where the handsomest women in Madrid are said to be those born out of it.
The common Indians, whom we see every day bringing in their fruit and vegetables to market, are, generally speaking, very plain, with an humble, mild expression of countenance, very gentle, and wonderfully polite in their manners to each other; but occasionally, in the lower classes, one sees a face and form so beautiful, that we might suppose such another was the Indian who enchanted Cortes; with eyes and hair of extraordinary beauty, a complexion dark but glowing, with the Indian beauty of teeth like the driven snow, together with small feet and beautifully shaped hands and arms, however imbrowned by sun and toil. In these cases it is more probable that, however Indian in her appearance, there must have been some intermarriages in former days between her progenitors and the descendants of the conquerors. We also occasionally observe very handsome Rancheritas, wives or daughters of the farmers, riding in front of their farm-servants on the same horse, with the white teeth and fine figures which are preserved by the constant exercise that country women must perforce take, whatever be their natural indolence, while the early fading beauty of the higher classes, the decay of teeth, and the over-corpulency so common amongst them, are no doubt the natural consequence of a want of exercise and of injudicious food. There is no country in the world where so much animal food is consumed, and there is no country in the world where so little is required. The consumers are not the Indians, who cannot afford it, but the better classes, who generally eat meat three times a day. This, with the quantities of chile and sweetmeats, in a climate which every one complains of as being irritating and inflammatory, probably produces those nervous complaints which are here so general, and for which constant hot baths are the universal and agreeable remedy.
In point of amiability and warmth of manner, I have met with no woman who can possibly compete with those in Mexico, and it appears to me that women of all other countries will appear cold and stiff by comparison, To strangers this is an unfailing charm, and it is to be hoped that whatever advantages they may derive from their intercourse with foreigners, they may never lose this graceful cordiality, which forms so agreeable a contrast with English and American frigidity.’

p.116 Describes the Paséo de Bucarelli (named after Viceroy Bucarelli), ‘a long and broad avenue bounded by trees’ on a fiesta day.
‘This Paséo is the Mexican Prado or Hyde Park [...but] there is no walking, which in Mexico is considered wholly unfashionable; and though a few ladies in black gowns and mantillas do occasionally venture forth on foot very early to shop or to attend mass, the streets are so ill kept, the pavements so narrow, he crowd so great, and the multitude of léperos in rags and blankets so annoying, that all these inconveniences, added to the heat of the sun in the middle of the day, form a perfect excuse for their non-appearance in the streets of Mexico.
In the Alameda, however, which is so pretty and shady, it is very agreeable to walk; but though I have gone there frequently in the morning, I have met but three ladies on foot, and of these two were foreigners. After all, everyone has feet, but ladies alone have carriages, and there may be a mixture of aristocracy and indolence which prevents the Mexican Doñas from profaning the soles of their feet by a contact with their mother earth.’
p.117 ‘Smoking amongst ladies in the higher classes is going very much out of fashion, and is rarely practised openly except by elderly or at least married ladies. In a secondary class, indeed, young and old inhale the smoke of their cigaritos without hesitation, but when a custom begins to be considered vulgar, it will hardly subsist another generation. Unfeminine as it is, I do not think it looks ungraceful to see a pretty woman smoke.’

p.118 Women in combat: Calderón witnesses a murder. A group of lower class men and women were talking, laughing sometimes arguing and hitting each other
‘Suddenly, [...] a man, darted out from amongst the others, and tried to escape by clambering over the low wall which supports the arches of the aqueduct. Instantly, and quite coolly, another man followed him, drew his knife and stabbed him in the back. The man fell backwards with a groan, upon which a woman of the party, probably the murderer’s wife, drew out her knife, and stabbed the man several times to the heart, the others, meanwhile, neither speaking nor interfering, but looking on with folded arms, and their usual placid smile of indifference.’ The man and woman tried to escape, but were arrested by soldiers.

pp.119-120 Describes a visit to the Colegio Vizcaino, founded by Spanish charities, from Biscay province.

‘The object of this college is to provide for the education of the children of the Spaniards, especially for the descendants of Biscayans, in Mexico; a certain number being admitted upon application to the directors. There are female teachers in all the necessary branches, such as reading, writing, sewing, arithmetic, etc.; but besides this, there is a part of the building with a separate entrance, where the children of the poor, of whatever country are educated gratis. These spend the day there, and go home in the evening. The others are kept upon the plan of a convent, and never leave the institution while they belong to it; but the building is so spacious and airy, with its great galleries, and vast court and fine fountains, garden and spacious azotea, that the children are perfectly well off. There are portieres and sisters, pretty much as in a convent; together with an old respectable Rectora; and the most perfect order and cleanliness prevails through the whole establishment. We first visited the poor scholars, passing through the large halls where they sat with their teachers, divided into classes, sewing, writing, reading, embroidering, or casting up accounts, which last accomplishment must, I think, be sorely against the Mexican genius. One of the teachers made a little girl present me with a hair chain she had just completed. Great order and decorum prevailed. Amongst the permanent scholars in the upper part of the institution, there are some who embroider astonishingly well- surplices, altar hangings, in shirt, all the church vestments in gold or silk. In the room where these are kept are the confessionals for the pupils. The priests are in a separate room, and the penitents kneel before the grating which separates the two apartments. All the sleeping-rooms are scrupulously neat and clean, with two green painted beds in each, and a small parlour off it, and frequently ornamented with flowers and birds. The girls are taught to cook and iron and make themselves generally useful, thus being fitted to become excellent wives to respectable men in their own rank of life.’

p.121 (Same school) describes the writing class: ‘That of the elder girls was generally bad, probably from their having entered the college late in life. That of the younger ones was much more tolerable. We saw some really beautiful specimens of embroidery.’
They gather around a piano and ‘some of our party’ sing and play. Calderón sang with two young women who ‘had fine voices , but no notion of what they were singing’. Calderón explained that one of them, a pretty girl, ‘is living in a convent, having been placed there by her novio, to keep her out of harm’s way till he is prepared to give her his hand’. She quotes two ‘amusing verses of the Jota Arragonesa’ that her friend, the Señora C-- sang: ‘A poor man met with a sixpence,
And for joy he gave up the ghost,
And in the troubles of death,
Even his sixpence was lost.
The woman who loves two at once,
Knows what is discreet and right
Since if one of her candles goes out,
Still the other remains alight, etc.’

pp.141-142 Describes a visit to the church of Santa Teresa, ‘La Antigua’, Mexico City, during Holy Week, which was built on the site of Moctezuma’s palace. ‘In 1830 a bust of stone was found in the yard of the convent, which the workmen were digging up. Don Lucas Alaman, then Minister of Exterior Relations, offered a compensation to the nuns for the curious piece of antiquity which they gladly gave up to the government, on who account he acted. It is said to be the idol goddess of the Indians, Centeotl, the goddess of medicines and medicinal herbs.’

pp.145-146 Describes women in the Zócalo, on Good Friday:
‘The whole square, from the cathedral to the Portales, and from the Monte Pio to the palace, was covered with thousands and tens of thousands of figures, all in their gayest dresses, and as the sun poured his rays down on their gaudy colours, they looked like armies of living tulips. Here was to be seen a group of ladies, some with black gowns and mantillas; others, now that their church-going duty was over, equipped in velvet or satin, with their hair dressed alas! How they were dressed! Long velvet gowns trimmed with blonde, diamond earrings, high French caps befurbelowed with lace and flowers, or turbans with plumes of feathers. Now and then the head of a little thing that could hardly waddle alone, might have belonged to an English dowager-duchess in her opera-box. Some had extraordinary bonnets, also with flowers and fathers, and as they toddled along, top heavy, one would have thought they were little old women, till a glimpse was caught of their lovely little faces and black eyes. Now and then a little girl, simply dressed with a short frock, and long black hair plaited down and uncovered, would trip along, the very model of grace amongst the small caricatures. The children here are generally beautiful, their features only too perfect and regular for the face ‘to fulfil the promise of its spring’. They have little colour, with swimming black or hazel eyes, and long lashes resting on the clear pale cheek, and a perfect mass of fine dark hair of the straight Spanish or Indian kind plaited down behind.
As a contrast to the Señoras, with their over-dressed beauties, were the poor Indian women, trotting across the square, their black hair plaited with dirty red ribbon, a piece of woollen cloth wrapped about them, and a little mahogany baby hanging behind, its face upturned to the sky, and its head going jerking along, somehow without its neck being dislocated. The most resigned expression on earth is that of an Indian baby. All the groups we had seen promenading the street the day before were here collected by hundreds; the women of the shopkeeper class, or it may be lower, in their smart white embroidered gowns, with their white satin shoes, and neat feet and ankles, and rebosos or bright shawls thrown over their heads; the peasants and countrywomen, with their short petticoats of two colours, generally scarlet and yellow (for they are most anti-quakerish in their attire), thin satin shoes and lace-trimmed chemises, or bronze-coloured damsels, all crowned with flowers, strolling along with their admirers, and tingling their light guitars. And above all, here and there, a flashing Poblana, with a dress of real value and much taste, and often with a face and figure of extraordinary beauty, especially the figure; large and yet élancée, with a bold coquettish eye, and a beautiful little brown foot, shown off by the white satin shoe; the petticoat of her dress frequently fringed and embroidered in real massive gold, and a reboso either shot with gold, or a bright-coloured China crepe shawl, coquettishly thrown over her head. We saw several whose dresses could not have cost less than five hundred dollars.
Add to this motley crowd, men dressed a la Mexicaine, with their large ornamental hats and sarapes, or embroidered jackets, sauntering along, smoking their cigars, léperos in rags, Indians in blankets, officers in uniform, priests in their shovel hats, monks of every order; Frenchmen exercising their wit upon the passers-by; Englishmen looking cold and philosophical; Germans gazing through their spectacles, mild and mystical, Spaniards seemingly pretty much at home, and abstaining from remarks; and it may be conceived that the scene at least presented variety.

pp.149-150 ‘I have some intention of giving a series of weekly soirées, but am assured that they will not succeed, because hitherto such parties have failed. As a reason, is given the extravagant notions of the ladies in point of dress, and it is said that nothing but a ball where they can wear jewels, and a toilet therewith consistent, will please them; that a lady of high rank who had been in Madrid, having proposed simple tertulias and white muslin dresses, half the men in Mexico were ruined that year by the embroidered French and India muslins bought by their wives during this reign of simplicity; the idea of a plain white muslin, a dress worn by the lépera, never having struck them as possible. Nevertheless we can but make an attempt. […] On Monday we gave a Tertulia, which, notwithstanding all predictions, went off remarkably well, and consisted of nearly all the pleasantest people in Mexico. We had music, dancing, and cards, and at three in the morning the German cotillon was still in full vigour. Everyone was disposed to be amused, and, moreover, the young ladies were dressed very simply; most of them in plain white muslins. There was but a sprinkling of diamonds , and that chiefly among the elderly part of the community. Still it is said that the novelty alone induced them to come, and that weekly soirées will not succeed. We shall try.’

pp.152-154 Describes a visit to the Encarnacion, ‘the most splendid and richest convent in Mexico, excepting perhaps la Concepcion’. She describes the convent as spacious and magnificent: ‘This convent is in fact a palace.’ There’s a luxurious garden, and it is spotlessly clean: ‘Each nun has a servant, and some have two; for this is not one of the strictest orders. The convent is rich; each novice at her entrance pays five thousand dollars into the common stock. There are about thirty nuns and ten novices. The prevailing sin in a convent generally seems to be pride; ‘The pride that apes humility’.’
She nonetheless describes the novices as ‘poor little entrapped things! who really believe they will be let out at the end of the year if they should grow tired’. She notes that the two eldest nuns are sisters, and that it is unusual to allow sisters to stay together. They have been there since they were eight years old. Some of the women were ‘handsome’, but they were ‘rather exceptions to the general rule’.

p.173 ‘It appears to me, that amongst the young girls here there is not that desire to enter upon the cares of matrimony, which is to be observed in many other countries. The opprobious epithet of ‘old maid’ is unknown. A girl is not the less admired because she has been ten or a dozen years in society; the most severe remark made on her is that she is ‘hard to please’. No one calls her passée, or looks out for a new face to admire. I have seen no courting of the young men either in mothers or in daughters; no match making mammas, or daughters looking out for their own interests.’

p.182 La Guera La Guera Rodríguez’s daughter is married to the Count de Regla.

p.183 On a visit to Real del Monte: ‘Don Lucas Alaman went to England, and raised, as if by magic, the enthusiasm of the English’ for them to invest in mining.

pp.197-199 Described trouble with galopinas, kitchen maids: ‘the only one who brought a first-rate character with her, robbed the housekeeper’.
‘One of the most disagreeable customs of the women servants, is that of wearing their long hair hanging down at its full length, matted, uncombed, and always in the way.’
She also disapproves of the reboso as it hides ‘untidiness, uncombed hair and raggedness’.

p.198 ‘As for taking a woman-cook in Mexico, one must have strong nerves and a good appetite to eat what she dresses, however palatable, after having seen her. One look at her flowing locks, one glance at her reboso, et c’est fini. And yet the Mexican servants have their good qualities, and are a thousand times preferable to the foreign servants one finds in Mexico’

p.199 ‘Dirty as the women servants are, and notwithstanding the enormous size of Mexican houses, and Mexican families, the houses themselves are, generally speaking, the perfection of cleanliness.’

p.199 She describes her friendship with a nun, who she has seen through a grating. ‘At the age of eighteen, contrary to the wishes of her family, she took the veil and declares she has never repented of it.’
‘I have now seen three nuns take the veil; and, next to a death, consider it to be the saddest event that can occur in this nether sphere; yet the frequency of these human sacrifices is not so strange as it might at first appear. A young girl, who knows nothing of the world, who, as it too frequently happens, has at home neither amusement or instruction, and no society abroad, who from childhood is under the dominion of her confessor, and who firmly believes that by entering a convent she becomes sure of heaven; who moreover finds there a number of companions of her own age, and of older women who load her with praises and caresses – it is not, after all, astonishing that she should consent to insure her salvation on such easy terms.

Add to this the splendour of the ceremony, of which she is the sole object; the cynosure of all approving eyes. A girl of sixteen finds it hard to resist all this. I am told that more girls are smitten by the ceremony, than by anything else, and am inclined to believe it, from the remarks I have heard made on these occasions by young girls in my vicinity. What does she lose? A husband and children? Probably she has seen no one who has touched her heart.’

pp.202-212 The ceremony of taking the veil: ‘The future nun was seated beside her godmother, and in the midst of all her friends and relations, about thirty in all.
She was arrayed in pale blue satin, with diamonds, pearls, and a crown of flowers. She was literally covered in blonde and jewels; and her face was flushed as well it might be, for she had passed the day taking leave of her friends at a fete they had given her, and had then, according to custom, been paraded through the town in all her finery.’
‘The nun kept laughing every now and then in the most unnatural and hysterical manner, as I thought, apparently to impress us with the conviction of her perfect happiness. [...] This girl was very young, but by no means pretty, [...] and perhaps a knowledge of her own want of attraction may have caused the world to have few charms for her.’

The nun reappears ‘disrobed of her profane dress, and covered over with a black cloth. [...] She was now dead to the world [...] her attempt at a smile was truly painful.’

‘When the sermon was concluded [...] the heroine of the day came forward and stood before the grating to take her last look of this wicked world.’

p.205 ‘In the Convent of the Incarnation, I saw another girl sacrificed in a similar manner. She was received there without a dowry, on account of the exceeding fineness of her voice. She little thought what a fatal gift it would prove to her.’

p.206 ‘I had almost made up my mind to see no more such scenes, which, unlike pulque and bull-fights, I dislike more and more upon trial; when we received an invitation, which was not east to refuse, but was more painful to accept, being acquainted, though slightly, with the victim.’

p.207 She describes ‘the victim’s’ mother as ‘pale and sad, her eyes almost extinguished with weeping’.

p.208 Calderón was told that the girl was going into the nunnery at the instigation of a confessor and against her mother’s wishes. ‘The girl herself was now very pale, but evidently resolved to conceal her agitation and the mother seemed as if she could shed no more tears quite exhausted with weeping.’ Her younger sisters were all in tears.

p.209 ‘the most terrible thing to witness was the last, straining anxious look which the mother gave her daughter through the grating. She had seen her child pressed into the arms of strangers, and welcomed to her new home. She was no longer hers. All the sweet ties of nature had been rudely severed, and she had been forced to consign her, in the very bloom of youth and beauty, [...] to a living tomb. Still, as long as the curtain had not fallen, she could gaze upon her, as one on whom, though dead, the coffin-lid is not closed.’
‘Suddenly, and without any preparation,, down fell the black curtain like a pall, and the sobs and tears of the family broke forth. One beautiful little child was carried out almost in fits. Water was brought to the poor mother. [...] ‘I declare’, said the Countess to me, wiping her eyes, ‘it is worse than a marriage’. I expressed my horror at the sacrifice of a girl so young, that she could not possibly have known her own mind. Almost all the ladies agreed with me, especially all who had daughters, but many of the old gentlemen were of a different opinion. The young men were decidedly of my way of thinking; but many young girls, who were conversing together, seemed to envy their friend, who had looked so pretty and graceful, and ‘so happy’.’

p.221 She shares a carriage with La Guera Rodríguez to a fiesta in San Antonio.

p.223 -224 Describes newspapers Cosmopolitana, published twice weekly, is ‘well written’. The Spanish newspaper, Hesperia, is ‘well written’. The Mosquito is ‘so called from its stinging sarcasms’. ‘Now and then another with a new title appears, like a shooting star, but, from want of support, or from some other motive, is suddenly extinguished.’

‘Enlightened individuals like Don Lucas Alaman and Count Cortina have published newspapers, but not for any length of time.’ Describes Cortina’s Zurriago and Mono as ‘very witty and brilliant’.

She describes the Mexican monthly review, El Mosaico Megicano, as having mainly translated works, but includes ‘very valuable’ scientific articles by J.M. Bustamente and ‘brilliant’ articles by Count Cortina. The Spanish General Orbegoso also contributes. It sometimes includes articles about Mexican natural history and biography, ‘unedited documents’ discussing Mexican antiquities, and the occasional ‘poetical gem’ that is ‘exceedingly beautiful’. ‘This review is one great means of spreading knowledge, at least among the better classes; but I understand that the editor, Don Ygnacio Cumplido, a very courteous, intelligent man, complains that it does not pay.’

p.224 She comments on the lack of libraries and the high price of books in Mexico: ‘There is no diffusion of useful knowledge among the people; neither cheap pamphlets nor cheap magazines written for their amusement or instruction; but this is less owing to want of attention to their interests on the part of many good and enlightened men, than to the unsettled state of the country; for the blight of civil war prevents the best systems from ripening.’

pp.232-233 Women’s education: ‘The Mexican señoras and señoritas write, read, play a little, sew, and take care of their houses and children. When I say they read, I mean they know how to read; when I say they write, I do not mean they can always spell; and when I say they play, I do not assert that they have generally a knowledge of music. [...] The climate inclines every one to indolence, both physically and morally. [...] There are [no schools] that can deserve the name, and no governesses. Young girls can have no emulation, for they never meet. [...] The children generally appear to have an extraordinary disposition for music and drawing, yet there are few girls who are proficient in either. When they are very young, they occasionally attend the schools, where boys and girls read in common, or any other accomplishment that old women can teach them; but at twelve they are considered too old to attend these promiscuous assemblages, and masters are got for drawing and music to finish their education. [...] It is frequently the case that the least well-informed girls are the children of the cleverest men, who, in keeping with the customs of their forefathers, are content if they confess regularly, attend church constantly, and can embroider and sing a little.’

She notes that families who have travelled abroad, tend to give some instruction to their daughters, but ‘this desultory system has little real influence on the minds of the children’.

Apart from their prayer books, Calderón doubts if many Mexican females over the age of 14 read a book in a year.
‘But if a Mexican girl is ignorant, she rarely shows it. They generally have the greatest tact; never by any chance wandering out of their depth or betraying by word or sign that they are not well informed of the subject under discussion. Though seldom graceful, they are never awkward, and always self-possessed. They have plenty of natural talent, and where it has been thoroughly cultivated , no woman can surpass them.’

p.234 She quotes a preface to Calendario de las Señoritas Mejicanas, by Galvan (no further details), that she describes as ‘very amusing’: ‘To none better than to Mexican ladies, can I dedicate this mark of attention - (obsequio). Their graceful attractions well deserve any trouble that may have been taken to please them. Their bodies are as graceful as the palms of the desert, their hair black as ebony, or golden as the rays of the sun, gracefully waves over their delicate shoulders; their glances are like the peaceful light of the moon. The Mexican ladies are not so white as the Europeans, but their whiteness is more agreeable to our eyes. Their words are soft, leading our hearts by gentleness, in the same manner as in their moments of just indignation they appal and confound us. Who can resist the magic of their song, always sweet, always gentle, and always natural? Let us leave to foreign ladies (las ultra-marinas) these affected and scientific manners of singing; here nature surpasses art, as happens in everything, notwithstanding the cavillings of the learned.’
And what shall I say of their souls? I shall say that in Europe the minds are more cultivated, but in Mexico the hearts are more amiable. [...] Their passions are seldom tempestuous, and even then they are kindled and extinguished easily. [...] Modesty is painted in their eyes, and modesty is the greatest and most irresistible fascination of their souls. In short, the Mexican ladies are destined to serve as our support while we travel through the sad desert of life.’
The editor ‘submissively entreats’ Mexican women ‘to receive with benevolence this small tribute due to their enchantments and their virtues’.

p.235 Calderón describes how a few families ‘of high rank’, that tend to be ‘allied by birth or connected by marriage’ meet frequently to compensate for the lack of schools and governesses. ‘The fathers are generally men of talent and learning, and the mothers, women of the highest respectability, to whose name no suspicion can be attached.’ (p.237) If their sons are to receive a good education, ‘it is necessary to send them abroad’.

p.235 Calderón notes that there’s much loyalty amongst friends and neighbours, and although liaisons exist, ‘as long as a woman attends church regularly, is a patroness of charitable institutions, and gives no scandal by her outward behaviour, she may do pretty much as she pleases.’

p.258 Quotes Madame de Stael’s answer to the comment ‘women have nothing to do with politics’ to justify why she’s writing about politics at the time of the federalists (Gómez Farias’s seizure of power in 1840. ‘That may be, but when a woman’s head is about to be cut off, it is natural she should ask why?’

p.268 She notes that ‘almost all Mexican women’ are well informed about politics. They possess ‘practical knowledge, the best of all, like a lesson in geography given by travelling’.

p.272 One Sunday, also a fiesta, Calderón remarks, with regret, ‘there are a great many women quite as tipsy as the men, returning home after the fete, and increasing the distance to their village, by taking a zigzag direction through the streets’.

p.294 Comments that a widow was running a hacienda five leagues from Santiago. She ‘manages the farm, and educates her [eight] children to the best of her ability’.

p.301 She p out that her tertulia on 19 December 1840 ‘was very crowded; and there was a great deal of music and dancing. These weekly soirées are decidedly successful, and the best families in Mexico unite there without etiquette, which we were told it was impossible to bring about…’

p.306 ‘We had a very crowded party last evening [26 December], I think the best we have had yet, a fact I mention, because I triumph in my opinion that these weekly parties would succeed in Mexico having proved correct.’

p.308 Mentions another 3 weekly soirées in January 1841.

p.343 Re women smoking (in Puebla): ‘The ladies smoke more, or at least more openly, than in Mexico; but they have so few amusements, they deserve more indulgence.’ She notes 11 convents: ‘Taking the veil is as common as being married.’

p.354 The soirées were suspended for 6 weeks due to lent.

pp.355-360 Her comments on Mexico’s ‘distinguished men’. Bustamente, ‘an honest man and a brave soldier’; Santa Anna, ‘an acute general, active and aspiring, whose name has prestige, whether for good or evil, that no other possesses’. General Victoria, ‘a plain, uneducated, well-intentioned man, brave and enduring’.
She describes José Eduardo Gorostiza, Carlos Bustamente, Andrés Quintana Roo, Lucas Alamán, General Moran, Señor Neri del Barrio, Count de Casaflores, Señor Fagoaga, Don José Valentín, Don Francisco Tagle, and claims (p.360): ‘Nearly all these, at least those who are married, have had the good fortune to unite themselves with women who are either their equals or superiors, in not in education, in goodness, elevation of sentiment and natural talent.

p.373 Describes women on Good Friday: ‘I observed all the women in tears as [the padre] described the Virgin’s grief, the torments of the crucifixion, the indignities that the Saviour had suffered. All at once he beheld in a loud voice, ‘Draw back the veil, and let us behold him!’ The curtain was drawn, and the Saviour crucified appeared. Then the sobs of the women broke forth. They clasped their hands, beat their breasts and groaned, while the soldiers who stood below the cross clashed their swords, and one of them struck the body with a lance. T the same time the Virgin bowed her head, as if in grief. Unfortunately I was near enough to see how this was effected, which peep behind the scenes greatly diminished the effect.’ The women ‘sobbed violently’ when the body is borne away.

p.377 Describes mestizos as ‘the handsomest race in Mexico’. Then looks at the caste-system. ‘1st the Gachupinos, or Spaniards born in Europe; 2nd, the Creoles, that is whites of European family born in America; 3rd, the Mestizos; 4th, the Mulattoes, descendents of whites and negroes, of whom there are few; 5th, the Zambos, descendents of negroes and Indians, the ugliest race in Mexico; 6th, the Indians; and 7th, the remains of the African negroes.

p.378 ‘The rich Indian women preferred marrying their Spanish conquerors than allying themselves with the degraded remnant of their countrymen.’
‘Under an appearance of stupid apathy [the Indians] veil a great depth of cunning.[...] If it were not for a little moustache, which they frequently wear on the upper lip, there would be scarcely any difference between the faces of men and women.’

p.382 ‘We saw a horribly ugly man today, and were told he was a lobo, the name given here to the Zambos; who are the most frightful human beings that can be seen. La Guera Rodríguez told us that on an estate of hers, one woman of that race was so fearfully hideous, the priest had been obliged to desire her to remain at home, because she distracted the attention of the congregation!’

p.405 Describes at soirée at the Minister’s. ‘Madame Castellan and her tenor were there’ and she sang ‘several airs’ with ‘much expression’.

pp.420-421 Likens the current revolution (2/9/1841) in Mexico to a ‘game of chess’: ‘To understand the state of the board, it is necessary to explain the position of the four principal pieces -- Santa Anna, Bustamente, Paredes and Valencia. [...] Santa Anna in Perote, hesitating whether to advance or retreat, and, in fact, prevented from doing either by the vicinity of General Torrejon. Paredes in Queretaro, with the other revolted generals. Valencia in the citadel of Mexico with his pronunciados; while Bustamente, with generals Almonte and Canalizo, the mark against which all these hostile operations are directed, is determined, it is said, to fight to the last.’

p.425 States current opinions: ‘Bustamente, Santa Anna and Valencia are all equally unpopular’ and that Mexicans want ‘the immediate convocation of a Constitutional Congress [...with] a provisional president.’

p.429 Describes Doña Margarita, probably of Tlanapantla, near San Xavier, about 3 leagues from Mexico City, ‘a tall, noble-looking Indian [...] a mountaineer by birth, and now a rich widow, possessing land and flocks, though living in apparent poverty.’ She uses most of her money to educate poor orphans: ‘She takes them into her house, brings them up as her own children, has them bred to some useful employment, and when they are old enough, married. If it is a boy, she chooses a wife for him from amongst the girls of the mountains where she was born, who she says are generally ‘less corrupted’ than the girls of the village. She generally has from twelve to twenty on her hands, always filling up with new orphans the vacancies caused in her small colony by death or marriage. There is nothing picturesque about these orphans, for, [..] the most deformed and helpless and maimed and sick, are the peculiar objects of Doña Margarita’s care; nevertheless, we saw various healthy, happy-looking girls, busied in various ways, washing and ironing, and sewing, whose very eyes gleamed when we mentioned her name, and who spoke of her with a respect and affection that it was pleasant to witness. Truly this woman is entitled to happy dreams and peaceful slumbers! The remainder of her fortune she employs in the festivals and ceremonies of the church; in fireworks, in ornaments for the altars, etc.’

p.433-434 Describes women among General Paredes’ pronunciado troops: ‘Various masculine women, with sarapes or mangas and large straw hats tied down with coloured handkerchiefs, mounted on mules or horses. The sumpter mules followed, carrying provisions, camp-beds, etc.; and various Indian women trotted on foot at the rear, carrying their husbands’ boots and clothes. There was certainly no beauty amongst these feminine followers of the camp, especially among the mounted Amazons, who looked like very ugly men in a semi-female disguise. The whole party are on their way to Tacubaya, to join Santa Anna!

p.439 Comment on former President Bustamente after his defeat by Santa Anna: ‘Those who know Bustamente best, even those who most blame him for indecision and want of energy, agree on one point; that the true motives of his conduct are to be found in his constant and earnest desire to spare human life.’

pp.441-442 Describes the nurses of the Cuna, Foundling Hospital, near the Hacienda of Santa Mónica?, former property of La Malinche. Children ‘the offspring of abject poverty or guilt are left at the gate of this establishment, where they are received without any questions being asked; and from that moment, they are protected and cared for, by the best and noblest families in the country. The members of the society consist of the first persons in Mexico, male and female. The men furnish the money; the women give their time and attention.’ The Dowager Marquesa de Vivanco is the president. The babies are cared for by Indian nurses who are paid four dollars a month as an inducement. Women members of the society are responsible for clothing a certain number of children. When the children are weaned they return to the Cuna, where they stay for life, looked after by nurses who are paid eight dollars a month. In practice few children remain in the Cuna; many are adopted by ‘respectable persons’ who ‘bring them up either as favoured servants or their own children’. ‘The nurses are invariably bronze; the babies generally dark, though there was a sprinkling of fair English or German faces amongst them, with blue eyes and blonde hair.’

p.444 ‘I do not believe that there is any real bad feeling subsisting at this moment, even between the two rival generals, Bustamente and Santa Anna. Santa Anna usurped the presidency, partly because he wanted it, and partly because if he had not, someone else would; but I am convinced that if they met by chance in a drawing-room, they would give each other as cordial an ambrazo (embrace), Mexican fashion, as if nothing had happened.’

p.447 Mentions ‘the only’ opposition newspaper, Un Periodico Mas.

p.454 Another Cuna. One little girl asks Calderón de la Barca if she’ll adopt her. Calderón supposes that at a young age children realise they can become adopted by making personal contact with visitors.

p.455-456 She notes that some are opposed to Cunas as they encourage vice, but Calderón feels the benefits outweigh the drawbacks, even if some mothers do abandon their children and then get themselves hired as a nurse and bring them up. ‘These orphans are thus rescued from the contamination of vice, from poverty, perhaps from the depths of depravity; perhaps their very lives are saved, and great sin prevented. Hundreds of innocent children are thus placed under the care of the first and best ladies in the country, and brought up to be worthy members of society.

pp.456-457 Describes a visit to the Acordada, public jail where there is a Junta, a society of ladies, who teach female inmates: ‘It is painful and almost startling to see the first ladies of Mexico familiarly conversing with and embracing women who have been guilty of the most atrocious crimes; especially of murdering their husbands; which is the chief crime of the female prisoners. There are no bad faces among them [...] Few looked sad most appeared careless and happy, and none seemed ashamed. [...] It is a comfort to hear that their husbands were generally such brutes, they deserved little better! [...] We were attended by a woman who has the title of Presidenta, and who, after some years of good conduct, has now the charge of her fellow prisoners - but she also murdered her husband!’ The female prisoners are taught to read and given lessons in the Christian doctrine.

p.457 In the lower regions of the jail ‘hundreds of unfortunate women of the lowest class’ were making tortillas for the prisoners. They were ‘dirty, ragged, and miserable-looking creatures’. Calderón adds ‘the sense of smell is a doubtful blessing’. The women are houses in a separate block from the men. Calderón also visits the male quarters where prisoners are ‘unfortunately collected together without any reference to the nature of the crime; the midnight murderer with the purloiner of a pocket-handkerchief. [...] Here there were indeed some ferocious, hardened-looking ruffians – but there were many mild, good-humoured faces; and I could see neither sadness nor a trace of shame on any countenance; indeed they all seemed amused to see so many ladies.’

p.462 ‘Having stopped in the carriage on the way home, at a shoemaker’s, we saw Santa Anna’s leg lying on the counter, and observed it with due respect, as the prop of a hero. With this leg, which is fitted with a very handsome boot, he reviews the troops next Sunday, putting his best foot foremost; for generally he wears an unadorned wooden leg. The shoemaker, a Spaniard, whom I can recommend to all customers as the most impertinent individual I have ever encountered, was arguing, in a blustering manner, with a gentleman who had brought a message from the general, desiring some alteration in the boot: and wound up by muttering, as the messenger left the shop, ‘He shall either wear it as it is, or review the troops next Sunday without his leg!’
She adds a footnote from a Havana newspaper (Boston, November, 1842): ‘Mexico, 28 September. - Yesterday, was buried with pomp and solemnity in the cemetery of Saint Paul, the foot which his Excellency, President Santa Anna, lost in the action of the 5th December 1838. It was deposited in a monument erected for that purpose, don Ignacio Sierra y Roso having pronounced a funeral discourse appropriate to the subject.’

p.465 States that there is a convent of Indian nuns; inmates were the costume of the cacicas (female caciques).

pp.465-466 A visit to a house for insane women in Calle de Canoa. It was established in 1698 by the congregation of El Salvador and was struggling for funds: ‘The directress seems a good hearted woman, who devoted herself to doing her duty, and who is very gentle to her patients; using no means but those of kindness and steadiness to subdue their violence. But what a life of fear and suffering such a situation must be! The inmates look poor and miserable, generally speaking. [...] One girl was singing cheerfully - one or two women were sewing, but most of them were crouched on the floor, with a look of melancholy vacancy. The poor are admitted gratis, and the richer classes pay a moderate sum for their board.

p.498 ‘The dress of the Indian women of Uruapa is pretty, and they are altogether a much cleaner and better-looking race than we have yet seen. They wear ‘naguas,’ a petticoat of black cotton with a narrow white and blue stripe, made very full and rather long; over this, a sort of short chemise made of coarse white cotton, and embroidered in different coloured silks. It is called the sutunacua - over all is a black reboso, striped with white and blue, with a handsome silk fringe of the same colours. When they are married, they add a white embroidered veil, and a remarkably coloured mantle, the huepilli, which they seem to pronounce guipil. The hair is divided, and falls down behind in two long plaits, fastened at the top by a bow of ribbon and a flower. In this dress there is no alteration from what they wore in former days; saving that the women of a higher class wore a dress of finer cotton with more embroidery, and a loose garment over all, resembling a priest’s surplice, when the weather was cold.’

pp.501-502 Describes meeting a woman who along with her two sons, aged 15 and 16, frightened off some robbers. The woman dragged a loaded musket off the wagon while her sons fired guns at the robbers. The woman claimed that farmers living nearby had failed to help them. She believed they had been bribed by the robbers or too afraid to help.

p.502 A ‘clever Indian girl’ is brought before them to translate Castilian into the native Tarrascan.

p.504 ‘We were amused by a sly-looking Indian [...] who was exceedingly talkative [...] especially praising beyond measure his own exemplary conduct to his wife, from which I infer that he beats her, as indeed all Indians consider it their particular privilege to do; and an Indian woman who complained to a padre of her husband’s neglect, mentioned, as the crowning proof of his utter abandonment of her, that he had not given her a beating for a whole fortnight. Someone asked him if he allowed his wife to govern him. ‘Oh! no,’ said he, ‘that would be the mule leading the arriero!’’

p.504 A scene at the village of Ajuna, on the way to Pascuaro: ‘A number of women were carrying a virgin all covered in flowers, to the sound of a little bell.’

pp.507-508 Convent of Santa Catarina, Pascuaro where the nuns ‘wear white dresses and, instead of veils, the black Indian reboso. They were common-looking women, and not very amiable in their manners.’

pp.515-516 Describes a woman at San Andrés: ‘We were interested by the melancholy air of a poor woman, who sat aloof on the piazza, uncared for, and noticing no one. We spoke to her, and found that she was insane, wandering from village to village, and subsisting on charity. She seemed gentle and harmless, but the very picture of misery, and quite alone in the world, having lost all her family.’ She was given food by the lodge in which the Calderóns stayed.

p.518 During a visit to a house owned by Germans, they are entertained by singing. ‘We also amused ourselves by examining Madame B--‘s Album; and if these milk-and-water volumes, belonging to young ladies, where young gentlemen write prettinesses, be called Albums, some other name should be found for a book where some of the most distinguished artists in Germany have left proof of their talent, and where there is not one page that does not contain something striking and original. Nothing pleases me so much as the fanciful illustration of the beautiful legend of Lorelei, which Madame B-- read to us with great feeling.’

p.522 ‘General Moran has died, universally regretted.’ She describes his funeral, and his embalmed body.

p.523 ‘Every respect has been shown to the deceased general, by Santa Anna’s order.’

p.525 She regrets being unable to visit José Maria Bustamente, ‘a friend of ours, professor of botany, and considered a man of learning’.

p.527 Describes La Guera Rodríguez as among ‘our oldest friends here’. Also named are Señor Gomez Padraza and his wife, the Echavarri, Fagoaga, Cortina, Escandon, and Casaflores families. These may have attended Calderón de la Barca’s salons.

p.533 General Bustamente announced his intention to sail to Havana with his aide-de-camp, former Governor of Jalapa, General Calderon. offered to take the Calderón de la Barcas with them.

p.533 She notes that her tastes have changed: when she arrived in Veracruz she hated the food. Two years later she finds it ‘delicious’. She states: ‘first impressions are of great importance, if given only as such; but if laid down as decided opinions, how apt they are to be erroneous!’

p.545 ‘We were shocked and distressed to hear of the unexpected death of our friend, the Señora de Gutierrez Estrada, who had followed her husband to Havana in his exile.’

Texts written by Frances (Fanny) Calderón de la Barca (née Erskine):
1843 - Life in Mexico