We sent our horses to the bath at Pueblo.  This is usually done once a week in the cities of Mexico.  We went once to see the process while we were in the capital, and were very much amused.  The horses had been to the place before, and turned in of their own accord through a gateway in a shabby back street; and when they got into the courtyard, began to dance about in such a frantic manner that the mozos could hardly hold them in while their saddles and bridles were being taken off.  Then they put their heads down, and bolted into a large shed, with a sort of floor of dust several inches deep, in which six or eight other horses were rushing about, kicking, prancing, plunging, and literally screaming with delight.  I will not positively assert that I saw an old white horse stand upon his head in a corner and kick with all his four legs at once, but he certainly did something very much like it.  Presently the old mozo walked into the shed, with his lazo over his arm, and carelessly flung the noose across.  Of course it fell over the right horse’s neck, when the animal was quiet in a moment, and walked out after the old man in quite a subdued frame of mind.  One horse came out after another in the same way, took his swim obediently across a great tank of water, was rubbed down, and went off home in high spirits.

Though slavery has long been abolished in the Republic, there still exists a curious “domestic institution” which is nearly akin to it.  It is not peculiar to the plains of Puebla, but flourishes there more than elsewhere.  It is called “peonaje,” and its operation is in this wise.  If a debtor owes money and cannot pay it, his creditor is allowed by law to make a slave or peon of him until the debt is liquidated.  Though the name is Spanish, I believe the origin of the custom is to be found in an Aztec usage which prevailed before the Conquest.

A peon means a man on foot, that is, a labourer, journeyman, or foot-soldier.  We have the word in English as “pioneer” and as the “pawn” among chessmen; but I think not with any meaning like that it has come to bear in Mexico.

On the great haciendas in the neighbourhood of Puebla, the Indian labourers are very generally in this condition.  They owe money to their masters, and are slaves; nominally till they can work off the sum they owe, but practically for their whole lives.  Even should they earn enough to be able to pay their debt, the contract cannot be cancelled so easily.  A particular day is fixed for striking a balance, generally, I believe, Easter Monday, just after a season when the custom of centuries has made it incumbent upon the Indians to spend all that they have and all that they can borrow upon church-fees, wax-candles, and rockets, for the religious ceremonies of the season, and the drunken debauches which form an essential part of the festival.  The masters, or at least the administradors, are accused of mystifying the annual statement of accounts between the labourer and the estate, and it is certain that the Indian’s feeble knowledge of arithmetic leaves him quite helpless in the hands of the bookkeeper; but whether this is mere slander or not, we never had any means of ascertaining.