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Abstract. This article concerns the concept and rhetoric of “el pueblo” in Yucatán
during the regime of Mexican president Porfirio Díaz, from the 1870s forward.
In Yucatán, this era was one of radical change, bringing the transformation and
expansion of the region’s henequen hacienda economy, the rise of the institution of
debt servitude, affecting both indigenous Yucatec Mayan and working-class mestizo
populations, and the rise of encompassing political rhetorics of order, progress, and
nation building among Porfirian government officials and pueblo-level landowning
gentry.
El pueblo both mediated these transformations and was reshaped by them.
Local gentry worked as cultural and political brokers, joining forces with state
officials in remaking Yucatán as a “modern” and “civilized” state through infra-
structural improvements and education aimed at transforming largely indigenous,
rural pueblos into staging areas of a modern Mexico. At the same time, the gentry,
many of them also of mestizo background, avidly boosted mestizo pueblo “tradi-
tions” as forms of statecraft, appropriating pueblo cultural styles as a repertoire
through which state and nation might be constructed and the social hierarchies of
henequen society might be legitimated. More than just a place, el pueblo became a
strategy through which modernity and tradition were collaboratively produced by
state officials and local elites. Such performative renderings of el pueblo became
paradigmatic signifiers of both mestizo culture and regional Yucatecan identity,
occupying pride of place in the cultural repertoire of rule embraced by Yucatán’s
regional elites from the Porfiriato forward.
To translate “el pueblo” is no easy task. The term seems to carry distinct
meanings, referring either to places or localities (i.e., pueblos), communi-
ties (groups of people united by some form of communal organization),
or political subjectivity (“the people,” in the abstract). These meanings,
however, are rarely distinguished clearly in practice, and their histories are
intertwined. A genealogy of el pueblo, in the Americas at any rate, would
consist of at least three branches, the first extending back to Spanish com-
munitarian and colonial precedents, where “el pueblo” refers to settlements
and to grounded communities. A second extends to the late eighteenth and
early nineteenth centuries and the emergence of collective republican politi-
cal subjects projected in opposition to ancien régime and colonial rule,
whether in the form of le peuple in St. Domingue and France, “the people”
in revolutionary North America, or el pueblo in Spanish America. A third
branch strikes deep roots in the history of indigenous societies—such as
those of Yucatán, Chiapas, and Guatemala—with manifold understand-
ings of community, territoriality and sovereignty. Such meanings, practices,
and histories altered the meaning and compass of Spanish conceptions of
pueblo, both within indigenous areas and beyond their boundaries.
Moreover, by the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, el
pueblo rose to preeminence not only as a political subject but as a political
object—the primary target of governance for Porfirian-era modernizers,
eugenicists, and revolutionary- and postrevolutionary-era social reformers
alike. While Joseph and Nugent have called, fruitfully, for the study of the
popular dynamics of “everyday forms of state formation,” most scholars
take the nature of “the popular” as a given. To trace the genealogy of el
pueblo is to consider it as both idea and practice, a constantly changing
complex of the various forces and agents—popular and elite; governmental
and civic; social, political, and intellectual—that have taken part in its con-
struction and contestation.1
This essay concerns the reshaping of el pueblo in Yucatán, and spe-
cifically in the context of state formation in the northwestern region of
Hunucmá, before and during the regime of Mexican president Porfirio
Díaz, an authoritarian modernizer who held dictatorial power for three
decades following his rise to power in 1876. As in much of the rest of
Mexico, in Yucatán this era was one of radical change, bringing the emer-
gence of an agrarian capitalist economy focused on the monocultural pro-
duction of henequen on haciendas; the rise of the institution of debt servi-
tude, affecting both indigenous populations and working-class mestizos;
the reorganization, consolidation, and integration of oligarchical regimes
of governance at the municipal, state, and national levels; and the rise of
encompassing political rhetorics of order, progress, and nation building
among government officials and elites.
As I aim to demonstrate, el pueblo both mediated these transforma-
tions and was reshaped by them. Following the dismantlement of Yuca-
tán’s indigenous republics in the early nineteenth century, the organization
unable to tend to their crops during the duration of their service, making
such practices strong if indirect inducements toward the migration of work-
ing families from the pueblo to the haciendas.18
All of these pressures—as well as a generalized state of impoverish-
ment—encouraged migration from pueblo to hacienda, whether under
physical duress or not. Many workers arrived at the haciendas already bur-
dened with personal or family debt, but even those who did not quickly
became indebted to the owner, typically through purchases at the hacienda
store or loans made to cover wedding or other expenses. With the acqui-
sition of debt, workers forfeited the right to leave the haciendas of their
creditors, as the “servant’s” debts (and with them, the “servant”) were con-
sidered transferable assets of the hacienda. Given low rates of pay, the debts
were practically impossible to pay off, and while workers theoretically held
the right to pay off their debt in exchange for their freedom, in practice they
could afford to do so only by finding a new amo, or “master,” to cover their
debt, and in many cases hacendados refused to accept money offered to
them in payment of debts. Thus, Yucatecan debt peonage became the most
regimented and exploitative form of peonage in Mexico of its time, sup-
ported by state laws and government policies that actively enforced indige-
nous servitude despite the fact that peonage had been declared illegal in
Mexico’s 1857 Constitution.19
While governed by debt and law, it was with violence that the social
regime of henequen was enforced. On the haciendas of the Hunucmá region,
both imprisonment and public beatings and whippings were typical parts of
the labor regime, administered liberally. Females, who also provided essen-
tial services and labor on the haciendas, were additionally subject to sexual
abuse by encargados and owners. On Hacienda Hotzuc near Umán, for
instance, whippings with a henequen rope were customarily administered
to groups of workers as “correctional punishments” intended to improve
their work discipline. Testimony regarding the practice only entered the
record in 1898 when a worker named Laureano Cetz was found dead, with
lash marks covering his chest, belly, and testicles.20 When workers fled the
haciendas, newspapers carried advertisements with physical descriptions,
and bounty hunters joined forces with a host of local officials to track them
down. The threat of punishment through military conscription, or corveé
labor, helped to intimidate workers, whether indebted or not, who might
have wanted to abandon the estates.21
Such was life in the mestizo pueblos of the Hunucmá district by the
end of the nineteenth century: pueblos tied together by henequen’s coarse
fiber but divided into the social worlds of workers and gentry.
the young man proposes with a friend to “lower [them]selves to her level,
by adopting her dress [i.e., traditional pueblo attire], and dancing in the
jaranita” at a fiesta the pious young women would attend in Hunucmá,
after a visit to the Virgin of Tetiz. After some rustic dances accompanied by
verses sung out in a mix of Maya and Spanish, the two young men are found
out by the young woman’s betrothed, who declares that he is without party
allegiances but “serves the Government” and “order, religion and peace,”
and so is obligated to denounce the young men regardless of their social
status. This leads to outraged denunciations, by another character in the
play, of elite men who come to pueblo fiestas to “pervert and sully” virtuous
young “mestizas,” disguising themselves as mestizos to do so. Their efforts,
he declares, offend the popular dances, and thus el pueblo: “Not content
with taking advantage of mestizas in Mérida, the little gentlemen come to
the pueblos of the state, seeking more conquests, to pervert and sully them.
Not content with mixing up el pueblo in the farces called elections and
swindling them, they come here to adulate them, joining in their dances
and even wearing their clothes, in order to insinuate themselves more easily
among the mestizas.” Such deceptions, above all, offended el pueblo, which
is “highly moral and religious . . . these little gentlemen, under the pretext
of civilizing el pueblo, corrupt it iniquitously.”38
Beyond demonstrating the image of virtuous pueblo rusticity asso-
ciated with Hunucmá by the mid 1870s, El rábano also suggests how local
and capital elites joined in making Hispanic “traditional” mestizo fiestas
into moments for encounter with, and for seduction, corruption, defense,
or construction of, el pueblo. Such fiestas and dances not only were a major
component of religious and cultural life but also became a stage for inter-
action with outsiders from Mérida or elsewhere, and between various
social classes who took part in both the performance of “traditional” cul-
tural forms and the display of modern civility and enlightenment. El rábano,
moreover, celebrates the “traditional” culture of el pueblo as a corrective to
the potentially corrosive effects of commerce and modernity. Finally, and
perhaps more interestingly, the play demonstrates a perceived connection
between the integrity of pueblo fiestas in Hunucmá (as well as the physical
beauty and sexual honor of mestizas, or those who played that role in the
dances) with the protection of honor, political order and social peace. As
one newspaper reviewer wrote, beyond critiquing elite ballroom culture
and applauding traditional dance, the play’s intention was to “demonstrate
that our pueblo enthusiastically loves any government that does not perse-
cute its beliefs and customs.”39
Over the ensuing years, tradition and modernity played in counter-
point in Hunucmá, as capital city elites and local gentry collaborated in
transforming the region from a backwater of a state that was itself a back-
water, into a gateway of progress for Yucatán and Mexico alike. In a widely
publicized visit to the region in 1876—the year Porfirio Díaz came to
power—Governor Eligio Ancona and a retinue of officials and press com-
mentators who accompanied him gave the region a mixed review, taking
Hunucmá as representative of both regional “decadence” and the possibili-
ties of “progress.” In pueblos like Ucú, Kinchil, and Tetiz, school facilities
were “in ruins,” and the old port town of Sisal—formerly the state’s most
important port but now, after the rise of the larger nearby port of Progreso,
deprived of its erstwhile prosperity—was a shambles. Nonetheless, officials
and the official newspaper noted that throughout the region, wherever the
governor went, he encountered the “will of all of its inhabitants to main-
tain the state of peace that the entire State now enjoys, and to take advan-
tage of it to dedicate themselves with enthusiasm to their labors, convinced
that the prosperity and well-being of individuals and of the entire country
depend on peace and work.”40
An official visit by another governor in 1881 drew starker distinctions
between signs of “decadence” and progress in the region. The pueblo of
Samahil was in a “ruinous” state, marked by extreme poverty, despite the
“beautiful horizons” of henequen plants flanking every road and vista. Ucú,
where “a profound silence reigned,” likewise was much diminished despite,
or perhaps because of, the rise of the fincas, with its school closed and
church and convent in a “deplorable state of abandonment, with their icons
unclothed and dirty, [and] the sacristy filthy.” In contrast, the pueblos of
Tetiz and Kinchil earned praise for their condition and progress. Tetiz’s
main road seemed an icon of undetoured progress toward modernity, lead-
ing one commentator to exclaim, “What a beautiful road! Straight as an
arrow, without the slightest bend—not a single loose stone on it, from
the main plaza of Hunucmá all the way to the plaza of Tetiz!” He also
praised Kinchil’s plaza and streets and its work ethic, declaring that “in
no other pueblo have I ever seen light a bright so pure, or breathed air so
agreeable.”41
It was the larger towns of the district, however, that seemed to have
undergone a process of urbanization that made them exemplars of good
government and pueblo modernity. In Hunucmá, the governor was received
with fireworks, music, toasts, and parades of the local national guard bat-
talion, including a separate militia that still existed for pardos, or African-
descended town residents. Public buildings, the militia, and public educa-
tion in the town comprised a “beautiful spectacle,” and a “great example of
the effects of a democratic Government, in which the governor has talked
with the leaders of el pueblo so sensibly, about the most important interests
of their community!” The transformation was owed not only to good gov-
ernment, and to prominent local dons like Emetrio Peniche (a “good man,
the father, the gentleman of this town”), but also to the rise of commercial
agriculture:
It was thought that Hunucmá, with the decline of the port of Sisal,
was going to disappear, because its wealth depended in large part on
traffic from the port. But that has not been the case, some say, because
in the absence of the traffic that gave life to commerce and inns, its
inhabitants have dedicated themselves to agriculture . . . which have
not only returned to Hunucmá its old movement and traffic, but have
given it true wealth.42
The result was that by its urbanized “buildings, clothing and customs”
Hunucmá had come to seem like a “true piece of Mérida. Social life there is
the same as in the capital.” Umán also was singled out for praise: “It looks
entirely like Mérida—the towers of its cathedral, and the fincas nearby,
with their emerald fields of henequen plants.”43 Several months later the
governor would return to Umán to take part in public festivities celebrating
its reclassification as a villa with its own town council, an occasion that
“principal notables” of the town would celebrate as the “greatest day in the
history of Umán,” one that had brought joy to “el pueblo” and would surely
become an “indelible memory for it.”44
Thus the stage was set for the incorporation of the fiesta del pueblo
as a hegemonic public form, central both to the legitimation of the local
dominance of rural gentry and to the redefinition of pueblo-state relations
during the henequen boom. Such fiestas always accompanied important
processions and events associated with the veneration of local saints such
as the Virgin of Tetiz. Local notables realized the importance of such cults
and their associated fiestas for the renown and prestige of the region, and
they donated icons and funds to church functions, facilities, and the orga-
nization and advertising of fiestas. Hunucmá’s town council even chose
to name Hunucmá after a famous local clergyman and dramaturge named
Lorenzo Caldera, officially baptizing the town “Hunucmá de Caldera” in
1878.45 But official government visits to the district of Hunucmá also were
accompanied by abundant public festivities, including fireworks, proces-
sions, feasting, sometimes bullfights, and especially traditional dances.
Widely advertised fiestas accompanied inaugural events, as for instance
during the opening of a bazaar-market in Hunucmá in 1884, which one
newspaper congratulated and termed a “fiesta of progress” in which the
population “succumbed to a joy as intense as it was legitimate.” The state
governor, along with many other Mérida residents, attended the festivities,
With the printing press, and with the school; you go towards the
future; with work and science; with goodness and truth.
I, who love all pueblos; with pure fraternal love. I salute you, from
your east: Forward, Hunucmá!57
In 1893, the official news media took a visit by then governor Daniel
Traconis as an opportunity to boost Hunucmá as a “fine place for relax-
ation and for passing the summer, due to its vegetation, which is more
exuberant than that of the Mérida area, and to its fresh breezes, rich in
oxygen.” The town was “called to progress, by a thousand of its qualities”;
its people had the “frank character of a coastal people, and the unaffected
amiability of people of good upbringing.” On arrival, the governor was met
outside Hunucmá by a mounted escort of twenty of its principal vecinos,
including Emetrio Peniche (saluted, as a decade earlier, as the “patriarch”
of Hunucmá, a “wise doctor who brings health and comfort to inhabitants,
who see him like an affectionate father”). After a tour of the district, the
governor returned to Hunucmá for one of its famed traditional dances, in
which the “angelic beauties of the town showed off their graces.”58
In the 1890s, as in the 1880s, such events were celebrated as expres-
sions of national and pueblo patriotism, and they were often coordinated
with national holidays. Wealthy town residents took these moments as
opportunities to profess their loyalties to the state, and government offi-
cials did their part in return, by helping to solidify the political and cultural
prestige of local notables. Thus in 1899, the inauguration of a telegram
line in Tetiz on 5 May provided an occasion for Tetiz’s mayor to thank the
“advances and progress of our beloved State,” and for Yucatán’s gover-
nor to salute the work of Hunucmá’s prefect, who by his commitment to
progress had “realized the ideals of Progress in this important part of our
State.” According to the governor, the telegraph line, inaugurated on such
a “memorable date,” served as “the most eloquent commemoration of this
day of the patria.”59 Local notables, realizing that el pueblo’s progress was
linked both to its ability to become “modern” and to its ability to exemplify
“traditional” mestizo culture, expanded their efforts to collect funds for
the improvement and reconstruction of churches in the region, and for the
boosting of “traditional” and “popular” fiestas, chiefly those of Hunucmá
and Tetiz.60
On one such occasion, in August 1898, the “humble” and “pleasant”
pueblo of Tetiz invited visitors from the entire state to attend the yearly
fiestas in honor of the Virgin of Tetiz, and to enjoy bullfights, vaquerías, and
“etiquette dances, in which beautiful young angels, their wings quivering
to the accompaniment of melodious orchestral music, will display their
Notes
Razón del Pueblo (RdP); Joseph, Rediscovering the Past, 56–58; Joseph, Revolu-
tion from Without, 27–32.
9 See Robert Patch, Maya and Spaniard in Yucatan, 1648–1812 (Stanford, CA,
1993), 233, 234, 260; Matthew Restall, The Maya World: Yucatec Culture and
Society, 1550–1850 (Stanford, CA, 1997), 18; and Wolfgang Gabbert, Becoming
Maya: Ethnicity and Social Inequality in Yucatán since 1500 (Tucson, AZ, 2004),
32–36, 74–77.
10 “1824. Causa criminal contra Juan Navarro . . . ,” Archivo General del Estado
de Yucatán (AGEY), Ramo de Justicia (JUS), Sección Penal (PEN), 2, 18; “1855.
Causa de Norberto Chuil . . . ,” AGEY, JUS, PEN, 70, 8; and “1862. Causa
contra José María Naranjo . . . ,” AGEY, JUS, PEN, Caja 98, Exp. 15. See also
Gabbert, Becoming Maya, 72–73; and Dumond, Machete.
11 Andrés D. Peniche, JP Hunucmá, 5 September 1977, AGEY, PE, 200. For
thoroughgoing analyses of the historical and contemporary complexities of
Yucatecan ethnic categorizations, see Gabbert, Becoming Maya, and Peter
Hervik, Mayan People within and beyond Boundaries (Amsterdam, 1999). I bor-
row the term “indigenous mestizo” from Marisol de la Cadena, Indigenous Mes-
tizos: The Politics of Race and Culture in Cuzco, Peru, 1919–1991 (Durham, NC,
2000).
12 Abelardo Ponce, JP Hunucmá, 1891, AGEY, PE, Ayuntamientos, Estadística,
Box 267; 1892, AGEY, PE, Ayuntamientos, Box 273; Dr. L. Cáceres, JP
Hunucmá, 15 April 1910, AGEY, PE, Fomento, Box 675; 1909 documents of
Dirección General de Estadística, Secretaría de Fomento, AGEY, PE, Fomento,
Box 675; 28 January 1880, RdP; 20 August 1881, Eco del Comercio (EC); and
24 April 1892, La Sombra de Cepeda (SC).
13 Wells, Gilded Age, 78–87.
14 “1894. Interdicto de apeo y deslinde de la hacienda Yaxché . . . ,” AGEY, JUS,
Sección Civil (CIV), 89, 1; assorted Hunucmá-related documents in AGEY,
Congreso (CON), CIAA, Dictámenes; 29 June, 26, 27, 29, and 31 October, and
1 November 1894, RdP; March 1899, Diario Oficial (DO); and Wells, Gilded
Age, 78–87.
15 “1879. Testamentario del C. Eduardo López . . . ,” AGEY, JUS, CIV, Box 121-A,
microfilm roll 139; “1891. Testamentaria de la finada Dolores López . . . ,” AGEY,
JUS, CIV, 10, 23; and “1879. Testamentario del finado Anastacio Castilla . . . ,”
AGEY, JUS, CIV, Box 121-A, microfilm roll 137.
16 “1891. Indice de escrituras del notario Eligio Guzmán,” AGEY, JUS, CIV, 15,
32; “1894. Interdicto promovido por Marcos Novelo . . . ,” AGEY, JUS, CIV,
74, 37; “1896. Juicio promovido por Rafael Peon y Losa . . . ,” AGEY, JUS,
PEN, 69, 46; “1897. Juicio verbal promovido por Ignacia Serrano . . . ,” AGEY,
JUS, CIV, 178, 35; “1898. Diligencias de consignacion . . . Luciano Tuyub . . . ,”
AGEY, JUS, CIV, 197, 20; and “1898. Juicio verbal promovido por Alvino
Uc . . . ,” AGEY, JUS, CIV, 196, 12.
17 See Abelardo Ponce, Jefe político Hunucmá, undated, AGEY, PE, Ayuntamien-
tos, 267; 1892 survey of henequen fincas of Hunucmá in AGEY, PE, Ayunta-
mientos, 273; and 4 March 1881, RdP. See also Joseph, Rediscovering, 55–56.
18 See “1892. Acusación de Isidro Quijano . . . ,” AGEY, JUS, PEN, 20, 57; “1893.
Averiguaciones . . . Facundo Magaña,” 14 Mar. 1893, AGEY, JUS, PEN, 25,
16; Wells, Gilded Age, 83; 22 June and 18 October 1883, 1 April and 29 August
1884, and 1 June 1885, Union Yucateca (UY ); 5 November 1876, 26 May, 17
June, 1 and 5 July 1885, 6 May and 20 November 1886, 8 July 1887, RdM; and
2 and 28 January 1880, and 4 October and 3 November 1886, RdP.
19 “1891. Causa seguida a Lorenzo Baas . . . ,” AGEY, JUS, PEN, 8, 58; Máx-
imo Uc to Calixto Maldonado, 17 September 1915, AGEY, PE, Guerra (GUE),
476; 6 July 1886, RdM. See also Joseph, Rediscovering, 55–56, 60–69; Batt,
“Rise and Fall;” Friedrich Katz, “Labor Conditions on Haciendas in Porfirian
Mexico: Some Trends and Tendencies” Hispanic American Historical Review 54,
no. 1 (1974): 1–47; Joseph, Rediscovering, 62; Wells, Gilded Age, 113–50; Wells
and Joseph, Summer of Discontent, 146–65; González Navarro, Raza y Tierra,
162–68, 195–98, 324–29.
20 “1892. Causa seguida a Federico Mata . . . ,” AGEY, JUS, 18, 28; “1898. Causa
a Carlos Perez y Claudio Mendez . . . ,” AGEY, JUS, PEN, 105, 29; and “1900.
Diligencias por la muerte de José Baas . . . ,” AGEY, JUS, PEN, 159, 4.
21 “1898. Juicio verbal promovido por Alvino Uc . . . ,” AGEY, JUS, CIV, 196, 12;
“1898. Diligencias de consignacion . . . Luciano Tuyub contra Eligio Canto . . . ,”
AGEY, JUS, CIV, 197, 20; “1898. Causa a Juan Maldonado . . . ,” AGEY, JUS,
PEN, 95, 25; “1900. Acusación de Marcos Che . . . ,” AGEY, JUS, PEN, 143,
32; May 1876, RdM; 28 February 1883, UY; 2 and 28 January 1880, RdP. See
also Wells, Gilded Age, 157–62; and Wells and Joseph, Summer of Discontent,
156–60.
22 2 November 1880, RdP.
23 24 December 1880, RdP. See also 14 February 1880, EC; 30 June, 4, 14, and 21
February, 27 April, and 26 September 1881, RdP.
24 3 September 1876, RdM.
25 1 April 1899, DO. See also Gabbert, Becoming Maya, 70; 11 October 1871,
6 July 1886, and 21 April 1887, RdM; 24 February 1880, and 14, 17, and 21
May 1881, EC; “1891. Causa seguida a Canuto Soberanis . . . ,” AGEY, JUS,
190.
26 2 January 1882, and 7 September 1881, RdP.
27 9 February 1880, RdP. See also 14 January 1876, and 2 and 5 January, 9 Febru-
ary, and 6 and 20 August 1880, 6 April, 10 August, and 21 and 23 September
1881, RdP; 24 March 1884, UY; 1 January 1880, EC; 11 September, and 24 and
1 December 1887, RdM.
28 24 November 1887, and 3 September 1881, RdP.
29 4 May 1885, UY.
30 15 September 1880, RdP. See also 16 and 21 September 1885, UY; William H.
Beezley, Cheryl English Martin, and William E. French, eds., Rituals of Rule,
Rituals of Resistance: Public Celebrations and Popular Culture in Mexico (Wil-
mington, DE, 1994); and Mary Kay Vaughan, “The Construction of the Patri-
otic Festival in Tecamachalco,” in Rituals of Rule, ed. Beezley, Martin, and
French, 213–45.
31 5 May 1880, RdP.
32 19 September 1881, RdP.
33 Ibid.
34 See 15, 16, and 17 September 1880, 21 and 23 September 1881, and 17 October
1888, RdP; and 24 March 1884, UY.
35 See “Reglamento de policía, ornato y buen gobierno de la villa de Hunucmá,”
20 July 1871, AGEY, Congreso (CON), Comisión de gobernación y puntos
constitucionales (CGPC), 51, 1, 66. On public works in the district, see 28 Janu-
ary 1880, 29 June 1881, 4 October 1886, 5 December 1887, 9 November 1888,
and 2 August 1889, RdP; 20 August 1881, EC; and 19 September 1885, 11 Sep-
tember 1886, 21 January, 24 March 1887, 1 May and 4 October 1887, RdM.
36 John L. Stephens, Incidents of Travel in Yucatán, vol. 2 (New York, 1963), 63,
65.
37 Ibid., 74–77.
38 José García Montero, El rábano por las hojas: Una fiesta en Hunucmá (Mérida,
1901), n.p. See also Eric Hobsbawm and Terence Ranger, eds., The Invention of
Tradition (Cambridge, 1983); and Richard Maddox, El Castillo: The Politics of
Tradition in an Andalusian Town (Urbana, IL, 1993).
39 Montero, El rábano.
40 22 September 1871, AGEY, CON, CGPC, Caja 51, vol. 1, exp. 82; 7 January
1876, RdP.
41 4 March 1881, RdP.
42 Ibid.
43 Ibid.
44 3 June 1881, RdP. See also 28 January 1880, and 4 and 14 March 1881, RdP;
AGEY, CON, CGPC, box 54, vol. 4, exp. 7.
45 Eduardo López, 25 September 1878, AGEY, PE, 205; “1900. Causa instruída
contra Alfonso Barrera . . . ,” AGEY, JUS, PEN, 159, 50.
46 16 June 1884, EC. See also 8 December 1884, EC; 20 January 1886 and 21
January 1887, RdM.
47 4 October 1887, RdM. See also Génaro Cervera, JP Hunucmá, to gobernador,
9 October 1867, AGEY, PE, GOB, 167; 29 June 1881, RdP; and 1 May 1886,
RdM.
48 24 March 1887, RdM.
49 10 and 14 November 1883, La voz del partido: Periódico noticioso de literatura y
variedades.
50 21 November 1884, EC.
51 21 May 1883, EC. In 1883, thirteen schools served a population of 18,500,
among which only 400 children attended school. 13 November and 15 Decem-
ber 1882, and 6 June and 28 November 1883, UY; 1 May 1886, RdM; 5 Decem-
ber 1887, RdP.
52 8 June 1883, EC.
53 15 May 1882, UY. See also 6 September 1880, 29 April 1881, and 8 March 1886,
RdP; 25 April 1884, UY.
54 Abelardo Ponce, JP Hunucmá, 1891, AGEY, PE, Ayuntamientos, Estadística,
Box 267; 11 June and 4 July 1890, and 5 August 1891, RdP.
55 20 February 1891, RdP. See also 29 June 1881 and 2 August 1889, RdP; 20
August 1881, 9 June 1884, EC; 19 September 1885, and 24 March and 1, 5, 7,
and 8 May 1887, RdM; and 14 November 1883, La voz del partido.
56 4 April 1883, UY.
57 8 January 1883, EC.
58 15 March 1893, RdP.
59 6 May 1899, DO.
60 14 September 1894, RdP; 21 September 1895, EC; 13 March 1899, DO.
61 21 July 1898, RdM.