James Alex Garza-The Imagined Underworld - Sex, Crime, and Vice in Porfirian Mexico City (2008) PDF

The Imagined Underworld

Sex, Crime, and Vice in Porrian Mexico City
James Alex Garza
University of Nebraska Press | Lincoln & London

2007 by the Board of Regents of
the University of Nebraska
All rights reserved
Manufactured in the
United States of America
Library of Congress Cataloging-

in-Publication Data
Garza, James Alex.

The imagined underworld: sex, crime, and vice in
porrian Mexico City / James Alex Garza.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
isbn-13: 978-0-8032-2215-1 (cloth : alk. paper)
1. CrimeMexicoMexico CityHistory19th century.
2. CriminalsMexicoMexico CityBiography.
3. Mexico City (Mexico)Social conditions. I. Title.
hv6815.m4g37 2007
364.10972'5309034dc22
2007020017
Set in Quadraat.
For my wife, Jennifer, and my children, James, David, and Katherine
Contents
List of Illustrations . . . viii

Acknowledgments . . . ix
Introduction . . . 1
1. Charting the Imagined City . . . 12
2. The Terror of Peralvillo, El Chalequero . . . 38
3. Love, Betrayal, and Death in the Underworld . . . 71
4. Organized Crime and the Porrian State . . . 97
5. Disease, Decay, and the Strange Case of Federico
Abrego and Mara Barrera . . . 131
6. Politics, Corruption, and the Arnulfo Arroyo Affair . . . 155
Conclusion . . . 179
Notes . . . 183
Bibliography . . . 201
Index . . . 213
Illustrations
1. Los Templados . . . 17
2. Scenes from the 1908 Trial of Francisco Guerrero . . . 69
3. Exhumation of Mara Barrera . . . 145
Acknowledgments
This book would not have been possible without the help of innu-
merable friends, colleagues, and archivists whom I have met over the
years. Archival and library staffs in both Mexico and the United States
provided constant assistance. The staff of the Archivo General de la
Nacin in Mexico City went beyond the bounds of duty to help me locate
valuable information, in particular the records of the Judicial Archives.
I am particularly indebted to Roberto Beristan, Csar Montoya, and
Jos Zavala for their expert advice and help. During my lengthy stay in
the Distrito Federal I also beneted from the assistance of fellow his-
torians, including Michael Scardaville and Linda Arnold. In addition
I would like to thank William Connell, Steven Bunker, Victor Macas-
Gonzlez, Daniel Newcomer, Aurea Toxqui, Christoph Rosenmller,
Glenn Avent, Matt Esposito, Monica Rankin, Roger Tuller, Shannon
Baker, David Coffey, and Celeste Bustamante-Gonzlez. Their friend-
ship and advice was (and is) highly valued.
In Fort Worth Mark Gilderhus, Don Coerver, Ben Proctor, and Arturo
Flores guided the development of this project. In Laredo Stan Green,
Jerry Thompson, and Jos Roberto Jurez offered invaluable help.
In Cholula Roberto and Leticia Flores and their family welcomed
me into their home. I especially remember my conversations with
Roberto regarding Mexican history. I will miss him. In Austin my
cousin Elma Gina Garza gave me shelter while I conducted research
at the University of Texas. In El Paso Samuel Sisneros, Michael de la
Garza, and Guillermo Rodriguez offered advice. I would also like to
thank Dr. Dennis Bixler-Mrquez of the Chicano Studies Research
Program for his encouragement as well as Rosa Gmez and Monica
Chvez for their help in making my one-year stay at the University of
Texas, El Paso, pleasant and rewarding. Of course my advisor, mentor,
and friend Bill Beezley deserves special recognition. During my rst
seminar he introduced a topic that eventually evolved into this book.
His constant encouragement and advice have been invaluable, and I
look forward to many more discussions about Porrian Mexico.
Without the support of numerous people at the University of Nebraska
Lincoln, this book would not have been possible. In particular I would
like to thank the college of Arts and Sciences for its support in the form
of both a Research Council Award and a Layman Grant, which allowed
me to continue my research in 2002 and 2003. I am also grateful to the
History Department and the Institute for Ethnic Studies. Special thanks
go out to Ken Winkle, James LeSueur, Loukia Sarroub, Alan Steinweis,
Susana Schrafstetter, Tim Mahoney, Patrick Jones, Doug Seefeldt, Andy
Graybill, Carleen Sanchez, Wendy Katz, Carole Levin, John Wunder,
Vanessa Gorman, Jeannette Jones, Marcela Rafaelli, Miguel Carranza,
Jessica Coope, Ben Rader, Sandra Pershing, Cindy Hilsabeck, and Lloyd
Ambrosius for their support and assistance at various times in making
this book possible. My students Maria Muoz, Jason Denzin, Zahra
Ortiz-Delgado, and Jenna Valadez have listened to me at various points,
and for that I am also grateful. I would like as well to thank Gustavo
Paz, Tom Smith, and Elizabeth Demers for their help. At the University
of Nebraska Press, Heather Lundine and Bridget Barry deserve special
thanks. Additionally, Bill French, John Hart, Anne Rubenstein, Colin
MacLachlan, Alan Knight, Jeff Pilcher, and Paul Vanderwood have all
at one time or another offered advice and assistance.
I would especially like to thank my family for all their help. My par-
ents, Roberto and Graciela, as well as my brother, Robert, his wife,
Patsy, and my sister, Gabriela, believed in me while I researched and
completed this project. My nieces, Lizette, Demaris, and Brianna, pro-
vided inspiration and continue to do so. I especially thank my children,
James, David, and Katherine, for their patience and understanding as
I worked to complete this project. I also want to thank Greg Wynot,
Kathy Wynot, Evan, Andrew, and of course Pete. Finally, I would like
to thank my wife, Jennifer, for her support and understanding at cru-
cial times. Her advice and insight made the book come alive. It is to
her and my children that this book is dedicated.
x Acknowledgments
Introduction
in apr il 18 8 3 Mexico City police made a grisly discovery in the

capitals outskirts: the bloodied, decomposed corpse of a woman.
A subsequent investigation concluded that the unknown victim
had been surprised by two men as she walked near the fetid Rio del
Consulado, a stream located in the citys northeastern periphery.
The unidentied individuals had apparently cut her throat, almost
decapitating her in the act. They then ed, leaving no trace.
Or did they? The murder was in fact unknown until 1890, when it
was incorporated into the criminal trial of Francisco Guerrero, El
Chalequero, a serial killer who had roamed the same area where the
unknown woman had died years before. During the 1880s Guerrero
had raped and murdered several women with relative impunity, in the
process terrorizing the poverty-stricken northeastern colonias (neigh-
borhoods) of the Porrian capital. When police nally tracked him
down in 1888, they blamed him for all sorts of crimes, real or imag-
ined, including the 1883 case. Yet no mention was made of this mur-
der for seven years, until Guerreros 1890 trial.1
What are we to make of this omission? Was the 1883 incident real
or simply invented to suit the needs of both the prosecutors who con-
demned Guerrero and the voracious reading public, eager for a story?
The subsequent Guerrero trials (there were two), and others included
in this study, altogether offer an interesting and informative look at
how Mexico City ofcials not only reinvented the past, but also helped
fashion a criminal underworld. Partly based on the real observations
of elite critics and ofcials and partly on their prejudices toward the
urban poor, this underworld was imagined to exist along the social
and physical margins of the capital. It quickly took on a life of its own,
playing a prominent role in the Porrian discourse on public moral-
ity and order and, most importantly, on how the elite saw themselves
in relation to the rest of the nation. Yet, as elite observers found out,
their criminal underworld also threatened to undermine their own
importance in the forging of the Mexican nation.
This nation began in 1876, when the Tuxtepec Revolution catapulted
General Porrio Daz to power and inaugurated the remarkable thirty-
four-year period known as the Porriato. Driven by foreign invest-
ment and a desire for scientic-based modernity, the Porrian govern-
ment relied on the efforts of an elite group of government ofcials,
prominent citizens, politicians, urban professionals, and newspaper
editors, among others, to elevate the Mexican nation from what was
popularly perceived by this diverse group to be a backward, primitive
condition. This group, born out of the liberal revolution of midcen-
tury, was inuenced by several currents of thought then in vogue,
among them Herbert Spencers social Darwinism, Auguste Comtes
positivism, and scientic liberalism. The Porrian elite, together with
an inner circle of presidential advisers known as los cientcos, sought
no less than the invention of a new, modern Mexico.2
This late nineteenth-century search for modernity was not unique,
as Mexicos Porrian leadership was in essence continuing the post-
colonial project of forging a nation out of disparate kingdoms and
remote regions.3 What differed were the scope and nature of the tools
and the expected results. The Porrian Persuasion, as examined by
William H. Beezley, favored not only political centralization, but also
the imposition of elite-dened morals. The national architects relied
on foreign-inspired modernity, as exemplied by railroad technology
and modern factories; imported European and North American cul-
ture, such as French cuisine and American baseball; and the traditional
Mexican emphasis on family to forge a new code of conduct where thrift,
propriety, and hard work would play a central role in daily life.4
2 Introduction
It was more imagined than real. In his study on nationalism, Benedict
Anderson observes that in world-historical terms bourgeoisies were
the rst classes to achieve solidarities on an essentially imagined
basis.5 Mexico Citys ruling class did indeed imagine themselves
the future of their country. They also desired to educate and guide
the middle class toward this ideal. Yet they also attempted to distance
themselves from the other Mexico, the vast indigenous and mestizo
population they referred to as el pueblo. Long the object of elite scorn,
the poor underclass took on new signicance in the 1890s, the height
of Porrian power, when the capital city underwent a profound trans-
formation as thousands upon thousands of poor Mexicans, displaced
by expansive haciendas and lured by jobs, migrated to the city. The
Porrian elite and the middle class viewed this migratory shift with
apprehension and fear.6
It was fear that helped create the imagined underworld. Beginning
in the late 1880s, Mexico City experienced a wave of highly publicized
crimes that led to the public perception that the city was drowning in
criminality. Moreover, ofcial efforts to compile statistical information
produced a wave of reports that added to the impression of widespread
disorder.7 Add to this a vigorous program undertaken to prosecute
petty theft and drunkenness (an effort that enlarged the denition
of crime), and the end result was an image of a criminal underworld.
Porrian elites fantasized about this seamy underside and believed it
inhabited by degenerate individuals who allegedly prowled the citys
streets, claimed public spaces for their own, threatened the morality
of the gente decente (decent and respectable people), and scandalized
business interests with robberies and overt displays of drunkenness.
For the elite and the middle class, the dream of modernity seemed in
peril from the actions of the underclass and their vices. Yet, as several
of the cases in this study illustrate, it was the very actions of the middle
class and the government that proved most dangerous.8
This study is about the way in which urban elites in late nineteenth-
century Mexico City imagined, forged, and populated this under-
world of crime and vice. In an effort to maintain moral superiority,
erect an ideological barrier between the educated and popular classes,
and instruct the middle class in what they believed were appropri-
Introduction 3
ate behaviors and customs, elites invented a criminal underworld
and populated it with imaginary, stock Mexicans: degenerate, foul,
drunk, deviant, and murderous. During several celebrated criminal
cases, Porrian elites fashioned moral transcripts that created social
ties between the accused and the impoverished residents of the citys
marginal colonias. By linking the imagined underworld with the urban
poor, for instance in the Guerrero case, elites successfully labeled the
underclass as inherently dangerous, allowing for more effective social
engineering and control.9 Elites also condemned the urban poor for
invading the commercial heart of the capital and committing rob-
beries, although many of these incidents paled in comparison with
crimes committed by the middle class.
Thus the Porrian elite and their middle-class allies were not free
from the inuence of criminality. In one noted incident a middle-class
clerk committed murder in broad daylight, while in another case a
licensed and prominent physician stood accused of performing an
abortion that led to tragic results. These cases produced anxiety for
the elite, who worried that immoral behavior was spreading among
the cultured and breaking the barrier between the social classes.
These fears were ultimately conrmed by the Porrian polices own
criminal actions in the celebrated and relatively unknown Arnulfo
Arroyo case.
The cases explored in this study are also powerful cultural rem-
nants that help us remember and dene the Porriato. For example,
the Arnulfo Arroyo case remains one of Mexicos most remembered
political crimes. The forging of the underworld led to the elabora-
tion of a powerful urban criminal mythology that remains part of
Mexico City today. Ironically, in granting potency to an imaginary
world, Porrian elites invented a continuous narrative that stretched
backward to a fabled dark past and forward into a dangerous future.
The underworld became a looming threat that ultimately outlived
the political state that created it. Yet the capitals criminal side was
perhaps a necessary product of Porrian-inspired progress. Angel
Rama notes that during the late nineteenth century, modernization
created new urban myths throughout Latin America.10 As Mexico Citys
urban population increased and its modern character spread, so did
4 Introduction
the ofcial perception that crime was widespread. It would seem that
order and crime needed each other.11
The new mythology found special nourishment in the oversen-
sationlized crime reporting of the time. Beginning in the 1890s and
continuing toward the end of the regime, Mexico Citys criminal cases
received widespread coverage and inuenced public perceptions of
the urban poor. Some of these crimes also became part of popular
legend and found expression in the penny press. In utilizing this
source, I have selected six major criminal cases dating from 1888 to
1908 as the principal sources for this study. These criminal narratives,
most previously unknown, represent several aspects of urban crime,
including assault, robbery, rape, murder, and police corruption. They
also offer insights into topics such as love, illicit sex, and abortion.
Originating from the judicial archives in Mexico Citys Archivo General
de la Nacin, the cases transcend mere criminal records and func-
tion as important windows into life in the Porrian capital, telling
the personal stories of Mexicans from all walks of life, from artisans
and maids to prostitutes and police commanders.
In addition this book utilizes information and opinions from news-
papers, travel accounts, and municipal reports. These sources, what
Bernard Cohn calls the cultural technologies of rule, were important
tools the Porrian state utilized to dene and delineate urban crimi-
nality. Each major case is also framed by numerous smaller incidents
whose texts add understanding to the time period and the processes
that shaped it.12
The role of the media in particular is central to this study. All of the
cases explored here were extensively covered by Mexico Citys vari-
ous newspapers, many of which functioned as the unofcial mor-
al voices of the regime. For instance, El Imparcial, a newspaper that
offered coverage of the underworld, received a direct subsidy from
the Porrian government. Under the guidance of cientco Rafael
Reyes Spindola, El Imparcial beneted from new modern technologies,
such as photography advances, that allowed it to maintain essential
coverage of the alleged criminal activities of the urban poor.13
While previous studies have used the viewpoints expressed in crimi-
nology and popular literature to reconstruct the theories and causa-
Introduction 5
tions behind Poririan criminality, this book moves in a new direc-
tion, arguing that an elite-forged criminal narrative ran alongside the
ofcial story, reinforcing the ideal city and making it possible for
the elite to draw rm boundaries between themselves and the other
side.14 The Porrian master narrative valued order and progress and
exalted foreign, particularly French culture and devalued the partici-
pation of Mexicos gente del pueblo. Yet the underclass did contribute to
the construction of Porrian identity, as elites incorporated the cul-
ture and behavior of the underclass into their own denition of what
their society was not. While the Porrian state utilized construction
projects, modern sports, health programs, and moral discourses to
construct the modern Mexican nation-state, it also used criminality
to help forge the nation.15
Tales from the Porrian Archives

Elite beliefs about crime were founded on long-standing conceptions
and beliefs concerning the marginal sectors of Mexico City. By the
1890s the Daz government had inscribed the Porrian capital with
the landmarks, symbols, and tools of state power. For the elite Mexico
City was the showcase of the regime. However, beneath and outside of
this ofcial city existed the marginal city, a conglomeration of colonias
populares (large working-class neighborhoods), barrios (small, infor-
mal neighborhoods), pulqueras (cantinas where pulque, a fermented
drink, was sold), and vecindades (tenement houses). Chapter 1 exam-
ines the cultural topography of this city, focusing on how the spaces
were ofcially transformed into alleged centers of crime. While the
urban underclass appropriated and incorporated these cultural spaces
into their own urban concept, the elite focused on imagined aspects,
believing, for instance, that urban slums were nests of criminality
and that pulqueras and bordellos contributed to the sexual degen-
eracy of their inhabitants and patrons. Quite interestingly, the citys
ofcial prison, Beln, also became an integral part of the imagined
underworld. In numerous ofcial reports, the prison was credited
with the existence, whether imagined or real, of an autonomous sub-
culture. Quite literally, the elite believed that the prison and the poor
neighborhoods surrounding it were infused with a degeneracy that
was quite alien to the ofcial culture.
6 Introduction
The idea of degeneration also underlaid elite fears about the poor
inhabitants of the capital, who were seen not only as natural criminals,
but as a source of moral and sexual contagion.16 Chapter 2 explores the
case of Francisco Guerrero, also known as El Chalequero, Mexicos
version of Jack the Ripper. During the 1880s Guerrero raped and killed
several women, most of them prostitutes, with impunity. His rst trial
in 1890 allowed the state to construct a vision of a degenerate, crime-
ridden world centered on the serial killer. Guerrero, his humble back-
ground, and his victims and friends became part of a new urban myth.
Guerreros crimes also permitted his transformation into the Porrian
antihero, a dark and shadowy gure who stood in opposition to don
Porrio, the hero of the ofcial city. Guerreros notorious reputation
survived his long imprisonment; when he returned to Mexico City, he
murdered again, and once more the killer and his social class were
put on trial. Although Guerrero had become a shadow of his former
self, his past crimes had made him a legendary gure and earned him
a permanent place in the underworld mythology.
Part of that mythology centered on the invention of stock charac-
ters who allegedly populated and prowled the underworld. During
the 1890 Guerrero trial, government ofcials linked the urban poor
to Guerrero, thus depicting the underclass as degenerate, vicious,
dangerous, and sexually promiscuousall the qualities that the serial
killer allegedly possessed. In numerous press stories, the underclass
was also characterized as subhuman and vice ridden. Originating in
traditional elite views of indigenous Mexicans, these images conveyed
a powerful message that condemned the urban poor to a subordi-
nate position in Porrian society, placing them outside the social and
physical boundaries of order and progress. Further, Porrian elites
warned that this social class posed a dangerous threat to the middle
and upper classes.
Elites believed that threat was exemplied by the sensational case of
Luis Yzaguirre and Mara Piedad Ontiveros. In October 1890 Yzaguirre,
a middle-class government clerk, shot and killed his lover, Ontiveros,
in a coach in one of the capitals busy streets. The case of Luis and
Piedad, examined in chapter 3, focuses on the imagined underworlds
threat to middle-class Porrian morality. Interestingly, the states
Introduction 7
discourse is not so much at issue here as are the thoughts and ideas
that originate from a series of love letters composed by Yzaguirre
and Ontiveros. The letters reveal middle-class anxieties and beliefs
about illicit sex, demonstrating how Porrian moral concepts and
warnings were incorporated by individuals. The fates of Luis and
Piedad also demonstrate the Porrian elites misplaced condence
in their ability to distance the middle classes from the criminality
elites condemned.
The fear that crime was inundating the citys ordered spaces and
educated classes posed a dilemma for elites, who pondered the most
effective way to patrol the imagined border between the ideal and
marginal cities. Accordingly, elites believed that downtown Mexico
City exemplied modern progress and, in an effort to keep disorderly
elements out, posted police ofcers on practically every street corner.
Any condence in the viability of this effort was misplaced. In 1888
a group of men broke into the home of a downtown merchant, Jos
Mara Brilanti. The audacious plan easily circumvented the security
in place and exposed the illusory safety of the ideological heart of the
ideal city. The robbery, however, was only a prelude. Three years later
another band of men, this time armed, robbed a jewelry store only a few
blocks from the Zcalo, murdering the owner, don Toms Hernndez
Aguirre. The La Profesa Jewelry Store Robbery, as the crime came to
be known, shocked Porrian society and attracted attention from the
highest government levels. The case not only demonstrated the fallacy
of the Porrian credo of order and progress, it also revealed the inner
workings of the ofcial security apparatus. Coming on the heels of
a major reorganization of the metropolitan police, the robbery was
aggressively investigated by Mexico City plainclothes ofcers, the
Comisiones de Seguridad. Popularly known as the secret police, the
Comisiones successfully pursued the La Profesa gang. The robbery
not only revealed the Porrian police to be effective agents of state
power, but also demonstrated the labyrinthine efforts criminals often
employed to evade arrest.
While the imagined underworld possessed a certain exotic qual-
ity that was the product of elite fantasies, the actual world of the
urban poor was lled with a complex set of rules and associations
8 Introduction
that worked to ensure loyalty and kept the power of the state at bay.
The men who carried out the La Profesa robbery relied on an intimate
network of family and friends to hide their tracks and stolen wealth.
The robbery cases examined in chapter 4 allow for a close inspection
of this hidden world and reveal how average Mexicans coped with the
intrusive powers of the state.
Ofcial measures intended to classify and control Mexico Citys
urban population did not rely solely on the potential use of violence,
however. The government also employed the new science of pub-
lic hygiene to maintain the moral boundary between the underclass
and the elite. A principal part of this effort rested on the legitimacy
of modern medicine and in particular on the alleged respectability
of physicians. In 1898 this boundary was breached due to the actions
of Federico Abrego, a doctor who stood accused of committing an
abortion that resulted in the death of his lover, Mara Barrera. This
case, examined in chapter 5, can be also viewed as part of a larger
context in which modern medicine and hygiene were increasingly
used as tools by Porrian authorities to label the world of the poor
as infected by crime and vice.
The Porrian states efforts to exclude the urban underclass from
the ofcial narrative rested on the premise that the government and
its elite leadership effectively represented order and progress. At rst
the September 16, 1897, incident in which a social outcast, Arnulfo
Arroyo, assaulted President Porrio Daz during a military parade
seemed to conrm this idea. Arroyo, a former law student, possessed
a reputation as a shiftless troublemaker. This notoriety was said to
have prompted an incident on the evening following the assault, in
which several armed and angry residents allegedly broke into police
headquarters and lynched Arroyo.
The death of Dazs would-be assassin seemed like popular retri-
bution, but a series of developments in the following weeks would
unmask the illusion. Following leads, the capitals newspapers revealed
that the lynch mob had actually been composed entirely of police
ofcers dressed in traditional peasant clothing. Naturally, a scandal
ensued, which was made worse by the suicide of Eduardo Velzquez,
Mexico Citys police chief and the mastermind behind Arroyos murder.
Introduction 9
Despite a subsequent trial and sentencing of the ofcers involved in
the lynching, questions remained. This incident, the focus of chapter
6, illustrates how elite pretensions of moral superiority were under-
mined by actions undertaken by the police and the government.
Imagining a People
The cases in this book are of course not completely representative
of the history of crime in Mexico. Instead, they are powerful cultural
narratives that tell us much about how the state, through its elite
representatives, forged ideas about crime and society. I chose these
six cases because each contained important and powerful elements
that eshed out Porrian Mexico, allowing us to see in detail the
daily lives of ordinary people. What emerges in the end is a complex
world that intimately links the state with the lives of previously invis-
ible historical actors.17
It is this link that interests me. Among some of the issues examined
by William E. French in his article in the landmark May 1999 issue
of The Hispanic American Historical Review are the topics of agency and
power. French concludes that agency, an important component of
how cultural history is written, can also be seen as how people have
been imagined. Together with a reading of power relationships, the
imagined underworld can be visualized from two perspectives. First,
of course, is the elite view, which informs this study. After all, what is
crime but a construction of those in power? The inhabitants of Mexico
Citys slums did not see their world as a criminal culture but realized
that the state often viewed their actions as criminal. This leads us to
the second perspective, the one emanating from the underclass itself.
While this study does not pretend to be a history of subalterns, it does
offer a look into their lives, permitting us to examine how the poor
viewed crime and negotiated with it (and the state).18
This brings me to another point. In telling these stories, I employ
a narrative approach that emphasizes the actions and languages uti-
lized by the urban inhabitants of late nineteenth-century Mexico City.
It is not intended to mirror the sensationalistic approach used by the
Porrian press, but rather to highlight the ebb and ow of a particu-
lar case. Essentially, I am telling stories about crimes in a way that
10 Introduction
opens doors to the past and lets us imagine the intricacies of daily life
in a world long gone. And since these accounts highlight criminal
actions, they are by their nature infused with descriptions of violence.
Remaining true to my narrative approach, I have chosen to retain the
often lurid descriptions of the crimes. I feel this approach strengthens
the accounts described in the study, improving their potency.
In the end I am simply telling stories in the best Mexican tradition.
The historical actors described in this book were not revolutionar-
ies, but men and women who lived their lives according to passions
we can only infer. Perhaps, as indicated by the testimony of some,
nancial gain was the chief motivating reason to commit a crime.
For others lust was the key. Yet others were in the wrong place at
the wrong time or maybe were related to the wrong people. For the
members of Mexico Citys urban underclass then, crime was part of
everyday life, a life that was increasingly shaped by the remarkable
late nineteenth-century Mexican state.
Introduction 11
1
Charting the Imagined City
They always nd dead bodies around here.Francisco Guerrero, El

Chalequero, court testimony, 1908
in july 1908 the Mexico City newspaper El Imparcial published a

series of articles on La Bolsa, an impoverished neighborhood located
in the capitals northeastern periphery. Like the polluted Rio del Con-
sulado, La Bolsa harbored a sinister reputation among the Porrian
upper classes. Yet the neighborhood also fascinated readers, who av-
idly consumed reports on the latest crimes of passion to occur there.
Hoping to capitalize on this morbid interest, the newspaper sent a
reporter to the colonia. The subsequent series made for interesting
reading. The unnamed reporter began his journey by describing, in
a suspenseful tone, his entry into La Bolsa. As if descending into the
outer circles of hell, the urban voyager noted that the buildings be-
came more dilapidated as he walked deeper into the neighborhood.
Chasing away hungry children, he eventually managed to secure the
services of a guide. Then came the crucial part: contact with the lo-
cals. The reporter interviewed several residents, noting their apparent
primitive living conditions and coarse language. Finally, despite the
objections raised by one inhabitant, he concluded that La Bolsa was a
source of infection, evil and infamy and should be torn down.1
The reporters safari-like expedition to La Bolsa, similar to Josph
Conrads traveler in Heart of Darkness, offers a compelling look not
only at the urban outskirts of late Porrian Mexico City, but also at the
mentalit of the urban elite as well. Ignorant of La Bolsas true nature
as a refuge for poverty-stricken immigrants from rural Mexico, the
reporter instead conjured an image to suit the needs and desires of
the capitals upper class, which tended to view the poor as the source
of an imaginary contagion and colonias such as La Bolsa as literal
cesspools of lust and vice. In the reporters eyes La Bolsa represented
the actual location of the other side, an idea that had festered in the
public consciousness for over twenty years.
Yet where did this idea come from? Porrian elites in general viewed
colonias populares as being only part of a larger world partially hidden
from view. By the late nineteenth century Mexico City contained dozens
of working-class neighborhoods as well as hundreds of pulqueras,
tenement houses, bordellos, cheap eateries, and ophouses. These
cultural spaces served as havens for an urban underclass that elites
viewed with increasing apprehension. For the poor, however, they
were locations where social networks were established and reafrmed.
The citys several cemeteries as well as its two main prisons, Beln
and Lecumberri, functioned in the same way despite the objections
of elite critics. Yet while the urban poor viewed and used this cultural
topography for either pleasure or social networking, the citys elite
class perceived it differently. Mexico Citys newspapers popularized
this perception, as did numerous government reports and travelers
accounts. As a result elites invented a criminal underworld and placed
it among and within the world of the urban poor.
Center of Empire
For the Porrian government, Mexico City functioned not only as
the nexus of national power, but as the center of the elite concept of
order and progress as well. Consequently, the capitals elites strove
to control the citys burgeoning underclass. The regime, for exam-
ple, maintained Mexico Citys traditional division into eight principal
demarcations, or districts. Each district, in turn, contained numerous
colonias, or neighborhoods, some ofcial and others not. Further
Charting the Imagined City 13
outside the city but within the larger Federal District one could locate
all sorts of small hamlets and towns, connected to the capital through
a network of roads and rail lines. This ofcial topography, however,
clashed with the real city, a patchwork of poor colonias and barrios
intimately known to their inhabitants. It was this city that concerned
the elite class.2
History, immigration, and popular lore had combined to form the
basis for the urban underworld. In search of economic opportunity
and pleasure, the underclass wandered Mexico City at will, constantly
challenging authorities. Like colonial Bourbon reformers who tried
to control public behavior, Porrian elites believed that by regulating
pulqueras and other working-class hangouts, they could effectively
limit the underclasss social activities.3 This was wishful thinking.
Mexico Citys poor frequently disobeyed rules and ordinances govern-
ing their behavior or aunted their ignorance of such restrictions.
Immigration from the countryside to the city provided the foun-
dation for elite concerns. After several decades of economic growth,
Mexicos population had grown to 12 million in 1895, the date of the
rst reliable census. Additionally, internal economic dislocation had
fed a wave of immigration to the Federal District and to the capital.
In 1877, for example, Mexico Citys population had stood at about
230,000. In 1900 it was 344,721 and by 1910, at the end of the Porrian
era, it was 471,066. A sizable percentage of the capitals population,
as high as 40 percent, was younger than thirty. Porrian elites viewed
this trend as worrisome.4
Consequently, the government attempted to control the situation
by installing police substations in each of the eight districts. Much
like their colonial counterparts in Asia and Africa, municipal admin-
istrators relied on the practice of dividing a geographic space up into
regulated zones, facilitating governance.5 Although the location of
each substation often changed, the network of districts remained
rooted in a somewhat haphazard layout. For example, the ofcial
grid began with District One, which was located in the northeastern
sector of the capital. Precincts Three, Five, and Seven were situated
toward the west. Likewise, along the southern tier, Precinct Two was
in the east, with Four, Six, and Eight following to the west. The size
14 Charting the Imagined City
and shape of each precinct was irregular, the heritage of old colo-
nial boundaries and even pre-Hispanic borders, and as a result one
could not classify an entire section as either safe or dangerous; for
instance, the northern part of Precinct Three was considered risky,
but its southern section, which reached the city center, was relative-
ly safe thanks to the numerous police patrols posted on downtown
street corners.6
Municipal ofcials went to great lengths to regulate the develop-
ment of the urban colonias that made up each district, believing some
to be perpetual sources of crime and disorder. In 1875 the Mexico
City council passed a law that required anyone intent on forming a
new neighborhood to apply for a permit rst and provide informa-
tion regarding the proposed projects viability.7 The 1875 regulations
represented the rst attempt to impose a sense of order on neigh-
borhood development, since many of those already in existence had
evolved informally throughout the nineteenth century. While some
colonias were planned, others possessed an older heritage, having
grown out of the old Indian parcialidades, or barrios. As the capital
grew they were slowly absorbed and urbanized, but their traditional
character remained. Political stability, the move by the wealthy out
of the downtown area into newly planned neighborhoods, the immi-
gration of rural Mexicans into poor sections, and most importantly,
the advent of Porrian modernity were all factors that led to the
creation of Mexico Citys colonias.8
Porrian urban modernity meant technological advances such as
sewers and running water, as opposed to the open privies that tended
to exist in the poorer neighborhoods. The capitals most impover-
ished areas were located primarily along the eastern, northeastern,
and southeastern parts of the city, with many being located along
the periphery where the city melted into the countryside. In a sense
these colonias were not really part of the metropole but lay outside
its cultural modernity, informally belonging to the countryside. In
contrast the safest and newest developments were found in the west-
ern parts of the city along the Paseo de la Reforma, a stately boule-
vard that was one of the favorite hangouts of the well-to-do. Police
protection was good in this section as well as in the downtown area,
places that were generally regarded as the capitals most beautiful
and cultured sections. In the poor zones, however, police presence
lessened and sometimes disappeared altogether. While historians
have generally labeled modern Mexico City colonias such as Roma
and Condesa as being the quintessential Porrian development, we
must also consider poor neighborhoods such as La Bolsa as essen-
tially Porrian, since they were very much a product of the regimes
economic policies.9
The History of the Other Side

Located in close proximity to Lake Texcoco, by the late nineteenth
century a desiccated shadow of its former self, District One, home
to colonias such as La Bolsa, was widely regarded by elites as the
capitals most dangerous and unhealthy zone. In the opening nar-
rative, the metropolitan voyeur who visited La Bolsa stumbled into
what contemporary observers said was the cradle of crime. Travelers
described the barrios streets as unpaved and dusty, subject to ood-
ing and muddy conditions during the rainy season. It was called a
native ghetto by at least one guidebook, and visitors were urged to
avoid its dirty and microbic streets, where repulsive sights and
evil smells were said to offend decent people and where makeshift
shacks dominated the landscape. Conditions in La Bolsa were gener-
ally considered inferior in comparison to those in the rest of the city,
but there were vague plans to remedy the situation. In 1903 some resi-
dents petitioned the city council for paved streets and public lighting.
The city turned down that request, citing that it had never approved
the colonias development in the rst place.10
La Bolsas location and relatively inexpensive living costs made it
a natural destination for Mexicans just arrived in the Federal District.
However, the neighborhoods isolation and the character of those
very same immigrants contributed to a perception that criminal activ-
ity was commonplace. Elites imagined the worst. For example, the
journalist from El Imparcial described a fanciful pulquera called Los
Templados, or The Brave Ones. Allegedly, the buildings walls were
decorated with murals depicting ght scenes, murders, and wounded
peasants. Pulqueras, situated mostly on street corners and colorfully
Fig. 1. Los Templados. El Imparcial, July 3, 1908.
painted with murals, frequently attracted the ire of elites who judged
them as sources of crime and prostitution. Los Templados may or
may not have existed, but as a representation of crime it held a rm
place in the ofcial imagination. Metropolitan elites also extended
their views to include La Bolsas residents, using labels such as indi-
gent, drunk, and sinister looking to dene the average inhab-
itant. One critic, for example, recorded that the women of La Bolsa
resembled witches and possessed names such as Wolf Lady and
the Donkey. Additionally, in the colonia one could nd hangouts
such as The Fork of the Devil, The Little Sprout, and The White
House. At night what electricity or gas existed was turned on, and
music began to waft out of the local joints.11
Porrian elites, in their ofcial descriptions of La Bolsa, fashioned a
narrative opposite to the national credo of order and progress. However,
such accounts served the same purpose: essentially, to validate the
ideal city by labeling impoverished neighborhoods and their resi-
dents as diseased and crime ridden. For example, El Imparcial com-
mented that La Bolsa originated in the early 1880s as a work camp for
railroad workers. As time passed the colonia de-evolved, along with
its inhabitants, into a nest of crime. In a sense then, La Bolsa repre-

sented the perils that awaited the Porrian order. From its origins
rooted in modernity (the railroad), the colonia had instead become
a haven for thieves and murderers, the opposites of progress. Such
depictions were hardly rare. Anne McClintock notes that Londons
novelists and writers transformed that citys East End into a colonial
landscape inhabited by people with no history. Urban explorers who
journeyed into the district became assured of their moral superior-
ity when contrasted with the slums fetid reputation. Porrian elites
employed a similar outlook and used the same terms when describ-
ing La Bolsas buildings, streets, and residents.12
La Bolsas story was repeated countless times with ofcial descrip-
tions of other peripheral colonias, including La Maza, Valle Gmez,
Morelos, Del Rastro, and the old Indian barrios of Tepito, San
Sebastin, and Carmen, among others. Tepito, whose original name
was Mecamalinco, dated from colonial times. By the 1880s the neigh-
borhood had shed its indigenous name but had retained the poverty,
transforming it into a dangerous zone in the eyes of metropolitan
observers. Fattened by thousands of rural migrants who either lived in
imsy dwellings or moved into tenement buildings, Tepito acquired
an exotic reputation and an aura of criminality even though many of
its residents were mainly working-class artisans. It still possesses
this notoriety today.13
As for the rest of the colonias in the precinct, the story was the
same. Valle Gmez, for instance, contained little or no services, since
its unauthorized development freed the city fathers from providing
basic utilities such as water and sewage. Although a mounted detach-
ment of police was posted in the vicinity, crime was still rampant.
In 1899, in a particularly gruesome incident, two laborers, Alberto
Zuniga and Camilo Mimbera, surprised ve men who were stealing
supplies from a work camp. Zuniga and Mimbera foolishly tried to
prevent the theft and for their efforts were immediately attacked by
the armed gang. Both men ed across an adjacent putrid canal, but
Mimbera slipped. The thieves pounced on him, disemboweling him
with furious strokes from their knives. When the police eventually
arrived, Mimbera was dead, his intestines, according to the newspa-
per report, oating in the polluted water.14
The elites use of powerful language that described colonias popula-
res in violent terms also included an emphasis on morality. El Imparcials
journalist summed it up best when he stated that La Bolsa was mor-
ally a bad place because its lthy streets and ruined houses were made
especially for criminal activity. The colonial gaze was clearly evident.
By depicting La Bolsa and its sister neighborhoods in these terms,
Porrian elites labeled the urban poor as morally corrupt and simul-
taneously uplifted themselves as superior arbiters. Ofcial concerns
with hygiene inuenced this thinking. Government authorities as well
as newspaper editors believed that if the poor were cleaner, they would
be less prone to commit criminal acts. The economic basis for poverty
was ignored; the government focused on what was wrong with poor
Mexicans, not what was wrong with Mexican society.15
Ofcial descriptions of District Three likewise condemned the poor
and their world. Regarded as dangerous and crime infested, this dis-
trict harbored two of the most dangerous colonias in the capital,
Peralvillo and Santa Ana. Peralvillo lay at the northern edges of the
district, along the fetid Rio del Consulado, which served as the loca-
tion for countless assaults and murders. The neighborhood gained
fame in the 1880s as the haunt of Francisco Guerrero, a serial killer
also known by his nickname El Chalequero. Guerreros crimes,
which included the rape and murder of several women, were aided
substantially by the regions relative geographical and political isola-
tion. One observer stated that Peralvillo was full of all the vices and
miseries the capital could produce. Moreover, both Peralvillo and
Santa Ana were well-known centers of prostitution. Conrming some
elite fantasies, prostitutes took advantage of the numerous pulqueras
in the region as well as isolated spaces such as the adjacent Plains
of Alcanfores, a eld where one could escape from prying eyes. The
region also possessed a curious mix of the sacred and the modern,
exemplied by the terminals for the National and Hidalgo railways;
the Misterios, a series of religious monuments lining the road to the
town of Guadalupe-Hidalgo; and the old Hipodromo de Peralvillo race-
track. Perhaps reecting ofcial concerns about crime, the racetrack
was moved in 1910 to the safer colonia Condesa. While the National
Railway terminal was generally considered safe, the station for the
Hidalgo Railway, which took travelers to the state of Hidalgo and points
in between, possessed a dangerous reputation among the educated,
who most likely blamed the crime there on its rural clientele.16
The remaining districts along the northern tier, Five and Seven, were
generally considered safer by observers. The working-class colonia
Guerrero was located in District Five. One of the largest neighbor-
hoods in the city, Guerrero began as a barrio for artisans and workers
and even contained some middle-class housing in the sections bor-
dering the Alameda Park. The colonia also harbored a large number
of tenement buildings and pulqueras. Guerreros location adjacent
to the Alameda afforded some residents access to police protection,
but ofcers were mainly concentrated near the leafy park, not in the
outlying streets. Nearby in District Seven stood the massive train depot
for the Mexican-Central as well as the colonia Santa Mara la Ribera. In
contrast to Guerrero, Santa Mara was mostly middle class in nature
and had originally been home to numerous colonial-era estates. The
old saying the other side of the tracks literally applied here, with
the two colonias separated only by the sprawling lines of the station.
Also in the vicinity were the colonia Chopo and, along the western
edges of the district, the colonias of Tlaxpana, Santo Toms, and
Santa Julia, all belonging to the municipality of Tacuba.17
During the Porriato, Santa Julia received plenty of bad press due
to the exploits of Jess Negrete, El Tigre de Santa Julia, a bandit,
womanizer, and murderer who prowled the Federal District in the
rst decade of the twentieth century. Negrete made the colonia Santa
Julia his favorite hangout, since many of its residents periodically
gave him shelter there. The colonia had a bad reputation as a source
of crime, making it, in effect, the western counterpart to La Bolsa.
In 1909, for example, press reports played up the story of a young
woman who had left her parents house for a life of excitement only
to end up dead in the murky waters of the Rio San Joaqun, a stream
located on the southern edges of the colonia. Police surmised that the
woman had fallen prey to several men in the Alameda de Anzures, a
broad expanse of wilderness located near Chapultepec Castle. The
unknown assailants, police theorized, killed the victim in the park and
dragged her body to the river. Workers traveling to outlying hacien-
das discovered the corpse. Although her assailants were never found,
police concluded that the killers must have come from the underclass;
therefore, agents distributed photographs of the corpse in pulqueras
in hopes of identifying the killers.18
Mexico Citys southern tier of precincts and colonias also pos-
sessed a mixed reputation. In the southeast corner was Precinct Two,
which contained San Lzaro, Santa Anita, Candelaria de los Patos,
La Soledad, La Palma, San Pablo, San Pedro, and Santa Cruz. As one
can guess from the names, most of these colonias grew up around
churches. San Lzaro, for example, began its existence as a colonial
village, but as the capital grew it became a working-class suburb. In
1900 the National Penitentiary, Mexicos rst modern prison, opened
its doors in the colonia. Also in the vicinity was Jurez Hospital, a
favorite destination for crime victims. The colonias working-class
orientation made it the site for industrial concerns that no doubt
added an unhealthy atmosphere, such as a pig slaughterhouse, which
produced lard, candles, and soap. Further south, in Zoquipa, was the
citys refuse dump.19
The Canal de la Viga was an important landmark in the area. The
canal, originating in Xochimilco, served as a route for bringing agri-
cultural products from the outlying areas of the valley to the city but
also doubled in some sections as an open sewer. But this role was
secondary to the canals unofcial purpose as a working-class park.
Traditionally, well-to-do Mexicans had always enjoyed a stroll along
the picturesque canal. Several villages dotted the canals route, the
most famous being Santa Anita, with its profusion of shops, restau-
rants, and pulqueras, all packed on holidays with hungry people eat-
ing tamales and drinking fruit-avored pulque. However, during the
Porriato Santa Anita and the canal in general acquired an unsavory
reputation as the scene for many bloody ghts. One observer stated
that one sure way to know if Santa Anita had been lightly attended
or not on Sunday was to read the Monday papers about the number
of ghts that had broken out. In 1896 police began to implement
a semblance of law and order in the vicinity, preventing ghts and
restricting pulque sales, and as a result people of more reason began
to frequent Santa Anita. Still, this did not distract from the areas
plebian reputation, and the canal continued to attract mainly work-
ing-class families.20
Porrian elites felt more at home in the capitals downtown, with
its mixture of shops and fashionable restaurants. The northern part of
District Four, for instance, encompassed the Zcalo and the Plateros
Street business district. This was the heart of the government, with
both national and municipal government ofces as well as police head-
quarters located in the precinct. During the Porriato, the Zcalo was
a tree-lled square surrounded by streetcar lines. But at night prosti-
tutes and amorous couples frequented the area. As home to numerous
hotels, businesses, and government ofces, the downtown area was
heavily patrolled, but that did not prevent the poor and, as we shall
see, criminal elements from claiming its public spaces.21
The City of Palaces still possessed a large number of colonial build-
ings during the late nineteenth century, and many could be found in
District Six. During the Porriato this region grew rapidly. In the mid-
1880s the lower-class cemetery of Campo Florido marked its southern
boundary, but by 1910 new streets had been laid out to include the
Panten Francs to the south. Several notable landmarks and sections
were located in the district, including the colonias Hidalgo and San
Antonio Abad, the Ciudadela, the fountain of Salto de Agua, and the
municipal jail, or Beln. Taverns and public boarding houses, known
as mesones, were commonplace, with certain zones considered danger-
ous. One of these was the Barrio del Nio Perdido. Contemporaries
described the neighborhood as beset by pestilent miasmas that
produced an asphyxiating atmosphere. Tenement housing was
common. Observers, fascinated with the lives of the poor, described
the tenements in sad but exotic terms, with families living in close,
crowded conditions and naked children running around. Residents,
picking though the numerous trash heaps that dotted the area, were
often accompanied by starving dogs, lthy pigs, and the ever-present
zopilotes, or vultures. One observers statement that farthest from
the inuence of civilization, the hand of government does not reach
there applied to Nio Perdido and its neighbors. Other barrios in
the district sported exotic-sounding names such as Tlaxcoaque and
Santa Cruz Actlan, reminders of an indigenous past.22
Along the southwestern edges of the city lay the future of Mexico
City, or so elites liked to think. Although some colonias in District
Eight were lower middle class, such as the colonia San Rafael, the
neighborhoods situated along the Paseo de la Reforma and Avenida
Veracruz (todays Insurgentes Sur) were distinctly modern develop-
ments. Colonias Cuauhtmoc, Jurez, Roma, and Condesa were situ-
ated there, their design an eclectic mix of European-style architecture
and Porrian dreams. Overlooked by Chapultepec Castle, the elegant
streets and spacious homes of the rich stood in marked contrast to
the squalid homes in Santa Julia or to the more rural adobes in the
municipality of Tacubaya, a nearby village that was in the process
of turning into an upper-class weekend retreat. Residents of these
colonias had little to fear from crime and the underclass, except for
beggars and household staff that stole from their employers.23
Dens of Delight
For the urban underclass, life in the capital presented constant chal-
lenges but also endless opportunities for pleasure. While disease,
unemployment, hunger, and crime posed dangers, drinking, prosti-
tution, and gambling offered escapes from the pressures of city life.
Although elites also drank, gambled, and frequented bordellos, their
version of these activities was not to be condemned. Instead, they criti-
cized the urban poor for drinking pulque and spending their wages on
card games and prostitutes. For elites these activities were not modern
in the Porrian sense, but potentially dangerous activities.24
For many poor capitalinos, or residents of the capital, life revolved
around pulque. The numbers tell part of the story. In 1864 Mexico
City could ofcially count 51 taverns within its connes. By 1885 this
number had risen to 817. In 1901 ofcials claimed there were 946 pul-
queras that were open during the day and another 356 that opened
exclusively at night. In fact pulque may have accounted for over 90
percent of all alcohol consumed in the city. The Porriato was clearly
the golden age of pulque, yet the drink frequently found itself the
target of elite criticism for different reasons.25
Perhaps one of those reasons lay in its origin. Pulque was (and is)
distinctly indigenous. Observers often noted its alleged mystical quali-
ties, noting that its production was steeped in popular Catholic lore,
with workers chanting Ave Maras as the pulque fermented. Moreover,
the drink was produced in maguey plantations that dotted the Federal
District, Mexico State, and Hidalgo, giving it a rural character that it
still possesses today. Finally, many contemporary critics believed pul-
que to be addictive, much like opium, and since the vast majority of
its customers were poor and Indian (one and the same, according to
the wealthy) the substance was criticized for making the indigenous
and poor population lazy, violent, and even superstitious.26
Yet pulque was big business. Hacienda workers toiled under harsh
conditions to deliver the product on an almost daily basis to the capi-
tal. After the liquid was removed from the hollowed-out heart of the
maguey plant and allowed to ferment, workers poured it into barrels
for transport to Mexico Citys many neighborhoods, where it was
quickly distributed to individual taverns.27 These were located in prac-
tically every district, but particularly in One and Two. In fact these two
areas and the blocks east of the Zcalo accounted for the majority of
locations. Pulque was also consumed in small restaurants and food
stands, popular with the afternoon lunch crowd. People found it for
sale as well in tiendas (stores that sold dry goods and food), almuerceras
(breakfast eateries), and puestos (impromptu stands that opened when
the pulqueras closed). Pulque was cheaply priced, as low as seven
cents a liter. A few pennies purchased a glass, and these ranged in
size from one-fourth of a liter to a full liter. The most common serv-
ings were in half-liter crystal glasses called cacaricitas.28
Pulqueras were easy to locate. As one critic lamented, all one had to
do was follow the smell. They were usually situated in corner buildings
with brightly painted murals on the exterior and interior walls that
depicted famous battles, seminude women, or whimsical portrayals
of daily life. They sported colorful names, such as El Asalto (The
Assault) and the aptly named Sal si Puedes (Get Out If You Can).
Names often evoked sensual pleasures, much to the disgust of crit-
ics, who complained of the ridiculous titles. Pulqueras certainly
had festive atmospheres, with music and games available to entertain
customers. One favorite game of chance was rayuela, which consisted
of throwing coins through a hole in a board with the goal of winning
a free drink. Interiors were divided into a seating area and a bar, on
which a line of multishaped glasses was displayed. Patrons could
order pulque either puro (plain) or in a fruit-avored variety, known
as a curado. The liquid resembled a milky-white substance, with quali-
ties ranging from slimy to acrid to foul and with a smell described as
resembling slightly putrid meat. Often it was adulterated with sewer
water, and it commonly produced stomach and intestinal problems.
Pulque boasted a low alcoholic content, so customers had to drink
large amounts to feel any effects.29
Elites lamented that poor Mexicans preferred to spend all their
days and nights drinking. Although more a result of ction than fact,
beliefs like these led to increased interest in pulqueras from police,
government ofcials, self-appointed reformers, the Roman Catholic
Church, and even the owners themselves, who jealously guarded their
turf from competitors. One of the most common complaints cen-
tered on their hygienic atmosphere. Passersby frequently complained
about the stench that permeated the establishments and the condi-
tions inside, such as dirt oors and exposed urinals. For example,
La Selva, situated on the corner of Calle Sol and Humboldt in the
colonia Guerrero, was representative of the typical pulquera. In 1901
its owners found themselves under ofcial scrutiny when the rest-
room broke down. Instead, customers were forced to use a large bar-
rel. Another pulquera, situated on the Ribera de San Cosme on the
borders between Districts Seven and Eight, also became the target
of complaints when its urinal broke down and the pulque it usually
sold began to putrefy. Pulque that remained unsold at the end of the
day usually decayed, producing a smell that frequently elicited waves
of complaints.30
Elites believed that the pulque trade was primitive, but in actuality
it possessed a measure of sophistication. For example, owners often
attempted to enlarge the scope of their business by hosting contests.
In one instance the proprietors of El Rancho de los Tlachiqueros,
situated in the colonia Peralvillo, distributed yers advertising their
Colorado label pulque, declaring it without rival. The owners added
that prizes would be given away on their grand opening and on every
Sunday afterward and that home delivery was available for those unable
to visit the new establishment. At times it seemed as if everyone wanted
to get into the act. In 1901 Cresencio Gutirrez applied for permission
to give away a draft of pulque with his tacos in his street stand. He
sold his tacos for four cents and wanted to give pulque shots worth
one cent each, a small quantity but a smart business move since it
would bring in additional customers. Municipal authorities denied
his request, because they feared all the other taco sellers on the street
would do the same. Pulqueras were indeed thriving businesses as
well as informal clubs for the underclass and not the typical dens of
iniquity that were described by elite observers.31
Still, elite opinion remained unchanged. In 1909, during the apex
of the last Porrian antipulque campaign, El Imparcial published a
scathing attack on the ancient drink. In a one-page illustration titled
The National Poison, an artist depicted a rural scene where a man
was harvesting pulque amid a forest of maguey plants. The landscape
looked dark and chaotic and was meant to imply that maguey planta-
tions were places of evil. The bottom panels were even more interest-
ing. One depicted two workers pouring the liquid into large vats as
a supervisor looked on. An emaciated dog could be seen stretching
his body to take a gulp. Another illustration showed a street corner
occupied by a pulquera called The Babylon of the Artesans, while
yet another scene illustrated the interior. A worker, clearly of indig-
enous origin, could be seen pouring pulque into a large barrel, while
the portly mestizo proprietor, wearing a charro outt, looked on. The
critical advertisement was framed by two drawings of Indians, one of
them drunk, the other gulping down a large glass with some pulque
obscenely trickling down his chin.32
Reformers believed pulque was behind most of the crimes commit-
ted in the capital. In 1893, for instance, a government report claimed
that 26,153 people had been arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct
during that year alone. Miguel Macedo, a cientco with close ties to
the government, wrote in 1897 that crime rates had risen steadily since
the early Porriato, a development Macedo clearly blamed on alco-
hol. He noted that in 1896 alone, 29,729 arrests were made for pub-
lic drunkenness. Clearly Macedo, like other elite reformers, believed
that the citys perceived high crime rate was caused by widespread
consumption of pulque.33
It is unclear if the arrest rates for public drunkenness were the
result of better statistical gathering methods, increased arrests, or
even higher immigration rates. Perhaps it was a combination of all
these factors. However, the increased use of statistical data to back
up elite concerns about criminality clearly reected a growing ofcial
obsession with pulque. One can even safely conclude that the Porrian
regimes increased regulatory stance led to the formation of an infor-
mal national industry concerned with the production of ofcial reports
and newspaper editorials all focused on the beverage.
For elites, pulques alleged ties to criminality centered on its sup-
posed degenerative effects. Since most of its customers were poor,
pulque became synonymous with the urban underclass, contributing
to the popular perception that the poor were usually drunk and prone
to commit violent acts. Intent on enacting a form of social control,
government ofcials passed a series of laws in 1901 and 1902 aimed at
curbing the industrys excessive growth. Pulqueras were required to
apply for licenses and be located at least sixty meters from each other.
Hours were restricted from 6:00 a.m. to 6:30 p.m., thus forcing the
establishments to close before most workers left their jobs. They were
also prohibited from opening in certain areas, especially in the streets
surrounding the Alameda, where tourists were likely to congregate.
After the new regulations were in place, municipal ofcials were more
apt to deny new permits, as Alfredo Saldivar found out in 1901 when
his request to open a tavern near the Alameda was denied. Ofcials,
fearful that pulqueras would attract poor residents to the center of
the city, instead opted for slowly pushing the establishments toward
outlying neighborhoods. Other regulations prohibited food, music,
games, and seats and chairs on the premises, a deliberate attempt
to make the businesses as uncomfortable to visit as possible. The
government was apparently serious about the new laws, and records
indicate that ofcials at least tried to enforce them.34
The complaints, however, kept coming in. In February 1903 the
municipal government issued new regulations intended to further
restrict sales. Ofcials, reecting a popular opinion among educated
Mexicans, alleged that on Sunday afternoons the vast majority of the
working-class population dedicated itself to dulling its senses by con-
suming large quantities of the popular drink, leading to numerous
ghts that kept the overworked police force busy.35 There was some
truth to this assertion, since most Mexicans did not work on Sundays
and many preferred to spend the day with their families, drinking
and eating. Guillermo Landa y Escandn, the governor of the Federal
District during the last decade of Porrian rule, obviously knew this
and wanted all pulque sales to end at noon on Sundays. Pulquera
and cantina owners responded with outrage, and some skirted the
law by selling closed bottles of liquor. The outcry prompted Ramn
Corral, the minister of Gobernacon, to allow extended hours for liquor
and pulque sales. However, difculties continued between owners
and inspectors, and even though tighter regulations were allowed
to remain on the books, inspectors could not reasonably patrol the
entire cityor perhaps did not want to.36
Porrian ofcials understood the enormous task of regulating
pulqueras and opted for keeping the establishments away from
places where decent people congregated. In 1905, for instance,
businessman Manuel Chapela asked permission to establish a tavern
on Cartagena Street but was denied permission because the proposed
location was near a stop for the tramcars that serviced the downtown
area. Again echoing elite beliefs, city ofcials stated that pulqueras
attracted vicious people of questionable moral character who usu-
ally gathered outside the buildings and molested passersby. Since the
location would be near a tram stop, ofcials feared that patrons, with
their scandalous and immoral acts, would bother passengers, and
since the city suffered from a shortage of police ofcers, it would be
impossible to post someone in the vicinity. However, city ofcials
were more likely to approve if owners offered to help pay for an of-
cer to be posted nearby, as in 1883 when Abundio Hernndez, Juan
Garca del Castillo, and Manuel Padilla applied for a permit to open
a pulquera in the San Lzaro area. The trio offered to contribute to
the maintenance of several police ofcers, who would be posted not
only in the business, but also in the surrounding vicinity. Authorities,
aware that the San Lzaro area was not exactly the citys high-society
spot, approved the request.37
Despite their unrelenting criticism, Porrian elites realized that enor-
mous prots could be made from the production, sale, and consump-
tion of pulque. In 1909, in the midst of the media campaign designed
to curtail pulque consumption, several prominent Porrians, including
Francisco Bulnes, Pablo Macedo, Fernando Pimentel y Fagoaga, and
Guillermo Landa y Escandn, formed the Compaa Expendedora de
Pulques. The trust sought, among other things, to take over all the
pulqueras in the city, raise prices, and prevent the watering down of
pulque, claiming that pure pulque was better because it made patrons
drunk quicker, thus preventing more consumption. The trust also
targeted deant owners who would not sell by undercutting them
with cheaper prices and additional taverns strategically placed nearby.
The trust claimed their motives were moralistic, but since Landa y
Escandn owned a pulque-producing hacienda, prot was obviously
a major motive behind the initiative.38
During the Porriato, pulqueras were intimately associated with
the prostitution trade. Elite commentators liked to criticize pulque
for providing the lax morals that encouraged prostitution, but the
truth was that pulqueras were usually the most popular places in
local neighborhoods, and as a result prostitution was likely to our-
ish there. Indeed, prostitution was legal. As Catherine Bliss points
out, it was an integral part of the sexual world of Porrian Mexico
City, seen by elites as necessary to prevent evils such as homosexuality
from infecting the Mexican family. Porrian observers focused not so
much on the trade itself but on the women who practiced it, studying
the reasons for their supposed downfall. This concern with moral-
ity underlay the elite obsession with one particular aspect concerning
prostitution: its supposed link with the underworld.39
Statistics collected during the period illustrate some of these con-
cerns. The average prostitute was single, between the ages of fteen
and twenty. Most came from working-class backgrounds, but some
reported that they were the daughters of middle-class professionals.
Usually, economics played a central role in why women chose pros-
titution, with many reporting that they had no other means to sur-
vive. However, some allegedly entered into the profession by being
seduced and then abandoned. Upon entering the business, women
could either choose to be legally registered or not. If they were reg-
istered, they had to carry a small book, termed a libreta, and pro-
duce it on demand, usually to an inspector from the sanitary police.
Unregistered or clandestine prostitutes carried no such record and
were subject to arbitrary arrest. According to an 1887 regulation, reg-
istered prostitutes fell into three categories: aisladas, eventuales, and
those of the bordello. Women who were aisladas lived on their own
and usually practiced out of their home. Women who were eventuales
used houses of assignation, also known as casas de cita, locations run
by a matrona (madam) but where no prostitutes lived. Finally, wom-
en who belonged to the comunidad lived and worked in bordellos.
Regardless of their specic place of employment, all prostitutes were
categorized as rst, second, third, or fourth class. The criteria for this
depended on the age and desirability of the woman, with those from
the rst class commanding high prices.40
Bordellos, houses of assignation, and other places frequented by
prostitutes were found in many of Mexico Citys neighborhoods,
although they were usually located away from heavily traveled streets.
Most rst-class prostitutes lived and worked in bordellos. These busi-
nesses were usually headed by women, sometimes assisted by men who
were either boyfriends, drug trafckers, or delinquents, all under the
houses employ. Madams required a portion of every girls earnings,
usually half, but from this amount clothes and other items that were
initially advanced were deducted, and the women, many of them illit-
erate, would fall into debt. The key was to prevent them from eeing,
and all sorts of methods were used. According to one elite observer,
a favored trick was to promote a love affair with a visiting client or
another woman. A girl who fell in love with a man found out quickly
enough that the client would ask her for money, and the girl, in order
to survive, had to borrow money from the madam, who was only too
happy to see her employee fall into more debt. Some madams also
actively promoted lesbianism, and in doing so it was hoped that the
girl would be more reluctant to leave. If she did depart, she might be
arrested for a trumped-up theft charge or her debt could be sold to
another house in a less-respectable neighborhood. Either way, pros-
titutes who entered into the trade usually had a prolonged stay.41
Semiofcial accounts concerning prostitution were of course writ-
ten by men and thus reected male fantasies more than fact. Yet we
cannot easily dismiss some of these accounts, as many contained
some elements of truth. A thorough examination of the history of
Porrian prostitution lies outside the scope of this study. It should
be noted, however, that elites generally did not condemn the prac-
tice but rather focused on the prostitution of the alleged underworld
and its supposed immorality. Elites in particular feared its effects on
the middle- and upper-class Porrian family. Thus some of the rules
regulating prostitutes clearly reected these anxieties, and perhaps
secret desires as well. For example, prostitutes were required to be
discreet in public, were not to use graphic or foul language, and were
especially forbidden to address men who were walking on the streets
with their wives and children. They were also forbidden to visit health
ofces in groups of three or more, but many did so anyway and alleg-
edly talked about their exams in front of passengers on streetcars.
One specic rule, no doubt enacted due to an exaggerated middle-
class fantasy, ordered prostitutes not to drag men against their will
to bordellos.42
The aforementioned regulations were clearly designed to control
the actions of unregulated prostitutes, since elites believed them to be
fully capable of fondling family men in front of their shocked wives.
To counter the perceived threat from these women, government of-
cials linked the trade to moral degeneracy and improper hygiene. For
instance, critics noted with disgust the proliferation of cheap hotels
that catered not only to prostitutes in general, but also to men and
women intent on satisfying their sexual urges. The terms elites uti-
lized to imagine this sexual underworld were clearly intended to elicit
condemnation. Specic houses of assignation were often singled out
and blamed for nauseating odors. The women who lived there were
described as sad and maybe even living double lives: housewife
and maid by day, working girl by night. Some women were alleged
to regularly meet two clients per night. Yet the harshest criticism was
reserved for poor prostitutes, many of whom wandered the streets at
will and stayed in mesones, or public inns, where their activities were
anything but public. To underscore elite disgust, one report indicated
that these women did not charge money but instead regularly settled
for pulque and cigars.43
Unregulated prostitution posed a grave threat to moral propriety, or
so elites thought. Complaints were endless. On Estanco de Hombres
Street, in District Three, local residents complained of a small hotel
that was home to a large number of working girls. These women
allegedly frequented the colonia Santa Ana, but also conducted their
business at the hotel. The Porrian media gleefully described this
location in a manner intended to elicit shock and perhaps a bit of
voyeurism. Reportedly, passersby were treated to the sight of prosti-
tutes shouting obscene offers from windows and doorways, molest-
ing men and women passing by, and even physically accosting cou-
ples. As if that was not enough, prostitutes and their clients were
seen relieving themselves on the street. This repugnant spectacle
began at dusk and lasted until dawn and was made all the worse by
the stench of the hotel, where toilets for public use, at one cent each,
owed with refuse.44
Other locations in the same precinct attracted ofcial scrutiny. In
1903 the Mexico City paper El Monitor Republicano complained about a
caf, El Nuevo Continente. According to the complaint, which was
quoted in a municipal government report, the caf was often crowded
with men who were lured by the presence of more than eighteen young
waitresses. Apparently, more than coffee was served at the caf, since
the newspaper reported that an anteroom had a ladder that led to an
attic where immoral acts were committed between the waitresses
and the customers. Moreover, the owners had a back door that led
to a neighboring tenement house where all sorts of scandals were
committed. Unfortunately, the report did not elaborate on just what
these acts were. The city did take action and ordered the owners to
correct the situation, but it remains unknown whether the proprietors
heeded the warning. District Three must have been a lively place.45
Critics were especially worried that public spaces where families
congregated could serve as platforms for unregulated prostitution.
In 1906 in Ixtapalapa, a municipality along the Viga Canal, the local
prefect pleaded with municipal ofcials not to grant any more licenses
to food vendors who came to the municipality during the Paseos de
Santa Anita. These vendors, the local ofcial warned, sold not only
food, but also pulque, and thus attracted prostitutes, who apparently
did a thriving business during the festival, which took place before
Lent.46 In Popotla local residents complained that public dances held
at El Golden Park served as a meeting place for prostitutes. The
owners, responding to the complaint, vowed not to allow prostitutes
in, especially on Sunday afternoons when families came to view cin-
ematography shows.47
Porrian fears and obsessions toward prostitution reected deep-
seated anxieties about the urban underclass and its alleged sexual
licentiousness. Elites, in the comfort of their homes, may well have
experienced secret excitement when reading about crimes tinged with
unbridled lust, such as the 1897 murder of the notorious prostitute
Esperanza Gutirrez. In 1903 Federico Gamboa published the novel
Santa, which centered on a ctional prostitute who moved from the
countryside to Mexico City and encountered love, betrayal, and death.48
Gamboa was inspired by the true story of the prostitute Mara Villa,
nicknamed La Chiquita, who shot and killed her rival, Gutirrez,
also known as La Malaguea, in a Mexico City bordello. For her
actions Villa was sentenced to prison.49
William French, in his study on the lives of northern Mexicos middle
and working classes, observed that the middle class acknowledged
the fundamental goals of the Porrian state, which centered on the
development of values revolving around thrift, hard work, sobriety,
and hygiene. As gente decente, the middle class went along with
elite concerns about drinking and other vices, including prostitu-
tion.50 Yet middle- and upper-class critics were also fascinated with
the capitals darker side, as evidenced by the popularity of newspa-
per issues focusing on scandalous crimes. And as we shall see in a
later chapter, some were willing to participate in it at the expense of
their lives.51
Aside from pulque and prostitution, gambling was commonplace
in the city. Horse races, card games, bullghts, and other amusements
were popular, but the relentless march of modernity made certain
activities such as cockghts almost disappear from Mexico City.52 My
survey of Mexico Citys judicial archives during the 1890s revealed a
scarcity of criminal cases revolving around gambling. However, the
capitals municipal government did receive numerous applications
from individuals wishing to open gaming halls. Judging from the lack
of commentary, these applications were routinely approved. Many
included permits for pool halls, poker games, and other assorted ven-
ues. Perhaps cognizant of the potential for trouble, applicants often
referred to their pool halls as academies in an effort to gain some
form of respectability. Persons who attended these game halls had to
pay the owner a percentage if they won. Other proprietors were only
allowed to charge per seat. As William H. Beezley has noted, Porrian
modernity changed the character of popular entertainment in Mexico,
with the result that traditional recreation found itself increasingly
under attack. Perhaps in the spirit of the new age, in 1904 the noted
businessman David Zivy received a permit to host a game in the Hotel
del Jardin that involved bicycles, rings, and billiards. One can only
wonder how the game was actually played.53
The Anteroom of Hell

Drinking, Gambling, Prostitution: the unholy trinity of vice, or so
elites liked to think. Porrians fashioned a world of crime surround-
ing these activities, yet in District Six stood the veritable symbol of
the underworld, Beln prison. Far from a center for rehabilitation,
Beln was a hotbed of criminal activity, a training ground for thieves,
and a noted center of prostitution. It was also a world unto itself. The
prison was housed in a former convent that had closed in 1857 in the
wake of La Reforma. In 1886 the citys prisoners, formerly housed in
the Municipal Palace, were transferred to Beln and the building was
ofcially classied as the new municipal jail.54 The term jail was too
liberal; dumping ground was more appropriate. Beln soon housed
all of the capitals prisoners as well as various criminal courts. The
accused, awaiting trials, spent time in the prison. It was a notorious
building, divided into several sections physically and administratively.
On the top oor was a group of cells known as the Department of
Distinction, where important citizens who had ran afoul of the law
were held. The nefarious Doctor Federico Abrego, who in 1898 was
accused of aborting his unborn child and in the process murdering
his girlfriend, stayed there temporarily. Others included numerous
newspaper editors who had angered Daz and even a police chief,
Eduardo Velzquez, the mastermind behind the Arnulfo Arroyo inci-
dent. The murder sent shockwaves through the highest government
circles. Velzquez, shamed, lost his position and subsequently died
in Beln when he red a bullet into his head (or so the ofcial reports
stated, but Mexicans knew better). Only thirty prisoners could stay
in the suite at one time, but they were treated well, given fresh linens
every day, good food, laundry service, and a daily newspaper. After
all, a gentleman was a gentleman, even in Beln.55
Beln housed a variety of other offenders. One section was called
Los Pericos because youthful offenders were kept there. Most inmates
inhabited the basement and the rst and second oors, with a sepa-
rate section for women. It should be noted that a strict separation
of the sexes did not exist in the prison. Prostitution was reportedly
rampant, destroying the illusion of order. In fact it was the prison-
ers, with government acquiescence, who were in de facto control of
Belns holding cells.56
The worst cells were in the basement and were reserved for soli-
tary connement. According to one survivor, the two most notorious
were called Hell and Purgatory. Both of these rooms possessed
no windows, no sleeping mats, and a hole in the oor for a toilet and
were plagued by constant moisture and ooding. Prisoners feared
these cells the most, and into them went those sentenced to die. Of the
two, Hell was the worst, reeking of constant humidity and nauseat-
ing odors and infested by insects. In both Hell and Purgatory the
worst of the worst were kept, including Francisco Guerrero, alias El
Chalequero, and Bruno Martnez, a member of the gang that com-
mitted the La Profesa Jewelry Store Robbery of 1891. Jess Negrete
also spent time in the cells. Prisoners sentenced to die and unlucky
enough to live through their experiences in the basement had a nal
destination awaiting them: The Garden, a large, irregular open
space, dirty and unkempt, that served as the area where prisoners
were executed by ring squad.57
Beln prison sported its own culture. Inmates effectively ran the
day-to-day operations and held ofcial titles, leaving the administra-
tion to worry about things like inspections or, in all likelihood, relax
in the numerous pulqueras that ringed the prison. Each department
had a leader, known as a Major, and could count on a staff of assis-
tants called Presidents. Order and discipline were serious matters,
evidenced by the function of the President of Blows, whose job it
was to mete out punishment to the prisoners. Other functionaries
included gateros, who served as domestics to other prisoners; pitos
segundos, in charge of cleaning; basureros, who took care of trash duties;
and mulas, homosexual prisoners who wore ironed shirts, nice shoes,
and perfume while sporting nicknames such as La Camelia, La
Princesa, and Los Caracoles. Prisoners also developed an argot,
using terms for common everyday items and people, such as frajo
for cigar, tabique for jail, tando for money, and chagorra for prosti-
tute. These terms functioned as a coded form of communication and
allowed prisoners to import illegal items such as drugs, specically
marijuana, which was known as juanita or mota. Prisoners contended
with living conditions that were difcult or pleasant depending on
the support of family members, the availability of money, or the will-
ingness of corrupt guards.58
Aware of the uncontrolled conditions inside the jail and mindful of
the constant outbreaks of typhus and cholera that plagued the pris-
oners, the government began construction of a new jail, the National
Penitentiary, which was nally nished in 1900 and dedicated on
September 29 of that year in a ceremony attended by the president.59
The new facility was modeled on European and North American
designs and clearly built along Jeremy Benthams panopticon model,
which called for a central spoke with seven arms radiating outward.
According to theory, the design would enable guards to constantly
observe prisoners, acting guratively as the eye of God. Each arm
housed rows of dormitories and was designated by a letter denoting
the type of crime that was committed. Prisoners assigned to the jail
went through the Crofton system, a process that divided their stay
into three periods. The rst was the hardest, consigning prisoners to
hard labor and solitary connement. The second period allowed for
some freedom, including visitors, classes, and shopwork. Finally, the
third stage involved a limited form of work release, with the prisoners
returning every night. Prisoners wore uniforms and colored caps and
underwent a rigorous routine rooted in the scientic discipline of the
era. Some prisoners preferred the livelier Beln rather than the new
structure. Despite the apparent changes, however, the new jail was
no more than a slight improvement on the old one. Prisoners were
still able to fashion a world of their own making, proving the power
of the imagined underworld.60
The Phantom City

In 1901 the administrator of the Dolores Cemetery complained that a
certain Luis Flores was selling pulque out of his house, situated next
to the cemetery. The functionary pointed out that it was against the
law to sell the drink near cemeteries and in this case Floress actions
were leading to all sorts of scandals being committed by the poor
who visited Dolores.61
Floress appropriation of the cemeterys public spaces, a minor
infraction, nevertheless exemplied the Porrian elites fears of the
vast urban underclass and their city. Described in the ofcial discourse
as vicious and unruly, the poor and their social spaces were deemed
major threats to the regimes moral stance. Yet the cultural topography
of the imagined underworld proved essential to the ofcial story. By
linking the capitals impoverished colonias (and by association their
inhabitants) with criminality, the Porrian regime could effectively
construct an underworld and control the lives and social activities of
the urban population and at the same time build a social boundary
limiting access to the ideal city. In 1890 this opportunity arrived with
the trial of Francisco Guerrero, alias El Chalequero. The Porrian
state, waxing in power, utilized the criminal and sexual exploits of
Guerrero to forge the other side.

2
The Terror of Peralvillo, El Chalequero
Crime among a people is not just typied by the large scandals that
affect all of society; rather it is also found in those small and repeated
antisocial acts that are more perverse, frequent and as a result, more
dangerous.Carlos Roumagnac, Matadores de mujeres, 1910
in 1 8 9 0 pro s e cu t o rs in Mexico City tried and convicted

Francisco Guerrero, alias El Chalequero, for the rape and mur-
der of several women. Guerrero, a shoemaker by trade, repeatedly
lured women he met in the pulqueras of the capitals northeast-
ern periphery to isolated areas where he violently assaulted them
during sexual intercourse. Two of his victims died. Convicted and
given the death penalty, Guerrero was spared the ring squad and
instead sentenced to prison for twenty years. In 1905, however, the
serial killer managed to secure release and subsequently returned
to Mexico City. Guerreros second trial in 1908, for the murder of an
elderly woman, further cemented his role as one the most notori-
ous Porrian criminals. He died soon thereafter and subsequently
passed into history and myth.
The Guerrero case offers an important tool for analyzing the
Porrian state and its project centered on forging ideas about crimi-
nality. During the rst trial, prosecutors employed powerful language
linking Guerrero to the urban underclass, classifying the serial killer
as a member of a degenerate population that posed a direct threat to
respectable Mexicans. As we have seen, Mexico Citys poor colo-
nias were believed by elites to be not only sources of criminal activity
but also of moral contagion. In 1890 and again in 1908 elites utilized
this discourse to transform Guerrero into an anti-Porrian trope, a
representative of criminality. In the process elites strengthened their
position as the moral arbiters of the nation.
The transformation did not end there. Led by the efforts of the of-
cial press and government prosecutors, elites also strove to dene
Guerreros world, family, and friends as part of the underworld.
Specically, prosecutors presented the colonias that Guerrero lived
in as being the literal location of the other side. We should not view
this process, however, as unique. The Porrian press, acting in concert
with elite interests, generally portrayed the capitals poor underclass
in negative terms. In headline after headline, newspapers informed
readers about the latest crime of passion to strike remote colonias.
Set in a context populated with references to unfaithful women and
violent men, the ofcial discourse conjured a world of illicit conjugal
relations and domestic turmoil.
Criminalizing the Domestic

During the rst Guerrero trial, prosecutors fashioned a sordid nar-
rative out of Guerreros personal family history, effectively portray-
ing the shoemaker as the product of an illicit relationship and as a
sexual degenerate. For the Porrian elite these characterizations were
not unusual. Elite portrayals of the underclass were populated with
stock characters whose actions transgressed elite-dened moral and
sexual boundaries. For instance, the noted Mexican criminologist
Julio Guerrero, in his 1901 study La genesis del crimen en Mxico: Estudio
de psiquiatra social, described the capitals poorest residents as living
in forbidden relationships that often produced venereal diseases and
abortions. El Imparcial, in its descriptions of La Bolsa, echoes Guerreros
comments. The resulting picture that emerged dened the typical poor
Mexico City family as being composed of illiterate and rude parents,
half-naked children, and, ever-present in the background, the scent
of cheap pulque, illicit sex, and possible violence.1
The Terror of Peralvillo, El Chalequero 39
Porrian newspapers provided plenty of examples for eager read-
ers, noting how the citys underclass often mixed jealousy with alcohol
and cheap weapons. For instance, on July 1, 1906, Catalina Fragoso
became part of the ofcial criminal narrative when on that day she
had the misfortune of running into her husband, Adolfo Vega, who
had just spent most of his day drinking heavily in a cantina. Porrian
critics (and prosecutors) frequently emphasized how poor Mexicans
accused of crimes usually began their days in a cantina. In this case
Vega asked Fragoso, who was accompanied by her mother and younger
sister, where she was going. Fragoso replied that she was going to eat.
Vega then asked her to change her plans and come with him to a local
market. Fragoso agreed and left with her husband. On the way to the
market Vega changed his mind and asked his wife to have a drink with
him at a local cantina. When she reached the door, Vega drew his pis-
tol and shot his wife at point-blank range. Leaving her to die in a pool
of blood, Vega ed to another cantina where he drank some more and
proceeded to go out into the street and wildly re his gun into the air.
Police, alerted to the incident, promptly arrived and arrested Vega.2
Like many female crime victims in Mexico City, Fragoso found death
at the hands of someone she knew, in this case her husband, whose
jealousy was apparently fueled by pulque. Elite observers remarked
that the emotion was a powerful motivator, as in the case of J. Jess
Gutirrez, who killed his ance, Tomasa Pea, in a t of rage in
February 1905. Gutirrez was known as an extremely jealous man,
and matters were not helped by the fact that Pea was considered
by friends and family to be very beautiful. Gutirrez in fact refused
to let Pea have friends and to ensure her continued loyalty sold his
barbershop business and announced that he was moving her and
his sons to Toluca, a town west of Mexico City. This made Pea very
happy, since she had always dreamed of a home in the countryside.
On the morning of February 5, both Gutirrez and Pea left for the
train terminal to take them to their new home, where they would
get married and then return to Mexico City for Gutirrezs children.
However, as the couple made their way to the depot a man began to
follow them. Gutirrez noticed the individual and recognized him
as someone he had frequently seen near his home. His suspicious
40 The Terror of Peralvillo, El Chalequero
mind began racing, and he induced that the man was following his
soon-to-be bride with the intention of saying good-bye. Sure enough,
he glimpsed Pea exchanging knowing glances with the mysterious
stranger. His anger increasing, Gutirrez noticed a construction site
and told his ance to wait, as he was going inside to relieve him-
self. Gutirrez then looked back and saw his wife talk to the man and
hug him. As the stranger retreated from the area, Gutirrez became
enraged and picked up a rock. He went to the entrance, motioned
for his wife to come inside, and then hit her, knocking her down.
Grabbing her neck with his left hand, he smashed her head with the
rock, opening a huge gash in her head. Gutirrez then found a larger
rock and let it fall on her head. Two men who saw the entire incident
subdued Gutirrez until a police ofcer could be agged down. By
the time police arrived, a curious crowd had gathered at the scene.
Ofcers managed with some difculty to arrest Gutirrez and cart
the remains of his ance back to Precinct Six police headquarters,
where Gutirrez readily confessed. He was shown the body and lunged
at it, kissed the corpse, and dirtied his clothes with blood and brain
matter before he was pulled away. A few hours later he hung himself
in his cell with a makeshift noose.3
In his investigations the famed criminologist Carlos Roumagnac
cited the blunt knife as the weapon of the poor. For economic rea-
sons this was true, but Roumagnac, an elite expert on crime, asserted
it partly for effect. Newspapers also found that sensational stories
about poor and misfortunate Mexicans sold copies, as was the case
with Antonio Vallejo, who murdered his wife, Elpidia Blancarte, in
cold blood on the morning of March 7, 1902. Blancarte, who was an
unregistered prostitute, frequently heaped scorn on her husband.
Vallejo apparently reached the breaking point that spring morning,
since the police ofcer who rst arrived at the scene found the knife-
wielding Vallejo hovering over his dead wife, still stabbing her. Vallejo
then threatened the ofcer, but the gendarme pulled out his pistol
and forced Vallejo to throw away his knife. Incredibly, the autopsy
report showed more than fty knife wounds on Blancartes body.
Needless to say, the courts found Vallejo guilty and sentenced him
to twenty years in prison.4
Newspaper reports played up incidents that were especially bloody
and did not hold back when describing the damage rocks, knives, and
guns did to the human body. These descriptions were meant to not
only shock viewers and draw them in, but to also portray lower-class
Mexicans in animalistic terms, whether they were criminals or vic-
tims. When pulque or drugs was involved, the report only conrmed
the popular viewpoint about the urban poor.
This was the case with Eulalia Flix, who was killed by her suitor,
Tiberio Martnez Arroyo, in March 1901. Roumagnac, who cited this
incident in his 1910 study Matadores de mujeres, noted that Martnez
Arroyo had been drinking pulque at Flixs house when he vomited
on a petate, a oor mat the poor used for sleeping. Flix reproached
him, and as a result Martnez Arroyo got upset, took out a knife, and
threatened Flix, but she would not back down. When she tried to take
his blade away, Martnez Arroyo became enraged, stabbed her, and
ed the scene. Investigators later determined that Martnez Arroyo
had also been under the inuence of marijuana. Since he was a sol-
dier, he was given the death penalty and spent ve years in prison,
but in 1906 he was spared the ring squad and sentenced to twenty
years. Records from Beln prison indicate that Martnez Arroyo had
a prior arrest for robbery as well.5
Porrian elites also used catchphrases such as savage and rened
cruelty in their depictions of domestic violence. In March 1906, for
example, Petronilo Reyes stabbed Mara Flix Martnez six times in
her genital area in an act he described as vengeance for all the dis-
gust she had caused him. Reyes did not elaborate, but his actions
both repelled and fascinated elite observers, who paid particular close
attention to criminal incidents that involved sex. Elites believed that
sex crimes were an everyday occurrence among the poor, with over-
crowded living conditions playing an important factor in fomenting
them as well as illicit sexual activity, as exemplied by Ansencio Antonio
Martnez. In August 1888 the Supreme Court conrmed a jail sentence
against Martnez, a fty-year-old worker from the Mexico State, for
having sexual intercourse with both of his daughters, Margarita and
Feodora. Court records indicated that Margarita was between the
ages of fourteen and eighteen but did not say how old Feodora was.
During the trial the judge labeled Martnez as ignorant and rude
and accused him of moral violence. The jury found Martnez guilty
and the judge sentenced him to ve years and four months in prison,
to top it off ordering him to pay a ne of sixteen pesos or suffer six-
teen additional days in prison.6
To elites crimes involving sex, rape, murder, and incest were strong
indicators of the urban poors sexual degeneration. These lurid crimes
of passion made banner headlines because they opened a window
into a world few educated Mexicans had been to but that they fanta-
sized about anyway. Elites also mixed this fascination with fear about
the seemingly uncontrollable sexuality of the poor. Robert McKee
Irwin notes that during the Porriato there was a growing interest in
human sexuality, an interest that was prompted by urban trends such
as dandyism, the new woman, and hysteria about homosexuality
among others. The popular literature of the time reected these con-
cerns, no doubt inuenced by true incidents such as the November
1901 arrest of forty-one gay men at a party in Mexico City. Critics
viewed incidents such as these as indicators that Porrian society
faced numerous dangers brought about by the alleged dark side of
modernity, namely the breakdown of family values, a decrease in tra-
ditional Mexican masculine norms, aggressive women, and sexually
promiscuous men.7
In particular Porrian elites seemed to be obsessed with the alleged
danger posed by the imagined sexual prowess of shiftless poor men
who prowled urban colonias, seeking women and adventure. These
fears were partially realized by a story that began on the night of January
3, 1903, when police ofcers discovered the corpse of a known pros-
titute, Mara Ramirez, in the northeastern reaches of the city. She had
ve stab wounds on her body, including one in her neck leaving the
head almost separated from the body, a typical scene described in
newspaper reports. Ramirez had worked as a clandestine prostitute
and thus had little identication, except for a paper with her name
and the name of a soldier, Lucio Rodrguez, written on it. Police found
and detained Rodrguez, who denied killing her. He told police that
he had been with another woman, Herminia Millin, on the night of
murder. In 1904 both Rodrguez and Millin were brought to trial,
but because of a lack of evidence they were released. The case techni-
cally remained open. In 1906 police revisited the crime when infor-
mants revealed that a woman, Tomasa lvarez, had knowledge sur-
rounding Ramirezs murder. Police detained lvarez, and she quickly
confessed.8
lvarez said that early in January 1903 Mara Ramirez had been in a
hospital recovering from a wound on her arm. Apparently, Ramirezs
live-in boyfriend, Dmaso Oviedo, had wounded Ramirez during a
ght. After her release Ramirez went to lvarezs house in the colonia
Bolsa to retrieve some clothes. After gathering her personal belongings,
Ramirez left, but not before telling lvarezs lover, Genaro Ortega, alias
El Ranchero, that on the next day she was going to the police station
to le charges against Oviedo, who was in jail for another assault. In
addition she was going to tell the police that Oveido had committed
several other assaults with Ortega and a third man, Cipriano Ronquillo,
who happened to be sitting next to Ortega at that moment. Ramirez
signed her own death sentence with her threats, for immediately after
she left Ortega and Ronquillo began to plan her demise.9
Ortega and Ronquillo hatched a plan that called for them to invite
both Ramirez and lvarez for a night out drinking. On their return
to lvarezs house, where Ramirez was spending her nights, both
men would kill Ramirez. However, the pair had to improvise a new
plan when lvarez told her lover that there was no food in the house.
Ortega replied that they would have to sell a coat in Tepito to obtain
quick funds. lvarez, Ronquillo, and Ortega left for Tepito but invit-
ed Ramirez, who had just arrived, to go with them. The four left for
a pawnshop, managed to sell the coat for one peso, and in return
bought some meat and tortillas. As they left Tepito they headed along
a deserted path back to their home. Ronquillo disappeared from the
group and reappeared a few meters away, lying in wait for Ramirez.
As the doomed woman passed the spot where Ronquillo lay, he leapt
out and stabbed her several times. Ramirez barely had enough time
to scream before she collapsed in a pool of blood. lvarez also began
to scream, but Ortega screamed at her, telling her, Shut up, that is
what happens to soplones (whistle blowers). After Ramirezs demise,
Ortega went to buy some aguardiente (cane liquor) and then returned
home, where Ronquillo was waiting. lvarez went to bed terried,
while both men got up and left.10
Police arrested both Ortega and Ronquillo for murder. During the
trial in January 1907, court ofcials visited the crime scene but were
aghast when a large, unfriendly crowd appeared, cheering both crimi-
nals and even handing them money. Apparently, Ortega and Ronquillo
were looked upon with sympathy, but not Ramirez, who, although
poor, had broken one of the cardinal rules of the underworld: do not
tell your friends that you are going to squeal on them and then expect
to live. Since the police were viewed with suspicion in the poor wards
of the city, any amount of cooperation with the tecolotes, as police
ofcers were called, was tantamount to treason, and every pelado
who valued his reputation in the marginal colonias would be sure to
enforce the unwritten code.11
Heroes in the imagined underworld, Ortega and Ronquillo were
considered dangerous sexual vagabonds in the ordered city. Men like
these often associated with prostitutes and were seen by detractors
as possessing a debased, animal-like sexuality. Petronillo Guerrero
and his brother Antonio had this same type of reputation. In 1892
both brothers (no relation to Francisco Guerrero) were placed on
trial for murder. Apparently, the Guerrero brothers were known as
Los Fandangos in the capitals slums and were reputed to be adept
thieves. Respected in the bowels of the underworld, Los Fandangos
prowled the streets, looking for trouble and women. Antonio, also
known as El Fandango Grande, reportedly had an affair with a pros-
titute, Catalina Prez, sometime before his trial. The loyalty of women
of the night was always in question though, and Prez proved her
true intentions by seeing another man, Sabino Romero, at the same
time. This secret did not last long. Guerrero and Romero found out
about each other and had several run-ins, but no blood was spilled,
at least not initially.12
That changed on the night of June 13, 1892, when the Fandangos,
accompanied by Prez, visited the cantina La Electrica to drink the
evening away as usual. After a suitable orgy of pulque, the now-hungry
trio left for the restaurant La Estrella de Oro with a bottle in hand.
Arriving at the small restaurant, the trio found Sabino Romero eating
some tacos. Petronillo, upon seeing Romero, pushed him and invited
him to ght in the street. Once outside, Antonio grabbed his rival
while Petronillo stabbed him to death. Both men ed but were chased
by Romeros friend, Antonio Espinoza. Police mistakenly arrested
Espinoza for Romeros death, but the angry friend revealed the truth.
With the aid of Romeros sister, Rafaela Romero, police went to the
Guerrero home, where they found Antonio hiding out. Seeing no
way out, Antonio admitted his part in Romeros death. Police soon
located Petronillo and arrested him. Both men were eventually found
guilty and sentenced to lengthy prison stays.13
For the Porrian elite, the imagined underworld was populated
with stock Mexicans like the Guerrero brothers and Mara Ramirez,
Mexicans who lived outside established norms. Ofcials labeled these
individuals as sexually debased, abusive, and murderous. Additionally,
these depictions did not differentiate the Fandangos and their ilk
from the urban colonias they inhabited. Elites joined the criminal
with the world of urban poverty, producing an underworld narrative
with common elements, including moral and physical degeneration,
illicit sexual activity, murder, and in the end, the triumph of law and
order. In 1890 this type of narrative obtained its original character
with the rst trial of Francisco Guerrero.
In Darkest Antiquity
Porrian propaganda placed a great value on the belief that Mexico
entered a golden age only with the ascension of Porrio Daz in 1876.
Consequently, the pre-1876 era was viewed by propagandists as a
dark era, devoid of progress. It is interesting to note that Francisco
Guerrero only became a threat to the Porrian order in 1890, at the
start of a decade when cientco discourse became the dominant ideol-
ogy guiding the regime. Likewise in 1908, the year of the second trial,
the Porrian state was in decline, and by 1910 Guerrero was dead,
with the Porriato following soon afterward. I do not mean to sug-
gest that we can use Guerrero as a direct guide to the rise and fall of
the Porriato, but certainly the Guerrero myth, invented rst in 1890
and reinforced in 1908, allows us to see how narratives sometimes
run in concert with the states that spawn them.14
Francisco Guerrero, who was born in Guadalajara on October 10,
1850, was relatively unknown until his rst trial. However, his past
became the subject of intense speculation when criminologists, jour-
nalists, and government ofcials all sought to see if any patterns in his
childhood could explain the criminal acts he was accused of commit-
ting. In an interview with Carlos Roumagnac, Guerrero described his
family background, noting that his parents were cousins, not unusual
at that time but certainly interesting given the fact that Guerreros
mother left her rst husband at age seventeen to marry Guerreros
father, who was then twenty-seven. Guerrero, who was the eleventh
of fourteen children, did not remember his childhood fondly, not-
ing that his mother was a cruel woman and his father, an alcoholic.
Moreover, Guerrero claimed to have suffered from epileptic attacks
as well as an injury he had received at age fteen from a butcher
knife that struck him in the head. Guerreros fascination with blood
and knives, important elements in his future career, seemed to have
stemmed from this and other childhood experiences, or so Roumagnac
suggested. At age seven, for example, Guerrero witnessed a ght
between two men that ended with the fatal stabbing of one of the
men, who before dying gushed a fountain of blood from his mouth.
This gruesome incident seemed to have left an indelible memory in
Guerreros mind. Further inquiry revealed that Guerrero worked in a
butcher shop during his youth and as part of his job duties regularly
slaughtered animals. It was at this time that the future serial killer
reportedly developed a fetish for slicing jugular veins open with a
sharp knife and even irting with female customers, offering them
cuts of meat.15
Roumagnac, clearly fascinated with Guerreros early childhood,
blamed the murderers family background and early sexual experiences
for the nature of the crimes. Guerrero himself lamented his inadequate
schooling, which he blamed on his familys constant moves during the
French Intervention in the 1860s. Possessing little education, Guerrero
chose shoemaking as a profession and, after learning the trade, moved
to Mexico City around 1870, where he found employment in various
small shops. In 1875 he met and fell in love with Mara Navarro and
married her sometime in the same year. Guerrero and his wife started
a new life and family among Mexico Citys slums. Their union pro-
duced six children, two twins who died at birth, a son who died in
a ght at age sixteen, and three daughters who survived childhood.
However, one daughter became an alcoholic, another a prostitute.
Only the third daughter led a normal life. As for Guerrero, married
life could not keep him at home. Like other immigrants, he fell in love
with the lures of Mexico City. He soon found adventure in the streets,
solace in the arms of prostitutes, and trouble with the police.16
Clearly, Guerreros upbringing facilitated the Porrian elites
attempts to depict the man as a degenerate product of the lower
classes and easily corrupted by alcohol and prostitution. Before his
arrest Guerrero lived in a vecindad in the northeastern part of the city.
Vecindades, or tenement houses, were often crowded, full of domesti-
cated animals, and reputed to be centers of prostitution and crime. In
some parts of the imagined underworld, such as the colonia La Bolsa,
tenement houses were nothing more than shacks with dirt oors.
Elite observers and journalists had a eld day describing or imagin-
ing life in these humble dwellings, often depicting their residents as
criminals and disease ridden. In 1899 The Medical Gazette commented
on how the poor lived fteen to twenty in a small room and wore the
same clothes until they peeled off. Other reports described the ram-
pant theft that went on inside as well as the incomprehensible lan-
guage spoken by residents. Further, El Imparcials 1908 series described
how one resident responded to the presence of the reporter, asking a
native guide, Yutis cabeas quien es este jao? No es pasma? (Who is
this gentleman? Is he a secret police ofcer?) The guide then replied,
No, quiere versar con yutis para cabear lo que pasa en la colonia y
barbearlo maana en el periodico. (No, he just wants to talk to you
about the colonia and put the story in print.)17
Guerreros childhood and life among the citys slums were not the
only subjects that interested Roumagnac and other elite commenta-
tors. In one instance Guerrero recounted how he had lost his virgin-
ity at age sixteen to an experienced girl but liked virgins and told the
criminologist that he preferred oral sex to regular intercourse, since
he feared impregnating his sexual partners and facing angry parents.
He also preferred older women, claiming younger girls were more
likely to be unfaithful. Guerrero relished adding violence to his sex-
ual encounters, as evidenced by one incident in which he reminisced
biting a girl on the nose after she bit him on the lip during sexual
intercourse. Guerreros sexual adventures fascinated Roumagnac,
who listened intently as the killer recounted his carnal adventures in
the barrios of Santa Ana and Peralvillo, sleeping with prostitutes and
irting with garbanceritas (maids).18
Guerreros frequent wanderings throughout Mexico Citys periph-
ery produced a varied and interesting record of assaults and ghts at
rst but soon evolved into more serious offenses. In July 1878 police
arrested him for ghting and he spent sixteen days in jail. Soon there-
after he was arrested for street brawling. The incident was not seri-
ous, and he was freed the day after his arrest. In February 1878 he
spent three months in jail for wounding another man; the following
April he spent another two weeks in detention for assault. Despite
this proclivity for getting into trouble, Mexico City police at rst did
not link Guerrero with any violent crimes against women. In fact he
resembled many young men who practically lived on the streets of the
capital, men who found nothing else to do but get drunk and ght.
In his rst trial, Guerreros rather mundane criminality was ampli-
ed, however, with investigators charging that Guerrero had com-
mitted his rst rape in 1881, when he assaulted Candelaria Mendoza
Garca. Guerrero apparently met Mendoza at a pulquera called El
Coyote and invited her to a dance. Sometime afterward, he tried to
have sexual intercourse with her. She resisted, but Guerrero held
her down, threatened to kill her with a knife, and raped her. He then
robbed her, or at least tried to, since Mendoza had no money. Guerrero
responded to this by wounding her with a knife. This pattern of sex,
violence, and theft would become Guerreros modus operandi for the
rest of his criminal career. The next rapes exact date is unknown, but
prosecutors alleged it took place sometime between 1881 and 1884.
In that incident Guerrero reportedly assaulted and raped Mara de
Jess Martnez in the colonia Santa Ana.19
Government prosecutors were interested in dening Guerrero
not only as a career criminal, but also as a sadistic monster who
regularly attacked women. The emphasis on Guerreros fetish for
blood; his family upbringing, which suggested incest; and even his
early career as a butcher all joined together to produce an image of
a man obsessed with sex and violence. Guerreros activities in the
late 1870s were, however, not enough to convince potential jurors
that the man was dangerous, since street brawling was a common
offense in Mexico City. If the police wished to lock up all residents
who fought in the streets, cantinas, and even at home, Mexico City
would have been quickly depopulated. Instead, Guerreros sexual
proclivities had to be magnied. His origin as an immigrant helped
the government make its case, since many elites viewed rural new-
comers to the capital as uneducated rustics, prone to violence, alco-
holism, and illicit sex. In other words it was not so much the crime as
the sexual impulses that elite observers found repulsive. For the elite
Guerrero, his friends, and even his victims were all equally guilty of
sexual degeneracy. Naturally, prosecutors sensed an opening. They
would use Guerreros crimes to not only condemn the man, but also
the capitals poor underclass.20
The Cesspool of Lust

The 1890 trial of Francisco Guerrero is a remarkable example of the way
in which Porrian ofcials incorporated a criminal from the margins
of society into the ofcial portrait of crime. From the very beginning
both government ofcials and newspapers seized on the Guerrero
case, intent on linking the alleged killer with what they considered
the real danger to society: the urban poor. Although more than a year
had passed since Guerreros arrest, Mexico Citys newspapers eagerly
previewed the upcoming trial, running stories depicting Guerrero as
a sadist who threatened both society and female honor. For exam-
ple, one reporter noted with a bit of dramatic air that In some
nations are born, from time to time, criminals that horrify human-
ity, like Caligula and Jack the Ripper, symbols of evil and deprav-
ity. Guerrero, the reporter concluded, was one of these. Of course
with this kind of publicity the trial, which began on December 16,
became the most popular ticket in town. Mexicans from all walks of
life crowded the courtroom in the Palace of Justice, with wealthier
Mexicans, as betted their social position, sitting in the best seats,
while families with crying children stood in the back. To provide
security twenty-ve soldiers were stationed just outside the building,
while another twenty-ve police ofcers guarded the courtroom. Of
particular interest was the presence of scores of women, their class
afliations unknown. Numerous reporters described every possible
detail and noted with a ourish the ofcial start of the trial, when the
judge, Fernando Gmez Puente, entered the courtroom, followed by
jury members, defense attorneys, the prosecutor, witnesses, and the
court-appointed medical experts. Finally, Guerrero entered, clad in
a black jacket, vest, and pants and escorted by eight police ofcers.
Commentators described the alleged assassin as looking sad, pale,
and nervous, probably troubled by his crimes, one observer said.
The image disappointed many who expected Guerrero to be some
ferocious monster with eyes that mesmerized prostitutes. Instead,
observers noted his small stature, adding that he looked insigni-
cant, vulgar, ugly, weak, with small feet and a weak-looking physi-
ognomy, all characteristics of a weak person. Guerreros humble
look was matched by his childlike demeanor as he began talking, an
attitude that both repulsed and fascinated spectators.21
Once the trial ofcially got underway, the audience and jury mem-
bers heard testimony ranging from the macabre to the ridiculous
amid an atmosphere that was decidedly progovernment. In fact the
entire three-day proceedings took on the air of a show trial, a deliber-
ate attempt to make Guerrero and his peers look as guilty as possible.
Judge Gmez Puente, obviously intent on expanding the charges,
declared at the onset that he had searched police records in a vain
effort to nd incidents of other murdered women with the same char-
acteristics as those of Guerreros recognized victims. Even though
the judge failed to nd additional cases, the list of Guerreros vic-
tims was sufciently long to worry the defense attorneys, Agustn
Verdugo, Adalberto Esteva, and Juan C. Aguirre. In fact of the three,
only Aguirre was thoroughly familiar with Guerreros case, having
been appointed as Guerreros original counsel in 1888. Since Verdugo
and Esteva had not had time to review the case, all three attorneys
asked for a month-long recess. Gmez Puente denied the request.
The prosecution then called more than two dozen witnesses, some
of whom repeated little more than hearsay. To combat the state, the
defense conjured up images of Guerrero as the victim of a degen-
erate society and family. They also argued that his best friend, Jos
Montoya, had actually committed the murders.22
The lurid details surrounding the case added an air of voyeurism
to the trial. Mexicans read with interest how Guerrero, in September
1886, had stabbed to death a prostitute known only as Margarita La
Burra Panda. During that incident Guerrero had allegedly been walk-
ing along the railroad tracks on the VeracruzMexico City route when
he ran into La Burra Panda and two unnamed men. The prostitute
then whispered something to one of her companions, who in turn
insulted Guerrero. Guerrero, wary of confronting two men, continued
along his path but sometime later returned to the site, found La Burra
alone, and confronted her. Suddenly, an unidentied man appeared
and began to threaten Guerrero. Exploding in rage, Guerrero took
out a knife, stabbed La Burra repeatedly, and ed the area, looking
back to see the woman stagger around with blood gushing from her
wounds. He later claimed that he had stabbed her accidentally when
she got in his way as he tried to defend himself against the mysteri-
ous attacker.23
To the jury and observers, Guerreros wanderings along the rail-
road tracks classied him as one of Mexico Citys shiftless pelados, a
dangerous subclass that operated outside the normal boundaries of
society both physically and morally. Porrian criminologists viewed
pelados as degenerate, prone to heavy drinking, and only one step
away from outright thievery. Guerreros social activities also placed
him in daily contact with prostitutes such as La Burra Panda, who
were commonly regarded by elites as vulgar and subhuman. Yet for
Porrian readers, poor prostitutes were also exotic creatures, sexually
alluring but out of reach, available only for safe and anonymous public
consumption in the pages of Mexico Citys dailies. The prosecution
charged that Guerrero had killed two of these forbidden women in
1887Francisca N. La Chicharra and Murcia Gallardo. Although
Guerrero never elaborated on La Chicharras murder except to deny
having killed her, details of her corpse made for shocking reading.
Police found her partially nude body oating in the Rio del Consulado,
and true to the favored formula, with her head almost separated from
her body. The medical report conrmed that repeated stab wounds in
the neck had caused the death, puncturing her jugular vein. Among
the lore of the underclass, the deathblow to the jugular echoed another
tradition: the slaughter of sheep by a quick cut to the neck, providing
fresh blood for local culinary delicacies. Thus Guerreros tactic became
known as la cuchillada del borrego (the slaughter of sheep).24
The prosecutor elaborated on Guerreros other victim, the pros-
titute Murcia Gallardo, who also frequented the Rio del Consulado
area. The government brought up her alleged notoriety and pointed
out to the jury that Gallardo liked to drink heavily and frequent pul-
queras, a dangerous activity for any woman in the city. A bar owner
and former police ofcer, Antonio Mayorga, testied that Gallardo had
visited his business in the colonia Peralvillo one night in December
1887 and had argued with a man known as Antonio El Chaleco,
allegedly one of Guerreros nicknames. On that night Guerrero and
Gallardo became very drunk, drinking pulque late into the night. Two
other local women, Concepcin Escamilla and Eduwigis N., were wit-
nesses. Mayorga remembered that Gallardo became so drunk that
she began to loudly insult Guerrero, telling him that she was jealous
of other women paying attention to him and that she knew his real
identity. I know you are the terror of Santa Ana, but I am not afraid,
she reportedly boasted. Moreover, Gallardo challenged Guerrero to
go with her to an isolated road to ght, or hacerse bolas, as the
popular slang went at the time. Guerrero agreed and left the store
with Gallardo, who kept stating over and over again that she was not
afraid. No one ever saw her alive again.25
A few days later, police found her corpse oating in the polluted Rio
del Consulado. Gallardos nude body showed fteen knife wounds,
one of them to the jugular. Once again the victim was almost decapi-
tated. After some false leads, police found a witness who told ofcers
she had seen a man in the vicinity carrying a large knife the night
Gallardo was murdered.26
The prosecutions careful construction of Guerreros criminal
activity was designed not only to prove guilt but also to classify the
accused as sexually promiscuous. Guerrero frequented cantinas and
pulqueras late into the night and associated with lower-class pros-
titutes, activities the elite found disgusting. Prosecutors also alleged
that Guerrero even victimized innocent women. To demonstrate this
point, the government alleged that on August 15, 1887, Guerrero had
attacked a washerwoman, Emilia Gonzlez, outside the municipality
of Guadalupe-Hidalgo. The medias depiction of Gonzlez was sig-
nicantly different from the other descriptions. Press reports identi-
ed her as twenty-four and single, employed by a respectable fam-
ily. According to police, who managed to interview Gonzlez before
she died from the injuries sustained in the attack, the young woman
had been walking home when Guerrero stopped her and asked her
to have sexual intercourse with him. She refused. Guerrero, enraged,
assaulted her, threw her to the ground, and told her to admit her
desires or he would kill her. She still refused, so he stabbed her three
times, once in the chest. At that moment several unknown individuals
approached, and Gonzlez gathered all her strength and shouted for
help. Guerrero panicked and successfully ed the scene. Gonzlez
died a few weeks later.27
Guerreros actions sometimes bordered on the bizarre, and pros-
ecutors did not ignore this aspect, hoping to somehow label the man
as aberrant and out of touch with Porrian society. In another inci-
dent Guerrero attacked Soledad Gonzlez after the latter refused his
sexual advances. He allegedly offered her one peso if she would have
sex with him. After she said no, Guerrero dragged her to an isolated
spot beside the Rio del Consulado. There he asked the terried woman
if she knew Antonio El Chaleco. When she replied no, Guerrero
proclaimed he was the notorious killer and then took out a large knife,
telling the trembling woman, dont be afraid pretty, men always carry
these things. Guerrero then raped her, but not before he paid the
woman four pesos. However, Guerrero took his money back before
he left the vicinity.28
Guerrero liked to strike terror in his victims, but his violent ten-
dencies eventually caught up with him. It remains unknown what
exactly prompted the Mexico City police to begin looking for the serial
killer, but increased media coverage of the murders may have per-
suaded the police to do something. Despite the scarcity of persons
willing to share information, investigators began to close the noose
around the assassin in the spring and summer of 1888 and succeeded
in using a network of informers to ascertain El Chalequeros iden-
tity and location. At rst detectives searched for the assassin using
nothing more than the name Antonio El Chaleco to track the killer
down. They soon received valuable information when ofcers arrested
two women, Camila Snchez and Lorenza Urrutia, for ghting and
public intoxication. The police learned that Snchez had threatened
to reveal that Urrutia was El Chalequeros lover. When interrogated,
Urrutia denied the allegation. The police, forced to release her, never-
theless placed Urrutia under surveillance in the hope that she would
lead them to their suspect. It was their best lead so far. Apparently,
Urrutia changed her mind and told police that El Chalequero usually
could be found loitering along the road to Guadalupe-Hidalgo and
in the colonia Santa Ana.29
Detectives investigated several other persons of suspicious repu-
tation, including a woman nicknamed The Bayonet. Agents also
went undercover where people of the bad life could be found, but
they encountered only false leads despite having informants among
prostitutes. However, a major break surfaced when investigators ques-
tioned one of their most valuable sources, Antonio Mayorga, the bar
owner who had been present when Gallardo disappeared. Mayorga
was very familiar with the legendary Chalequero, not only because he
probably knew who Guerrero was, but also because most of his cli-
entele were prostitutes and the sole topic of their conversations had
been the serial killer. It remains unclear whether Mayorga ever volun-
teered information to the police during the initial investigation, but
in all likelihood the man had kept silent since that night in December
1887 when he last saw Gallardo alive. Although Mayorga had connec-
tions with the police, he still feared Guerrero, who seemed to have
amassed a considerable amount of power over the local inhabitants.
Nevertheless, it was Mayorga who made the positive identication that
would deliver Guerrero into the arms of the police. On the evening of
July 13, 1888, an ofcer patrolling the vicinity of Guadalupe-Hidalgo,
Juan Robles, arrested a man on suspicion of having assaulted a woman
that night. Investigators wanted to know if the man, who identied
himself as Francisco Guerrero, was the same one who had argued
with Gallardo that fateful December evening. Mayorga replied yes.
The police nally had their man.30
Throughout the trial the prosecution not only reconstructed
Guerreros crimes, but also fashioned an image of an underworld
of prostitution and vice. By inserting Guerrero into the underworld
narrative, prosecutors were able to prove that the accused was inher-
ently guilty not only through his actions, but also through his asso-
ciations with people like Gallardo. Interestingly, Guerrero, either
through stupidity or ignorance, proved to be a willing accomplice to
the prosecutions efforts, and it became clear on the trials second
day that the accused serial killer was his own worst enemy. Aided
by Guerreros apparent lack of intelligence, the prosecution called
seven witnesses to discuss the death of the prostitute Francisca N.,
also known as La Chicharra. Guerrero maintained his silence as
the witnesses, one by one, stated that they knew or had been told
that Guerrero had killed La Chicharra. Despite the apparent hearsay
and poor quality of the witnesses, Guerrero did his best to help the
prosecution. When one witness, Candelaria Garca, mentioned that
La Chicharra had been with several other women on the day she died,
Guerrero broke his silence and replied that La Chicharra had been
alone when he murdered her.31
Guerrero did try to mount a defense, however feeble. He claimed
to have taken the name Chalequero solely to scare girls he met
in pulqueras and that the real killer was ngel Perea, an operator
at the textile plant in San Antonio Abad, on the outskirts of Mexico
City. Guerrero added that Perea frequented a cantina known as Los
Cantaros. Police investigators countered his story with the fact that
the owner of the cantina denied ever having known ngel Perea. When
police contacted the plant owner, he mentioned that there had once
been an ngel Perea in his employ, but he had allegedly murdered
another man and had ed. Guerrero did not relent, adding that Jos
Montoya, his best friend, had actually killed three women, among
them Murcia Gallardo. Further, he stated that all his confessions were
untrue and were extracted out of him by torture committed against him
in the police station, where ofcers hung him by his ngers while a
man sat on his shoulders. While the allegations of police torture were
not farfetched, Guerreros other claims lacked eyewitness accounts,
and the prosecution dismissed them. Undaunted, the government
red back, stating that on the night police arrested Guerrero he had
been wearing a vest and black pants, the same outt several of his
surviving victims saw him wearing.32
As the trials second day drew to a close, Jos Montoya appeared on
the stand. Temporarily released from the San Hiplito mental hos-
pital, Montoya, thirty years old and a shoemaker by trade, had been
living with his parents the day police arrested him. In many ways
Montoya was like Guerrero, a young man trying to scratch out a living
in a city that frequently swallowed up immigrants. However, unlike
Guerrero, Montoya had a history of mental illness. The press had a
eld day with the unfortunate Montoya, stating that he was clearly
insane, had tried to kill himself in his cell, and the divine light of
reason had escaped from his brain. In an interview in the newspaper
El Nacional, Montoya, when asked by a reporter if he knew Guerrero,
replied no but claimed to be a police ofcer and to have partici-
pated in Guerreros arrest. When the reporter asked for clarication,
Montoya changed his story and denied having had anything to do with
the case. Sensing an opportunity, Guerreros defense attorneys tried
to blame Montoya for some of the crimes in an effort to shift some
blame away from their client, but they soon recognized the futility of
their actions. At one point in the courtroom, the judge asked Montoya
to turn and identify Guerrero, but Montoya refused, answering that he
did not know him. As Guerrero looked on in disbelief, Judge Gmez
Puente insisted, and Montoya replied that Guerrero had once tried to
kill him at night. Then, the judge stated, you know him. No,
Montoya replied, it was dark and all I could see were his big black
eyes. For his part Guerrero rebuked his friend and called him stupid,
adding that he had been angry with Montoya since the latter offered
him two pesos to sleep with his wife, Mara. Montoya also mentioned
that he had eas in his eyes, heard someone constantly crying under
his bed, and blamed his illness on a soup that did not have salt. As
the audience laughed, the judge ordered silence and then stated that
it was perhaps better that Montoya be taken back to his cell. The
prosecution and defense both readily agreed.33
From the very beginning the trial represented much more than a
standard criminal case; it was, by all accounts, a well-dened gov-
ernment show trial whose purpose was to link the urban poor with
elite notions of criminality. For instance, government ofcials and
reporters alike compared Guerrero to Jack the Ripper, noting that
both men were symbols of evil and depravity. To make the alleged
threat clearer, the prosecution reminded jurors that prostitution,
connected to Guerrero through his victims and associates, was an
urban evil that haunted even downtown Mexico City. The prosecu-
tion dutifully informed jurors that prostitutes plied their trade in
cantinas frequented by bullghters, rufans, high-society youths,
and politicians. The warning that Guerreros underworld threatened
to engulf Porrian society was clear. And in a statement intended
to drive the point home, the prosecution warned that there were
darker places far removed from the city center, situated on the other
side of the capital. These places, among them Guerreros haunts
of Santa Ana and Peralvillo, were, according to Porrian ofcials,
full of infection, dirty and gross, where pits of love are visited by
social larva.34
The governments desire to construct an underworld and, in the pro-
cess, erect social barriers between the upper classes and the poor was
clearly evident. The powerful language created a universe of depravity
in the eyes of observers, making Guerrero look inescapably guilty.
Moreover, Guerrero acted as a willing accomplice and even blamed
prostitutes for teaching him how to commit gross acts. His attor-
neys found themselves constantly reacting to the prosecution, and
even their best defense, mental illness, failed to sway the jurors. While
a medical expert testied to the accuracy of Montoyas illness, blam-
ing alcoholismanother perceived social evilfor the mans condi-
tion, other medical experts testied that they could not prove or dis-
prove that Guerrero was ill. Guerreros defense attorneys, running
out of ideas, even came up with the weak excuse that his victims had
actually committed suicide. The states conclusions that Montoya
was demented and Guerrero a depraved, yet rational assassin were
cemented in the minds of the jurors by the close of the second day.
For these men from the middle and upper levels of Porrian society,
sitting in a courtroom listening to testimony about prostitutes and
pulque, the trial represented a simple case of good versus evil.35
On the trials last day, the state and several more witnesses further
damaged Guerreros reputation, once again through a mixture of
direct testimony, hearsay, and moralistic pronouncements. Francisca
Martnez, a coffee seller, took the stand rst and testied that all her
female customers would talk about was El Chalequero and how he
killed women after raping them. Antonio Mayorga repeated his story,
adding that he had helped the police nd Guerrero. In the process
jurors learned a thing or two about cantina life in the slums, listen-
ing intently as Mayorga talked about conditions in the poor colonias.
Another witness, Bibiana Rodrguez, testied that she did not know
Guerrero but had heard, through gossip, that he had killed Murcia
Gallardo. Rodrguez said that Gallardo often bought tortillas at the
shop where she worked. Guerrero denied her accusations, while the
defense countered that Rodrguez was a known troublemaker, citing
a wound on her face left by a ght with another woman.36
The prosecutions extensive use of witnesses from the citys mar-
ginal class effectively connected Guerrero with the imagined under-
world. The motley parade of witnesses, among them a bar owner,
street merchants, maids, prostitutes, and an insane man, did not
exactly convey respectability. Further, their mere presence in the court-
room tainted Guerrero. For example, Mara de Jess Martnez sadly
told the court that Guerrero had assaulted and raped her, repeatedly
kicking her, and she had a scar on the face to prove it. Despite being
accused of prostitution by Guerreros defense attorneys, she stuck
by her story, though she admitted to spending two and a half years
in jail for assaulting another woman. Another witness, Margarita
Rosas, denied also being known as Margarita La Apache, a notori-
ous prostitute. When asked if she knew Guerrero, Rosas replied, to
the amusement of the audience, that she did not have the honor of
knowing him. The judge apologized to the jurors for the confusion,
sarcastically stating that Rosas was the wrong Margarita, since most
prostitutes had ridiculous nicknames and Rosas clearly did not, and
further, being poor, she had no honor at all.37
The prosecution was so successful in creating the idea of a crimi-
nal underworld that it risked placing some of its chief witnesses in a
negative light. When it came to statements made by the prostitutes
who testied against Guerrero, the prosecution, led by Rodrguez,
said that these womens stories should be believed because they were
conrmed by honorable persons. As a result prostitutes could be
valued and disposed of at the same time, and in the process Porrian
ideals, elevating educated women, were preserved. The prosecution
even cited Victor Hugos Les miserables when it said that justice should
not be denied (prostitutes), because nobody knew what hard lives they
had led. In conclusion the prosecution added that even though these
women were fallen and represented a problem to Mexican society,
they had a heart of gold and cared for their children and mothers.
Despite these entreaties the audience frequently broke out in laughter
at the appearance of most of the witnesses, who represented a whos
who among inhabitants of the capitals northeastern slums.38
To counter the prosecution, the defense produced a few witnesses on
the trials last day that stated, overall, that Guerrero was well behaved.
One piece of important testimony came from Guerreros wife, Mara
Navarro. In response to a line of questioning, Navarro said that her
husband never came home with bloodstains but on several occasions
had returned late at night muddied. She also mentioned that on some
Sunday nights her husband would not come home at all.39
The last-ditch effort by the defense to portray Guerrero as a misun-
derstood worker, however, was ineffective. During the closing state-
ments, the prosecution, led by Rodrguez, spoke rst. Rodrguez
summarized the case as marching through the dark path of murders,
wounds, rapes and robberies committed by Antonio El Chaleco,
a path full of the cadavers and ghosts of his victims, a path where
human esh is exposed and rotted by worms. Who was the crimi-
nal? Rodrguez asked. His name is wrapped up in the shadows of
mystery, as well as his crimes, of which God and the stars have been
witnesses. After summarizing from memory all of Guerreros alleged
victims and crimes, Rodrguez closed with a statement that Guerrero
was denitely the murderer known as El Chalequero and a deformed
being whose mind harbored criminal and evil ideas. The audience
applauded his speech.40
After the prosecutions closing, the defense attempted to refute the
emotionally charged statements, but instead disaster ensued. Lead
defense attorney Juan Aguirre delivered an incoherent speech, attack-
ing the courts handling of the case and accusing the judge of denying
defense requests for extra time because he was allegedly acting on
higher orders. Aguirre also stated that the only woman Guerrero had
killed was Murcia Gallardo, and that was in self-defense. Furthermore,
he said that Guerrero was innocent of all the other crimes because, in
simple terms, the real assassin was not in the room. Finally, Aguirre
accused the judge, the prosecutor, and Montoyas defense attorney
of conspiring to portray Montoya as insane in an effort to focus all
the blame on Guerrero. Needless to say, these statements did not sit
well with the government or the judge. When the defense rested, the
judge ordered the trial ofcially over. It was exactly 9:30 p.m., and
the jury, composed of eighteen men, was sent to deliberate in private.
The prosecution presented the jury with a formidable taskthat of
answering 357 questions, each one related to a specic charge. The
jury asked for clarication twice and returned the verdict shortly after
3:00 a.m.41
The jury found Guerrero guilty of the murders of Murcia Gallardo
and Francisca N. La Chicharra and also of having committed one
assault, four rapes, and seven robberies. The charges relating to the
deaths of Gallardo and La Chicharra were the most detailed. The jury
noted that both women had implicitly trusted Guerrero, having had
sexual relations with the assassin prior to their murders. Interestingly,
the jury did not condemn Guerrero for the murder of the washerwom-
an, Emilia Gonzlez, but instead found him guilty of a lesser charge,
injury to a person. Only ten members of the jury actually believed
that Guerrero had injured Gonzlez. As for the other charges, the
jury found Guerrero guilty of the rape of Candelaria Mendoza, not-
ing that as a woman Mendoza was owed a certain measure of respect
and that Guerrero had shown none and instead had inicted a con-
siderable amount of injury to her. They also found Guerrero guilty
of raping Mara de Jess Martnez, Mara Refugio Lpez, Lorenza
Urrutia, Soledad Gonzlez, Candelaria Garca, and Margarita Rosas.
In addition the jurors determined that the assassin had committed four
violent acts of robbery against Soledad Gonzlez, Josfa Rodrguez,
Camila Snchez, and Francisca Yerbas and had severely injured Josfa
Rodrguez by cutting her. The jury did not believe that Montoya had
any direct role in the murders and cleared him of his only charge, the
murder of Murcia Gallardo. With the guilty verdict, the judge then
passed sentence on Guerrero, condemning him to death according to
the prosecutions request. At 4:00 a.m. several police ofcers escorted
Guerrero to Beln prison, where he was to await execution by ring
squad in the jails infamous garden. The audience left somber and
silent. Mexico City, at least for the present, had heard the last of El
Chalequero.42
Almost immediately, Guerreros attorneys launched an appeal, but
the Supreme Court upheld the verdict. Consequently, they appealed
directly to President Daz, who commuted Guerreros sentence to
twenty years in San Juan de Ula, the island prison in Veracruz har-
bor. Dazs exact reasoning was unknown, but in all probability he
intended to demonstrate generosity to a famous criminal. No doubt
Daz believed that Guerrero would die in prison, as did most of the
prisoners sentenced to the island hellhole. However, Guerrero did not
die. Instead, the convicted assassin made no secret of his delight in
being transferred to the island instead of remaining in Mexico Citys
Beln, probably because he feared some sort of retribution by relatives
of those he had killed. However, San Juan de Ula, whose cells were
dark and malaria infested, held a reputation as a deathtrap.43
Guerreros successful appeal was based on an argument made by
his chief attorney, Juan Aguirre. In his letter to don Porrio, Aguirre
blamed the conviction on the presss depiction of Guerrero as a mon-
ster. Further, Aguirre alleged that Murcia Gallardo, one of Guerreros
victims, was a prostitute who had previously served time in prison
and had fought with Guerrero before she died. Aguirres reasoning
echoed a popular elite viewpoint, namely that women who physi-
cally fought with men possessed no honor. Aguirre also stated that
Guerrero had only been a threat to prostitutes and posed no general
threat to Porrian womanhood. In Aguirres eyes prostitutes deserved
their fate. Finally, the attorney added that Guerrero admitted to being
El Chalequero solely because the notoriety would have given him
power over prostitutes, a necessity since Guerrero was, in Aguirres
eyes, a sex addict.44
Thanks to the pardon, Guerrero was transferred in June 1892 to
Veracruz harbor. According to one source, the convicted killer threw
himself into a strict work regimen, preferring to spend his days under
the hot tropical sun laboring on work projects rather than in the cold,
damp cells. Apparently, he satised his lust by paying for prostitutes
services with his meager prison salary. Guerrero behaved well, and on
September 29, 1904, the government ordered his release. He returned
to the Federal District in 1905, where he reunited with his daughter,
Guadalupe, and even tried to restore his marriage to Mara Navarro.
She, however, refused on account of his past crimes. Guerrero tried to
resume a normal life, but old habits were hard to break. On November
27 of the same year, he assaulted his new girlfriend, Antonia Villagrn,
and the following year police in the Villa de Guadalupe detained him
on a minor charge. Guerrero avoided prison because he used another
name. Nevertheless, he vowed not to pick up another knife unless it was
related to his job as a painter. He did not keep his promise for long.45
Under the Aztec Sun

On May 26, 1908, at around 5:00 p.m., police in the municipality of
Guadalupe-Hidalgo were informed that a body had been found near
the banks of the Rio del Consulado. Prefect Francisco Moreno, accom-
panied by several ofcers, went to investigate and soon discovered the
y-infested corpse of an elderly woman. Estimated to be at least eighty
years old, the dead woman was lying face up with her arms crossed
over her chest. The police induced her lower-class origins from her
humble clothing and saw the apparent cause of death: a massive wound
in the neck, leaving her almost decapitated. Authorities transported
the body to the nearby colonia of Valle Gmez and publicly displayed
her corpse in the hope someone would identify her, but no one did.
Most likely, police surmised, she was one of the destitute and home-
less persons that frequented the Rio del Consulado area. Police then
transported her body to Guadalupe-Hidalgo, and on the way to the
villa one of the men hired to move the corpse became curious and
lifted the sheet. He instantly recognized her as a frequent customer
at the pulquera Las Tres Piedras. Although unable to remember
her name, he did mention that he had often seen her accompanied
by an older man.46
Despite the mystery concerning the womans identity, the police
recognized the same type of wound that El Chalequero had inicted
on several women during the 1880s. In fact the press initially specu-
lated on the similarity but surmised that another assassin was imi-
tating the old killer, who was still reported to be in San Juan de Ula.
One ofcial became intrigued by the possibility that El Chalequero
was back in town and took his suspicions to the chief inspector of
the police, Colonel Flix Daz, who also happened to be the presi-
dents nephew. Daz then telegrammed San Juan de Ula and was
informed that Francisco Guerrero had in fact been released in 1904.
Daz informed Chavez, who ordered his men to look for Guerrero in
the vicinity of the colonia Valle Gmez using an old photograph that
Chavez found in his archives. Residents in the crime-ridden colonia
were apprehensive about the murder and readily provided the police
with information. One set of witnesses, the Olay sisters, told Chavez
they had recently seen an old man washing his bloody hands in the
river. Chavez showed Guerreros picture to the women in question,
who identied the man as the same one they had seen. The fact that
the picture was at least eighteen years old is not explained in the
sources. Perhaps the police wanted to prove the power of modern
investigative techniques, so they spread the word that they had a pic-
ture of Guerrero. In any case Chavez and his agents managed to nd
and detain the old assassin in the space of a few days, charging him
with murder.47
Guerreros second trial began shortly afterward. It was a drawn-
out process, with the rst phase beginning in late June 1908 and the
trial continuing through most of August. The press and public were
attracted to the possibility of seeing the legendary murderer, but the
mythic image of Guerrero did not match the sad and tired old man
who sat in the courtroom. After the initial excitement wore off, the
public did not attend the trial in full force as they had in 1890. However,
Guerrero again found himself the target of a sustained and ruthless
attack from the prosecution. To make matters worse, his attorney,
Jos Mara Pavn, accused the judge of making a side bet with some
court ofcials that Guerrero would get the death penalty. Pavn was
known in legal circles as something of a rebrand and given to loud
pronouncements. In any case the presiding judge denied the charge,
ned Pavn fty pesos, ejected him from the court, and then had him
thrown in jail for eight days when he refused to leave.48
With the able attorney out of the way, the prosecution intended
to move aggressively to prove that Guerrero had murdered the still-
unidentied elderly woman. When questioned, Guerrero stated that
he had met the victim in the cantina Los Moritos on the morning
of May 26 and immediately wanted to have sex with her. He bought
her some drinks and made his intentions known. As she responded
favorably to his sexual advances, both of them left the cantina and
proceeded to an isolated spot near the Rio del Consulado, where they
had sexual intercourse. When they nished, Guerrero tried to leave,
but the woman pulled him back toward her. Guerrero insisted on leav-
ing, however, and in his testimony said: I killed her, because after
making love she tried to rob me and injured me on the face. The pain
was so great that I thought she had cut me with a glass and watch-
ing blood come down my face, I hit her. I left her there, not knowing
if she was alive, and I left for the city to look for work.49 Guerrero
testied that the woman had insulted him, telling him that she was
not accustomed to begging old men. You are a slut of a man, she
shouted at him, angrily scratching his body and face and grabbing
his testicles forcefully. After he hit her, Guerrero said, he remem-
bered nothing.50
Unfortunately for Guerrero, several witnesses had seen him walk-
ing and chatting amiably with the woman before her death. A young
boy who was tending some cattle nearby, Jos Ins Rodrguez, testi-
ed that as the woman walked along the river, Guerrero attacked her
from behind, knocked her down, hit her, and then stabbed her in the
neck. The boys testimony matched that of the other witnesses, the
Olay sisters, who saw Guerrero wash his bloody hands in the river and
who claimed to have seen the man with scratches on his face.51
To gain a better understanding of the events surrounding the mur-
der, Judge Ocampo ordered a eld trip to the crime scene, where
the bloody events were to be recreated. On the morning of June 23
Guerrero arrived on the isolated riverbank in the colonia Valle Gmez,
accompanied by the judge, his accusers, and his defense attorney.
Upward of two thousand people came to observe the spectacle. An
armed escort of Rurales (Porrian Mexicos rural police force) and
a contingent of regular soldiers guarded the famous assassin, not
so much to prevent him from escaping as to protect him from the
crowd, many of whom were from the surrounding colonias, includ-
ing La Bolsa. When Guerrero began pointing out where he had talked
to the woman, some in the crowd jeered, while others tried to give
the assassin cigars, small gifts, and coins. The crowd then watched
intensively as the Olay sisters pointed to the spot where they had
seen Guerrero wash his hands. Guerrero denied their accusation and
smugly pointed out that he never washed his hands after committing
a murder. However, he became restless when several persons in the
crowd threatened him. Amid shouts of Kill him and Death to the
Chalequero, Guerrero turned to the commander of the Rurales and
pleaded with him to leave. The exercise ended, and the party returned
to Mexico City via streetcar.52
The trip to the other side received top billing in the capitals
newspapers, a highlight to an otherwise dull trial. Educated Porrians
obtained a safe glimpse of Guerreros haunts, traveling to a place on
the other side without leaving their reading salons. This time around,
however, there was no parade of prostitutes and degenerates. Instead,
Guerreros past proved to be the biggest witness. It had been more
than eighteen years since the rst killings, and the serial killers noto-
riety had now become more legend than fact. Going for the kill, the
prosecution placed Guerreros daughter on the stand and questioned
her about her fathers activities on the day of the murder. Guadalupe
Guerrero said that her father had recently visited her and had taken
a knife from her home with the intention of selling it. The prosecu-
tor also revealed that the victim might have been an old acquaintance
of Guerreros, Genoveva Soto, who had originally testied against
Guerrero in 1890. Guerrero denied this allegation, however, and in
the end the victim remained anonymous.53
Prosecutors also introduced scientic evidence to the case, hop-
ing the information provided by the respected social scientist and
police inspector Carlos Roumagnac would remove any doubts from
the jurors minds. It was a case of Porrian-style modernity versus
the imagined underworld. The most important question, it seemed,
was whether Guerrero was insane. Roumagnac refuted the possibility,
stating that Guerrero was not demented, nor an idiot, and not even
an epileptic as the defense claimed. Instead, Roumagnac classied
him as a degenerate, citing Guerreros personal and family history
as proof. Roumagnac stated that alcoholism was a prime cause of
degeneracy, both physical and moral, and this condition ran strongly
in Guerreros family. Further, Roumagnac believed Guerreros own
mother had contributed to her sons degeneracy by having a bad
temper. Roumagnac added that Guerreros physical characteristics
were contributing factors to his criminality but were not as important
as his emotional disposition. Guerrero preferred the old, the sad, and
the ugly, Roumagnac emphasized, and this inclination sent the man
on a slow spiral toward the basest levels of humanity. Roumagnac,
inuenced by the Italian criminologist Enrico Ferri, concluded that
Guerrero was not a sadist, like Jack the Ripper or the French crimi-
nal Vacher lEventeur, but that his crimes were due to violent, con-
scious, but involuntary impulses. In essence Roumagnac stated that
Guerreros heredity was partially to blame.54
Roumagnacs discourse repeated the earlier government efforts at
casting Guerreros family background as partly responsible for his
crimes. Guerreros wanderings in the Rio del Consulado area and his
sexual promiscuity added to the ofcial image of him as a degenerate
criminal. For his part Guerrero testied that the elderly woman had
been drunk and had passed out during their encounter. Therefore,
Guerrero mused, someone else had killed her. He also reportedly
told his daughter, upon hearing the news that the elderly woman
had been found dead, that dead people were always found around
here. Guerreros defense, however, was weak when compared to
the prosecutions aggressive tone. For example, the chief prosecu-
tor, Carlos Garca, compared his own efforts to divine justice. During
his closing statement Garca launched into a moralistic discourse on
crime and the city, noting that every morning residents of the capi-
tal awoke to read stories about crimes and murders. In a bombastic
tone he stated that the Valley of Mexico is a valley of bloodthe
bloody wave advances and threatens not just the low places but also
the homes in the higher places.55
Although Garcas attack was clearly over the top, it did reect elite
fears that crime was rampant in the capital. By 1908 the Porrian state
had encountered some serious opposition to its rule, and Garca may
have subconsciously incorporated those fears into his speech. Perhaps
Garca, as a member of the government, feared that Porrian control
was slowly slipping away. In any case the evidence against Guerrero,
coupled with the testimony from Carlos Roumagnac, was more than
enough to sentence the exconvict to the death penalty. Even though
the defense did its best to show that Guerrero had fought with the
elderly woman and had killed her during an argument, not in cold
blood, the jury found the facts against the accused overwhelming.
It took them only thirty minutes to reach their conclusion and nd
the aged Guerrero guilty. As the verdict was read, Guerrero wept. In
the background his oldest daughter, Guadalupe, also cried as sym-
pathetic observers consoled her. His fate sealed, the judge handed
the old assassin the death penalty, but El Chalequero would cheat
the hangman. He died in Jarez Hospital shortly thereafter of a cere-
bral hemorrhage. El Imparcial exaggerated in summarizing his grisly
career, noting that the Ferocious Chalequero, assassin of eighteen
women, had died. His remains were deposited in a common grave.
The terror of Peralvillo had met his nal fate.56
Resurrecting the Other Side

As the Porrian master narrative approached the end of its course
in 1908, Francisco Guerreros deeds had been mythologized to such
an extent that it no longer mattered how many women he had killed.
Instead, the serial killer had become the living personication of the
imagined underworld and an important part of the larger elite-led
project of social control and moral regeneration. That his death would
come only days before the revolution broke out is indeed ironic.
Guerreros career was an essential ingredient in the creation of
the Porrian regime. Mexico Citys elites incorporated the legend
Fig. 2. Scenes from the 1908 trial of Francisco Guerrero.
El Imparcial, September 5, 1908.
of El Chalequero into their idea of what the ideal city was and was
not. For elites Guerrero signied the worst elements of the capitals
urban underclass: crime, vice, and moral degeneration. Thus, in the
ofcial narrative, Mexico Citys urban poor were singularly dened
as a group, not as the diverse population they actually were.
Perhaps Porrian elites felt a sense of satisfaction in building this
social barrier. Yet in the last months of 1890, as the citys elite busied
themselves with depicting Guerrero as the representative of urban
immorality, another case emerged that threatened to unravel the ofcial
story. A member of Mexico Citys middle class, Luis Yzaguirre, shot
and killed his lover, Mara Piedad Ontiveros, on a busy street outside
a known house of prostitution. The incident received extensive press
coverage and threatened to tear down the wall between Guerreros
world and that of the ideal city.

3
Love, Betrayal, and Death in the Underworld
Do not ever give yourself to a woman because they are always the
ruin of men.Verse from the corrido Reections after the Execution, author
unknown, 1908
o n e f a l l a f t e r n o o n in Mexico City, persons walking

along San Jeronimo Street in District Three were startled by several
gunshots coming from inside a parked coach. As onlookers gath-
ered, the coach sped off. A police ofcer walking his beat managed
to stop the driver and, as he looked inside, saw a young woman
lying on the oor bleeding from several gunshots. Above her sat a
nervous-looking young man with, quite literally, a smoking gun by
his side. This scene represents our rst glimpse into the account of
Luis Yzaguirre and Mara Piedad Ontiveros. On October 13, 1890,
Yzaguirre shot Ontiveros after an argument sparked by his anger
over her impending breakup with him. Apparently, Yzaguirre and
Ontiveros had carried on a secret love affair for over a year. Increas-
ingly frustrated by Ontiveross refusal to leave her longtime lover,
Carlos Rodrguez, a man who was also Yzaguirres friend and co-
worker, Yzaguirre acted in an apparent t of jealous rage. It would
be a decision with lasting consequences.1
For the capitals residents the story of Luis and Piedad presented a
dilemma. Although the case had all the makings of a typical crime of
passion, including forbidden love, illicit sex, and murder, it was not
the typical crime frequently associated with the underclass. Instead,
both perpetrator and victim were educated, albeit members of the
lower middle class. For this reason the case received extensive newspa-
per coverage, possibly reecting the Porrian elites discomfort with
the murder as well as with its implied sexual history. Mexicans were
denitely interested and must have wondered what exactly drove the
young clerk to kill his lover. Further, what of Ontiveros? What has her
exact role in the incident? These and other questions aroused public
opinion. The answers would prove to be uncomfortable reminders to
the elite that perhaps, just perhaps, the criminal underworld also had
a hold on the supposed beneciaries of moral progress. For the most
part educated Porrians as well as the press believed that crimes of
passion were the exclusive domain of poor Mexicans such as Francisco
Guerrero. Gente decente simply did not kill each other in ts of jeal-
ous rage. Therefore, the case of Luis and Piedad troubled those who
pretended to direct the moral future of the nation and imperiled the
construction of the imagined underworld.
To understand this case and its broader implications for the Porrian
elite, we must also take into account the growing power of the Mexico
City press in shaping public opinion. By the beginning of the 1890s the
capitals newspapers had undergone an important transformation.
No longer did the historical conicts revolving around nineteenth-
century politics dominate its columns. Instead, the press increasingly
focused on a growing urban population that was interested in local
news and sensational stories. As we saw in the Guerrero case, cel-
ebrated criminal trials attracted popular attention from the general
population and drew the interest of government ofcials and intel-
lectuals. For the elite these cases provided an opportunity to educate
the public on the imagined moral evils of the day: prostitution, gam-
bling, and pulque. Moreover, as show trials they proved invaluable
in drawing a deep distinction between the ideal behaviors espoused
by the elite and the behaviors of the underclass.2
In particular, cases centered on so-called crimes of passion deeply
interested all levels of Porrian society. Jolle Guillas, in his study on
72 Love, Betrayal, and Death in the Underworld
nineteenth-century France, noted that crimes of passion were dis-
tinctly private affairs and took place mostly in the sanctity of homes,
where intimate acts were hidden from outsiders. As the middle class
retreated into the domestic private sphere, crimes of passion increas-
ingly remained hidden and not likely to be publicly viewed.3
It was this last point that made these incidents popular in the
Porrian capital. When passions ared and violence erupted, crimes
of passion suddenly became public dramas. Yet while Ontiveross
murder provided Porrians with only a glimpse of personal turmoil,
we are more fortunate since we are privy to a remarkable set of cor-
respondence between Yzaguirre, Ontiveros, and Rodrguez. These
love letters not only reveal the inner feelings of three middle-class
Porrians, they also provide us with an invaluable window through
which to study personal beliefs and fears associated with late nine-
teenth-century Mexican views on sex, vice, and the underworld.
Love, Porrian Style

In general Mexican elites cast a critical eye toward public lovers quar-
rels but reserved especially harsh criticism for domestic disputes involv-
ing the poor, whichgiven the underclasss living conditionswere
usually public and sometimes violent. Such violence, elites reasoned,
was indicative of the urban poors degenerate qualities. In contrast
crimes of passion among the middle and upper class were considered
shocking and scandalous incidents, since they potentially exposed
middle- and upper-class families to public dishonor and humiliation.
Thus when a member of Mexico Citys educated classes participated
in this type of crime, the results were labeled as tragic, while a simi-
lar crime among the poor could produce elite commentary ranging
from curious interest to derisive laughter.4
Class differences were indeed a signicant factor in how the Porrian
press, prosecutors, and the general public perceived and interpreted
crimes of passion. For instance, in 1905 Mexico City residents learned
about the details surrounding the Tragedy of Amargura Street.
Arnulfo Villegas, a butcher by trade, had successfully courted Carlota
Mauri, a grocery clerk, but had fallen out with her due to his excessive
drinking and jealousies. Mauri, tired of Villegass behavior, called off
Love, Betrayal, and Death in the Underworld 73
a planned wedding but, fearful of retribution, decided to leave the
capital for a relatives home in the neighboring state of Hidalgo. On
the day she was to depart, however, Villegas showed up at the tene-
ment house where she lived and asked to speak to her. Despite her
mothers warnings, Mauri sat down and talked to her former lover,
who asked her if it was all over. Yes, she allegedly replied, our
relationship cannot continue. Hearing these words, Villegas took
out a gun and shot his former girlfriend twice, instantly killing her.
She did not have time to scream.5
Media representations of this case proved to be popular with the
reading public, but despite the apparently tragic way in which Mauri
died, newspapers preferred to portray the incident as an example of
how members of the underclass carried on an affair. What was the
motive for this tragedy? La Gaceta de Policia asked. Nothing: it was
an I dont love you anymore which for those people of the lower
class is the same as a physical blow. El Imparcial gleefully noted how
Villegas may have been secretly involved with another woman, who
one day allegedly showed up at Mauris house and, crying, told her
that Villegas was the father of her two children. Mauri, angry, called
off the wedding. Another report described Villegas as a man who
possessed a savage and rened cruelty. Carlos Roumagnac, who
included Villegas in his studies, depicted the butcher as a man who
destroyed a household.6
Roumagnac, whose later studies gravitated toward sexual degen-
eracy, was nevertheless interested in the role passion played in mur-
der. In Matadores de mujeres, Roumagnac asked the question that oth-
er Porrians were also asking, namely, what drove a man to kill a
woman? The criminologist tried to nd the answer in the scientic
analysis of a criminals physical features, a process pioneered by the
Frenchman Alphonse Bertillon and popular in Porrian criminology.
According to this method, a certain head size, a sloping forehead, and
other measurements were supposed to indicate a propensity toward
criminality. Of course since Mexicans of poor and indigenous origin
were likely to possess some of these qualities, Porrian elites rel-
ished the systems potential.7 Roumagnac used the process to study
Villegas but was forced to conclude that the murderers head deed
classication as a born assassin. Clearly, Villegas was not in the same
league as Francisco Guerrero. Further, Villegas was something of a
romantic, if we are to judge by a letter he wrote to Mauri (or dictated
to someone to write), in which he declared his undying love for his
soon-to-be-dead girlfriend. Although happy at rst, Mauri perhaps
cooled their relationship because she was afraid of marrying a hot-
head like Villegas.8
Judging from their abundance in the judicial archives, Mexico City
police must have dealt with many cases involving individuals such
as Villegasyoung men who traversed the city in pursuit of love and
sex. Some of these cases fall under the denition of rapto y estupro.
The typical rapto y estupro case involved a man who forcibly took a
woman (virgin), either by violence or seduction, and then had sexual
intercourse with her. Since the incident resulted in the loss of her
personal honor, the woman had no recourse but to denounce the
man in hopes he would marry her. If not, the man could face prison
time. This is exactly what happened to Gregorio Buenrrostro on the
night of July 23, 1889.9
On that night Juana Escovedo led a complaint with police charg-
ing that Buenrrostro had raped her fourteen-year-old daughter,
Mercedes Montaez. Escovedo stated that on the evening of July 5,
she sent Merced and her younger sister to buy charcoal for cooking.
Later in the evening the younger sibling returned, crying, and said
that Buenrrostro had taken Mercedes. Eleven days afterward, both
Buenrrostro and Montaez appeared at Escovedos door. Apparently,
Escovedo forgave her daughter and warned Buenrrostro that he could
not see Mercedes anymore unless he married her. Escovedo did not
prevent Buenrrostro from visiting the house. However, Buenrrostro
later tried to take Mercedes without her mothers permission.10
Montaez defended Buenrrostro to the police, however, stating
that she had lost her virginity ve months prior to the alleged kidnap-
ping and that Buenrrostro had promised to marry her at that date.
Montaez also emphasized that Buenrrostro did not in any way seduce
her. Buenrrostro backed up her story, adding that he had maintained
a relationship with Mercedes for about four months and had gained
her parents condence to such a degree that he was able to visit her
at her house and take her on coach rides. Buenrrostro also said that
on or around July 5 he and Mercedes had decided to live together.
Buenrrostro swore that Mercedes went to live with him voluntarily
on the promise that he would marry her. Interestingly, he stated that
he made use of her, the contemporary term for sexual intercourse,
but apparently conserved her virginity and intended to marry her.11
What that use was does not appear in the judicial le. In any case
Escovedo dropped her complaint when Buenrrostro afrmed his ear-
lier promise to marry Montaez.12 The incident, though minor, does
highlight the way in which ordinary Mexicans negotiated the land-
scape surrounding love and relationships in Porrian Mexico City.
In explaining his actions Buenrrostro stated that he had preserved
Montaezs virginity, and by extension her honor, thus claiming the
higher moral grounda claim often difcult for members of the
underclass.
Indeed, the Porrian elite did not see the underclass as possessing
personal honor at all, and any attempts by poor Mexicans to claim
respectability were met with criticism, especially if these claims resulted
from criminal actions. In particular the topic of prostitution proved
to be a lightning rod for elite commentary, since educated Porrians
did not associate prostitutes with personal honor. However, criminal
narratives involving prostitution did make for interesting reading,
since they opened a safe doorway through which gente decente could
observe the forbidden sexual landscape of the capital while they also
provided the basis for moral lessons.
For example, in March 1897 Mexico City residents read (and heard)
with interest of the misadventures of Mara Villa, alias La Chiquita, a
well-known prostitute who shot and killed a rival, Esperanza Gutirrez,
alias La Malaguea, in a brothel. As I have mentioned previously,
both Villa and Gutirrez lived and loved in an underworld of sex,
nightclubs, and bordellos, a world where passions ared and quickly
died, sometimes quite literally. The events surrounding the public
dispute between Villa and Gutirrez had their roots in a rivalry the
two had over the attentions of Salvador Ortigoza, a notorious play-
boy. Apparently, Villa and Gutirrez were coworkers in a bordello,
in all likelihood one located in the more central part of the city, since
the two women did not act or behave like prostitutes who frequented
places such as La Bolsa. Sometime prior to the shooting, Villa met and
fell in love with Ortigoza, the rich son of a local attorney. Problems
began when Ortigoza also romanced Gutirrez. In the closed world
of Porrian prostitution, this social transgression did not go unno-
ticed. Villa found out and, at least on one occasion prior to March
1897, confronted Gutirrez in a cantina, leading to a scufe. When
more incidents followed, both women felt they had no recourse but to
schedule a duel, but friends intervened and cancelled the match.13
The next incident would be the last. On the night of March 7, 1897,
a costume dance took place in Mexico Citys famed Tivoli del Eliseo.
Located in the northeastern corner of District Eight near Colonia San
Rafael, just south of the Buena Vista train depot, the Tivoli was an
extensive garden where picnics, dances, dinners, and amusements
were periodically held. In addition a bowling alley and a skating rink,
both modern forms of recreation, attracted curious Mexicans from
mostly the middle and upper class. On the night in question, Villa
had rst gone to dinner with Ortigoza and a friend of his at the fash-
ionable Concordia Restaurant in the downtown district. Ortigoza
usually spent Sundays with Villa, taking her on coach rides, to the
theater, or on excursions to places such as La Viga. For Villa, Ortigoza
functioned as a respectable male partner and a lover; probably a for-
mer client, he did not pay for sex and provided the essential service
of protection, both social and physical. Certainly, being the son of
a well-respected attorney had its privileges. Ortigoza could afford
to take girlfriends to expensive restaurants such as the Concordia,
which served all its meals a la carte and was frequented by many of
the Porrian well-to-do.14
During the dinner Ortigozas friend dropped a fork. Villa, who
considered this a bad omen, asked the young man to lift the uten-
sil. He did so, and Villa drew a small cross with water on the oor.
Spooked, Villa did not want to go to the dance anymore. However,
appearances needed to be kept, and she attended anyway. More likely,
Ortigoza convinced her, no doubt amused at her rural beliefs. Later in
the evening, after the couple arrived at the Tivoli and ordered drinks,
Gutirrez arrived, accompanied by a date and friends, and trouble
began. Gutirrez began to talk aloud with her companions, referring
to Villa in the unfriendliest terms. Gutirrezs male escort, probably
upset at his dates behavior, left, but not before asking Gutirrez to
leave with him. She refused, replying, I want to be alone. This com-
ment aroused suspicion in Villa, who began to suspect that Ortigoza
was secretly going to meet Gutirrez, especially since Ortigoza also
refused to spend the night with Villa, saying that he had to attend to
business early in the morning. Later in the evening both left, Gutirrez
retiring to her bordello on Tarasquillo Street, Villa to her home on
Merced Street. Before Ortigoza retired for the night, Villa asked him
for his gun, ensuring that he would return the next day. It was clear
at this point that Villa intended to confront Gutirrez with Ortigozas
gun for the imagined insults to her honor and perhaps catch her lover
in La Malagueas arms.15
Embarked on her mission of vengeance, Villa took a coach from
her home in the Merced area in Precinct Two to Tarasquillo Street,
located in the bordello-lled section south of Alameda Park. When
she arrived at the house, she went inside, let in by the gate attendant
who recognized her. She went to Gutirrezs room and knocked on the
door, and Gutirrez answered. Villa instantly reproached her for her
behavior at the dance, asking her, Why do you mock me? Gutirrez
replied that she did as she pleased and did not think anymore about
it. Gutirrez then let loose a volley of obscene insults. Villa answered
by raising the gun in her hand and shooting Gutirrez in the left eye,
instantly killing her. Villa would later change her story, saying that she
had not gone to see Gutirrez with the intention of killing her, but only
to scare her, and that the gun went off accidentally when Gutirrez
attacked her as she tried to leave. Although she would later state
that she felt remorse for the killing, when police arrived they found
her sitting in Gutirrezs room, quietly contemplating her actions.
She also did not deny her true intent at the time, saying shortly after-
ward, If Esperanza had one hundred lives I would have killed her
one hundred times.16
The bloody conclusion to this underworld triangle produced one of
the most sensationalistic episodes in the history of Porrian criminal-
ity. The trial, held in September 1897, brought together people from
all walks of life, but mostly prostitutes, bullghters, and other assort-
ed characters from Mexico Citys imagined underworld. Previously,
scores of prostitutes had turned out for Gutirrezs funeral. Gutirrez,
who had been born in Spain, was laid to rest by several bullghters
acting as pallbearers. Now, the drama moved into the courtroom as
one of Mexico Citys most notorious prostitutes attempted to defend
her actions against the charge of murder.17
It was not much of a trial. Villa struggled to deny her previous state-
ment admitting her guilt. One of her attorneys, Jos Mara Pavn,
considered it difcult to defend a woman whose occupation made
her instantly guilty to the jury. At one point prosecutor Jos Pen del
Valle criticized Villas bad habits and compared the murder to the
biblical story of Cain and Abel. Nevertheless, her other defense attor-
ney, Rafael Rodrguez Talavera, argued that it was not jealousy that
led to the murder, but Villas unfortunate past. She was the daughter
of humble workers living in the countryside and was seduced at the
young age of thirteen by the older son of her employer. Afterward
she was taken to Guadalajara, where she was abandoned with little
money. She met a woman who hired her as a maid and, when she came
to Mexico City, found herself pressed into prostitution. Rodrguez
Talavera also said that the shooting was accidental and could not have
been intentional, because the wounds were sloppy and Villa did not
know how to shoot. As further proof, he stated that Villa had burned
herself on the chest when she discharged the gun.18
Several other people testied during the trial, including Ortigoza,
but their statements were of little consequence. Judge Manuel F. de la
Hoz showed no mercy toward Villa, attacking her claim of honor and
stating that as a fallen woman, she had none. Villas ordeal reected
the publics common conception of prostitutes as degenerate, even
though she was clearly an upper-class prostitute. For example, elite
opinion frequently described prostitutes as: poor souls, libertines,
lost women, women of the bad life, and the ever popular social
parasites. Even though Villa had the money to go to places like the
Tivoli del Eliseo, which was also frequented by the upper class, her
now notorious reputation had transformed her into a sort of moral
interloper, unt to share in the benets of Porrian modernity that
the Tivoli aspired to represent. Her once desirable status as a highly
paid prostitute now destroyed by her actions, she became subject
to the standard elite discourse on prostitution. Thus it did not take
the jury long to come to their conclusion. In a manner similar to the
Guerrero trial, the jury quickly found Mara Villa guilty of murder.
Since the death penalty was never applied to women, the judge sen-
tenced her to twenty years in Beln. The misadventures of La Chiquita
were over.19
The case of Mara Villa and Esperanza Gutirrez demonstrated the
power of crimes of passion to entice and shock Porrian society, but
also highlighted elite perceptions about the differences between the
poor and gente decente. The capitals newspapers collectively blamed
Villa for having been seduced rst by men and then by prostitution,
clearly implying that relationships (and seduction) outside the accepted
(elite-dened) social norms led to ruin and death. Further, the fates
of both Villa and Mauri offered the Porrian elite an opportunity to
educate the aspiring middle class on the evils of prostitution and illicit
sex. Of course such lessons glossed over the fact that many men from
the elite regularly frequented prostitutes. However, Porrian moral-
ity was, if anything, intended for public consumption. Whether they
appeared in etiquette handbooks or the editorials of El Imparcial, moral
lessons were intended to provide a visible wall between the supposed
degenerate and lustful activities of the poor and the virtuous and pure
gente decente. Porrian elites clearly imagined this divide as a bor-
der that reinforced elite pretensions about society. When the imagi-
nary line was breached, however, elites were more likely to assign
blame to extenuating factors such as alcohol or prostitutes, and the
victim was more likely to be pitied than cursed. In the case of Luis
and Piedad, we see the same discourse about the alleged inuences
of the underworld, except that unlike what occurred in most crimi-
nal trials, in this one it is Luis Yzaguirre and Piedad Ontiveros who
are the most vocal.20
Luis and Piedad

On the surface both Mara Piedad Ontiveros and Luis Yzaguirre
appeared to represent Porrian ideals. Nineteen years old at the
time of her murder, Ontiveros was educated and possessed her own
calling cardsthe mark of a lady. Yzaguirre, who was twenty-ve
years old, was employed as a clerk with the government and report-
edly came from a good family and earned a large enough salary to
travel for leisure. Appearances were deceiving, however. Ontiveros
engaged in sexual behavior that the elite considered risky. Yzaguirre
liked to drink heavily. Thus the case of Luis and Piedad may repre-
sent a more realistic portrait of the urban lower middle-class at the
end of the nineteenth century than the portrait espoused by Porrian
moralists.21
The story of Luis and Piedad began in 1886, when Ontiveros met
Carlos Rodrguez, a paymaster with the Mexican army and a high-level
National Treasury employee. The exact nature of their initial meet-
ing is unknown, but one can speculate that the younger Ontiveros,
who was fteen at the time, fell madly in love with the older, dash-
ing Rodrguez, who was twenty-seven and held a secure position in
the Porrian government. Ontiveros, a native of Mexico City, was the
oldest of several children in a household headed by her mother. She
took an active role in the care of her ailing mother as well as her three
younger brothers. Thus she would have seen the older Rodrguez as
a godsend for her family. In any case the paymaster was also equally
enamored, so much so that he soon began paying Ontiveross hous-
ing and living expenses as well as caring nancially for his new girl-
friends family. Despite extensive court documentation and news-
paper coverage, not much is known about Rodrguez except that he
came from a middle-class background, proted from a commission
with the government for nancial services to the army, and enjoyed
going to the theater. Despite the amorous nature of his relationship
with Ontiveros, however, Rodrguez was more of a father gure to
her, and she implied so in her correspondence.22
Rodrguez clearly exhibited fatherly concern for younger per-
sons, which can also be seen in his friendship with Luis Yzaguirre.
Also born in Mexico City, Yzaguirre was a junior employee in the
National Treasury. Rodrguez probably served as mentor to the younger
Yzaguirre. Since the age difference was not great, a close relationship
also developed, that of two good friends who shared similar tastes in
music and art. In fact Rodrguez and Yzaguirre had known each other
since childhood, not surprising since they both most likely grew up
in the tight social circles that typied middle- and upper-class life
in late nineteenth-century Mexico City. Further proof of the bonds
of masculine friendship is evidenced by that fact that their fathers
were good friends. A strong friendship, a mutually benecial work-
ing arrangement, and family ties all led to Rodrguezs inclusion of
his friend in the private relationship he held with Ontiveros, begin-
ning with an invitation one evening in January 1889.23
On that evening Rodrguez and Ontiveros attended the theater, a
popular pastime for members of the educated elite. Perhaps there was
an opera or even an orchestra, we are not sure, but Carlos Rodrguez
denitely enjoyed the ne arts, and on this particular occasion he
spotted his friend Luis Yzaguirre attending the theater by himself.
Rodrguez immediately invited his younger coworker for drinks at his
house, but not before introducing him to his companion, Ontiveros.
That night, as the trio talked and drank, Yzaguirre and Ontiveros
fell madly in love with each other. A few days later, on February 4,
Yzaguirre and Ontiveros met on a street corner and proceeded to a
house of assignation, where the couple consummated their newfound
love. After this rst encounter they regularly met in other inexpen-
sive hotels. Yzaguirre, apparently emboldened by his activities, soon
took the initiative and on several occasions invited Ontiveros to din-
ner, to the theater, and on Sunday and holiday picnics, sometimes
in the company of Rodrguez, who did not at rst suspect anything.
Yzaguirre was so eager to see his new lover that he would even pay
for the evening when the three of them went out together. The com-
bination of open and secret meetings was apparently too much for
Ontiveros, who felt increasing shame. Yzaguirre attempted to lessen
her growing remorse by giving her small gifts such as inexpensive
jewelry. Ontiveros, however, continued to feel badly, especially since
most of the meetings were taking place in houses of assignation, also
known as casas de cita.24
As we have seen, casas de cita (literally houses of appointment)
served as integral parts of Mexico Citys sexual underworld, hotels
where prostitutes went with their customers but where no women
actually lived. Couples intent on consummating their love also used
these places. Regulated on paper but ignored by authorities, casas
de cita were usually situated on out-of-the-way streets, perfect places
for a romantic rendezvous. They functioned, in essence, as sanctuar-
ies where Porrian rules of propriety did not apply. Couples belong-
ing to the middle class and, for that matter, any person who had the
money could use these places to escape the prying eyes of neighbors
or nd refuge from family surveillance. Revealingly, Ontiveros knew
the owner of one house on San Jeronimo Street, Mara Refugio Pulido,
and preferred her hotel to all others. Ontiveros would regularly meet
Yzaguirre at prearranged street corners, the location exchanged by
notes sent through couriers, more than likely children. Once there,
she would wait until he arrived in a rented coach and took her to the
room. However, on occasions when Rodrguez was away on busi-
ness, Ontiveros welcomed her lover into her own house, much to
her later regret.25
Intimate details about Yzaguirre and Ontiveross affair are revealed
to us through a series of love letters exchanged by the couple. These
letters, aside from offering a portal into the couples inner emotions,
also reveal what middle-class Porrians felt about morality and sex-
uality, two powerful forces reshaping Mexican society at the end of
the nineteenth century. The details from the letters are actually quite
startling. In one letter sent by Ontiveros, we get a sense of what she
thought about the possible consequences of sexual behaviors con-
sidered immoral by the standards of the time:
My Luis,
Yesterday at 8:30 I became an honorable woman again. Now I am
going to go through with my promise and not go anymore to any
bad house and also not have friends that you do not like and see
you with a clean body and heart. I am also going to love you very
much and be yours. Now I expect you to do the same, fullling your
promise to me.26
Ontiveross reference to her menstrual cycle and to friends who were

in all likelihood prostitutes tells us two things. First, we get a sense
of the way in which morality and personal honor became intertwined

in romantic relationships in Porrian Mexico. In this case pregnancy
before marriage was viewed as dishonorable, clearly indicating how
inuential the messages from both church and state were among the
middle class. Second, the letter reveals the fear middle-class women
felt about the power and lure of the underworld. The reference to a
bad house of course refers to a house of assignation, telling us that
deep down, the middle class understood that the sexual underworld
of Mexico City was dangerous and fraught with peril. Perhaps the
Porrian moralists during the Guerrero trial were more inuential
than previously thought.27
Despite her misgivings about the sexual nature of their relation-
ship, Ontiveros continued seeing her lover in secret, but this proved
increasingly unsatisfying to Yzaguirre, who, growing despondent from
not being able to see Ontiveros more frequently, began to long for a
more open relationship. Perhaps his desire to t into accepted norms
led him to become impatient. Yzaguirre may have grown uneasy with
the meetings in hotels frequented by prostitutes. Ontiveros also felt a
mounting degree of shame. In one letter she referred to a life tainted
by prostitution. This does not indicate that she was a prostitute; there
is no mention of it in the newspaper accounts. It is likely, though, that
Ontiveros may have felt her amorous relationship was akin to pros-
titution. We must also note that she was familiar with places where
prostitution was practiced. Without denite proof, though, we must
conclude that emotional turmoil caused by her secretive relationship
drove her to feel increasing guilt. Perhaps these types of emotions
are common in all secretive lovers, emotions marked by a longing to
bring things out into the opena desire perhaps to control the out-
come before the inevitable discovery that usually spells disaster. It was
precisely this outcome that befell the couple in December 1889.28
Sometime during that month, Carlos Rodrguezs maid went to
Ontiveross house to deliver some food and upon arriving saw Yzaguirre
there. She dutifully informed her employer, who then confronted his
lifelong friend. We can only imagine what the maid saw. What followed
next must have been the classic episode when the affair is found out.
Unfortunately, we know very little of the personal confrontation or
even whether it came to blows. However, the meeting must have been
explosive, for allegedly some angry words were exchanged between
the two men, but especially by Rodrguez, who thoroughly cursed his
friend. In any case Rodrguez already suspected something, since in
his statement to the police he mentioned an argument he had had
with Ontiveros on the day before the discovery, apparently concern-
ing her close friendship with Yzaguirre. Ontiveross response had
been to storm out, obviously leaving Rodrguez to ponder the situa-
tion. Rodrguez, deciding perhaps to make his girlfriend feel better,
sent the maid to the local market to buy the ingredients to prepare a
good lunch the following day. Little did the paymaster know that the
errand would only end in conrming his suspicions about Ontiveros
and Yzaguirre.29
Rodrguezs angry confrontation with his friend seemed to be one
of the few times he showed any backbone, for eventually he recon-
ciled with Yzaguirre. In the meanwhile the revelation caused enough
disruption in Yzaguirres personal universe to lead him to stop seeing
Ontiveros. In April 1890 Ontiveros convinced Rodrguez that nothing
had happened between her and Yzaguirre and that Yzaguirre was very
sad about the falling out. Rodrguez believed Ontiveros, had a change of
heart, and sent his estranged friend a letter on Good Friday asking him
to visit Ontiveros, because, in her words, she needed him. Rodrguez
pleaded with his old friend and was apparently willing to forgive him,
if only to make Ontiveros happy. Of course Yzaguirre eagerly took
Rodrguez up on his offer. Soon thereafter, he and Ontiveros began
seeing each other and even resumed their theatre-going activities,
complete with Rodrguez in tow. Their meetings were infrequent
enough, though, for Yzaguirre to complain to Ontiveros in the fol-
lowing letter, sent in late April:
My love,
When I checked into the hotel I found your precious letter. I am also
not satised with watching you at your house as I pass by and if you
tell me where and when we could meet to talk, then you would make
me happy. In regards to my photograph, you will have it soon and
you will give me yours, right my love? What are you telling me? My
love, are you afraid I am going to tell you that it would be better that

I will not see you anymore? But you know, beautiful child, that to
stop seeing you would be to stop living; dont you believe that I love
you, Piedad of my life? I think of you always and even though I am
far from your eyes, I am always with you in my thoughts. Answer
me soon, telling me where and when we can see each other. May
your coral lips receive a kiss of love from the person who loves you
more than life itself.30
The increasingly desperate Yzaguirre, tempted by Ontiveross own

desire to see him, must have wondered how the earlier December inci-
dent, which ordinarily would have been the end of the affair and the
beginning of a new, open relationship, instead marked an apparent
reconciliation between Carlos and Piedad. It seemed that everything
was back where it started, secret meetings and all, except that now
Ontiveros was more restricted in her activities.31
Accordingly, Yzaguirre changed strategy and began focusing on
separating Ontiveros and Rodrguez, rst by placing some pressure
on his friend. Angry that Ontiveros did not leave Rodrguez, Yzaguirre
began to spread rumors about her. In July of the same year Yzaguirre
told Rodrguez that Ontiveros was seeing another man and that if he
(Rodrguez) did not stop seeing Ontiveros, he would have no other
choice but to end their friendship. By doing this Yzaguirre elevated
himself to a superior moral position and at the same time attempted
to shame his friend, using a twisted reversal of personal honor, into
abandoning the relationship, implying that Ontiveros was unworthy of
Rodrguezs attention. Of course there was no other lover; Yzaguirres
ploy was an attempt to force a break in the relationship between
Ontiveros and Rodrguez so that he could safely restart the affair,
this time in the open. Uncomfortable with lying anymore, Yzaguirre
next resorted to threatening his friend. This failed, as Rodrguez found
a spark of courage and refused to be cowed.32
Perhaps Rodrguez was attempting to defy the increasingly popular
turn-of-the-century perception that implied upper-class men were in
danger of becoming too effeminate. As we have seen, Porrian critics
of the time went to great lengths to separate civilization from barba-
rism, stating in numerous social critiques that civilized (educated)

men did not commit violent crimes. However, a growing literary tradi-
tion during the Porriato also pointed out that these males were not
masculine enough. If we are to compare Yzaguirre to Rodrguez,
the smitten clerk seems to emerge as a sort of overly masculine pred-
ator in comparison with his friend, but this characterization hides
a deeper complexity. Yzaguirre was troubled by his involvement in
sexual activity outside accepted Porrian norms. Perhaps his domi-
nant behavior reected this mounting anxiety.33
Anxious or not, Yzaguirre found it difcult to control his feel-
ings. Realizing that his threats had cut him off from Ontiveros,
he turned increasingly desperate and hostile during the summer
of 1890, demanding that Ontiveros leave Rodrguez and go live
with him instead. For example, the distraught clerk showed up at a
house of assignation owned by Mara Refugio Pulido, a close friend
of Ontiveros, apparently having followed his estranged lover there.
Using the false pretense that he had a box of perfumes for Pulidos
daughter, Yzaguirre gained entry and confronted Ontiveros, threat-
ening her. Pulido interceded, though, and pulled out a gun, aiming it
at the amorous interloper and telling him not to threaten the family.
Yzaguirre immediately backed down, telling Pulido that he would
leave, while Ontiveros came out of a back room and talked to him. He
left quietly. Two weeks later, in another incident, Yzaguirre showed
up at Ontiveross house and demanded sex, but Ontiveros refused.
Angered, Yzaguirre red his pistol at a wall, causing some damage
that Ontiveros had to quickly x, apparently so that Rodrguez would
not nd out about the incident.34
By this point the relationship had devolved into an ongoing series of
threats punctuated by extreme violence on the part of the now hostile
Yzaguirre. Despite the confrontation at the Pulido home, Yzaguirre
refused to be cowed. In a subsequent incident he assaulted Ontiveros
with the blunt end of a blade. He also threatened to kill both Ontiveros
and Rodrguez. Ontiveros confessed her growing fear of Yzaguirre
to her friend Pulido, telling her that she was afraid Yzaguirre would
eventually kill her. Pulido counseled her to stop seeing Yzaguirre,
but Ontiveros felt resigned to the inevitable, as demonstrated in the
following letter to Rodrguez:
My father,
I know I have made you suffer much but you have always been good
to me. Once again, for a thousandth time I ask for your forgiveness
with all my heart. I would rather die than hurt you again. You did
not know what was going to happen when you brought Luis to the
house and I did not know my destiny and did not control my heart
when I fell in love with him, a powerful passion that is my rst and
shall never die. I will not leave you angry at me, not you or him, so
I would rather die, a punishment I happily receive for making you
suffer so much. Because I have decided not to go with him, I am
going to die in my best years, but God knows that if I had another
chance I would not be with him. Now, instead of Heaven await-
ing us we will see each other in Hell. My feelings will not leave me
in peace since you have never given me problems and you have
always loved me with kindness. I confess all this to you since he
has decided to kill me. Since in life you never refused me, I expect
you to follow my last wish, that of never abandoning my beloved
mother or my brothers. Please do what you think is best and give
them a good education. Make a man out of Paco and do not let him
fall like I have. For Tomasito and Alejandro I also expect you not
to abandon them. I also ask you to hold the wake at my house, and
to have a tomb where they can go visit me. Dont believe that I am
afraid of death. You, my second father, my beloved mother, my lov-
ing brothers will not remember me, but Luis will remember me and
be happy once he sees me in the cofn. This is my destiny. Only you
and my family know that he [Luis] was the one who killed me and
if he does not come to justice, it is better since there is no remedy
for my death. In closing, goodbye my good father, my brother, my
good angel; do not forget my last wishes and I die happy if you for-
give me. Goodbye and may the maker of the universe forgive me.
Goodbye Carlos.35
Ontiveross powerful message made clear her true feelings for

Rodrguezher preference to think of him more as a father gure
than a loverand also her growing conviction that Yzaguirre would
eventually kill her. Her thoughts about her younger sibling Paco also

reveal her fear of the lure of illicit relationships and risky behavior,
conditions she felt trapped in, destined never to escape.
According to Carmen Ramos Escandon, even though Mexican
society during the era desired to elevate women to a more progres-
sive role, it still wanted them to retain some aspects of their tradi-
tional role, including dedication to the home and subordination to
men.36 Ontiveross personal convictions and her lack of initiative in
protecting her rights may have reected her acceptance of the status
quo. Perhaps Ontiveros, like many young and educated women at
the time, took the moral lessons from etiquette handbooks to heart
and followed them religiously. Such handbooks, popular at the time
and aimed especially at women, prescribed rules for social behavior,
for example, instructing them on what to wear on special occasions,
such as when a gentleman called.37
Yzaguirre was no gentleman, however, and Ontiveros, despite her
literary accomplishments, was not the ideal Porrian lady. In her
letters we can see her growing uneasiness with the more unsavory
aspects of urban living as well as her acceptance of her subordinate
role in society:
Luis, it would be criminal if I did not take a pen in hand and tell you
about my life. Luis, we are children of a fate that follows us. I am one
of those beings that was born predestined to be a toy of evil fortune.
I inhabit this world and live a miserable life without nding anyone
that can understand my ideas and beliefs. Since I was a child I have
looked for happiness and did not nd it in my parents and in my
friends. As a woman I looked for a man to make me happy and I have
only found those that would take advantage of me. Remember that
I love you with all my soul the way you love someone only once in
your life. Aware of how human nature is I have abandoned you and
have resigned myself to suffer with the hope that one day you will
remember me. I believe that you have good sentiments and remem-
ber about past judgments so dont insult me; I dont deserve it since
my only fault is loving you. You remember what was the cause of our
problems. But dont believe that I am trying to evade blame since
you are always able to see reasonably. You are such a good person
despite my sins that were the cause of our ght.38

Black Monday
By the fall of 1890 Yzaguirre had silenced Rodrguez and terrorized
Ontiveros through a ruthlessly calculated campaign of intimidation
and violence. Ontiveros repeatedly worried about Yzaguirre and
expected the worst. On October 12 she suffered another blow when
Refugio Pulido fell ill. Ontiveros went to visit her and promised to
return the next day, which she did, arriving sometime during the
morning then leaving around 2:00 p.m., promising to return again
later in the afternoon. Apparently, she had an appointment to keep
with Yzaguirre.39
Meanwhile, Yzaguirre had begun the week by reporting to work
as scheduled. Sometime late in the morning, however, he left with
a coworker, Carlos Sheridan, who had an appointment for a tooth
extraction. Yzaguirre accompanied his friend to the appointment.
Once the dentist had taken Sheridans tooth out, both men left for
a cantina to get some water, since Sheridan was bleeding from the
operation. Before they got there, though, they ran into a friend, Manuel
Esquerro, by the cathedral on the Zcalo. Esquerro, a paymaster with
the military police, was a close friend of Yzaguirres and saw him every
day on ofcial business. Esquerro recommended alcohol instead of
water, so the trio proceeded down Cinco de Mayo Street to a cantina
called Nueva Orleans, located below the popular Hotel Comonfort.
Once there, each man drank several glasses of brandy. This meander-
ing soon continued at another watering hole near the Alameda, El
Aseo, one of Yzaguirres favorite cantinas. There, each man drank
three glasses of tequila.40
Yzaguirre and his friends valued their time in cantinas and did not
believe that visiting them made them drunks. They considered can-
tinas to be social sanctuaries where moral constraints were loosened
and masculine bonds could be reinforced and strengthened. Whether
the trios drinking accomplished any of these goals is unknown, but
by about 1:00 p.m. Yzaguirre was very drunk. Soon thereafter, the trio
left the bar and parted ways, Esquerro returning to his job. However,
Sheridan noticed that Yzaguirre, too inebriated to return to work, was
practically stumbling along the street, insulting passersby. Sheridan
decided to take his friend to a fonda, or small restaurant, on the cor-

ner of Cinco de Mayo and Santa Clara streets. The two men ate, but
they also drank a good amount of pulque, a common beverage with
the afternoon comida corrida. Sheridan noticed that Yzaguirre was in
good spirits (in more ways than one), and they both left at around
3:00 p.m., Sheridan returning to work but not Yzaguirre, who hired
a coach and left for his home.41
It remains unclear whether Yzaguirre began the day with the inten-
tion of settling the issue with Ontiveros, but by midafternoon he clearly
intended to end the matter once and for all. He set out to nd her in
a rented coach, arriving rst at his home, where he asked the door-
man to get his gun. After his arrest Yzaguirre told police that since
he worked for the National Treasury, it was customary for him to be
armed. He also added that he was afraid of a confrontation with Carlos
Rodrguez and thus had to be ready to defend himself. Yzaguirres
rationale would not serve him during his subsequent trial, since the jury
believed that his crime had been premeditated. Certainly, his path after
leaving his home indicated so. After arming himself Yzaguirre ordered
the coachman to proceed to Calle de Jess, where he failed to nd
Ontiveros, and then to the corner of Don Juan Manuel and Monterilla
streets, where he waited, eventually opening the coachs door; Piedad
Ontiveros had arrived and promptly boarded the coach.42
Yzaguirre and Ontiveros then went for a coach ride on Paseo de la
Reforma, one of the main thoroughfares, where Porrians went to
see and be seen. As was customary, the coachman took them up and
down the Paseo twice before Yzaguirre ordered him to proceed to
San Jeronimo Street, specically, to Refugio Pulidos house. Upon
arriving there Yzaguirre asked the driver to bring Pulido to the coach.
The driver complied, but instead of the matron, the driver returned
with Cleotilde Avila, Pulidos friend and a resident of the house. Avila
informed Yzaguirre that Pulido was ill and could not speak to him. At
this point Ontiveros tried to exit the coach and enter the house, but
Yzaguirre prevented her from doing so, saying that he did not want
her to enter places like the house of assignation. He then began argu-
ing with her, demanding that she leave Rodrguez and live with him
instead. She refused, and he became enraged. He then ordered the

driver to leave; as they rounded the corner, he took out his pistol and
red ve shots at Ontiveros at point-blank range.43
Inuenced by alcohol and hiding a deep rage, Yzaguirre had decided
to force a resolution to his ongoing battle with Ontiveros, Rodrguez,
and the entire notion of sexual impropriety. The nal spark came
when Ontiveros attempted to leave him and enter the Pulido house,
a place that signied, for Yzaguirre, his own anxieties about sexual
immorality. Whether the young clerk reacted with satisfaction or panic
after shooting his lover remains unclear. However, after his shoot-
ing her the coach continued to move, except that the gunshots had
attracted scores of passerby, including a police ofcer posted on an
adjacent street corner. As the coach passed his position, the ofcer,
Pedro Ruiz, managed a look inside and saw a woman grimacing and
writhing in pain. After some difculty he managed to stop the coach;
along with another ofcer, Jos Mara Carmillo, he looked inside and
saw tragedy. Ontiveros, her left arm and chest covered with blood,
was crying, Im dying, while Yzaguirre sat silent. Ofcer Ruiz asked
the woman who had wounded her, and she motioned with her eyes
toward Yzaguirre. Ruiz spotted the gun, a Smith .38 caliber double-
action revolver, lying beside the girl and detained Yzaguirre, ordering
the other ofcer to arrest the driver. The ofcers then commandeered
the coach and took all three to District Five police headquarters, where
they could give full statements and where a doctor could be found.
With some difculty they lowered Ontiveros from the coach and took
her to the medical section. The attending physician, Doctor Salvador
Alvarado, treated Ontiveross wounds. At the same time Ontiveross
mother, notied by a friend, arrived at the station. Given the sever-
ity of the wounds, Alvarado ordered Ontiveros transferred to Jurez
Hospital, where, after a brief farewell to her mother, Piedad Ontiveros
died at approximately 7:00 p.m.44
As an evening chill descended, news of the murder quickly spread.
Carlos Rodrguez had been unaware of the shooting until one of
Ontiveross brothers went to his ofce and told him. Rodrguez left
his ofce and went to locate Ontiveross personal physician but, unable
to nd him, went instead to fetch his friend Juan Domnguez, an
apothecary. When he nally arrived at the station, though, he was
told that Ontiveros had been taken to the hospital, where she had
passed away. Rodrguez left and began to make arrangements for
her burial.45
The Day of Reckoning

Given the overwhelming evidence against him, prosecutors encoun-
tered no problems bringing Luis Yzaguirre to trial in March 1891 on
charges of premeditated murder. In addition to charging Yzaguirre
with the murder, prosecutors also charged the coach driver, Sabino
Domnguez, as an accomplice. Police initially believed that Domnguez
had helped Yzaguirre ee the scene of the crime. Domnguez, how-
ever, was only guilty of being in the wrong place at the wrong time;
hence he was released two months after his arrest, but not before
probably spending time in Beln, as was customary for someone in
his social position. No doubt the coachman would be extra careful
about what fare he picked up in the future.46
Porrian bureaucracy worked to keep Yzaguirre and his attorneys
talking to the government for most of the spring of 1891. Yzaguirres
attorneys, the ever resourceful Guillermo Prieto and the well-known
Jos Mara Pavn, kept arguing that Yzaguirre had not intentionally
shot his lover; rather, his gun had accidentally gone off, probably from
the jostling movement of the coach driven by the hapless Domnguez.
However, the justice system would not be denied. In June 1891 the
case nally went before the jury. The government called eighteen
witnesses to testify, including all of the persons both Yzaguirre and
Ontiveros had spoken to on that fateful day. But the most damaging
testimony would come from beyond the grave, in the form of the let-
ters written by Piedad Ontiveros, who had predicted her own death
at the hands of Yzaguirre.47
At rst Yzaguirre denied having written any letters to Ontiveros,
insisting that she had repeatedly written him. By trying to portray
Ontiveros as the person most responsible for the affair, Yzaguirre
attempted to seize the higher moral ground. However, Yzaguirres
argument was undercut by his own questionable behavior in the hours
before he shot Ontiverosnamely, his heavy drinking. Clearly fear-
ing for his life, Yzaguirre claimed that alcohol had been a motivating
factor on that day, impairing his judgment. Prodded by the prosecu-
tion, Yzaguirre also admitted to drinking heavily on at least one other
occasion, when he confronted Ontiveros at her home. By blaming
alcohol Yzaguirre tried to prove that he had fallen under the inuence
of a substance that allegedly threatened Porrian morals. Article 24
of the Mexican Penal Code clearly stated that drunkenness could be a
mitigating factor in a homicide, but the person could not be a known
drunk. Mexicans accused of murder commonly used this defense.
Yzaguirre hoped to use this argument, since he was a member of
the middle class and thus could never be accused of being a drunk.
However, there was other evidence that would ultimately convict him
in the minds of the jurors, evidence in the form of the love letters
exchanged between himself and Ontiveros.48
Police were not aware of the existence of the love letters until they
interviewed Carlos Rodrguez, who had several pieces of the damning
correspondence in his possession. They were then able to determine
that Yzaguirre had stashed other letters in his house. Miguel Cabrera,
second-in-command of the Comisiones de Seguridad, Mexico Citys
secret police force, along with two other agents, escorted Yzaguirre
to his lodging, where he retrieved a box containing several letters.
Prosecutor Antonio Ramos Pedrueza made good use of the new infor-
mation, arguing that they proved Yzaguirre guilty, since they implied
that he would eventually kill Ontiveros. Convinced, the eleven-mem-
ber jury found Luis Yzaguirre guilty of murder on June 5, 1891. Judge
Salvador Medina y Ornelas immediately pronounced the death sen-
tence. Subsequently, Prieto and Pavn launched an appeal on June 22,
but on November 5 of the same year, the Supreme Court conrmed
the death sentence.49
The defense, however, used one last trump card: they appealed
the case directly to President Porrio Daz. Ordinarily, death sen-
tences were reserved for soldiers who killed senior ofcers or for
hardened criminals. But there was no set pattern. Daz, for exam-
ple, had commuted the death sentence for Francisco Guerrero. Most
probably, a successful stay of execution and a commutation to prison
time depended on the strength of the appeal and the publicity of the
case. President Daz wanted to appear generous, and converting a
prisoners death sentence to twenty years in the island prison of San
Juan de Ula did convey that sense. Therefore, on June 10, 1892, Daz
commuted the sentence. The former clerk would spend twenty years
in Veracruz harbor. Yet the thought of such a long sentence in the tor-
rid prison must have chilled Yzaguirre to the bone; before the month
was out he found himself on a train bound for his new home in the
company of three other criminals, including the terror of Peralvillo,
Francisco Guerrero. The middle-class Porrian, who hated the very
scent of prostitution and had killed a woman because of it, was now
in the company of a man who thrived on the imputed immorality of
the underworld. Doubtless Yzaguirre felt a certain fear as the train
left the valley for the torrid lowlands of the coast. Fate, as one would
have it, was not without a sense of irony.50
Refashioning Piedad
Six days after Ontiveross murder, the Mexico City Catholic news-
paper La Patria commented on the crime, saying that it did not want
to report on the sensationalistic episode, but since the entire city
was talking about it, it had no choice. Interestingly, the newspaper
chose to focus not on the alleged sexual affair, but on the memory of
Ontiveros, commenting on her delicate beauty and sweet soul
but also stating that as a woman she had been born to love and
obey. In publishing these words the newspaper not only conrmed
Porrian attitudes about women, but also deleted any uncomfortable
commentary about her sexual dalliances, a topic that would have con-
tradicted elite morals. What La Patria neglected to mention was that
Piedad Ontiveros had her own voice and that she had participated
in an affair that braved moral boundaries and traversed the imag-
ined sexual underworld of Mexico City. In doing so she imperiled the
Porrian project that sought to label the urban poor as criminal, for
as a member of the educated middle class she had participated in the
same world that the elite both invented and condemned.51
For Yzaguirre the lure of the underworld had proved equally damn-
ing. Despite his ever-increasing anxiety about his illicit meetings with
Ontiveros, Yzaguirre had fully participated in the sexual underworld
that elites condemned. Yearning to conform to elite-dened morals
and behaviors, Yzaguirre instead had committed acts that ultimately
sent him to prison. Yet in the end he was a member of the Porrian
middle-class, and unlike Francisco Guerrero, he did not nd him-
self the target of elite condemnation. Rather, he and his lover were
recast as victims.
Overall, the case of Luis and Piedad provides us with a powerful
discourse on the dangers of the imagined underworld that was not
produced by government prosecutors but by the human actors who
shaped the incident. Through this case we can examine what mid-
dle-class Porrians felt about the alleged pernicious inuences of
drinking and illicit sexual relations. Porrian elites did have a hand,
however, in constructing the public memory of the case, elevating
both Yzaguirre and Ontiveros to higher ideals perhaps in an effort to
separate them from the masses. As the case wound down, observers
must have also wondered about the other major event of late 1890:
the Francisco Guerrero case. If the story of Luis and Piedad troubled
some, the grisly murders perpetuated by El Chalequero brought about
a quiet reassurance that the barrier between the gente decente and
the gente del pueblo, even if breached, was always repaired. Perhaps,
Porrians reasoned, the dividing line between order and progress on
the one hand and criminality on the other was strong enough. If they
thought so, however, they were sorely mistaken, for soon events in
the heart of the modern city would demonstrate otherwise.

4
Organized Crime and the Porrian State
A plague of thieves has descended on the city. The police, reportedly,

have declared war on the thieves but the results have been lacking.
La Federacon, February 12, 1889
the year 1 8 9 0 ma rk e d a crucial time in the development of

the Porrian regime. Political forces conspired, if we are to lend a
Machiavellian tint to the proceedings, to change the constitution to
allow Porrio Daz to be reelected continuously. Thus, in the same
year that Francisco Guerrero went to trial and Piedad Ontiveros met
her fate, the Daz government assumed the mantle of unrestricted
powernot that the previous decade had been exactly devoid of
political maneuverings. Yet 1890 would also prove to be signicant
since it marked the increased professionalization of Mexico Citys
police forces. This last development was important, because secu-
rity became an increasingly important issue in the capital, thanks
in large part to what the Porrian elite perceived to be a ood of
poor Mexicans into the citys peripheral colonias. The government
viewed this phenomenon with increasing alarm, since the new ur-
ban population did not remain in the marginal city but instead ap-
propriated the ideal city, wandering into wealthier districts with the
alleged propensity to commit all sorts of criminal offenses. In par-
ticular Mexico Citys leadership worried about the central business
district and its mix of government ofces, wealthy businesses, and
fashionable hotels. If the government had a face it wanted to show
the world, it was that of the downtown area, especially the streets
marked by the San FranciscoPlateros axis. Along this busy zone
middle- and upper-class Porrians practiced the new art of con-
sumption and displayed their wealth. It was, in essence, the heart
of modernity for an increasingly modern country.1
The way in which to protect this measure of progress became a
paramount concern for concerned Porrians. In response to the per-
ceived threat posed by the underclass, the government positioned
police ofcers in strategic and prominent locations throughout the
downtown sector. This practice, similar to the deployment of the
Rurales in sensitive areas of the republic, was intended to assure
investors and tourists as well as wealthy Mexicans that the govern-
ment valued order. Yet, while some elite critics worried about nui-
sances such as pickpockets, more ominous developments lay in store
for the city of Porrian dreams. In 1888 and 1891 two groups of well-
organized men robbed downtown merchants in what would prove to
be far from ordinary crimes. While the rst robbery in 1888 targeted
the home of a businessman, the second incident in 1891, far more
serious, led to the death of a downtown merchant. Moreover, both
cases provoked massive police manhunts. Ultimately, the Porrian
ideal city remained intact but shaken. The Brilanti incident and the
La Profesa robbery undermined the facade of public order and, most
importantly, brought the underworld to the ideological and social
center of Porrian modernity.
The Brilanti Robbery

Shortly after midnight on April 16, 1888, downtown merchant Jos
Mara Brilanti arrived at his residence on Cinco de Mayo Street num-
ber 3. Brilanti felt good after attending a local theater performance,
but any feelings of satisfaction were soon dispelled by the news that
greeted him. His doorman, Julin Meza, informed the businessman
that the house had been robbed. Fearing that there was still danger,
Brilanti immediately agged a police ofcer posted nearby. Other
98 Organized Crime and the Porrian State
ofcers soon converged on the scene. A quick investigation revealed
all the telltale signs of a robbery: small currency littered the oor, and
the strongbox had been emptied. Questioned by police, Meza said
that at approximately 9:00 p.m. a well-dressed man, wearing black
clothes and a black bowler hat, had called at the residence. When
Meza asked the stranger to state his business, the man replied that
he had come to deliver several important letters to Brilanti. Although
Meza told the stranger that Brilanti was away, the man, who looked
like gente decente in Mezas eyes, insisted on delivering the letters.
Meza opened the door to take the correspondence, but as soon as he
did, six or seven other men appeared and barged in, one of whom
threatened Meza with a knife. The men overpowered the doorman,
tied him up, and gagged him. They also roughed up Mezas wife,
Rafaela Monroy, and Mezas brother, Francisco. After locking them
in a room, the gang ransacked the house. After an hour and a half,
not seeing or hearing anyone, Meza struggled free and waited for
Brilanti to arrive.2
Given the fact that a merchants home had been robbed in the
downtown area, police detectives were called to the scene. As Brilanti
counted up his losses, investigators questioned Meza, asking him
to recall anything suspicious. Surprisingly, Meza told police that he
had recognized one of the men as Jess del Raso. Meza stated that a
few weeks back, del Raso had approached him, wanting information
on the internal layout of Brilantis house. Meza allegedly refused to
help, but the investigators were doubtful that the doorman was telling
the truth. Probing further, the police discovered two hundred pesos
in silver currency in Mezas room. Meza told investigators that the
money belonged to him, but some of the currency was stained with
blood. The investigators, suspicious of Meza, detained the doorman
as well as his wife and brother.3
Mezas possible involvement in the robbery did not surprise the
police investigators, who knew all too well that persons from Mezas
social background often lied to police and would ee the capital if
they feared arrest. Arresting him was a prudent precaution, but that
did not solve the case. Therefore, they proceeded to nd Jess del
Raso. Acting on additional information provided by Meza, detectives
Organized Crime and the Porrian State 99
swooped down on a run-down section of the capital and quickly found
and detained del Raso, along with two other men, Marcos Dvalos and
Teodoro Gonzlez, who were with del Raso at the time of the raid. A
quick search of del Rasos room turned up a cotton bag containing
992 pesos. Of course del Raso denied having stolen the money, telling
police that his aunt, Mara Luz, had given him the bag. Police next went
to Luzs house, found it locked, but were told by neighbors that Luz
had not been seen for several days. However, neighbors did remember
seeing del Raso, carrying a large bag, enter the house Sunday night,
accompanied by six other persons. Investigators determined Luzs
whereabouts and found her in an adjacent street, walking with her
husband, Jos Mara del Raso. Police searched and questioned the
couple, determining that Jess del Raso had been with his brother
Teodoro at another house on Calle del Progreso. Investigators went
there and found a certain Angela Loscano, who told police that the
house belonged to Mara Jess Medina, alias La Calavera, Teodoro
del Rasos girlfriend. The police found the house deserted and left
but posted a guard outside the hovel. Further investigation turned
up the name of Antonio Chumacero, a friend of Jess del Raso. It
was close to 6:00 p.m. when police nally located Chumacero at his
house on Calle de la Rana. The police, wise to the favored tactics of
thieves, turned up several oor tiles and found a bag containing 611
pesos. They immediately arrested Chumacero.4
In their rst investigative day, the Mexico City police had cast
a broad net around Jess del Raso. By asking the right questions
and turning up pressure on his relatives, ofcials had recovered
hundreds of pesos and had detained numerous individuals. They
had also uncovered an extensive theft ring that exposed the hidden
social structure of Mexico Citys urban poor. To the detectives work-
ing the case, del Raso and his associates were representative of the
poor underclass that inhabited the capitals slums and vecindades, a
population that was not to be trusted. Further, in their effort to root
out all aspects of the del Raso ring, police recorded detailed aspects
of this populations personal lives and habits. Thus the Brilanti case
gives us a privileged view of a world and a people at the center of
elite nightmares.
Dragnet
Mexico Citys police forces, aided by detectives, were very good at
rooting out suspects if the political will could be found. Since the
Brilanti robbery was a high-prole case, the government utilized an
extensive set of tools to nd the responsible parties. For instance,
early in their investigation, police realized that the robbery had been
planned weeks in advance. Taking no chances, ofcials instituted a
favored tactic: the police sweep. They arrested anyone who had been
remotely associated with del Raso, including Mara Ysabel Vilchis, a
prostitute who knew Medina, and Mara Josefa Aguilar, Chumaceros
landlady. Chumacero, eager to cooperate, revealed more names and
information. He confessed that on the day of the robbery, he had
hung out with several friends, including Rafael del Raso, Eduardo
del Raso, Teodoro del Raso, Manuel Castillo, and Jess Comonfort.
Chumacero said that Jess del Raso had brought a bag of money to
his house and had given it to his brother Rafael, who hid it under the
oor tiles. When police asked Chumacero for the whereabouts of the
other del Raso brothers, he told them that Rafael had a girlfriend, Luz
Gonzlez, who was also a prostitute, and gave the police her address.
On the morning of April 17 detectives went to Gonzlezs house but
did not locate her; instead they found Gonzlezs permit book, which
all legal prostitutes carried. The book identied Gonzlezs bordello.
Investigators went there next and found Eduardo and Rafael del Raso
as well as Gonzlez. All three were arrested, but only twenty-four
pesos were recovered, all conscated from Eduardo. No doubt the
del Raso brothers had spent a considerable amount of money already,
probably at the bordello.5
The Brilanti investigation next expanded to include personnel from
Districts Three and Four, with the citys detective squad in the inves-
tigative lead. By mounting a dragnet that not only targeted family
and friends, but also places like bordellos and run-down colonias,
Mexico City police met with initial success. Yet despite their tactics,
they were still not sure they had arrested the ringleaders. Further
questioning revealed no useful information. The police then tried
a different approach. They swept several poor colonias, detaining
anyone with even a remote connection to the del Raso brothers in

the hopes that this tactic would yield more information. Their hopes
paid off on April 23, when detectives and ofcers began arresting the
main ringleaders.6
Detectives learned that the alleged ringleaders had been hanging
out at a small eatery in an obscure part of the city. They identied
their targets: Mariano Albeitero, Luis Trujano, Santiago Robinson,
Rafael Martnez, Simn Gonzlez, and Miguel Martnez. When agents
descended on the restaurant, the gang was nowhere to be found.
However, a quick sweep of the surrounding colonia yielded some
addresses. Consequently, police rst raided the home of brothers
Rafael and Miguel Martnez. The police failed to locate them, but a
local snitch named Jarillo told the agents that the brothers had not
been seen for eight days. Agents moved on to the surrounding streets,
arresting individuals Jarillo had indicated knew something. In the pro-
cess they located Miguel Martnez and arrested him, but his brother
Rafael still eluded them. With more intelligence gathered by the lat-
est round of arrests and effective use of informants, another favored
tactic of the Mexico City police, detectives conducted sweeps for the
next few days and eventually managed to detain Albeitero, Trujano,
Robinson, and Gonzlez. Except for Rafael Martnez, the Brilanti
gang had been captured at last.7
Anatomy of the Underworld

As we have seen, Mexico City police responded with organized ef-
ciency to the robbery. By slowly expanding their arrest pattern and
detaining anyone even remotely associated with the crime, police
were able to arrest the main ringleaders. Moreover, the judicial le
also reveals a wealth of information concerning the motivation and
planning behind the robbery as well as the street tactics used by men
such as del Raso. Why had del Raso and his friends robbed a house
in the center of town? The answer went beyond greed: their poverty
appeared to be the strongest motivating factor. For instance, Jess
del Raso told police that his uncertain economic status had led him to
participate in the robbery. Del Raso, twenty-ve years old and a native
of Puebla, made his living selling papel tapiz, the decorative paper that
pulqueras used for ornamentation. Through casual conversation in
a pulquera, del Raso had found out that Meza, Brilantis doorman,
sold good paper at low prices. Raso approached Meza, who apparently
stole the paper from his employer, and the two struck a deal. Every six
to eight days del Raso would buy eight to ten pesos worth of paper.
Business was good, and after forty-ve days del Raso had purchased
two hundred pesos worth. Through the course of their dealings, del
Raso learned from Meza that Brilanti kept a staggering one hundred
thousand pesos in a strongbox inside his apartment. Jess del Raso
was not about to let this new opportunity slip by. While in Beln prison
previously for assault, del Raso had met Miguel Martnez, who later
introduced him to his brother Rafael. Del Raso promptly contacted
the Martnez brothers about the possibility of stealing the money.
The brothers agreed. Although del Raso told the police that he gave
it a second thought and later refused to participate, by all indications
del Raso seemed as eager as the Martnez brothers to get rich fast.
On April 10 the three men convened a meeting with comrades Simn
Gonzlez, Marano Albeitero, and Luis Trujano to plan the robbery.
The plan was simple. One man would watch the Brilanti house for a
few hours every night in order to determine movements in and around
the residence. The conspirators did not leave anything to chance.8
Del Rasos network of friends as well as his shady business deal-
ings indicated an intimate knowledge of the streets. In contrast to
the ideal city Porrian elites dreamed about, the urban poors real city
teemed with informal social networks and underground markets.
Opportunities for quick wealth could be found in the most unlikely
places, as exemplied by the gangs decision to include an American,
Santiago Robinson, in their plot. Robinson, an African American who
worked as a cleaner in the Circus Orrin, met with the group on April
12 and was quick to suggest an alternative: rob the circus instead.
Robinson claimed that the circuss safe contained at least one hundred
thousand pesos and that robbing it would be easy. In fact Robinson
assured his associates that he could get both the watchman and the
caretaker from the circus drunk. Persuaded, del Raso and associates
decided to try Robinsons plan rst. Perhaps they were unsure that
the Brilanti plan would succeed, or maybe they were impressed by
Robinsons knowledge of the circus. In any case they met Robinson
at the circus on Friday, April 13, ready to carry out the heist. Robinson
told them that he had already gotten the caretaker drunk and had
drugged the watchman with opium. However, the group panicked
when they saw a police ofcer walking near the location of the safe.
Confronted with this piece of bad luck, del Raso and his associates
retreated; on the following day all the men met and began to plan
the Brilanti robbery.9
At rst the group decided to rob Brilanti on the evening of April
14. Miguel and Rafael went to Cinco de Mayo Street and waited for
Jess del Raso to arrive with some tools for the break-in. However, for
some reason not stated in the judicial record, del Raso postponed the
robbery until the following evening. The next day the men reunited
in front of Brilantis house, those present including Jess del Raso,
Marano Albeitero, the Martnez brothers, Simn Gonzlez, Santiago
Robinson, Felipe Flores, and Luis Trujano. Jess del Raso feared that
the gang would look suspicious to police if they were all seen together
on the street, so he told everyone except the Martnez brothers to go
eat at a nearby restaurant while he stayed behind with the brothers
to watch the house. The men already had the tools necessary to crack
open the safe, so it was only a matter of waiting for Brilanti to leave.
Although not stated in the case le, del Raso may have been aware
that Brilanti planned to attend a theater performance that evening.
Perhaps Meza had told him. In any case the men were taking a big
chance. The section of Cinco de Mayo where the merchant lived was
a heavily patrolled area, with ofcers posted on almost all the street
corners. As expected, del Raso and his accomplices spotted an of-
cer stationed outside the nearby Teatro Nacional, but the ofcial was
oblivious to the men. They decided to go ahead with the robbery.10
After reuniting the group waited outside. At around 8:00 p.m.
Brilanti left for the performance, apparently not noticing the men.
After waiting a short while, the group made their move. The Martnez
brothers were rst and approached the house. After gaining admit-
tance the brothers gave the all-clear signal, telling the men that Meza
was tied up. Del Raso, Albeitero, and Flores then went inside the
house. Rafael ordered his brother Miguel and Santiago Robinson to
stay and watch Meza and his family, while Luis Trujano remained at
the entrance and watched the street. Upstairs, the rest of the gang
proceeded to rob Brilanti.11
After opening the safe, the division of the loot presented the next
hurdle for the group. Rafael Martnez struck rst, grabbing seven
gold ounces as well as numerous bank bills. A ght immediately
broke out. Simn Gonzlez and several others pushed Rafael and
tried to take the money away. In the commotion the gold fell to the
oor. Everyone then dived down and tried to take as much as they
could, but del Raso ordered that the ounces would be divided later.
However, as one of the leaders, he angrily confronted Rafael Martnez
and demanded some of the bank bills, and Martnez complied. In the
end almost the entire contents of the strongbox were divided among
all the men, but the division was unequal. Del Raso, Albeitero, and the
Martnez brothers did well, each one taking a small sack full of pesos
fuertes, or silver pesos. Gonzlez allegedly went away with more than
ten thousand pesos, while the rest of the groupRobinson, Trujano,
and Floresreportedly did not do as well, each one taking less than
one hundred pesos each, although Robinson would later claim he
received only four pesos. In fact the amount each man obtained was
never precisely determined, since after their arrest each of the plot-
ters claimed he had gotten away with little. Since prison sentences
were determined based on the amount of money stolen, it was in the
best interest of each man to minimize his gain. This fact would gure
prominently later in the trial. In the meanwhile, though, time was of
the essence. After leaving the house the group dispersed but prom-
ised to meet at del Rasos house, where the gold ounces and some of
the money would be divided.12
Not surprisingly, Rafael Martnez, who took a large portion of the
money, did not show up. In fact only Trujano, del Raso, Albeitero,
Gonzlez, and Miguel Martnez were present. Each man received
seventy-ve pesos in silver coinage and a share of the gold ounces.
Of course the men were upset that Rafael Martnez had apparently
cheated them out of some of the loot. Records do not indicate whether
the men directed their ire at Miguel Martnez, but to some, especially
Gonzlez, the missing conspirator appeared to be a man of bad faith.
Thieves, after all, did possess some honor. Despite this turn of events,
Jess del Raso proudly told the others that he and Marano Albeitero
were going to the Tivoli del Eliseo, the capitals famous nightspot, to
spend some of their money. Del Raso promised to divide some of the
remaining loot later, perhaps with the missing members of the gang.
He told the men to meet him in a prearranged spot in Chapultepec
Forest the next day, a rendezvous that the conspirators had planned
days in advance in case of trouble. However, on that day only Gonzlez,
Robinson, and Trujano showed up. Robinson was drunk and angry at
the small amount of money he had received. Gonzlez, feeling sorry
for him, gave the American one hundred pesos and bade him farewell.
However, one thing was still unresolved: the whereabouts of Rafael
Martnez. Angry, Gonzlez vowed that in the days after the robbery
he had no desire other than to nd Rafael Martnez and shoot him
with a pistol he had just bought for that express purpose.13
The Mean Streets

Since, after their arrest, each of the men tried to assign as much
stolen wealth as possible to the others as well as to respective family
and friends, the police were able to follow an extensive trail of con-
tacts to recover the stolen money. For instance, Marano Albeitero
gave some of the money, about ten thousand pesos, to his mother to
guard. In the underworld it seemed the only person you could trust
was your mother. Luisa Martnez claimed she did not know what
was in the heavy bag her son gave her; however, she suspected that
something was up, since her son showed up with del Raso, a known
troublemaker. In her statement to police, Martnez mentioned that
her son told her to keep the bag safe because, in his words, it con-
tained future happiness for them. Needless to say, Luisa Martnezs
confession did not convince the police; they promptly hauled her off
to jail.14
Simn Gonzlez may have had similar intentions. After the rob-
bery Gonzlez paid a visit to his father, Pedro Gonzlez, who lived
in Tacubaya. He left ten thousand pesos and two ounces of gold with
the senior Gonzlez. Then he left and promptly went on a shopping
spree, buying the gun he intended to use on Rafael Martnez, a horse,
a watch, assorted items, and tickets to several cockghts. Clearly,
Gonzlez intended to live it up. Perhaps aware of his social respon-
sibility, he gave his wife twenty pesos and told her that he intended to
buy her a house in Celaya. He then put her on a train for Quertaro. Of
course he did not live up to his promise. On April 26 police detained
Gonzlez after questioning his father, who worked in a pulquera.
The senior Gonzlez told investigators that his son did not live with
him anymore but had stayed with him for a week, arriving on April
16 and departing shortly afterward, leaving behind a small box that
contained money. This the police conscated. He added that his son
had a bite mark on one of his hands, apparently the result of his hav-
ing been bitten by Julin Mezas wife. The police then demanded
that he turn over the rest of the money or they would arrest the entire
family. Terried, the elder Gonzlez complied, but they arrested him
anyway, along with two of his sons who also had some knowledge
of what their sibling had done. Don Porrios police were denitely
not in a charitable mood.15
As for Simn Gonzlez, police eventually arrested him after some
brilliant detective work. Thorough interrogations revealed that Simn
was planning on traveling to Celaya to meet his wife. Detectives decided
to beat him to it. They traveled to the Bajio rst and there located and
detained Gonzlezs wife, Mara Carmen Miranda. In interviewing her
police learned the exact time and date that her husband would arrive.
They set up surveillance at the train station, and right on time Simn
Gonzlez stepped off the train, but instead of his wife he met the wait-
ing arms of the Mexico City police. On his person detectives found a
loaded Smith .44 revolver. Agents then escorted Gonzlez to his wife,
where they allowed the two to reunite before they shipped them to
Beln. When asked why he had helped commit the robbery, Gonzlez
simply replied that he had done it out of economic necessity.16
The other men gave similar stories or claimed they had spent much
of the money. Since many had unwittingly involved their relatives in
the robbery, investigators had to sort through conicting claims in
the effort to follow the money trail, efforts complicated, or eased, by
apparent stupidity and greed. For instance, Albeiteros mother, Luisa
Martnez, had correctly guessed that her son had stolen the money.
She was so afraid of being caught that she gave some of the money
to her daughter Concepcon, who in turn stashed it with a friend,
Cecilia N. The police arrested Concepcon. Martnez also confessed
that she hid the other portion in a pot she gave to a friend, Patricia
Vega. Apparently, Vega stole some of the money herself, for when
Martnez went back, it was a different kind of pot and some of the loot
was missing, including some gold pieces. Vega of course denied she
had stolen any money or had even been aware where it came from.
Detectives, frustrated, asked del Raso and Albeitero to clear up the
issue. Del Raso conrmed that Martnez had some of the gold. He
added that he did not originally come away with that much gold, but he
had traded pesos for the easily traceable gold pieces. Police, satised,
arrested Vega, who joined her friend Luisa Martnez in Beln.17
Jess del Raso also involved some family. After dropping off some
of the stolen treasure with Albeiteros mother, del Raso went by his
sister Dolores Reyeros house. He gave her some money for safekeep-
ing, but this did not make Doloress husband happy. Nicols Reyero
was so upset that he sent his son Nicols, with the money, to notify a
friend who was a police ofcer. Unfortunately, the younger Reyero was
detained by police and charged as an accomplice. The elder Reyero
emphasized that he was an honest and hard worker and that his wife
did not take any of the money. Police arrested them anyway, charging
them with being accessories.18
When police investigated the backgrounds of each of the ringlead-
ers, they found that they were dealing with a group of people who had
prior experience with breaking the law. For example, Miguel Martnez
had been arrested before for robbery and assault, while both Jess
del Raso and Marano Albeitero had four arrests between them, all
for assault. Luis Trujano also had a previous arrest for robbery, but
the charges had never led to jail time. Felipe Flores, Simn Gonzlez,
and Marano Albeitero had no previous records. As for the wily Rafael
Martnez, there were no previous arrests, but this probably did not
mean the duplicitous man was an angel. Detectives, however, had
to wait a long time to question Martnez. In 1893, working on a tip,
they nally caught up with the elusive Martnez brother in Puebla.
Although the records do not mention the possibility, in all likelihood
Martnez had spent every last peso of Brilantis money.19
When the gang went to trial in late summer 1888, it was a fore-
gone conclusion that they would be found guilty. In fact they had all
admitted to being participants in the crime and had even implicated
Julin Meza, telling the jury that Meza had known about the robbery
days in advance and had put up little resistance. Meza emphatically
denied the charges, but he was doomed. During the trial the prosecu-
tion demonized the defendants, indicating that murders were usually
committed out of passion and thus could possibly be forgiven, but
robbery was premeditated and therefore deserved harsh punishment.20
Court coverage also portrayed the defendants as natural criminals.
As Robert Bufngton has noted, Porrian criminologists routinely
used head measurements and racial characteristics to classify prison-
ers. Santiago Robinson, who was of African descent, was labeled as
repulsive due to his African heritage, while his companions physiog-
nomy, according to press coverage, indicated an inherent criminality,
perhaps associated with an indigenous background.21
During the trial important information surfaced that highlight-
ed popular perceptions of the police among the general populace.
Through their attorneys, several of the men accused the police of tor-
ture. Jess del Raso, for example, stated that three agents had hung
him up by his ngers for one hour and red two gunshots at him,
deliberately missing him. Albeitero, Trujano, and Miguel Martnez
backed up del Rasos statement. Flores also accused the police of
torture, stating that when he was interrogated, one of the ofcers
had hit him with the butt of a pistol. Yet the experience of torture had
not fazed the street-smart Miguel Martnez. When prosecutors asked
him to recount his part in the robbery, Martnez told the jury that he
had initially been in charge of distracting the nearest police ofcer on
Cinco de Mayo Street with a cantada. When the prosecutor asked
him to clarify the statement, Martnez laughingly responded with a
brief lesson on Mexico City street lore. A cantada, Martnez told
the prosecutor, referred to when one distracted a police ofcer with
alcohol and stories of wild women. Criminals, it seemed, found the
ploy a very effective technique.22
Martnezs lesson illustrates the tactics used by ordinary Mexicans
to resist, however subtly, the power of the state. By accusing the police
of torture, prisoners tried to shift some of the blame off themselves
and perhaps have the offending ofcers detained. Martnezs use of
other weapons of the weak also helps us understand that the urban
poor were not without their own defenses. However, in this case the
gangs tactics did not sit well with the jury. They found Jess del
Raso, Marano Albeitero, Felipe Flores, Luis Trujano, Simn Gonzlez,
Miguel Martnez, Santiago Robinson, and Julin Meza guilty of rob-
bery. The jury also found several other persons, including Nicols
Reyero, Rafael del Raso, and Eduardo del Raso, guilty of helping the
conspirators, but these individuals received relatively light sentences.
The gangs other relatives and friends were released. In his sentencing
Judge Pablo Gonzlez Montes issued harsh sentences for all the men
who had participated in the robbery. According to the penal code, the
robbery of a house was punishable by ve years in prison, and if the
value of the objects exceeded 5,800 pesos, an additional six years in
prison were added to the sentence. A further penalty called for one
more year if two or more persons had participated in the robbery,
which was automatically classied as a conspiracy. If a weapon was
involved, four months would be added. However, the penal code called
for sentences of no more than twelve years. Given the fact that each of
the group would have received a sentence of twelve years or more, the
judge adjusted the sentences. Jess del Raso received ten years, while
Julin Meza received ten years and six monthsthe harshest sentenc-
es. As for the rest of the gang, Marano Albeitero, Felipe Flores, Luis
Trujano, Miguel Martnez, Santiago Robinson, and Simn Gonzlez
each received nine years. In 1894 Rafael Martnez went to trial and
was quickly found guilty, receiving eight years in prison. It would be
1896 before the rst of the men would be released, plenty of time to
mull over exactly what went wrong that week in April 1888.23
The Brilanti case offers a window not only into organized crime,
but also into the social world of the urban poor. The Brilanti gang, in
their efforts to plan their heist and elude the police, utilized a valu-
able network of family and friends. Careful planning, rendezvous
sites, and street tactics were part of their arsenal. Moreover, the rela-
tive sophistication of the conspirators placed them a step above the
day-to-day criminality of the poor colonias. Brilantis home, locat-
ed in a modern section of the capital, called for a modern crime.
Yet the police response was also efcient. Mexico Citys gendarmera,
or police force, employed a variety of responses, including threats
against relatives, neighborhood dragnets, informants, and torture
to gain the upper hand.
Further, the polices effective response suggests that the Porrian
state, far from being weak, maintained a very strong presence in the
capital. Clearly, the Daz government took a special interest in securing
one of the most politically sensitive sections of Mexico City. In February
1891 the governments resolve would again be tested with the murder
of a jeweler, don Toms Hernndez Aguirre, in a case remembered
as the La Profesa Jewelry Store Robbery. And once again, the Mexico
City police would confront the threats of the alleged underworld in
the heart of their ideal city.
Murder on Plateros
The La Profesa Jewelry Store Robbery is one of Mexico Citys most
famous crimes. Even decades after the 1910 Revolution, memory and
history still remembered the fateful event and the lives and destinies
of those involved. Perhaps more importantly, the case may have con-
tributed to the perception that crime was ooding the capital during
the late nineteenth century. The conviction of Francisco Guerrero had
reinforced Porrian ideals that the poor were beyond redemption:
there was obvious relief that Guerrero had murdered only prostitutes
and poor women. But had not the government warned that respectable
youth were in danger from the underworld? Did not educated wom-
en also meet untimely ends, such as the beautiful Piedad Ontiveros?
Perhaps these questions weighed on the minds of the Porrian elite.
If so their fears were realized one chilly February morning in 1891.
On the evening of February 20 at approximately 8:00 p.m., ofcer
Lorenzo Esteves found himself patrolling the corner of San Francisco
and Plateros, the very heart of the Porrian ideal city. Suddenly, the
watchman from the nearby La Esmeralda Jewelry Store approached
and told him that the door to the jewelry store situated on number 6
San Francisco Street was open and the interior lights were off. Esteves
approached the open door, called inside several times, and then alert-
ed his supervisor, who was posted in the vicinity. As Esteves and his
superior talked outside the darkened store, two women, Manuela
Hernndez and Soa Muoz, arrived and told the ofcers that they
were relatives of don Toms Hernndez Aguirre, the stores owner.
With the women following and wondering what had happened, the
two ofcers entered the store, Estevess lantern pointing the way. On
the rst oor the four came across smashed glass display cases, sure
signs of a robbery. In the rear of the shop, however, they discovered
the bound, lifeless, and bloodstained body of seventy-three-year-old
don Toms.24
As the shocked women began to cry, more ofcers arrived and a
curious crowd gathered outside. To preserve the crime scene, police
cordoned off the entrance to the store. Inside, ofcers took statements
from the two women and began their investigation. Police rst noted
that next to the body lay a knife and a handkerchief, both obviously
related to the murder. A physician attached to the police soon arrived
and made some preliminary observations, noting that Hernndezs
body had nine knife wounds, eight of which were located in the upper
torso and one in the abdomen. One of the knife wounds was situ-
ated below the neck, while two others had penetrated the rib cage.
As the examiner recorded the severity of the wounds, several ranking
police ofcials arrived, including General Luis Carballeda, inspector
general of the police; don Pedro Ocampo, chief of the Comisiones
de Seguridad; and Miguel Cabrera, his second-in-command. The
men immediately ordered ofcers to question the employees from
La Esmeralda. It would be a long night.25
The presence of several top ofcials at a crime scene was unusual,
but given the location of the crime the ofcials presence was certain-
ly justied. As we will see, the robbery was not an ordinary event; it
would have political implications. Accordingly, police rst questioned
Yldefonso Morales, the watchman for La Esmeralda. Morales told the
police that earlier in the evening he had noticed some suspicious per-
sons in the area but could not remember any details. Another employee,
Jos Concepcon Chavarria, had not seen anyone who looked suspi-
cious but did notice that the door to La Profesa was open and the inte-
rior was dark. He found this unusual, since the fastidious Hernndez
always placed the shutters over his storefront when he closed shop. He
reported this to Morales, who notied the police. Both men empha-
sized that they did not know of anyone who could have had the motive
to hurt Hernndez. In addition Manuela Hernndez noted that earlier
in the evening she had sent her daughter, Soa Muoz, to check on
don Toms but had grown concerned when Soa returned with the
news that her uncle was not in the shop. Hernndez promptly left
for the shop and ran to the police. When asked if don Toms had any
enemies, she said he did not but remembered that a few days before a
group of youths had stolen six rings from the store. She recalled that
four of the youths had walked into her brothers store and asked to
see some jewelry on display. As Hernndez retrieved the items from
a cabinet, one of the young men stole the rings. The others did not
buy anything, and only later did Hernndez realize he had fallen prey
to the standard distract-and-rob maneuver popular with thieves in
the central business district.26
Police now had their rst possible lead but felt that time was short,
since the thieves could well have been on their way out of Mexico City
by midnight. General Carballeda sensed the danger in waiting too
long and in fact felt personal embarrassment that the assault and
robbery had taken place in the heart of the capital. He had reason to
worry. Daz had rst named Carballeda head of the Mexico City police
force in 1877, shortly after the Tuxtepec Revolution, which brought
the caudillo to power. Carballeda had originally presided over a police
force that wore machetes as weapons, but Daz had other plans and
slowly modernized the organization. Carballeda left the post in 1880
to head the Rurales but returned in 1884 and would serve as inspec-
tor general until 1897. The Mexico City police force, in essence, was
Carballedas creation; therefore, he felt a sense of personal respon-
sibility to don Porrio.27
But Carballeda was worried. Although the PlaterosSan Francisco
district was the most heavily patrolled area in town and it was standard
to have ofcers posted on every corner, vigilance was lax. There were
several jewelry stores in the vicinity, the biggest being La Esmeralda,
which not only sold ne jewelry, but also furniture and other expensive
consumer goods. Carballeda noted that ofcers posted downtown
were easily distracted, especially at night when coaches passed by, full
of young women all decked out for the ritual of the paseo. Thus the
general communicated his desires to his subordinates Ocampo and
Cabrera as well as to the regular ofcers. They were to arrest anyone
who looked remotely suspicious. Surely on a Friday night, Carballeda
thought, this would not be difcult.28
The Usual Suspects

The Porrian regimes embrace of positivism during the 1890s inu-
enced the ofcial perception that the capitals urban underclass was
morally backward and degenerate. For the elite the customs of the
lower classesincluding rural dress, a belief in popular Catholicism,
and the alleged habit of spending the entire day wandering the city
and drinking pulquewere proof of their inability to adhere to any
semblance of elite modernity. Perhaps inuenced by elite ideas and
concepts, the Mexico City police consciously targeted individuals who
looked and dressed as Indians and who were in areas culturally off-
limits to indigenous Mexicans, such as the city center. The ofcial
perception that the poor were always up to no good was evidenced
by the rst arrest after the murder. Jacinto Cruz was standing on a
street corner in the downtown area watching the trafc, when he saw
a sweater fall from one of the passing cabs. Cruz had bent to pick it
up when the coach driver stopped, got out, and demanded the return
of the item. Cruz complied, since at that moment a police ofcer had
appeared on the scene. As Cruz handed the sweater back to the driver,
the ofcer arrested him, charging him with having robbed don Tomass
store. Cruz, who of course was innocent, was later released, but the
four youths who had previously robbed Hernndez were not to fare so
well. Detectives, perhaps working on information from informants,
managed to locate and detain Francisco Hinojosa, Miguel Necoechea,
Francisco Jarero, and Juan Snchez. The young men, ranging in age
from seventeen to twenty, admitted robbing Hernndez but denied
any involvement in his murder. Unfortunately for them, police quickly
tied them to another robbery, this time of a jewelry store located in
the Hotel Gillow. Investigators concluded that the young men had
not killed Hernndez but their crimes nevertheless merited impris-
onment, so they were escorted to Beln.29
On the day after the murder, investigators had managed to trace the
knife found in the shop to a store, Guerrero and Fangassi, located on
Refugio Street. An employee, Agustn Lpez, told police he had sold
the knife to two individuals on February 20. According to Lpez, two
men entered the shop and asked to see quality knives. As one stayed
back, Lpez demonstrated a knife to the other man and told him the
price. The man quickly paid, not even bothering to haggle, and left,
taking his companion with him. Lpez said that he had never seen
the men before and they had not been back since, but he did provide
police with a description of them. The clerk described the man who
bought the knife as being of regular build, wearing black pants and
jacket and a hat. Lpez could not remember the mans complexion,
but because of the way he was dressed, he assumed he was gente
decente. The other man was also of regular build, thin, and light
complexioned, with black eyes and a moustache. He sported a bowler
hat, a clear signier of middle-class origin.30
Police, even though they had a pair of descriptions, were still far
from solving the murder. Days passed. Chief Carballeda noted that
many persons in Mexico City t the descriptions that the clerk had
given, so unless the criminals turned themselves in, it was going to
take time to nd them. Even the standard police procedure of neigh-
borhood sweeps was not very effective, due mainly to the poor records
the precinct stations kept on known criminals. However, Carballeda
thought personal experience might help. He came to this conclusion
after being paid a visit by Luis Tagle, a private citizen and expolice
commander. Tagle mentioned that he was very interested in help-
ing the police catch Hernndezs murderers. The general welcomed
Tagles help, since it had been a week and even though more than a
dozen individuals were already detained, they were poor candidates.
The actual culprits, Carballeda thought, were intelligent and obviously
good at evading attention. Tagle then told Carballeda about an incident
the previous year. He recalled that one afternoon in September 1890
he had been walking on San Francisco Street near don Hernndezs
shop when he ran into two men who were known criminals with whom
he had unfortunately had past dealings. The men, Aurelio Caballero
and Vicente Reyero, had turned and insulted him. Since Tagle had to
be in Puebla as soon as possible, he did not do anything about it. In
December 1890 he again found Caballero in the downtown area, not
far from the Zocalo, standing on a street corner. Tagle remembered
that Caballero, who had been in jail before, had a habit of loitering
downtown. When Tagle nished his story, Carballeda was very inter-
ested and, sensing nothing to lose, personally signed the arrest war-
rant for Caballero.31
Carballeda, anxious to maintain the element of surprise, commis-
sioned Tagle and Tagles nephew, Ydelfonso Esquia, to carry out the
arrest. In this way, Carballeda hoped, word of the arrest warrant would
not be known to the regular ofcer corps or, possibly, to Caballeros
associates. Apparently, some police ofcers were not to be trusted.
Both men immediately went to look for Caballero and spotted him on
Calle de Jess, where they detained him. They also detained a friend
of Caballero, Gerardo Wesche, who quickly offered Tagle valuable
information. Wesche, a native of Puebla, said that he possibly knew
some of the persons who had committed the robbery. He told Tagle
that two months before, a friend, Francisco Labastida, had confessed
to him that Aurelio Caballero had approached him (Labastida) about
the possibility of robbing one of the jewelry stores in the center of
town. Wesche advised Labastida not to get involved. Labastida also
told Wesche that Caballero had approached several others, including
Carlos Sousa, Enrique Ramirez Arellano, and another man described as
tall, thin, dressed in ranch garb, and always accompanied by a woman.
Wesche added that after this incident he did not see Caballero again
until February 1891, when he ran into him and Sousa in a small eat-
ery on San Felipe Neri Street. Joining the men for pulque, Wesche
listened to Caballero tell him about some wounds he had received at
the hands of some unnamed police ofcial. However, Caballero did
not mention robbing a store. Wesche left after Caballero and Sousa
began to argue over a triing matter but not before nding out where
Caballero lived.32
Acting on Wesches tip, police tracked down and arrested Aurelio
Caballero. A native of Uruapan, Michoacn, Caballero denied any
knowledge of the robbery and to prove his point gave a detailed account
(perhaps too detailed) of his whereabouts the day of the incident.
According to Caballero, on Thursday, February 19, he went to sleep
in a pharmacy where a friend, Ignacio Aguirre, worked. Caballero
claimed to be homeless and said it was common for him to stay with
friends. Perhaps this was a ruse intended to throw off the police.
The Mexico City underclass was notoriously ambulant and evasive.
It was not unusual for poor residents, in an effort to combat police
persecution, to give vague and confusing answers, especially when
asked where they lived. In any case the next morning Caballero left
the pharmacy at about 9:00 or 9:30 and went to the vicinity of San
Lzaro to visit a friend who owed him eighteen pesos. He collected
the money and returned to Balbarrera Street, where he went to eat at
a restaurant. In the afternoon, around four, he went to a pulquera
near the Puente de Misericordia and saw the owner, Vicente Reyero.
Caballero stayed at the pulquera until a little before 5:00 in the after-
noon, when Antonio Herrerias passed by and took him to the Cafe
del Cazador, located in the Portal de Mercaderes, across from the
Zocalo. There, both Herrerias and Caballero stayed, drinking until
8:00 in the evening, when they left and went to Herreriass house. At
9:00 p.m. Caballero left for the Teatro Arbeu, where he hoped to nd
a friend. He did not go into the theater but stood outside. Not having
located his friend, Caballero retired to Reyeros pulquera, arriving
there at 9:30 p.m. and staying about fteen minutes, leaving with the
owners son, Nicols Reyero. It remains unclear whether this Reyero
was in any way related to the Nicols Reyero from the Brilanti rob-
bery. In any case Caballero and Reyero went to a shop and bought
some cigarettes and matches, and then they parted ways, Caballero
returning to the pharmacy to sleep.33
As Pablo Piccato has noted, city ofcials were constantly confronted
by urban dwellers who refused to conform to elite-held beliefs about
proper urban behavior. The judicial record for Caballero conrms this
view. Caballeros lack of a permanent xed address, meanderings
through the city streets, frequent stops to drink alcohol, and friend-
ships with individuals such as Reyero, whose family operated a pul-
quera (a classic source of elite angst), all demonstrate the presence
of an active street culture that could begiven a powerful catalyst
like a murdergrounds for imagining something more nefarious: a
massive underworld conspiracy that threatened to undermine order
and progress. As elites imagined the worst, they failed to note that
many of the urban poor wandered the streets in order to nd employ-
ment or food. However, there was a hint of truth in elite concerns.
Criminal ideas and friendships were sometimes born in places such
as Beln prison. For instance, Caballero met Gerardo Nevraumont,
one of the conspirators, inside Beln.34
Caballero, like his counterparts from the Brilanti robbery, may have
felt that risky and illegal activities were the only recourse to avoid des-
titution. Moreover, in a place such as Beln, friendships were key to
survival. The suspect told police that after taking care of some business
on the morning of February 20, he met with Herrerias and had lunch.
Both later went to the pulquera Del Negro, where they stayed until
5:30 in the afternoon and then went to sleep in Herreriass house.
Caballero told police that he did know Francisco Labastida, Carlos
Souza, and Gerardo Wesche but did not know if they had committed
the robbery and, further, did not know who actually had.35
The police were suspicious of Caballero, however. He t the pro-
le: single, an immigrant from the provinces, evasive, and known to
hang out in pulqueras and associate with shady characters. Tagle was
respected: he had intimate knowledge of the streets. Further, Wesches
information had been too precise, too full of details. Police may have
also wondered whether Caballeros own recollection as to where he
was on both days was suspicious. Who, after all, could remember so
much detail when he was drinking pulque all day? Perhaps Caballero
had rehearsed everything. Therefore police, armed with a list of new
suspects, issued a warrant for the men Wesche had mentioned.36
One of those warrants targeted Francisco Ernesto Labastida, a thir-
ty-seven-year-old native of Mexico City and a public scribe. Perhaps
Labastidas street-based profession had led to his friendship with
Caballero. After being picked up, Labastida told police that he had
run into Caballero, an old friend, in the streets sometime in mid-
November 1890. Caballero invited Labastida to meet him the next day
at 5:00 in the afternoon on a specied street corner, telling him there
was urgent business to discuss. The two met as scheduled and went
for a walk toward the corner of Vergara and Cinco de Mayo, where they
stopped for a moment and talked. Caballero enticingly told Labastida
of his plans for assaulting a jewelry store in front of the church known
as La Profesa and offered Labastida a role in the plot. According to
what Labastida remembered, the plan Caballero concocted involved
both mens entering the store on the pretext of buying some jewelry.
Labastida would then close and lock the door, while Caballero would
subdue the owner, who, added Caballero, was always alone. Caballero
also said that other individuals would assist in the heist. As they con-
tinued talking, Caballero pointed out to Labastida an individual who
was walking along Vergara and Cinco de Mayo. That person, Caballero
told him, was part of the team. Labastida described the man as tall,
with a black moustache, and wearing dark-colored clothes.37
Labastida saw Caballero twice in the next two months but always
briey. He did not discuss the plan again with his co-conspirator but
did so with Gerardo Wesche, who advised him not to take part in any
of Caballeros schemes. As for his whereabouts on the date of the
assault, Labastida said that on February 20 he awoke at 8:30 a.m., left
his house at nine, and went to nd his employer, Yldefonso Lpez,
at the Palace of Justice. Labastida loitered around the palace but did
not nd his boss, so he left for San Felipe Neri Street, where he met
some friends and had a few drinks in a cantina. He went home around
2:00 p.m. to eat and then left after an hour to go locate his laundry-
woman. Although he failed to nd her, he stayed to talk to her family.
After a conversation that allegedly lasted several hours, Labastida left
for another cantina, where he once again drank until 9:00 p.m. He
then retired to his house, where his wife, Mara de Jess Mateos, was
waiting for him. On February 21 he left around 10:00 a.m. to nd his
employer and, not nding him again, went to a barbershop, where
he stayed talking to friends until 1:30 p.m., leaving for his house
and staying there until 4:00 p.m. He left thereafter, went to collect
some money owed him, and afterward returned to the barbershop
and asked for a loan but was refused. Needing money, he returned
home and collected a few items to pawn. He concluded the evening
by visiting a sick friend. Of course Labastida denied any involvement
in Hernndezs murder.38
The social wanderings practiced by the likes of Labastida and
Caballero commonly appear in the judicial les for Porrian Mexico
City. Suspects, when confronted with torture and the possibility of
permanent arrest and jail time in the citys notoriously unhealthy
Beln prison, invariably gave detailed accounts of their whereabouts
in an effort to confuse authorities or escape the grip of the state.
For example, by recalling the several locations he had visited, sus-
pects like Labastida hoped the police would not be able to investi-
gate all of them. They also used vague language, such as referring to
friends, or said they had not found the person they were looking
for and elected to hang around, drinking and talking with strangers.
Since police knew that pulquera patrons were reluctant to talk to
tecolotes, and since pulque in any case dulled the senses, question-
ing pulquera patrons usually produced few results. But we should
also remember that criminal suspects knew the unwritten law of the
streets. Suspects counted on the reticence of potential witnesses to
identify and implicate known criminals. Fear and hatred of the police
(as well as fear of criminals) ruled the streets and hideouts of the
imagined underworld, and the average Mexico City working-class
resident knew this intimately.
Yet when faced with determined police investigators acting under
political pressure, even the smartest criminals failed, although it could
take years to apprehend them, as the police found out with Rafael
Martnez of Brilanti fame. The lure and attraction of urban life held
many traps for the average criminal, and police often knew exact-
ly where to search for a suspect. For instance, investigators usually
questioned pawnshop operators when tracing stolen goods. Further,
when caught, conspirators were sure to implicate others, hopeful their
cooperation would be viewed in a positive light. Aurelio Caballero fell
into this mold. After hearing Labastidas testimony, he quickly told
the police that it had been two others, Carlos Sousa and a Frenchman
named Nicols Treffel, who had originally come up with the plan
to rob the shop. These two, Caballero assured the police, were the
ones to talk to.39
The Plot
Caballero revealed an intimate and daring plan apparently rst hatched
by the Frenchman Treffel. At a meeting in November 1890, Treffel
rst told Sousa that he had an inside man who would help them rob
the store. Treffels plan called for gaining access to the store through
a back door, facilitated by the insider, whom the Frenchman did not
name. If that plan failed or proved difcult, the group would enter
through the front door as customers. They then planned to distract the
elderly owner and rob him. Treffel mentioned Jess Bruno Martnez
as another participant. Treffel had apparently met Martnez in prison.
After discussing further details, the men concluded their meeting.
Sousa, in his statement after his arrest, said that Labastida got
cold feet and dropped out in November 1890. However, Caballero
continued his involvement, and on an unspecied day late that year,
as he was eating at Reyeros shop, Sousa showed up, accompanied
by Gerardo Nevraumont. Caballero knew Nevraumont but had not
seen him in a long time. Sousa asked Caballero whether he minded
Nevraumonts participation in the robbery. Caballero was not opposed
to the idea.40
Sousas recollection differed from that of Caballero. Perhaps in an
effort to minimize his guilt, Sousa told police that he had also tried
to leave the gang in December 1890, having found steady employ-
ment. However, Sousa still remembered a series of meetings and
encounters between November 1890 and February 1891 in which he
would drink and eat with several of the conspirators in cantinas and
fondas. Sousa also emphasized that Treffel was brought in rather
late to the plan.
Contradictory statements were to be expected, given the magni-
tude of the crime. Investigators cross-referenced all the statements
and periodically brought in one prisoner to conrm or deny what
another had said. Recollections faded or lies were told to escape
guilt. No one wanted to go to prison. The entire incident became so
ingrained in the popular memory of the city that decades after the
robbery, newspapers still ran occasional stories about the incident,
glossing over facts but keeping the core of the story intact and truth-
ful. One thing was certain. On that Friday afternoon in 1891, ve men
had stood in front of the jewelry shop and entered into history. They
were Aurelio Caballero, Gerardo Nevraumont, Carlos Sousa, Jess
Bruno Martnez, and Nicols Treffel.
The men had periodically set up dates for the robbery but canceled
many times because the timing was wrong or one man was missing.
For instance, on February 19 Sousa met Nevraumont at around 11:00
a.m. at the Cantina Nochebuena. They went to eat at a fonda, where
they stayed until 2:30 p.m., when, at Nevraumonts insistence, they
went to case the jewelry store. When they were there, Nevraumont
was so satised with the situation that he wanted to rob it immedi-
ately. Sousa reminded Nevraumont of their obligations to the others.
Convinced, Nevraumont left with Sousa for a pulquera. There they
found Caballero, and all three left for the jewelry store. Nevraumont
entered the shop on the pretense of buying a watch but left after
observing the stores internal layout. When he exited, Nevraumont
was excited and felt that the time was right, but once again his friends
declined, pointing out their deal with the others. The trio left and
walked the downtown area until 6:30 p.m., when they met Martnez
and Treffel on the street in front of Hernndezs shop. For a moment
they contemplated going ahead with the robbery, but they changed
their plans when they saw the owner close the door and begin board-
ing up his shop. They postponed the assault for another day, each man
heading in a different direction, Sousa going to meet his girlfriend
Constancia Pea.41
The next day the conspirators met at the Portal de Mercaderes across
from the Zocalo and began once again to plan the assault. One of the
issues discussed, besides who would enter the store and who would
stay outside, was whether they would all be armed. Treffel insisted
that everyone should carry some sort of weapon, but Caballero dis-
agreed, saying that he did not believe it was necessary, since he did
not expect the old man to offer resistance. Treffel compromised; only
those who entered the shop would be armed. When the conference
ended, Nevraumont and Sousa left to buy a knife. Sousa later recalled
that he did not actually see Nevraumont buy the weapon, since he was
watching a girl pass by on the street, but when he turned to see his
friend, Nevraumont had already purchased the knife and was carrying
it inside a paper bundle, hidden between his vest and his shirt. They
retired to Sousas house, where they ate and then left for a pulquera
to look for Caballero.
At around 6:00 p.m. the men reunited with the others in front of
the cathedral on the Zocalo, next to the Monte de Piedad, the national
pawnshop. Despite their initial planning, the men began to argue as
to who would enter the store. Nevraumont proposed that he would
enter rst, followed by Martnez and then Treffel, while Sousa would
stay outside guarding the door. They cancelled the original plan that
called for entering through the back door when they learned that
their inside man, a handyman who helped Hernndez, was in jail on
a drunk-and-disorderly charge. As for Caballero, he would take up a
position near the store to watch for the ofcer who usually patrolled
the area.42
The operation went as planned. The ve men approached the
store at 6:30 in the evening. Hernndez had nished boarding up
the shop but was standing in the open doorway. Nevraumont went up
to Hernndez, started to talk to him about buying a watch, and then
both men went inside. Martnez followed and then Treffel, who closed
the door behind him. In the meanwhile Sousa positioned himself in
the doorway and Caballero went across the street, directly opposite
the store. After a few minutes Sousa struck up a conversation with
the watchman from the nearby jewelry store, while Caballero paced
the street. A few moments later, Treffel violently stormed out of the
store and demanded to know whether anything had happened. The
two said no, and Treffel returned inside. As Caballero and Sousa tried
to act calm, inside the store all hell had broken loose. Apparently,
Hernndez immediately suspected a trap when Martnez and Treffel
entered the store, dressed in common street clothes, unlike the well-
dressed Nevraumont. Hernndez drew a gun and pulled the trigger,
but the pistol misred. Nevraumont tackled the elderly man, knocked
him to the oor, and, with the help of Martnez, dragged him to his
bedroom, where the two men tied him up. However, the elderly man
had begun to breathe heavily. Nevraumont took charge of the situa-
tion, telling Treffel and Martnez to guard Hernndez while he went
to check on something in the showroom. There he stole a magnicent
diamond bracelet, although he later denied it. He then called for his
comrades to join him, and together they took everything they could
get their hands on, in the process smashing some of the display cases.
Martnez, meanwhile, returned to guard Hernndez. Alone with the
store owner, Martnez allegedly stabbed Hernndez several times. As
the elderly shopkeeper lay dying, the trio left the store the same way
they had entered and quickly disappeared down San Francisco Street.
The entire operation had lasted a total of fteen minutes, enough
time to shake the foundations of Porrian security.43
The conspirators had planned to divide the stolen treasure between
them, but rst they stopped at a cantina, where they each had a drink
to calm their nerves. They left shortly afterward, hiring a cab that took
them to Constancia Peas home, where the loot was to be divided.
Before boarding the coach, Treffel pulled Sousa aside and told him
that Martnez had killed Hernndez. Ya lo mataron caracho (They
killed him, man) were Treffels exact words. Sousa, still suffering the
effects of all the pulque he had drunk earlier in the day, turned pale
and nervous. He later told police that Martnez had in all likelihood
killed Hernndez, but he was not sure, pointing out that Nevraumont
may have also stabbed the elderly man.44
Shaken, Sousa and his friends soon arrived at Peas house, where
Sousa instructed Pea to light a candle and bring a deck of cards. At
rst Pea did not seem worried. She brought the cards and candle to
Sousa, but instead of talking to her, Sousa ordered her to go to her
bedroom and sleep. However, Peas curiosity got the better of her.
She peeked through a curtain window into the room where the men
were sitting and saw dozens of jewels and diamonds lying on a bed-
spread. Apparently, Treffel and associates had netted approximately
four to eight thousand pesos in diamonds, pearls, jewelry, and cash.
As Nevraumont took charge and divided up the treasure, Pea, upset,
closed the curtain in disgust. She knew that Sousa and his friends had
committed a major robbery. The next day her fears were conrmed
when she heard the news.45
While Pea was busy worrying over her fate as well as that of Sousa,
inside the room the men were busy dividing up the spoils. Nevraumont
weighed in, saying that a gold windup watch as well as a gun that
he had found were his. Nobody questioned his choice, but every-
one wondered what had happened to the magnicent necklace in
the shop window. Nevraumont, when asked, denied any knowledge
of the item, although of course he had hidden it inside his clothes.
As they divided the riches, no one talked about the robbery itself or
what had happened inside the store. After nishing, everyone left
except for Sousa, who sat and stared at the jewels that were his. His
eyes immediately teared up, and at that moment Pea came into the
room, so he told her what had happened. She wanted no part of it
and told Sousa that they should get rid of the jewels. Perhaps heed-
ing her advice, in the morning Sousa wrapped the jewels in a cloth on
the mantelpiece and took them to a friend, Manuel Guerrero, leaving
them with no explanation. The next day Guerrero summoned Sousa
and returned the jewels. He had heard of the robbery and did not want
to get involved. Undeterred, Sousa went to look for another friend,
Clemente Corona. Before he took the jewels to Corona, Sousa got rid
of a few that he somehow determined were fakes, tossing them into
a gutter, and then took the rest to Corona, who was naturally very
suspicious. Sousa assured him that the jewels came from a business
deal and had nothing to do with the robbery, which was now com-
mon news. Corona accepted the merchandise for safekeeping but
remained suspicious. To avoid implication he gave the jewels to his
mother-in-law for safekeeping but later retrieved them and returned
them to Sousa.46
The usual pattern of each thief s leaving stolen merchandise with
family and friends repeated itself with Aurelio Caballero, who also
wanted to get rid of the incriminating evidence. Caballero paid a visit to
his dear friend, Antonio Herrerias, but did not nd him. However, he
entered his friends house anyway and passed though several rooms,
out the back door, and into a corral. In the corner of the stable, he
buried his share of the merchandise under a pile of rocks and dirt.
The next day he returned to Herreriass house with the intention of
recovering the jewels. When he entered the stable, his jaw dropped as
he saw a certain Agustn Torres attending to the mules in the stable.
Further, since Herrerias and various other persons were there, he
could not retrieve the jewels. Anxious to recover the jewels, Caballero
managed to get an invitation to eat with Herrerias and his family.
Later in the day he sneaked into the stable and recovered the illegal
treasure, hiding it in a more secure place. To Caballeros credit, after
his arrest and that of Herrerias, he told police that his friend did not
know anything about the merchandise or the robbery. Police believed
him and eventually dropped charges against Herrerias.47
Threat to the State

The La Profesa Jewelry Store Robbery produced a scandal unseen
for quite awhile in Mexico City. Unlike the crimes committed by
Francisco Guerrero, the murder of Hernndez shocked the Porrian
elite. Concern even reached Daz himself, who pressed Carballeda for
daily updates.48 Don Porrio also put up a reward for the capture of the
thieves. Certainly, downtown merchants were upset. One business-
man, Jos Verastegui, wrote a letter to Daz expressing his concern
that robberies and murders were now becoming commonplace in
the most centric parts of the city. Daz wrote back acknowledging
his concern, but also assuring Verastegui that measures were being
taken to effect the arrest of the perpetrators.49
As a result of the uproar, the Porrian government responded effec-
tively to the crime, launching a thorough investigation. The case was
highly publicized, with descriptions of the conspirators sent to neigh-
boring states. By March 3 agents had apprehended Caballero, Treffel,
and Sousa; three days later police detained Martnez. Nevraumont
managed to elude authorities until March 14, 1892, when he was
arrested in Txpam, Veracruz, waiting for a steamship to take him
to Havana, Cuba. Nevraumont, who was using the alias Fernando
Montel, had booked passage on a steamer, the Orizaba, and was await-
ing the ships departure when local police arrested him. While in
the port, Nevraumont had busied himself with selling some of the
jewelry from the robbery. News of the robbery in Mexico City had
spread fast. More than likely, Nevraumonts activities had alerted
some of the locals.50
Before arriving in the steamy port of Txpam, Nevraumont had tried
to lose himself in the backlands of Veracruz and Puebla, an odyssey
recorded in detail in the judicial archives. Nevraumont had left Mexico
City the day after the robbery, traveling on the Interoceanic Railway
rst to Puebla, where he sold some jewels from the heist. Taking
the train again, he traveled to the hamlet of San Juan de los Llanos,
where he took a coach through the countryside, eventually arriving in
Cuetzalan, in Pueblas Sierra del Norte. There he journeyed to Papantla
and nally to Txpam. Since Nevraumont wanted to avoid surveil-
lance, he also did without the modern convenience of the railroad at
times, resorting at one point to traveling by horseback.51
The trial itself began in April of the same year and produced the
usual media and public frenzy, by now becoming characteristic of
criminal trials in Mexico City. So many people struggled to get into
the Palace of Justice that tickets had to be issued. Emotions ran deep.
During a regular transfer, the men were placed on the slow-moving,
mule-driven tram nicknamed El Diablo, which took prisoners to
Beln. It was not a pleasant ride; on several occasions the coach was
pelted with rocks. Apparently, the murder of the elderly Hernndez
had touched a raw nerve.52
In front of judge and jury, all ve conspirators faced overwhelming
evidence against them. Perhaps realizing his vulnerability, Martnez
blamed Nevraumont for the murder of Hernndez. As the only one
of the group who looked like an Indian, Martnez was painfully aware
of the possibility the judge would sentence him to death.53 As for
Treffel, he denied all participation in the crime. When asked to explain
his initial confession to Carballeda that he took part in the robbery,
Treffel said that he had confessed so that he could be taken out into
the streets to nd the jewels and that when the time was right he
planned to escape and hide in the German legation. That, he said,
was the reason he had confessed; he was not exactly involved in
the robbery, did not know anything about the jewels, and added that
he was being falsely accused.54
Throughout the trial allegations of torture surfaced. This was not
unusual. During the Brilanti robbery several of the conspirators had
also accused the police of torturing them. However, given the wide-
spread press coverage accompanying this trial, the allegations made
headlines. Everyone, it seemed, was talking about the so-called secret
police. Even theatergoers could not forget the allegations. At the Teatro
Principal, as audiences enjoyed the opera Tosca, they chuckled at the
scene where the hero was tortured by the Roman police chief. Some
even imagined Carballedas white whiskers superimposed on the
actors visage. Indeed, the trial was an attraction that even rivaled
the recent El Chalequero trial. Newspapers reported gleefully that
some of the accused had spent time in jail on previous charges, espe-
cially Nevraumont, who had once been charged with swindling. Of
course the jury found all the men guilty, as well as Sousas girlfriend,
Constancia Concha Pea. Judge Salvador Medina y Ormaechea sen-
tenced Caballero, Sousa, and Treffel to sixteen years hard labor in
San Juan de Ula. Pea found herself at the receiving end of a ve-
year sentence, to be carried out in the womens section in Beln.
As for Nevraumont and Martnez, the judge reserved the harshest
sentence for each one: death at the hands of a ring squad in Beln.
When Martnez heard his sentence, he reportedly lost all composure
and began to babble uncontrollably. Nevraumont did not meet the
ring squad. An appeal brought him a commuted sentence of nine-
teen years. He as well as Sousa and Caballero would die in prison,
however. Sousas death would be particularly ghastly. One night he
jumped into Veracruz harbor and became a sharks late-night snack.
Treffel fared better. He was released from prison and eventually set-
tled down in Puebla, where he became a successful businessman.
However, he could not shake off his criminal past. In 1901 he was
accused of trying to swindle two businessmen with what he claimed
was the philosophers stone.55
As for Bruno Martnez, his fate was exactly what the judge had
ordered. After a brief and unsuccessful escape attempt from Beln,
Martnez faced the ring squad in 1892. He spent his last twenty-
four hours praying in the prison shrine, hopeful that his sentence
would be commuted. It was not. God, or don Porrio in this case,
was not listening. When brought before his executioners, he asked
to speak to Miguel Cabrera, the hated secret-police ofcial. As the
two men spoke, Martnez took out a knife and stabbed Cabrera in
the arm. Cabrera escaped serious harm, but his attacker was quickly
lined up against the wall and shot. It took three additional shots, all
at close range, to nish off Martnez. If the guards had read the writ-
ing on Cabreras cell wall, they would have been better prepared. On
it Martnez had scribbled these deant words: Soon they are going
to kill me but I dont care. I will kill Cabrera.56
Remembering Modernity
Martnezs last words are forever etched in the history of the Porriato.
Like his criminal comrades Francisco El Chalequero Guerrero and
Jess El Tigre de Santa Julia Negrete, Brunos nal statements have
passed into myth, as have the deeds of his compatriots. The La Profesa
robbery is one of those stories that has taken on a life of its own, out-
living the lives and memories of those who rst gathered outside the
store on that fateful February afternoon. In 1926, for instance, the
popular Mexico City paper El Universal Grco ran a series of articles
recalling the famous crimes of the Porriato. Although much of the
papers information is truthful, certain embellishments added an
artistic air, especially to the section focusing on La Profesa.57
The paper recalled that Carballeda and other police ofcials had
received reports in the weeks leading up to the robbery that a band
of criminals, operating in the European School and headed by a
Frenchman, had been responsible for several recent robberies and
murders in the capital. The seriess information on the actual rob-
bery did not detract from the established record; however, one article
also reported that in the evening following the robbery, two men,
one with a heavy foreign accent (obviously Treffel), had entered a
French restaurant known for its all-night revelry and ordered food and
drink. As polkas and mazurkas played in the background, the pair,
accompanied by women and boasting of their wealth, paid no heed
to two men sitting nearby. The evening passed. Both men paid their
tab and left, followed by the two mysterious men, who as it turned
out were agent Miguel Cabrera and an associate named Quintero.
The ofcers tailed the men to several late-night cantinas and nally
to the San Lzaro area, where one of them (Treffel again) boarded a
train to Puebla.58
El Universal Grcos historical memory of La Profesa evoked sym-
bols of modernity to fashion an image of a society that rejected its
Mexican indigenous heritage and embraced Europe. The Frenchman
Treffel and his European brand of criminality were symptoms of the
corruption of lancien rgime. For instance, the restaurant where Treffel
drank the night away linked the Porriato to Europe. Porrian moder-
nity, it seemed, was as much a villain as the men who stabbed poor
don Hernndez.

The robbery, however, symbolized much more than criminalitys
threat to the Mexican nation. The case and others like it were rep-
resentative of how effectively the Porrian regime could respond if
its interests were perceived to be under attack. Mexico Citys police
forces, acting in concert, tracked down criminals using a variety of
tools, including informants and dragnets, and then employed tor-
ture to exact confessions. The ultimate punishments, signied by
consignment to San Juan de Ula and the death penalty in Beln,
demonstrated the power of the state.
La Profesa and the Brilanti robbery also allow us a glimpse, however
eeting, of informal networks that pervaded the real city. Ordinary
Mexicans resisted the state by utilizing urban networks, evasion, ight,
and sometimes violence. The state was not invincible. The perception
that poor Mexicans utilized deception and trickery to evade police fueled
elite concerns that organized crime pervaded the underworld.
It was this concern that ultimately motivated ofcials at the high-
est levels to attach special importance to the La Profesa robbery. The
implications of the murder were important; a respected merchant
had been murdered in the heart of the city, practically under the nose
of the police. Although the conspirators were soon captured, their
sophistication troubled elites. Order and progress had come under
attack by persons who wore the mask of modernity but who were
representatives of criminality. It would not be the last time.

5
Disease, Decay, and the Strange Case of

Federico Abrego and Mara Barrera
Cities, like men, have a system. They have nerves, veins, arteries and
an abdomen; and this abdomen is horrible and mysterious.
El Imparcial, July 10, 1908
ac ting o n a t i p, on October 5, 1898, Mexico City police

began an investigation into the recent death of a young obstetrics
nurse, Mara Barrera. Three days before, Barrera had died in the of-
ce of Federico Abrego, a well-known doctor, during a medical pro-
cedure intended to stop a massive hemorrhage. The death, Abrego
reported at the time, had been unfortunate but natural, the result of
uncontrolled bleeding. However, investigators were doubtful. Dig-
ging deeper, they not only discovered that Abrego and Barrera had
been lovers, but that Barrera appeared to have died at the hands of
a medical conspiracy headed by Abrego. What secrets did Barrera
take to the grave? Why was she buried hastily? And most impor-
tantly, what exactly happened on the night of October 2?1
The mysterious death of Mara Barrera, as the Porrian press
rst dubbed this case, offers a privileged look at the role of mod-
ern medicine and urban hygiene in late nineteenth-century Mexico
City. As we have noted, Mexican elites constructed a narrative that
utilized traditional fears of the urban poor to forge an imagined
criminal underworld. Celebrated cases such as the Francisco
Guerrero murders helped the government elaborate this invented
threat. However, middle-class criminality and the apparent ease
with which criminals penetrated the heart of the city undermined
the elite discourse.
Enter modern medicine. By the 1890s scientic and medical prog-
ress in Mexico and Latin America had led to new ways of thinking
about the role of the nation-state in relation to disease and hygiene.
Throughout the region national governments and elites implemented
vaccination programs, health inspections, and public ordinances in
order to control the lives and the bodies of a popular class increas-
ingly seen as a source of physical and social infection. There was
resistance against this program. For instance, in 1904 ofcials in Rio
de Janiero, Brazil, contended with an urban riot when they attempted
to carry out a vaccination law that targeted that citys poor. However,
the increasing power of the modern state to intervene in the personal
lives of its citizens could not be stopped.2
Modern medical science provided another tool for social control,
with doctors and health inspectors serving as willing agents. This
was especially evident in Porrian Mexico City, with its large, impov-
erished population and abundance of sanitation issues. Yet the death
of Mara Barrera posed a dilemma for the Porrian elite. In the wake
of the scandal that followed, public commentary became focused on
middle- and upper-class anxieties about the role of modern medicine.
While elites agreed that the urban underclass posed a signicant threat
to public hygiene, the case itself presented a dilemma. As a licensed
obstetrician, Barrera allegedly represented the ideal Porrian woman:
intelligent, incorruptible, and pure. The circumstances surrounding
her relationship with Abrego would dispel these notions. Abregos role
posed a similar dilemma. How could a respected doctor, a symbol of
medical progress, commit such a crime? As Porrian society increas-
ingly sought to limit and control the activities of the urban underclass,
the case of Federico Abrego and Mara Barrera threatened not only to
undermine ofcial efforts to promote modern medical science, but
to link professional medicine with the imagined underworld.3
132 Disease, Decay, and the Strange Case of Federico Abrego and Mara Barrea
The Contaminated Body
The Porrian elite had long considered Mexico Citys impoverished
neighborhoods hotbeds of infection. In numerous ofcial documents
and newspaper accounts, the poor hygienic conditions reported in
working-class neighborhoods contributed to ofcial perceptions that
the capitals underclass was physically degenerate, uncivilized, and
infected by lth and decay. Such thinking was not exclusive to the
Mexican elite class. Teresa A. Meades study of turn-of-the-century
Rio de Janeiro demonstrates the way in which positivistic interpreta-
tions of health and sanitation found their way into projects aimed at
sanitizing cities, in effect civilizing them. Porrian ofcials, like
their Brazilian counterparts, believed that outbreaks of disease in
poor colonias contributed to criminality, and vice versa. The goal,
then, was to cleanse the neighborhoods of lth and vice. It was not
an easy task. For instance, El Imparcial reported in 1909 on a murder
in the working-class colonia of Candelaria de los Patos. In the article
the newspaper linked the murder to the colonias physical aspects,
describing in lurid detail how Candelaria was inhabited by people
of the worst species and human trash. This river of humanity,
the newspaper noted, lived in vice and miserable conditions, sur-
rounded by ies.4
Accordingly, Porrians tried to correct the situation or at least to
impose a modicum of health standards. Sanitary inspectors were
often at the forefront, routinely identifying locations deemed to be
centers of infection. Acting on reports of complaints that ranged
from dead animals in the streets to human waste being dumped in
open pits, inspectors repeatedly fanned out into the marginal city.
In 1899, for example, inspectors paid a visit to San Salvador el Seco
Street, where some residents had long complained that people living
in tenement houses removed human waste by dumping it into carts
that passed by every night. The resulting stench upset those residents
who had managed to install basic facilities. The ofcials listened
to these complaints, ordered offenders to construct the appropriate
facilities, and departed. However, the problem was not solved, lead-
ing to further complaints, useless citations, and increasing condem-
nation of the urban poor.5
Disease, Decay, and the Strange Case of Federico Abrego and Mara Barrea 133
And the poor received the brunt of condemnation. One report alleged
that the leading cause of contagion in the impoverished sectors was
the very clothes that the poor wore. One inspector commented on the
absurdity of ordering the underclass to wash their clothes, because if
they did, they would be naked, since they owned no other clothing.
The ofcial added that poor Mexicans usually wore their clothing
until it fell off, lived in intensely overcrowded conditions, and drank
pulque to ward off hunger. Biased reports like these prompted the city
to send out inspectors periodically, and in the 1890s, as the popula-
tion grew, inspections became increasingly common. The municipal
government also strengthened its hand with new sanitation codes,
one in 1891 and the second, with much more forceful language, in
1894. Eventually, don Porrio modernized the Superior Sanitation
Council, an inspection body rst formed in 1841. By 1900 the ssc
was composed of twenty-three different commissions, all of whom
were tasked with the collective responsibility of monitoring the citys
public health.6
Still, the complaints came: dirty streets, lthy hovels, and the endur-
ing stench of rotting carcasses. City ofcials were inundated with
reports. Travelers on the San Antonio Abad road, on their way to
the outlying community of Tlalpan, reported that they had to pass
a slaughterhouse where the rotting carcasses of pigs decayed in the
open air. To make matters worse, a nearby garbage dump was home to
several impoverished families, who rooted the dump for food along-
side pigs and other animals. Moreover, the generally poor conditions
inside outlying colonias fostered the presence of criminality, since
lawbreakers tended to hide in these marginal spaces, away from the
prying eyes of the police.7
Public cemeteries were especially the target of ofcial complaints.
Mexico City possessed several, ironically rst chartered as modern
spaces intended to replace the practice of church burials. By the end
of the nineteenth century, the average working-class cemetery was
not considered modern by elites, but rather was seen as a center of
vice and infection. For example, in 1899 district ofcials wrestled with
a string of complaints surrounding Dolores Cemetery. Apparently,
the Municipal Cemetery Commission was troubled by the numerous
ghts that frequently broke out in Dolores, ghts worsened by pul-
que sales at or near the cemetery. Francisco Yaez, who sold pulque
at his restaurant, Don Juan Tenorio in the Cemetery, was particu-
larly upset because ofcials had prevented him from selling his own
pulque. Yaez argued that mobile pulque sellers, who did not pay
taxes, frequently set up shop inside Dolores Cemetery, and further,
that persons attending burials were already drunk when they arrived.
Commissioners, apparently disgusted with the entire matter, could
not believe that persons drank in public cemeteries. However, they
were prepared to grant Yaez permission to sell pulque based on the
rationale that the two police ofcers posted in the cemetery had bet-
ter things to do than police pulque sales.8
The elite perception that cemeteries such as Dolores were working-
class hangouts where crimes were common added to the ofcial view
that the urban poor were degenerate. Perhaps the issue that troubled
ofcials the most was how easily public spaces were turned into dens
of inequity by the underclass, replete with unhygienic practices and
rampant disease. This was exemplied by the endless reports centered
on the notorious Beln prison. As we have seen, the prison possessed
its own vibrant subculture and was practically a sovereign entity, run
almost entirely by the prisoners under the supervision of an adminis-
tration that was not entirely vigilant, judging by the numerous escapes
it saw during its dark career.
For prisoners the biggest dangers were not limited to violence, how-
ever. Beln suffered many outbreaks of epidemic disease, especially
typhus and cholera. In 1899 a particularly nasty outbreak of cholera
prompted representatives from the Epidemiology Commission to
visit the prison and inspect the water and sewage system. Incredibly,
the commissioners found the system to be in good condition. No
doubt political pressure played a role in the wording of the report.
However, the commission was alarmed at the large number of pris-
oners living in crowded conditions as well as the overall lack of
ventilation and light. Ignoring this aspect, the inspectors instead
concluded that the prisons high humidity, aided by recent rains, had
contributed to the disease.9
Belns surrounding neighborhood offered similar conditions. In the
same year that the commission visited the prison, municipal authori-
ties received an anonymous complaint about the empty lot behind
Beln. The complaint stated that the lot was a center of infection
and that it posed a danger to police ofcers and other prison of-
cials, since it had become a hangout for criminals and other marginal
individuals. Prison ofcials were, of course, helpless to do anything
about these conditions, as they were about the numerous pulqueras
that dotted the vicinity, businesses not exactly known for being clean
and sanitary. One pulquera near Beln, the Disco Del Sol (Disc of
the Sun), was particularly notorious, the scene of many ghts and a
favorite hangout for prostitutes and prison guards. Belns admin-
istrator lamented the fact that the pulquera was located in front of
the jail, labeling the situation immoral.10
In a city where crime, the poor, and immorality were often syn-
onymous, epidemics that mainly struck impoverished colonias vali-
dated elite views. In late 1892 and early 1893 the capital experienced
a large outbreak of typhus that lled the beds of Jurez Hospital,
already home to a large number of the inrm and even a sizable leper
colony.11 Another outbreak struck the capital in late 1905 and early
1906. In response El Imparcial published reports and maps indicat-
ing which districts and streets contained the most reported cases.
Of course poor districts bore the brunt of the epidemic. The typhus
outbreak motivated the city to issue a long list of instructions to its
inspectors, ordering them to fan out throughout the capital and order
residents to stop throwing trash in the streets. Personal hygiene was
a deep concern. Ofcials required all those under arrest at the citys
various police substations to be given a bath, as well as those who
lived in public dormitories. Homeless beggars were especially target-
ed, their clothes burned. Regular police were ordered to accompany
inspectors to prevent the poor from resisting.12 Government ofcials
blamed the 19056 outbreak on the underclass, labeling them as an
agglomeration of people who thanks to bad education and poverty,
live in poor and dirty conditions.13
According to Alison Bashford, epidemics are not merely biological
events, but also political and social incidents that governments create
and to which they respond.14 Yet how could city ofcials effectively
respond to the poor conditions in the working-class colonias when
parents threatened their children with vaccinations as punishment?15
The answer was that they tried, at the very least, and even dreamed up
projects in which dirty colonias would be torn down, replaced by clean
parks and public housing.16 Of course these plans were never carried
out. Porrian ofcials may have dreamed of better things to come,
but the temptation to label the underclass as morally degenerate and
criminal was too tempting. As Pamela Voekel has observed, Bourbon
ofcials in the late eighteenth century targeted the social activities
of the poor in an effort to control morally questionable behavior and
improve public health. In the late nineteenth century Porrian of-
cials continued to do the same.17
Some of the behavior the elite condemned centered on sexual activ-
ity. Ofcials were convinced that the environment in neighborhoods
such as La Bolsa contributed to the conditions necessary for sexually
related crimes. Certainly, the exploits of Francisco Guerrero come
to mind. Guerreros crimes were facilitated by the relative isolation
of northeastern Mexico Cityisolation not only in the physical, but
also in the social sense. Porrian efforts to identify and punish sexual
offenders and control venereal diseases were not uncommon, but the
Mexican state would not undertake massive reforms until the post-
1920 era. Still, police actively investigated sexual offenses.18
One such case centered on the abuse of a seven-year-old boy,
Herminio Lpez. On June 23, 1908, Rafaela Gonzlez denounced
Mara Belmonte of having sexually molested her son. Gonzlez told
the police that a few days back she had noticed that Herminios penis
was inamed. When she asked him what had happened, the young
boy replied that Belmonte on occasion fondled his penis, and at night,
when Gonzlez was asleep, Belmonte would climb on top of him,
open her legs, and tighten his penis against her, or in other words,
have sexual intercourse. Herminio told his mother that Belmonte had
told him to keep the incidents a secret, as if his mother found out,
he would be severely beaten. Belmonte, of course, denied the allega-
tions and accused Gonzlez of having sex with her other, older son,
Margarito. Further, she said that Gonzlez slept with both her sons
on the same petate; thus, Belmonte would have woken up Gonzlez
if she had come into the room. Medical ofcials examined Belmonte
but did not nd evidence that she had any venereal disease. The sec-
tion detailing what happened to Herminio is missing from the case
le, but Belmonte did end up spending some time in jail.19
Mara Belmonte, accused of sexual molestation, became the object
of state intervention. Her body, subject to the gaze and touch of male
representatives of modernity, became synonymous with the way in
which the poor were viewed in Porrian Mexico City, as objects of sex-
ual curiosity, derision, degeneracy, and perhaps fear. David Arnold, in
his study on colonial India, examines how Western societies increas-
ingly sought to control the indigenous body during the colonial era.20
Likewise, as Porrian Mexico embraced modern medicine, so too did
it promote increasing control over the social activities and illnesses
of the poor and, as we shall see, the female body.21
Modernitys Male Gaze

Ofcial efforts to dene and control the urban underclass extended
to medical practices that exposed female bodies to inspection and
criticism. Porrian elites viewed poor women as especially challeng-
ing subjects, since they deed ofcial ideals that elevated women as
mothers of the modern nation-state. During the 1890 Guerrero trial,
observers and critics laughed at the seemingly endless parade of pros-
titutes called to testify. Their appearance, coupled with the damning
discourse by the prosecution, produced the image of moral decay in
the jurys minds. These scene collided with the more benign picture
of women such as Mara Barrera, who represented the dangers posed
to the middle class by the alleged corruption of the underworld.
Indeed, elites appropriated the bodies of deceased poor women
and used their deaths as avenues to discuss the dangers of illicit sex
and crime. In March 1899 Mexico City medical and police ofcials
exhumed the corpse of a well-known prostitute, Dolores Duran, to
determine the actual cause of her demise. Newspapers had a eld day
with Durans life, reporting that she had lived a life of orgies and had
died of pneumonia. The published report on the excavation detailed
in grisly fashion the state of her body. It was a horrible spectacle,
one writer noted, the corpse was entirely black, its teeth sticking out
from gangrene-infected lips. The writer also noted that the humble
clothes had stuck to the body, and when these were peeled back, the
bloated skin was revealed in all its horrible nudity amid thousands
of writhing maggots and nauseous gases.22
Durans exhibition powerfully demonstrates the way in which elites
used the bodies of the poor as texts that incorporated ideas about
morality and the dangers of vice. Newspaper accounts frequently
elaborated on the grisly fates that befell the urban poor, placing their
deaths in the context of misery, degeneration, and decay. For instance,
the writers of the Gaceta de Polica reported in November 1905 on the
tragic events on Calle de los Amores, a street located somewhere
in the poor underside of the capital. A woman of humble means,
Lorenza Snchez, had given birth to a boy, but the baby had died.
Exhausted and heartbroken, the woman fell asleep. Shortly thereafter,
three black cats entered the house and partially devoured the babys
corpse. Neighbors intervened and chased the cats away. Snchez then
placed the remains together and called the police.23
Snchezs plight, while atypical, nevertheless conveyed the mes-
sage that the poor lived in a permanent state of decay and lth. Indeed
press depictions tended to portray the anatomy of the poor in partic-
ularly gruesome terms. Yet these descriptions were also clearly voy-
euristic, especially in relation to the bodies of women. For instance,
a report in the medical journal Gaceta Mdica de Mxico described how
Adela Lpez de Domnguez, who had given birth to eight children
when she was between ages eighteen and thirty-two, had begun to
suffer from a tumor in her abdomen. During an operation to study
and perhaps remove the tumor, physicians described Domnguez in
childlike terms and noted her bodily functions after she was given a
laxative.24 Lpez de Domnguez, a real person with real hopes and
fears, was reduced in ofcial reports to a scientic curiosity, a repre-
sentative of a world of disease and lth.
The Mysterious Death of Mara Barrera

The Porrian regime clearly saw the poor as distinct from the edu-
cated classes, placing them into a context suffused with degeneracy.
Accordingly, elites placed great importance on purifying the city, both
physically and morally, although the former was easier than the latter.
Aside from numerous efforts to improve the hygienic atmosphere in
the capital, the regime sponsored major medical conferences, includ-
ing the Second Pan-American Medical Congress, held in Mexico City
in November 1896.25 As Claudia Agostoni shows, Porrian-sponsored
medical conferences and exhibitions were designed to highlight the
progress the government had made in both medical science and public
hygiene, among other concerns.26 The 1896 meeting, which followed
after the rst in Washington dc in 1893, featured the usual intense
scientic discussions on the latest medical advances and their relation
to society. In an era when medical science linked morality to public
health, medical congresses and societies, such as Mexico Citys own
Pedro Escobedo Society, were in the vanguard in the socialization
of medicine. Undoubtedly the importance of the meeting was not
lost on two particular attendees, a young and respected physician,
Federico Abrego, and a beautiful and talented obstetrics nurse, Mara
Barrera. As fate would have it, both Abrego and Barrera would soon
enter a world where medicine and morality clasheda meeting with
particularly deadly results.
The possibility that foul play had somehow ended the life of Mara
Barrera interested police and the capitals newspapers, which naturally
smelled a developing scandal. The details were simple enough. On
the afternoon of October 2, Doctor Federico Abrego had reportedly
summoned two associates, Manuel Gutirrez and Francisco Altamira,
to his private residence on Arcos de San Agustn Street, in District
Four, about four blocks south of the Plateros Street business district.
The two physicians had ostensibly been called to help Abrego with
a patient of his who was bleeding uncontrollably. Altamira, inter-
viewed later by detectives, conrmed that he had indeed been called
to Abregos house on the afternoon of that day, reportedly to assist
Abrego with the patient. Altamira noted that he and Abrego had ini-
tially succeeded in stopping the bleeding but returned later to nd
the woman in a coma. Apparently, Barrera had lost a lot of blood;
she died around 4:00 in the morning. Investigators also interviewed
Manuel Gutirrez, who said that he had not been present during the
operation. Therefore, the focus fell on Doctor Abrego and to a lesser
extent on his colleague, Altamira.27
The death of a patient was not a novelty in the medical world of
Porrian Mexico City. However, the facts that both Abrego and Barrera
had a previous relationship and that certain members of Barreras fam-
ily were suspicious led police to suspect Abrego was hiding something.
Continuing their investigation, detectives uncovered a startling fact:
Barrera had been buried in haste, without the benet of an autopsy.
After completing their initial questioning of the physicians, police
next interviewed the family, beginning with Ana Barrera, Maras sis-
ter. She told investigators that her sister had been sick for several days
from a severe menstrual period. However, she stated that on the day
before her death Mara did not look ill at all. Ana remembered that on
the morning of October 3 she and her family, including her mother
and her brother Juan, were awakened by Seor Amadeo Berger and
his wife, friends of Abrego. They told the family that Mara was very
ill and that they needed to go see her. Ana promptly left at the urging
of her mother, but by the time she arrived at the Abrego residence,
which doubled as a clinic, her sister had reportedly died. Ana report-
edly asked to see her sisters corpse, but the physicians present pre-
vented her from doing so. She then returned to her house and told
her family, who were of course surprised at the turn of events. Ana
Barreras statements were conrmed by Juan Barrera, who said that
he went to Doctor Abregos house after being informed of the news.
Upon entering the room, he saw his sisters body lying on an oper-
ating table with her eyes open. Juan noticed the heavy smell of ether,
saw a stain on Maras face, and noticed that she had on only a few
clothes and that these were different from the ones he had seen her
wearing earlier in the day. He became suspicious and went to a family
friend, a certain Doctor Gregorio Mendizabal, who told him that in
his opinion the death sounded suspicious. Juan Barrera added that
Mara usually had heavy menstrual periods and consequently had to
sleep on a special bed.28
Mara Barreras mother, Salom Ruiz, also offered her version of
the events. Ruiz said that her daughter had left on the evening of
October 2 to assist a doctor with a sick girl and that she would be
back promptly. Ruiz did not suspect anything and prepared dinner
for her daughter. She became aware that something was amiss at
around 2:00 a.m., when two persons showed up at her house, urg-
ing her to go to the Abrego residence because Mara was very ill. She
sent Ana, who returned later with the bad news. Interestingly, Ruiz
refused Abregos offer to pay for the funeral and took care of all the
arrangements. She added that Maras menstrual cycle had been very
irregular for two months and that she had experienced a particularly
heavy period of bleeding four days before her death. Of course she
had suspected a pregnancy, but a woman who had examined Mara
said that was not the case. As for Abrego, she knew her daughter and
the young doctor had been in a relationship for ten months, Abrego
being a regular visitor to the house on Thursday and Sunday after-
noons. She was not aware of any improprieties, since she supervised
these visits, Abrego not being allowed to venture into the house past
the receiving room.29
Of course police were most interested in Federico Abregos account.
A native of Orizaba, Veracruz, Abrego was thirty-two years old, while
Mara Barrera was twenty-eight. He told police that he had indeed been
in a relationship with Mara but added that he had intended to marry
her. He also immediately denied that he had harbored any sinister
intentions. The death was unforeseen, Abrego told investigators. On
the day of the incident Abrego had paid a visit to Barrera at her home at
around 5:00 p.m. as was his custom, but he added that he saw Mara
every day at the Alameda. At her home Mara had told him that she
had been bleeding for various days and had showed Abrego a white
skirt that was severely bloodstained. Abrego informed the family that
he would treat her, and they agreed. However, he had to call for help,
since her bleeding was very severe. Abregos story clearly contradict-
ed the familys version of events, as they never said that Abrego had
shown up at the house. A family friend, Father Daniel Franco, who
had been staying at the Barrera residence, conrmed the family ver-
sion, stating that around 5:00 p.m. a messenger had shown up at the
house with a message for Mara, who left shortly afterward. Franco
was aware that Barrera often left under emergency circumstances
and did not suspect anything.30
Abregos personal reputation was now at stake. As a result he felt
justied in writing a long letter to Maras mother explaining his actions
on that Sunday. An excerpt follows:
m e x ico c i t y, 8 o c t o b e r 1 8 9 8
Seora Salome Ruiz de Barrera
Presente
Seora, out of respect and in consideration
The special circumstances that have recently occurred and we are
grieving over have obligated me to truthfully explain the events in
the hopes that you can judge them and in doing so my conscience
can rest.
This past Sunday I went as usual to your house to visit your daugh-
ter Mara (R.I.P.), arriving at 5 in the afternoon. After being in her
company for a few minutes I became aware that the blood loss that
had been occurring for eight days had gotten worse. She asked me
what could be done about it and I stated that I needed to see her
immediately in my ofce. She was practically alone (the only other
person in the house was the priest) so I urged her to come with me
so I could apply an energetic treatment. We went to my ofce where
I called for a specialist in treating womens illnesses, who promptly
arrived. Together we applied the best scientic treatments for hemor-
rhagic bleeding. It seemed that our efforts worked, since the bleed-
ing abated. I thought of notifying you, but your daughter opposed
it, saying that her illness would pass quickly and if you knew you
would only be worried and that you always trusted her. Members
of my family and I stayed with your daughter and we believed that
the worst had passed, but unfortunately the blood loss continued. I
sent for Doctor Altamira again and we decided to send my aunt and
uncle for you and your family since the situation worsened quickly.
Moments before Ana arrived Mara entrusted her soul to God. We
tried to save her but our methods failed.31
Abrego explained that as Maras boyfriend he could be trusted to

tell the truth, and any suspicious signs should be disregarded. For
example, he explained that when he tried to apply chloroform as a
sedative, Mara moved abruptly, therefore causing some drops to spill
on her face. Abrego added that he had to sedate her, since they were
going to apply a plug to stop the bleeding. As for the clothes, Abrego
explained that Mara had bled so much that they had to remove her
original clothes and substitute a special garment, which during the
operation partially revealed her body. However, Abrego assured Ruiz
that Mara had been decently covered to prevent her shame from
being seen and her modesty was respected as betting a young
woman in her position, a woman whom Abrego intended to make
his wife.32
In the letter Abrego displayed absolute condence. He also men-
tioned that the loss of Mara was the second time God had taken
away an opportunity for him to form a home. Abrego ended the letter
with more regretful language, asking for Ruizs understanding and
forgiveness that he had not been able to pay a personal visit to see her,
since the recent turn of events had left little time for anything.33
Part of those recent events had been the ever-increasing suspi-
cion that Abrego had committed some sort of crime. Aware of the
familys suspicions, investigators decided to order an exhumation
and an autopsy. On October 21 law-enforcement personnel as well
as medical experts went to Dolores Cemetery to carry out the grisly
task. The party arrived at 8:30 a.m. and proceeded to the burial site,
accompanied by cemetery personnel. Several workers dug the cofn
out of the earth. According to standard procedure, the cofn was dis-
infected and, after waiting a few minutes, the lid was opened. Inside
was the corpse of Mara Barrera, dressed in a blue suit, a black coat,
and white cotton hose. Across the forehead was a white ribbon with
the word recuerdo embroidered on it. The face had a big yellow
stain consistent with a chemical-induced discoloration. Beside the
body there was a glass bottle with a card inside it announcing the
completion of her studies in 1893 as an obstetrician and the date of
her death. The body, bloated by decomposing gases, stank, forcing
the authorities present to cover their noses. The personnel transferred
Barreras body to Jurez Hospital, where several staff members rec-
ognized her. Accordingly, medical staff readied the corpse of their
deceased colleague for an autopsy.34
The exhumation itself was not unusual. According to one com-
mentary, between 1882 and 1896 a total of eighty-two exhumations
were conducted in the Federal District. These events were generally
considered safe, thanks to what the commentary referred to as the
Fig. 3. Exhumation of Mara Barrera. El Imparcial, October 22, 1898.
latest scientic advances, including a process developed in Mexico

by which disinfectant was liberally applied to the exhumation site,
the cofn, and the corpse itself.35
Alison Bashford, in her study of gender and Victorian medicine in
Great Britain, discusses at length how at the end of the nineteenth
century dissections were still viewed as uncomfortable and contro-
versial practices, especially given the fact that men usually presided
in large numbers over the nude corpses of women.36 Although the
Mexico City newspaper community did not offer any thoughts on the
planned dissection, it did focus on the overall issue of morality. In
other words by possibly seducing an unsuspecting young and virtu-
ous woman and conducting an operation in secret, Abrego had dis-
honored her in a horrible fashion. Worse still, Abrego had possibly
committed a crime against family honor. El Imparcial, in an editorial
titled The Criminal Doctors, offered a word of caution:
Unfortunately, the expansion of progress has brought to soci-

eties the multiplication of centers of corruption that drag our
youth into them . . . to subsist on the pornography from cer-
tain scientic presses, from nauseating comic theatre and from
advanced schools and professionals that harbor an immoral-
ity that frightens the most astute observer. Physicians, mostly
young, cannot escape this rising tide of corruption and its not
uncommon to see them at bullghts, cantinas and other cen-
ters of corruption, immersed in drunkenness and scandal, cast-
ing aside society and . . . the morality that should characterize
the medical profession. Families, in the interest of honor that
is more precious than good health, should be alert for these
criminal doctors.37
El Imparcial not only condemned the capitals medical community, but,

by extension, Porrian-sponsored modernity, which it linked to vice
and crime. For instance, its accusation that medical journals were por-
nographic indicates public anxiety with the scientic exploration of the
human body. The paper also reported that one of the prevailing rumors
circulating in the capital consisted of a scenario in which Abrego had
committed an abortion. Certainly, it would seem that public opinion
had already cast Abrego as one of the criminal doctors.38
Modern science, however, offered the strongest condemnation of
Abrego. After the autopsy medical experts issued a somewhat lengthy
report that noted various injuries on the corpse, including the burnlike
mark on the face as well as inamed genital organs and bloodstains
on the upper legs. Given the intense speculation about a possible
abortion, examiners concentrated their efforts on the reproductive
system, removing it for detailed observation. One by one the uterus,
the fallopian tubes, and the ovaries were removed and placed in jars.
After careful analysis, which included measuring the size and shape
of the internal tissues in the womb, the examiners concluded that
Mara Barrera had been four or ve months pregnant at the time of
her death and that she had died from internal bleeding as a result of
an abortion. However, they did not locate whatever remained of the
fetus inside the womb. The expert commission reached these conclu-
sions on November 6, but the body was not reinterred until December
6, in case more examinations were needed.39
Armed with these results, prosecutors once again interviewed
Abrego, who repeated his previous statements and added that at no
point did he ever have sexual relations with Barrera. He also believed
that she did not have another lover. In addition Abrego emphatically
denied that he had performed an abortion on Barrera, telling investi-
gators that the injuries in her genital area were caused by the instru-
ments he used to try to stop the bleeding. Prosecutors urged Abrego
to tell the truth, but he insisted on his own version of the events.
However, prosecutors felt they had enough evidence to detain the doc-
tor. They asked a judge to issue an arrest warrant. On the afternoon
of November 10, Pedro Ocampo, head of the secret police, accom-
panied by another agent, left police headquarters on the Zocalo and
proceeded a few blocks south to Arcos de San Agustn Street. They had
to arrest Abrego outside his home, since their warrant did not allow
them to enter the doctors residence. Accordingly, they ordered an
informant, an old lady, to go to the house and pretend to be sick. The
elderly woman knocked on the door and requested an appointment
with Abrego, but the woman who answered the door, no doubt the
housekeeper, replied that the doctor was busy and could not attend
to any patients. Temporarily prevented from carrying out their duty,
the agents waited outside the house until 9:30 p.m., when new activ-
ity aroused their suspicions.40
A young man suddenly appeared outside, allegedly with a message
from Doctor Altamira requesting Abregos presence. Perhaps sens-
ing an imminent arrest, Abrego asked his uncle, Amadeo Berger, to
go with the young man and see what Altamirano wanted. Berger and
the messenger left the house and were immediately apprehended by
the agents, who mistook Berger for Abrego. Realizing their mistake,
they let Berger go after concocting an excuse, but Berger, suspicious,
informed Abrego, who did not come out into the street. Undeterred,
Ocampo and his assistant hid in the shadows and waited for another
opportunity; however, the necessities of bureaucracy intervened and
both ofcers retired for the night, replaced by another set of agents
who stood vigil outside the house. These agents spent the night con-
fusing Abregos neighbors for the elusive doctor.41
Sufciently frustrated, the police approached the judge again and
requested permission to enter the house and detain the doctor. The
judge agreed and issued the necessary document; in the morning,
amid a few onlookers who had gathered outside hoping to catch a
glimpse of the now nefarious doctor, several agents, led by Ocampo,
entered the residence. Amadeo Berger met them and told them that
his nephew was ill and asleep. Undaunted, the agents barged into
the bedroom and woke up Abrego, asking him to accompany them
to the police station. Abrego refused, citing the military fuero, the
traditional legal code giving soldiers immunity from civilian pros-
ecution. He claimed to be a lieutenant colonel in the armys medical
corps, as a result of which civilians could not arrest him. Ocampo
insisted that he go, telling him that he would use force if necessary.
Abrego, realizing the futility of resistance, relented but wanted to
put on his military uniform, complete with sword. Ocampo refused
this, saying that if he did so a scandal would ensue, and besides,
the doctor would be armed. Abrego acquiesced, donned his civilian
clothes, and left the house under police escort. The doctor boarded
a coach for Beln. The Mexico City police had their prize.42
The Secrets of the Profession

Abregos presence in Beln caused a minor scandal, many of the pris-
oners struggling to get a look at the well-dressed physician, who
maintained an air of superiority despite his surroundings. After going
before the presiding judge, Abrego was ofcially charged and placed
in a small cell. According to the Porrian legal system, jailed prison-
ers were placed in a legal limbo for seventy-two hours, during which
time the presiding judge either found sufcient cause to declare them
formerly jailed or, citing a lack of evidence, ordered them released. In
Abregos case the autopsy reports condemned him to a lengthy stay
in the famed prison. As he sat and pondered his fate, the legal and
medical establishments pored over the medical reports, listened to
experts, and reinterviewed witnesses and others associated with the
alleged crime. The most important witness was Altamira, who had
been present during the operation. When the judge and prosecutors
reinterviewed him, they discovered startling information that nally
began to peel away the layers of secrecy surrounding the case.43
Previously, Altamira had refused to divulge any additional infor-
mation, citing the secrets of his profession, but seeing the autopsy
reports published in the media, he now believed he had no choice but
to divulge all he knew. He confessed that Mara Barrera had indeed died
of massive bleeding caused by an abortion, not by a heavy menstrual
period as Abrego had insisted. Altamira recounted that on October
2 he had been at his residence when Abrego arrived and requested
advice on how to extract a placenta that had remained inside a woman
who had undergone an abortion. Abrego wanted to know whether
to employ medical instruments or his hand. Altamira told Abrego to
use his hand and offered his friend his services if needed, to which
Abrego replied that he would call on Altamira if the situation required
it. Altamira told him that he would be at Jurez Hospital later in the
day. At around 5:30 p.m. Abrego arrived at the hospital and requested
Altamiras help, and both men proceeded to Abregos ofce. Upon
entering Abrego told Altamira to wait in the receiving room, since
the woman did not want to be identied and had requested that she
rst be sedated. Abrego applied chloroform and after a few minutes
called Altamira in. They extracted the placenta and disinfected the
womans genital area with hot water, after which Altamira retired to
his hospital rounds.44
Later in the evening, at around 10:00 p.m., Abrego once again went
to the hospital and requested Altamiras help. Apparently, Barrera had
begun to bleed massively. Altamira accompanied Abrego back to his
ofce. They applied a vaginal plug, and after an injection of solu-
tion the bleeding seemed to lessen. Altamira retired to his residence
but a few hours later returned to Abregos ofce at the latters insis-
tence. Despite all efforts, the bleeding had not stopped but had only
worsened. At around 4:30 a.m. Mara Barrera died. When Altamira
questioned Abrego about the circumstances surrounding the abor-
tion, Abrego replied that he had been the father of the unborn child,
but he suspected that Mara herself had aborted the child. When con-
fronted with his colleagues statement, Abrego replied that it was all
true and once again insisted that he was innocent.45
Despite his repeated denials, Abrego had to face the next explo-
sive set of revelations. Since there was still some doubt as to whether
Mara Barrera had self-aborted or had her lover carry out the pro-
cedure, no trial had been set. Nevertheless, Abregos image as an
honorable medical doctor was put in serious doubt by the appear-
ance of Josena Salazar. Single, twenty-four years old, and a native
of Mexico City, Salazar declared that in 1887 and 1888 she had been
engaged to Abrego. Salazar told police that when she rst met the
doctor, he had been in the armys medical corps and appeared well
educated and honorable, a true gentleman. Never would she have
suspected that Abrego would commit a horrible act. Salazar recalled
that sometime after she met Abrego, he asked to stay in her house on
the promise that he would not attempt in any way to dishonor her.
Salazars mother gave permission, and Abrego stayed at the Salazar
home not only once, but several times. One day Salazars mother left
on some business. Abrego arrived shortly afterward and dispatched
the maid, telling her to go purchase some milk. As soon as they were
alone, Abrego began to make sexual advances toward Salazar. Salazar
refused, but the scheming Abrego reassured her that no harm would
come to her. He then took a small ask containing some chloroform
out of his coat pocket, opened it, and forced Salazar to inhale it. She
passed out, but when she came to she felt her body to be different.
Salazar realized that she had been raped and promptly informed her
mother, who forbid Abrego to ever return to the house. However,
Salazars mother, not satised with leaving the issue alone, went to
look for Abrego and, nding him, confronted the doctor. Abrego
pleaded with her, aware of the possible charge of rape. His words con-
vinced Salazars mother to give him a second chance, and he returned
to the house. Eventually, Josena bore him a son in February 1889;
however, he soon abandoned his new family.46
Salazar found out about Abregos troubles from newspaper reports.
After her appearance several newspapers reported on her past with
Abrego and played up her humble appearance, mentioning the ten-
year-old child she carried in her arms as looking remarkably like the
doctor. Salazar told prosecutors that the last time she saw Abrego,
the doctor had unceremoniously booted her out of his ofce amid the
sobbing laments of her son, who clung to his fathers legs and asked
for forgiveness. Abrego did not deny or conrm the story, but, when
faced with the next revelation, could not deny his shady past anymore.
Another woman, Mara Ledesma, came forward with the allegation
that she was Abregos wife. Abrego denied it at rst, but ofcials con-
ducted an investigation. They determined that Abrego had married
Ledesma in a Catholic ceremony in March 1894. When authorities
confronted Abrego with this piece of information, the doctor admitted
the truth but added that he was not legally married in the eyes of the
law, since the wedding was never registered with the proper ofcials.
Then he added, smirking, Who knows how many times I have been
married this way? Although these incidents made some waves in the
columns of Mexico Citys dailies, they failed to produce any additional
charges against Abrego. However, they would inuence the judge in
considering Abregos request for bail. Normally, the courts granted
bail to prisoners if they demonstrated good moral antecedents.
Newspaper reports seized on this wording and questioned whether
Abrego was indeed as honorable as he claimed. Abregos past may
have inuenced the judge to initially deny bail.47
Despite the new allegations about his past, Abrego continued to
elude conviction simply because prosecutors had not come up with
conclusive proof that the doctor had carried out the abortion. However,
the slow legal process did not help Abrego, since a quick exoneration
would have salvaged what was left of his career. The Third Criminal
Court, based in Beln prison, handled the case slowly. Abrego also
had to face the ire of the public, including Barreras family, who pub-
licly blamed Abrego for the death of their oldest daughter. However,
Abrego was not without his allies. For example, Amadeo Bergers
wife told newspapers that Mara Barreras sister had told her that a
few weeks before Maras death, a girl of comfortable means had
asked Mara for a potion that would induce an abortion. Mara refused
to help, and the girl went away only to return a few days later with
the news that she had aborted but could not stop bleeding. Barrera
apparently tried to assist the young woman, but she failed and the
patient died. When asked to verify this news, Maras sister said it
had never happened. The police, unable to nd any corroborating
evidence, did not pursue the matter, perhaps recognizing it as an
attempt by Abregos camp to divert attention from the real case and
cast Barrera in a negative light.48
Abrego remained in Beln during the winter of 189899, as the
wheels of justice ground on. He periodically made appearances before
the court and was given to shouting exercises in which he proclaimed
his innocence. When his attorneys unsuccessfully tried to procure
his release on bail of three thousand pesos, the judge denied the
request. Although he was inuenced by the previous revelations about
Abregos past, the judge, in denying the request, stated that the charge
of abortion still allowed for bail, but Abrego was not entitled to it
since new elements have surfaced, requiring a modication of the
law. Tired of the courts seemingly slow pace, Abregos attorneys
led an appeal with the Supreme Court to have the case dismissed.
To argue their point they cited the fact that Mara Barrera was a reg-
istered obstetrician and was fully aware of the risks associated with
any medical procedure. Further, Abrego could never have initiated
an abortion, since as a medical doctor he was prevented from doing
so by a code of ethics. Barreras wounds were caused, they added, by
the operation to save her life. In any case, they concluded, Barrera
could have accidentally self-aborted, since her family said that she
was prone to heavy menstrual cycles. In effect Abregos attorneys laid
the entire blame for Barreras death on Barrera herself. To counter
the defense, prosecutors cast Abrego as dishonest and said that he
never intended to marry Barrera, since he had promised her a reli-
gious ceremony and that was impossible given his previous mar-
riage to Ledesma.49
The Supreme Court, however, refused to drop charges. Abrego
remained in prison until late spring 1899, when medical experts nally
nished their lengthy investigation. The central question was whether
an abortion had been committed and by whom. It took three separate
medical commissions to nally arrive at the conclusion that it was
impossible to determine whether Abrego or Barrera had performed
the abortion. The only other person who could answer that ques-
tion was dead. Therefore, the judge decided that Barrera had died of
natural causes and ordered Abrego freed on May 4, 1899. However,
Abrego found his reputation permanently damaged. Not only did the
doctor lose his practice and his membership in the Pedro Escobedo
Society, but he also lost his army commission. Undaunted, Abrego
sued El Imparcial for sixty thousand pesos, claiming that the news-
paper had ruined his ten-year career and had deprived him of future
revenue from his medical practice. However, the doctor lost his case;
subsequently, he disappeared from history.50
Victims of Modernity
In the summer of 1908 Bonifacio Reyes and his son Encarnacin
were cleaning an intake tube in Mexico Citys main sewage-collec-
tion point in the northeastern section of the capital when a sudden
downpour ooded the sewer, carrying them away. Father and son
were later found dead, oating in the fetid canal that passed by the
penitentiary in San Lzaro. Both men, it seemed, had fallen victim
to one of the greatest construction projects of the Porrian age, the
construction and completion of Mexico Citys sewage and drainage
system. Intended to purify the capital of waste and polluted ood-
water, the network instead claimed two livestwo more casualties
of modernity.51
In a similar fashion Mara Barrera had fallen victim to modernitys
grasp, for the abortion she died from clearly had a modern aspect. She,
like Bonifacio and Encarnacon, became entangled in the bowels of
the underworld. The case of Federico Abrego and Mara Barrera clearly
underscores the importance the Porrian elite placed on the idea of
modernity. As members of both the middle class and the emerg-
ing eld of professional medicine, Abrego and Barrera were bene-
ciaries and practitioners of the elites efforts to forge a society based
on scientic progress. However, Abregos actions, and by extension
Barreras own fatal irtation with illicit sex, undermined elite faith
in the moral superiority of Porrian-inspired progress. In the end the
messengers of modernity became caught in the very underworld of
lth and decay that their social superiors condemned.
As Porrian elites pondered the case and its dangerous implica-
tions for scientic progress, they were still reeling from an incident
in the previous year. During the September 16, 1897, military parade
that commemorated the independence of Mexico, a lone man, sym-
bol of the disorder that threatened the city and personied the under-
world, publicly assaulted the architect of order and progress. Like
the La Profesa robbery, the case of Arnulfo Arroyo would have lasting
consequences for the nation and would shake the very foundations
of the government.
6
Politics, Corruption, and the Arnulfo Arroyo Affair
Our teacher says you are a good ruler, that you have done much for
the people of Mexico.Efe Willery (schoolgirl from the United States), in
a letter to Porrio Daz, 1898
the ar nulfo a rro y o ca s e is undoubtedly one of Porrian

Mexico Citys most striking episodes. On September 16, 1897, a so-
cial outcast from the middle class, Arnulfo Arroyo, assaulted Presi-
dent Porrio Daz during a military parade in downtown Mexico
City. Arroyo did not live long to glory in his action. On the night after
the assault, police, disguised as members of the citys underclass,
entered the cell in police headquarters where Arroyo was being held
and stabbed him to death. The ensuing scandal saw the arrest of the
assassins and the alleged suicide of the chief inspector of police,
Eduardo Velzquez, over his role in the affair. It also saw the truth
revealed: the underworld and the police had become indistinguish-
able. When newspapers revealed that Arroyos murder had been or-
dered by Vlasquez, a political scandal ensued that shook the regime
to the core. Yet questions remain unanswered to this day regarding
an event that still inspires commentary in Mexico.1 Did the assault
represent an actual assassination attempt, perhaps engineered by
ministers planning a coup detat? Or was it the desperate action of
a deranged and lone drunk? And what exactly happened to Eduardo
Velzquez? Did he commit suicide? Or was he murdered?
To probe these questions it is necessary to rst understand the
nature of the Mexico City police at the end of the nineteenth century.
As we have seen, the capitals police forces could be efcient and
ruthless in dealing with perceived threats to public order. Employing
dragnets, torture, and informants, the police effectively dealt with
the persons behind the Brilanti and the La Profesa robberies. Yet this
was only one side of the coin. Contemporary critics and the general
population widely regarded the Porrian police and the politicians
that controlled them as corrupt. And as we shall see, this corruption
gured prominently in how the Arnulfo Arroyo case developed.
Como Mxico no hay dos . . .

Criticism of the regime generally avoided direct attacks on Daz but
instead focused on institutions such as local government and police
forces.2 Mexico Citys police was a tempting target. Despite success-
es like La Profesa, the capitals police force suffered from a general
perception of incompetence and brutality, perceptions reinforced by
the actions of a few. This must have been frustrating to the regimes
strongest supporters, who desired above all else to improve the citys
image and modernize the police, not just with new weapons, but with
a credo that t the overall goals of order and progress.
These efforts went back many years. By Hispanic tradition the police
were dened as a good order that observes and guards the cities and
republic, obeying the laws and ordinances established for its well-
being. In the colonial era the viceregal authority was the source of
police power; after independence the role of the police gained greater
importance, especially in the capital. Public celadores, or watchmen,
patrolled the city streets under the supervision of the city council.
Eventually, the district governor and the president assumed greater
control over the Mexico City police.3
This development transformed the capitals police force into an
extension of ofcial Porrian policies, especially those dealing with
urban control. Posted strategically in sensitive areas, the Porrian
police increasingly assumed a role akin to that of a colonial security
156 Politics, Corruption, and the Arnulfo Arroyo Affair
force, watchful of unrest in impoverished sectors. This policy had
roots in the French Intervention, when imperial ofcials created eight
police precincts and a commissioner to go along with each. The Jurez
administrations project to create a rural police unit, the Rurales,
was paralleled by efforts to further organize the Mexico City security
force. In 1877 Porrio Daz reorganized the capitals police force
and appointed political supporters to oversee vital posts, including
General Luis Carballeda as inspector general, obviously reecting the
importance the role would have in maintaining national security.4
Dazs reorganization seemed to work, but ordinary citizens soon
complained that the police were the same inept, ignorant, and des-
potic organization as before. Some citizens even resorted to hiring
their own private security forces. A subsequent reorganization in 1878
also did not work. Finally, Daz, by order of a presidential decree
dated June 23, 1879, re-created the gendarmera municipal, calling for
eight companies of one hundred men. The administration enacted
new codes to prevent police abuse and weed out lazy ofcers. A new
blue uniform, complete with a baton and a revolver, English style,
replaced the old machete and gray clothing. In addition all ofcers
were to be free of vices. The link between morality and profession-
alism was established. Police performance improved dramatically,
but criticisms immediately resurfaced, the principal accusation being
abusive behavior. However, Daz had accomplished his mission. If
the police were too harsh on the common people, so much the bet-
ter, the dictator thought.5
Old habits were hard to change, though. In the capital people accused
the police of being incapable of understanding their mission. One
newspaper critic labeled them the refuge of the bored ones. Another
newspaper ran an article titled Gendarmes or Porteros? referring
to the common sight of police ofcers relaxing in doorways. In fact
many unemployed men had two choices: police work or crime. Some
applicants could barely spell their names. Critics also complained that
ofcers were usually ineffectual in preventing crime. One observer
lamented that robbery on trains was so common that you needed a
hundred eyes to watch your belongings. The perception that crime
was increasing was closely tied to public opinion that the police were
Politics, Corruption, and the Arnulfo Arroyo Affair 157
incapable of controlling the city. Even neighboring cities such as Puebla
felt the increasing pressures of modernity. For instance, the editors
of the Poblano paper El Resumen lamented the growing bravado of
common thieves, who took great pleasure in robbing items of high
value from respected citizens and even city ofcials. The newspaper
noted that in the past thieves would have restricted their crimes to
robbing the poor of their generally useless objects, but times had
changed. As could be expected, critics blamed the indifferent police
for the rise in crime, but the elected authorities who hired the lazy
ofcers also got some blame. It was better, the narrative continued,
to ll the police ranks with honorable individuals.6
Honorable individuals? Mexicans believed this to be an impossible
task. Porrian newspapers fulminated at the apparent lack of morals
perceived in police ofcers, who were routinely arrested for abusive
behavior. To maintain a semblance of professionalism, ofcials in
charge regularly admonished their men to respect all rights, not to
mistreat drunks, to respect public morality, and of course to avoid
sleeping in doorways. In Puebla the city council published a regula-
tions handbook, encouraging supervisors to read these guidelines to
their men. Among other things police were instructed to diligently
search for criminals, to investigate and solve crimes, and to police
themselves when carrying out their duties. Local newspapers chimed
in, stating that if a citizen believed the police had broken the law, he
or she was urged to write the editors and complain. The problem
was, very few poor persons could write or cared to risk their lives
denouncing abusive ofcers.7
The complaints were seemingly endless. Critics labeled ofcers
who took protection money from merchants gendarmes picudos.
Merchants grumbled but generally agreed that paying the ofcial for
protection was better para estar bien con el (to be on his good side).
Police ofcers were sometimes brutal when it came to enforcing the
law, as we saw in a previous chapter. Often it did not matter that the
accused were innocent. In one incident that took place during a circus
performance in Mexico City, a thief stole a watch from a gentleman.
The ladrn (thief ) escaped, but another individual blamed an innocent
for the crime. Two ofcers promptly pummeled the man. El Fandango,
a Mexico City newspaper, labeled this incident Justice of the Club.
Another editorial stated that Mexico City police did not distinguish
between victimizer and victim; all were the same. In police eyes, the
editorial stated, there were only two classes of people: those who
deserved respect because of their social position and everyone else.
Torture allegations abounded. Some suspects were even known to
die in custody. Although many ofcers escaped censure, a few made
their way to Beln, where, media critics fumed, they found plenty of
company in the presence of other jailed ofcers and generally did as
they pleasedwhich included, among other things, drinking, play-
ing cards, and consorting with prostitutes.8
Unruly ofcers chiey preyed on the urban poor. For instance, on
October 29, 1895, Mara Dolores Robles, a thirty-two-year-old wid-
ow, led a formal complaint charging that a police ofcer, Francisco
Castaeda, had kidnapped and raped her thirteen-year-old daugh-
ter, Mara Carmen Flores. The case revealed some previous tensions
between Robles and Castaeda, tensions that hinted at the wider world
of police-civilian relations. Apparently, Castaeda had tried on at least
one prior occasion to kidnap the girl, but her mother had intervened.
In another incident Francisco Gonzlez, Robless common-law hus-
band, confronted Castaeda and demanded to know if his intentions
toward Mara Carmen were honorable. After Castaeda replied yes,
Gonzlez refused to believe him, citing that he was not the type of man
who would make a good husband. Perhaps Gonzlez implied that
Castaneda, a police ofcer, was not to be trusted. This possibility is
also hinted at in a letter that Castaeda wrote to the young girl, asking
her to come with him and assuring her that another ofcer and his
girlfriend would hide them. Castaeda also told Mara Carmen that
she had to tell the authorities that she loved him (in order to avoid a
rape charge) and that the entire affair was all her idea.9
The case was never resolved. Castaeda wrote a series of letters to
Mara Carmen that were never answered, but Robles did not pursue
her complaint and the charges were dismissed. Yet here we can see
how police ofcers used each other to shield themselves from pos-
sible legal repercussions. Castaeda could obviously use his knowl-
edge of the law and his network of friends to evade possible arrest,
and quite possibly he did. He even boldly told Gonzlez that if he and
Robles somehow managed to hide Mara Carmen, he would nd her,
and nothing could stop him.10
Although the Castaeda case does not present overwhelming evi-
dence for the existence of a policemans secret code, it does indicate
that police ofcers were not entirely ignorant of the law, despite what
some editors alleged. Mexico Citys nest could band together if the
situation called for it. Further, police ofcers on the street were an
extension of a political machine that reached to the top. We have seen
how Daz took a personal interest in at least one case and how gov-
ernment prosecutors used the threat of crime to dictate against the
poor. The administrative hierarchy that ran the Mexico City police
was responsive to pressure; it was aware that a lot was at stake and
would go to great lengths to assure ofcial control of the streets or
at least guarantee the semblance of control.
These efforts could be brutal. In May 1894 Mexico City ofcials,
responding to a perceived wave of thieves that had reportedly descend-
ed on the capital, raised the penalty for petty thievery to two years
in prison. Police ofcers rounded up hundreds of supposed petty
thieves and jailed them in Beln. These prisoners and others who had
previously been arrested for minor crimes were soon contracted out
against their will to the Valle Nacional in Oaxaca, a sort of Porrian
gulag where they would labor under tropical conditions in haciendas.
Individual ofcers were nancially rewarded based on the number
of poor souls they grabbed off the streets.11
Thus the Porrian regime cultivated a powerful image of itself,
mindful of the importance foreign investors attached to law and order.
Although government ofcials did not actively plant stories that high-
lighted the exploits of the police, they were not averse to their publi-
cation by travelers who were impressed by the governments efforts
to stamp out crime. Dispelling traditional images of Mexico as a land
overrun by bandits, A Gringo, an anonymous British traveler who
visited Mexico in the early 1880s, described one incident in which he
witnessed a member of Mexico Citys secret police shoot a man in the
leg, allegedly because the man had snatched an ofcers hat. The Briton
described how the ofcer then walked over and said to the injured
thief, Ill trouble you for my hat.12 Such stories, of course, reinforced
the notoriety of the countrys police forces, making it seem that Daz
had rescued the republic from criminality in 1876. Travelers, perhaps
impressed by Porrian efciency, commented that the Mexico City
police were arrogant and prone to arrest anyone, even foreigners.13
The language was often very descriptive. One traveler stated, in the
old days bandits had been thicker than ies.14 Of course such crimi-
nal threats were impossible under don Porrios stern rule.15
Arnulfo Arroyo
For Daz the presence of police on Mexico Citys important streets and
in its colonias augmented his ofcial policy of displaying symbols of
the governments power for public consumption. Daz utilized patri-
otic festivals, monuments, and displays of force to fashion a cultural
topography of power that helped guarantee a positive image for his
regime both at home and abroad. Throughout this study we have
seen how government writers, prosecutors, newspapers, and even
ordinary citizens employed powerful discourses to dene the exis-
tence of a criminal underworld. By creating this narrative Porrians
helped craft a national identity that emphasized law and order as well
as moral propriety. The deployment of police forces complemented
this process. But what happened when the process was threatened by
the very actions of the government that created it in the rst place?
To nd the answer to this question, we return to September 16,
1897. On this day Mexico City was festooned, as usual, with ban-
ners celebrating Mexican independence. Visitors from throughout
the country and the world were guaranteed a public spectacle that
reinforced the ofcial message of national progress. Moreover, the
holiday carried an even more important message: during the 1890s
it became effectively merged with Dazs birthday on the fteenth.
As a result Daz became the living symbol of the Mexican nation and
the citys technological achievements, such as streetcars and electric
lighting, physical signs of a new, better age. As crowds cheered their
favorite bullghters in the Plaza de Toros and more cosmopolitan
citizens enjoyed operas in fashionable theaters such as the Teatro
Nacional, Daz, as was his custom on Independence Day, began a
walk from the National Palace to the Alameda to review a military
parade and hand out medals to war veterans, another spectacle that
guaranteed the presidents link with Mexicos past. On this day the
Alameda, a long stretch of green lawns, ower beds, and shade trees,
became the site of a memorable incident.16
If Daz symbolized all that was right with late nineteenth-century
Mexico, Arnulfo Arroyo represented the dispossessed and disrup-
tive element that frequented the capital. Thirty years of age, Arroyo,
a native of Mexico City, was the educated son of a local tailor. After
abandoning a military career due to ill discipline, he drifted into the
study of law and earned a reputation as a social climber. He also became
notorious as a troublemaker in the many cantinas he frequented. In
one quarrel with a certain butcher, Jess Ortiz, he shot him in the left
arm. Ortiz had to undergo an amputation, no doubt hindering his
ability to carve select choice cuts. A jury acquitted Arroyo of the charge,
thanks in part to his legal training. In another public incident, which
took place in July 1890, Arroyo accosted an attorney, Moises Rojas,
as the latter was leaving the Teatro Nacional. Rojas led a complaint
stating that he feared for his life, but Arroyo laughed off the incident,
claiming he would never hurt Rojas. Moreover, Arroyo reportedly
almost killed a woman and often quarreled with prostitutes. He also
forged his fathers signature, eventually leading the elder Arroyo to
bankruptcy. Before his encounter with Daz and destiny, the obvi-
ously dangerous Arroyo worked as a notary and relaxed as a drunk on
the streets. He did not exactly portray the image of a man politically
motivated or economically driven to assault Daz.17
Arroyo did, however, signify the danger that could befall mem-
bers of Mexico Citys middle class. Unlike the men who killed don
Toms Hernndez Aguirre or those who haunted the pulqueras
of La Bolsa, Arroyo was educated. He had more in common with
Luis Yzaguirre and Federico Abrego than with Francisco Guerrero.
Ironically, in the days and months after the incident that would cost
him his life, Arroyo would become a sort of folk hero among the
urban poor, immortalized in corridos that would be, no doubt, sung
in the very cantinas that he had once patronized. In a sense Arroyo
was a living symbol of the same discourse that prosecutors had
used so effectively to send Francisco Guerrero to jail and condemn
an entire population.
In an inebriated haze Arroyo attacked Daz in an incident that
unfolded quickly. Daz, anked by his ministers and escorted by the
Chapultepec cadets of the National Military Academy, approached the
Alameda on the morning of September 16. As the entourage entered
the park from the south, Arroyo leaped out of a crowd of spectators,
quickly forced his way through the escort, and struck Daz on the back
of his neck with his hand, knocking the presidents hat off. Daz did
not fall and was unhurt, but his escort reacted quickly. Commodore
Ortiz Monasterio and General Agustn Pradillo, members of the entou-
rage, both struggled with the assailant as he attempted to strike Daz
again. Before Arroyo could act, Pradillo felled him with a blow. Other
members of the escort then seized the assailant, some with weapons
drawn. Arroyo, who had been drinking since the previous day, shouted
Yo soy muy Hombre! as the escort pounced on him. Military guards
quickly took Arroyo to army headquarters. Daz appeared unshaken
by the incident and exclaimed to the guards that no harm should
come to Arroyo so that justice could be served.18
As Daz continued on his way to the medal ceremony, soldiers led
Arroyo, his hands bound together by the leather thongs of military
clubs, through side streets. As he traveled along the public surface,
crowds shook their sts at him, while street riffraff followed closely
behind. These angry public demonstrations proved harmless, for
Arroyo safely arrived in army headquarters, where a judge briey inter-
rogated him. Police inspector general Eduardo Velzquez then arrived
and ordered Arroyos transfer to police headquarters in the Municipal
Palace, located on the south side of the Zocalo.19
Rumors spread throughout the city that Daz had been shot six
times or stabbed. There was even a report that a bomb had killed the
president, along with three hundred others. In a statement shortly
after his arrest, Arroyo said he had acted out of opposition to the cur-
rent form of government, preferring another model such as monar-
chy. When he saw Daz, a sudden urge had overcome him and he had
acted on his desire. As for the president, the incident only increased
his popularity. Daz received choruses of adulation from high-ranking
government ofcials, while telegrams from throughout the country
and the world poured in. United States president William McKinley,
ironically to be assassinated four years later almost to the day, was
one of the rst leaders to congratulate Daz. In addition the Roman
Catholic Church ordered all dioceses to hold ceremonies giving thanks
that the alleged assassin had not killed the president. While Daz
was basking in praise, Arroyo sat in Velzquezs ofce, strapped in
a straitjacket. Unknown to Arroyo, a plot was forming in Velzquezs
mind that would have fatal consequences.20
Secrets and Lies

Eduardo Velzquez cut a romantic gure and was known to frequent
the capitals social circles. Manuel Romero Rubio, Dazs father-in-
law, had rst appointed Velzquez as inspector to the Federal District.
When Velzquez discovered administrative irregularities, he won presi-
dential favor and was appointed police chief in May 1897, replacing
General Luis Carballeda, who took on a position as commander of the
Fifth Military Zone. The press happily reported on the transition, stat-
ing that it hoped Velzquez would dedicate all his strength to make
notable contributions to the police force and reform it. Perhaps the
notion of sudden power affected Velzquez, for after his ascendancy
rumors spread of the frequent use of torture at police headquarters.
For example, newspapers accused the inspector of having Manuel
Tortolero, a priest, killed for interfering in Velzquezs personal life.
Apparently, Tortolero counseled a girl with whom Velzquez had been
involved, to stop seeing the inspector. Velzquez resented the interfer-
ence and allegedly lured Tortolero to his house, forced him to drink
large amounts of alcohol, and then reportedly set him free on the
streets to die of exposure. Now in his grasp was Arroyo, failed assas-
sin. Velzquez surmised the situation and decided to act.21
On the evening of September 16 police subjected Arroyo to sev-
eral hours of intermittent questioning. Then, after midnight, a vio-
lent mob entered the municipal ofces and soon found the assailant.
Overpowering two unarmed guards, the crowd shouted vivas to Daz
and Mexico and stabbed Arroyo to death in a wild frenzy, eeing after-
ward. One guard, Mauro Snchez, red several pistol shots into the
air as the mob rushed away. The commotion attracted onlookers, who
entered the palace unhindered. Once inside, police arrested some of
the curious and charged them with Arroyos death.22
The resulting scene resembled a charnel house. Arroyo, sprawled
in the middle of the ofce, had been brutally hacked. At least nine
fatal knife wounds showed through the blood-soaked straitjacket.
The depth of the punctures even surprised the coroner who examined
the body. The two guards present in the room during the attack were
also injured. Antonio Milanes had stab wounds over the left eye and
the left hand, while Mauro Snchez, curiously, received only bruises.
The police arrested twenty-one bystanders for the crime, including a
newspaper reporter, a railway conductor, a young boy, a roast-chicken
vendor, and a lame man.23
The bystanders arrested in the hour after Arroyos death all shared
one characteristic: they were victims of the standard police sweep.
Some, such as Manuel Maya and Silvestre Macias, were detained as
they passed or sat nearby when the assault occurred. Others, such
as Abel Torres, were curious and had gone to investigate the com-
motion. The unfortunate Torres had just left work and was passing
by police headquarters when he heard the shots. A friend, who inci-
dentally was a reporter, persuaded Torres to go have a look. As they
approached the building, an unnamed ofcial motioned them inside.
Torres had a bad feeling, but his friend persuaded him otherwise.
As soon as the curious pair entered the rst room, agents detained
them and charged them with the murder. One of the ofcers recog-
nized the reporter and let him go, however, though they kept Torres
under arrest. Some of the bystanders were even acquainted with top
police ofcials. For example, don Manuel Rivera Mutio was return-
ing from a theater performance when he passed through the palaces
portals. The notorious Miguel Cabrera, a conspirator in the crime,
spotted Rivera and told him Pase, Manuelito, Pase. Rivera entered
and was immediately detained. He protested to Cabrera, but the agent
ignored him and then accused him of being a nobody. Rivera was
so incensed that he hurled an insult at Cabrera. As he was led to his
cell, he passed Velzquez, who told him not to worry since he would
be released in a few hours. He was not.24
The detainees spent three days in jail, the maximum time allowed
for prisoners not ofcially charged with a crime. After seventy-two
hours prosecutors had to le charges or release them, which they
did, citing a lack of evidence. Naturally, the entire incident created a
furor. Rumors began to circulate throughout the capital in the next
few days, despite ofcial reports that the lynch mob had originated
entirely from among the common classes. How could a mob, one
newspaper asked, composed entirely of average citizens have entered
police headquarters and murdered a prisoner? Why did police trans-
fer Arroyo to the Municipal Palace from military headquarters? Why,
another reporter asked, were both of Arroyos guards unarmed? When
Eduardo Velzquez resigned his post on September 18 and was tak-
en to Beln, along with Miguel Cabrera, head of the so-called secret
police, and ofcer Mauro Snchez, more questions were raised. The
connection to the Arroyo murder seemed obvious, but the exact tie
was as yet unknown. Government ofcials, including Francisco Z.
Mena, secretary of communications, and Jos Yves Limantour, nance
minister, asked Daz to order a full investigation. At a private meet-
ing, despite a defense of Velzquez offered by secretary of the interior
Manuel Gonzlez Coso and secretary of war Felipe Berriozbal, Daz
ordered Velzquezs arrest as well as that of the other alleged con-
spirators. He did so after Mena told him that word on the street was
that Daz had personally ordered Arroyos execution. Don Porrio
would have none of those reports. By this time the government was
aware that Velzquez and several police ofcers had been involved
with the lynching. For the good of the Porriato, the police chief was
sacked and placed at the mercy of the judicial system. The bystanders
originally arrested were ordered released, and all eyes now focused
solely on Velzquez and his assumed collaborators.25
Abruptly, Eduardo Velzquez confessed to ordering the death of
Arroyo, saying he had acted out of intense admiration for Daz. Cndido
Cullar, Velzquezs personal servant and another suspect, confessed
that his employer had ordered him to purchase a dozen knives on
September 16, shortly after the incident in the Alameda. Cullar had
bought the knives and delivered them to Velzquez, who had per-
sonally inspected them. Further, ofcer Heriberto Estrada testied
that while returning from duty on the night of the murder, he heard
gunshots near the Municipal Palace. On investigating he discovered
a crowd of people rushing down a ight of stairs inside police head-
quarters. Estrada demanded to know who they were, and several per-
sons ashed him police badges. He let them pass and went to talk
to Inspector Cabrera, who appeared excited. When asked what had
happened, Cabrera said that a number of pelados had lynched a pris-
oner. At that moment Estrada noticed a man kicking out the glass in
a nearby window. He also noted the arrival of Antonio Villavicencio, a
high-ranking ofcer, to talk secretly with Cabrera. The secret-police
chief handed Estrada several bloody knives and told him to report the
incident to the secretary of war. When Estrada asked who had died,
Cabrera replied that Arnulfo Arroyo was dead.26
Other ofcers also reported suspicious behavior that night. Jess
Senz testied that he was about to go on duty when Cabrera stopped
him and asked him where he was going. Senz replied that he was
going out on his rounds. Cabrera replied: No. Tonight you dont go
out. Come with me. Cabrera ordered Senz to sit down against a wall.
He noticed that Cabrera and several other agents did the same, sitting
in their chairs or lying on their desks. After about an hour and a half,
ofcer Mauro Snchez asked Senz for his loaded pistol in exchange
for an empty gun. Senz complied without question. A short while
later Senz heard several loud noises. He bolted out of his chair, while
Cabrera turned to him and the other agents and shouted orders for
them to follow. As Senz ran down the hall, he saw several individu-
als exit the building, all of them wearing sarapes, blankets frequently
worn by rural Mexicans. Senz managed to catch up with one of the
individuals and grabbed him, pointing a gun to his chest and shout-
ing, Who am I talking to? At this moment Cabrera ran up beside
him and told him, Dont kill him, hes a police ofcer! Senz let the
man go and tried to enter the main police ofces, but an unnamed
individual wearing a charro (Mexican cowboy) uniform stopped him.
Senz later remembered that the man was Antonio Villavicencio. Senz
then spotted a bloodied knife at the foot of a stairwell. He picked it
up and found himself staring at Villavicencio again. When the of-
cial asked what was going on, Senz responded that he did not know.
Senz returned upstairs and saw several harmless-looking persons
being escorted by gendarmes. He concluded by saying that when
Snchez returned the pistol, all the bullets had been red.27
Antonio Milanes, one of Arroyos guards whom police arrested and
later released, declared that Adjutant Snchez had buckled on his saber
moments before speaking to Velzquez, who had arrived to confer
with Cabrera and Snchez. This was unusual, Milanes said, because
ofcers on duty rarely wore their sabers. Further, Snchez took away
Milaness gun. The suspicious ofcer also noticed that when the mob
broke into the room, they did not immediately threaten Snchez,
who had retreated onto a balcony. One assassin, however, attacked
Milanes but stopped when a voice cried out that he should leave the
police alone. After the attack an injured Milanes ran down the stairs
and encountered Velzquez, Cabrera, Villavicencio, and other of-
cers, who seemed to be conferring among themselves.28
The government identied six additional ofcers, all from District
Four, who had been directly involved in the lynching, ordering
their arrest. These were Manuel Bellido, Ignacio Pardav, Francisco
Huinzardt, Arcadio Seplveda, Sabino Vazquez, and Vicente Noriega.
Perhaps the most sensational arrest, after that of Velzquez, was of
Miguel Cabrera, second in command of the secret police. Ofcials
detained Cabrera when he arrived at police headquarters a few
days after the lynching. Cabrera was well known in police and
government circles, having worked several important cases dur-
ing the 1890s, among them the Piedad Ontiveros murder and the
La Profesa robbery. He was not the last ofcer detained. Among
those arrested last were Genevevo Uribe, Antonio Cervantes, and
Antonio Villavicenio.29
The magnitude of the arrests shocked Mexico City and the world. The
media had a eld day. El Popular labeled the Mexican police as dishon-
orable, vicious, disrespectful, and lacking intelligence. Other Mexican
papers criticized the police and the government as well. Reports also
surfaced in some papers that the Arroyo affair had been part of a failed
coup attempt. However, government ofcials in Mexico and abroad
dismissed the idea of a plot against Daz. The U.S. minister to Mexico,
Powell Clayton, led a report on the incident rejecting the idea of a
conspiracy against the Mexican president because, in Claytons opin-
ion, Arroyo had not been armed with a deadly weapon.30
The Arroyo affair did not end with the arrests of the conspirators
but took on new life on September 24, when Eduardo Velzquez com-
mitted suicide in his luxurious cell in Beln. His death generated
considerable speculation and raised even more questions. Witnesses
reported that on the night before the suicide, Velzquez had seemed
tired, no doubt from the cross-examination by ofcials investigat-
ing the lynching. The former chief retired early. Around 10:30 the
following morning, Judge Carlos Flores sent word that he wished to
speak with the former chief. A guard went to the prisoners room and
tried to wake Velzquez but without success. The former inspector
had a reputation as a late sleeper, and the ofcer did not think much
of it. He approached the bed, repeating his request, then lifted the
sheet and observed blood. Quickly realizing what had happened, the
guard summoned prison ofcials, an attorney, and Judge Flores. An
investigation concluded that Velzquez had committed suicide by a
single gunshot to the head. The weapon, a .38 caliber British-made
Hale pistol, was found near the body. Ofcials identied the weapon
as one of four owned by Velzquez. Strangely, no one had heard the
guns loud report, though several attorneys were near Velzquezs
cell during the evening. Investigators theorized that Velzquez had
placed the gun tightly against his temple, mufing the gunshot. A
marked indentation on his temple near the wound seemed to sup-
port this theory, but given the intrigue surrounding the case, that
possibility remained unproven.31
Velzquez died in a cell that was unlike most in Beln. His room
actually belonged to the prison directors suite. It had a piano, four
chairs, a bed, a desk, a small library, a bureau, and a bust of Daz. That
last object must have tormented the former chief of police. Overlooking
the bed were two oil paintings. One depicted a condemned man walk-
ing to his execution, while the other portrayed the death of the same
man in front of a ring squad. A commentary in El Popular sarcasti-
cally noted that Velzquez must have agonized over the scenes in
the paintings. They may have prodded him, the paper added, to end
his life. One interesting sidenote occurred when ofcials searched
Velzquezs ofce desk and found several vials containing poison.
Rumors abounded that a police ofcer who had recently died of poi-
soning had known intimate details of Velzquezs involvement in
the death of Father Tortolero. Perhaps there was more to Velsquez
than was publicly known.32
Before his untimely suicide, Velzquez revealed bits and pieces
about his mind-set the day of the attack on Daz. The former chief
claimed that before the incident on the Alameda, he had heard several
rumors about a possible attempt on the presidents life, perhaps by
anarchists. Velzquez recalled that he had been near the Alameda when
the assault occurred. Afterward, he went to see whether the president
was all right and was told by a cabinet ofcial to take Arroyo from
military headquarters and place him under police custody, which he
did. No one questioned his decision.33
It was well known that the inspector was a fervent admirer of Daz.
In statements to ofcials, Velzquez said that after the assault the
military judge, Generoso Guerrero, reportedly told him that Arroyo
would probably get two to four years in prison. Velzquez could not
accept this and reportedly said, I will not hand that man over to the
judges. The chief also alleged that high-ranking government of-
cials had expressed unhappiness with the incident and had inferred
that Arroyo should die, since the drunk had tried to kill the president.
Further, Velzquez reportedly told others that the attempt on Dazs
life deserved swift and sure punishment, but the idea of killing Arroyo
was entirely his, so there was no upper-level conspiracy. He wanted
Arroyo dead, whether by assassination, lynching, or ley fuga [the
practice of shooting prisoners after arrest and claiming they were
shot trying to escape].34
Further details appeared that cast a shadow of intrigue and contro-
versy over the suicide. Some reports pointed out that Velzquez had
left a suicide note, blaming his conduct for having ruined his life but
also suggesting that he had ordered Arroyos murder at the sugges-
tion of another, since he was incapable of committing the crime on
his own. According to another report, an additional note found near
the body said, Eduardo, here is the pistol. Witnesses to the scene
reported that Velzquez looked serene, almost as if he had died in his
sleep. The government ofcially ruled the death a suicide.35
Eduardo Velzquez, who was to marry Carlota Ricoy on November 4
of the same year, was buried in Tepeyac Cemetery. A reporter managed
to sneak into the private funeral service at the mortuary and noticed
a mysterious woman in black mourning over the body. Later, at the
grave site, the same woman placed a trinket over Velzquezs heart
and deposited the wrapped remains of the late inspector generals
father at the feet of the corpse. Witnesses noticed that the mysterious
woman could hardly stand due to her sorrow.36
Velzquezs death haunted don Porrio. The late police chief had
been a model reformer. The Porrian inner circle was especially worried
that the entire scandal would tarnish Mexicos international image.
Mexicos diplomatic corps, perhaps acting on orders from the presi-
dent, sent back newspaper clippings and reports on how the incident
was being perceived in foreign capitals. The only critical items appear
to have come from New York City papers, obviously no strangers to
sensationalistic news stories. The New York Journal, for instance, hinted
at a larger plot and noted that in the days surrounding both deaths,
several of Dazs ministers had offered to resign, but the dictator had
refused to accept the offers.37
The Conspiracy
Despite allegations of a larger plot, it was certain that Velzquez
had headed a small cabal of ofcers that had successfully silenced
Arroyo. Rumors swirled around the capital. The trial, which began on
November 15, 1897, did not silence speculation but may have encour-
aged more. Indeed, the tale woven by the police conspirators was a
fascinating one. Antonio Villavicencio, one of the most well-known
ofcers, readily confessed his guilt but said he had acted under orders
from Velzquez, who gave the impression that he was following a
higher directive. Further, Villavicencio said that he had participated
out of fear of losing his job and being left out in the streets, where he
would have been at the mercy of his numerous enemies. Villavicencio
added that on the night of September 16, he went to see Velzquez to
deliver a routine report when he found the inspector chatting with sev-
eral men, including a certain Octaviano Liceaga and Manuel Bellido,
a police ofcer. Liceaga then told Villavicencio about the attempt on
Dazs life. After a few minutes Liceaga and several others left, leav-
ing Velzquez, Villavicencio, and Bellido in the inspectors ofce.
Villavicencio asked for permission to retire, but Velzquez said no.
The three men then went outside the building, boarded a coach, and
discussed a plan to kill Arroyo. The conversation between the police
chief and Villavicencio, with Bellido listening, went something like
this:
Velzquez: Do you have people you can trust?

Villavicencio: Yes, as always.
Velzquez: Its necessary to kill him [Arroyo].
Villavicencio: By whose orders?
Velzquez: That I cannot say.
Villavicencio: Have you planned this out thoroughly??
Velzquez: Whats missing is the men . . . bring them fast!38
Velzquez then reportedly handed his subordinate several knives and

told him to get to work. Sometime later Villavicencio returned with
several men, left them under Velzquezs command, and took a walk.
When he returned, Arroyo was dead.39
Other conspirators told their story. Manuel Bellido admitted
advance knowledge of the murder but denied taking any active part
in it, assuring the court he tried to dissuade Velzquez. The inspec-
tor repeatedly pressed him to take part in the lynching, he said, but
he refused. Velzquez then told him not to talk to anyone about the
conversation. The chief of the secret police, Miguel Cabrera, stated
that he was asleep during the lynching and denied any knowledge of
the murder. Candido Cullar, Velzquezs trusted assistant, contra-
dicted Cabreras statement, conrming that he had bought several
knives for Velzquez and delivered them personally to the inspector
with Cabrera present. The sentry on duty that night, Luis G. Bravo,
testied that Velzquez told him to go to Plateros Street that night
to meet with him. When Bravo arrived at the appointed destination,
Velzquez feigned surprise and told the guard to go have dinner. Thus
he was not present when the mob killed Arroyo.40
Ignacio Pardavs testimony caused the greatest sensation at the trial.
Pardav testied that on the night of September 16 Villavicencio had
told him and several other ofcers to kill Arroyo or, in more colorful
terms, Que le dieran agua. Villavicencio, Pardav said, gave them
specic instructions to follow. First, their blows had to be rm and
certain. Second, they were to shout vivas to Daz and mueras (death)
to anarchism. Third, they were to break windows to simulate a mob
action. Villavicencio guaranteed their safety, because Arroyos guards
would be unarmed and Mauro Snchez was expecting them. Finally, he
told them not to panic if they heard gunshots. Pardav carried out his
orders as directed, pushing Arroyo to the oor while his companions
jutted their knives into the hapless victim. Pardav, however, added
that he did not stab Arroyo, preferring to watch instead. Finally, as
his comrades nished their dirty work, Pardav swore that he heard
a voice from behind him say, Nobody leaves without stabbing the
prisoner.41
Unlike previous criminal trials, the Arnulfo Arroyo case angered
people from Mexico Citys underclass, who saw Arroyo as a kindred
spirit and the police as murderers. Perhaps the case gave many ordi-
nary Mexicans who had suffered police brutality an opportunity to
vent their anger. Throughout the trial crowds had tried to gain access
to the courtroom, eager to hear the lurid tales of police misconduct.
Guards had prevented all but invited guests to enter the courtroom, but
on November 19 a dim-witted guard admitted a man who claimed he
was a juror. As the door opened, dozens of people rushed in. Several
people were crushed and various windows were broken as working-
class Mexicans invaded the courtroom. Guards reacted immediate-
ly, violently restraining the mob. The session was canceled, and the
prisoners were hastily led to El Diablo, the prison tram, which
was waiting outside. Amid shouts of Death to Villavicencio and
Assassins, the prisoners were placed aboard the car and led away
through a hail of rocks. Not all the accused were intimidated. Ofcer-
turned-prisoner Pardav deantly saluted the crowd, who grew even
more incensed at his insolent behavior. The ordeal was not over yet.
On its way to Beln the coach crashed into another streetcar, forcing
it off the tracks. The prisoners were taken off the train and escorted
by foot to the jail. A squad of soldiers, summoned by ofcials, com-
plemented the escort, protecting the prisoners from the anger of
the gente del pueblo. After they arrived the accused were led to their
cells, but they were afraid for their lives, as angry mobs surrounded
the prison, necessitating the removal of all internal security guards to
the main entrance and other vulnerable points. The situation grew so
dangerous that the prison administration, fearful of a general revolt,
called for more military reinforcements.42
The trial resumed the next day, the crowds having quieted down,
no doubt intimidated by the added security. The remaining police
ofcersFrancisco Huinzardt, Arcadio Seplveda, Sabino Vazquez,
and Vicente Noriegatestied, to some extent conrming Pardavs
testimony. Jos Mara Pavn, Pardavs attorney, defended his client
as well as the other accused, stating that the ofcers were victims of
orders they could not refuse. However, Pavn also labeled Arroyo as
a threat to the nation and cast the murder of the drunk as biblical jus-
tice. The testimony from the other attorneys was equally praisewor-
thy of the prisoners. Manuel Roa, defense attorney for Snchez and
Bellido, portrayed his clients as patriotic, good men. Bellido was so
moved by his attorneys depiction of his family that he cried and had to
be escorted out into the hall. Roa defended Snchez as a man wrong-
fully accused of a crime by an evil superior, Velzquez, who had also
insulted Snchez on the night of September 16. Roa stated that when
Velzquez ordered Snchez to call the district governors house and
inform him of the lynching, Snchez mistakenly dialed the presidents
house instead. Velzquez replied ni para eso sirven (even for that you
are all useless) and made the call himself. Other testimony and language
also demonized Velzquez, who of course could not defend himself.
Miguel Gmez, Villavicencios counsel, called the dead inspector an
ambitious criminal and a megalomaniac who had ordered Arroyos
death to elevate himself in the presidents eyes.43
The trial ended on November 23, 1897. After listening to the testi-
mony, the jury found Cullar and Bravo not guilty, setting them free.
However, the judge found Bellido guilty of covering up Arroyos murder
and sentenced him to eleven months imprisonment. The remaining
menPardav, Huinzardt, Seplveda, Vazquez, Noriega, Villavicencio,
and Cabrerawere all found guilty of conspiracy to commit murder.
When Judge Flores sentenced them to death, Villavicencio turned red
and bowed his head. Cabrera became pale with fright, while court
observers heard Noriega exclaim that if he had known this was going
to happen, he would have shot Velzquez himself. Their terror was
short lived, though, for the following March another court overturned
the sentences, imposing life imprisonment instead. In 1903 a new
trial freed all of the conspirators. In all three decisions the court buck-
led under political pressure. As for the top conspirators, Antonio
Villavicencio continued to serve in law enforcement, as did Miguel
Cabrera. The secret police ofcer, however, found himself exiled by
Daz to the city of Puebla, where he became police chief and was
known by the nickname Tarantula. On November 18, 1910, during
the incipient days of the Mexican Revolution, he was killed in a shoo-
tout with Aquiles Serdan. Cabrera was the rst Porrian ofcial to die
in the revolution. Belatedly, justice had found its mark.44
Despite the end of the trial, rumors of a high-level conspiracy con-
tinued to circulate in the capital. The ofcial government version
of events remained that Arroyo, acting alone and quite inebriated,
had assaulted Daz. Velzquez, motivated by greed and a desire for
advancement, had ordered Arroyos death in a conspiracy involv-
ing several police ofcers. This version was given some credence
by Arroyos past and Velzquezs reputation and seems plausible.
However, Italian journalist Carlo de Fornaro stated that government
ministers Manuel Gonzlez Coso and Felipe Berriozbal had planned
to kill Daz and install themselves in ofce. Since the two men con-
trolled the police and the army respectively, remaining in power would
be easy until they could consolidate their hold. To carry out the plot
they hired Velzquez, who in turn hired Arroyo to do the dirty work.
Interestingly, an Indian, Florencio Corts, had orders to kill Arroyo
on the street in an act made to look like public retribution. This part
of the coup failed, as did Arroyo in his attempt. Afraid of being dis-
covered, Velzquez placed Arroyo in a straitjacket, muzzled him, and
ordered his death. To add weight to Fornaros suspicions, a curious
development occurred during the trial. Villavicencio, under exami-
nation, mistakenly admitted that he, Velzquez, and Cabrera had
gone to Mesones Street in a cab. It was a dangerous statement, since
it was common knowledge that General Coso lived on that street.
Villavicencio retracted his statement. The next day the attorney who
had questioned him, Diodoro Battalla, was arrested on trumped-up
charges and incarcerated for a month.45
Fornaro also alleged that Judge Flores had stopped Velzquezs
confession the night before the suicide. Apparently Velzquez, feel-
ing cornered, had exclaimed aloud that he was prepared to tell the
whole truth. At this instant the judge acted, declaring that it was late
and the confession could wait. Of course Velzquez died that night. In
addition Fornaro questioned how Velzquez could have smuggled in
a gun despite being thoroughly searched by prison ofcials. Another
report surfaced, stating that Villavicencio had been talking with sev-
eral men in the prison before Velzquezs suicide and had left for a few
minutes, during which time a pistol shot was heard. Another histo-
rian, Francisco Bulnes, said that public opinion blamed Coso for the
murder of Velzquez. Adding credence to the theory that Coso may
have been behind the entire plot, Velzquez had a long conference
with Coso the night before Arroyos murder. Was it proof positive
or an unsubstantiated rumor? One thing was certain: General Coso
was never arrested and continued to serve in Dazs cabinet until 1911.
Perhaps the dictator, as Fornaro stated, merely wanted to keep a close
eye on a dangerous man.46
The possibility of a larger conspiracy inspired many others to specu-
late on the affair. The celebrated Porrian artist Jos Guadalupe Posada
offered his feelings on the matter when he composed a broadsheet
in 1898 telling the story of the hapless Arroyo, who became a pawn
in the hands of the police. Posada did not blame Coso for Arroyos
murder but instead placed the entire blame on Velzquez and his
associates:
A Our Father for Arroyo
May his soul rest
Since he was turned into a skeleton
By his good friend Velzquez.
A prayer also for him
Since he repented later
And he caught up with Arroyo

To ask him forgiveness.
Its going to be a year
Since Arnulfo marched to the other side
He became a skeleton
When Velzquez sentenced him.47
Posadas broadsheet reected popular condemnation of the ofcers

who had murdered Arroyo. Although the incident clearly shocked
Mexico Citys elite, the poor knew better, since it only conrmed what
they had always known about the police. In time the Porrian elite
forgot the embarrassing case or chose to do so. However, popular
memory would not forget. In 1910, in the wake of Cabreras death
at the hands of Serdan, a popular broadsheet announced the arrival
of Arroyos killer in hell. A witch, asking about the also notorious
political chief of Puebla, inquired of the damned policeman, Why
didnt you bring Pita?48
Resurrecting the Dead

El Imparcial, the unofcial mouthpiece of the Porrian state, initially
condemned Arnulfo Arroyo as a walking miasma and a living vice
who did not belong in the modern era.49 Days later Arroyo would
become a martyr in the eyes of those who lived in the imagined under-
world. Porrian elites, conscious of the negative impression the police-
led conspiracy left in the eyes of foreign observers, breathed a sigh
of relief as the government quickly tried and convicted a few errant
ofcers. In time, elites hoped, the incident would be forgotten and
modernity would march on.
The case did not go away, however, and it eventually became an
important part of the underworlds popular mythology, much in the
same way that the frequent appearances of dead women along the
Rio del Consulado were forever attributed to El Chalequero. In his
study on death in Mexico, Claudio Lomnitz argues rather convinc-
ingly that Porrian Mexico could perhaps be described as one giant
mausoleum, where dead heroes were remembered with lofty funer-
als and modernitys relentless advance resurrected public memori-
als of the departed. Posada, in his vivid descriptions of the Arroyo

case, likewise resurrected the deceased individual, placing him into
a larger political context that labeled the agents of order and prog-
ress, the Mexico City police, as assassins. Thus, almost at the end
of a remarkable decade that had seen the consolidation of Porrian
power and the creation of the underworld, the very government that
had forged the idea of organized criminality became identied with
crime itself. The specter of the imagined underworld had become
one with its creators.50

Conclusion
in 1 9 3 2 m e xi ca n au t ho r Hernan Robleto wrote a thrill-

ing account of famous crimes in the days of don Porrio, Crimenes
celebres: Desde el Chalequero hasta Gallegos, embellishing many of them
with a lm noir style. In one story Robleto described how Miguel
Cabrera, don Porrios most famous detective, arrested one of
the Porriatos greatest villains, Francisco Guerrero. In the story
Cabrera dressed as a laborer and inltrated the imagined under-
world, slipping in and out of pulqueras and vecindades until he
detained the notorious murderer. However, like the underworld
about which the Porrian elite fantasized, the account was pure c-
tion, invented by the Calles-era press to sell a few papers.1
The Robleto narrative, however, did present one interesting idea. In
telling the story of lancen rgime and its heroes and villains, Robleto
managed to depict Porrio Daz, his police lieutenants, and the crimi-
nals of Porrian Mexico City as one seamless entity. In other words
the regime and the criminality it struggled against became conated
into one cohesive universe. Gone were the Porriatos technologi-
cal achievements. Instead all that remained were the criminals, the
political plots (Arroyo), and the ofcial corruption that periodically
sent Mexico Citys poor and disenfranchised into the gulags of the
era. The criminal underworld had outlived the regime that spawned
it and had become one with its creators, remembered in Sunday seri-
als and urban legends.
The postrevolutionary regimes revision of the Daz government into
a corrupt and evil dictatorship echoed the Porrian elites own depic-
tion of the marginal city. By transforming criminal cases into show
trials and depicting the accused and their victims as social degenerates,
government prosecutors and newspaper editors forged a menacing
subculture that allegedly threatened the ideal city. Part of this effort
included the invention of stock characters: vile, sexually promiscuous,
and subhuman. During the rst Guerrero trial, prosecutors warned
that this population haunted the capitals marginal neighborhoods
and schemed to poison the morality of the middle and upper classes.
Ultimately a powerful and dangerous criminal narrative emerged,
existing alongside the ofcial story and reinforcing it with stories
of vice and murder. Mexicans were urged to be modern, with the
underworld functioning as a sort of ofcial boogey man, a vision of
what order and progress was not.2
The Porrian elites elaboration of the other side relied on a
social and moral boundary that divided gente decente from the urban
underclass. By casting impoverished urban barrios and colonias as
the physical location of the imagined underworld, the elite labeled
the world of the poor as debased and criminal. Pulqueras, tenement
houses, bordellos, and even the Beln prison became, quite literally,
centers of vice and corruption. Respectable Porrians were urged
to stay way and were warned that corrupt inuences posed a danger
to younger generations.
For elites this danger was often personied by the young male
population of the capital. Labeled as sexual vagabonds and thieves,
these men were said to prowl the cantinas and streets of the marginal
colonias, seeking women and adventure. They could even be found,
some Porrians maintained, in the most respectable quarters. For
example, during the Brilati and La Profesa robberies, Mexico City
ofcials responded to fears of a criminal invasion with massive, ef-
cient manhunts. Yet while these criminals posed little threat to the
ordered city (Treffels gang had targeted a lonely, elderly shopkeeper),
the Porrian elite judged them to be a public menace. Nevertheless,
both robberies proved that the regimes security apparatus was sorely
lacking.
180 Conclusion
To elites the Francisco Guerrero murders and the Brilanti and La
Profesa robberies were stark reminders that the emerging middle
class needed protection from crime and vice. But what happened
when Mexicans from that middle class were guilty of criminal actions?
While on the surface Luis Yzaguirre, Eduardo Velzquez, and Federico
Abrego appeared to represent the Porrian credo of order and prog-
ress, in reality they did not. Luis Yzaguirres murder of Mara Piedad
Ontiveros, his drinking habits, and his participation in the sexual
underworld betrayed his position as a member of the middle class.
Similarly, Federico Abregos role in Mara Barreras abortion as well
as his secretive past, led to his condemnation.3
Ultimately the underworld myth collapsed under the weight of the
governments own criminality. The Arnulfo Arroyo affair, perhaps the
most notorious of all the Porrian-era crimes, exposed the regimes
faults and weaknesses. Eduardo Velzquezs complicity in the police
conspiracy that led to the death of Arroyo signied the ultimate betrayal.
It also represented, to many contemporary critics, the convergence
of the underworld and the ofcial city.
The Porriato Revisited

I conclude with a recent event. In the summer of 2004 tens of thou-
sands of Mexicans, mostly from the middle and upper classes, marched
in Mexico Citys historic downtown area to protest the capitals high
crime rate. The march was impressive not only due to its sheer size,
but also due to the ofcial support and condemnation it received.
Politicians from the pri (Institutional Revolutionary Party), Mexicos
old ruling party, and the pan (National Action Party), the right-of-
center party that spawned Vicente Fox, jockeyed for position, issuing
support for the marchers. Perhaps not surprisingly, Mexico Citys
populist mayor, Andrs Manuel Lpez Obrador of the left-of-center
prd (Party of the Democratic Revolution), condemned the marchers
as political pawns.4 As the press reported from the Zcalo, millions
of other Mexicans reported to work as usual. These citizens did not
have time to attend the march and perhaps consciously chose not to
do so. For them crime was not an issue to protest but part of every-
day life, a challenge to be met while living and working in one of the
Conclusion 181
worlds biggest cities. The truth is that Mexico Citys working-class
residents have always struggled with crime. For them criminality is
not an abstract issue but a horrifying reality. However, for the press
and the government, crime is a social phenomenon that often takes
on imagined aspects.
These imagined aspects have always been a part of the ofcial story.
In the late colonial era, Bourbon ofcials classied the world of the
poor as degenerate. They advocated the division of the city into admin-
istrative wards to facilitate social control. The chaos of the nineteenth
century slowed the colonial project, but Porrian planners continued
the organization of the urban underclass. Mexico Citys eight districts
were continually revised, and one observer after another issued new
studies to further classify the poor. As government ofcials divided
up the urban landscape using the language of legality, the other city
was increasingly couched in harsh terms, judged disease ridden and
identied as the source of crime.5
The marchers on that hot summer day in 2004 also understood the
language of crime. Popular perception has long labeled Tepito, the
colonia Buena Vista, and other regions along the capitals periphery
as havens of criminal activity. Occasional police raids, murders, and
robberies on the notorious bus route known as la ruta de muerte,
the ght over fayuca, or contraband, and of course the ever-present
drug trade have avored criminality in the early twenty-rst century.
The current Mexico City police, like their Porrian counterparts, are
increasingly tasked to control widespread criminality. And like its
late nineteenth-century incarnation, the imagined underworld of the
present is judged by those in power to be a threat to the nation.6
182 Conclusion
Notes
Introduction
1. La Averiguacin de un crimen, El Imparcial, January 17, 1907; El Nacinal,
December 20, 1890; El Siglo Diez y Nueve, December 17, 1890; El Tiempo, December
17, 1890.
2. Los cientcos were complex and heterogeneous. See Beezley, Kaleidoscopic
Views, 16779; see also Burns, Cultures in Conict, 1177; Bufngton and
French, Culture of Modernity, 397432; Speckman Guerra, Crimen y castigo,
71114.
3. See Anna, Forging Mexico.
4. The Porrian Persuasion could be either ofcial or not and was heavily
inuenced by modernity. See Beezley, Judas at the Jockey Club; for the Porrian
ideal family, see French, Peaceful and Working People.
5. Anderson, Imagined Communities, 43.
6. In general Latin American elites believed that indigenous peoples were
incapable of participating in the liberal national discourse. See Larson, Trials of
Nation Making, 24653.
7. Bufngton and French, Culture of Modernity, 402.
8. See Lear, Mexico City, 44492.
9. For the idea of the underclasss danger to the Mexican nation-state, see
Tella, Dangerous Classes, 79105.
10. Rama, Lettered City, 5153.
11. For studies of Mexican criminality in the colonial era, see Haslip, Crime and
Punishment; Armendares Lozano, Criminalidad; MacLachlan, Criminal Justice.
12. Cohn, Colonialism, xiii.
13. Castillo, Entre la moralizacin y el sensacionalismo, 3236.
14. Bufngton, Criminal and Citizen; Piccato, City of Suspects.
15. The Porrian master narrative relied on a shared cultural identity that can
be detected in ofcial reports, newspaper editorials, and the discourses employed
by government ofcials as well as by gente decente. For the ideological basis
behind a similar historical example, see Zerubavel, Recovered Roots, 69; for the
best examples of how modern projects were incorporated into Porrian nation
building, see Beezley, Judas at the Jockey Club; for one of the architects of moder-
nity, see Kuecker, Alejandro Prieto, 91102.
16. Nineteenth-century Latin American elites used a powerful discourse to
condemn racially mixed populations, as well as indigenous peoples, as inher-
ently degenerate. See, for instance, Stabb, Quest of Identity, 1222; for a general
analysis of degeneration, see Pick, Faces of Degeneration.
17. For a broader range of studies on criminality, see Nacif Mina, Polica en la
historia; Tavira, Crimen politico en Mxico; Taylor, Drinking, Homicide and Rebellion;
Yez Romero, Polica mexicana. For other related studies on Latin America, see
Aguirre, Criminals of Lima; Aguirre and Bufngton, Reconstructing Criminality;
Caimari, Apenas un delincuente; Holloway, Policing Rio de Janeiro; Johnson, Problem
of Order; Salvatore and Aguirre, Birth of the Penitentiary. For Europe the historiog-
raphy is voluminous; see, for example, Emsley, Crime and Society in England; Evans,
Tales from the German Underworld; Philips, Three Moral Entrepreneurs, 81107;
Thomas, Victorian Underworld.
18. French, Imagining and Cultural History, 24967.
1. Charting the Imagined City

1. La cuna del crimen, El Imparcial, July 8, 1908.
2. Piccato, City of Suspects, 46.
3. For a late eighteenth-century comparison, see Voekel, Peeing on the Palace,
183208.
4. Galindo y Villa, Resea histrico-descriptiva; Gonzlez Navarro, Estadisticas
sociales, 9; Piccato, City of Suspects, 2123; Ramos Escandn, Historia y literatura,
1213.
5. See Edney, Mapping an Empire.
6. Carrera Stampa, Planos de la ciudad; Galindo y Villa, Resea histrico-descriptiva,
5556; Rohlfes, Police and Penal Correction, 8284; Janvier, Mexican Guide.
7. Archiga Crdoba, Tepito, 14849.
8. Galindo y Villa, Resea histrico-descriptiva, 5556; for a thorough study of
the parcialidades, see Lira-Gonzlez, Comunidades indgenas.
9. Galindo y Villa, Resea histrico-descriptiva, 5556; Michael Johns, City of
Mexico, 2741.
10. Cosso, Algunas noticias, 23; Michael Johns, City of Mexico, 3940; El
Imparcial, July 3, 1908; Terry, Terrys Mexico, 257.
11. El Imparcial, July 3, 1908; Gonzlez Navarro, Sociedad y cultura, 13637.
12. See McClintock, Imperial Leather, 12022.
13. Archiga Crdoba, Tepito, 21136.
14. El Chisme, November 22, 1899; Rohlfes, Police and Penal Correction,
8687; Lear, Mexico City, 48183.
184 Notes to pages 718

15. El Imparcial, July 6, 1908.
16. Al recurso de casacin interpuesto por el Defensor de Francisco Guerrero
El Chalequero, en el proceso que se construy a este por homicidio, Tribunal
Superior de Justicia del Distrito, Primera Sala, February 9, 1891June 1, 1891,
Legajo 147117, Caja 1, 1891, Archivo del Tribunal Superior de Justicia del Distrito
Federal (hereafter cited as tsjdf), Archivo General de la Nacin (hereafter cited
at agn); Fraenkel, Practical Guide, 3; El Monitor Republicano, December 17, 1890;
Rivera Cambas, Mxico pintoresco, 9091; El Tiempo, December 10, 1890.
17. Barros and Buenrostro, Vida cotidiana, 22; Fraenkel, Practical Guide, 3; Michael
Johns, City of Mexico, 3; Lear, Mexico City, 48182; Plano de la ciudad de Mexico,
con la nueva division y nomenclatura de las calles (Mexico City: Hermanos Porrua,
1915) (hereafter cited as Porrua, Plano).
18. El Imparcial, May 18, 1909, May 19, 1909; Porrua, Plano; Castillo, Entre
la moralizacin y el sensacionalismo, 4147. Scholarship on Jess Negrete is
scarce; Carlos Isla has written a romanticized version, El tigre de Santa Julia, and
Patrick Franks scholarship in Posadas Broadsheets, 11627, illustrates Negretes
activities as well.
19. Fraenkel, Practical Guide, 6668; Galindo y Villa, Resea histrico-descrip-
tiva, 88.
20. Campbell, Campbells New Revised Complete Guide, 13638; Gonzlez Valadez,
Fiestas y paseos, 3238.
21. Plano general de indicacin de la ciudad de Mxico con la nueva division de los cuar-
teles y nomenclatura de las calles aprobado por el ayuntamiento de 1885 y por el gobierno
del distrito (Mxico: Debray Suc, 1886) (hereafter cited as Debray, Plano); Percival,
Mexico City, 2930; El Siglo Diez y Nueve, April 13, 1893; Terry, Terrys Mexico, 262.
For a description of the central business district, the pleasures to be enjoyed
there, and its elegant stores, see Michael Johns, City of Mexico, and Beezley, Judas
at the Jockey Club.
22. Debray, Plano; Plano general de indicacin de la ciudad de Mxico con la divisin,
1889; Porrua, Plano; Rivera Cambas, Mxico pintoresco, 24142.
23. Michael Johns, City of Mexico, 2831.
25. Gonzlez Navarro, Historia moderna de Mxico, 7375, 416; El Imparcial,
December 29, 1898; Guerrero Guerrero, Pulque, 12352; see also Piccato, El
Paso de Venus, 20341; Ponce, El alcoholismo en Mxico.
26. Ballou, Aztec Land, 22728.
27. Guerrero Guerrero, Pulque, 7071, 23132.
28. Finerty, Finerty Reports Porrian Mexico, 107; Jimnez, Lugares de gozo, 61;
Michael Johns, City of Mexico, 50.
29. Gaceta de Polica, December 24, 1905; Garca Cubas, El libro de mis recuerdos,
28993; Gonzlez y Gonzlez, Monroy, and Coso Villegas, Historia moderna de
Mexico, 464; Guerrero Guerrero, Pulque, 22132; Sin/nombre, El Consejo Superior
Notes to pages 1925 185

De Salubridad propone se exijan a los dueos de pulqueras que llene varios req-
uisitos relativos a higiene, October 5, 1903, Inv. 1771, vol. 3, 19031904, Ramo
Gobierno del Distrito, Pulqueras, Archivo Histrico del Distrito Federal (hereaf-
ter cited as ahdf); Rivera Cambas, Mxico pintoresco, 91; Taylor, Drinking, Homicide
and Rebellion, 66. Rayuela is still played in present-day pulqueras.
30. Piccato, El Paso de Venus, 21620; Expediente 60, June 1, 1901, Inv.
1769, vol. 1, 1901, Ramo Gobierno del Distrito, Pulqueras, ahdf; Expediente 29,
March 29, 1901, Inv. 1769, vol. 1, 1901, Ramo Gobierno del Distrito, Pulqueras,
ahdf.
31. Expediente 23, March 11, 1901, Inv. 1769, vol. 1, 1901, Ramo Gobierno del
Distrito, Pulqueras, ahdf; Expediente 63, May 13, 1901, Inv. 1769, vol. 1, 1901,
Ramo Gobierno del Distrito, Pulqueras, ahdf.
32. Pulque el veneno nacional, El Imparcial, February 21, 1909.
33. Gonzlez Navarro, Historia moderna de Mxico, 7275, 416; Piccato, El Paso de
Venus, 208; Macedo, Criminalidad en Mxico, 1718. See Rohlfes, Police and Penal
Correction, 16171, for statistical information on arrests for drunkenness.
34. Estan prohibidas las pulqueras en las lneas de la Mariscala a Buenavista; y
del Puente de San Francisco al paseo de la Reforma, Alfredo Saldivar to Gobernador
del df, Expediente 25, March 15, 1901, Inv. 1769, vol. 1, 1901, Ramo Gobierno del
Distrito, Pulqueras, ahdf; Gonzlez Navarro, Historia moderna de Mxico, 417;
Reglamento Nuevo de Pulqueras, Expediente 88, December 18, 1901, Inv. 1769,
vol. 1, 1901, Ramo Gobierno del Distrito, Pulqueras, ahdf.
35. Se consulta a la superiodad que los domingos casi a las doce del dia el
expendio de pulque y de toda bebida embriagante asi como el servicio de pul-
que en las fondas a las dos de la tarde y que en los dias communes se cieren los
establecimientos respectivas a las nueve de la noche suprimendose pertante,
las horas extraordinarias, Expediente 82, January 21, 1903, vol. 1332, Ramo
Gobierno del Distrito, Bebidas Embriagantes, ahdf.
36. Se consulta a la superiodad, Expediente 82, January 21, 1903, vol. 1332,
Ramo Gobierno del Distrito, Bebidas Embriagantes, ahdf.
37. Expediente 237, August 5, 1883, Inv. 1771, vol. 3, 19031905, Ramo Gobierno
del Distrito, Pulqueras, ahdf; Secretara del df para la Prefectura Poltica del
distrito de Tacubaya, Expediente 454, November 30, 1905, vol. 4, 19041906,
Ramo Gobierno del Distrito, Pulqueras, ahdf.
38. El Imparcial, May 28, 1909; Lear, Mexico City, 480.
39. The literature on Porrian prostitution is abundant. The best study from
the era is Lara y Pardo, Prostitucin en Mxico; for current studies, consult Bliss,
Compromised Positions; Delgado, Prostitucin, silis y moralidad sexual; Rivera-
Garza, Masters of the Streets; Bracamonte Allan, Sin honra ni decencia,
14163; for morality issues, see French, Peaceful and Working People.

40. Bliss, Compromised Positions, 31; Lara y Pardo, Prostitucin, 1518; Ramos
Escandn, Gender Construction; Reglamento de la polica de costumbres
(Reglamento regulando la prostitucin), Section S/S, 1887, Distrito Federal/
Gobierno del Distrito, Ramo Gobernacin, agn.
41. Lara y Pardo, Prostitucin, 1821.
42. See French, Prostitutes and Guardian Angels, 52953; Lara y Pardo,
Prostitucin, 911; Reglamento, 1887, Ramo Gobernacin.
43. Lara y Pardo, Prostitucin, 9597.
44. El Popular, September 19, 1908.
45. Se ordena el propetario del establecimiento El Nuevo Continente en
Santa Catarina 3, que ejecute algunas obras en el local, Expediente 123, August
28, 1903, vol. 1332, Ramo Gobierno del Distrito, Bebidas Embriagantes, ahdf.
For an overview of Mexico Citys cafes, see Daz y de Ovando, Los cafs en Mxico.
46. Expediente 8, January 17, 1906, vol. 1382, Ramo Gobierno del Distrito,
Diversiones, ahdf.
47. Expediente 38, March 8, 1906, vol. 1382, Ramo Gobierno del Distrito,
Diversiones, ahdf.
48. Gamboa, Santa.
49. Bufngton and Piccato, Tales of Two Women, 395415.
50. French, Peaceful and Working People, 63107.
51. For contemporary descriptions of sensationalistic crimes, see Roumagnac,
Criminales en Mxico.
52. La rueda del azar, 14647.
53. See Beezley, Judas at the Jockey Club. For Zivys game, see Expediente 4, January
14, 1904, Seccin 1, Juegos Populares, Legajo 2, Ramo Gobernacin, agn.
54. Garca Gonzlez, La Chaquira, 1056; Rohlfes, Police and Penal
Correction, 2078.
55. For the exploits of Abrego, see chapter 5 of this study. For the Velzquez
affair, see chapter 6; Garca Gonzlez, La Chaquira, 10524, 13135.
56. Garca Gonzlez, La Chaquira, 117, 124, 13135; Riedel, Practical Guide,
349; Terry, Terrys Mexico, 369.
57. Garca Gonzlez, La Chaquira, 12930, 172; El Universal Grco, May 28,
1927.
58. Garca Gonzlez, La Chaquira, 176, 18992, 208.
59. Expediente 210, May 23, 1899, Inv. 3671, vol. 4, Ramo Polica de Salubridad,
ahdf; El Imparcial, September 30, 1900.
60. Bufngton, Criminal and Citizen, 9699; El Imparcial, September 30, 1900,
December 23, 1906; Jimnez, Lugares de gozo, 25673; Piccato, City of Suspects,
200; Rohlfes, Police and Penal Correction, 285312.
61. Expediente 10, June 10, 1901, vol. 1331, Ramo Gobierno del Distrito, Bebidas
Embrigantes, ahdf.

2. The Terror of Peralvillo, El Chalequero
1. Guerrero, La gnesis del crimen, 13233; Irwin, Mexican Masculinities, 59.
2. El Pas, July 1, 1906; El Popular, July 3, 1906; Taylor, Drinking, Homicide and
Rebellion, 6768.
3. El Imparcial, February 5, 1907; Roumagnac, Matadores, 32.
4. Ejecutoria de Sentencias, Seccin Carcel de Beln, vol. 428, n/d, Ramo
Gobierno del Distrito Federal, agn; El Imparcial, March 8, 1902; El Popular, March
7, 1902; El Popular, March 9, 1902; Roumagnac, Matadores, 8182, 12027.
5. Roumagnac, Matadores, 8182, 12027.
6. Ansencio Antonio Martnez por violacin de sus hijas Feodora y Margarita,
Tribunal Superior de Justicia, Segunda Sala, August 11, 1888, Legajo 164254,
Caja 3, 1888, tsjdf, agn; Gaceta de Polica, October 8, 1905, October 29, 1905;
El Imparcial, March 29, 1906; Roumagnac, Matadores, 25.
7. Los misterios de un crimen, El Popular, August 30, 1906.
10. Los misterios de un crimen, El Popular, August 30, 1906; El Imparcial,
January 17, 1907.
11. La averiguacin de un crimen, El Imparcial, January 17, 1907.
12. El jurado de los fandangos, El Popular, September 15, 1906.
13. Macedo, Criminalidad en Mxico, 117; El jurado de los fandangos, El
Popular, September 15, 1906.
14. Bernardo Mallen, Mxico ayer y hoy, 18761904 (Mexico City: Hermanos
Myer, 1904), 17, 6063, No. 1227, Caja 50, Collecon Folleteria, agn; Weiner,
Race, Nation, and Market, 1516.
15. El Nacinal, December 9, 1890; Robleto, Crmenes celebres, 4445; Roumagnac,
Matadores, 18486.
16. Castillo, Entre la moralizacin y el sensacionalismo, 53; Roumagnac,
Matadores, 18699.
17. Higiene pblica, Gaceta Mdica de Mxico, January 15, 1899; La cuna del
crimen, El Imparcial, July 4, 1908; El Imparcial, July 6, 1908; Michael Johns, City
of Mexico, 32; Lear, Mexico City, 484; Piccato, Urbanistas, Ambulantes and
Mendigos, 12324; Smith, Flying Visits, 31.
18. El Nacinal, December 9, 1890; Roumagnac, Matadores, 18699.
19. El Imparcial, December 9, 1890; El Nacinal, December 9, 1890; Roumagnac,
Matadores, 18699, 205; Taylor, Drinking, Homicide, and Rebellion, 91; Al recurso,
Legajo 147117, tsjdf; El Imparcial, June 19, 1908; El Siglo Diez y Nueve, December
18, 1890.
20. Pablo Piccato states that Porrian criminologists and elites considered
Guerreros crimes ordinary occurrences among the urban poor; see Piccato, El
Chalequero, 62351.

21. El Nacinal, December 10, 1890, December 19, 1890; Robleto, Crmenes cele-
bres, 64; El Monitor Republicano, December 10, 1890; Al recurso, Legajo 147117,
tsjdf; El Tiempo, December 10, 1890.
22. Por el proceso instruido por el Juez Tercero de lo Criminal contra: Francisco
Guerreropor homicido, robo, violacin, Tribunal Superior de Justicia del
Distrito, Segunda Sala, January 5, 1891, Legajo 147142, Caja 1, 1891, tsjdf, agn;
El Nacinal, December 17, 1890; El Tiempo, December 10, 1890, December 13,
1890, December 19, 1890.
23. Jurado de Francisco Guerrero y de Jos Montoya, acusados de homici-
dios, robos, y violaciones, El Siglo Diez y Nueve, December 16, 1890; El Tiempo,
December 17, 1890; El Universal, December 17, 1890.
24. El Imparcial, September 5, 1908.
25. El Imparcial, June 18, 1908; El Nacinal, December 9, 1890, December 20,
1890.
26. Castillo, Entre la moralizacin y el sensacionalismo, 4748; El Nacinal,
December 9, 1890, December 12, 1890; Jurado de Francisco Guerrero y de Jos
Montoya, acusados de homicidios, robos, y violaciones, El Siglo Diez y Nueve,
December 16, 1890; El Universal, December 17, 1890; Al recurso, Legajo 147117,
tsjdf.
27. El Imparcial, June 18, 1908; El Nacinal, December 20, 1890; El Siglo Diez y
Nueve, December 17, 1890.
28. El Imparcial, June 19, 1908; El Nacinal, December 20, 1890.
29. El Universal, December 20, 1890.
30. Speckman Guerra, Crimen y castigo, 24849; El Universal, December 19,
1890, December 20, 1890.
31. El Monitor Republicano, December 16, 1890.
32. Jurado de Francisco Guerrero y de Jos Montoya, acusados de homici-
dios, robos, y violaciones, El Siglo Diez y Nueve, December 16, 1890; El Tiempo,
December 17, 1890.
33. El Nacinal, December 10, 1890; El Monitor Republicano, December 18, 1890;
El Siglo Diez y Nueve, December 17, 1890; El Tiempo, December 10, 1890, December
13, 1890, December 18, 1890.
34. El Monitor Republicano, December 17, 1890; El Tiempo, December 10, 1890.
For a discussion of upper-class voyeurs who explored the poor urban sectors
of Victorian London, see Walkowitz, City of Dreadful Delight, 2428.
35. El Monitor Republicano, December 18, 1890; Robleto, Crmenes celebres, 46.
36. El Nacinal, December 19, 1890, December 20, 1890.
37. El Nacinal, December 19, 1890.
38. Siglo Diez y Nueve, December 19, 1890.
39. Siglo Diez y Nueve, December 19, 1890.
40. El Monitor Republicano, December 18, 1890, December 19, 1890; El Tiempo,
December 19, 1890; El Universal, December 16, 1890.

41. El Monitor Republicano, December 19, 1890; El Mundo, December 19, 1890;
El Tiempo, December 19, 1890.
42. El Monitor Republicano, December 19, 1890; Por el proceso, Legajo 147142,
tsjdf; El Tiempo, December 19, 1890.
43. Al recurso, Legajo 147117, tsjdf; El Diario, June 6, 1908, June 25, 1908,
September 4, 1908; El Imparcial, September 4, 1908; Robleto, Crmenes celebres,
5860; El Universal Grco, May 28, 1927.
44. Juan Aguirre to Porrio Daz, March 5, 1892, Reo Francisco Guerrero,
Expediente 710, vol. 281, Ramo Justicia, Secretaria de Justicia, agn.
45. Al recurso, Legajo 147117, tsjdf; El Diario, June 6, 1908, June 25, 1908,
September 4, 1908; El Imparcial, September 4, 1908; Por el proceso, Legajo
147142, tsjdf; Relativo al pago de los gastos de traslacin de los reos Francisco
Guerrero, Luis Yzaguirre, Pioquinto Zaldivar, y Ignacio Garca, Seccin 1a, 1892,
Estados de la Republica, Presos, Relaciones con los estados, gastos en los presos
de alimentacin, traslados, y estancias, Legajo 892, Ramo Gobernacin, agn;
Robleto, Crmenes celebres, 5860; El Universal Grco, May 28, 1927.
46. El Diario, June 25, 1908; El Imparcial, May 28, 1908; Crimen Monstruo,
El Popular, May 27, 1908, May 28, 1908.
47. El Imparcial, May 31, 1908; El Popular, May 28, 1908.
48. El Diario, September 4, 1908.
49. Roumagnac, Matadores, 21415.
50. El Diario, June 18, 1908, September 4, 1908; El Imparcial, June 17, 1908,
September 4, 1908; Roumagnac, Matadores, 21415.
51. El Diario, June 24, 1908, September 4, 1908.
52. El Diario, June 24, 1908, September 4, 1908.
53. El Diario, September 4, 1908.
54. Bufngton, Criminal and Citizen, 5961; Roumagnac, Matadores, 21945.
For Vachers crimes see Ashley, Vacher.
56. Castillo, Entre la moralizacin y el sensacionalismo, 57; El Imparcial,
June 20, 1908, September 5, 1908, November 6, 1910.
3. Love, Betrayal, and Death in the Underworld

1. A Luis Yzaguirre y Sabino Domnguez por la muerte de Piedad Ontiveros,
Expediente 196498, Juzgado 5 de lo Criminal, October 14, 1890June 10, 1892,
Caja 17/6852, 1890, tsjdf, agn; El Tiempo, October 16, 1890.
2. Castillo, Entre la moralizacin y el sensacionalismo, 3032; see also
Prez-Rayn Elizundia, Mxico 1900, 183209.
3. See Guillas, Crimes of Passion.
4. Piccato, City of Suspects, 1037.
5. Gaceta de Polica, October 8, 1905; El Imparcial, March 29, 1906.

6. Gaceta de Polica, October 8, 1905; El Imparcial, October 24, 1905; Roumagnac,
Matadores, 1067, 117, 25759.
7. Bufngton, Criminal and Citizen, 7274.
8. Bufngton, Criminal and Citizen, 7274.
9. Cdigo Penal Reformado, 21020; Speckman Guerra, Crimen y castigo, 6566. For
an interesting study on rapto y estupro, see Contla, Del delito de estupro.
10. Gregorrio Buenrrostro por rapto y estupro, Expediente 138432, Juzgado
3 de lo Criminal, July 24, 1889July 31, 1889, Caja 2/1335, 1889, tsjdf, agn; El
Tiempo, October 16, 1890.
11. Gregorrio Buenrrostro por rapto y estupro, Expediente 138432,
tsjdf.
12. Gregorrio Buenrrostro por rapto y estupro, Expediente 138432,
tsjdf.
13. Bufngton and Piccato, Tales of Two Women, 395415; Roumagnac,
Criminales en Mxico, 1089.
14. Porrua, Plano; Riedel, Practical Guide, 211, 218; Roumagnac, Criminales en
Mxico, 109; Southworth, Mexico ilustrado, 104. The Tivoli del Eliseo was located in
what is today the southeast corner of Insurgentes Sur and Puente de Alvarado.
15. Bufngton and Piccato, Tales of Two Women, 396; El Globo, March 10,
1897; Roumagnac, Criminales en Mxico, 10910.
16. Apelacin de Mara Villa por el Homicidio de Esperanza Gutierrez,
Juzgado Primero del Distrito Federal, February 18, 1898November 21, 1898,
Legajo 271168, Caja 3/2994, 1897, tsjdf, agn; Bufngton and Piccato, Tales
of Two Women, El Globo, March 10, 1897.
17. El Globo, March 11, 1897, March 12, 1897; La tragedia de Tarasquillo, El
Imparcial, September 19, 1897.
18. Apelacin de Mara Villa, Legajo 271168, tsjdf; La tragedia de
Tarasquilla, El Imparcial, September 19, 1897; Sagredo Baeza, Mara Villa, 30
32, 5258.
19. La tragedia de Tarasquilla, El Imparcial, September 19, 1897; Sagredo
Baeza, Mara Villa, 13, 8889.
20. Apelacin de Mara Villa, Legajo 271168, tsjdf; El Popular, March 17,
1899; Speckman Guerra, Crimen y castigo, 19699; El Imparcial, March 16, 1899;
Robleto, Crmenes celebres, 207.
Expediente 196498, tsjdf; El Tiempo, October 16, 1890.
Expediente 196498, tsjdf.

Expediente 196498, tsjdf; Reo Luis Yzaguirre, Expediente 722, vol. 281, 1892,
Ramo Justicia, Secretaria de Justicia, agn.
25. Lara y Pardo, Prostitucin en Mxico, 17; A Luis Yzaguirre y Sabino Domnguez
por la muerte de Piedad Ontiveros, Expediente 196498, tsjdf; Reglamento de
la polica de costumbres (Reglamento regulando la prostitucin), Section S/S,
1887, Distrito Federal/Gobierno del Distrito, Ramo Gobernacin, agn.
27. For the subject of Victorian women and menstrual cycles, see Showalter,
Victorian Women and Menstruation, 3844; for Mexican views on honor, see
Seed, Love, Honor and Obey; Stern, Secret History of Gender.
33. Irwin, Mexican Masculinities, 5064.
36. Ramos Escandn, Seoritas Porrianas, 14361; A Luis Yzaguirre y
Sabino Domnguez por la muerte de Piedad Ontiveros, Expediente 196498,
tsjdf. For a general view of women in the Porrian era, see Tun Pablos,
Mujeres en Mxico; Vallens, Working Women in Mexico.
37. Seccin domestica: Reglas de sociedad, in Almanaque Bouret, 13847.
Expediente 196498, tsjdf; El Tiempo, June 6, 1891.
Expediente 196498, tsjdf; El Mundo, October 15, 1890; El Nacinal, October 15,
1890.

Expediente 196498, tsjdf; El Mundo, October 15, 1890; El Nacinal, October 15,
1890.
48. Cdigo Penal Reformado, 13; A Luis Yzaguirre y Sabino Domnguez por la
muerte de Piedad Ontiveros, Expediente 196498, tsjdf; Piccato, City of Suspects,
8586; El Tiempo, June 6, 1891.
Expediente 196498, tsjdf; El Tiempo, June 6, 1891.
50. Relativo al pago de los gastos, Legajo 892, Ramo Gobernacin.
51. La Patria, October 18, 1890.
4. Organized Crime and the Porrian State

1. Although Dazs reelection in 1892 provoked some controversy, the regime
grew stronger; see Garner, Porrio Daz, 1023.
2. La Correspondencia de Mxico, April 17, 1888; Jess del Raso y socios de robo
al seor Jose Brilanti, Juzgado 4 de lo Criminal, April 16, 1888, Legajo 258340,
Caja 2, 1888, tsjdf, agn.
3. Jess del Raso y socios de robo, Legajo 258340, tsjdf; El Nacinal, April
17, 1888.
4. Jess del Raso y socios de robo, Legajo 258340, tsjdf.
9. El Foro, August 2, 1888; Jess del Raso y socios de robo, Legajo 258340,
tsjdf; El Universal, July 26, 1888.
11. Jess del Raso y socios de robo, Legajo 258340, tsjdf; El Universal, July
26, 1888.

28, 1888.
28, 1888.
tsjdf.
21. Bufngton, Criminal and Citizen, 3863; El Foro, August 1, 1888; Jess del
Raso y socios de robo, Legajo 258340, tsjdf.
24. Robo de la Profesa, Juzgado 5 de lo Criminal, February 21, 1891, Ramo
Penal, Legajo 973475, Caja 4/4863, 1891, tsjdf, agn.
25. El Imparcial, May 16, 1897; Robo de la Profesa, Legajo 973475, tsjdf; El
Universal Grco, March 2, 1926.
26. Robo de la Profesa, Legajo 973475, tsjdf.
27. El Imparcial, May 16, 1897.
28. Fraenkel, Practical Guide, preface; Robo de la Profesa, Legajo 973475,
tsjdf; El Universal Grco, March 2, 1926.
31. Summary, Inspeccin General de Polica, February 28, 1891, Exp. 001051,
Legajo 16, Coleccin Porfirio Daz (hereafter cited as cpd), Universidad
Iberoamericana (hereafter cited as ui); Robo de la Profesa, Legajo 973475,
tsjdf; El Universal Grco, March 2, 1926.
32. Summary, Inspeccin General de Polica, February 28, 1891, cpd.
33. Summary, Inspeccin General de Polica, February 28, 1891, cpd.
34. Piccato, City of Suspects, 4547; Robo de la Profesa, Legajo 973475,
tsjdf.
41. Robleto, Crmenes celebres, 121; Robo de la Profesa, Legajo 973475,
tsjdf.

43. Bunker, Hot Diamonds, Cold Steel, 4; Robo de la Profesa, Legajo
973475, tsjdf; La Voz de Mxico, April 25, 1891.
45. Robo de la Profesa, Legajo 973475, tsjdf; La Voz de Mxico, April 26,
1891.
48. Rafael Chousal to Luis Ncolas Islay y Bustamante, February 24, 1891, Serie,
Particular, Box 4, Expediente 59, Follete 65, Fondo Rafael Chousal, Centro de
Estudios sobre la Universidad, Universidad Nacinal Autonoma de Mxico.
49. Porrio Daz to Jos Verastegui, February 24, 1891, Doc. 1325, Legajo 16,
cpd, ui; Robo de la Profesa, Legajo 973475, tsjdf; Jos Verastegui to Porrio
Daz, February 23, 1891, Doc. 1362, Legajo 16, cpd, ui.
52. El Universal Grco, March 4, 1926.
53. Bunker, Hot Diamonds, Cold Steel.
55. El Imparcial, April 17, 1901; La Profesa, Crmenes celebres, 14043; Listas
de revista y presupuestos de los presos en San Juan de Ula, Traslados, Servicios
medicos y alimentos, Seccin 1, 1891, Estados de la Republica, Presos, Relaciones
con los Estados, Legajo 1, Caja 3, Ramo Gobernacin, agn; Robo de la Profesa,
Legajo 973475, tsjdf.
56. La Profesa, Crmenes celebres, 14043; Robo de la Profesa, Legajo 973475,
tsjdf; El Universal Grco, March 4, 1926, May 28, 1927.
57. Como navo en Mxico la Policia Secreta, en tiempos de don Porrio, El
Universal Grco, March 2, 1926.
58. Recordando los crimenes celebres, El Universal Grco, March 4, 1926.
5. Disease, Decay, and the Strange Case of

Federico Abrego and Mara Barrera
1. La Patria, October 18, 1890.
2. Meade, Civilizing Rio, 10320; see also Stepan, Race, Gender and Nation.
3. I thank Anne Rubenstein for her idea of middle-class anxieties.
4. Hahner, Poverty and Politics, 15784; see also Meade, Civilizing Rio; El Imparcial,
November 6, 1909.
5. Los vecinos de la calle de San Salvador el Seco solicitan se obligue a los
propietarios de ncas en esa call e a que establezcan excusados en sus respec-
tivas casas, Expediente 212, March 22, 1899, vol. 4, 18961916, Ramo Polica
de Salubridad, ahdf.

6. Agostoni, Monuments of Progress, 4576; Higiene Publica, Gaceta Medica de
Mexico, January 15, 1899; Gonzlez Navarro, Historia moderna de Mxico, 1023.
7. Expediente 162, May 16, 1882, vol. 3, 18921894, Ramo Polica de Salubridad,
ahdf.
8. Mocin del C. Regidor del ramo para que se evite la venta de bebidas alco-
holicas en las cercanias del panteon, Sala de Comisiones, Expediente 898, August
29, 1899, vol. 3460, 18961900, Ramo Panteones en General, ahdf.
9. Expediente 1095, September 22, 1897, Inv. 495506, vol. 12, 18961900,
Tomo 11, Ramo Carceles en General, ahdf.
10. Expediente 396, November 28, 1907, vol. 1337, Ramo Gobierno del Distrito,
Bebidas Embrigantes, ahdf.
11. Velasco Ceballos, El Hospital Jurez, 111.
12. El Presidente del Congreso Superior de Salubridad presenta puntos los
cuales deberan sujertarse los miembros de este consejo a efecto de que pueda
combatirse la epidemia de tifo que se ha desarollado en esta ciudad, Expediente
16, January 1906, Consejo Superior de Gobierno del Distrito, vol. 645, Ramo
Ayuntamiento, ahdf.
13. Mocin del Presidente del Consejo Superior de Salubridad para que se
dicten las medidas por las autoridades respectivas, a efecto de evitar o se desar-
rolle la epidemia de tifo en esta capital, Expediente 21, September 1907, Consejo
Superior de Gobierno de Distrito, vol. 645, Ramo Ayuntamiento, ahdf.
14. See Bashford, Imperial Hygiene, 43.
15. For the exact quote, see Gonzlez Navarro, Historia moderna de Mxico, 99.
16. Mocin del Presidente del Consejo Superior de Salubridad, September
1907, Ramo Ayuntamiento; El Imparcial projected one such plan for La Bolsa.
17. Voekel, Peeing on the Palace.
18. See Bliss, Compromised Positions.
19. Contra Mara Belmonte por Corrupcion de Menores, Juzgado Quinto de
Instruccin, June 24, 1908, Ramo Penal, Legajo 572174, Caja 1/22-v1-98, 1908,
tsjdf, agn.
20. Arnold, Colonizing the Body.
21. See Foucault, Birth of the Clinic.
22. El Popular, March 17, 1899; El Imparcial, March 16, 1899.
23. Un banquete macabro, Gaceta de Polica, November 5, 1905.
24. Gaceta Medica de Mxico, March 1, 1899.
25. Memorias del 2nd Congreso Mdico Pan-Americano, 47.
26. Agostoni, Monuments of Progress, 14344.
27. Aborto provocado y homicidio, Juzgado Tercero de Instruccin, October
5, 1898, Ramo Penal, Legajo 299176, Caja 5/3929, 1898, tsjdf, agn; El Universal,
October 26, 1898.
28. Aborto provocado y homicidio, Legajo 299176, tsjdf; El Imparcial, October
25, 1898, October 27, 1898.

29. Aborto provocado y homicidio, Legajo 299176, tsjdf.
34. Aborto provocado y homicidio, Legajo 299176, tsjdf; El Imparcial,
October 22, 1898.
35. Las exhumaciones judiciales: Un procedimiento mexicano, El Imparcial,
November 29, 1898.
36. Bashford, Purity and Pollution, 10713.
37. El Imparcial, October 7, 1898.
38. El Imparcial, October 7, 1898.
December 23, 1898; El Universal, October 26, 1898.
40. El Imparcial, November 11, 1898.
November 11, 1898.
43. El Imparcial, November 11, 1898, November 12, 1898, November 14,
1898.
November 24, 1898; El Popular, November 27, 1898.
48. El Imparcial, November 14, 1898, November 19, 1898; El Popular, November
15, 1898.
49. El Popular, November 15, 1890, November 30, 1898, December 25, 1898.
50. Aborto provocado y homicidio, Legajo 299176, tsjdf; El Popular, May
5, 1899; El Imparcial, May 5, 1899; El Chisme, December 15, 1899.
51. Agostoni, Monuments of Progress, 11553; El Imparcial, July 10, 1908.
6. Politics, Corruption, and the Arnulfo Arroyo Affair

1. See Snchez Gonzlez, Cuatro atentados presidenciales.
2. Sometimes even indirect criticism did not prevent arrest. In September 1897
Carlos Rougmagnac was arrested for publishing an article Porrian authori-
ties considered provocative. See MacGregor Campuzano, Historigraa sobre
criminalidad, 22138.
3. Nacif Mina, Polica en la historia, 1114.
4. Rohlfes, Police and Penal Correction, 3471; Santoni, La Polica, 98
116; Vanderwood, Disorder and Progress, 4549. The advent of modernity in Latin

America brought about profound changes in urban policing; see, for instance,
Blackwelder, Urbanization, Crime, and Policing, 6587; for the larger con-
text, see Shelley, Crime and Modernization. For the specic development of Mexico
Citys police force in the pre-Porrian nineteenth century, see Yez Romero,
Polica mexicana.
5. Santoni, La Polica, 98116.
6. El Apostol, April 11, 1892; El Resumen, July 2, 1895.
7. Actualidades, February 12, 1909; Prontuario de Polica, Secretaria de
Ayuntamiento, Expedientes, Comisin de Inspeccin de Secretara, June 11,
1902, Tomo 436, Legajo 9l , Archivo Municipal de Puebla; El Hijo del Ahuizote,
October 24, 1897; El Resumen, July 2, 1895.
8. Actualidades, February 26, 1909; El Hijo del Ahuizote, May 6, 1894; El Fandango,
April 5, 1894; Knight, Mexican Revolution, vol. 2, 32; La Paz Publica, December 3,
1893.
9. Contra el gendarme Francisco Castaeda por rapto de Crmen Flores,
Juzgado 2 de lo Criminal, October 30, 1895, Legajo 1079502, Caja 6/1895, 1895,
tsjdf, agn.
10. Contra el gendarme Francisco Castaeda por rapto de Crmen Flores,
Legajo 1079502, tsjdf.
11. Barrera Bassols, El caso Villavicencio, 4548; Piccato, City of Suspects, 168.
12. Through the Land of the Aztecs, 8486.
13. Carson, Mexico, 21416.
14. Gillpatrick, Man Who Likes Mexico, 328.
15. For banditry in nineteenth-century Mexico, see Solares Robles, Bandidos;
Vanderwood, Disorder and Progress.
16. Beezley, Porrian Smart Set, 17577; Garner, Porrio Daz, 12930; Snchez
Gonzlez, Cuatro atentados presidenciales, 13; Arenas Guzmn, 50 Retablos, 18889;
The Mexican Herald, September 17, 1897; Byrd, Many Mexicos, 25965.
17. Contra Arnulfo Arroyo, Juzgado 5 de lo Criminal, July 21, 1890August 3,
1890, Legajo 139808, 1890, tsjdf, agn; The Mexican Herald, September 17, 1897;
El Popular, September 19, 1897. For a description of Mexico Citys dandies and
other terms used to describe social climbers, see Casasola, Seis siglos, 116465.
18. El Imparcial reported that Arroyo had been briey detained on September 15
for drunk and disorderly conduct; El Imparcial, October 20, 1897; Barrera Bassols,
El caso Villavicencio, 6978; Coso Villegas, Historia moderna de Mxico, 68388; The
Mexican Herald, September 17, 1897; New York Times, September 17, 1897; Rbago,
Historia del gran crimen, 9. See also Quevedo y Zubieta, La camada, for a novelized
account of the incident.
19. The Mexican Herald, September 17, 1897.
20. Johns, Man Who Shot McKinley, 93100; Garza Galn to Daz, September
18, 1909, 143, 12351, cpd, ui. Daz referred to the assault as an assassination

attempt; The Mexican Herald, September 17, 1897; El Popular, September 19, 1897;
Rbago, Historia del gran crimen, 1320; Valads, El Porrismo, 7172.
21. El Hijo del Ahuizote, August 8, 1897; El Imparcial, May 16, 1897; Rbago,
Historia del gran crimen, 119; Valads, El Porrismo, 7273.
22. The Mexican Herald, September 17, 1917; El Popular, September 19, 1897.
23. The Mexican Herald, September 18, 1917, September 21, 1917.
25. Procesados, Atisbos, June 21, 1958; El Imparcial, September 21, 1897; The
Mexican Herald, September 19, 1897; Rohlfes, Police and Penal Correction, 60
61; Coso Villegas, Historia moderna, 68586.
26. The Mexican Herald, September 22, 1897; Valads, El Porrismo, 74.
27. El Imparcial, September 23, 1897; El Popular, September 25, 1897.
28. El Popular, September 23, 1897, September 25, 1897.
29. El Imparcial, September 20, 1897; The Mexican Herald, September 24,
1897.
30. El Popular, October 17, 1897, September 22, 1897; Clayton Powell to John
Sherman, Secretary of State, September 17, 1897, National Archives Microlm
Publication m280, Roll 125, Despatches from U.S. Ministers to Mexico, 1823
1906, Record Group 59, National Archives. Some witnesses even mentioned that
Arroyo had been trying to embrace Daz.
31. The Mexican Herald, September 25, 1897.
32. El Popular, September 26, 1897, October 12, 1897.
35. The Mexican Herald, September 25, 1897; El Popular, September 26, 1897;
Prida, De la dictatura a la anarqua!, 144.
36. El Popular, September 26, 1897, September 27, 1897.
37. M. Romero to Porrio Daz, October 4, 1897, Exp. 013546, Legajo 22,
cpd, ui.
38. Rbago, Historia del gran crimen, 3536.
39. Arenas Guzmn, 50 Retablos, 19091; El Popular, November 18, 1897; Rbago,
Historia del gran crimen, 3536.
43. El Imparcial, November 20, 1897, November 21, 1897, November 22,
1897.
44. Barrera Bassols, El caso Villavicencio, 50; Iturribara, Porrio Daz, 265; Knight,
Mexican Revolution, vol. 2, 32; Prida, De la dictadura a la anarquia!, 14546; Rbago,
Historia del gran crimen, 5377.
45. Fornaro, Daz, 2729; Rbago, Historia del gran crimen, 2931.

46. Bulnes, El verdadero Daz, 310; Fornaro, Daz, 7475.
47. Frank, Posadas Broadsheets, 67.
48. Pita was Pueblas notorious jefe poltico; Crnica ilustrada, 1118.
50. Lomnitz, Death and the Idea of Mexico, 37581.
Conclusion
1. Robleto, Crmenes celebres, 2064.
3. For a comparative study of the Latin American middle class, see Owensby,
Modernity.
4. Mexicos Middle Class takes to the Streets, Business Week, July 12, 2004,
55; New York Times, June 28, 2004.
5. Padilla Arroyo, De Belem a Lecumberri, 2124, 97144. For the development
of colonial cities, see Kinsburner, Colonial Spanish-American City.
6. El Paso Times, November 19, 2000.

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Index
Page numbers in italics refer to Avila, Cleotilde, 91

illustrations.
Barrera, Ana, 14142
abortion, 14647, 14950, 15253 Barrera, Juan, 141
Abrego, Federico, 162, 181; career of, 34, Barrera, Mara, 181; autopsy of, 146,
131, 132, 140; case against, 14748; 14849; exhumation of, 14446; ill-
imprisonment of, 14853; letter of, ness of, 14142, 14950, 15152;
to Salom Ruiz, 14344; newspaper investigation into death of, 131, 132,
coverage of, 14546; relationship of, 140; relationship of, with Federico
with Mara Barrera, 141, 142, 14748; Abrego, 138, 141, 142
trial of, 15153; witnesses against, Barrio del Nio Perdido, 22
149, 15052 Bashford, Alison, 136, 145
Agostoni, Claudia, 140
Battalla, Diodoro, 176
Aguilar, Mara Josefa, 101
Beezley, William H., 2, 34
Aguirre, Ignacio, 117
Beln prison, 3537, 13536
Aguirre, Juan C., 51, 61, 6263
Bellido, Manuel, 168, 17172
Albeitero, Mariano, 102, 103, 1046, 107,
Belmonte, Mara, 13738
109
Bentham, Jeremy, 36
alcohol consumption: crime and, 40, 48,
Berger, Amadeo, 141, 14748, 151
67, 9091, 94, 119; by the poor, 2330,
Berriozbal, Felipe, 166, 175
134, 135; by women, 5354, 64
Altamira, Francisco, 140, 147, 14849 Bertillon, Alphonse, 74
Alvarado, Salvador, 92 Blancarte, Elpidia, 41
lvarez, Tomasa, 4445 Bliss, Catherine, 29
Anderson, Benedict, 3 bordellos, 30, 101. See also prostitutes
Antonio El Chaleco, 60 Bravo, Luis G., 172, 174
Arnold, David, 138 Brilanti, Jos Mara, 9899, 1045
Arroyo, Arnulfo, 4, 35, 154; arrest of, Brilanti robbery: arrests for, 102; convic-
164; assault of, on Porrio Daz, 155, tions for, 10911; events of, 98100,
16164; murder of, 15556, 16465, 1045; investigation of, 1012; Jess
17174; police involvement in death del Raso gang and, 1026; money
of, 16469 from, 10611
Buena Vista, 182 7680; drug abuse and, 42; exhu-
Buenrrostro, Gregorio, 7576 mations and, 13839, 14446; fear
Bufngton, Robert, 109 of, 810; organized, 11011, 130; of
Bulnes, Francisco, 29 passion, 4043, 7172, 7375, 8788;
sexual, 4244; waves of, in Mexico
Caballero, Aurelio, 11526 City, 5, 98, 158, 18182. See also gam-
Cabrera, Miguel, 94, 112, 114, 129; bling; murder; prostitutes; robberies
Arnulfo Arroyo and, 16568, 17273; Crimenes celebres (Robleto), 179
death of, 177; in literature, 179 Cruz, Jacinto, 114
Canal de la Viga, 21 Cullar, Cndido, 16667, 172, 174
Candelaria de los Patos, 21, 133
Carballeda, Luis, 164; appointment of, as de Fornaro, Carlo, 175, 176
inspector general, 157; and La Profesa de la Hoz, Manuel F., 79
Jewelry Store robbery, 112, 11314, del Raso, Eduardo, 101
11516; newspaper coverage of, 129; del Raso, Jess, 100101, 1026, 10811
trial of, 12728 del Raso, Rafael, 101
Carmen, 18 del Raso, Teodoro, 100, 101
Carmillo, Jos Mara, 92 Del Rastro, 18
casas de cita, 8283 Daz, Flix, 64
Castaeda, Francisco, 15960 Daz, Porrio: Arnulfo Arroyo and,
Castillo, Manuel, 101 155, 16164; and arrest of Eduardo
cemeteries, 13435 Velsquez, 166; criticism of, 156;
Cervantes, Antonio, 168 enemies of, 34; Francisco Guerreros
El Chalequero. See Guerrero, Francisco sentence appealed to, 62; Luis Yza-
Chapela, Manuel, 28 guirres sentence appealed to, 9495;
Chapultepec Castle, 23 Mexico City police and, 157, 16061,
Chavarria, Jos Concepcon, 112 170; power of, 97, 180; rise of, 2, 46
children, 7576, 13738, 15960 Dolores Cemetery, 37, 13435, 144
Chopo, 20 Domnguez, Juan, 92
Chumacero, Antonio, 100 Domnguez, Sabino, 93
Clayton, Powell, 16869 drug abuse, 42
colonias: peripheral, 1821, 134, 182; Duran, Dolores, 13839
wealthy, 2223. See also specic colonias
Comonfort, Jess, 101 elites: depictions of domestic violence by,
Compaa Expendedora de Pulques, 29 4243; drinking, gambling, and pros-
Comte, Auguste, 2 titution among, 23; fascination of,
Condesa, 19 with crime among lower class, 4243,
Corona, Clemente, 125 7273, 18081; fascination of, with La
Corral, Ramn, 28 Bolsa, 1213, 1617; and fear of crime,
Corts, Florencio, 175 8; and fear of prostitution, 3132; and
crime(s): against children, 7576, fear of the poor, 5051, 13334; health
13738, 15960; alcohol consumption care of, 13132; morality and views
and, 2627, 40, 48, 5354, 67, 9091, of, on lower class, 34, 1819, 29, 80,
94, 119; among middle class, 70, 155, 8687, 13940, 184n16; neighbor-
16263, 181; committed by women, hoods of, 22, 9798; production and
214 Index
sale of pulque by, 2829; views of, on Gonzlez, Pedro, 106
crimes of passion, 7374; views of, on Gonzlez, Rafaela, 13738
honor and underclass, 76; views of, on Gonzlez, Simn, 102, 103, 1045, 106,
prostitutes, 23, 7980, 13839; views 108, 110
of, on pulque, 2527; views of, on Gonzlez, Soledad, 54, 61, 62
underworld, 7879, 11718, 18081; Gonzlez Coso, Manual, 166, 17576
views of, on urban hygiene, 13334, Guadalupe-Hidalgo, 19, 54, 55, 63
153 Guadalupe Posada, Jos, 17677
Escandon, Carmen Ramos, 89 Guerrero (colonia), 20
Escovedo, Juana, 7576 Guerrero, Antonio, 4546
Espinoza, Antonio, 46 Guerrero, Francisco, 12, 7, 19, 37,
Esquerro, Manuel, 90 94, 111, 129, 132, 137, 162; alcohol
Esquia, Ydelfonso, 116 consumption by, 5354; and appeal of
Esteva, Adalberto, 51 verdict, 6263; arrests of, 49, 5456;
Esteves, Lorenzo, 11112 case against, 5860, 6468; childhood
Estrada, Heriberto, 16667 of, 4749; children of, 48; confession
exhumations, 13839, 14446 by, 6566; conviction of, 38, 6162,
68; court testimony of, 12; death of,
El Fandango, 15859 68; defense of, 5661, 6768; elites
Fliex, Eulalia, 42 on, 181; family history of, 39, 47; rst
Ferri, Enrico, 67 trial of, 3839, 5063; government use
Flores, Carlos, 169, 17475, 176 of, 5859, 6870; in literature, 179;
Flores, Felipe, 1045, 108, 110 marriage of, 4748, 60, 63; prostitu-
Flores, Luis, 37 tion and, 4849; rise of the Porriato
Flores, Mara Carmen, 15960 and, 46; second trial of, 6468, 69;
Fragoso, Catalina, 40 sentencing of, 62; sexual experiences
Francisca N. La Chicharra, 5253, 61 of, 4849; witnesses against, 5960,
Franco, Daniel, 142 65, 138; women murdered by, 5254
French, William E., 10, 33 Guerrero, Generoso, 170
Guerrero, Julio: La genesis del crimen en
La Gaceta de Policia, 74, 139 Mxico, 39
Gallardo, Murcia, 52, 53, 55, 56, 61, 62 Guerrero, Manuel, 125
gambling, 23, 2425, 3334 Guerrero, Petronillo, 4546
Gamboa, Federico, 33 Guillas, Jolle, 7273
gangs, 1016 Gutirrez, Cresencio, 26
Garca, Candelaria, 56 Gutirrez, Esperanza, 33, 7680
Garca, Carlos, 6768 Gutirrez, J. Jess, 4041
Garca del Castillo, Juan, 28 Gutirrez, Manuel, 140
La genesis del crimen en Mxico (Guerrero),
39 health and sanitation, 13132; elite views
Gmez, Miguel, 174 on, 13334; exhumations and, 13839,
Gmez Puente, Fernando, 5152, 57 14446; government responses to
Gonzlez, Emilia, 54, 61 problems with, 134, 13637, 153; in
Gonzlez, Francisco, 15960 poor areas, 13334, 13839; in prison,
Gonzlez, Luz, 101 13536; venereal diseases and, 13738
Index 215
Hernndez, Abundio, 28 Lpez, Agustn, 115
Hernndez, Manuela, 112, 113 Lpez, Herminio, 13738
Hernndez Aguirre, Toms, 8, 11213, Lpez, Mara Refugio, 61
115, 12324, 12627, 129, 162 Lpez, Yldefonso, 119
Herrerias, Antonio, 117, 118, 12526 Lpez de Domnguez, Adela, 139
Hidalgo, 22, 24 Lpez Obrador, Andrs Manuel, 181
Hinojosa, Francisco, 114 Loscano, Angela, 100
The Hispanic American Review, 10
honor, 76, 86 Macedo, Miguel, 26
houses of appointment. See casas de cita Macedo, Pablo, 29
Huinzardt, Francisco, 168, 174 Macias, Silvestre, 165
Margarita La Burra Panda, 52
El Imparcial, 5, 48, 131; on Arnulfo Arroyo, marijuana, 42
177; on crimes of passion, 74; on Martnez, Ansencio Antonio, 42
Federico Abrego, 14546; on La Bolsa, Martnez, Bruno, 35
12, 16, 17, 19, 39; on pulque, 26; on Martnez, Francisca, 59
sanitation, 133, 136 Martnez, Jess, 12126, 12728, 129
incest, 4243 Martnez, Luisa, 106, 1078, 108
investigations, police, 5456, 98102 Martnez, Mara de Jess, 49, 59, 61
Irwin, Robert McKee, 43 Martnez, Mara Flix, 42
Ixtapalapa, 32 Martnez, Miguel, 102, 103, 1045, 10811
Martnez, Rafael, 102, 1046, 108
Jarero, Francisco, 114 Martnez Arroyo, Tiberio, 42
Matadores de mujeres (Roumagnac), 74
Labastida, Francisco, 116, 11819, 121 Mauri, Carlota, 7375
La Bolsa: crime in, 1617, 162; history Maya, Manuel, 165
of, 1623; living conditions in, 16, 48, Mayorga, Antonio, 53, 55, 59
137; newspaper coverage of, 1213, 19, McClintock, Anne, 18
39; police protection in, 16 McKinley, William, 164
La Esmeralda Jewelry Store, 11113 Meade, Teresa A., 133
Lake Texcoco, 16 Medical Gazette, 48
La Maza, 18 Medina, Mara Jess, 100, 101
Landa y Escandn, Guillermo, 28, 29 Medina y Ornelas, Salvador, 94, 128
La Palma, 21 Mena, Francisco Z., 166
La Profesa Jewelry Store robbery, 89, Mendizabal, Gregorio, 141
35; events of, 11114; investigation of, Mendoza, Candelaria, 49, 61
11420; newspaper coverage of, 129; Mexico City: cemeteries in, 13435; as
planning of, 12026; trial for, 12628 center of Porrian government, 1316,
La Soledada, 21 16061, 171; crime narratives of, 5;
laws and regulations: for casas de cita, crime waves in, 3, 98, 158, 18182;
8283; for gambling, 3334; for pros- districts of, 1415, 1923, 182; down-
titution, 2931; for pulqueras, 2728 town area of, 22; efforts of, against
Ledesma, Mara, 15152, 152 crime, 910, 16061; liberal ideas and,
Liceaga, Octaviano, 17172 2; medicine in, 140; modernity in, 2,
Lomnitz, Claudio, 177 1516, 7980, 98, 13335, 13839,
216 Index
14546, 153, 163; morality in, 68; Navarro, Mara, 4748, 60, 63
nationalism in, 3; outskirts of, 1213; Necoechea, Miguel, 114
peripheral colonias of, 1821, 134, 182; Negrete, Jess, 20, 35, 129
popular mythology of, 17778; regula- Nevraumont, Gerardo, 118, 12128
tions on pulqueras in, 2728; sanita- newspapers, 5, 1011; and coverage of
tion in, 13334, 153; underworld of, murders, 4142, 57, 95, 128, 129,
610, 5859, 7879; wealthy colonias 13132, 150, 151; and coverage of
of, 2223, 9798 police, 15859, 168, 169; on exhuma-
Meza, Francisco, 99, 103, 109 tions, 13839; inuence of, on public
Meza, Julin, 9899, 107 opinion, 7273; on La Bolsa, 1213,
middle class, 3, 8, 70; and criminals, 70, 16, 17, 19, 39; outside Mexico, 171; on
155, 16263, 181; and morality, 33, 84, the poor, 1213, 3940, 48; on prosti-
9596; and sexuality, 9596 tution, 32, 33; on pulque, 26
Milanes, Antonio, 165, 168 New York Journal, 171
Millin, Herminia, 4344 Noriega, Vicente, 168, 17475
Mimbera, Camilo, 18
Miranda, Mara Carmen, 107 Ocampo, Judge, 6566, 114
modernity: elites and, 2, 1516, 7980, Ocampo, Pedro, 112, 14748
98; medicine and, 14546; sanita- Ontiveros, Mara Piedad, 7, 70, 7172,
tion and, 13334, 153; sexuality, poor 73, 181; murder of, by Luis Yza-
women, and, 13839; victims of, guirre, 9093; newspaper coverage
15354
of, 95; portrayal of, by prosecutors,
Monasterio, Ortiz, 163
9394; relationship of, with Carlos
El Monitor Republicano, 32
Rodrguez, 8889; relationship of,
Monroy, Rafaela, 99
with Luis Yzaguirre, 8089; role of, in
Montaez, Mercedes, 7576
society, 89; shame felt by, 84
Montes, Pablo Gonzlez, 110
organized crime, 11011, 130
Montoya, Jos, 5657, 62
Ortega, Genaro, 4445
Morales, Yldefonso, 112
Ortigoza, Salvador, 7680
morality, Porrian: of elite, 1819, 29, 80,
Ortiz, Jess, 162
8687, 13940; honor and, 76, 86; of
out-of-wedlock pregnancy, 8384,
middle class, 33, 84, 9596
14647, 149. See also pregnancy
Morelos, 18
Oviedo, Dmaso, 44
Moreno, Francisco, 63
Muoz, Soa, 112, 113
Padilla, Manuel, 28
murder: of Arnulfo Arroyo, 15556,
Pardav, Ignacio, 168, 17273, 174
16465, 17174; by Francisco Guer-
rero, 5254, 6163; of Mara Piedad Paseo de la Reforma, 15
Ontiveros, 9093; newspaper coverage La Patria, 95
of, 4042, 95, 128, 129, 150, 151; rob- Pavn, Jos Mara, 65, 79, 174
bery and, 11213; of Toms Hernndez Pedrueza, Antonio Ramos, 94
Aguirre, 8, 11213, 115, 12324; of Pea, Constancia, 124, 128
women, 1, 2021, 4042, 4344 Pea, Tomasa, 4041
Peralvillo, 19, 25, 49, 53
El Nacional, 57 Perea, ngel, 56
Index 217
Prez, Catalina, 4546 29; regulations and laws and, 2931;
Piccato, Pablo, 117 semiofcial accounts of, 3031
Pimentel y Fagoaga, Fernando, 29 Pulido, Mara Refugio, 83, 87, 90, 91
police: abuse of the poor by, 15961; pulque, 2330, 32, 40, 91, 135
and accusations of torture, 10910,
12728, 15859; arrests by, for Ramirez, Mara, 43, 46
public drunkenness, 27; and arrests Ramirez Arellano, Enrique, 116
of Francisco Guerrero, 49, 5456; El Resumen, 158
corruption of, 16477; as extension Reyero, Dolores, 108
of Porrian policies, 15657; and Reyero, Nicols, 108, 117
investigations of deaths, 144, 14748; Reyero, Vicente, 11516, 117
and investigations of murders, 5456; Reyes, Bonifacio, 153
and investigations of robberies, Reyes, Encarnacin, 153
98102, 11320; Mexico City districts Reyes, Petronilo, 42
and, 1415, 1920, 182; morality of, Ricoy, Carlota, 171
158; newspaper coverage of, 15859, Rio del Consulado, 1, 12, 5254, 63, 65,
168, 169; propaganda by, 16061; 67, 177
protection of, in good areas, 1516; Rivera Mutio, Manuel, 165
public opinion of, 120, 156, 15758; Roa, Manuel, 174
pulqueras and, 25; regulation of robberies. See Brilanti robbery; La Profesa
prostitution by, 2930 Jewelry Store robbery
poor, the: alcohol consumption by, Robinson, Santiago, 102, 1034, 106,
2330, 134, 135; deaths of, 13839; 109, 110
elite fear of, 5051, 13334; health Robles, Juan, 55
care of, 13132; immigration of, from Robles, Mara Dolores, 15960
rural areas, 13, 14; living conditions Robleto, Hernan: Crimenes celebres, 179
of, 13334; modernity and, 13839; Rodrguez, Bibiana, 59, 60
newspaper coverage of, 1213, 3940; Rodrguez, Carlos: and murder of Mara
police abuse and, 15961; reputation Piedad Ontiveros, 9293; relationship
of criminals among, 4546; stereo- of, with Mara Piedad Ontiveros and
types of, 3940 Luis Yzaguirre, 71, 8182, 8488, 90
El Popular, 168, 169 Rodrguez, Josfa, 62
Porriato. See Mexico City Rodrguez, Jos Ins, 65
positivism, 2 Rodrguez, Lucio, 4344
Pradillo, Agustn, 163 Rodrguez Talavera, Rafael, 79
pregnancy, 8384, 14647, 14950, Rojas, Moises, 162
15253 Romero, Rafaela, 46
prisons, 13536. See also Beln prison; Romero, Sabino, 4546
San Juan de Ula prison Ronquillo, Cipriano, 4445
prostitutes: in Beln prison, 35; crime Rosas, Margarita, 59, 61
by, 7677; elite views on, 23, Roumagnac, Carlos: on Francisco Guer-
7980, 13839; murder of, 5253, rero, 38, 41, 47, 49, 6768, 197n2;
6263; newspaper coverage of, 32, 33, Matadores de mujeres, 74
13839; poverty and, 48; pulque and, Ruiz, Pedro, 92
218 Index
Ruiz, Salom, 14144 Torres, Abel, 165
Torres, Agustn, 125
Saenz, Jess, 167 Tortolero, Manuel, 164, 170
Salazar, Josena, 15051 Treffel, Nicols, 12026, 12728
Saldivar, Alfredo, 27 trial(s), 12; of Federico Abrego, 15153;
San Antonio Abad, 22 of Francisco Guerrero, 3839, 5063,
Snchez, Camilia, 55, 62 6468, 69; of Jess del Raso gang,
Snchez, Juan, 114 10911; of La Profesa Jewelry Store
Snchez, Lorenza, 139 robbers, 12628; of Luis Yzaguirre,
Snchez, Mauro, 16465, 167 9395; of police ofcers, 17177
San Juan de Ula prison, 62, 130 Trujano, Luis, 102, 103, 1045, 106, 108,
San Lzaro, 21 109, 110
San Pablo, 21 Tuxtepec Revolution, 2, 113
San Pedro, 21 typhus, 13536
San Rafael, 23, 77
San Sebastin, 18 underworld: elite views on, 7879,
Santa Ana, 19, 32, 49, 55 11718, 18081; gangs in, 1026;
Santa Anita, 21 government prosecutors and, 5859,
Santa Cruz, 21, 22
6870; the middle class and, 9596;
Santa Julia, 20, 23
stories about, 610
Santa Mara, 20
El Universal Grco, 129
Santo Toms, 20
urban hygiene. See health and sanitation
scientic liberalism, 2
Uribe, Genevevo, 168
Seplveda, Arcadio, 168, 174
Urrutia, Lorenza, 55, 61
Serdan, Aquiles, 175, 177
serial killers, 1, 19. See also Guerrero,
Valle Gmez, 18, 66
Francisco
Vallejo, Antonio, 41
sexuality: casas de cita and, 8283; of
Vazquez, Sabino, 168, 174
middle class, 9596; minors and,
Vega, Adolfo, 40
7576, 13738, 15960; urban hygiene
Vega, Patricia, 108
and, 13738
Velsquez, Eduardo, 35, 163, 164, 181;
Sheridan, Carlos, 9091
social Darwinism, 2 appointment of, as inspector, 164;
Soto, Genoveva, 66 arrest of, 16668; conspiracy orches-
Sousa, Carlos, 116, 118, 12126, 128 trated by, 17177; death of, 15556,
Spencer, Herbert, 2 16971, 176
Spindola, Rafael Reyes, 5 venereal diseases, 13738
Verastegui, Jos, 126
Tacubaya, 23 Verdugo, Agustn, 51
Tagle, Luis, 11516 Vilchis, Mara Ysabel, 101
Tepito, 18, 182 Villa, Mara, 33, 7680
Tivol del Eliseo, 77, 7980, 106 Villagrn, Antonia, 63
Tlalpan, 134 Villavicencio, Antonio, 16768, 17177
Tlaxcoaque, 22 Villegas, Arnulfo, 7375
Tlaxpana, 20 Voekel, Pamela, 137
Index 219
Wesche, Gerardo, 118 Yaez, Francisco, 135
women: abortion and, 14647, 14950, Yerbas, Francisca, 62
15253; alcohol consumption by, Yzaguirre, Luis, 7, 70, 7172, 162, 181;
5354, 64; as crime victims, 1, 2021, alcohol consumption by, 9091, 94;
4042, 4344, 5253, 6263, 9093, childhood of, 8182; murder of Mara
13132; as criminals, 7680; moder- Piedad Ontiveros by, 9093; relation-
nity and deaths of, 13839; murder of, ship of, with Mara Piedad Ontiveros,
by Francisco Guerrero, 5254; preg- 8089; trial of, 9395
nancy and, 8384, 14647, 14950,
15253; in prison, 35; traditional roles Zivy, David, 34
of, 89. See also prostitutes Zoquipa, 21
working class. See poor, the Zuniga, Alberto, 18
220 Index

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The Imagined Underworld

The Imagined Underworld

James Alex Garza

University of Nebraska Press | Lincoln & London

Library of Congress Cataloging-

Garza, James Alex.

List of Illustrations . . . viii

in apr il 18 8 3 Mexico City police made a grisly discovery in the

Tales from the Porrian Archives

Charting the Imagined City

They always nd dead bodies around here.Francisco Guerrero, El

in july 1908 the Mexico City newspaper El Imparcial published a

The History of the Other Side

Charting the Imagined City 17

The Anteroom of Hell

The Phantom City

Charting the Imagined City 37

The Terror of Peralvillo, El Chalequero

in 1 8 9 0 pro s e cu t o rs in Mexico City tried and convicted

Criminalizing the Domestic

The Cesspool of Lust

Under the Aztec Sun

Resurrecting the Other Side

70 The Terror of Peralvillo, El Chalequero

Love, Betrayal, and Death in the Underworld

o n e f a l l a f t e r n o o n in Mexico City, persons walking

Love, Porrian Style

Luis and Piedad

Ontiveross reference to her menstrual cycle and to friends who were

Love, Betrayal, and Death in the Underworld 83

Love, Betrayal, and Death in the Underworld 85

The increasingly desperate Yzaguirre, tempted by Ontiveross own

86 Love, Betrayal, and Death in the Underworld

Ontiveross powerful message made clear her true feelings for

88 Love, Betrayal, and Death in the Underworld

Love, Betrayal, and Death in the Underworld 89

90 Love, Betrayal, and Death in the Underworld

Love, Betrayal, and Death in the Underworld 91

The Day of Reckoning

96 Love, Betrayal, and Death in the Underworld

Organized Crime and the Porrian State

A plague of thieves has descended on the city. The police, reportedly,

the year 1 8 9 0 ma rk e d a crucial time in the development of

The Brilanti Robbery

Organized Crime and the Porrian State 101

Anatomy of the Underworld

The Mean Streets

The Usual Suspects

Threat to the State

Organized Crime and the Porrian State 129

130 Organized Crime and the Porrian State

Disease, Decay, and the Strange Case of

ac ting o n a t i p, on October 5, 1898, Mexico City police

Modernitys Male Gaze

The Mysterious Death of Mara Barrera

Abrego explained that as Maras boyfriend he could be trusted to

latest scientic advances, including a process developed in Mexico

Unfortunately, the expansion of progress has brought to soci-

El Imparcial not only condemned the capitals medical community, but,

The Secrets of the Profession

Politics, Corruption, and the Arnulfo Arroyo Affair

the ar nulfo a rro y o ca s e is undoubtedly one of Porrian

Como Mxico no hay dos . . .