In Tezcuco and Tlacopan the order of succession was lineal and hereditary, in Mexico it was collateral and elective. In the two former kingdoms, however, although the sons succeeded their fathers, it was not according to birth, but according to rank; the sons of the queen, or principal wife, who was generally a daughter of the royal house of Mexico, being always preferred to the rest.[3] In Mexico, the eldest surviving brother of the deceased monarch was generally elected to the throne, and when there were no more brothers, then the nephews, commencing with the eldest son of the first brother that had died; but this order was not necessarily observed, since the electors, though restricted in their choice to one family, could set aside the claims of those whom they considered incompetent to reign; and, indeed, it was their particular duty to select from among the relatives of the deceased king the one best fitted to bear the dignity and responsibility of supreme lord.[4] During the early days of the Mexican monarchy the king was elected by vote of the whole people, who were guided in their choice by their leaders; even the women appear to have had a voice in the matter at this period.[5] Afterwards, the duty of electing the king of Mexico devolved upon four or five of the chief men of the empire. The kings of Tezcuco and Tlacopan were also electors, but with merely an honorary rank; they ratified the decision of the others, but probably took no direct part in the election, although their influence and wishes doubtless carried great weight with the council. As soon as the new king had been chosen the body of electors was dissolved, and others were appointed in their place, whose duties also terminated with their first electoral vote.[6]

This plan of election was not without its advantages. As the persons to whom the choice was entrusted were great ministers or lords who lived at court, they had better opportunities of observing the true character of the future candidates for the throne than the common people, who are ever too apt to judge, by pleasing exterior rather than by real merit, those with whose private life they can have no acquaintance. In the next place, the high private rank of the Mexican electors placed them beyond the ordinary influence of bribery or threats; and thus the state was in a measure free from that system of corruption which makes the voice of the people a mockery in more democratic communities, and which would have prevailed to a far greater extent in a country where feudal relations existed between lord and vassal. Then again, the freedom of choice accorded to electors enabled them to prevent imbeciles from assuming the responsibilities of kingship, and thus the most conspicuous evil of an hereditary monarchy was avoided.

POWER OF THE MEXICAN KINGS.

The almost absolute authority vested in the person of the sovereign rendered great discrimination necessary in his selection. It was essential that the ruler of a people surrounded by enemies and continually bent upon conquest, should be an approved and valiant warrior; having the personal direction of state affairs, it was necessary that he should be a deep and subtle politician; the gross superstition and theocratic tendencies of the governed required the governor to be versed in religion, holding the gods in reverence; and the records of the nation prove that he was generally a man of culture, and a patron of art and science.

In its first stages the Mexican monarchy partook rather of an aristocratic than of an absolute nature. Though the king was ostensibly the supreme head of the state, he was expected to confer with his council, which was composed of the royal electors, and other exalted personages, before deciding upon any important step;[7] and though the legislative power rested entirely in his hands, the executive government was entrusted to regularly appointed officials and courts of justice. As the empire, owing to the able administration of a succession of conquering princes, increased in greatness, the royal power gradually increased, although I find nothing of constitutional amendments or reconstructions until the time of Montezuma II., when the authority of all tribunals was reduced almost to a dead letter, if opposed to the desires or commands of the king.

The neighboring independent and powerful kingdom of Michoacan was governed by an absolute monarch, who usually resided at his capital, on Lake Patzcuaro. Over each province was placed a governor, chosen from the first ranks of the nobility, who ruled with great if not absolute authority, in the name of the king, and maintained a court that was in almost every respect a miniature of that of his sovereign. The order of succession was hereditary and lineal, the eldest son generally succeeding to the throne. The selection of a successor, however, was left to the reigning king, who, when he felt himself to be near his end, was at liberty to choose from among his sons the one whom he thought best fitted to govern. In order to test his capability and accustom him to handling the reigns of government, and that he might have the old monarch's advice, the chosen heir immediately began to exercise the functions of king. A custom similar to this existed among the ancient Toltecs. Their kings were only permitted to reign for a xiuhmolpilli, that is to say an 'age,' which was fifty-two years, after which time the eldest son was invested with royal authority and commenced to reign.[8] When the old Michoacan monarch fell sick, the son who had been nominated as his successor immediately dispatched messengers to all the grandees of the kingdom, with orders to repair immediately to the capital. None was exempt from being present, and a failure to comply with the summons was held to be lèse-majesté. Having assembled at the palace, if the invalid is able to receive them, the nobles pass one by one through his chamber and with words of condolence and encouragement seek to comfort him. Before leaving the palace each mourner deposits in the throne-room certain presents, brought for the occasion as a more substantial testimonial of his sorrow. If, however, the physicians pronounce the royal patient beyond hope of recovery, no one is allowed to see him.[9]

GOVERNMENT IN TLASCALA.
THE PONTIFF OF YOPAA.

He who reads the romantic story of the conquest, feels his heart warm towards that staunch little nation of warriors, the Tlascaltecs. There is that about the men who ate their meat saltless for fifty years rather than humble themselves before the mighty despots of Mexico, that savors of the same material that defied the Persian host at Thermopylæ. Had the Tlascaltecs steadily opposed the Spaniards, Cortés never could have gone forward to look upon the face of King Montezuma, nor backward to King Charles as the conqueror of New Spain; the warriors who routed their allied enemies on the bloody plains of Poyauhtlan, assuredly could have offered the hearts of the invaders an acceptable sacrifice to the gods of Tlascala. The state of Tlascala, though invariably spoken of as a republic, was certainly not so in the modern acceptation of the term. At the time of the conquest it was governed by four supreme lords, each independent in his own territory, and possessed of equal authority with the others in matters concerning the welfare of all.[10] A parliament or senate, composed of these four lords and the rest of the nobility, settled the affairs of government, especially those relating to peace and war. The law of succession was much the same as in Michoacan. The chief before his death named the son whom he wished to succeed him, who, however, did not, as in Michoacan, commence to govern until after his father's death. The old chief's choice was restricted in two ways: in the first place the approval of his three colleagues was necessary; and secondly, legitimate sons, that is the sons of a wife to whom he had been united according to certain forms, must take precedence of his other children. In default of sons, the brothers of the deceased chief succeeded.[11] In any event the property of the late ruler was inherited by his brothers, who also, according to a custom which we shall find to be almost universal among the civilized peoples of the New World, married his widows.[12] Such information as I find upon the subject ascribes the same form of government to Cholula and Huexotzinco, that was found in Tlascala.[13] The Miztecs and Zapotecs acknowledged one supreme chief or king; the law of inheritance with them was similar to that of Tlascala, except that in default of sons a daughter could inherit.[14] The Zapotecs appear, at least in the more ancient times, to have been, if possible, even more priest-ridden than their neighbors; the orders of priests existing among them were, as will be seen elsewhere, numerous, and seem to have possessed great power, secular as well as sacerdotal. Yopaa, one of their principal cities, was ruled absolutely by a pontiff, in whom the Zapotec monarchs had a powerful rival. It is impossible to overrate the reverence in which this spiritual king was held. He was looked upon as a god, whom the earth was not worthy to hold, nor the sun to shine upon. He profaned his sanctity if he so much as touched the ground with his foot. The officers who bore his palanquin upon their shoulders were members of the first Zapotec families; he scarcely deigned to look upon anything about him. He never appeared in public, except with the most extraordinary pomp, and all who met him fell with their faces to the ground, fearing that death would overtake them were they to look upon the face of the holy Wiyatao, as he was called. The most powerful lords never entered his presence except with eyes lowered and feet bared, and even the Zapotec princes of the blood must occupy a seat before him lower than his own. Continence was strictly imposed upon the Zapotec priests, and especially was it incumbent upon the pontiff of Yopaa, from the eminence of his position, to be a shining light of chastity for the guidance of those who looked up to him; yet was the pontifical dignity hereditary in the family of the Wiyatao. The way in which this paradox is explained is as follows: on certain days in each year, which were generally celebrated with feasts and dances, it was customary for the high-priest to become drunk. While in this state, seeming to belong neither to heaven nor to earth, one of the most beautiful of the virgins consecrated to the service of the gods was brought to him. If the result of this holy debauch proved to be a male infant, the child was brought up with great care as a prince of the royal family. The eldest son of the reigning pontiff inherited the throne of Yopaa, or in default of children, the high-priest's nearest relative succeeded. The younger children devoted themselves to the service of the gods, or married and remained laymen, according to their inclination or the paternal wish; in either case the most honorable and important positions usually fell to their lot.[15]