In coming on to the west coast it is natural, perhaps, for the reader to expect us to refer briefly to the late civil war in Chili, but we have not attempted in these notes to depict the local political condition of any of the states of South America. In the past they have most of them shown themselves as changeable as the wind, and remarks which would depict the status of to-day might be quite unsuited to that of to-morrow. The average reader is sufficiently familiar with the struggle so lately ended in Chili. One party was led by the late President Balmaceda, in opposition to the other, known as the Congressional party. That which brought about this open warfare was the refusal of Congress any longer to recognize the president on account of his high-handed, illegal, and venal official conduct. A line will illustrate the cause of the outbreak. It was the Constitution of the country as against a Dictatorship. The President of the Chilian Republic, like the President of the United States, has a personal authority such as nowadays is wielded by few constitutional monarchs. Balmaceda proved to be a tyrant of the first water, abusing the power of his position to condemn to death those who opposed him, without even the semblance of a trial. He succeeded in attaching most of the regular army to his cause by profuse promises and the free use of money, while the navy went almost bodily over to the side of Congress. The contest assumed revolutionary proportions, and many battles were fought. As a casual observer, the author heartily coincided with the Congressional party, and rejoices at their wholesale triumph.
The suicidal act which ended Balmaceda's life was no heroic resort, but the deed of a coward fearing to face the consequences of his murderous career. It is not the man who has been actuated by high and noble sentiments who cuts his throat or blows out his brains. Such is the act of the cunning fraud who realizes that he has not only totally failed in his object, but that his true character is known to the world. Suicide has been declared to be the final display of egoism, and it certainly leaves the world with one less thoroughly selfish character. The disappearance of such an individual may produce a momentary ripple on the surface of time, but it fails to leave any permanent mark.
Nearly three hundred miles south of Santiago, capital of Chili, on the Pacific coast, is situated the city of Concepcion. It stands on the right bank of the river Biobio, six or seven miles from its mouth, and contains about twenty-five thousand inhabitants. The people seem to be exceptionally active and enterprising, though at this writing suffering from the effects of the late civil war. It is the third city in point of size and importance in the republic, and dates from over three hundred years ago. It will be remembered also that it once held the place now occupied by Santiago as capital of the country. The city is built in the valley of Mocha, under the coast range of hills, and is justly famed, like Puebla in Mexico, for its pretty women and beautiful flowers. It is a clean and thrifty town, with handsome shops, a charming plaza, and an attractive alameda. This latter deserves special mention. It is a mile long, and beautified with several rows of tall Lombardy poplars, the sight of which carried us to another hemisphere, where those lovely Italian plains stretch away from the environs of Milan towards the foothills of the neighboring Alps and the more distant Apennines. Great things are prognosticated for Concepcion in the near future by its friends, and it is already the principal town of southern Chili. The streets are well paved, and lined by handsome business blocks, together with pleasant dwelling-houses, built low, to avoid the effect of earthquakes, the universal material being sun-dried bricks, finished externally in stucco. The façades are painted in harlequin variety of colors, yellow, blue, and peach-blossom prevailing. The town has really more the appearance of a northern than a southern city, and has long been connected with Valparaiso by railway.
Some of the most extensive coal mines on this part of the continent have been discovered in this vicinity, and are being worked on a large scale. In fact, Coronal, not far away, is the great coaling station on the Chilian coast for steamships bound to Europe or Panama. One would suppose that this coal mining must be quite profitable, as we were told that twenty-five and even thirty dollars per ton was realized for it delivered at the nearest tide-water. The port of Concepcion is some seven miles from the city, where the river Biobio flows into the ocean at Talcahuano,—pronounced Tal-ca-wha'no,—a small town on Concepcion Bay possessing an excellent harbor. There are here a large marine dock, an arsenal, and a seaman's hospital. Close by the shore is a spacious and convenient railway station. The bay is some six miles wide by seven in length. There is a resident population of nearly four thousand, who form an extremely active community. The majority of the houses are of a very humble character and, like those of Concepcion, are built of adobe.
Spanish capitals in the West Indies and South America were originally placed, like Concepcion, some distance from the coast, to render them more secure against the attack of pirates and lawless sea-rovers, who might land from their vessels, burn a town on the seashore, after robbing it of all valuables, and easily make good their escape; whereas to march inland and attack a town far from their base, or to proceed up a shallow river in boats for such a purpose, was a far more difficult, if not indeed an impossible thing to do. Thus Callao is the harbor of Lima; Valparaiso, of Santiago; and Talcahuano, of Concepcion. The situation of the last named capital is admirable, at the head of the bay, which affords one of the best harbors on the west coast of the continent. When the transcontinental railway from Buenos Ayres, on the Atlantic side, is finished, surmounting the passes of the Andes,—already "a foregone conclusion,"—it will have its termination here at Talcahuano, which must then become a great shipping point for New Zealand and Australia. Half a dozen lines of European mail steamers already touch here regularly. The river is too shallow to admit of vessels drawing more than a few feet of water ascending it so far as Concepcion, but Talcahuano is all sufficient as a port.
Few places have been so frequently devastated by fire, flood, and earthquakes, or so often ravaged by war, as has this interesting city. In the early days the Araucanian Indians put the settlers to the sword again and again. This was the bravest of all the native Indian tribes of South America, and is still an unconquered people. The city was laid in ruins so late as 1835 by an earthquake, though no special signs of this destructive visitor are to be seen here to-day. Still, one cannot but feel that with such possibilities hanging over the locality, there must be few people willing to expend freely of their means for substantial building purposes, or to make Concepcion a permanent place of abode. Human nature adapts itself to all exigencies, however, and the place grows rapidly, notwithstanding the discouraging circumstances which we have named. It is not the native but the foreign element of the population which is doing so much for this region. Were the mingled native race to be left to themselves, there would be few signs of progress evinced; they would rapidly lapse into a condition of semi-barbarism. The Chilian proper is a very poor creature as regards morals, intelligence, or true manhood; his instincts are brutal and his aims predaceous.
Like all South American cities, Concepcion is laid out by rule and compass, the fairly broad streets crossing each other at right angles. There is a large and costly cathedral, but a wholesome fear of earthquakes has caused it to be left without the usual twin towers, which gives it an unfinished appearance. The place also contains other churches, a well-appointed theatre, two hospitals, and several edifices devoted to charitable purposes. Opposite the cathedral stands the Intendencia, a large and handsome government house. Telephones and electric lights have long been adopted, and the telegraph poles do much abound. In these foreign places, so far away from home, to see the streets lined, as they are with us, by big, tall poles, holding aloft a maze of wires, is very suggestive; but where can one go that they are not? It is curious to realize that we can step into an office close at hand and promptly communicate with any part of the world. We may have sailed over the ocean many thousands of miles, and have consumed months to reach the spot where we stand, but electricity, like thought, annihilates space, and will take our message instantly to its destination, though it be at the farthest end of the globe. These marvelous facilities are no longer confined to populous centres. Electricity not only bears our messages to the uttermost parts of the world, but it propels the tramway cars in Rome, Boston, and Munich, while it also lights the streets of New York, Auckland in New Zealand, as well as of London and Honolulu.
The importance of Concepcion is manifest from the fact that several new railway connections terminating here have lately been accomplished; but the important event already referred to, of the transcontinental railway, will finally insure her commercial greatness. The town is surrounded by a widespread, fertile country, abounding in both mineral and agricultural wealth, equal to, if not surpassing, any other province in Chili. The city was financially strong before the late civil war, and has still some very wealthy residents. The principal bank of Concepcion, with a capital of one million dollars, paid a dividend to its stockholders in 1890 of sixteen per cent. on the previous year's business. The cathedral and government house, already spoken of, front on the plaza, a large open square ornamented with statuary, trees, and flowers, the latter kept in most exquisite order and constant bloom by means of a singular and original device. It seems that each separate plot of these grounds is owned or cared for by a different family of the citizens, and that a spirit of emulation is thus excited by the effort of the several parties to make their special plot excel in its beauty and fragrance. This keeps the whole plaza in a lovely condition, and makes it the pride of the city.
Society and business circles are mostly composed of foreigners, the German element largely predominating. The native, or humbler classes, as we have already intimated, are a wretchedly low people. They "wake" their dead before burial, much after the style which prevails in Ireland, except that the process is more exaggerated in manner. Drinking and debauchery characterize these occasions, which are continued often for three days at a time, or so long as the means for indulgence in excess last. In case of youthful deaths, the child's cheeks are painted red, and the head is crowned in a fantastic manner, the body being dressed and placed in a sitting position, thus forming a strange and hideous sight. Such treatment of a corpse could only be tolerated by a barbarous people. In the environs of the town, Lazarus jostles Dives. There are here many hovels, as well as a better class of residences. Some of them are wretchedly poor, built of mud and bamboo, the inhabitants half-naked and wholly starved, if one may judge by their appearance. On Saturday, which in Spanish towns and cities is called "poor day," the streets of Concepcion are full of either assumed or real mendicants. The Spanish race is one of chronic beggars,—they seem born so. Scarcely less of a nuisance than the beggars are the army of half-starved, mongrel, neglected dogs, that throng in the streets of the city, rivaling Constantinople.
It should be mentioned that Concepcion has a good system of tramway service, and that the cars have attached to them a class of neat, pretty, and modest girls for conductors, who wear natty straw hats, snow white aprons, and are supplied with a leather cash bag hung by a strap about the neck. It seems rather incongruous that while so many evidences of real progress abound in this city, water, the prime necessity of life, should be peddled about the streets by the bucketful. Now is the time to perfect a system of drainage, and to introduce an adequate supply of good water, from easily available sources.
The inexhaustible coal fields already mentioned, which are situated but a few miles away, must prove to be a lasting source of prosperity to Concepcion. They are far more important and valuable, all things considered, than a gold or silver mine near at hand would be. Indeed, it is found in the long run that the latter kind of mineral discoveries do not always tend to the material benefit of the community in which they are found. The earth produces far more profitable crops than gold and precious stones, even when considered in the most mercenary light. The business prospects of Concepcion, as we have pointed out in detail, are exceedingly promising. That the city is destined eventually to rival Valparaiso seems more than probable, and yet there is another side to this favorable aspect thus presented, which it is not wise to ignore. True, the climate is equable and healthy, but that great drawback, the liability to earthquakes and tidal waves, still remains, like a dark, portending shadow. In spite of this startling possibility there is something of a "boom" already instituted, at this writing, as to the prices of land in and about both the port and city of Concepcion. It is a fact that people will soon become calloused and heedless of almost any familiar danger. Jack turns in and quickly falls to sleep, when the watch below is called and relieves him from the deck, though the ship is in the midst of cyclone latitudes, and while a half-gale is blowing. The people of Torre del Grecco, at the base of the volcano, do not sleep any less soundly to-day because Pompeii was utterly destroyed by Vesuvius eighteen or nineteen centuries ago. The earthquake of 1835 first shook Talcahuano nearly to pieces, and then completed its destruction by a tidal wave which swept what remained of it into the sea.
It goes without saying that most of the fruits and staple products of the tropics are to be found both at Concepcion and at the port of Talcahuano. Each place we visit seems to have some specialty in this line. Here, it is the watermelon. Favored by the soil and the climate, this fruit is developed to its maximum in weight, richness of flavor, and general perfection. They are sold cheap enough everywhere. A centavo will buy a large ripe one. Street carts and donkeys are laden with them, and so are the decks of all outgoing vessels. It is both food and drink to the poor peons, who consume the fruit in quantities strongly suggestive of cholera, dropsy, or some other dreadful illness. Any one accustomed to travel in our Southern States, in the right season of the year, will have observed how voraciously the negro population, young and old, eat of the cheap, ripe crop of watermelons; but these South American peons have a capacity for storage and digestion of this really wholesome article, beyond all comparison. A child not more than ten years of age will devour the ripe portion of a large melon in a few minutes, and no ill effects seem to follow. An adult eats two at a meal which would weigh, we are afraid to say how much, but they are considerably larger than the average melons which are brought to New England from the South. After all, the watermelon is healthful food, though it is more filling than nourishing. It will be remembered that the famous fasting individual, Dr. Tanner, after eating nothing for forty days and forty nights, took for his first article of nourishment, at the close of this time of fasting, half a watermelon, and that he retained and digested it successfully.
Valparaiso.—Principal South American Port of the Pacific.—A Good Harbor.—Tallest Mountain on this Continent.—The Newspaper Press.—Warlike Aspect.—Girls as Car Conductors.—Chilian Exports.—Foreign Merchants.—Effects of Civil War.—Gambling in Private Houses.—Immigration.—Culture of the Grape.—Agriculture.—Island of Juan Fernandez.
Valparaiso—"Vale of Paradise"—was thus fancifully named because of its assumed loveliness. True, it is beautifully situated, and is a fine city of its class, located in an admirable semicircular bay, not upon one, but upon many hills, backed by a crescent-shaped mountain range. But when one compares its harbor to that of Naples, or Sydney in Australia, for picturesqueness of scenery, as is often done, it only provokes invidious remarks. The matchless harbor of Rio Janeiro, on the eastern coast of the continent, already fully described in these pages, is far more charming in general effect and in all of its surroundings, not to mention that it is more than twenty times as large. Valparaiso is the principal seaport of Chili, and indeed, for the present, it is the main port of the entire west coast of South America. By consulting the map it will be readily seen that Chili must ever be a maritime nation, depending more upon an effective navy than an army. The possession of the national ships of war by the Congressional party in the revolution so lately terminated gave them virtual control of the cities along the coast, at the outbreak of the émeute, and this means they employed against the Presidential party with the most ruthless effect. They did not hesitate to savagely cannonade and shell a city, though two thirds of the occupants were their own friends and supporters, provided it was held ostensibly, and for the time being only, by the supporters of Balmaceda. The outrageous bombardment of Iquique is an instance in illustration of this charge. The Chilian delights to be cruel; it is his instinct to destroy and to plunder. He is by nature boastful, passionate, and headstrong. This disposition seems to be born in the race, is in fact a matter of heredity, fostered by bull-fights and kindred entertainments. But the country must now pay for the enormous destruction of property of which the directors of the civil war have been guilty. The European powers have already begun to send in their demands for damages done to their non-combatant merchants. England comes first with a bill calling for payment of sixty million dollars. Spain, Italy, and Germany will follow. It is estimated that a hundred million dollars will be required to settle these foreign demands. Chili must pay. There is no avoiding it. Reckless destruction will be found to be rather an expensive amusement in future for these South Americans. Their outrageous and murderous treatment of citizens of the United States who land upon their shore is also like to cost them a heavy sum in way of penalty. The present is a good opportunity to teach them a salutary lesson. The Chilians will not be in a hurry to repeat crimes which they find entail sure and swift punishment.
A majority of the population of Chili lives, as a rule, within a few miles of the sea, and her coast line extends from Cape Horn northward over two thousand miles to the borders of Bolivia and Peru. With this extraordinary length, she has an average width of hardly more than a hundred miles, bordered on the east by the western slope of the Andes, whose eastern side belongs to the Argentine Republic, and on the west by the Pacific Ocean. The present estimated area of the republic is about two hundred and twenty thousand square miles, containing a population of considerably less than three millions, though its capacious territory could be so divided as to make twenty-five states as large as Massachusetts. Sixteen hundred miles of steam railroads render the principal sections of Chili accessible to one another. The coast line has from time to time been undergoing decided changes through volcanic action. In 1822, after a visible commotion, the shore was permanently raised three feet at Valparaiso, and four feet at Quintere. This change extended over an area of a hundred thousand miles. Another but lesser elevation took place in the same region in 1835.
There seems to be no accounting for the vagaries of a land subject to volcanic influences.
The harbor of Valparaiso is well protected on the east, south, and west, but it is open to the north, from which direction come very heavy winds and seas during a couple of months in the winter season, often causing serious casualties among the shipping which may chance to be anchored in the harbor. A "norther" is as much dreaded here as it is at Vera Cruz and along the Gulf of Mexico generally.
The entrance to the harbor is on its north side, and is a mile in width, more or less. The flags of nearly all nations are seen here, though the Stars and Stripes are less frequently to be met with than others. The city lies at the base of the closely surrounding hills, up whose sides and in the ravines the dwelling-houses have been constructed, tier above tier. Over all, further inland, looms the frosted head of grand old Aconcagua, twenty-two thousand feet and more in height, believed to be the tallest mountain in the western hemisphere. This mighty member of the Andean Cordillera is said to be ninety miles away, but it is so lofty and dominant, as seen through the clear atmosphere, that it appears almost within cannon range. At this writing the harbor presents quite a warlike aspect. English, American, French, German, and Chilian men-of-war are anchored here, looking after their several national interests, as affected by the civil war. The bugle calls of the several ships, the morning and evening guns, the display of naval bunting, together with the flitting hither and thither of well-manned boats, all unite to form a gay and suggestive scene. The Chilian cruisers in the hands of the revolutionists would not hesitate to batter down any government buildings on the coast, destroying incidentally the domestic residences and merchandise of non-combatants, were they not restrained by the presence of foreign flags and guns. When Balmaceda undertook by a proclamation to shut up the ports of Chili, and declared them blockaded, he was told by the several naval commanders on the coast that he could not establish a paper blockade, and that if the merchant ships of their several countries were in any way interfered with, he would have to fight somebody else besides the revolutionists. The ports were therefore kept as open to legitimate commerce as they ever were.
The author was disappointed at not being able to reach Santiago, the capital of Chili, which is situated at the foot of the western slope of the Andes, nearly two thousand feet above tide-water. It is connected with Valparaiso by railway, and under ordinary circumstances can be reached in eight hours. The difficulties caused by the civil war, and the suspicion with which all foreigners were regarded, proved impossible to surmount without a protracted effort, and submitting to any amount of red tape. Santiago was founded by one of Pizarro's captains, in 1541, and now contains about two hundred thousand inhabitants. There are some Americans and many English resident in Santiago, together with Germans and Frenchmen, the foreigners being mostly merchants. We were told of two familiar statues which are to be seen in a public square of the city, in front of the post-office. One represents George Washington, the other Abraham Lincoln, both of which were stolen from Lima during the late conflict between Chili and Peru.
But this is a digression. Let us once more return to the commercial port of Valparaiso.
A considerable portion of this city has been reclaimed from the sea, and still more land suitable for the erection of business warehouses near the shore is being added to this part of the town. Local enterprise, however, is pretty much suspended for the time being, owing to the disturbed condition of political affairs. The mountains near at hand supply ample stone and soil for the purpose of extending the area of this business portion of the town. Sixty or seventy years ago, the city contained only a single street, on the edge of the harbor; to-day it has all the appearance and belongings of a great commercial capital, and a population of a hundred and thirty thousand. Except Rio Janeiro and Buenos Ayres, we saw nowhere thoroughfares more full of energetic life and business activity. The main avenue is the Calle Victoria, which runs round the entire water front, occupied by the banks, hotels, insurance offices, and the best shops in the town.
There are four large daily newspapers published in Valparaiso, whose united circulation exceeds thirty thousand copies. "El Mercurio" has the eminent respectability of age, having been published regularly for a period of half a century. The facility for news-gathering is very good, as this city is connected with the world at large by submarine cable, but no such detailed and complete summary of intelligence is attempted as our North American journals exhibit daily. While on this subject, we may add that there are no newspapers in Europe, or elsewhere, which will compare with those of the United States in the average ability and journalistic merit which characterizes them. We do not say this in a boastful spirit, but simply make the statement as an incontrovertible fact.
Some of the business structures along the harbor front of Valparaiso are fine edifices architecturally, and many of the retail stores will compare favorably with the average of ours in Washington Street, Boston. The elegant class of goods displayed in some of these establishments shows that the population is an habitually extravagant and free-living one. We were told, by way of illustration, that millionaires were as plenty as blackberries before the late civil war, while many wealthy men, foreseeing the catastrophe which was about to occur, shrewdly prepared for it, and by careful management saved their property intact. Many of the private houses on Victoria Street are spacious, elegant, and costly, the occupants living in regal style, to support which must cost a very heavy annual outlay. It appears that President Balmaceda discovered, during the late struggle, where and how to lay his hands upon the resources of a few of these citizens, and that such he completely impoverished, under one pretext and another, using their property to support his armed minions, and to swell the aggregate of funds which he sent for deposit in his own name to Europe. One or two cases of this sort were related to us in which the citizens were not only made to give up the whole of their private property, but were finally imprisoned and sentenced to death upon a charge of treason, without even the semblance of a trial!
It is no marvel, to those who know the facts of his career, that a man who was guilty of such crimes, when at last brought to bay, finding himself betrayed and deserted by his pretended friends, should have blown out his own brains. The posthumous papers which he left, and wherein he tries to pose as a martyr, are simply a ludicrous failure. José Manuel Balmaceda was in the fifty-second year of his age when he committed suicide, and was at the time hiding for fear of the infuriated citizens of Santiago, who would certainly have hanged the would-be dictator without the least hesitation or formality, if they could have got possession of his person.
The tramway-cars of Valparaiso are of the two-story pattern, like those of Copenhagen and New Orleans, also found in many of the European cities. They have as conductors, like Concepcion, very pretty half-breed girls, who appear to thoroughly understand their business, and to fulfill its requirements to universal satisfaction. If an intoxicated or unruly person appears on the cars, the conductress does not attempt personally to eject him. She has only to hold up her hand, and the nearest policeman, of whom there are always a goodly number about, jumps on to the car and settles the matter in short order. Girls were thus first employed in order that the men who ordinarily fill these places might be drafted into the army, during the late war between Chili and Peru, and as the system proved to be a complete success, it has been continued ever since. The fare charged on these tram-cars is five cents for each inside passenger, and half that sum for the outside; and, as in Paris, when the seats are all full, a little sign is shown upon the car, signifying that no more persons will be admitted, none being allowed to stand. The same rule is enforced in London, and the thought suggested itself as to whether our West End Railway Company of Boston might not take an important hint therefrom.
The ladies and gentlemen of the city are a well dressed class, the former adopting Parisian costumes, and the gentlemen wearing a full dress of dark broadcloth, with tall stove-pipe hats. The women of the more common class wear the national "manta," and the men the "poncha." The former is a dark, soft shawl which covers in part the head and face of the wearer. The latter is a long, striped shawl, with a slit cut in the centre, through which the head of the wearer is thrust. Nothing could be more simple in construction than both of these garments, and yet they are somehow very picturesque.
As we have already intimated, it is soon learned, upon landing at any port of the commercial world, what the staple products of the neighborhood are, by simply noting the visible merchandise made ready for shipment. Here we have sugar, wool, and cotton prevailing over all other articles. Guano and nitrate, which also form specialties here, are represented, though the supply of the former is pretty much exhausted. The nitrate trade is controlled by an Englishman of large fortune, Colonel North, known here as the "Nitrate King." This valuable fertilizer is the deposit of the nitrate of soda in the beds of lakes long since dried up, the waters of which originally contained in solution large quantities of this material. These lakes in olden times received the flow of a great water-shed, and having no outlet, save by evaporation, accumulated and precipitated at the bottom the chemical elements flowing into them from the surrounding country. The article is now dug up and put through a certain process, then shipped to foreign countries as a fertilizer, believed to put new heart into exhausted soil. England consumes an immense quantity of it annually, and many ships are regularly employed in its transportation.
The custom house, situated near the landing at Valparaiso, is a somewhat remarkable structure, having a long, low façade surmounted by tall, handsome towers. This is eminently the business part of the town, and is called "El Puerto." The larger share of the residences of the merchants and well-to-do citizens is situated on the hillsides, to reach which it is necessary to ascend long flights of steps. At certain points elevators are also supplied by which access is gained to the upper portions of the town, after the fashion already described at Bahia, on the east coast.
The majority of people doing business in Valparaiso are English, and English is the almost universal language. Even the names upon the city signs are suggestive in this direction. Among the public houses are the "Queen's Arms," the "Royal Oak," the "Red Lion," and so on. Besides an English school, there are three churches belonging to that nationality. There are numerous free schools, both of a primary and advanced character, an elaborately organized college, two or three theatres, and the usual charitable establishments, including a public library. The principal part of the city is lighted by electricity, and the telephone is in general use. A special effort has lately been made to promote the education of the rising generation in Chili, and we know of no field where the endeavor would be more opportune. Such an effort is never out of place, but here it is imperatively called for. The almost universal ignorance of the common people of Chili is deplorable, and little improvement can be hoped for as regards their moral or physical condition, except through the means of educating the youth of the country. A commissioner-general of education was appointed some time ago, who has already visited Europe and North America to study the best modern methods adopted in the public schools. This is a tangible evidence of improvement which speaks for itself, and is a great stride of this people in the right direction. Of course the late political crisis will greatly retard the hoped-for results, just as it will put Chili back some years in her national progress, whatever may be the final outcome in other respects.
Gambling is a prevailing national trait in this country, by no means confined to any one class of the community. The street gamin plays for copper centavos, while the pretentious caballero does the same for gold coins. It is quite common in family circles, held to be very aristocratic, to see the gaming table laid out every evening, as regularly as the table upon which the meals are served. Money in large sums is lost and won with assumed indifference in these private circles, whole fortunes being sometimes sacrificed at a single sitting. Gambling seems to be held exempt from the censure of either church or state, since both officials and priests indulge in all sorts of games of chance. There are the usual public lotteries always going on to tempt the poorer classes of the people, and to capture their hard-earned wages.
One virtue must be freely accorded to the business centre of this city, namely, that of cleanliness, in which respect it is far in advance of most of the capitals on the east coast of South America. Being the first seaport of any importance in the South Pacific, it is naturally a place of call for European bound steamers coming from New Zealand and Australia, as well as those sailing from Panama and San Francisco. In view of the fact that six hundred and fifty thousand people emigrate from Europe annually, seeking new homes in foreign lands, the Chilian government, in common with some others of the South American states, has for several years past held forth the liberal inducement of substantial aid to all bona fide settlers from foreign countries. Each newcomer who is the head of a family is given two hundred acres of available land, together with lumber and other materials for building a comfortable dwelling-house, also a cart, a plough, and a reasonable amount of seed for planting. Besides these favors which we have enumerated, some other important considerations are offered. Only a small number, comparatively speaking, of emigrants have availed themselves of such liberal terms, and these have been mostly Germans. If such an offer were properly promulgated and laid before the poor peasantry of Ireland and Spain and Italy, it would seem as though many of those people would hasten to accept it in the hope of bettering their condition in life. Whether such a result would follow emigration would of course depend upon many other things besides the liberality of the offer of the Chilian government. The Germans form a good class of emigrants, perhaps the best, often bringing with them considerable pecuniary means, together with habits of industry. The late civil war has put a stop to emigration for a period at least, and will interfere with its success for some time to come, if indeed Chili ever assumes quite so favorable a condition as she has sacrificed.
There are some districts, including Limache and Pauquehue, where grape culture has been brought to great perfection, and where it is conducted on a very large scale. Wine-making is thus taking its place as one of the prosperous industries of the country. The amount of the native product consumed at home is very large, and a regular system of exports to other South American ports has been established. All of the most important modes of culture, such as have been proven most successful in France and California, have been carefully adopted here. Tramways are laid to intersect the various parts of these extensive vineyards, to aid in the gathering and transportation of the ripe fruit, while the appliances for expressing the juice of the grape are equally well systematized. One vineyard, belonging to the Consiño family, near Santiago, covers some two hundred acres, closely planted with selected vines from France, Switzerland, and California, the purpose being to retain permanently such grades as are found best adapted to the soil and the climate of Chili. The white wines are the most popular here, but red Burgundy brands are produced with good success. The vines are trained on triple lines of wires, stretched between iron posts, presenting an appearance of great uniformity, the long rows being planted about three or four feet apart. Every arrangement for artificial irrigation is provided, it being an absolute necessity in this district of Chili. Trenches are cut along the rows of vines, through which the water, from ample reservoirs, is permitted to flow at certain intervals; particularly when the grape begins to swell and ripen. The fruit is not trodden here, as it is in Italy, but is thoroughly expressed by means of proper machinery.
Geographically, Chili is, as we have intimated, a long, narrow country, lying south of Peru and Bolivia, ribbon-like in form, and divided into nineteen provinces. It has been considerably enlarged by conquest from both of the nationalities just named; including the important territory of Terapaca. The name "Chili" signifies snow, with which the tops of most of the mountain ranges upon the eastern border are always covered. Still, extending as she does, from latitude 24° south to Cape Horn, she embraces every sort of climate, from burning heat to glacial frosts, while nearly everything that grows can be produced upon her soil. Though she has less than three million inhabitants, still her territory exceeds that of any European nationality except Russia. The manifest difference between the aggregate of her population and that of her square miles does not speak very favorably for the healthful character of the climate. There is no use in attempting to disguise the fact that Chili has rather a hard time of it, with sweeping epidemics, frequent earthquakes, and devouring tidal waves. The country contains thirty volcanoes, none of which are permanently active, but all of which have their periods of eruption, and most of which exhibit their dangerous nature by emitting sulphurous smoke and ashes. The unhygienic condition of life among her native races accounts for the large death-rate prevailing at all times, and especially among the peon children, thus preventing a natural increase in the population. Unless a liberal immigration can be induced, Chili must annually decrease in population. As regards the foreign whites and the educated natives who indulge in no extravagant excesses, living with a reasonable regard for hygiene, doubtless Chili is as healthy as most countries, but there is still to be remembered the erratic exhibitions of nature, a possibility always hanging like the sword of Damocles over this region. A whole town may, without the least warning, vanish from the face of the earth in the space of five minutes, or be left a mass of ruins.
It is in the districts of the north that the rich mines and the nitrate fields are found, but the central portion of the country, and particularly towards the south, is the section where the greatest agricultural results are realized, and which will continue to yield in abundance after the mineral wealth shall have become quite exhausted. The southern portion of the country embraces Patagonia, which has lately been divided between Chili and the Argentine Republic. In short, Chili is no exception to the rule that agriculture, and not mining products, is the true and permanent reliance of any country.
A little less than four hundred miles off the shore of Valparaiso, on the same line of latitude, is the memorable island of Juan Fernandez. It is politically an unimportant dependence of Chili, though of late years it has indirectly been made the means of producing some income for the national treasury. There was a period in which Chili maintained a penal colony here, but the convicts mutinied, and massacred the officers who had charge of them. These convicts succeeded in getting away from the island on passing ships. No attempt has been made since that time to reëstablish a penal colony on this island. To-day the place is occupied by thriving vegetable gardeners, and raisers of stock. Every intelligent youth will remember the island as the spot where De Foe laid the scene of his popular and fascinating story of "Robinson Crusoe." The island is about twenty miles long by ten broad, and is covered with dense tropical verdure, gentle hills, sheltered valleys, and thrifty woods. Juan Fernandez resembles the Azores in the North Atlantic. Though generally spoken of in the singular, there are actually three islands here, forming a small, compact group, known as Inward Island, Outward Island, and Great Island. Many intelligent people think that the story of Robinson Crusoe is a pure fabrication, but this is not so. De Foe availed himself of an actual occurrence, and put it into readable form, adding a few romantic episodes to season the story for the taste of the million. It was in a measure truth, which he stamped with the image of his own genius. Occasionally some enthusiastic admirer of De Foe comes thousands of miles out of the beaten track of travel to visit this group of islands, by the way of Valparaiso. Grapes, figs, and other tropical fruits abound at Juan Fernandez. It is said that several thousand people might be easily supported by the natural resources of these islands, and the abundance of fish which fill the neighboring waters. An English naval commander stopped here in 1741, to recruit his ships' crews, and to repair some damages. While here he caused various seeds to be planted for the advantage of any mariners who might follow. The benefit of this Christian act has been realized by many seamen since that date. Fruits, grain, and vegetables are now produced by spontaneous fertility annually, which were not before to be found here. The English commander also left goats and swine to run wild, and to multiply, and these animals are numerous there to-day.
Juan Fernandez has one tall peak, nearly three thousand feet high, which the pilots point out long before the rest of the island is seen. It was from this lofty lookout that Alexander Selkirk was wont to watch daily in the hope of sighting some passing ship, by which he might be released from his imprisonment. There are about one hundred residents upon the group to-day, it having been leased by the Chilian government as a stock ranch for the breeding of goats and cattle, as well as for the raising of vegetables for the market of Valparaiso. There are said to be thirty thousand horned cattle, and many sheep, upon these islands. Occasional excursion parties are made up at Valparaiso to visit the group by steamboat, for the purpose of shooting seals and mountain goats. Stories are told of Juan Fernandez having been formerly made the headquarters of pirates who came from thence to ravage the towns on the coast of the continent, and it is believed by the credulous that much of the ill-gotten wealth of the buccaneers still remains hidden there. In search of this supposititious treasure, expeditions have been fitted out in past years at Valparaiso, and many an acre of ground has been vainly dug over in seeking for piratical gold, supposed to be buried there. Some of the shrewd stock raisers of Juan Fernandez are ready, for a consideration, to point out to seekers the most probable places where such treasures might have been buried.
The Port of Callao.—A Submerged City.—Peruvian Exports.—A Dirty and Unwholesome Town.—Cinchona Bark.—The Andes.—The Llama.—A National Dance.—City of Lima.—An Old and Interesting Capital.—Want of Rain.—Pizarro and His Crimes.—A Grand Cathedral.—Chilian Soldiers.—Costly Churches of Peru.—Roman Catholic Influence.—Desecration of the Sabbath.
The passage northward from Valparaiso to Callao occupies about four days by the steamers which do not stop at intermediate ports. We entered the harbor in the early morning while a soft veil of mist enshrouded the bay, but as the sun fairly shone upon the view, this aerial screen rapidly disappeared, revealing Callao just in front of us, making the foreground of a pleasing and vivid picture, the middle distance filled by the ancient city of Lima, and the far background by alpine ranges. Callao is an ill-built though important town, with a population of about thirty thousand, and serves as the port for Lima, the capital of Peru. It has a good harbor, well protected by the island of San Lorenzo, which, with the small island of El Fronton, and the Palminos reef, forms a protection against the constant swell of the ocean. There are nearly always one or two ships of war belonging to foreign nations in the harbor, and large steamships from the north or the south. The sailing distance from Panama is fifteen hundred miles. The Callao of to-day is comparatively modern. Old Callao formerly stood on a tongue of land opposite San Lorenzo, but in 1746 an earthquake submerged it and drowned some five thousand of the inhabitants, foundered a score of ships, and stranded a Spanish man-of-war. In calm weather one can row a boat over the spot where the old city stood, and see the ruins far down in the deep waters. The present city has twice been near to sharing the same fate: once in 1825, and again in 1868. It is, therefore, not assuming too much to say that Callao may at any time disappear in the most summary fashion. The sunken ruins in the harbor are a melancholy and suggestive sight, the duplicate of which we do not believe can be found elsewhere on the globe. Though seismic disturbances are of such frequent occurrence, and are so destructive on the west coast of South America, they are hardly known on the Atlantic or eastern side of the continent. That they are frequently coincident with volcanic disturbances indicates that there is an intimate connection between them, but yet earthquakes often occur in regions where volcanoes do not exist. This was the case, not long since, as most of our readers will remember, in South Carolina. It has been noticed by careful observers that animals become uneasy on the eve of such an event, which would seem to show that earthquakes sometimes owe their origin to extraordinary atmospheric conditions.
San Lorenzo is about six miles from Callao, and is four miles long by one in width. It is utterly barren, presenting a mass of brownish gray color, eleven hundred feet high, at whose base there is ever a broad, snow white ruffle, caused by the never-ceasing ocean swell breaking into foam. An English smelting company has established extensive works near the shore of the island, for the reduction of silver and copper ores. The approach to Callao from the sea affords a fine view of the undulating shore, backed by the snowy Cordilleras, the shabby buildings of the town, with the dismantled castle of San Felipe forming the foreground. In landing one must be cautious: there is always considerable swell in the harbor.
The staple products of this region are represented by packages of merchandise prepared for shipment, and which are the first to attract one's attention upon landing, such as cinchona bark from the native forests, piles of wheat in bulk, hides, quantities of crude salt, sugar packed in dried banana leaves, bales of alpaca wool, and, most suggestive of all, some heavy bags of silver ore. Little is being done in mining at present, though the field for this industry is large. The difficulty of transportation is one of the great drawbacks, yet Peru has over a thousand miles of railways in her rather limited area. Gold, platinum, silver, and copper are all found in paying quantities. Coal and petroleum also exist here, in various inland districts. The guano deposits, which have yielded so much wealth to Peru in the past, are practically exhausted, while the nitrate-producing province of Tarapaca has been stolen by Chili, to which it now belongs. It is thought that the nitrate deposits can be profitably worked for fifty years to come.
A crowd of the lazy, ragged population were loafing about the landing, watching the strangers as they came on shore at the wet and slippery stone steps.
It is very plain that the great importance of Callao has departed, though there is still an appearance of business activity. Not long ago, a hundred vessels at a time might be seen at anchor inside of San Lorenzo; now, a score of good-sized ships are all one can count. This is owing to various causes: an unreasonable high tariff is one of them, exorbitant port charges is another, and the general depression of business on the west coast is felt quite as strongly here as at any of the ports. Like Santos, on the other side of the continent, Callao is ever an unhealthy resort, where a great mortality prevails in the fever season. The absence of good drainage and inattention to hygienic rules will in part account for the bad repute that the port has among the shipping masters who frequent the coast. The streets are particularly malodorous about the water front. The dirty vultures seem to be depended upon to remove offensive garbage.
A certain remarkable occurrence sometimes takes place in this harbor, which, so far as the writer knows, is without precedent elsewhere. A ship may come in from sea and anchor at about sunset, in good order and condition, everything being white and clean on board, but when her captain comes on deck the next morning, he may find that his ship has been painted, inside and out, a dark chocolate color during the night, the atmosphere at the same time being impregnated with a peculiar odor, arising from this "paint," or whatever it may be, which clings tenaciously to every object, wood or iron. While it is damp and freshly deposited, it can be removed like fresh paint, but if it is permitted to dry, it is as difficult to remove as ordinary dried paint would be. No one can tell the origin of this nuisance, but most seamen whose business brings them to Callao have been through this experience. Of course it must be an atmospheric deposit, but from whence? It has never been known to occur upon the neighboring land, but only in the harbor. Scientists have given the matter their attention, and have concluded that it may be caused by sulphurous gases produced in the earth below the water, which rise to the surface and disseminate themselves in the surrounding atmosphere.
From any elevated point in the city one may enjoy a delightful view, the main features of which are the Andes on the land side, and seaward, the broad heaving bosom of the Pacific. The corrugated peaks of the former, clad in white, seem like restless phantoms marching through the sky. Over the latter, long lines of inky blackness trail behind northern or southern bound steamers, while here and there a tall, full-rigged ship recalls the older modes of navigation.
The smoother water inside of San Lorenzo is alive with small boats, some under sails, some propelled by oars, shooting in and out among the shipping which lie at anchor before the town. A pair of large whales assisted at this scene for our special benefit, just inside the harbor's mouth. It must have been only play on their part,—leviathans at play,—but they threw up the sea in such clouds of spray with their broad tails, as to make it appear like a battle-royal seen from a mile away.
We mentioned the fact of seeing cinchona bark in bales ready for shipping. Of all the products of South America, gold, silver, and precious stones included, the most valuable is the drug which is called quinine, made from the bark of the cinchona tree. There is no other one article known to the materia medica which has been used in such large quantities or with such unvarying success by suffering humanity. It was first introduced into Europe from Peru, and was then known as Peruvian bark. It was supposed at that time to be found only in this section of the continent; but subsequently it was discovered to abound in all the forests along the course of the Andes, and especially on their western slope. So large has been its export that it was found the source of supply was rapidly becoming exhausted, until local governments awoke to the importance of the matter, and protected by law the trees which produce it. These are no longer ruthlessly cut down to die, when yielding their valuable harvest, but only a certain quantity of the desirable bark is taken from each tree annually, so that nature replaces the portion which had been removed, by covering the trunk with a fresh growth. The cinchona tree, having been transplanted from South America, is now successfully cultivated in the islands of the Malacca Straits, Ceylon, India, and other tropical regions.
The tree which produces this valuable febrifuge belongs to the same family as the coffee plant. In appearance it is very like our native beech tree, having remarkably white wood.
The llama is found nearly all over South America, and is often seen as a beast of burden at Callao, taking the place here which the donkey or burro fills in Mexico. It has been described as having the head and neck of a camel, the body of a deer, the wool of a sheep, and the neigh of a horse. We do not agree with those who pronounce the llama an awkward creature. True, the body is a little ungainly, but the head, the graceful pose, the pointed, delicate ears, and the large, lustrous eyes are absolutely handsome. It can carry a burden weighing one hundred pounds over hard mountain roads, day after day, while living upon very scanty food. It is slow in its movements, patient when well treated, and particularly sure-footed. It is of a very gentle disposition, but when it finds the weight placed upon its back too heavy, like the Egyptian camel, it immediately lies down and will not rise until the load is lightened. The llama, or "mountain camel," as it has been aptly called, is the only domesticated native animal. The horse, ox, hog, and sheep are all importations which were entirely unknown here four centuries ago. The llama has two notable peculiarities: when angry it will expectorate at its enemy, and when hurt will shed tears. The expectoration is of an acrid, semi-poisonous nature, and if it strikes the eyes will, it is said, blind them. The llama, guanaco, alpaca, and vicuña were the four sheep of the Incas, the wool of the first clothing the common people; the second, the nobles; the third, the royal governors; and the fourth the Incas. The first two are domesticated, guanacos and vicuñas are wild, though they all belong to the same family.
The manners and customs of any people new to the traveler are always an interesting study, but in nothing are they more strongly individualized than in the pursuit of amusements. A favorite dance, known here as thezama cueca, is often witnessed out-of-doors in retired corners of the plaza or the alameda, as well as elsewhere. It requires two performers, and is generally danced by a male and female, being not unlike the Parisian cancan, both in the movement and the purpose of the expression. The two dancers stand opposite each other, each having a pocket handkerchief in the right hand, while the music begins at first a dull, monotonous air, which rapidly rises and falls in cadence. The dancers approach each other, swaying their bodies gracefully, and using their limbs nimbly; now they pass each other, turning in the act to coquettishly wave the handkerchief about their heads, and also to snap it towards each other's faces. Thus they advance and retreat several times, whipping at each other's faces, while throwing their bodies into peculiar attitudes. Again they resume the first movement of advance and retreat, one assuming coyness, the other ardor, and thus continue, until, as a sort of climax, they fall into each other's arms with a peal of hearty laughter. A guitar is the usual accompanying instrument, the player uttering the while a shrill impromptu chant. When a male dancer joins in this street performance, as is sometimes the case, it is apt to be a little coarse and vulgar.
There is very little in Callao to detain us, and one is quite ready to hasten on to Lima, the capital of Peru, hoping to escape the stench and universal dirtiness of the port.
The city of Lima has at this writing about one hundred and sixty thousand inhabitants, and is situated six miles from Callao, its shipping port, with which it is connected by two rival railways. These roads are constructed upon an up-grade the whole distance, but the rise is so gradual as to be almost imperceptible, though Lima is over five hundred feet higher than Callao. The capital, which is clearly visible from the water as we enter the harbor, presents from that distance, and even from a much nearer point of view, a most pleasing picture, being favorably situated on elevated ground, with its many spires and domes standing forth in bold relief. It has, when seen from such a distance, a certain oriental appearance, charming to the eye of a stranger. But it is deceptive; it is indeed distance which lends enchantment in this case, for upon arriving within its precincts one is rudely undeceived. The apparently grand array of architecture on near inspection proves to be flimsy and poor in detail: everything is bamboo frame and plaster; no edifice is solid above the basement. Still, one can easily imagine how attractive the place must have been in those viceregal days, the period of its false glory and prosperity. The capital stands almost at the very foot of the Cordillera which forms the coast range, and is built upon both sides of the Rimac, over which stretches a substantial stone bridge of six arches, very old and very homely, but all the more interesting because it is so venerable. The width of the river at this point is over five hundred feet. In the winter season it is a very moderate stream, but when the summer sun asserts itself, the snow upon the neighboring mountains yields to its warmth, and the Rio Rimac then becomes an alpine torrent. It is like the Arno at Florence, which at certain seasons has the form of a river without the circulation. The anecdote is told here of a Yankee visitor to Lima who was being shown over the city by a patriotic citizen, and who on coming to this spot remarked to his chaperon: "You ought either to buy a river or sell this bridge."
At the entrance of this ancient structure stands a lofty and very effective archway, with two tall towers, and a clock in a central elevation. Prominent over the arched entrance to the roadway is the mottoDios y La Patria,—"God and Country." Nothing in Lima is of more interest than this hoary, unique, moss-grown bridge.
One pauses before the crumbling yet still substantial old structure to recall the vivid scenes which must have been enacted in the long, long past upon its roadway. Here madly contending parties have spilled each other's blood, hundreds of gaudy church processions have crossed these arches, bitter civil and foreign wars have raged about the bridge, dark conspiracies have been whispered and ripened here, solitary murders committed in the darkness of night, and lifeless bodies thrown from its parapet; but the dumb witness still remains intact, having endured more than three hundred years of use and abuse.
It is not necessary to unpack one's waterproof or umbrella in Lima. It never rains here, any more than it does in the region of Aden, at the mouth of the Red Sea. All vegetable growth is more or less dependent upon artificial irrigation, and in the environs where this is judiciously applied the orange and lemon trees are heavy with golden fruit, forming a rich contrast with the deep green of the luxuriant plantain, the thick, lance-like agave, and the prolific banana. The city and its environs would be as poorly off without the water of the Rimac as would the Egyptians if deprived of the annual overflow of the fertilizing Nile. Though the river is so inconsiderable at certain seasons, still it does supply a certain quantity of water always, which is improved to the utmost. Dews some times prevail at night, so heavy as to be of partial benefit, giving to vegetation a breath of moisture, and taking away the dead dryness of the atmosphere. This, however favorable for vegetation, is considered unwholesome for humanity. The flowers and shrubbery of the plaza droop for want of water, and are only preserved by great care on the part of those in charge of them. In some of the private gardens the pashinba palm-tree is seen, very peculiar in its growth, being mounted as it were upon stilts, formed by the exposed straight roots which radiate, like a series of props, to support the tall trunk. At its apex is a singular, spear-like stem, pointing straight skyward, without leaf or branch, just beneath which are the graceful, long, curved palm leaves, exquisite in proportions, bending like ostrich feathers. At first sight this tree looks like an artificial production, in which nature has taken no part. Lying only twelve degrees south of the equator, Lima has a tropical climate, but being also close to the foothills of the Andes, she is near to a temperate district, so that her market yields the fruits and vegetables of two zones.
Pizarro, the ambitious and intrepid conqueror of Peru, here established his capital in 1535, and here ended his days in 1541, dying at the hands of the assassin, the natural and retributive end of a life of gross bigotry, sensuality, recklessness, and almost unparalleled cruelty. In a narrow street,—the Callejon de Petateron,—leading out of the Plaza Mayor, a house is pointed out as being the one in which Pizarro was assassinated. Both Pizarro in Peru and Cortez in Mexico owed their phenomenal success to exceptional circumstances, namely, to the civil wars which prevailed among the native tribes of the countries they invaded. By shrewdly directing these intestine troubles so as to aid their own purposes, each commander in his special field achieved complete victory over races which, thus disunited and pitted against each other, fell an easy prey to the cunning invaders. Neither of these adventurers had sufficient strength to contend against a united and determined people. Such an enemy on his own ground would have swept the handful of Spaniards led by Pizarro from the face of the earth by mere force of numbers.
Soon after its foundation, Lima became the most luxurious and profligate of the viceregal courts of Spain, and so continued until its declaration of independence, and final separation from the mother country. The most worthless and restless spirits about the throne of Spain were favored in a desire to join Pizarro in the New World. The home government, while purging itself of so undesirable an element, added to the recklessness and utter immorality which reigned in the atmosphere of Lima. Forty-three successive viceroys ruled Peru during the Spanish occupancy. The nefarious Inquisition, steeped in the blood of helpless and innocent natives, was active here long after its decadence in Madrid, while the local churches, convents, and monasteries accumulated untold wealth by a system of arbitrary taxation, and iniquitous extortion exercised towards the native race. What better could have been expected from Pizarro than to inaugurate and foster such a state of affairs? Under the influence of designing priests and lascivious monks, he was as clay in the potter's hands, being originally only an illiterate swineherd, one who could neither read nor write. The state documents put forth during his viceregency, still preserved and to be seen in the archives of Lima, show that he could only affix his mark, not even attempting to write his own name. Though Charles V. finally indorsed and ennobled him with the title of Marques de la Conquista, and appointed him viceroy of the conquered country, he was still and ever the illegitimate, low-bred hind of Truxillo in continental Spain. The palace of this man, who, with the exception of Cortez, was the greatest human butcher of the age in which he lived, is still used for government offices, while the senate occupies the council chamber of the old Inquisition building, infamous for the bloody work done within its walls. H. Willis Baxley, M. D., the admirable author, writes on the spot as follows: "When the apologists of Pizarro attempt to shield his crimes, and excuse his acts of cruelty by his religious zeal and holy purpose of extending the dominion of the cross, they may well be answered that the religion was unworthy of adoption which required for its extension that the wife of the Inca Manco, then a prisoner in Pizarro's power, should be 'stripped naked, bound to a tree, and in presence of the camp be scourged with rods, and then shot to death with arrows!' This cold-blooded brutality, and to a woman, should brand his name with eternal infamy."
As we have intimated, Lima, like Constantinople, looks at its best from a distance, viewed so that the full and combined effect of its many domes and spires can be taken in as a whole; but whether near to it or far from it, few places in South America possess more poetical and historical interest. Its past story reads like an Arabian Nights' tale. Though the city is by no means what it has been, and wears an unmistakable air of decayed greatness, and though foreign invaders and civil wars have done their worst, Lima is still an extremely attractive metropolis. Even the vandalism of the late Chilian invaders, who outraged all the laws of civilized warfare (if there is any such thing as civilized warfare), regardless of the rights of non-combatants, could not obliterate her natural attractions and historical associations. The Chilian soldiers destroyed solely for the sake of destroying, mutilated statuary and works of art generally, besides burning historical treasures and libraries; and yet these Chilians claim to be the highest type of modern civilization on the southern continent. They strove to ruin whatever they could not steal and carry away with them from Peru, and, almost incredible to record, they wantonly killed the elephant in the zoölogical garden of Lima, and purloined the small animals. Noble, chivalrous Chilians! The rank and file of these people are the very embodiment of ignorance and brutality. The Chilian soldier carries, as a regular weapon, a curved knife called acurvos, with which he cuts the throats of his enemies. At close quarters, instead of fighting man-fashion, as nearly all other nations do, he springs like a fierce bull-dog at his opponent's throat, and with his curvos cuts it from ear to ear. After a battle, bands of these fiends in human shape go over the field, seeking out the wounded who are still alive, deliberately cutting their throats, and robbing their bodies of all valuables. It is Chilian tactics to take no prisoners, give no quarter. These brave soldiers would have burned Lima to the ground after gaining possession, had it not been for the interference of the foreign ministers, who had national men-of-war at Callao with which to back their arguments. These guerrillas—for that is just about what the Chilian soldiers are—knew full well that if even a small European battalion of disciplined men were landed and brought against them, they would simply be swept from the face of the earth.
Lima is laid out with the streets in rectangular form, the central point being the Plaza Mayor, in the shape of a quadrangle, each side of which is five hundred feet in length. On the north side of this admirably arranged square stand the buildings occupied as government offices, together with the bishop's palace, and the cathedral overshadowed by its two lofty towers. The corner-stone of this edifice was laid by Pizarro with great ceremony. The spires, although presenting such an effective appearance, are constructed of the most frail material, such as bricks, stucco, and bamboo frames, but still, as a whole, they are undeniably imposing. In this dry climate they are, perhaps, enduring also. Like the façade of the church of St. Roche, in Paris, this of the Lima cathedral is marked by bullet-holes commemorating the Chilian invasion. The church is raised six or eight feet above the level of the plaza, as is usual in South America, standing upon a marble platform, reached by broad steps, well calculated to enhance the really graceful proportions, and add to the effect of its broad, high towers. The interior is quite commonplace, with the usual tinsel, poor carvings, and wretched oil paintings, including several grotesque Virgin Marys. These were too poor even for the Chilians to steal. Beneath the grand altar rest the ashes of Pizarro, the cruel, ambitious, reckless tool of the Romish Church. The cathedral was built in 1540, but has undergone complete repairs and renovations from time to time, being still considered to be one of the most imposing ecclesiastical edifices in America. Its original cost is said to have been nine million dollars, to obtain which Pizarro robbed the Inca temples of all their elaborate gold and silver ornaments. According to Prescott, the Spaniards took twenty-four thousand, eight hundred pounds of gold, and eighty-two thousand ounces of silver from a single Inca temple! Prescott is careful in his statements to warn us of the unreliability of the Spanish writers, nearly all of whom were Romish priests. Where figures are concerned they cannot be depended upon for a moment. They also took special care to cover up the fiendish atrocities of the Inquisition, and the extortions of the church as exercised towards the poor, down-trodden native race.
One's spirits partook of the sombre and austere atmosphere which reigns at all times in this ancient edifice. It was very lonely. Not a soul was to be seen during our brief visit to the cathedral at noonday, except a couple of decrepit old beggars at the entrance, the faint, dull glare of the burning candles about the altar only serving to deepen the shadows and emphasize the darkness.
The area of the Plaza Mayor embraces eight or nine acres of land, and has often been the theatre of most sanguinary scenes, where hand-to-hand fights have frequently taken place between insurgent citizens and soldiers of the ruling power of the day, while many unpopular officials have been hanged in the towers of the cathedral, from each of which projects a gibbet! The middle of the plaza is beautified by a bronze fountain with arboreal and floral surroundings. There was formerly some statuary here, which the brave Chilians stole and carried away with them, even purloining the iron benches, which they transported to Valparaiso and Santiago. The streets running from this square, with the exception of the Calle de los Mercaderes, have an atmosphere of antiquity, which contrasts with the people one meets in them. Even the turkey buzzards, acting as street scavengers, are of an antique species, looking quite gray and dilapidated, as though they were a hundred years old. In Vera Cruz the same species of bird, kept for a similar purpose, have a brightness of feather, and jauntiness withal, quite unlike these feathered street-cleaners of Lima. The "Street of the Merchants," just referred to, is the fashionable shopping thoroughfare of Lima, where in the afternoons the ladies and gentlemen are seen in goodly numbers promenading in full dress.
There is here the usual multiplicity of churches, convents, and nunneries, such as are to be found in all Spanish cities, though the latter establishments have been partially suppressed. Some of the churches of Lima are fabulously expensive structures; indeed, the amount of money squandered on churches and church property in this city is marvelous. During the late war many articles of gold and silver, belonging to them, were melted into coin, but some were hidden, and have once more been restored to their original position in the churches. The convent and church of San Francisco form one of the most costly groups of buildings of the sort in America. The ornamental tiles of the flooring are calculated, not by the square yard, but by the acre. There are over a hundred Roman Catholic churches in Lima, few of which have any architectural beauty, but all of which are crowded with vulgar wax figures, wooden images, and bleeding saints. These churches in several instances have very striking façades: that of La Merced, for instance; but they are mere shams, as we have already said,—stucco and plaster; they would not endure the wear of any other climate for a single decade.
With all this outside religious show in Lima, there is no corresponding observance of the sacred character of the Sabbath. It is held rather as a period of gross license and indulgence, and devoted to bull-fights, cock-fighting, and drunkenness. The lottery-ticket vender reaps the greatest harvest on this occasion, and the gambling saloons are all open. Children pursue their every-day sports with increased ardor, and the town puts on a gala day aspect. At night the streets are ablaze, the theatres are crowded, and dissipation of every conceivable sort waxes fast and furious until long past midnight. The ignorant mass generally has drifted into observing the rituals of the Romish Church, but there are many of the native Indians in Peru who cherish a belief of a millennium in the near future; a time when the true prophet of the sun will return and restore the grand old Inca dynasty. Just so the Moors of Tangier hold to the belief that the time will yet come when they will be restored to the glory of their fathers, and to their beloved Granada; that the halls of the Alhambra will once more resound to the Moorish lute, and the grand cathedral of Cordova shall again become a mosque of the true faith.
The fact that the bull-ring of Lima will accommodate sixteen thousand people, and that it is always well filled on Sundays, speaks for itself. At these sanguinary performances a certain class of women appear in large numbers and in full dress, entering heartily into the spirit of the occasion, and waving their handkerchiefs furiously to applaud the actors in the tragedy, while the exhibitions are characterized by even more cruelty than at Madrid or Havana.