Sucre owes its importance to its being theoretically the constitutional seat of the government of the republic, but as, owing to the frequent revolutions, the government is generally “en campaña,” or “on the war path,” the other towns, such as La Paz, Oruro, and Cochabamba, have the responsibility of housing the president and his ministers quite as often as the capital. Both Cochabamba and La Paz possess larger populations than the capital, which may be said to have about 25,000 people, who are of very mixed races, ranging from the pure-blooded descendants of the “Sangre Azul” of Old Castile, through the “cholo,” or half-breed, down to the Quichuan and Aymará Indians.
There are no manufactures whatever carried on in the town, and but little commerce, the merchants of the district being numerically far below those of Cochabamba, La Paz, or even Santa Cruz de la Sierra. In former years the Indians appear to have been well skilled in the art of inlaying in mother-of-pearl and ivory. Many beautiful specimens of this work, in cabinets, crucifixes, and ornaments, can be seen in Sucre, although they are now becoming very scarce, as travellers have nearly exhausted the stocks, and the art seems to have entirely died out. There are a few well-stocked drapery stores, and a well-managed and completely equipped “Botica Inglese,” or English chemist and druggist’s establishment, to which is attached an American bar for soda ice-cream drinks and other curiously compounded and consoling beverages, which receive a fair share of the patronage of the young men about town.
It is said that Sucre owes its origin to the proximity of the famous Silver Hill of Potosí, the wealthier miners of that place having chosen it as a preferable place of residence to the cold and bleak slopes of the mineral district of Potosí, from which it is distant about twenty-five leagues. Universities and ecclesiastical establishments were erected, and in the early part of the seventeenth century the town became the seat of an archbishopric and of a supreme court of justice for the Spanish acquisitions in South America, with the titles of “San Arzobispado y Real Audencia de la Plata y Charcas,” and jurisdiction from the river Plate up to Alto Peru, formerly the country of the Charcas Indians, a race said to exist prior to the Incas. Most of the universities have been allowed to decline, so that to-day there are but two that have maintained any degree of repute. I did not have an opportunity of becoming acquainted with the routine of academical life in Sucre, but judging by the number of diploma’d men in the country, the acquisition of the title of “Dr.” cannot be a very difficult task. In Bolivia, as indeed in most South American countries, one is quite safe in accosting a stranger or chance acquaintance as “Señor Doctor;” and if this be not the right title, then one may try “Mi General,” or at least “Mi Coronel.”
Churches and conventual establishments abound in the city, but none of them are at all remarkable for their architecture, which is of the plainest possible style, the simplicity being spoiled by a thick coat of plaster. The largest of these edifices, the cathedral dedicated to “Nuestra Señora de la Guadalupe,” standing in one corner of the principal square, is a spacious building, the interior of which, on account of its extent, presents an imposing appearance on festival days, when it is filled with a well-dressed congregation. This church must, in very recent times, have been the receptacle of an enormous wealth of jewels and precious metals, poured into its treasury by the successful miners of Potosí. The principal object of value, and of interest to strangers, is the image or picture of “Our Lady of Guadalupe,” from whom the church takes its name. The figure is rather more than six feet in height, and is formed in jewels of many kinds, set upon a plate of gold. All the precious stones are of great size and of first-rate quality, but some of the pearls are of especial beauty, advantage having been taken of peculiarities of shape to fashion them into representations of animals or birds, which adorn the virgin’s robe. Thus, a pearl about the size of a pigeon’s egg, and with a peculiar shape, has, by the addition of a golden head and legs, been made to represent a slender Italian greyhound; another represents an ox, another a frog, whilst the whole of the figure gleams resplendently with rubies, diamonds, emeralds, and jewels of all kinds. Some authorities set down the value of the image at 2,000,000 dollars, but I think this must be an exaggerated estimate, as probably, had the church been in the possession of such a large amount of convertible treasure, not even the sanctity of the patron saint of Sucre would have saved her from the rapacious hands of some of the adventurers that have occupied the presidential chair. On high festivals the image is carried round the principal squares of the town, under the escort of a procession, including the president and his ministers, the archbishop and his principal clergy, a battalion of infantry, bands of music, and the most important merchants, lawyers, doctors, and gentry of the town. Upon these occasions “Sucre” is en fête, fine weather being almost always to be relied upon; the streets are full of people of all ranks and conditions, the gay colourings of the ponchos, shawls, and petticoats of the lower orders affording a lively contrast to the black coats and silk dresses of civilized society.
Besides the rich image of the virgin, the cathedral contains a very valuable collection of vestments and plate, and it is said that a few years ago it possessed twenty-four massive silver candelabra; but President Melgarejo, being pressed for silver to continue the coinage of his bad money (“Moneda de dos Caras”), melted down all these magnificent candlesticks except two, which alone remain to testify of the splendour of the church in former days, and of the ruthless vandalism of a Bolivian in power. The two remaining are about seven feet in height, and appear to be of solid silver. There are also several fine paintings, some of which have been attributed to Velasquez and Murillo; they may be worthy specimens of the masters, but the taste displayed in the exhibition of these pictures in a church is, to say the least, peculiar, as the subjects portrayed are of the most revolting character. One is a representation of the flaying alive of a saint (St. Bartolomeo, I think): a dreadful picture, with full life-size figures, representing an executioner tearing the skin from the saint’s body, while he holds between his teeth the knife which he has been using during his ghastly work. The horridly cool and unconcerned look of the wretch, who goes about his business as steadily as though he were skinning the hide from a dead bullock, is most marvellously painted; whilst the suffering, yet resolute look of the saint, can be more easily imagined than described. Another of these pictures depicts the martyrdom of a saint in a cauldron of boiling oil, another a saint being impaled, and each one of these pictures perpetuates the memory of a dreadful crime that has, at some period of the church’s history, either been committed or imagined. The policy of accustoming unreasoning Indians to such scenes seems to be a very unwise one.
The whole of Bolivia may be said to be priest-ridden, but Sucre, perhaps, suffers more than any other place in the republic from the incubus of a numerous and not over scrupulous clergy. Travellers in South America will scarcely need to be told that the Roman Catholic clergy include men of all shades of character; but though I have met many worthy pastors in other countries of the continent, I must unwillingly say, that I cannot recollect having met with any very striking excellence of character amongst the priesthood of Bolivia. Open violation of the vow of celibacy, insobriety, passion for jewellery, fine horses, and other worldly gear, are amongst the most venial of the charges that might be brought against many members of the clergy; so that one is tempted to think that the first reform the country requires is a reform amongst its pastors and teachers.
The streets and squares of the town are broad, and fairly well paved, and the town has altogether a rather imposing appearance, although it is to be regretted that the sanitary arrangements of the municipality should in Sucre, as well as in the other principal towns of Bolivia, be remarkable and conspicuous solely from the utter absence of care or attention to the commonest requirements of our times. The description that I have given of the state of Cochabamba will apply equally to Sucre, and need not, therefore, be repeated. For this reason it is, that small-pox hangs for such long periods of time about these cities, and kills yearly large numbers of the Indian population, who, averse to vaccination in ignorance of its benefits, fall easy victims to this terrible scourge of South American cities. Whilst I was in Sucre this plague was rife, my own servant-boy, the Cruzeño who accompanied me from Exaltacion, falling a victim thereto.
Two sides of the principal square of the town are occupied by the Government House, the Hall of Congress, the Municipal Buildings, and a Barrack. The first, dignified with the name of “Palacio del Gobierno,” is a very plainly-built edifice, with interior and fittings of the simplest possible style. Here the president has a suite of apartments, and the several ministers have offices. The “Sala del Congreso,” or House of Commons, is arranged after the usual South American fashion, with a “barra,” or outer bar, to which the public are admitted without any restriction, except on occasions when the house itself votes a secret sitting. A president of congress, and two secretaries, are elected by ballot from amongst the deputies every month, the president’s duties being to preserve order, whilst the secretaries regulate the proceedings and edit the reports of the speeches; but, as these reports seldom leave the printer’s hands until some months have elapsed, they cannot be said to be of any very great value, either to the deputies themselves or to the country. The barra divides the hall into two equal parts, so that when a debate of interest takes place, the public present far outnumbers the deputies, and does not fail to make its presence felt by frequently interrupting the speakers with approving hurrahs for a popular sentiment, or groans, cat-calls, hisses, and other lively expressions of disgust, for one that does not coincide with the mob’s whim of the moment. The members of the house generally speak from their seats, but at times the public shout for them to ascend the tribune, as a small pulpit placed at one side of the hall is grandiloquently termed. Two soldiers, armed with rifle and bayonet, standing at the centre of the barra, curb, in some measure, the fury of the mob that at times fills the hall, and protect unpopular deputies from actual violence. During my stay in Sucre, a treaty of boundaries with Chili, which, being very adverse to Bolivia in its terms, was naturally much disliked by a decided majority of all classes, came on for discussion, and at several sittings I fully expected to see a free fight in the Congress Hall. Popular deputies would harangue the crowd at the barra, which would loudly cheer the sentences that sympathized with its patriotic notions, whilst those members who dared to differ from the opinions of the mobocracy were scarcely allowed a hearing. Republican institutions may be acceptable dispensations of Providence to well-settled countries, but probably a European, visiting the Congress of Bolivia at a stormy sitting, will carry away with him the belief that the advent of a thoroughgoing despot would be about the best event that could happen to the country. The Bolivian House of Commons may, however, in one respect, be considered an improvement upon our English one, for the presence of ladies is not supposed to be a hindrance to the proper discharge of the functions of a deputy. The ladies of Sucre, instead of having to hide behind a grating, are accommodated in an open gallery, occupying a prominent position at one end of the hall, so that a susceptible deputy may be animated to oratorical effect by the smiles and approbation of his fair countrywomen. During the debate on the Chilian question, several very excellent speeches were made, and though I was much impressed with the eloquence displayed by many of the deputies, I could not help especially remarking the speech of a youthful deputy from Cochabamba, who, apparently scarcely of age (although he must have been, or he could not have been elected), spoke for about three hours, in a style that showed he had thoroughly mastered his subject; but doubtless the presence in the gallery of a young lady to whom he was paying his addresses, and who was one of the prettiest girls of the city, gave him courage to offer his opinions at length to his fellow-deputies, the majority of whom had, in age at least, a better right to the title of “patres conscripti.” This question of settlement of boundaries with Chili occupied the attention of the Congress for nearly a whole month, being argued with much warmth by the opponents and supporters of the treaty which the government had made with the Chilian minister, Señor Carlos Walker-Martinez. The final modifications, as agreed to by the Congress, defined the twenty-fourth degree of latitude as the northern Chilian boundary, from the Pacific coast to the highest points of the Andean range, excepting towns already under Bolivian government, such as Antofogasta—not to be confounded with the town of the same name on the coast. This treaty, therefore, reduced the Bolivian coast-line to even less than that afforded by the miserably small slip given to the republic at the time of the partition of the Spanish empire of South America.
A sort of private box is apportioned to the members of the diplomatic body, from which, for some years past, a representative of Great Britain has been missing, Brazil, Peru, Chili, and the Argentine Confederation only, maintaining resident ministers. As long as there was any chance of raising a loan on the London market, the presidents of Bolivia managed to accredit ministers to England, but as soon as it became evident that there was very little prospect of launching further loans, the envoy invariably found that the state of his private finances necessitated his departure from the court of St. James, for the poverty of the treasury of Bolivia is, apparently, so great, that the country is unable to maintain any paid representatives abroad. A misunderstanding seems to have occurred between the last English minister to Bolivia and one of the numerous presidents that have, during the past few years, successively usurped the powers of government, the president going so far as to send the minister his passport; since when, the English government has declined to accredit any one to the republic. As this happened some years ago, it might now be an assistance to a struggling country, if the recognition of European governments were afforded by the presence of ministers or consuls.
Politics in Bolivia are best described as purely personal, for the different political parties seem to spring up, change, and die out according as some ambitious leader comes to the front, and soon gives place to a newer man. During my stay in the republic I tried to discover whether there was any difference in the policy of the parties, but, to my perhaps limited vision, they all seemed embued with the same creed, namely, either to turn or keep your adversary out of place and power. One party, called “Rojos,” or “Reds,” may perhaps be deemed “Liberals,” whilst another, “Los Oligarcas,” may be supposed to be the “Conservatives”; but it was difficult to see that either of them had any other platform than the ruling maxim just mentioned. The political division was, however, at the time to which I refer, a threefold one—Quevedistas (Oligarchs), Corralistas (Liberal Oligarchs), and Ballivianistas (Rojos, or Radicals). The party once led by General Melgarejo, a former president, had then for its chief General Quintin Quevedo, and its supporters were therefore termed Quevedistas. They were decidedly in a minority, but their activity and good organization, aided by the unpopular course of action taken in the disputes with Chili by the party in power, enabled them to commence a revolution which very nearly succeeded in placing General Quevedo at the head of the country. However, the old adage of “many a slip, etc.,” is very applicable to the fortunes of revolutionists; and the final result of Quevedo’s enterprise was that he had to seek a refuge in Puno, where, I regret to hear, he has since died. There are rumours that he was poisoned, and it is quite probable that this means of breaking up the party may have been resorted to, for by Quevedo’s death only could it have been entirely defeated, all his followers being greatly attached to him. He was universally looked up to as the future president, and his career seems to have been singularly free from the faults that have, with few exceptions, been recorded of the rulers of Bolivia.