Small figures of the Virgin Mary, in glass cases, are kept in the apartments of various homes. In apothecaries’ shops I have particularly noticed them, to bespeak a blessing, doubtless, upon their physic. In the mansions of the poorer class they are more frequently seen; the costly saint and miserable dirty furniture of the rooms contrasted. A full-length figure of a saint, in a wire cage, with lamps on each side, is in the street of Le Cuyo, placed in accordance with a vow made in a period of danger; but, in general, there are less externals of the church in the public streets and roads than might be expected.
On passing a church, it was a constant custom to take off the hat; but few do it now. The beggars about these holy edifices clamour for charity, for the love of God and St. Rosario, or any other apostle favourite. These beggars are great thieves; I have lost several articles by their professional visits to my lodgings. They do not shoulder crutches and wooden legs, either to fight or run, as their London brethren, upon the approach of the police. One of my friends told me of an old woman, in Buenos Ayres, that spits upon every person she supposes to be an Englishman. Not having had the fortune to receive this lady’s favours, I cannot vouch for the truth of the story.
The priesthood are not so illiberal as report makes them out; they are painted to us as having a fixed hatred to Protestants, conceiving them to be the authors of all the obloquy the Catholics have endured from time to time. It must be recollected, that we have our errors on the score of prejudice likewise.
The friars of Buenos Ayres have amongst their body men of considerable learning; and, whatever hostility exists towards the system, they, as individuals, do not generally share in it. There may be one or two black sheep in the flock; and scandal takes care to blazen forth their deeds, particularly all that relates to their amours, but the common frailty of our nature should teach us to be merciful judges where love is concerned. The people have much respect for them; and, from what I have heard, they deserve it. Formerly, it is related, that on any offender being flogged in the public streets, the appearance of a priest calling for mercy would stop the infliction. If this was the case in England, our unflogged thieves would be bound to pray for them.
Four years since, two Englishmen having quarrelled, one of them ran into Le Merced church for protection from his opponent, who followed, and beat him under the very robes of the priest; a guard was called, and the offender taken into custody. Having an excellent character, he was liberated from prison on bail; and the affair ended in an expensive law suit. Some years back, he would have been severely punished for his inconsiderate conduct.
Some of the friars are handsome men: I have remarked one of them a counterpart of Young the actor. Their dress, shaven crown, and dark hair, added much to their appearance: the ugly attire they now wear, is a sad drawback. In my casual rencontres with them, I ever found them polite and attentive, effacing that diffidence which a stranger feels in venturing upon their hallowed precincts. The inquisition has never been established in Buenos Ayres; but I have often been cruel enough to fancy, that such and such a priest had a countenance like an inquisitor.
The suppression of the monasteries, in 1822, caused a great deal of discussion. There were those of the well-inclined who were not without apprehensions, and seemed disposed to let the presumed evil continue, rather than risk a change. The government must have felt their own strength, when they determined to reform so influential a portion of the church, having to encounter the prejudices and fanaticism of those grown grey in the old order of things, who regarded meddling with the church as little short of heresy. The friars were, in a manner, domesticated with the first families of Buenos Ayres, and ever received as welcome guests. They must (at least, some of them) have felt great reluctance to quit the convents, in which they had expected to remain for life, and regret at parting with the attire of their order. Discontent was engendered, at times, almost amounting to threats, which found vent in a conspiracy, ending in the banishment of Taglé, its author; and another more serious one, of the 19th March, 1823. The result of these abortive attempts served to confirm the power and influence of the existing government. The majority of the people, I should conceive, thought an alteration necessary in the clergy: many of that majority had visited Europe, and became divested of the narrow policy the Spaniards had taught them.
Elderly ladies, of all countries, are allowed to be more pious than the rest of society. The friars in Buenos Ayres found them staunch advocates of their cause.
To counteract the strong feeling that existed for the friars, the press of the day had recourse to ridicule, as well as to argument: a publication called the “Llobera,” teemed with paragraphs and anecdotes, often so indecent that it injured the cause it proposed to serve. This print was soon laid aside. In the mean time, the suppression gradually went on; and all that now remains of the monasteries of Buenos Ayres are the Franciscans. The buildings will soon perhaps be converted to other uses. The ejected friars, throwing off their habit, assumed a clerical half-dress, very similar to that of our clergymen; and the Dominicans, Mercedites, &c. are now met in the streets, as simple citizens, no longer wearing the livery of the founders of those orders. Three years ago, groupes of friars were continually about the church doors, in coffee-houses, and the streets, segar smoking, apparently under no church restrictions: when a reform was agitated, they were more strict, and the convent gates were closed at a certain hour. The Franciscans, who yet keep together, are rarely to be seen abroad, except the messengers, or lay brothers, who are, in dress and figure, no bad copy of their prototype, in The Duenna.