Travels in Peru, on the Coast, in the Sierra, Across the Cordilleras and the Andes, into the Primeval Forests

by Johann Jakob von Tschudi

Lima is overrun with monks, lay and conventual. The monastic regulations are not very strict, for the monks are permitted to leave the convents at all hours, according to their own pleasure. They avail themselves of this liberty to the utmost extent. Friars of various orders are seen in the streets in numbers. Most of them are fat Dominicans, who sit in the Portales playing at draughts, or lounge in shops staring at the Tapadas as they pass by. Many of these ecclesiastics are remarkable for their disregard of personal cleanliness; indeed it would be difficult to meet with a more slovenly, ignorant, and common-place class of men. They frequent all places of public entertainment, the coffee-houses, the chichereas, the bull-fights, and the theatres: these two last-mentioned places of amusement they visit in disguise. The Franciscans and the Mercenarias are little better than the Dominicans; but the Descalzados (barefooted friars) lead a somewhat more strict and regular life. To the monks of the Buena Muerte belongs the duty of administering the last consolation to the dying. Whenever they hear of any person who is dangerously ill, they hasten to the house without waiting till they are sent for, and they never leave the invalid until he either recovers or dies. Day and night they sit by the sick-bed, and scarcely allow themselves time for necessary rest and refreshment. I have known many of these monks who, from long experience and observation, but without any medical knowledge, had acquired wonderful shrewdness in determining the degree of danger in cases of illness, and who could foretel with almost unfailing certainty the moment of dissolution. As soon as the patient has breathed his last, the monk utters a short prayer, then giving the corpse a knock on the nose, he silently takes his departure. I have frequently witnessed this singular custom, but I never could discover its origin or motive. The habit worn by the monks of Buena Muerte is black, with a large red cross on the breast, and hats with high conical crowns.

Many pious natives, or inhabitants of Lima, have been admitted among the number of the saints. Of these the most distinguished was the Spaniard Toribio, who, at the beginning of the seventeenth century, filled the archiepiscopal chair in Lima. His kindness and charity have become proverbial, and his many acts of benevolence are still alive in the recollection of the people. Of many anecdotes that are related of him, I may here quote one. Late one night, the patrol who was on duty in the vicinity of the archbishop's palace, met a man in the street carrying a heavy load on his back. The challenge, "Who goes there?" was answered by the name "Toribio." The watch, uttering an oath, impatiently called out "Que Toribio?" (What Toribio?) "El de la esquina!" (He who dwells at the corner!) was the simple reply. The soldier angrily stepped up to his interlocutor, and, to his astonishment, recognized the archbishop, who was carrying a sick person to the hospital.

The saint to whom the Limeños render the highest honor, is Santa Rosa, the saint of the city. She was a native of Lima, and is the only Peruvian female who has attained the honor of being ranked among the saints. On the 30th of August, the festival of Santa Rosa is celebrated with great pomp in the cathedral, and her image, richly bedecked with gold and jewels, is carried in solemn procession from Santo Domingo to the Sagrario.

Religious processions are among the most favorite amusements of the inhabitants of Lima. They are always very numerously attended; and it may fairly be said that no merry-making would afford the Limeños so much diversion as they derive from these pious solemnities. Vast numbers of ladies join the processions as Tapadas, indulging in all sorts of coquettish airs, and with thoughts evidently bent on any subject but religion. The gentlemen station themselves in groups at the corners of the streets, to admire the graceful figures of the Tapadas, whose faces are concealed; and when the procession has passed one corner they rush to another, to see it defile a second time; and in this manner continue moving from place to place, as if they could never see enough of the interesting spectacle. The most brilliant processions are those which take place on the festivals of Corpus Christi, San Francisco, and Santo Domingo. A very solemn procession takes place on the 28th of October, the anniversary of the great earthquake of 1746.

Every morning, at a quarter to nine, the great bell of the cathedral announces the raising of the host, during the performance of high mass. Immediately every sound is hushed in the streets and squares. Coachmen stop the carriages, riders check their horses, and foot-passengers stand motionless. Every one suspends his occupation or his conversation, and kneeling down, with head uncovered, mutters a prayer. But scarcely has the third solemn stroke of the bell ceased to vibrate, when the noise and movement are resumed; the brief but solemn stillness of the few preceding moments being thus rendered the more impressive by contrast. The same incident is renewed in the evening, between six and seven o'clock, when the bell sounds for the Angelus (Oraciones). The cathedral bell gives the signal, by three slow, measured sounds, which are immediately repeated from the belfries of all the churches in Lima. Life and action are then, as if by an invisible hand, suddenly suspended; nothing moves but the lips of the pious, whispering their prayers. The Oracion being ended, every one makes the sign of the cross, and says to the person nearest him, Bueñas noches (Good night). It is regarded as an act of courtesy to allow another to take precedence in saying "Good night," and if several persons are together, it is expected that the eldest or the most distinguished of the group should be the first to utter the greeting. It is considered polite to request the person next one to say Bueñas noches; he with equal civility declines; and the alternate repetition of "diga Vm." (you say it), "No, Señor, diga Vm." (No, Sir, you say it), threatens sometimes to be endless.

The effect produced by the three strokes of the cathedral bell is truly astonishing. The half-uttered oath dies on the lips of the uncouth negro; the arm of the cruel Zambo, unmercifully beating his ass, drops as if paralyzed; the chattering mulatto seems as if suddenly struck dumb; the smart repartee of the lively Tapada is cut short in its delivery; the shopkeeper lays down his measure; the artizan drops his tool; and the monk suspends his move on the draught-board: all, with one accord, join in the inaudible prayer. Here and there the sight of a foreigner walking along indifferently, and without raising his hat, makes a painful impression on the minds of the people.

Christmas-night (Noche buena) is a great festival in Lima. The streets and squares, especially the Plaza Mayor, are crowded with people, amusing themselves in all sorts of ways. Hundreds of persons take their seats on the benches of the Plaza; there they regale themselves with sherbet, ices, and pastry, and look at the dancing of the negroes, &c. On this occasion the midnight mass is performed with extraordinary solemnity. On Christmas-day some of the families of Lima get up what are called Nacimientos, consisting of symbolical representations of the birth of the Saviour. On some of these shows considerable expense and ingenuity are bestowed.

In Carnival time Lima is so unpleasant a place of residence that many families retire to the country during that season of misrule. One of the favorite sports consists in sprinkling people with water; and from all the balconies various kinds of liquids are thrown on the passers-by. Groups of Negroes post themselves at the corners of the streets, where they seize people, and detain them prisoners, until they ransom themselves by the payment of a certain sum of money. Those who do not pay the money are rolled in the street gutters, and treated in the most merciless way; whilst those who purchase grace escape with having a few handfulls of dirty water thrown in their faces. Even in private houses, relations and intimate acquaintances are guilty of the most unwarrantable annoyances. Parties of young men enter the houses of families with whom they are acquainted, and begin sprinkling the ladies with scented water. That being exhausted, spring water, or even dirty water, is resorted to, so that what began in sport ends in reckless rudeness. The ladies, with their clothes dripping wet, are chased from room to room, and thereby become heated. The consequence is, in many instances, severe and dangerous illness. Inflammation of the lungs, ague, rheumatism, &c., are the usual results of these carnival sports, to which many fall victims. A year never passes in which several murders are not committed, in revenge for offences perpetrated during the saturnalia of the carnival.

A very favorite trick adopted in carnival time, for frightening people as they pass along the streets, is the following:—a sack, filled with fragments of broken glass and porcelain, is fastened to the balcony by a strong rope, of such a length that, when suspended from the window, the sack is about seven feet above the street. The apparatus being all ready, a mischievous negress and her amita (young mistress) watch the passers-by until they select one for their victim. The sack is then thrown over the front of the balcony, and a deafening crash ensues, though the rope prevents its contents from hurting any one. It is well known that in almost every street in Lima there is at least one balcony ready prepared for the performance of this trick; yet the suddenness of the crash always proves a shock, even to the strongest nerves. People start and run to one side of the street, and are sometimes so terrified that they drop down; then loud laughter and jeering remarks are heard in the balcony. Every year this trick is prohibited by the police, but the prohibition is treated with contempt.

One of the most popular recreations of the Limeños, especially of the people of color, is the Paseo de Amancaes, which takes place on St. John's Day. The Amancaes is a gently sloping plain, about half a mile north-west of Lima, and it is bounded by a semicircular range of hills, which rise from twelve to fifteen thousand feet above the level of the sea. During the hot months of the year this plain is a parched and barren waste; but when the misty and rainy season sets in, the Amancaes is covered with numerous flowers, among which a beautiful yellow lily is conspicuous. About the end of June this lily is in full bloom. On St. John's Day booths and stalls are fitted up for the sale of various kinds of refreshments, and throngs of people of all classes and colors are seen riding or walking in the direction of the Amancaes. There they amuse themselves with dancing, playing, eating, drinking, and gathering flowers; and in the evening they return to Lima. It is amusing to see the Mulattas and Zambas with bouquets of yellow lilies stuck in their heads and bosoms. These women crowd into heavily-laden vehicles, beside which their black cavaliers ride on horseback—all laughing, jesting, and giving vent to unrestrained mirth. From the 24th of June to the end of October, pleasure parties repair on Sundays and festival days, either to the Amancaes or to the Lomas. The latter is a range of hills a little further from Lima.