Good Friday is solemnized in a manner the effect of which, to the unprejudiced foreigner, is partly burlesque and partly seriously impressive. From the early dawn of morning the church is thronged with Indians, who spend the day in fasting and prayer. At two in the afternoon a large image of the Saviour is brought from the sacristy and laid down in front of the altar. Immediately all the persons in the church rush forward with pieces of cotton to touch the wounds. This gives rise to a struggle, in which angry words and blows are interchanged; in short, there ensues a disgraceful scene of uproar, which is only checked by the interposition of one of the priests. Order being restored, the sacred image is fixed on the cross by three very large silver nails, and the head is encircled by a rich silver crown. On each side are the crosses of the two thieves. Having gaped at this spectacle to their hearts' content, the cholos retire from the church. At eight in the evening they reassemble to witness the solemn ceremony of taking down the Saviour from the cross. The church is then brilliantly lighted up. At the foot of the cross stand four white-robed priests, called los Santos Varones (the holy men), whose office it is to take down the image. At a little distance from them, on a sort of stage or platform, stands a figure representing the Virgin Mary. This figure is dressed in black, with a white cap on its head. A priest, in a long discourse, explains the scene to the assembled people, and at the close of the address, turning to the Santos Varones, he says, "Ye holy men, ascend the ladders of the cross, and bring down the body of the Redeemer!" Two of the Santos Varones mount with hammers in their hands, and the priest then says, "Ye holy man, on the right of the Saviour, strike the first blow on the nail of the hand, and take it out!" The command is obeyed, and no sooner is the stroke of the hammer heard, than deep groans and sounds of anguish resound through the church; whilst the cry of "Misericordia! misericordia!" repeated by a thousand imploring voices, produces an indescribable sensation of awe and melancholy. The nail is handed to one of the priests standing at the foot of the altar, who transfers it to another, and this one in his turn presents it to the figure of the Virgin. To that figure the priest then turns and addresses himself, saying: "Thou afflicted mother, approach and receive the nail which pierced the right hand of thy holy Son!" The priest steps forward a few paces, and the figure, by some concealed mechanism, advances to meet him, receives the nail with both hands, lays it on a silver plate, dries its eyes, and then returns to its place in the middle of the platform. The same ceremony is repeated when the two other nails are taken out. Throughout the whole performance of these solemnities, an uninterrupted groaning and howling is kept up by the Indians, who at every stroke of the hammer raise their cries of Misericordia! These sounds of anguish reach their climax when the priest consigns the body of the Saviour to the charge of the Virgin. The image is laid in a coffin tastefully adorned with flowers, which, together with the figure of the Virgin Mary, is paraded through the streets. Whilst this nocturnal procession, lighted by thousands of wax tapers, is making the circuit of the town, a party of Indians busy themselves in erecting before the church door twelve arches decorated with flowers. Between every two of the arches they lay flowers on the ground, arranging them in various figures and designs. These flower-carpets are singularly ingenious and pretty. Each one is the work of two cholos, neither of whom seems to bestow any attention to what his comrade is doing; and yet, with a wonderful harmony of operation, they create the most tasteful designs—arabesques, animals, and landscapes, which grow, as it were by magic, under their hands. Whilst I was in Tarma, I was at once interested and astonished to observe on one of these flower-carpets the figure of the Austrian double eagle. On inquiry I learned from an Indian that it had been copied from the quicksilver jars, exported from Idria to Peru. On the return of the procession to the church, a hymn, with harp accompaniment, is sung to the Virgin, as the figure is carried under the arches of flowers. The bier of the Saviour is then deposited in the church, where it is watched throughout the night.
On the following morning, at four o'clock, the ceremony of hanging Judas takes place in front of the church. A figure of Judas, the size of life, is filled with squibs and crackers, and is frequently made to bear a resemblance to some obnoxious inhabitant of the place. After the match is applied to the combustible figure, the cholos dance around it, and exult in the blowing up of their enemy.
In the Sierra, as well as on the coast, the priests are usually the tyrants rather than the guardians of their flocks; and they would frequently be the objects of hatred and vengeance but for the deep-rooted and almost idolatrous reverence which the Indians cherish for priestcraft. It is disgusting to see the Peruvian priests, who usually treat the Indians like brutes, behaving with the most degrading servility when they want to get money from them. The love of the Indians for strong drinks is a vice which the priests turn to their own advantage. For the sake of the fees they frequently order religious festivals, which are joyfully hailed by the Indians, because they never fail to end in drinking bouts.
Added to the ill treatment of the priests, the Indians are most unjustly oppressed by the civil authorities. In the frequent movements of troops from one place to another, they are exposed to great losses and vexations. They are compelled to perform the hardest duties without payment, and often the produce of their fields is laid under contribution, or their horses and mules are pressed into the service of the military. When intelligence is received of the march of a battalion, the natives convey their cattle to some remote place of concealment in the mountains, for they seldom recover possession of them if once they fall into the hands of the soldiery.
Every fortnight a mail is despatched with letters from Lima to Tarma, Jauja, Huancavelica, Ayacucha, Cuzco, and into Bolivia; another proceeds to the northern provinces; a third to Arequipa and the southern provinces; and every week one is despatched to Cerro de Pasco. In Lima, the letter-bag is consigned to the charge of an Indian, who conveys it on the back of a mule to the next station,[77] where it is received by another Indian; and in this manner, handed from cholo to cholo, the letter-bag traverses the whole of its destined route, unaccompanied by an official courier. As soon as the mail arrives at a station, a flag is displayed at the house of the post-master, to intimate to those who expect letters that they may receive them; for they are not sent round to the persons to whom they are addressed, and it is sometimes even a favor to get them three or four days after their arrival. The Peruvian post is as tardy as it is ill-regulated. On one of my journeys, I started from Lima two days after the departure of the mail. On the road I overtook and passed the Indian who had charge of the letters, and, without hurrying myself, I arrived in Tarma a day and a half before him. Ascending the Cordillera, I once met an Indian very leisurely driving his ass before him with the mail-bag fastened to its back. Between the towns which do not lie in the regular line of route, there is no post-office communication; for example, between Pasco and Caxamarca, or between Pasco and Tarma, or Jauja; and when it is wished to despatch letters from one to another of these towns, private messengers must be employed. The consequence is, that business, which in Europe would be conducted through the medium of correspondence, can be arranged only by personal communication in Peru. Travelling is difficult, but not very expensive, as every one possesses horses or mules.
The best mules employed in the Sierra are obtained from the province of Tucuman in Buenos Ayres. Formerly the arrieros used annually to bring droves of several thousand mules through Bolivia and the Peruvian Sierra, selling as many as they could on the way, and taking to Cerro de Pasco those that remained unsold. During the Spanish domination, the mule trade was in the hands of the Government, to whose agents it afforded ample opportunity for the exercise of injustice and extortion. It was one of the most oppressive of the repartimientos.[78] Every Indian was compelled to purchase a mule, and was not allowed even the privilege of choosing the animal. The mules were distributed by the authorities, and were tied to the doors of the houses for whose occupants they were destined. After the distribution of the mules, a collector went round to receive the payment. During the war in Buenos Ayres the traffic in mules suffered very considerably. For the space of twelve years not a mule had been brought from that part of South America to Peru, when in 1840 the Tucumanians revisited the Sierra with their droves of mules. They were joyfully welcomed by the Serranos, who gave good prices for the animals, and since then the traffic has begun to revive.
In tracing the characteristic features of the Sierra, I have as far as possible confined myself to generalities, and I will not now weary the reader by entering upon a minute description of particular towns and villages. All are built pretty nearly after one model. The large quadrangular Plaza is closed on three of its sides with buildings, among which there is always the Government house (cabildo), and the public jail; the fourth side is occupied by a church. From this Plaza run in straight lines eight streets, more or less broad, and these streets are crossed at right angles by others; all presenting the same uniformity as in Lima. The houses are roomy, surrounded by court-yards, and consist of a ground-floor and a story above, but very frequently of the ground-floor only. The walls are of brick, and the roofs are tiled. The churches are in very bad taste, with the exception of a few in the larger towns, which have a good appearance externally, and are richly decorated within. The smaller Indian villages are poor and dirty, and are built with little attention to regularity. But even in them the quadrangular Plaza is never wanting, and at least four straight streets issue from it.
The Sierra is by far the most populous part of Peru. The banks of the rivers flowing through the fertile valleys are thickly clustered with villages, which give a peculiar charm to the landscape, doubly pleasing to the eye of the traveller who comes from the barren parts of the country. The cultivated lands afford evidence of progressive improvement, and it is easy to imagine the flourishing condition to which this country might arrive with increased population.
From the Sierra two separate roads lead to the eastern declivity of the Andes. One lies along the banks of the mountain rivers, and the other passes over the ridges of the mountains. The first way is very difficult, and scarcely practicable, for in some parts the streams flow through narrow ravines, bordered on each side by perpendicular rocks, and occasionally their course is hidden amidst impenetrable forests. The other way, across the mountains, leads again into the Puna region, and from thence over the steep ridges of the Andes to their barren summits. Descending from these summits, we arrive on the sharp ridges of one of the many side branches of the Puna Cordillera, which run eastward. The Peruvians call these sharp mountain ridges Cuchillas (knives). After crossing the Andes, and descending a few hundred feet lower, in the direction of the east, the traveller beholds a country totally different from that which he left on the western declivity of the mountains. On the eastern side the soil is richly covered with vegetation. From the cuchillas the road ascends to some higher ridges, crowned with stunted trees and brushwood, which, gradually spreading upward, blend with the high forests. These wooded ridges are called by the natives Ceja de la Montaña (the mist of the mountains). In these regions the climate is generally more mild than in the Sierra, for the mercury never falls to freezing point, and in the middle part of the day it never rises so high as in the warm Sierra valleys. Throughout the whole year the Ceja de la Montaña is overshadowed by thick mists, rising from the rivers in the valleys. In the dry season these mists are absorbed by the sun's rays, but in winter they float in thick clouds over the hills, and discharge themselves in endless torrents of rain. The damp vapors have an injurious effect on the health of the inhabitants of these districts, which are, however, very thinly populated, as the constant moisture unfits the soil for the cultivation of anything except potatoes. The pure alpine air of the Puna is preferred by the Indians to the vapory atmosphere of the Ceja.
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