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 a curvos, 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.