CHAPTER XVII.
A Grand Plaza.—Retribution.—The University of Lima.—Significance of Ancient Pottery.—Architecture.—Picturesque Dwelling.—Domestic Scene.—Destructive Earthquakes.—Spanish Sway.—Women of Lima.—Street Costumes.—Ancient Bridge of Lima.—Newspapers.—Pawnbrokers' Shops.—Exports.—An Ancient Mecca.—Home by Way of Europe.
The large square in Lima, known as Plazuela de la Independencia, is grand in its proportions. One prominent feature is the bronze statue of Bolivar, the famous South American patriot. It also contains the old palace of the Inquisition, which looks to-day more like a stable than a palace. This detestable institution attained to greater scope and power here than it did even in Mexico. According to its own records, during its existence in the capital of Peru, fifty-nine persons were publicly burned alive as heretics, because they would not acknowledge the Roman Catholic faith, thousands were tortured until in their agony they agreed to anything, while thousands were publicly scourged to the same end. Could the truth be fully known as regards the bigoted reign of the priesthood at the time referred to in Peru, it would form one of the most startling chapters of modern history. But they were their own chroniclers, and suppressed everything which might possibly reflect upon themselves or upon their church. Retribution was slow, but it has come finally. The former convent of Guadeloupe is now occupied for a worthy object as a high school; the main portion of the cloisters of San Francisco have made way for the college of San Marco; that of San Carlos has supplanted the Jesuits; San Juan de Dios is now occupied as a railway station; while the once famous and infamous convent of Santa Catalina serves to-day as the public market.
The University of Lima was the first seat of education established in the New World, or, to fix the period more clearly in the average reader's mind, it dates from about seventy years before the historic Mayflower reached the shore of New England. The National Library contains some forty thousand volumes, also a collection of Peruvian antiquities, besides many objects of natural history, mostly of such examples as are indigenous to this section. There is one large oil painting in this building by a native artist named Monteros, the canvas measuring thirty by twenty feet. The title is "Obsequies of Atahualpa." This was carried away by the thieving Chilians, but was finally restored to Peru. It should be mentioned, to their lasting shame, that the books which they stole at the same time have not been returned.
The ancient pottery one sees in the collection of Peruvian antiquities is wonderfully like that to be found in the Boulak Museum at Cairo, in Egypt, Etruscan and Egyptian patterns prevailing over all other forms, which strongly suggests a common origin. Besides those which we have named, there are several other educational and art institutions in the city, together with three hospitals, two lunatic asylums, a college of arts, and the National Mint. One hospital, bearing the name of the Second of May Hospital, is a very large and thoroughly equipped establishment, occupying a whole square, and having accommodations for seven hundred patients. There are four theatres, one of which is conducted by the Chinese after their own peculiar fashion. The outsides of the dwelling-houses are painted in various brilliant colors, a practice which is found to prevail all over the southern continent, and which exhibits an inherent love among the people for warm, bright hues. The roofs of most houses serve as a depository for hens and chickens, noisy gamecocks especially asserting themselves before daybreak, forbidding all ideas of morning naps, unless one is accustomed to the din. Many of the dwellings are picturesque and attractive, with overhanging balconies and bay windows, the latter oftentimes finished very elaborately with handsome wood carvings and open-work lattices. As to the prevailing style of architecture, it is Spanish and Moorish combined, each building being constructed about a central patio, which is often rendered lovely with flowers and statuary, together with small orange and lemon trees in large painted tubs.
The abundance of cracks in the walls of the dwellings, both inside and out, is a significant hint that we are in an earthquake country. A slight shake is hardly spoken of at all; they come so often as to be comparatively unheeded.
In the environs of Lima the houses are built of adobe, rarely over one story in height, with very thick walls, this style having been found the best to resist the earthquakes, which must be very serious indeed to affect a low adobe house with walls two feet and a half thick. About these residences, which, not to put too fine a point upon the matter, are really nothing but mud cabins, there is often seen an attractive and refining feature, namely, small, but exceedingly pretty plots of cultivated flowers. It is astonishing how perfectly they serve to throw a flavor of refinement over all things else. The variety and fragrance of the Lima roses are something long to be remembered, and the people here seem to have a special love for this most popular of flowers. We had missed them nearly everywhere else in South America; therefore they were thrice welcome when they greeted us at Lima.
There is a dwelling-house in this city belonging to an old and rich family, which is worth a pilgrimage to see. It is built of stone, artistically carved, with a square balcony and bay window on each side of the tall, spacious, and elaborately ornamented doorway. It is clearly Moorish in type, and must be nearly or quite three hundred years old. Photographs are found of its façade in the art stores of Lima, and most visitors bring one away with them as a memento of the place. The house stands even with the thorough-*fare, and is only two stories in height, but is a beautiful relic of the past. It would be quite in accordance with the surroundings, were it to be transported to Cairo or Bagdad.
On the way from the Plaza Mayor to this attractive bit of Morisco architecture, one gets frequent glimpses of pretty, cool, flower-decked patios, about which the low picturesque dwellings are erected, and where domestic life is seen in partial seclusion. An infant is playing on the marble paved court, watched by a dark Indian nurse. An ermine-colored cockatoo with a gorgeous yellow plume is gravely eying the child from its perch. Creeping vines twine about the slim columns which support a low arcade above the entrance floor. Farther in, a bit of statuary peeps out from among the greenery, which is growing in high-colored wooden tubs. The vine, which clings tenaciously to the small columns, is the passion plant, its flowers seeming almost artificial in their regularity, brightness, and abundance. A fair señora in diaphanous robes reclines at ease in a low, pillowed seat, and the señor, cigarette in mouth, swings leisurely in a hammock.
It was a pretty, characteristic family picture, of which we should be glad to possess a photograph.