Facing the river is a large balcony from which the Governor views the yearly boat-race that takes place on the birthday of the King. This boat-race is one of the great events of the year and is usually rowed by native champions.
The interior of the Palace is of unusual splendor, and there is evidence on every hand of great pomp and ceremony. A host of liveried servants and numerous guards in showy uniforms are everywhere apparent. There is an excellent library and a spacious ball-room, where receptions are held, to which, several times a year, the élite of the city and distinguished visitors are invited.
The Governor rides in a carriage drawn by four horses, with several outriders, who, by means of a shrill whistle, announce his approach. All streets are instantly cleared and traffic suddenly ceases, every one standing still to make respectful obeisance. On, on, they come, the dashing four, with the postilions in scarlet jackets. The Governor, dressed in civilian’s dress, sits within—the picture of dignity. He bows right and left, in that perfunctory way characteristic of public dignitaries the world over, and the carriage passes on, while the citizens resume their wonted demeanor and avocations.
The Jesuits support and manage a fine observatory. And there is a large botanical garden, now neglected; but it could easily be made the finest in the world. The English Club, in the suburbs, is noted for its hospitality and for the delightful personality of its members. Most of the hotels are bad, with poor accommodations. The Hotel de Oriente, however, is a noteworthy exception.
The police of the city are natives, and are under military discipline. The department of police is known as the Municipal Guard. From 10 o’clock at night until 5 o’clock in the morning night-watchmen patrol the city.
A Rear View of the Governor-General’s Palace.
One is struck by the number of carriages in the thoroughfares, drawn by pretty ponies of mixed Chinese and Andalusian breed. There are also many hacks to hire. The drivers, too, are as civil in address as they are moderate in their charges. There are three days in the year when the ponies are given absolute rest. These are Holy Wednesday, Thursday, and Good Friday,—when no traffic is permitted, only the Archbishop and the doctors being allowed to ride in carriages. On these days the church-bells are muffled, and the people, dressed in sombre black, walk solemnly in the various religious processions. A vast concourse assembles in the several squares to await the toll that shall announce the end of the fast and of this enforced abstinence from labor and worldly care. As soon as the first stroke is given, there is a mighty rush in every direction, a thousand ponies are trotted through the streets, ten thousand natives renew their daily traffic with clamorous zeal, which shows how feeble was the bond that kept them under restraint.
A Water-girl.