The largest buildings in Lima are, as we might expect from a country conquered and colonized by Spaniards, the churches and monasteries, of which there are in this capital
no fewer than eighty. Many of these Spanish memorials, of a religious epoch more bigoted than sincere, are at present decayed, and even those which are still preserved in something like good order fail to charm the eye by any graces of architecture or majestic simplicity in their interior fittings up. The Cathedral even, which takes up almost the entire east side of the chief square, is no exception to this rule, and, though it was 90 years in erection, is after all a very indifferent edifice. The interior is lofty and spacious, but owing to the choir having its proportions curtailed by a wide altar in the midst, one perceives on entering the church only the smaller half, so that the impression is destroyed, which, but for this interposed erection, would undoubtedly be made by the high altar, richly overlaid with gold and silver, seen through the vista of the entire building. The ornaments, the sacred vessels, and censers used in performing mass are exceedingly rich and valuable, but are too much overlaid to please an æsthetic taste. In the catacombs of the Cathedral repose the remains of Francisco Pizarro. Few strangers omit to visit this spot, and usually feel as much surprised as pleased at finding offered them for sale by the sacristan, various sorts of relics of the renowned conqueror of Peru, though all cannot hope to be so fortunate as an English lady at Lima, who informed me with all gravity that she had purchased from a guide a slipper taken from the coffin of Pizarro. Should this mania for relics on the part of visitors, and readiness to humour it on the part of vergers, continue
unchecked, there will remain ere long in the catacombs only an empty shell, in which once lay the celebrated Conquistador. Perhaps, though, the speculative sacristan contents himself with gratifying the wishes of curiosity-loving visitants, by means similar to those of the artful cicerone who accompanies the enthusiastic stranger in his rambles among the ruins of classic antiquity.
The monastery of San Francisco is more worth notice for its immense extent, which equals in size many an old imperial walled city of Suabia, than for elegance of style or tasteful artistic interior. The façade, painted in various colours, and overlaid with ornament, resembles by far more a Buddha temple than a Roman Catholic church. The corridors are the finest part of the building, their wooden ceilings being very richly carved. On all the walls of the passages are suspended drawings illustrative of the lives of various holy men, which, however, singular to say, are hung with their faces to the wall, and are only turned round on appointed festivals to charm the eyes of believers!
The church is very roomy within, but quite bare of ornament. The sacristan with evident pride directed our attention to San Benito, a "black" saint, who was held in high esteem by the negroes, probably on account of his colour. Quite close to the monastery is the "Casa de Ejercicios," whither the monks repair at certain periods of the year to perform the prescribed religious exercises. The cells here have a more comfortless look than in the cloister proper. A
bed-frame with a skin stretched upon it, a hard stool, a plain table, a crucifix, and a human skull, comprise the entire inventory. The latter, the cranium of a departed brother, was covered with numerous aids to religious meditation, some written, some carved on the substance of the bone.
The lay-brother who escorted us round had not long been a denizen of this gloomy monastic abode. Though still very young, he was leaving behind him a tolerably enlarged experience of the world. Starting as a gold-digger in California, he became a gambler and speculator, when he quickly lost all he had so laboriously wrested from the soil, and returned to Lima, where, more for the sake of change and comfort than for any special vocation or imperious spiritual necessity, he had entered the order of Franciscans. His temperament being much more that of a man of the world than a monk, he must have felt himself sorely hampered by the restrictions of monastrism, were it not for the lax morality which is the standard of convent life in the capital of Peru; but the monk's cowl is in Lima not only the attire of humility and resignation, it is likewise the cloak for all manner of licentiousness and hypocrisy—the "surtout" which conceals many a lapse from virtue!
The monastery of San Pedro was the wealthiest in Lima, so long as it remained the property of the Jesuits. When, in 1773, the order went forth for the suppression of the Order throughout South America, it was not executed without the Spanish viceroy's cherishing certain secret hopes of obtaining
large riches. The Jesuits, however, on this occasion vindicated their reputation for subtlety, which has become proverbial among mankind. When the inventory was taken, nothing but empty boxes were to be found, and the most strict investigations and inquiries led to no more favourable result.
Among the hospitals which we visited, that of San Andres deserves foremost notice for its size and comprehensiveness. It has room for 600 patients, who are tended by 50 Sœurs de la Charité, the majority of whom are French. The yellow fever, which, introduced in 1852 by immigrants, penetrated deep into the interior, though of a milder type, had of late carried off numerous victims, and indeed had seriously weakened the hygienic good name[133] of Lima; the small-pox also had annually committed fearful ravages; for vaccination is not made imperative by law, and inoculation is therefore neglected. Besides the hospital of St. Andrew, there are others for female patients, for the military, for incurables and imbeciles, an asylum for orphans,[134] and one for foundlings.[135]