and bricks, those of Pachacamác seem to have been almost entirely built of stone hewn into the shape of tiles. So much of the wall as still remains is very strong and solid. According to tradition the walls of ancient Pachacamác once stretched as far as Cuzco, 240 miles distant E.N.E.!
The proprietor of the sugar plantation in the Lurin valley told me that he himself, about ten years previous, had seen mummies disinterred in the neighbourhood of Pachacamác, in the mouths of which were gold ornaments, while various objects were buried with them, such as small idols of gold and silver, staffs with golden buttons, earthen jars and vessels filled with Chicha (the well-known favourite intoxicating drink of the Indians), and fruits, the Chicha and fruits having remained in a wonderful state of preservation.[138]
On our way back to Chorillos we passed the beautifully situated village of Susco, environed with neat country-houses, which was a favourite summer retreat of the inhabitants of Lima, before Chorillos reached its present development. At present Susco is dreary and forsaken-looking.
When I reached Lima on my return from this interesting
excursion, I had only a few days more left before I was to take steamer again en route to Panama, which I employed in riding about to examine all that was best worth seeing in the environs, and making a few parting calls.
One of the finest promenades in Lima is the Alameda Nueva, opened about two years previous, which lies on the road to Amancaes on the further bank of the Rimac, which divides the city into two unequal parts, of which, however, far the larger one, constituting indeed the city proper, lies on the left or southern bank. After the romantic descriptions I had read of the Rimac, I found myself woefully undeceived by the reality. Of the thundering rapids below the bridge, of which Castelnau gives us such a picturesque sketch, I found not a trace visible, the greater part of the river-bed, 150 to 200 feet wide, being quite dry, with a wretched little driblet of water trickling through it. The season of the year may, however, have contributed to this disenchanting prospect, and in August and September, when the melting snows and violent rain-storms of the neighbouring Cordilleras swell the brooks and rivers, they possibly impart a more imposing and lively aspect to the Rimac. The stone bridge over the river, which forms the communication with the suburb of San Lazaro, is a handsome structure, built in 1638-1640, from the designs of an Augustine monk, and cost nearly half a million dollars.
The Alameda Nueva consists of a long, wide lane, with pretty garden nurseries and flower-beds on either side, interspersed with tasteful marble statues life-size, the whole enclosed in an
elegant iron railing richly ornamented. In the winter season, more particularly (June to September), this beautiful promenade is in great request, when, after a few heavy falls of dew, the hills and valleys of the environs are covered with verdure of the most delicate shades, and the residents of the capital wander through the lovely glades of Amancaes, which is so overrun with the yellow blossoms of the Amaryllis (Ismene Hamancaes of Herbert), that this fine plant has given its name to the whole valley. On such occasions quite a colony of booths is extemporized, where eatables and drinkables are consumed, and giants and dwarfs, panoramas and art-saloons, are thronged with visitors, while ballad-singers, musicians, rope-dancers, mountebanks, jugglers, gamblers, and thieves, are never weary of plying their various trades, to the lightening of the purses of the pleasure-seeking crowds.
Of public amusements and places of resort there are but few in Lima, and these not of a very refined description. The theatre is an old and downright ugly building, where Spanish comedians play indifferent pieces. An Italian operatic company proved a failure owing to want of subscribers, even the highest talent barely succeeding in gaining sufficient to charter a ship to carry the troupe back to Europe. The sole amusement, which never fails to collect a delighted multitude, is a bull-fight. These come off at intervals during the summer in the Plaza del Acho, in an uncovered amphitheatre specially built for the purpose, and constructed of sun-dried brick. On these days all Lima is in a state of excitement, and an incalculable
crowd of curious sight-seers of both sexes are hastening through the Alameda Nueva to the arena, there to gloat over the bloody scene. Fully 12,000 to 15,000 human beings throng into the confined area; each hastily deposits his half dollar (2s.) of entrance-money, so as to get the chance of a better seat. One would think it must be to a splendid soul-elevating drama that they are flocking to listen to, whereas it is but the torture of a wretched herbivore that excites their depraved curiosity. The reader will excuse me for not reiterating the loathsome details of an often-told spectacle.