Thursday, April 9. At twelve o’clock to-day all the bells in Lima rung out a simultaneous peel, and were then sent to Rome to be blessed by the Pope. They will return again, it is understood, on Saturday, and announce their arrival from their respective steeples. Their visit to the pontifex maximus must of course be taken in a metaphorical, or Picwickian sense. It is a constructive journey, such as our honorable senators take at the inauguration of a new president.
As the bells left for Rome every shop in Lima was closed. No public or private vehicle was seen in any street. Even the donkeys, with their water tanks, disappeared from the city fountains. Every man, woman, and child suspended their amusements, labors, and secular cares. The dominoes lay untouched, and the cue of the billiard-table stood unmolested in its rack. Men passed each other in the streets without the customary salutations. It was as if the whole city had been suddenly struck into a speechless awe and reverence.
This was intended to portray an appropriate sense of the scenes which occurred in Jerusalem, when redeeming Love underwent the agonies of the Cross. Its significance lay in the exhibition of a seeming sympathy with the sorrows of the sufferer. It was a silent allegorical tragedy, in which each one found himself an actor. To me no other exhibition in the ceremonies of Holy Week had so much moral force. Silence often makes itself felt, when thunder passes unheeded.
Friday, April 10. All good Limaneans, with the president and his cabinet at their head, made last night the circuit of the principal churches. In each was a representation, in effigy, of some scene connected with the Crucifixion. In San Lorenzo was the Last Supper. The table was spread within the chancel in front of the high altar, and was loaded with the richest viands and fruits, while each plate had its bottle of wine and roll of bread. A profane epicure might have forgotten the sacredness of the symbols in the culinary skill and taste which they displayed.
In the church of San Domingo was represented the accusation before Pilate. Beneath the high altar sat the Roman governor, with his court on either hand; before them raved the accusers, while within stood in silent meekness the divine Victim. Near Pilate knelt a page, with a bowl of water in one hand, and a napkin in the other, that this arbiter of life and death might cleanse his hands of guilt. The whole scene betrayed an extravagance in attitude and emotion better suited to the drama than the solemnity of the occasion.
In the church of San Francisco the slender trees of Gethsemane cast their still shadows over the kneeling form of the Son of God. By his side stood an angel with that cup which might not pass away. In the great Cathedral, the summit of Calvary, with the cross and the crowd, rose in solemn gloom. In San Pedro, the Roman guard, with drawn swords, kept their grim watch over the tomb. The moral effect of all these exhibitions in a Protestant community would be to impair the awful reality; and even here they appeared to inspire but a qualified reverence. The mass gazed as a curious child stops in its play to look at a picture that has momentarily caught its roving eye.
Saturday, April 11. The great band of musicians, connected with the army, passed through the principal streets of Lima last night, playing a funeral wail. The subdued strains rose through the silent air mournful as melodies from out the grave. This was intended to be significant of the anxious sorrow which watched around the tomb where Death had temporarily asserted his empire over the Prince of Life.
At an early hour this morning the church of San Augustine was filled to overflowing with the beauty of Lima. A large choir and orchestra had been brought together on the occasion. The music commenced in strains of lamentation and grief; and at last burst into expressions of the most triumphant joy. At this moment the bells in all the towers of the city, and which had been silent since Thursday, rung out an exulting peel. This was the announcement of the Resurrection! The whole assemblage fell on their knees and joined in the Hosanna which seemed to shake the pillars of the great edifice.
The whole scene was now changed. Throughout the city gladness lighted every countenance, and the gayest attire took the place of the gloomy sables. The confectionaries, the fruit-stalls, the wine-shops, the billiard-tables, were all thrown open, and were filled by crowds giddy with the excitement of the joyous transition. Mothers played with their infants; maidens twined jessamine-flowers in their locks; children fired off their crackers; cripples neglected their crutches; creditors forgot their insolvent debtors; and even the barefooted monk passed you without soliciting charity. He strode on, independent as a lord.
Sunday, April 12. The jubilation continued through the whole of last night. Evening found the living tides of the city upon the great public square. Here every species of trick and merriment, with the humor of the hour, convulsed the crowd with laughter. All distinctions and all restraints were cast aside. All classes and all colors mingled together like leaves of the forest in the whirl of the autumnal winds.