It is curious to notice that among the white women of Lima there are no menials, though they are subject to many of the privations and humiliations of poverty; but, a poor girl of unmixed Spanish blood, though of lowly birth, feels, however destitute in her circumstances, the impulse of what she deems nobility within her; and at nothing do her prejudices more strongly recoil, than at the idea of becoming the wife of a man of African or slave descent.
Comely countenances—above all, a bright and beautiful eye—and pretty figures, with an inimitably graceful walk, constitute the common inheritance of the European race, who, in their own forms, partake of the softness and fineness of the climate in which they were brought into being. These are, in common with their tawny and darker countrywomen, extremely attentive to the public and outward ordinances of their showy religion, which must strike every one with a feeling of solemnity as, at the stroke of a bell at twilight, every human being engages in one common act of public devotion. They retain the common Catholic spirit of pious display, fasting, and penance; the same faith in the efficacy of saintly images and influences; the same reliance on priestly absolution and indulgences; but they do not cherish the cruelty or stern religion of their ancestors, whose ardent zeal planted the cross on the now mouldering ruins of Pachacamac.[10] Though little versed in book-information, they are usually gifted with natural acuteness and intelligence; are seldom quite ignorant of the ways of the world, even when educated in convents; are hardly ever so overcome by their tender feelings, or so blind to their worldly interests, as to fall into the folly of a genuine love-marriage; and they are never at a loss for a sagacious observation or pertinent reply. They are indulgent to human passion and weakness; are agreeable, sometimes fascinating companions; and never fail to leave the buen mozo, (the good-looking young man,) if not delighted with them, at least highly pleased with himself. Their conversation is sprightly and unembarrassed; and though particularly indulged and caressed from childhood, accustomed to flattery and fond of admiration, they are as free from obtrusive levity and affectation of manner, as from blushing timidity or cold reserve; their filial love is the admiration of foreigners; and, when blessed with good husbands, they are faithful and affectionate wives.
Nothing in Lima can strike the attention of a stranger, who understands their language, more than the propriety and fluency with which serving-people express their thoughts, and this they commonly do with an agreeable seasoning of the ease and manner of the higher classes; a fact, no doubt, attributable to much native ability on their own part, and to their having been brought up on a footing of great familiarity with their superiors. This recommendatory trait in the humblest ranks of the community is, we regret, fast giving way to the intrusive manners of the unrestrained and rising aristocracy of a mongrel brood—a dusky and bronzed brotherhood, whose very complexion indicates an incapacity to blush as apparent, at first sight, as among the white race used to be the long-honoured badge of the proud Spanish lineage—the “sangre azul!” blue blood!—so called, by the inferior races, in consideration of the hue of the veins rising to view under the delicate tissue of a pure white skin.
Wit, not unknown among the white women, is a general attribute of the mestizo and zambo septs, as well male as female. These people of colour are too much addicted to sarcasm, and too fond of the ludicrous and fantastical. When in a bilious or choleric mood, they are outrageously passionate; but then, with chicha-piña (fermented juice of the pine-apple), and nieve (ice or iced-water), they soon drown or freeze their fury, and restore to themselves equanimity and mirth. Instances of death from impetuous gusts of passion are, we believe, rare among them; though we have had occasion to hear of some such, and we have witnessed severe nervous ailments that arose from the turbulent emotion of their savage anger. Such mixed castes are remarkable for a great deal of what is by themselves called “broma,”—a facetious kind of bantering, with noisy fun and sensual dalliance, which is most displayed at their “jarranas,” or merry meetings: they like the theatre, and they are passionately fond of bull-fights, cock-fights, religious processions, and that sort of song and music which inflame the passions and deprave the heart—their feasts too often degenerate into debauchery, and their merriment into obscenity.
Boys of pure Spanish parentage or descent, in Lima, are usually animated and intelligent, like their sisters; but, as their bodily powers approach to maturity, their attention is engrossed with frivolous pleasures, which seem to enervate the mental faculties, and stint and vitiate their future expansion. It is, therefore, not unusual for hopeful boys to become childish and fickle, silly and fatuous men. The latter imbecility of mind we observe with striking frequency in the families of the suppressed nobility.
Those very few well-tempered spirits that have outgrown every obstacle to their full mental developement, have that inborn thirst after knowledge which even knowledge itself cannot quench; for, the more they learn, the more they aspire to know; and these men, with little external incitement to forward or nurture their literary tastes and pursuits, are like those plants on arid land, which only require a few fleeting showers to quicken their energies, develope their form, and unfold their beauty. Such choice persons are the delight of their friends, and worthy of that better state of society for which they daily sigh, as they see the best laws and institutions of their country trampled upon by military despots, whose nod they must obey, while they say in their hearts, “Vetitum est sceleri nihil!”
On the 24th of June, (Dia de San Juan,) all Lima annually assemble along the windings of the “Great Alamada,” and between orangeries now prettily laden with fruit, to the romantic mountain recess of “Amencaes,” only about one mile from town, and beautifully adapted for pleasure-grounds, if only supplied with water, which it might have at some expense. This spot commands a fine view of the capital, with its towering spires; of wide fields, innumerable orchards, the Rimac, and the fine lagoon at its mouth; the island of San Lorenzo, and the shipping at Callao; and it has, in its back-ground, a set-off in the acclivities newly clothed with vivid vegetation, among numerous crags and many a ridge and chasm. Here, on the day of San Juan—a day of festivity and joy—men, women, and children, of all ranks, all ages, and all colours and occupations, meet. Mirth is the object of one and all. Their horses, their asses, and even their own persons, are adorned in their best manner; and the rational as well as the irrational members of the ever-moving crowd are bedecked with the flower of Amencaes taken from the favourite clefts and nooks of these hills. In this place there are tents and sheds, that supply seats and refreshment for those who love the thoughtless and bawling mirth of the “jarrana.” There is at this exhibition a dunning confusion of musical discord kept up by drumming, piping, shouting, harping, and guitaring, singing, laughing, and dancing; but no fighting. Here too we may see the popular “paseo,” or promenade, of the “chuchumecas,” (women of immoral character,) who mingle freely and good-humouredly with the crowd, to the infinite amusement of the multitude. The national taste is on this, as on other occasions of festivity, eminently displayed by the loud and simultaneous laugh, or “carcajada,” of cheering voluptuaries when the samaqueca—a favourite dance—is exhibited in a free and masterly style.
The periodical rides and picnics of the Limenians to Las Huacas, Surco, and Lurin, are now dwindling away into neglect, as there is neither money nor public tranquillity for such happy scenes of customary gaiety. Carnival, with them, has lost its spirit; the Noche Buena, or Christmas-eve, is deprived of much of its revelry; and all that in their customs was most alluring and glittering is rapidly withering and dying away.
We may now, not unfrequently, observe more disposition to indulge in the gloomy and silent stillness of the “duelo,” or formal condolence for the dead, than in the hilarity of the golden times of these merry-making people, who were for generations most happy in the unconsciousness of defects, and in the conviction that no people on earth were superior to themselves in knowledge and civilization.
In all parts of the world there are criminally selfish and unprincipled men; and in Peru there may be found a set of rogues, called “Pillos,” rendered more numerous and troublesome from the circumstances of the times. Of these the capital presents two