Читать книгу The Narrative of Twenty Years' Residence in South America - William Bennet Stevenson - Страница 15
CHAPTER VII.
ОглавлениеLeave Talcahuano in the Dolores. … Passage to Callao. … Arrival. … Taken to the Castle. … Leave Callao. … Road to Lima. … Conveyed to Prison.
My present situation was very disagreeable. The government of Conception had placed me on board a Spanish vessel, and had given orders to the captain to deliver me up, the moment he should arrive at Callao, to the governor of the fortress. At the same time he had been charged with letters, containing perhaps an account of my having landed on the Araucanian coast; of having visited part of that almost unknown territory, as also part of the province of Conception. Such it was reasonable to expect would be the information conveyed, if either the reports prevailing at that time respecting the cruel system of Spanish jealousy in their colonies were to be credited; or those which have been more recently circulated, that all foreigners would be incarcerated, sent to the mines or to places of exile, for having merely dared to tread the shores of this prohibited country. I should have desponded, had not practice taught me to regard those reports as exaggerated tales, the fictions or dreams of the biassed, and not worthy of the least belief. I was, at the time I landed, ignorant of the existence of any prohibitory laws; but I now reflected, that no doubt foreigners were not allowed to settle in a Spanish colony without having obtained those permissions and passports which are considered equally as indispensable here as in the British colonies; documents which are as essentially necessary to Englishmen as to foreigners; but I also recollected the kind treatment which I had received at Conception, as much a Spanish colony as the place of my destination; I had learned, too, that foreigners resided in this part of the country, some of whom were in the actual employ of the government; it had come to my knowledge that an Irishman, Don Ambrose Higgins, had filled the offices of Captain-General of Chile, and of Viceroy of Peru.—These reflections contributed to make me comparatively happy, and by adhering to a maxim which I had established, never to allow the shadow of future adversity to cloud the existence of present comfort, my life was always free from fear and disquietude. My stay among the pastoral indians of Arauco, for barbarous I cannot call them, had been one continued scene of enjoyment, unalloyed with any apprehension of approaching evils, and this conduct had not contributed a little to make me so welcome a guest. I had followed the same principles whilst at Conception with equal success.
The ship in which I embarked had on board eight thousand fanegas of wheat, with some other Chilean produce, and an abundance of poultry, for the Lima market; she was built at Ferrol in the year 1632, of Spanish oak, and was the oldest vessel in the Pacific; her high poop and clumsy shape forming a great contrast with some of the recently-built ships at Guayaquil, or those from Spain. The conduct of the captain, the officers and passengers, was marked with every kindness. I had a small cabin to myself, but I messed with the captain and passengers, and the eleven days which we were at sea were spent in mirth and gaiety, not a little heightened by the female part of a family going to settle in Lima. The father kindly invited me, should an opportunity present itself, to reside at his house during my stay in that city, an invitation of which I should certainly have availed myself had not circumstances prevented it. We were all anxiety to arrive at Callao, the sea-port of Lima, and although I had fewer reasons to wish it than others, still the idea of seeing something new is always pleasing, particularly to a traveller in a foreign country; besides, I had been informed on my passage that war had not been declared between England and Spain, and that the conduct of the government was to be attributed to their wish to prevent any English spies from residing at liberty in the country.
On the eleventh day after our leaving Talcahuano we made the island of San Lorenzo, which forms one side of the bay of Callao. It exhibits a dreary spectacle, not a tree, a shrub, nor even a blade of grass presents itself; it is one continued heap of sand and rock. Having passed the head land, (where a signal post was erected and a look-out kept, which communicated with Callao, through other signals stationed on the island) the vessels in the offing, the town and batteries at once opened on our view. The principal fortress, called the Royal Philip, Real Felipe, has a majestic appearance, although disadvantageously situated; it is on a level with the sea, and behind it the different ranges of hills rise in successive gradations until crowned with the distant prospect of the Andes, which in some parts tower above the clouds. These clouds, resting on the tops of the lower ranges seemed to have yielded their places in the atmosphere to those enormous masses, and to have prostrated themselves at their feet. As we approached the anchorage the spires and domes of Lima appeared to the left of the town of Callao. At the moment of landing, which is the most pleasing to travellers by sea, the passengers were all in high spirits, expecting to embrace ere long those objects of tender affection, from whom they had been separated by chance, interest, or necessity.
Previous to our coming to an anchorage, the custom-house boat with some others visited our ship, and I was sent ashore in that from the captain of the port. I was immediately conveyed to the castle, and delivered to the Governor. On my landing at Callao, I observed a considerable bustle on what may be called the pier. This pier was made in 1779, during the Viceroyalty of Don Antonio Amat, by running an old king's ship on shore, filling her with stones, sand, and rubbish, and afterwards driving round the parts where the sea washes piles of mangroves, brought from Guayaquil, and which appear to be almost imperishable in sea water. At the landing place I saw several boats employed in watering their ships, for which purpose pipes have been laid down, three feet under ground, to convey the water from a spring; hoses being attached to the spouts, the casks are filled either floating on the sea or in the boats.
The houses make a very sorry appearance; they are generally about twenty feet high, with mud walls, flat roof, and divided into two stories; the under one forms a row of small shops open in front, and the upper one an uncouth corridor. About a quarter of a mile from the landing place is the draw-bridge, over a dry foss, and an entrance under an arched gateway to the castle, the Real Felipe. I was presented to the Governor, a Spanish colonel, who immediately ordered me to the caloboso, one of the prisoners' cells: this was a room about one hundred feet long and twenty wide, formed of stone, with a vaulted roof of the same materials, having two wooden benches, raised about three feet from the ground, for the prisoners to sleep on. A long chain ran along the bench for the purpose of being passed through the shackles of the unhappy occupants, whose miserable beds, formed of rush mats, were rolled up, and laid near the walls. I had an opportunity to make a survey of this place before the prisoners entered; until then I was left quite alone, pondering over my future lot, for this was the first time I could consider myself a prisoner; however, I consoled myself with the hope of release, or if not, a removal to some more comfortable situation. In this hope I was not mistaken, for before the prisoners, who were malefactors employed at the public works, arrived, a soldier came and ordered me to follow him. He took up my bed, while I took care of my trunk, and in this manner I left the abode of crime and misery in which I had been placed. I was conducted to the guard-house, where that part of the garrison on duty are usually stationed. I now found myself among such a curious mixture of soldiers as eyes never witnessed in any other part of the world; but I reconciled myself to my lot, especially as it was not the worst place in the castle. In a short time I was sent for to the officers' room. I there found several agreeable and some well-informed young men, with two very obstinate and testy old ones, who, though of superior rank, were heartily quizzed by their subalterns. Such is the ease and frankness of the South Americans in general, that before I had been an hour in the room, one of the officers, a young lieutenant, and his brother, a cadet, had become as familiar with me as if we had been old acquaintance. They were natives of Lima, both had been educated at San Carlos, the principal college, and both lamented that the most useful branches of science were not taught in the Spanish colleges to that extent, and with that precision which they are in England. The lieutenant also observed, that as the rectors and heads of their colleges were churchmen, the studies were confined principally to theology, divinity and morality, which circumstance caused them to neglect the useful sciences; and this he ascribed as a reason why in those studies the students made little progress. But, continued he, our libraries are not destitute of good mathematical and philosophical books, which some of our young men study, and they are at all times willing to instruct their friends. I spent the time in a very agreeable chit chat with my new acquaintance till ten o'clock, when the lieutenant rose and requested me to wait his return, saying he was going to the governor for el santo, the watchword, and for the orders of the night. He returned in about half an hour, pulled off his uniform coat, put on a jacket, and then told me, in the most friendly manner, that the governor had given orders for my removal to Lima on the following morning; on which he congratulated me, saying, that as that was a large city I should be more comfortable, although a prisoner, than at Callao; he also informed me that, it being the first day of the month, September, 1803, part of the garrison would be relieved by detachments from the capital, and that he was included in that number, and would be happy in giving me a seat in the valancin, hackney coach, which he should hire. About twelve o'clock my bed and trunk were carried to his sleeping room, and I remained in conversation with him till day broke; we slept about an hour, and then arose to breakfast, which consisted of a cup of very good chocolate for each of us, some dry toast, and a glass of water. At eleven o'clock, the detachment having arrived, we left Callao in a valancin, which is a kind of carriage, having the body of a coach on two wheels, drawn by two horses, one in the shafts and the postillion mounted on the other.
The city of Callao, which was destroyed by an earthquake in 1746 and swallowed up by the sea, was at a short distance to the southward of the present town. On a calm day the ruins may yet be seen under water at that part of the bay called the mar braba, rough sea, and on the beach a sentry is always placed for the purpose of taking charge of any treasure that may be washed ashore, which not unfrequently happens. By this terrible convulsion of nature upwards of three thousand people perished at Callao alone. I afterwards became acquainted with an old mulatto, called Eugenio, who was one of the three or four who were saved; he told me that he was sitting on some timber which had been landed from a ship in the bay, at the time that the great wave of the sea rolled in and buried the city, and that he was carried, clinging to the log, near to the chapel, a distance of three miles.
From Callao to Lima it is six miles, with a good road, for which the country is indebted to Don Ambrose Higgins; but he unfortunately died, after being Viceroy three years, leaving this useful work incomplete. The finished part extends only about two miles from the gateway, at the entrance to the city, and has a double row of lofty willows on each side, shading the foot-walk. He also furnished it, at every hundred yards, with neat stone benches; and at about every mile a large circle with walls of brick and stone, four feet high, and stone seats are erected. These circles are formed for carriages to turn in with greater ease than on the road. On each side of the foot-walk runs a small stream of water, irrigating the willows in its course, and nourishing numberless luxuriant weeds and flowers. It was the intention of the Viceroy to carry the road down to Callao in the same style as it now exists near the city, but only the carriage road was finished. It has a parapet of brick raised two feet high on each side, to keep together the materials of the road. On the right hand side, going from the port, may be seen the ruins of an indian village, which was built before the discovery of South America. Some of the old walls are left, formed of clay, about two feet thick and six feet high, and which perhaps owe their present existence to the total absence of rain in this country. To the right is the town of Bellavista, to which parish Callao is attached, being called its anexo. Here is a hospital for seamen and the poorer class of the inhabitants. Half way between the port and the city stands a very neatly built chapel, to which is connected a small cloister; it is dedicated to the Virgin of Mount Carmel, and many visit it to fulfil some vow or other which they have made at sea to this Madonna, she being the protectress of seamen. Near the chapel is situated a house at which are sold good brandy and wine, and it may easily be guessed which establishment has the most customers! On approaching the city the quality of the soil appears to be very good; large gardens with luxuriant vegetables for the market, and fields of lucern and maize are here cultivated, and close to the city walls there are extensive orchards of tropical fruit trees, all irrigated with water drawn by canals from the river Rimac. The gateway is of brick, covered with stucco, with cornices, mouldings, and pillars of stone: it has three arches; the centre one for carriages has folding doors, the two lateral posterns are for foot passengers.
The mind of a traveller is naturally led to expect to find the inside of a city correspondent with the appearance of its entrance; but at Lima he will be deceived. The distant views of the steeples and domes, the beautiful straight road, its shady avenue of lofty willows, and its handsome gateway, are contrasted, immediately on passing them, with a long street of low houses with their porches and patios; small shops with their goods placed on tables at the doors; no glass windows; no display of articles of commerce; numbers of people of all colours, from the black African to the white and rosy coloured Biscayan, with all their intermediate shades, combined with the mixture of colour and features of the aborigines of America:—the mere observation of this variety of colours and features produces a "confusion beyond all confusions."
As a prisoner of war, although the two nations were at peace, I was conducted by my kind friend to the city gaol, carcel de la ciudad, where I remained shut up for eight months with about a hundred criminals of the worst description. Owing, however, to a recommendation and the promise of a remuneration from my good friend the lieutenant, the alcalde lodged me in a room at the entrance of the prison, allotted to persons of decent families, or to such as had the means of paying for this convenience.
I was fortunate enough to find here a native of Lima, an officer in the army, who was confined on suspicion of forgery. He was a very excellent man, and conducted himself towards me in a manner which contributed, not only to my comfort whilst I was a prisoner, but finally to my liberation. My first object in my confinement was to make myself perfectly master of the Spanish tongue, and to obtain some knowledge of Quichua, the court language of the Incas, and used wherever their authority had been established. I was the more desirous of becoming acquainted with this language, because it is spoken in the interior of Peru by all classes of people: the respectable inhabitants, however, also speak Spanish.