Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 60, No. 369, July 1846

Meteors frequently appear as forerunners of the earthquakes, amongst whose consequences may be reckoned the sudden sterilizing of districts previously fruitful, but which, after one of these convulsions of nature, refuse for many years to put forth vegetation. No frequency of repetition diminishes the alarm and horror occasioned by the shocks. The inhabitants of Lima, although accustomed from their earliest childhood to the constant recurrence of such phenomena, spring from their beds at the first quivering of the earth, and with cries of "misericordia!" rush out of their houses. The European, who knows nothing of earthquakes but the name, almost wishes for the arrival of one, and is sometimes inclined to laugh at the terror of the Peruvians; but when he has once felt a shock, any disposition to make merry on the subject disappears, and his dread of its recurrence is even greater than that of the natives. The deeply unpleasant impression left by an earthquake, is in Lima heightened by the plegarias or general prayers that succeed it. The shock has no sooner been felt, than a signal is given from the cathedral, and during ten minutes all the bells in the town toll with long, measured strokes to call the inhabitants to their devotions.

A pleasant country to live in! Those who may feel tempted by the doctor's commendation of the fascinating Limeñas – the delightful, although not very healthy, climate – the luscious fruits, and gorgeous flowers, and manifold wonders of Peru – to gird up their loins and betake themselves thither, will perhaps think twice of it when they learn that an earthquake might, and probably would, be their welcome. Descriptions of tropical countries remind us of those pictures of Italian festivals, where nymph-like damsels and Antinöus-looking youths are gracefully dancing round grape-laden cars; whilst some fine old Belisarius of a grandpapa, white bearded and benignant, sits upon the shaft and smiles upon his descendants. One sees the graceful forms, the classic features, the bursting grapes, and the bright sunshine; all of which, like enough, are depicted to the life, but one sees nothing of the filth, and nastiness, and crawling vermin, that would awfully shock us in the originals of the picture. Not that we mean to accuse Dr Tschudi of painting Peru in rose-colour, or remaining silent as to its defects. He is a conscientious traveller, and gives us things as he finds them. Besides the great nuisance of the earthquakes, and the lesser one of dirt, already adverted to; besides the armies of fleas, which render even the Lima theatre almost unvisitable – not mild European fleas, but sanguinary Spanish-American ones; besides the malaria in the swamps, the piques, chinches, mosquitos, and other insect tormentors, he favours us with some agreeable details touching the highwaymen who infest the whole coast of Peru, but especially the neighbourhood of Lima and Truxillo. They are usually runaway slaves, simarrones, as they are called, or else free negroes, zambos, and mulattos. Now and then Indians are found amongst them, who make themselves conspicuous by their cold-blooded cruelties, and occasionally even a white man takes to this infamous trade. In 1839 a North American, who had served on board of a man-of-war, was shot for highway robbery. Shooting, it must be observed, appears to be the usual way of inflicting capital punishment in Peru. These banditti, well mounted and armed, are very bold and numerous, and most of them belong to an extensive and well organised band, which has branches in various directions. Sometimes they approach the city in parties of thirty or forty men, and plunder all travellers who leave it. They prefer attacking foreigners, and usually spare the richer and more influential Peruvians, which may be one cause that stronger measures are not adopted against them. Shortly before Dr Tschudi's departure from Lima, they attacked the feeble escort of a sum of one hundred thousand dollars, which were on their way to the mines of Cerro de Pasco, and carried off the money. The silver bars sent from the mines to the city they allow to pass unmolested, as being too heavy and cumbersome. The unfortunate peasants who come in from the mountains on jackasses, with eggs and other produce, are marked for their particular prey, on account of the money which they usually carry with them to make purchases in the town. If no dollars are found on them, they are killed or terribly maltreated. We pass over some stories of the cruelties exercised by these bandits. Here is one of another sort. "One night that I found myself at Chancay," says the doctor, "an Indian told me the following anecdote: About half a mile from the village, he said, he had been met by a negro, who approached him with carbine cocked, and ordered him to halt. The Indian drew a large pistol, and said to the robber, 'You may thank heaven that this is not loaded, or it would be all over with you.' Laughing scornfully, the negro rode up and seized the Indian, who then pulled the trigger of his pistol and shot him dead on the spot."

When attacked by the police or military, the robbers display desperate courage in their defence. Sometimes they take shelter in the bush or thicket, to which, if the space of ground it covers be not too extensive, the pursuers set fire on all sides; so that the bandits have no choice but to perish or yield themselves prisoners. In the latter case their trial is very short, and after they have been left shut up with a priest for the space of twelve hours, they are brought out and shot. They are allowed to choose their place of execution, and must carry thither a small bench or stool upon which they sit down. Four soldiers stand at a distance of three paces; two aim at the head and two at the heart. A few years ago a Zambo of great daring was sentenced to death for robbery, and he demanded to be shot upon the Plaza de la Inquisicion. He sat down upon his bench – the soldiers levelled and fired. When the smoke of the discharge blew away, the Zambo had disappeared. He had watched each movement of the soldiers, and at the very moment that they laid finger on trigger, had thrown himself on one side and taken refuge amidst the crowd, some of whom favoured his escape. In time of war a corps is formed composed chiefly of these banditti, and of men who have made themselves in some way obnoxious to the laws. They go by the name of Montoneros, and are found very useful as spies, skirmishers, despatch-bearers, &c., but are generally more remarkable for cruelty than courage. They wear no uniform; and sometimes they have not even shoes, but strap their spurs on their naked heels. In the year 1838, the Anglo-Peruvian general, Miller, commanded a thousand of these montoneros who were in the service of Santa Cruz. When war is at an end, these wild troops disband themselves, and for the most part return to their former occupation.

Abandoning Lima and its environs, Dr Tschudi takes us with him on a visit to the various towns and villages along the coast, proceeding first north and then south of the capital. In a coasting voyage to the port of Huacho, he has the honour to reckon amongst his fellow passengers, Lord Cochrane's friend, the celebrated Padre Requena, then cura of that town. Of this ecclesiastic, of whom he, after his arrival, saw a good deal, he draws a picture which may be taken as a general type of the Peruvian priesthood, and is by no means creditable to them. Requena's chief passion is coursing, and his greatest annoyance, during Dr Tschudi's stay in Huacho, was, that ill health, brought on by his excesses, prevented him from indulging it. He had several magnificent horses, and a numerous pack of greyhounds, some of which latter had cost him one hundred and fifty and two hundred dollars a-piece. His seraglio was almost as well stocked as his kennel, and the number of children who called him tio, or uncle, the usual term in Peru in such cases, was quite prodigious. He took great pride in talking of his friendship with Lord Cochrane. He died a few weeks after his return to Huacho, and delayed so long to send for a confessor that the Indians at last surrounded the house with frightful menaces, and sent in a priest to render him the last offices of the church. He had great difficulty in making up his mind to death, or, as he expressed it, to a separation from his greyhounds and horses. At almost the last moment, when his hands began to grow cold, he made his negro put on them a pair of buckskin gloves.

This respectable priest was by no means singular in his love of the chase, of which frequent examples are to be found in Peru. On reaching Quipico, the most easterly plantation in the beautiful valley of Huaura, Dr. Tschudi had scarcely entered the courtyard when he was surrounded by upwards of fifty greyhounds, whilst from every quarter others came springing towards him. They were the remains of a pack that had belonged to one Castilla, recently the owner of the plantation, and whose usual establishment consisted of two to three hundred of these dogs, with which he every day went coursing. The strictest discipline was kept up amongst this lightfooted multitude. At stated hours a bell summoned them to their meals, and in the kennel stood a gibbet, as a warning to the lazy or perverse. One day, when Castilla was out hunting, an Indian came up, with an ordinary-looking crossbred dog. In spite of his looks this dog out-stripped the whole pack, and pulled down the roebuck. Castilla immediately purchased him at the enormous price of three hundred and fifty dollars. A few days afterwards he again went out with his best hounds and his new acquisition. The leashes were slipped, and the greyhounds went off like the wind, but the crossbreed remained quietly by the horses. The same afternoon he was hung up to the gallows, an example to his fellows.

The whole extent of the Peruvian coast, from its northern to its southern extremity, presents nearly the same aspect; vast deserts of sand, varied by fruitful valleys, with their villages and plantations; seaport towns there where nature or commerce has encouraged their foundation; alternate insupportable heat and damp fog; scarcity of men; crumbling monuments of a period of riches and greatness. In the sandy plains it is no unusual occurrence for travellers to lose their way and perish for thirst. In that fervent and unhealthy climate, human strength rapidly gives way before want of food and water. In the year 1823 a transport carrying a regiment of dragoons, three hundred and twenty strong, stranded on the coast near Pisco. The soldiers got on shore, and wandered for thirty-six hours through the sand-waste, out of which they were unable to find their way. At the end of that time they were met by a number of horsemen with water and food, who had been sent out from Pisco to seek them, but already one hundred and fifty of the unfortunates had died of thirst and weariness, and fifty more expired upon the following day. Forty-eight hours' wandering in those arid deserts, deprived of food and drink, is certain death to the strongest man. Rivers are scarce, and even where the bed of a stream is found, it is in many instances dry during the greater part of the year. The traveller's danger is increased by the shifting nature of the sand, which the wind raises in enormous clouds, and in columns eighty to one hundred feet high. The medanos are another strange phenomenon of these dangerous wilds. They are sandhills in the form of a crescent, ten to twenty feet high, and with a sharp crest. Their base is moveable, and when impelled by a tolerably strong wind, they wander rapidly over the desert; the smaller ones, more easily propelled, preceding the large. The latter, however, after a time, prevent the current of air from reaching the former – take the wind out of their sails, it may be said – and then run over and crush them, themselves breaking up at the same time. In a few hours, what was previously a level, is often covered with ranges of hillocks, hindering a view of the horizon, and bewildering the most experienced wanderers through these perilous regions. In November the summer begins. The scorching rays of the sun break through the grey covering of the heavens, and threaten to consume, by their intensity, the entire vegetable and animal creation. Not a plant finds nourishment, nor a beast food upon the parched and glowing soil; no bird or insect floats upon the sultry air. Only in the upper regions is seen the majestic condor, flying towards the ocean. All life and movement is now confined to the coast. Troops of vultures assemble around the stranded carcases of sea monsters; otters and seals bask beneath the cliffs; variegated lizards scamper over the sand-heaps, and busy crabs and sea-spiders dig into the damp shore. In May the scene changes. A thin veil of mist spreads over sea and coast, gradually thickening, until in October the sun again dispels it. At the beginning and end of this winter, as it is called, the fog generally rises at nine or ten in the morning, and is again dissipated at three in the afternoon. It is thickest in August and September, when, for weeks together, it does not lift. It never changes into rain, but only into a fine penetrating mist, called the garua. On many parts of the Peruvian coast, it never rains, excepting after a very violent earthquake, and even then not always. The usual height of the fog from the ground is seven or eight hundred feet. It never exceeds a height of twelve hundred feet, nor is found at all beyond a few miles from the coast, at which distance it is replaced by violent rains. The boundary line between rain and fog may be determined with almost mathematical accuracy. Dr Tschudi visited two plantations, one about six leagues from Lima, the other in the neighbourhood of Huacho, one half of which was annually watered by the garuas, and the other half by rain. A wall was built upon the line where one mode of irrigation ceased and the other began.

The province of Yca, whose soil is sandy, and to all appearance incapable of producing any description of vegetation, is devoted to the culture of the vine, which perfectly succeeds there. The young plants are set half a foot deep in the sand, and left to themselves; they speedily put forth leaves, and yield a luxuriant crop of grapes, remarkable for flavour and juiciness. These are mostly used for brandy, with which the whole of Peru and great part of Chili are supplied from the valley of Yca. It is of excellent quality, especially a sort made from muscatel grapes, and called aguardiente de Italia. Very little wine is made, except by one planter, Don Domingo Elias, who has attempted it after the European fashion. The result has been a wine resembling Madeira and Teneriffe, only much more fiery, and containing a larger proportion of alcohol. The brandy was formerly conveyed to the coast in huge earthen botijas, capable of containing one hundred and fifty to one hundred and seventy-five pounds weight of the liquor; but these were continually broken, chiefly by the thirsty mules across which they were slung like panniers, and who, when rushing in crowds to the watering-places, invariably smashed a number of them against each other. To remedy this the brandy-growers have adopted the use of goat-skins; and the manner in which, upon many plantations, these are prepared, is as frightful a piece of barbarity as can well be imagined. A negro hangs up the goat, alive, by the horns, makes a circular cut through the skin of the neck, and strips the hide from the agonized beast, which is only killed when completely flayed. The pretext for this execrable cruelty is, that the skin comes off more easily, and is found more durable. It is to be hoped that the planters will have sufficient humanity speedily to do away with so horrible a practice.

The negro carnival, which Dr Tschudi witnessed at Yca, appears to us, of the two, a more civilized performance than the Creole carnival at Lima. In various of the streets large arches, tastefully decorated with ribands, are erected; the negresses and zambas dance beneath then; whilst the allotted task of the men is to gallop through without being stopped. If the women succeed in checking the horse, and pulling the rider out of the saddle, the latter has to pay a fine, and gets laughed at to boot. It is difficult to know which to admire most; the speed of the horses, the skill of the riders, or the daring of the women, who throw themselves upon the horse as he comes on at full gallop. As the horsemen approach, they are pelted with unripe oranges, which, thrown by a strong-armed zamba, are capable of inflicting tolerably hard knocks. Dr Tschudi saw one negro who, during a whole hour, galloped backwards and forwards without being stopped, and concluded by giving an extraordinary proof of muscular strength. At the very moment that he passed under the arch, he stooped forward over his horse's neck, caught up a negress under each arm, and rode off with them!

Opposite to the ports of Pisco and Chincha, lie a number of small islands, noted for their large deposits of guano, or huanu, as Dr Tschudi corrects the orthography of the word. The doctor gives some very interesting particulars concerning this efficacious manure, which, although but recently adopted in Europe, appears to have been used in Peru as far back as the time of the first Incas. The Peruvians use it chiefly for the maize and potato fields; their manner of employing it is peculiar, and but little known in Europe. A few weeks after the seeds have begun to germinate, a small hole is made beside each plant, filled with huanu and covered up with earth. Twelve or fifteen hours later the whole field is laid under water, and left so for a few hours. The effect of the process is incredibly rapid. In a very few days the plants attain double their previous height. When the operation is repeated, but with a smaller quantity of the huanu, the farmer may reckon upon a crop at least threefold that which he would obtain from an unmanured soil. Of the white huanu, which is much stronger than the dark-coloured, less must be used, and the field must be watered sooner, and for a longer time, or the roots will be destroyed. When the land is tolerably good, seven hundred and fifty to nine hundred pounds of huanu are reckoned sufficient for a surface of fourteen thousand square feet; with poor soil a thousand to twelve hundred pounds are required.

The waters that wash the coast of Peru swarm with fish, upon many of which nature has amused herself in bestowing the most singular and anomalous forms. For a period of six weeks, Dr Tschudi took up his abode at the port of Huacho, with a view to increase his ichthyological collection. Every morning at five o'clock he rode down to the beach to await the return of the fishermen from their nocturnal expeditions. From as far as they could distinguish him, the Indians would hold up to his notice some strange and newly captured variety of the finny race. He succeeded in getting together many hundred specimens of about a hundred and twenty species of sea and river fish; but ill luck attended this valuable collection. Through the negligence of the people at the port of Callao, a cask of brandy, in which the fish were preserved, was left for months upon the mole in the burning sun, till its contents were completely spoiled. A second cask, in spite of the most careful packing, arrived in Europe, after a fifteen months' voyage, in a similar condition. This, however, was not the only instance, during the doctor's stay in Peru, of the fruits of great industry, and trouble, and heavy expense, being snatched from him by untoward accidents. But nothing seems to have discouraged a man actuated by a sincere love of science and thirst for information, and possessed, as is made manifest by many parts of his modest and unegotistical narrative, of great determination and perseverance. Steadily he continued his researches, in defiance of difficulties and sufferings that would have driven ordinary men over and over again on board the first ship sailing for Europe.

We have as yet scarcely referred to those portions of the volume dedicated to natural history, although the doctor rarely dismisses a province or district without giving a brief but interesting account of its most remarkable animals, fruits, and plants. His description of some of these is very curious. Amongst others, he tells us of a small bird called the cheucau, (Pteroptochus rubecula Kittl,) in connexion with which the people of Chiloë, of which island it is a native, entertain a host of superstitious fancies, foretelling good or bad luck according to the various modulations of its song. "I was one day," says the doctor, "out shooting with an Indian guide, when we came upon one of these birds, sitting on a bush and piping out a shrill huit-huit-ru. I had already taken aim at it, when my companion seized my arm, and begged me not to shoot it, for that it was singing its unlucky note. Wishing to obtain a specimen, I disregarded his entreaty and fired. I had leaned my gun against a tree, and was examining the little bird, when a vicious mule, irritated probably by the report, came charging down upon us, so that we had only just time to run behind a hedge in order to escape his attack. Before we could find means to drive the enraged animal away, he had thrown down my gun, bitten it furiously, and stamped on it with his fore-feet. The Indian gravely said that it would be well if no worse came of it, for that he had told me the bird was whistling bad luck." There is another bird, about the size of a starling, which passes its time, and finds its food, upon the backs of the cattle, and chiefly of horses and jackasses, picking out the insects which there abound. The beasts seem to feel that he is doing them a service, and allow him to walk unmolested over their backs and heads. Of the beasts of prey, the ounce is the most dangerous and bloodthirsty. It attains a very large size, and Dr Tschudi saw the carcass of one that measured eight feet and three inches from the nose to the extremity of the tail. The tail was two feet and eight inches long. It had been killed after a two days' hunt, during which, three negroes had been dangerously wounded by it. Of Peruvian fruits, the most delicious is the chirimoya. It is of a round form, sometimes heart-shaped or pyramidal, its rind thick and tough, of a green colour streaked with black. The inside is snow-white, soft and juicy, with black pips or seeds. Near Lima, they are small and of inferior quality, sometimes not larger than a man's fist; but in the interior, and especially in the province of Huanuco, they attain their full perfection, and often weigh fourteen or sixteen pounds. Their smell is most fragrant, and their delicious flavour, Dr Tschudi says, he can compare to nothing, for it is incomparable.

We perceive, on glancing over what we have written, that we have occupied ourselves chiefly with the lighter portions of this book, and, by so doing, may have given the reader an erroneous idea of its value. Although, as already mentioned, the more important and scientific results of Dr Tschudi's travels are to be found in others of his works, the one before us must not be set down as a mere amusing and ephemeral production. It contains a great deal of curious information, and will be found useful as a book of reference by all who are interested in the commerce, natural history, and general statistics of Peru.

Notwithstanding our endeavours to "go a-head," we have got no further than the conclusion of the first volume. In the second, which is also the final one, the doctor abandons the coast and the city, and penetrates into what may be termed the Peruvian back-woods, amongst the snow-covered Cordilleras and aboriginal forests, the silver mines and Indians. Of what he there saw and heard we shall give an account in our next Number.

LETTERS ON ENGLISH HEXAMETERS

Letter I

Dear Mr Editor – I perceive, by your having requested a second specimen of N.N.T.'s English hexameters, that you feel an interest in the question, whether that form of verse can be successfully employed in our language. Certainly the trial has never yet been made under any moderate advantages. Sidney, and the other Elizabethans, in their attempts, hampered themselves with Latin rules of the value of syllables, which the English ear refuses to recognise, and which drive them into intolerable harshness of expression and pronunciation. Stanihurst's Virgil is so laboriously ridiculous in phraseology, that every thing belonging to it is involved in the ridicule. Southey's Vision is a poem so offensive in its scheme, that no measure could have made it acceptable. Yet the beginning of that poem is, as you, Mr Editor, have remarked, a very happy specimen of this kind of verse; and would, I think, by a common English reader, be admired, independently of classical rules and classical recollections. Now, if we can reach this point, and at the same time give a good English imitation of the Epic mode of narration in Homer, we shall have a better image of Homer in our language than we yet possess. Your contributor appears to me to have advanced a good way towards the execution of this kind of work; and I should be glad if he, or you, would allow me, as a reader of English hexameters, to offer a few remarks on his first book of the Iliad, with a view to point out what appear to me the dangers and difficulties of the task. I do not say any thing of my general admiration of N.N.T.'s version, for mere praise you would hardly think worth its room.