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Selections from Mary Graham's journals, edited and compiled by Elizabeth Mavor. Includes an account of the Brazilian soldadera, Doña María de Jesús, comments on the Carrera and Cotapos families, San Martín, Lord Cochrane, the Nuns of St Augustine.
Keywords: Mary Graham, Chilean independence, San Martín, Lord Cochrane, Javiera Carrera, Cotapos family, nuns of St Augustine,
Archive: University Library, Cambridge
Location Details: 673:3 c 95 29
Text: Elizabeth Mavor, (ed.), The Captain’s Wife. The South American Journals of Maria Graham 1821-23, Weidenfeld and Nicolson, London, 1993, pp.79, 95, 97, 100, 102-106, 108-115, 120, 123-129, 130, 142-145, 152-165, 167-171.
Extracts from her time in Chile:
28 APRIL 12 JUNE 1822
p.79 23d [May 1822, Valparaiso]
To day, for the first time since I came home, I rode to the port, and had leisure to observe the shops, markets, and wharf, if one may give that name to the platform before the custom house.
The native shops, though very small, appear to me generally cleaner than those of Portuguese America. The silks of China
France, and Italy, the printed cottons of Britain, rosaries, amulets, and glass from Germany generally furnish them. The stuffs of the country are very seldom to be purchased in a shop, because few are made but for domestic consumption
The English shops are more numerous than any. Hardware, pottery, and cotton and woollen cloths, form of course the staple articles. It is amusing to observe the ingenuity with which the Birmingham artists have accommodated themselves to the coarse transatlantic tastes. The framed saints, the tinsel snuff boxes the gaudy furniture, make one smile when contrasted with the decent and elegant simplicity of these things in Europe.
The Germans furnish most of the glass in common use. It is of bad quality to be sure, but it, as well as the little German mirrors, which are chiefly brought to hang, up as votive offerings in the chapels, answers all the purposes of Chileno consumption English tailors, shoemakers, saddlers, and inn keepers, hang out their signs in every street, and the preponderance of the English language over every other spoken in the chief streets would make one fancy Valparaiso a coast town in Britain
The North Americans greatly assist in this, however. Their goods, consisting of common furniture, flour, biscuit, and naval stores, necessarily keep them busier out of doors than any other set of people. The more elegant Parisian or London furniture is generally despatched unopened to Santiago, where the demand for articles of mere luxury is of course greater. The number of piano fortes brought from England is astonishing. There is scarcely a house without one, as the fondness for music is excessive; and many of the young ladies play with skill and taste, though few take the trouble to learn the gamut,* but trust entirely to the ear.
Returning from my shopping, I stopped at the apothecary's (for there is but one), to buy some powder blue, which, to my surprise, I found could only be procured there. I fancy it must resemble an apothecary's of the fourteenth century for it is even more antique looking than those I have seen in Italy or France.
* Scale.
p.95 1 July 1822 [Valparaiso]
San Martin has vulgarly been said to drink: I believe this is not true; but he is an opium eater, and the starts of his passions are so frequent and violent, that no man feels his head safe!.
(A note adds that San Martín took opium as a pain killer.)
p.100 John Miers came to Chile in 1818 to set up copper mills, taking advantage of cheaper materials and labour (copper was half the price of that in England, and labour one quarter of the cost). He brought with him 170 tons of machinery that was "one hundred years too civilized for Chile where men were still digging in their gardens with the blade bone of a sheep tied to a stick in lieu of spades".
p.101 She was invited by Don Jose Antonio de Cotapos to stay with him and his family in Santiago. "They were joined not long after by two carriages containing Madame de Cotapos and her three lovely daughters, all equally pressing." So it was that Maria, who had secretly intended to stay at an English inn in the city in order to be free as she liked, was conducted in triumph to the Casa Cotapos.
p.102
25 August 7 September 1822 [Santiago]
25th August
The house of Cotapos is handsomely, not elegantly, furnished. Good mirrors, handsome carpets, a piano by Broadwood, and a reasonable collection of chairs, tables, and beds, not just of the forms of modern Paris or London, but such, I dare say, as were fashionable there little more than a century ago, look exceedingly well on this side of the Horn.
It is only the dining room that I feel disposed to quarrel with. It is the darkest, dullest, and meanest apartment in the house. The table is stuck in one corner, so that one end and one side only allow room for a row of high chairs between them and the wall, therefore any thing like the regular attendance of servants is precluded. One would almost think that it was arranged for the purpose of eating in secret. And one is led to think, especially when the great gates close at night before the principal meal is presented, of the Moors and the Israelites of the Spanish peninsula, jealously hiding themselves from the eyes of their Gothic tyrants.
My breakfast was served in my own room according to my own fashion, with tea, eggs, and bread and butter. The family eat nothing at this time of day, but some take a cup of chocolate, others a little broth, and most a matee. The ladies all visited me on their way to mass, and on this occasion they had left off their usual French style of dress, and were in black, with the Mantilla and all that makes a pretty Spaniard or Chilena, ten times prettier.
About noon, M. de la Salle, one of the Supreme Director's Aides de Camp called, with a polite compliment from His Excellency,* welcoming me to Santiago. By this gentleman I sent my letters of introduction to Doña Rosa O'Higgins; and it was agreed that I should visit her to morrow evening, as she goes to the theatre tonight....
* Dom Bernardo O’Higgins.
26th
This morning, on looking out soon after day break, I saw the provisions coming into town for the market. The beef cut in (p.103) quarters, the mutton in halves, was mounted on horseback before a man or boy, who, in his poncho, sat as near the tail of the horse as possible. Fowls in large grated chests of hide came slung on mules. Eggs, butter, milk, cheese, and vegetables, all rode, no Chileno condescending to walk, especially with a burden, unless in case of dire necessity. And as the strings of beasts so laden came along one way, I saw women enveloped in their mantos. and carrying their alfombras and missals, going to Mass another.
The cries in the streets are nearly as unintelligible as those in London, and, with the exception of Sweep and Old Clothes, concern the same articles.
Judge Prevost came in soon after breakfast and settled my mode of paying my respects to Doña Rosa O'Higgins in the evening. It appears that to walk even to a next door neighbour on occasions of ceremony is so undignified, that I must not think of it, therefore I go in a chaise belonging to the family where I live, and two of the ladies will accompany me.
This last proposal I own startled me. They are of one of the best families here, but a daughter was married to a Carrera.*
They were all partizans of Carrera, and more than one have been implicated in conspiracies against the present government, nay, it is said against the Director's life. And I know that no intercourse of a friendly nature notwithstanding the good natured wishes of Mr Prevost, has as yet taken place between the palace and the house of Cotapos.
If I am the means of spreading peace, so much the better, though I perhaps would rather know openly the use to be made of me....
We came home to dress for the palace, where we went accompanied by Judge Prevost, Madame Cotapos and her second daughter, Mariquita, a young woman more cultivated than is usual here.
The ladies both apologized for appearing in cotton stockings and coarse black shoes, by saying that it was in consequence of a vow made during a severe illness of the old gentleman, Don José Miguel Cotapos, by which they had obliged themselves to wear such stockings and shoes a whole year, if his life was granted to their prayers.
If I smiled at the superstition of this ' the affection whence it proceeded was too respectable to permit me to laugh, and I was well aware of the extent of the merit of the vow, as there is nothing in which a lady of Chile is so delicate as the choice of her shoes.
* José Miguel Carrera had been the arch rival of O’Higgins in the early fight for Chilean independence.
p.104
Madame Cotapos whispered to me that the torment hers had occasioned was such that she had been obliged to slip a little cotton wool into them to save her feet....
On arriving at the palace, we walked in with less bustle and attendance than I have seen in most private houses. The rooms were handsomely but plainly furnished, English cast iron grates, Scotch carpets, some French china, and timepieces, little or nothing that looked Spanish, still less Chileno.
The Director's mother Doña Isabella, and his sister Doña Rosa, received us not only politely but kindly. The Director's reception was exceedingly flattering both to me and my young friend De Roos. His Excellency had passed several years in England, a great part of which time he spent at an academy at Richmond in Surrey.
He immediately asked me if I had ever been there, enquired after my uncle Mr, now Sir, David Dundas,* and several other persons of my acquaintance, by name, and asked very particularly about his old masters in music and other arts. I was very much pleased with the kindliness of nature shown in these recollections, and still more so when I saw several wild looking little girls come into the room, and run up to him, and cling about his knees, and found they were little orphan Indians rescued from slaughter on the field of battle.
It appears that the Indians, when they make their inroads on the reclaimed grounds, bring their wives and families with them, and should a battle take place and become desperate, the women usually take part in it. Should they lose it, it is not uncommon for the men to put to death their wives and children to prevent them from falling into the hands of the enemy, and indeed till now it was only anticipating, by a few minutes, the fate of these wretched creatures. For quarter was neither given nor taken on either side, the Indians in the Spanish ranks continuing their own war customs in spite of their partial civilization. The Director now gives a reward for all persons, especially women and children, saved on these occasions.
*General Sir David Dundas (1735 1820). Reorganized the British Army along the lines of the Prussian Army.
The children are to be educated and employed hereafter as mediators between their nations and Chile, and, to this end, care is taken that they should not forget their native tongue. The Director was kind enough to talk to them in the Araucanian tongue, that I might hear the language, which is soft and sweet; perhaps it owed something to the young voices of the children.... Doña Rosa (p.105) takes a particular charge of the little female prisoners, and acts the part of a kind mother to them. I was charmed with the humane and generous manner in which she spoke of them.
As to Doña Isabella, she appears to live on her son's fame and greatness, and looks at him with the eyes of maternal love, and gathers every compliment to him with eagerness.
He is modest and simple, and plain in his manners, arrogating nothing to himself, or if he has done much, ascribing it to the influence of that love of country which, as he says, may inspire great feelings into an ordinary man.
He conversed very freely about the state of Chile, and told me he doubted not but that I must be surprised at the backwardness of the country in many things, and particularly mentioned the want of religious toleration, or, rather, the very small measure of it which, considering the general state of things, he had yet been able to grant, without disturbing the public tranquillity. He seemed a little inclined to censure those Protestants who wished prematurely to force upon him the building a chapel, and the public institution of Protestant worship, forgetting how very short a time it is since even private liberty of conscience and a consecrated burial place had been allowed in a country which, within twelve years, had been subject to the Inquisition at Lima.
He spoke a good deal also of the necessity of public education, and told me of the Lancasterian and other schools lately established here, and in other towns in Chile, which are certainly numerous in proportion to the population....
The Director was dressed, as I believe he always is, in his general's uniform. He is short and fat, yet very active, his blue eyes, light hair, and ruddy and rather coarse complexion, do not bely his Irish extraction, while his very small and short hands and feet belong to his Araucanian pedigree.
Doña Isabella is young looking for her years, and very handsome, though small. Her daughter is like the Director, on a larger scale. She was dressed in a scarlet satin spencer and white skirt, a sort of dress much worn here. The Chileno men are an uglier coarser race, as far as I have seen, than the women, who are beautiful, and, what is more, lady like. They have a natural easy politeness, and a caressing manner that is delightful, but then some of their habits are disagreeable.
For instance, a handsome fat lady, who came all in blue satin to the palace to night, had a spitting box brought and set before her, into which she spat continually, and so dexterously, as to show she was well accustomed to the manoeuvre. However, the young (p.106) ladies, and all who would be thought so, are leaving off these ugly habits fast.
At about 10 o’clock we left the palace, and found our young people at home still engaged in their minuets. I sat with them a short time, and then came to my alto to write the journal of this my second day in Santiago, with which I am well pleased!.
p.108 Thursday, Sept. 5th
A large party, consisting of the whole of the Cotapos family, and a number of others, amounting to thirty, including Mr Prevost, Mr De Roos, and myself, spent a day in the country. The ladies who did not ride went in carretons, small covered vehicles of the country, in which they sit on carpets and cushions. The servants and provisions were in another, thatched at the top exactly like a cottage. The whole party was collected in the pateo of the Casa Cotapos, and set off by nine o'clock, as gay as youth, health, and a resolution to be pleased, could make them. I should say us; for, at least in the resolution to be pleased, I equalled the rest.
After a short pleasant ride of about five miles to the eastward, we reached Nuñoa, a pleasant village, where the bishop has a seat, and where, a chacra having been lent us for the purpose, we spent a most agreeable day....
Doña Mariquita and I, with two or three others. among whom was Doña Mariquita's father, Don José Miguel de Cotapos, a most gentlemanlike old man, in his poncho of plain Vicunha wool of the natural colour, and his broad hat, his silver mounted bridle, stirrups, &c., rode off to a casita about two leagues farther on....
On our return to the Nuñoa we found our friends busy dancing to the quita. They had procured two musicians to hire, and were engaged in minuets, and Spanish country dances, perhaps the most graceful in the world. But what most delighted me were the cuando and samba, danced and sung with more spirit than the city manners allow, yet still decorous.
Dancing can express only two passions the hatred of war, and love. Even the grave minuet de la cour will, by its approaching, retiring, presenting of hands, separating, and final meeting, express the latter. How much more the rustic dance that gives the quarrel and reconciliation! This it is which makes dancing a fine art.
The mere figures of dances where more than two are concerned, such as vulgar French or English dances, have as little to do with the poetry of dancing as the inventors of patterns for printed linens have to do with the poetry of painting. My Chilenos feel dancing; and even when they dance a Scotch reel, they contrive to infuse a little of the spirit of the muse into it....
In the evening I undertook to make tea for the dancers, after (p.109) which we rode back to the city as gay a cavalcade as ever entered it, and the day was ended by a tertulla at the Casa Cotapos.
6th September
Visited several persons, English and Chileno. I say nothing of the English here, because I do not know them except as very civil vulgar people, with one or two exceptions.
Mr B., for instance, commonly called Don Diego, he has lived many years here since the revolution, and says he has never met with injustice or unkindness in the country. He knows it better than most persons.
Mr C. has gone through much has I may say been a party in the southern war, lending his money, horses, and ships to the patriot cause, and he, I think, seems to possess the clearest ideas concerning the state of Chile of any man I have met with. And there are several very good people, some acting the fine gentleman, others playing the knave, just as it happens in other places, only I do wish that some more of the better specimens of English were here, for the honour of our nation and the benefit of Chile.
7th
I went early to the national printing office, which is creditable enough to the little state; but the types are very scanty. I doubt if they could print a quarto of four hundred pages.
I bought the gazettes from 1818 to the present time, nothing was printed here before. I also got some laws, rules, and songs. Under the old Spanish government I believe Chile had no press at all, but am not quite sure, nor could I learn. But every thing necessary was printed at Lima, i.e. every thing that the Viceroy, the Archbishop, and the Grand Inquisitor chose to promulgate.
In the afternoon we went to visit the nuns of St Augustin's. Thank God, by the new regulations the convents have all become so poor, that there is good hope the number will soon diminish.
These nuns are old and ugly, with the exception of one, who is young, has sweet eyes, and is very pale, a dangerous beauty for a cavalier. She moved my pity.
The old ladies gave us matee, the best I have tasted, made with milk and Chile cinnamon, and the cup was set in a tray of flowers, so that both taste and smell were gratified. This convent is one of the finest in Chile, having seven quadrangles. We saw through the parlour into one of them, where, in the centre of a pool, there is the (p.110)
ugliest Virgin that man ever cut in stone, intended to spout water from her mouth and breast. But she is now idle, as the fountain is under repair, and the masons, with half a dozen soldiers to guard them or the nuns, were busy round the pool.
During the short time I remained at the grate, I heard more gossip than I have done for months, and perceived that the recluses continue to take a lively interest in the things of this wicked world. I was not sorry when summoned to go to another place, and having left a golden remembrancer with the good ladies, I accompanied Mr Prevost and Mr de Roos to the public library.
p.111
September 8th 1822
I bought my roan horse Fritz. He has white feet, and two blue eyes, is tall and strong, and never carried a woman in his life. But I wanted to give my pet Charles some rest, so thought twenty dollars not too much. Therefore I gave it at once, mounted Fritz without ceremony, and rode to the Director's chacra with Mr de Roos, to pay a forenoon visit. We were not allowed, however, to leave it before dinner. We found the ladies sitting in their garden, with their little Indian girls playing about them....
Fortunately for us there were no strangers but ourselves, and the Director readily led the conversation to the affairs of Chile, and to the events of his own life.
Of the recent affairs in Peru (the displacing Monteagudo,* &c.) he expressed himself with regret, considering that minister's conduct, and the consequences of it, as a stain on the good cause. I wish I had dared to hint, that a conduct as bad, though in a different way, in Rodriguez, his own minister, was producing effects at least as vexatious here.
We walked a good deal about the gardens, and amused ourselves for some time with a fine telescope, through which the Director pointed out to me many farms on the plain of Maypu, in the line of the canal of irrigation which he has made since he was Director, where all was formerly barren, and behind whose thickets robbers and murderers concealed themselves, so that the roads were unsafe. These ruffians have now disappeared, and peaceful farms occupy the ground.
From the garden we went in to dinner, where all was plain and handsome. English neatness gave the Chileno dishes every thing I had ever thought wanting in them. Doña Isabella, Doña Rosa, Doña Xaviera the Director's niece a beautiful young woman, and one aide de camp, besides ourselves, formed the whole party.
The little Indians had a low table in the corner. where the little daughter of the Cacique ** presided, and where they were served with as much respect as Doña Rosa herself.
* General San Martin's unpopular right hand man.
** Political boss, i.e. the Director.
p.112
The entrance of some strangers after dinner put an end to all confidential intercourse, and I then walked about the house with Doña Isabella. The ladies' bed rooms are neat and comfortable in every way. The Director, when here, sleeps on a little portable camp bed, and to judge by his room, is not very studious of personal accommodation.
At sunset we returned to town, and at the same time His Excellency's family went thither also to attend the opera, which Doña Rosa never misses. Their equipage is English, and though plain, handsome.
Another expedition had already been planned. This time a nine hour ride over the Maypu plain to visit the ranch of the eldest married Cotapos daughter, Ana Maria.
There were four in the party with Maria: a Cotapos son and Don José Antonio and his sister, Doña Rosario, besides the irreplaceable Mr de Roos. Maria's unsatisfactory maid appears not to have been of the party.
The Cotapos daughter, it transpired, had been married to one of the famous Carrera brothers, an interesting circumstance, which appears to have inspired a surge of romanticism in Maria. On their arrival at the hacienda she stood entranced as her hostess approached, 'She has one of the most beautiful faces I ever beheld:' she wrote 'an eye both to entreat and command; and a mouth which neither painter or sculptor, in his imagined Hebes or Graces, could equal.*
Four nights were to be spent at the hacienda, which was extremely comfortable, the hostess thoughtfully providing Maria and Mr de Roos with an English breakfast of eggs and bread and butter, rather than the more robust Chilean version of soup, meat and wine.
Maria, as was her custom, rose early. A useful habit she tells us since ‘it anticipated intrusion, the privacy of bedrooms is not respected in Chile as in England’.**
She spent her time inspecting the estate; noted the roots of the vines were not trimmed annually as in Italy, but only once every twenty or thirty years; visited the dairy, which in her opinion was being wastefully conducted; saw a curious sheep with five horns; tasted the local wine, very pleasant, the brandy especially good.
That evening she sketched while a guest played the guitar and sang gaucho songs. These Maria later wrote down, though to her mind the words were about as significant as 'Hey diddle diddle'.
* Chile, p.241.
** Chile, p.242.
Next day they rode out over fallen aromatic leaves to Lake Aculeo, which reminded her of the Lago Maggiore. She tasted the water, made a sketch, and afterwards they rode home in the twilight to be met at the door by her host with two guests, one of them peculiarly arresting by reason of his (p.113) extraordinary beauty. Unfortunately, Maria was told, he was a tonto mentally deficient.
‘It made me quite melancholy’,* she wrote, and when she eventually went to bed was unable to sleep for thinking of him.
Due perhaps to the young man's presence, a melancholy seems to have overcome the house party. They spent the last day with a picnic overlooking a ravishing view, drinking maté out of silver cups, and listening to the tragic story of their hostess, Doña Ana. Convents, intrigues, imprisonment, secret cyphers, love and death by the time Maria returned to the hacienda she was in a mood to respond to a drama that seemed straight out of her favourite Byron's Manfred.
She settled down to draw. As before, the tonto was present, only this time Maria thought she noticed an occasional flash of intelligence brighten his eye. Convinced by now that he was in some way a tragic victim of the civil war, she casually mentioned that the Director had promised to consider an amnesty for anyone caught up in the politics of the revolution.
'There was something in the faces of all that induced me to repeat this distinctly again,' she records. At this moment she observed the tonto whispering something to Doña Ana.
'And why should not you, who live in the country and have your farm, be happy as all of us?' she asked him boldly.
'I happy with farms and peons, and cattle! No!´ he cried, 'for years I was wretched, and the first moment of happiness I owe to you!'
'Indeed! then you are not what you seem?' asked Maria.
At this the erstwhile tonto rose, his eye flashing fire.
'No, I will no longer play this fool's part; it is unworthy the son of Xabiera, the nephew of José Miguel Carrera!' the tonto cried passionately. ´I am that unhappy exile Lastra, reduced to fly from desert to desert, to hide me in caves, and to feed with the fowls of the air, till my limbs are palsied and my youth is wasted; and my crime has been to love Chile. Oh, my country! What would I not suffer for thee!**
Maria who for whatever reason had self confessedly remained immoveable throughout this outburst now rose.
I gave him my hand, and desired he would come to see me in Santiago, like himself [presumably in his right mind] after the 18th. 'This,' commented Maria complacently, 'restored us to our ordinary state of cheerfulness.’ ***
* Chile, p.248.
** Chile, p253
*** Chile, p.254.
The morning of the 13th (marked 11th in the journal, owing perhaps to anxiety), Doña Rosario, her brother, Mr de Roos and Maria set off for Melipilla.
Their send off was suitably eerie, and in accordance with the events of the previous evening. Dense fog shut out the mountains, anti it was drizzling. By the time they drew rein at the famous estate of the Marques la (p.114) Rayna, however, the sky was clearing, and Maria had regained her sang froid.
Having been shown round the estate with all its offices, including the slaughterhouses, she mused for much of the remainder of the eighty mile ride on how wasteful the butchery arrangements of Chile were heads, bones, hearts, livers, all profligately thrown away, likewise horns, hoofs and, again, bones utterly wasted. . . .
They reached Melipilla as night was falling, found a good house (roast beef, stewed fowl, good bread, and a bottle of very tolerable wine) and soon retired.
'The beds appeared to embarrass Mr de Roos more than anything,' wrote Maria, 'but I am an old traveller, and our Chileno friends are used to this sort of thing; so my young Englishman made up his mind to our all passing the night within the same four walls.'*
As a concession to Mr de Roos's sensibility however she spread the long skirt of her riding habit over a line of high backed chairs, thus separating the ladies from the gentlemen, after which they slept soundly till morning.
15th September
This morning Doña Rosario and her brother went to early Mass, while Mr de Roos and I prepared all things for beginning our journey back to Santiago.... We had no intention this day of going farther than San Francisco de Monte, where there is a tolerable house for travellers, kept by an old servant of a relation of the Cotapos.
As soon as we arrived there, the gentlemen rode off to visit a relation of our companions, while Doña Rosario and I remained to perform rather a more careful toilette than we had been able to do at Melipilla.
The house we were in is, in all senses, a pulperia, combining the characters of a huckster's shop and an alehouse. The host has some Indian and some African blood in his veins, and is a shrewd ingenious man. He has set up a proper loom for weaving ponchos, by which means he produces more work in a week than the weavers of Melipilla in a month. His wife spins and dyes the wool, and by this trade, and the profits of their shop, they earn a very decent livelihood.
As soon as I had changed my dress I went out to walk round the little town, which I found laid out with great neatness, and admired the gardens and fields, though I could perceive that San Francisco had once boasted inhabitants of a higher class than those I saw. The best houses are shut up, and there was an air of decay in
* Chile, p.254.
p.115
their immediate neighbourhood. They did belong to the Carreras. The heiress, Doña Xaviera, is now living as an exile at Monte Video.
I went towards the Plaça, where there are the church and convent of the Franciscans, and several extremely good houses. I was attracted by a great crowd at the door of one of these. The mounted guasos were standing by with their hats off, and every body seemed as if performing an act of devotion. I was a little astonished when I arrived at the centre of the crowd, to which every body made way for me, to find nine persons dancing, as the Spaniards say, con mucho compas.
They were arranged like nine pins, the centre one being a young boy dressed in a grotesque manner, who only changed his place occasionally with two others, one of whom had a guitar, the other a ravel. The height and size of limb of the dancers might have belonged to men, the apparel was female, and I thought I had been suddenly introduced to a tribe of Patagonian women, and enquired of a bystander whence they came, when I received the following information concerning the dancers and the dance.
When the Franciscans first began the conversion of the Indians in this part of Chile, they fixed their convent at Talagante, the village of the palms which we passed through the other day, their proselytes being the caciques of Talagante, Yupeo, and Chenigue. The good fathers found that the Indians were more easily brought over to a new faith, than weaned from certain superstitious practices belonging to their old idolatry, and the annual dance under the shade of the cinnamon, in honour of a preserving Power, they found it impossible to make them forget. They therefore permitted them to continue it, but it was to be performed within the convent walls, and in honour of Nuestra Señhora de la Merced, and each cacique in turn was to take upon him the expense of the feast.
On the removal of the convent to its present station the dance was allowed in the church, and the dancers, instead of painted bodies, and heads crowned with feathers, and bound with the fillet (still thought holy), are now clothed completely in women's dresses, as fine as they can procure. And as the priests have much abridged the period of the solemnity, they are fain to finish their dance in the area before the church, where they are attended with as much deference as in the temple itself. After having performed this duty, the dancers, and as many as choose to accompany them, repair to the Cacique's house, where they are treated with all the food he can command, and drink till his stock of chicha is exhausted.
p.116
I considered myself very fortunate in having met with these dancers, and pleased myself with the idea that they were the descendants of the Promaucians, who had resisted the Incas in their endeavours to subdue the country, and who, after bravely disputing its possession with the Spaniards, being once induced to make a league with them never deserted them.
I was lucky too in the person to whom I applied for information. He is a deformed, but sprightly looking man, who acts the double part of schoolmaster and gracioso of the village. While we sat at dinner to day he entered to pay his compliments, and began a long extempore compliment to each of us in verse, in a manner at least as good as that of the common improvisatori of Italy.
For this I paid him with a cup of wine, when he began to recite the collection of legendary and other verses, till, heated I presume by the glasses handed to him by our young men, his tales began to stray so far from decorum that we silenced the old gentleman, and sent him to get a good dinner with the peons….
p.119 Nothing can be more truly kind than Doña Carmen de Cotapos and all her daughters, since I first became their guest, and especially since my illness. Mr Prevost too has been unwearied in his friendly attentions, but what can I say of my good and skillful physician Dr Craig, that can acknowledge my obligations sufficiently? As to my own sea friends, their affectionate care is only what I depended on!.
p.120 24th September [1822, journey from Santiago de Chile]
... It was not without regret that I left Santiago, where I have been so kindly received, and where there is still much new and interesting to see. I do hope to return in summer, when I mean to cross the mountain by the Cumbre pass, visit Mendoza, and return by the pass of San Juan de los Patos by which the great body of San Martin's army entered the country in 1816.
However, in the meantime I must gain a little more health, and a great deal more strength. I am scarcely sorry that I was obliged to travel in a caleche for once. All our party assembled after passing the toll house, and other necessary ceremonies at the house of Loyola, the owner of the caleche, about a league from Santiago, on the plain called the Llomas. Sick as I felt, I could not help laughing at the 'set out'.
In the first place, there was the calisa, a very light square body of a carriage, mounted on a coarse heavy axle, and two clumsy wheels painted red, while the body is sprigged and flowered like a furniture chintz, lined with old yellow and red Chinese silk, without glasses, but having striped gingham curtains. Between the shafts, of the size and shape of those of a dung cart, was a fine mule, not without silver studs among her trappings, mounted by a handsome lad in a poncho, and armed with spurs whose rowels were bigger than a dollar, and with a little straw hat stuck on one side. On each side of the mule was a horse, fastened to the axle of the wheel, each with his rider, also in full Chile costume.
Then there was Loyola's son as a guide, handsomely dressed in a full guaso dress, mounted on a fine horse, with him Mr Dance and Mr Candler, of the Doris, also in the same dress, my young friend de Roos having left us some days before on the expiration of his leave of absence. Last, though by no means least, in his own esteem, was my peon Felipe, with his three mules and the baggage, accompanied by another peon with the relay horses for the calisa....
p.123
13th October 1822 [Valparaiso]
Every one has been electrified to day by the sudden arrival of General San Martin, the Protector of Peru, in this port.
Since the forcible expulsion of his minister and favourite, Monteagudo,* from office by the people of Lima, ** while he himself was absent visiting Bolívar at Guayaquil, he had felt some alarm concerning his own security, and had, it is believed, from time to time deposited considerable sums on board of the Puyrredon, in case of the worst.
* He was blamed for the persecution of colonial Spaniards in Lima.
** 25 July 1822.
At length, at midnight on the 20th September, he embarked, and ordered the captain to get under weigh instantly, although the vessel was not half manned, and had scarcely any water on board. He then ran down to Ancon, whence he despatched a messenger to Lima, and his impatience could scarcely brook the necessary delay before an answer could arrive, when it did come, he ordered the captain instantly to sail for Valparaiso, and now gives out here, that a rheumatic pain in one of his arms obliges him to have recourse to the baths of Cauquenes. If true, "tis strange, 'tis passing strange.'
p.124
14th
Reports arrive this morning that San Martin has been arrested, and that having endeavoured to smuggle a quantity of gold, it is seized.
Noon
So far from San Martin being arrested, two of the Director's aides-de camp have arrived to pay him compliments besides, the fort saluted his flag.
Many persons, knowing Lord Cochrane's sentiments with regard to the General, and that he looks on him both as a traitor to Chile and a dishonest man, made little doubt but that His Lordship would arrest him. Had he done so, I think the government would have gladly acquiesced. But the uprightness and delicacy of Lord Cochrane's feelings have induced him to leave him to the government itself.
Night
The Director's carriage is arrived to convey San Martin to the city, General Priete and Major O'Carrol are also in attendance, and there are four orderlies appointed, who are never to lose sight of him. Some think by way of keeping him in honourable arrest, others, and I am inclined to be of the number, that real or affected fear for his life, while in the port, occasions the constant attendance of such a train.
The General himself persists in saying that his visit to Chile is solely on account of his rheumatic arm, and at first sight it seems hard not to allow a man credit for knowing the motives of his own actions. But one of the penalties of conspicuous station is to be judged by others....
15th of October
After a very busy day spent in seeing and taking leave of my friends of the Doris, who are to sail to morrow, I was surprised, just as I had taken leave of the last, at being told that a great company was approaching.
I had scarcely time to look up before I perceived Zenteno, the governor of Valparaiso, ushering in a very tall fine looking man, dressed in plain black clothes, whom he announced as General San Martin. They were followed by Madame Zenteno and her stepdaughter, Doña Dolores, Colonel D'Albe and his wife and sister, General Priete, Major O'Carrol, Captain Torres, who I believe is captain of the port here, and two other gentlemen whom I do not know.
p.125
It was not easy to arrange the seats of such a company in a room scarcely sixteen feet square, and lumbered with books and other things necessary to the comfort of an European woman. At length, however, my occupation of much serving being over, I could sit, and observe, and listen.
San Martin's eye has a pecularity in it that I never saw before but once, and that was in the head of a celebrated lady.
It is dark and fine, but restless, it never seemed to fix for above a moment, but that moment expressed every thing. His countenance is decidedly handsome, sparkling, and intelligent, but not open. His manner of speaking quick, but often obscure, with a few tricks and by words, but a great flow of language, and a readiness to talk on all subjects.
I am not fond of recording even the topics of private conversation, which I think ought always to be sacred. But San Martin is not a private man, and besides, the subjects were general, not personal.
We spoke of government, and there I think his ideas are far from being either clear or decisive. There seems a timidity of intellect, which prevents the daring to give freedom and the daring to be despotic alike. The wish to enjoy the reputation of a liberator and the will to be a tyrant are strangely contrasted in his discourse. He has not read much, nor is his genius of that stamp that can go alone. Accordingly, he continually quoted authors whom he evidently knew but by halves, and of the half he knew he appeared to me to mistake the spirit.
When we spoke of religion, and Zenteno joined in the discourse, he talked much of philosophy, and both those gentlemen seemed to think that philosophy consisted in leaving religion to the priests and to the vulgar, as a state machine, while the wise man would laugh alike at the monk, the protestant, and the deist. Well does Bacon say, 'None deny there is a God but those for whom it maketh that there were no God' and truly, when I consider his actions, I feel that he should be an atheist if he would avoid despair.
But I am probably too severe on San Martin. His natural shrewd sense must have led him to perceive the absurdity of the Roman Catholic superstitions, which here are naked in their ugliness, not glossed over with the pomp and elegance of Italy, and which from state policy he has often joined in with all outward demonstrations of respect.
It has been observed, that 'The Roman Catholic system is shaken off with much greater difficulty than those which are taught in the reformed churches, but when it loses its hold of the mind, it much (p.126) more frequently prepares the way for unlimited scepticism.' And this appears to me to be exactly the state of San Martin's mind. From religion, and the changes it has undergone from corruptions and from reformations, the transition was easy to political revolutions.
The reading of all South American reformers is mostly in a French channel, and the age of Louis xiv was talked of as the direct and only cause of the French revolution, and consequently of those in South America. A slight compliment was thrown in to King William* before I had ventured to observe, that perhaps the former evils and present good of these countries might in part be traced to the wars of Charles V ** and his successor, draining these provinces of money, and returning nothing....
* William III (1650 1702) King of England.
** Emperor Charles V (1500 58) Hapsburg Emperor.
I was glad of the interruption afforded by the entrance of tea to this somewhat pedantic discourse, which I never should have made a note of but that it was San Martin's. I apologized for having no matee to offer, but I found that both the General and Zenteno drank tea without milk, with their segars in preference.
But the interruption even of tea, stopped San Martin but for a short time. Resuming the discourse, he talked of physic, of language, of climate, of diseases, and that not delicately, and lastly, of antiquities, especially those of Peru, and told some very marvellous stories of the perfect preservation of some whole families of ancient Caciques and Incas who had buried themselves alive on the Spanish invasion. This brought us to far the most interesting part of his discourse his own leaving Lima.
He told me, that, resolved to know whether the people were really happy, he used to disguise himself in a common dress' and, like the caliph Haroun Alraschid, to mingle in the coffee-houses, and in the gossiping parties at the shop doors, that he often heard himself spoken of, and gave me to understand, that he had found that the people were now happy enough to do without him.
He said that, after the active life he had led, he began to wish for rest, that he had withdrawn from public life, satisfied that his part was accomplished, and that he had only brought with him the flag of Pizarro.
This was the banner under which the empire of the Incas had been conquered, and which had been displayed in every war, not only those between the Spaniards and Peruvians, but those of the rival Spanish chiefs.
p.127
Its possession,' said he, 'has always been considered the mark of power and authority, I HAVE IT NOW, and he drew himself up to his full height, and looked round him with a most imperial air.
Nothing so characteristic as this passed during the whole four hours the Protector remained with me. It was the only moment in which he was himself The rest was partly an habitual talking on all subjects, to dazzle the less understanding, and partly the impatience to be first, even in common conversation, which his long habit of command has given him.
I pass over the compliments he paid me, somewhat too profusely for the occasion, but of such we may say, as Johnson did of affectation, that they are excusable, because they proceed from the laudable desire of pleasing.
Indeed, his whole manner was most courteous. I could not but observe, that his movements as well. as his person are graceful, and I can well believe what I have heard, that in a ball room he has few superiors.
Of the other persons present, Colonel d'Albe and the ladies only volunteered a few words. It was with difficulty that, in my endeavours to be polite to all, I forced a syllable now and then from the other gentlemen. They seemed as if afraid to commit themselves, so at length I left them alone, and the whole discourse soon fell into the Protector's hands.
Upon the whole, the visit of this evening has not impressed me much in favour of San Martin. His views are narrow, and I think selfish. His philosophy, as he calls it, and his religion, are upon a par, both are too openly used as mere masks to impose on the world, and, indeed, they are so worn as that they would not impose on any people but those he has unhappily had to rule.
He certainly has no genius, but he has some talents, with no learning, and little general knowledge. Of that little, however, he has the dexterity to make a great deal of use, nobody possesses more of that most useful talent, Tart de se faire valoir'.
His fine person, his air of superiority, and that suavity of manner which has so long enabled him to lead others, give him very decided advantages. He understands English, and speaks French tolerably, and I know no person with whom it might be pleasanter to pass half an hour, but the want of heart, and the want of candour, which are evident even in conversation of any length, would never do for intimacy, far less for friendship.
p.128
At nine o'clock the party left me, much pleased certainly at having seen one of the most remarkable men in South America, and I think that, perhaps, in the time, I saw as much of him as was possible. He aims at universality, in imitation of Napoleon, who had, I have heard, something of that weakness, and whom he is always talking of as his model, or rather rival. I think too that: he had a mind to exhibit himself to me as a stranger, or Zenteno might have suggested, that: even the little additional fame that my report of him could give was worth the trouble of seeking. The fact certainly is, that he did talk to night for display....
17th
Mr Clarke called on his way to the city, and brought me San Martin's farewell to Peru. It is as follows:
"I have been present at the declaration of the independence of the states of Chile and of Peru. The standard which Pizarro brought hither to enslave the empire of the Incas is in my power. I have ceased to be a public man: thus I am rewarded with usury for ten years of revolution and war.
My promises to the countries where I have made war are fulfilled, to make them independent, and to leave them to the free choice of their government.
The presence of a fortunate soldier (however disinterested I may be) is terrible to newly constituted states; and besides, I am shocked at hearing it said that I desire to make myself a sovereign. Nevertheless, I shall always be ready to make the last sacrifice for the liberty of the country; but in the rank of a simple individual, and no other.
As to my public conduct, my countrymen, as in most things, will be divided in their opinions: their posterity will pronounce a true sentence.
Peruvians! I leave you an established national representation: if you repose entire confidence in it, sing your song of triumph; if not, anarchy will devour you.
May prudence preside over your destinies; and may these crown you with happiness and peace!
JOSE DE SAN MARTIN
Pueblo Libro Sept. 20th, 1822."
lf there be any thing real in this, if he really retires and troubles the world no more, he will merit at least such praise as was bestowed on
The Roman, when his burning heart
Was slaked with blood of Rome,
(p.129)
Threw down his dagger, dared depart
In savage grandeur home:
He dared depart in utter scorn
Of men that such a yoke had borne.
For indeed he has not 'held his faculties meekly'; but yet he has done something for the good cause; and oh! had the means been righteous as the cause, he would have been the very first of his countrymen: but there is blood on his hands; there is the charge of treachery on his heart.
16th
He is this day gone to Cauquenes, and has left the port not one whit enlightened as to the cause of his leaving Peru. It is probably like the retirement of Monteagudo, a sacrifice of his political existence in order to save his natural life.
I think Lord Cochrane went either to day or yesterday to Quintero. The Valparaiso world would have rejoiced in some meeting, some scene, between him and San Martin, but his good sense, and truly honourable feelings towards the country he serves, have prevented this.
lf San Martin is unfortunate, and forced to fly his dominion, His Lordship's conduct is magnanimous, if it be only a ruse de guerre on San Martin's part to save himself, it is prudent, and will leave him at liberty to expose the Protector as he deserves....
p.130
Sunday, November 3d
This evening, at about nine o'clock, the Director came quietly to the port. It is said he is come to see the squadron paid. Some assert that he is come in order not immediately to meet San Martin, who, having bathed at Cauquenes, is about to move into the city, and is to take up his residence in the directorial palace, only, however, as a private visitor. He is to have a double guard, but if he is, as it is said, so beloved, why should he fear? I suspect that, like other opium eaters, he is become nervous.
I trust, for the honour of human nature, that an opinion which I have heard concerning the Director's appearance in the port, is unfounded. It is, that he is come hither in order to seize an opportunity of getting possession of Lord Cochrane's person, that is, to sacrifice him to the revenge of San Martin in compliance with the entreaties forwarded from Peru, by the agents Paroissien* and Del Rio.
* It was Paroissien who had filed complaints against Lord Cochrane for the Chilean government.
p.142
Tuesday, 10th December [Valparaiso]
While sitting at dinner with Lord Cochrane, Messrs Jackson, Bennet, and Orelle, we were startled by the longest and severest shock since the first great earthquake of the 19th November.
Some ran out of the house (for we now inhabit a part of it), and I flew to poor Glennie's bed side. It had brought on severe hemorrhage, which I stopped with laudanum. Soon afterwards we had a slighter shock, and again at half past three a severe one. The wind was most violent, the thermometer at 65o . . .
p.144 January 3d 1823
I like this wild life we are living, half in the open air. Every thing is an incident, and as we never know who is to come, or what is to happen next, we have the constant stimulus of curiosity to bear us to the end of every day.
The evening walk is the only thing we are sure of. Sometimes we trace the effects of the recent earthquake, and fancy they lead to marks of others infinitely more violent, and at periods long anterior to our knowledge. Often we have little other object than the mere pleasure of the earth, and air, and sky. Sometimes we go to the garden, where every thing is thriving beyond all hope. And (p.145) we are busy collecting seeds of the wild plants of the country, though it is too early in the season to find many ripe.
5th
We have again lost the Admiral for a few days. The press is removed to my tent, where we are more free to work at all hours, without interrupting business or being interrupted by it
10th
Lord Cochrane returned to us in the Montezuma. Every thing is finally settled as to our departure. The brig Colonel Allen is to come to Quintero, where we are all to embark, and in less than a week we expect to be under weigh.
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