The Aldine, Vol. 5, No. 1., January, 1872

Do thou, as thou art wont, repair
My heart with gladness, and a share
Of thy meek nature!"

    —A.S. Isaacs.

COLERIDGE AS A PLAGIARIST

SOMETHING CHILDISH BUT VERY NATURAL

Written in Germany 1798-99

If I had but two little wings,
And were a little feathery bird,
To you I'd fly, my dear!
But thoughts like these are idle things,
And I stay here.

But in my sleep to you I fly:
I'm always with you in my sleep!
The world is all one's own.
But then one wakes, and where am I?
All, all alone.

Sleep stays not, though a monarch bids,
So I love to wake ere break of day:
For though my sleep be gone,
Yet, while tis dark, one shuts one's lids,
And still dreams on.

Thus much for Coleridge. Now for his original:

"Were I a little bird,
Had I two wings of mine,
I'd fly to my dear;
But that can never be,
So I stay here.

"Though I am far from thee,
Sleeping I'm near to thee,
Talk with my dear;
When I awake again,
I am alone.

"Scarce there's an hour in the night
When sleep does not take its flight,
And I think of thee,
How many thousand times
Thou gav'st thy heart to me."

"This," says Mr. Bayard Taylor, in the Notes to his translation of Faust, "this is an old song of the people of Germany. Herder published it in his Volkslieder, in 1779, but it was no doubt familiar to Goethe in his childhood. The original melody, to which it is still sung, is as simple and sweet as the words."

AMONG THE PERUVIANS

The extremes of civilization and barbarism are nearer together in those countries which the Spaniards have wrested from their native inhabitants, than in any other portion of the globe. Before other European races, aboriginal tribes, even the fiercest, gradually disappear. They hold their own before the descendants of the conquistadores, who conquered the New World only to be conquered by it. Out of Spain the Spaniard deteriorates, and nowhere so much as in South America. Of course he is superior there to the best of the Indian tribes with which he is thrown in contact; but we doubt whether he is superior to the intelligent, but forgotten, races which peopled the regions around him centuries before Pizzaro set foot therein, and which built enormous cities whose ruins have long been overgrown by forests. To compare the Spaniard of to-day, in Peru, with its ancient Incas is to do him no honor. To be sure, he is a good Catholic, which the Incas were not, but he is indolent, enervated, and enslaved by his own passions. His religion has not done much for him—at least in this world, whatever it may do in the next. It has done still less, if that be possible, for the aboriginal Peruvians.

"In all parts of Peru," says a recent traveler, "except amongst the savage Indian tribes, Christianity, at least nominally prevails. The aborigines, however, converted by the sword in the old days of Spanish persecution, do not, as a rule, seem to have more notion of that faith in the country parts, than such as may be obtained from stray visits of some errant, image-bearing friar, whose principal object is to obtain sundry reals in consideration of prayers offered to his little idols. These wandering ministers also distribute execrably colored prints of various saints, besides having indulgences for sale. As to the nature of the pious offerings from their disciples, they are not at all particular. They go upon the easy principle that all is fish that comes into their net. If the ignorant and superstitious givers have not 'filthy lucre' wherewithal to propitiate the ugly represented saints, wax candles, silver ore, cacao, sugar, and any other description of property is as readily received. Thus, it often happens that these peripatetic friars have a long convoy of heavily-laden mules with which to gladden the members of their monastery when they return home.

"The priests in all parts of Peru dress in a very extraordinary, not to say outlandish manner. One of the lower grade wears a very capacious shovel hat, projecting as much in front as behind, and looking very like a double-ended coal-heaver's hat. A loose black serge robe covers him all over, as with a funereal pall, and being fastened together only at the neck, gives to his often obese figure an appearance the very reverse of grave or serious: The superior of a monastery, or the priest in charge of a parish, wears a more stately clerical costume. His hat is of formidable dimensions—a huge, flat, Chinese-umbrella-shaped sort of a concern, which cannot be compared to anything else in creation. He also affects ruffles and lace, a long cassock, and a voluminous cloak like many of those of Geneva combined together; black silk stockings and low shoes complete the clerical array of the higher ecclesiastics."

Quite as odd, in their way, as these good padres, are the Peruvian loungers, the "lions" of Lima—a long-haired, becloaked, truculent-looking set of fellows, whose proper place would seem to be among operatic banditti. A greater contrast and disparity than exists between them and the beautiful brunettes to whom they are fain to devote themselves, cannot well be imagined. That the latter generally prefer European gentlemen to these ill-favored beaux, follows as a matter of course. That the discarded "lion" resents this preference of his fair countrywomen, we have the testimony of the traveler already quoted from.

"Instinctively, as it were, a feeling of dislike and rivalry seemed to prevail between ourselves and such of these truculent gentry as it was our fortune to come into contact with. They were jealous, no doubt, of the wandering foreigners, whom they chose contemptuously to term gringos, but who, they know well enough, are infinitely preferred to themselves by their handsome coquettish countrywomen. It is, indeed, notoriously the fact, that any respectable man of European birth can marry well, and even far above his own social position, amongst the dark-eyed donnas of Peru. The men don't seem exactly to like it. Judging by their appearance, we found but little difficulty in believing the character which report had given them—namely, their proneness to assassination, especially in love affairs, either personally, or, more frequently, by deputy. If the brilliant creole and half-caste women of this warm, tropical country, are some of the most beautiful and lovable of the sex, their sallow, sinister-looking, natural protectors are just the very opposite. The singular difference in the moral and physical characteristics of the two sexes is something really remarkable, and I, for one, cannot satisfactorily explain it to my own mind. That such is the case I venture to affirm; the why and the wherefore I must fain leave to wiser ethnological heads."

Not less curious, as regards costume, are the Peruvian ladies. And, as they are equestriennes, we will describe their riding-habits in the words of the same traveler:

"To commence at the top. This riding dress consisted of a huge felt hat, both tall and broad, and generally ornamented with a plume of three great feathers sticking up in front. Next came an all-round sort of a cape, of no shape in particular, with a wide collar, several rows of fringe, much needle-work (and corresponding waste of time upon so hideous a garment), and of a length sufficient to reach below the waist, and so completely hide and spoil the wearer's generally fine figure. Then came a short overskirt, extending a little below the knees, and beneath which appeared the fair senora or senorita's most unfeminine pantaloons, which, being carefully tied above the ankle in a frill, were allowed to fully display that treasure of treasures, that most valued of charms, the beautiful little foot and ankle. In addition to this absurd dress, which conceals the graceful form of perhaps the handsomest race of women in the world, the fair creatures have a style of riding which, to Europeans accustomed to the side-saddle, certainly seems more peculiar than elegant; that is to say, they ride á la Duchesse de Berri—Anglicè, like a man.

"The full dress, or evening costume, in the provinces, seemed simply an exaggeration upon that of the towns—the crinoline being more extensive, the petticoats shorter, and the dressing of the hair still more wonderful and elaborate."

Among the mestizos, half-castes, of white and Indian origin the women are often very beautiful, especially when the blood of the latter prevails. They are, we are told, the best-looking of all the Peruvian women, possessing brilliantly fair complexions, magnificent long black tresses, lithe and graceful figures of exquisite proportions, regular and classic features, and the most superb great black eyes.

"Though often glorious in youth, these dark-skinned, passionate daughters of the sunny Pacific shore soon begin to fade. Although their scant costume and the manto y saya—the dress favored at night—serve only to expose and display the charming contour of their youthful form, as the years roll on and rob them of these alluring attractions, the simple array becomes ugly and ridiculous. Often did we laugh at the absurd figure presented by some stout, middle-aged half-caste, or a good many more caste, lady, clad in her manto y saya. Especially ludicrous did these staid females appear when viewed from behind."

The Peruvian negress, of elderly years, compares not unfavorably with her whiter Spanish sister of the same age. Both display inordinate vanity, which consorts ill with the brawny calves and large feet they cannot help showing on account of their short though voluminous skirts, and both have a womanly love of jewelry.

"They manifest a very apparent weakness for all sorts of glittering ornaments, especially in the way of numerous rings, huge ear-rings, and mighty necklaces. Indeed, it is not at all uncommon to see pearls (their favorite gem) of great value, rising and falling, and gleaming with incongruous lustre, upon their bare, black, and massive bosoms; whilst ear-rings of solid gold hang glittering from their large ears, in singular contrast to their common and dirty clothing.

"Except for the occasional excitement of theatre, cock-fight, or bull-fight, and the regular attendance at mass and vespers, the life of the higher class Limena is a dreamy existence of languor, amidst siestas, cigarettes, agua-rica, and jasmine perfumes, the tinkling of guitars, and the melody of song. Alas! that I must record it; she is, too, a terrible intriguante. The manto y saya, the bête noir of many a poor jealous husband, seems a garment for disguise, invented on purpose to oblige her. It is the very thing for an intriguing dame; and, by a stringent custom, bears a sacred inviolate right, for no man dare profane it by a touch, although he may even suspect the bright black eye, it may alone allow to be seen, to be that of his own wife! He can follow, if he likes, the graceful, muffled up figure that he dreads to be so familiar, but woe to the wretch who dares to pull aside a fair Limena's manto! If seen, he would surely experience the resentment of the crowd, and become a regular laughing-stock to all who knew him."

But let us be just to the women of Peru, who, in the matter of flirting and fondness for finery, are probably not worse than the sex elsewhere. They love where they love with a fervor unknown to the women of Europe, their Spanish sisters, perhaps, excepted, and they are capable of profound patriotism.

There is an element of real strength in the wild, stormy nature of these beautiful and impassioned creatures: it is their misfortune not to know how to hide their weaknesses as well as their more sophisticated sisters. The tide of time flows so smoothly with them, through such level summer landscapes steeped in tropical repose, that the desire for excitement naturally arises, and excitement itself becomes a necessity. Lacking many of the indoor employments of the women of colder climates, time hangs heavy on their hands, idleness wearies, and they cast about for a way in which to amuse, enjoy, and distract themselves. They find it in love. If no European is near upon whom they can bestow their smiles and the lustre of their magnificent eyes, they have to be content with their own countrymen, who woo them after the fashion of their Spanish ancestors, by serenades at night, in which the strumming of guitars generally plays a more important part than the words it accompanies.

While we are among the Peruvians, we must not entirely overlook their country, and the features of its varied landscapes. It is divided by the Andes into three different lands, so to speak, La Costa, the region between the coast and the Andes; La Sierra, the mountain region, and La Montaña, or the wooded region east of the Andes. La Costa, in which Lima is situated, at the distance of about six miles from the sea, may be briefly described as a sandy desert, interspersed with fertile valleys, and watered by several rivers of no great magnitude. It seldom or never rains there, but there are heavy dews at night which freshen and preserve the vegetation. The magnificence of the mountain region baffles all attempts at word-painting, as it baffles the art of the painter. Church, the artist, gives us what is, perhaps, the best representation we are ever likely to have of it, but it is only a glimpse after all. Still more indescribable, if that be possible, are the enormous wildernesses which stretch from the Andes to the vast pampas to the eastward. "Here everything is on Nature's great scale. The whole country is one continuous forest, which, beginning at very different heights, presents an undulating aspect. One moves on his way with trees before, above, and beneath him, in a deep abyss like the ocean. And in these woods, as on the immensity of the waters, the mind is bewildered; whatever way it directs the eye there it meets the majesty of the Infinite. The marvels of Nature are in these regions so common that one becomes accustomed to behold, without emotion, trees whose tops exceed the height of 100 varas (290 English feet), with a proportionate thickness, beyond the belief of such as never saw them; and, supporting on their trunks a hundred different plants, they, individually, present rather the appearance of a small plantation than one great tree. It is only after you leave the woods, and ordinary objects of comparison present themselves to the mind, that you can realize in thought the colossal stature of these samples of Montana vegetation."

Peru is a fitting theatre for the great dramas which have been played upon its wild, mountainous stage. The dark background of its past is haunted by the shadows of the unknown race who built its ruined cities and temples. Then come the beneficent, heavenly Incas, and the mild, pastoral people over whom they rule. Last, the cruel, treacherous Spaniard, slaughtering his friendly hosts with one hand, while the other holds the Bible to their lips!

THE OLD MAID'S VILLAGE

I had been passing the summer on the banks of the Hudson—in that charmed region which lies about what was once the home of Diedrich Knickerbocker, with the enchanted ground of Sleepy Hollow on the one hand, and the shrine of Sunnyside on the other. In many happy morning walks and peaceful twilight rambles, I had made the acquaintance of every winding lane, every shaded avenue, every bosky dell and sunny glade for miles around. I had wandered hither and thither, through all the golden season, and fairly steeped my soul in the beauty, the languor, the poetry of the "Irving country;" and now, filled, as it were, with rare wine, content and happy, I was ready to return to the town, and take up the matter-of-fact habit of life again.

But even on the last day of my sojourn, when my trunks stood packed and corded, and the loins of my spirit were girt for departure on the morrow; as I stood at my window somewhat pensively contemplating, for the last time, the peculiarly delicious river-bit which it framed, the door opened suddenly, and Nannette, my fidus Achates, and the companion of my summer, ran in.

"Do you know," she cried, "I have just learned that we were about to leave the place without visiting one of its greatest curiosities? We have narrowly escaped going without having seen the 'Old Maid's Village!'"

"The 'Old Maid's Village!'" I echoed, stupidly. "But what village is not the peculiar property of the race?"

"Yes, I know; but this village is really built on an old maid's property, and by her own hands. And there is the 'Cat's Monument,' too. Come! don't stop to talk about it, but let us go and see it. It will be just the thing for a last evening; in memoriam, you know, and all that. Get on your hat, and come, and we shall see the sunset meeting the moonrise on the river once more, as we return."