Part 3

Many of the houses occupy a large extent of ground. The _sala_ is the principal room. The roofs of the houses, denominated the _azotea_, are very pleasant, especially near the river; and the party-walls are so low, that a person can traverse whole streets upon the house-tops. The inhabitants do not fear robberies, relying upon the strength of their doors, iron-barred windows, and barking dogs: of the latter, two or three are in a house. The bars in the window fronts are an excellent contrivance, and quite necessary, in a climate requiring so much air, and likewise for security, the street windows being close to the foot-path, and no areas to protect them. They report that this fashion is a remnant of Spanish jealousy; at any rate, it does their invention credit. Many of the mansions are specimens of Moorish architecture; those belonging to the richer class are splendidly furnished with carpets, handsome mirrors, &c. So little wood is used in building, there is no fear of fire. Extensive houses, formerly occupied by the first families of the country, are now tenanted by British merchants; and the salas that were once graced by beauty, music, and the dance, are now stored with dry goods, and nothing is heard but the hum of business.

House rent is very high: for a moderate-sized house, from 60 to 80 dollars per month.

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CHURCHES.--In Catholic countries, the attention of the Protestant traveller is ever attracted towards the churches. Their gorgeous decorations, music, dress of the priesthood, &c. form so great a contrast to the simplicity of the reformed religion, that we gaze, as if viewing the splendid scenery of some theatrical spectacle, and, for the moment, cease to be astonished at the influence which this imposing church has exercised, and still continues to exercise, over a great portion of the Christian world. If the Spaniards in Europe are supposed to surpass all other Catholic nations in their strict adherence to the rights and ceremonies of "holy church," they have not neglected to transplant to South America this formidable engine of power. The charms of its music, and its general magnificence, must have bewildered the imagination of the natives, and insured to the Spaniards complete authority.

I have visited most of the churches of Buenos Ayres, with feelings I can scarcely describe. My mind was ever strongly imbued with recollections of those youthful readings of monastic institutions, of cowled monks and nuns, which, in our Protestant land, we only read of; but to have the reality before me, absorbed every faculty--I gave a loose to fancy--every thought was engaged.

I believe the following to be a tolerably correct list of the churches and chapels in Buenos Ayres:--

The Cathedral. St. Francisco. St. Domingo. St. Ignatio, or College Church. St. Catalina (Convent of Nuns). St. Juan (ditto). St. Nicholas. St. Miguel. Residencia. Montserrat. La Merced. La Conception. Loccaro. Recolator. La Piedad.

_Chapels._ St. Lucia. St. Roque. Hospital.

The Cathedral is a large domed building, built of brick, as indeed they all are. Its outside presents nothing particular, with the exception of its loftiness; and, in common with the rest, it has crosses placed upon every prominent part. A new front is building towards the Plaza; but it gets on very slowly, the scaffolding being so very expensive. The interior is lofty and spacious; it is ornamented with figures of the Virgin Mary and the infant Jesus, in glittering attire. Jesus on the cross, and saints in strict costume, occupy places at the different altars. Flowers, artificial and real, are plentifully bestowed, and relics are strewed in all directions, informing the foreigner that he is in a land where Catholicism once existed in all its pristine grandeur. These emblems of peace, in the body of the church, are shaded by those of war from above. Suspended from the ceiling are about twenty flags, taken from the Spaniards on various occasions, as at Monte Video, Maypu, &c. _Fernando VII._ is inscribed upon most of them. The grand altar is adorned with costly gems; and when the large and numerous candles are lighted, the effect is grand. The organ and choir are good: the tones of the former vibrating through the aisles, and the kneeling females in black attire, make an impression of no ordinary nature. The government and municipal authorities attend at the Cathedral on state and feast days, forming processions to and from the church. The Sunday mass, about twelve o'clock, is attended by most of the fashion and beauty of the town.

Of the churches, that of St. Francisco seems most profusely ornamented. Virgins and saints of all descriptions occupy every altar and nook of the interior, clothed in rich and fanciful attire, which the devotion of the faithful has bestowed. The grand altar is very brilliant; and when fully lighted, it appears a sheet of gold. Some of the ornaments, I should think, are valuable. This edifice is of considerable length, and contains twenty friars of the order of St. Francisco, the only community of the sort now existing in Buenos Ayres. The towers are paved with tiling, which, at a distance, looks like marble. St. Francisco's church is my favourite, for, child-like, I am attracted by glitter.

The College church is one I rarely visit, from prejudice or revenge at an insult offered to me by one of the servants, who told me Englishmen had no business there, and absolutely took my arm to conduct me out. In any other place I should have chastised him.--It is a gloomy structure, both outside and inside, even with the usual decorations. The Holy Ghost proceeds on its different missions from this church.

St. Domingo church is large, with a spacious dome. It had, until the suppression, in 1822, forty-eight friars of the Dominican order; amongst whom was an Irish priest, Father Burke, who, from motives of kindness, is still allowed to occupy his apartment. He is more than 70 years of age, and much esteemed by the British as well as natives, being divested of those prejudices which so often disgrace his cloth. The rooms of the friars, and the garden, make it a comfortable retreat. The interior of St. Domingo is light and airy, without much decoration; but it contains objects that swell the beating hearts of Englishmen--British standards ranged around the dome, the trophies of Beresford's and Whitelock's expeditions. Crawford, with part of his division, it will be recollected, took refuge in this church. I have viewed those flags with the most painful recollections, obtained, as they were, not in open fight, but by concealed and inaccessible enemies; and have felt for the fate of my unhappy countrymen, slaughtered, without an opportunity to retaliate, by those who could not have stood one half-hour before them in a fair field of battle. This city is almost the only one in the world that can boast the possession of such prizes.

The church of Le Merced is a very pretty building, with a dome and tower. The interior is compact, and, in splendour, very little inferior to St. Francisco; containing virgins, Madonas, holy pictures, &c. &c. in gorgeous abundance, with the usual quantity of confessional boxes. It is much resorted to. Until lately, it held forty-five friars, of the order of Le Merced; a peculiar order, allowing its professors, it is said, to wear concealed arms. One of the regiments attends divine service, and their band performs, in this church.

The description of one may be said to include a description of all the churches, as they partake of the same general character, excepting only that some are more splendid than others. No impediment is offered to the admission of foreigners into these sacred buildings; and they may roam about _ad libitum_. The obstruction I received in the College church, I am persuaded, was the unauthorized act of the fellow who offered it. To avoid singularity, it is best to conform to their mode of devotion. The eye of curiosity will, now and then, be directed towards a stranger; but this is to be expected, though some gentlemen express a repugnance to visit their churches for that reason, and a fear of intruding.

The churches, with the buildings attached, gardens, &c. occupy a great extent of ground; particularly those of St. Juan and Catalina, which were erected at a time when religious enthusiasm was at its height.

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The THEATRE, as an edifice, has nothing to boast. The exterior looks like a stable; but the interior is better than the outside promises. It has been much improved since my arrival. They sadly want a new theatre. There is a plot of ground near the Plaza just adapted for it: but unless the government take it in hand, the public spirit of individuals, I fear, will not; and yet, with a people so theatrically inclined, it is somewhat surprising. Almost the first inquiry of a foreigner is of the Theatre: at present, they smile at its insignificance.

The pit is large, extending a considerable length from the stage, with backs to the seats, and partitions to each, which serve as a rest for the arms: they are numbered, and let out under the appellation of "_lunetas_;" every person proceeding to his own seat; thus the crowding and fighting, for places, so common in our theatres, is avoided. No females are admitted into the pit.

In the dress circle, some blue silk spread over the panels of the boxes is all that distinguishes it from the others.

The dress boxes will contain about eight persons each. As they have not any seats affixed to them, those who engage them send chairs; or the theatre will supply them, by paying a trifle for their use. The price of a box, for a night's performance, is three dollars. These boxes, and, indeed, places for every other part of the house, may be taken for a certain period called a "_function_," which lasts ten nights. Many families engage their boxes this way, which makes them come reasonable.

Under the dress circle, and even with the pit, are boxes called _palcos_, at 2½ dollars per night.

The _cazuela_, or gallery, is similar to the one at Astley's, except that it is not so large. It is appropriated to females alone. The keeping females thus crowded together in a theatre, and separated from their natural protectors, seems an abominable practice. A stranger is apt to form erroneous opinions of the fair occupants of the cazuela, and can scarcely believe that the most respectable are to be found there: but it is so; and husbands, brothers, and friends, wait for them at the gallery door. This custom, it is said, they inherit from the Moors. The _goddesses_ of the cazuela behave in the most orderly manner; much more so, I suspect, than my countrywomen would, similarly situated.

Over the stage is inscribed the words--"_Es la Comedia Espejo de la Vida_."

The Governor's box was close to the stage, on what in the London theatres is denominated the Prince's side of the house; and the _cabildo_, or box of the chief magistracy, was in front. But now the Governor's box is removed to what was the _cabildo_, and the English consul occupies the one lately the Governor's. The Governor, except on national days, seldom attends the theatre.

That important personage, the prompter, has his little tub, as usual, in the middle of the stage, destroying all the illusion of the scene, and, from necessity, obliging the audience to hear him as well as the performers. Senor Zappucci, an Italian, intent, one evening, upon impressing the audience with the drollery of a comic song, fell through the prompter's hole; and the spectators began to consider whether this was a part of his song. Fortunately he was not hurt. The superior arrangement, in this respect, of the English theatres, might afford a lesson to the most prejudiced foreigners.

The admittance is two reals to all parts of the house: but this does not include a seat. It is, therefore, necessary to take a whole box, or a single place in the pit (which costs three reals), in addition to the admission.

Soldiers, who constitute every where the police of the city, were formerly stationed both inside and outside of the theatre; but this is no longer the case; and the eye of the republican citizen is not offended by their presence at places of public amusement.

No refreshments are sold in the theatre; we never hear the "Choice fruit, ladies and gentlemen, and a bill of the play!" and the spectators in the pit are saved the nuisance of having the peelings of oranges and apples dropped upon them. But then they are not condemned to sit five or six hours, as in our theatres; three hours and a half is the utmost. The pit audience generally walk out between the acts, and reassume their seats without disturbance or difficulty.

Smoking in the theatre is not allowed; but such charms has the segar, that they watch the opportunity of the absence of the police to smoke in the lobbies.

The theatre continues open all the year round, with the exception of Lent; and then music is permitted.

The regular nights of performance are Sundays and Thursdays; though there are sometimes performances on Tuesdays, saints' days, &c. Sunday nights are the most crowded, as in all Catholic countries. On rainy nights there is no performance.

The usual performances at the theatre consist of a play and farce; with singing, sometimes, between the acts.

"_Othello_" is at times performed--not that of our Shakspeare, but a translation from the French. Its absurdities and tameness no Englishman can endure with common patience; he looks in vain for those bursts that overpower the imagination, and electrify the spectators.

An ingenious English gentleman translated Cumberland's "_Wheel of Fortune_," and "_The Jew_;" but they are too sentimental to please this audience. "_Love laughs at Locksmiths_" and "_Matrimony_," from the original French, are stock pieces; and "_The Scottish Outlaw_," and "_Charles Edward Stuart_" are very successful.

The performers are about equal to those of our country theatres. Of the females, Doña Trinidad Guevra takes the lead. She has a good figure, a tolerably expressive face, and a sweet, plaintive voice. In such parts as _Letitia Hardy_, and _Maria_, in "_The Citizen_," she excels; and likewise in the sentimental.

Velarde is their first male performer, and plays tragedy, comedy, farce--it would be unkind to say, with _Silvester Daggerwood_--and "makes nothing of them;" for, in comedy, he has talent: his tragedy is not first-rate. He has the merit of dressing his characters with some regard to costume. I have seen him personate a British officer, with a uniform coat nearly a copy of those worn by our Foot-Guard officers.--The general manner of dress upon the stage, at times, approaches to the burlesque. An English nobleman is always made to wear the order of the Garter, and a star, whether in street, forest, or drawing-room. Señor Rosquellas, in the part of _Lord Leicester_ or _Essex_ (I know not which) in Rossini's "_Queen Elizabeth_," wears the dress of a modern French field-marshal: his taste and experience should reform this.

Señor Culebras (in English, Mr. Snake) is made the butt of the juvenile part of the audience--the _Claremont_ of this theatre. When he appears to give out the play, they vociferate his name. Why they thus make sport of him, I know not, except that he has a peculiarly spare person, and is a sort of deputy manager, the Mr. Lamp of the company. He is said to be a sensible man, speaking the Spanish language very correctly. As an actor, he is both chaste and pleasing.

In low comedy, they have a good actor, named Felipe David, the Liston of the company; and one Señor Vera, who is a useful performer, as well as singer, and has abilities of no mean order. His representation of _Colonel Cox_, in the play of "_Charles Edward Stuart_," founded upon an incident after the battle of Culloden, forcibly brought to my recollection Lovegrove's _Rattan_, in the farce of "_The Bee-Hive_."

Our English actresses, when they come on the stage, "prepared for woe," have their white pocket-handkerchiefs pinned to their clothes: here they are held in the hands. Both customs are ridiculous; and the constant application they make of them in this theatre renders it more so.

The orchestra consists of twenty-eight instrumental performers. The symphonies between the acts are from Haydn, Mozart, &c. &c. as in the English theatres. The performances are ushered in by an overture, generally selected with great taste.

The musical department has greatly improved; and they get through difficult compositions with considerable spirit: constant practice, and, above all, the great exertions of Señor Rosquellas has effected this. This gentleman, a Spaniard by birth, made his first _debût_ before a Buenos Ayres audience in 1822, as a vocalist. His science has enabled him to surmount the imperfections of a very indifferent voice, and he is always heard with pleasure. Mr. Rosquellas[5] may be called the founder of the Buenos Ayres Opera; for, until he came, the orchestra was very indifferent. Mr. Rosquellas speaks English, and is married to an English lady. He has been in London, and, I believe, sung with Braham there. He was ably seconded by Señor Vacani, also from Rio Janeiro, the best _buffo_ I have seen (Naldi, perhaps, excepted). We had the music of Rossini night after night to delighted audiences: the duet of "_Al' idea di quell metallo_," from "_The Barber of Seville_," is as great a favourite here as in Europe.

[5] As Mr. R. is an important personage in Buenos Ayres, I cannot forbear relating an anecdote of him:--In an excursion to Rio Janeiro, he took away with him a slave girl, reporting (or scandal had done so for him) that she was a present from the governor's lady, as a trifling reward for the pleasure his musical talents had afforded her. This coming to the ears of the lady made her highly indignant, saying, that "she was not in the habit of giving away her slaves." Rosquellas, upon his return, was sent to prison, and made to account for the slave, by paying a round sum of money.

The departure of Vacani left a blank in the musical world, which has been since, in some degree, compensated by the appearance of Doña Angelina Tani. She has a fine tenor voice; the lower tones are of great depth, and some of them she elicits with great effect in a trio from Rossini's "_Elizabeth Queen of England_."

During the Lent of 1824, we had some delightful musical treats, which rendered the representations of their regular drama very dull, particularly to a foreigner.

An English mechanic, by name Waldegrave, was tempted to make a trial upon this stage as a singer. He sung "_The Beautiful Maid_," and "_The Bewildered Maid_;" but he failed to make any impression. His voice was good, but he wanted grace.

In English singing, I doubt whether the inimitable Braham would please them. They smile at the idea of our having a talent for music. The finest compositions of Arne, Storace, Shield, Braham, &c. might stand a chance of being suspected to be stolen from foreign composers; for nothing goes down but Italian or Spanish music. Rosquellas, from being a Spaniard, and singing their popular songs, such as the "_Contrabandista_," &c. is just to their taste: for, though no longer owning the Spanish sway, they still cling to that music which charmed them in their youth.

With a people so fond of dancing, one would expect to find a regular corps de ballet at the theatre; but a dance was not to be seen, except, now and then, dancers from the Rio Janeiro Theatre accepted engagements for a limited period, until Monsieur and Madame Touissaint, from the Paris and London Opera, arrived, who meet with great and deserved encouragement.

The bolero, fandango, and the pleasing castanets, seem peculiar only to Spain: I had thought to have found them common here. The Touissaints have introduced the bolero, and dance charmingly.

An Englishman, at a foreign theatre, cannot help being struck with the stillness and order, which form so great a contrast to what he has been accustomed to at home. The theatre of Buenos Ayres, in this respect, might serve as an example to those of more polished nations.[6] But, notwithstanding Lord Byron's remark, that he would never write a play for our winter theatres, whilst the one-shilling gallery was suffered to remain; I prefer their boisterous mirth, and its many inconveniences, to the monotony of the foreign stage. The magnificence and ingenuity of our Christmas pantomime, which every body pretends to despise, and yet which all go to see, with the joyous faces of so many children seated round the boxes, convulsed with laughter at the drolleries of a Grimaldi, are not to be paralleled elsewhere. A London theatre is, indeed, a world within itself.

[6] I once witnessed a most disgraceful scene at the Theatre Français, at Paris. Talma was performing _Cinna_--the house was crowded, when some English ladies entered the boxes, escorted by two of their countrymen, military officers. It was at the time when the British army occupied Paris. In taking off their shawls, the backs of the ladies were, for a moment, turned towards the pit; when a yelling commenced from that quarter, which would have disgraced savages. The interference of the British officers increased the confusion; the most insulting gestures were resorted to; and the ladies quitted the theatre in tears, affording a noble triumph to those brave champions of etiquette.

Sometimes a straggling English sailor will wander into this theatre; but not understanding it, he soon leaves it for the grog shop. A sailor is always a troublesome inmate of a theatre. Two of them were passing their remarks rather loudly, one evening: the audience laughed; but not so the police, for they handed the two poor fellows into the street. Jack swore that he had had many a row at the Liverpool and Portsmouth play-house, without being molested; and damned such liberty as that at Buenos Ayres. I got my weather-beaten countrymen away, seeing them inclined to resist; for unarmed men stand but a poor chance with a police of bayonets and swords.

Managers and actors quarrel in the new as well as in the old world. Velarde has had one or two disputes, and left the theatre. The audience insisted upon his return, and the manager was obliged to yield. The actor's appearance, after these squabbles, is made a triumph by his friends; and the ladies in the cazuela throw bouquets, literally strewing the stage with flowers. These disagreements give rise to formal appeals to the public, from both parties, in the shape of printed addresses. In Velarde's dispute, the manager had charged him with getting drunk. The actor indignantly denied this; but allowed that, on the 25th of May (the anniversary of their independence), he did get a little merry, broke glasses, and quarrelled with the landlord, in honour of the day, as every good patriot should do; and, in answer to a remark that had been made upon the graces of his person, he stated, that he did not possess Jacob's ladder, to climb to heaven, and ask God why he was not made an Adonis.

A certain priest, Castañeda, having, in a publication, attacked the character of Doña Trinidad, for wearing upon the stage the portrait of a married gentleman (as he asserted), the lady absented herself from the theatre for some nights. On her re-appearance, she was greeted with applause; the audience reasoning, like our's in the affair of Mrs. H. Johnstone and Braham, that the public have nothing to do with private character.