Accordingly, on Sunday afternoon, we drove to the _Encarnación_, the most
splendid and richest convent in Mexico, excepting perhaps la Concepción. If
it were in any other country, I might mention the surpassing beauty of the
evening, but as except in the rainy season, which has not yet begun, the
evenings are always beautiful, the weather leaves no room for description.
The sky always blue, the air always soft, the flowers always blossoming,
the birds always singing; Thomson never could have written his "Seasons"
here. We descended at the convent gate, were admitted by the portress, and
received by several nuns, their faces closely covered with a double crape
veil. We were then led into a spacious hall, hung with handsome lustres,
and adorned with various Virgins and Saints magnificently dressed; and here
the eldest, a very dignified old lady, lifted her veil, the others
following her example, and introduced herself as the _Madre Vicaria_;
bringing us many excuses from the old abbess, who having an inflammation in
her eyes, was confined to her cell. She and another reverend mother, and a
group of elderly dames, tall, thin, and stately, then proceeded to inform
us, that the archbishop had, in person, given orders for our reception, and
that they were prepared to show us the whole establishment.
The dress is a long robe of very fine white casimere, a thick black crape
veil, and long rosary. The dress of the novices is the same, only that the
veil is white. For the first half-hour or so, I fancied, that along with
their politeness, was mingled a good deal of restraint, caused perhaps by
the presence of a foreigner, and especially of an Englishwoman. My
companions they knew well; the Señorita having even passed some months
there. However this may have been, the feeling seemed gradually to wear
away. Kindness or curiosity triumphed; their questions became unceasing;
and before the visit was concluded, I was addressed as "_mi vida_" (my
life), by the whole establishment. Where was I born? Where had I lived?
What convents had I seen? Which did I prefer, the convents in France, or
those in Mexico? Which were largest? Which had the best garden? etc., etc.
Fortunately, I could, with truth, give the preference to their convent, as
to spaciousness and magnificence, over any I ever saw.
The Mexican style of building is peculiarly advantageous for recluses; the
great galleries and courts affording them a constant supply of fresh air,
while the fountains sound so cheerfully, and the garden in this climate of
perpetual spring affords them such a constant source of enjoyment all the
year round, that one pities their secluded state much less here than in any
other country.
This convent is in fact a palace. The garden, into which they led us first,
is kept in good order, with its stone walks, stone benches, and an ever-
playing and sparkling fountain. The trees were bending with fruit, and they
pulled quantities of the most beautiful flowers for us; sweet-peas and
roses, with which all gardens here abound, carnations, jasmine, and
heliotrope. It was a pretty picture to see them wandering about, or
standing in groups in this high-walled garden, while the sun was setting
behind the hills, and the noise of the city was completely excluded,
everything breathing repose and contentment. Most of the halls in the
convent are noble rooms. We visited the whole, from the refectory to the
_botica_, and admired the extreme cleanness of everything, especially of
the immense kitchen, which seems hallowed from the approach even of a
particle of dust; this circumstance is partly accounted for by the fact
that each nun has a servant, and some have two; for this is not one of the
strictest orders. The convent is rich; each novice at her entrance pays
five thousand dollars into the common stock. There are about thirty nuns
and ten novices.
The prevailing sin in a convent generally seems to be pride;
"The pride that apes humility;"
and it is perhaps nearly inseparable from the conventual state. Set apart
from the rest of the world, they, from their little world, are too apt to
look down with contempt which may be mingled with envy, or modified by
pity, but must be unsuited to a true Christian spirit.
The novices were presented to us--poor little entrapped things! who really
believe they will be let out at the end of the year if they should grow
tired, as if they would ever be permitted to grow tired! The two eldest and
most reverend ladies are sisters, thin, tall, and stately, with high noses,
and remains of beauty. They have been in the convent since they were eight
years old (which is remarkable, as sisters are rarely allowed to profess in
the same establishment), and consider _La Encarnación_ as a small piece of
heaven upon earth. There were some handsome faces amongst them, and one
whose expression and eyes were singularly lovely, but truth to say, these
were rather exceptions to the general rule.
Having visited the whole building, and admired one virgin's blue satin and
pearls, and another's black velvet and diamonds, sleeping holy infants,
saints, paintings, shrines, and confessionals,--having even climbed up the
Azotea, which commands a magnificent view, we came at length to a large
hall, decorated with paintings and furnished with antique high-backed
arm-chairs, where a very elegant supper, lighted up and ornamented, greeted
our astonished eyes; cakes, chocolate, ices, creams, custards, tarts,
jellies, blancmangers, orange and lemonade, and other profane dainties,
ornamented with gilt paper cut into little flags, etc. I was placed in a
chair that might have served for a pope under a holy family; the
Señora ----- and the Señorita ----- on either side. The elder nuns in
stately array, occupied the other arm-chairs, and looked like statues
carved in stone. A young girl, a sort of pensionnaire, brought in a little
harp without pedals, and while we discussed cakes and ices, sung different
ballads with a good deal of taste. The elder nuns helped us to everything,
but tasted nothing themselves. The younger nuns and the novices were
grouped upon a mat a la Turque, and a more picturesque scene altogether one
could scarcely see.
The young novices in their white robes, white veils, and black eyes, the
severe and dignified madres with their long dresses and mournful-looking
black veils and rosaries, the veiled figures occasionally flitting along
the corridor;--ourselves in contrast, with our worldly dresses and coloured
ribbons; and the great hall lighted by one immense lamp that hung from the
ceiling--I felt transported three centuries back, and half afraid that the
whole would flit away, and prove a mere vision, a waking dream.
A gossiping old nun, who hospitably filled my plate with everything, gave
me the enclosed flag cut in gilt paper, which, together with her custards
and jellies, looked less unreal. They asked many questions in regard to
Spanish affairs, and were not to be consoled for the defeat of Don Carlos,
which they feared would be an end of the true religion in Spain.