Italian Opera--Artists, Male and Female--Prima Donna--Lucia de
Lammermoor--Some Disappointment--Second Representation--Improvement--Romeo
and Giulietta--La Ricci--La Señora Cesari--The Mint--False
Coining--Repetition of Lucia--Procession by Night--A Spanish
Beauty--Discriminating Audience--A little Too Simple--Gold
Embroidery--Santiago--Pilgrims--Old Indian Custom--Soiree--Mexico by
Moonlight--Mysterious Figure--Archbishop--Viceroy.
13th July.
We little expected to be still here at the opening of the new Italian
opera, and had consequently given up our box. Señor Roca, who went to Italy
to bring out the _requisites_, has arrived at the end of a wonderfully
short period, with the singers, male and female, the new dresses,
decorations, etc.; and the first opera, Lucia de Lammermoor, was given last
week. The theatre is the former _Teatro des Gallos_, an octagonal circus,
which has been fitted up as elegantly as circumstances would permit, and as
the transition from the crowing of cocks to the soft notes of _Giulietta_
rendered necessary. The _prima donna assoluta_ is the Signora Anaide
Castellan de Giampietro, born in Paris, bred in Milan. The _prima donna
soprano_ is the Signora de Ricci; and the second _donna_ is called
Branzanti. The first tenor is Signor Giampietro, husband to the prima
donna; and the second tenor is the Signor Alberti Bozetti. The first bass
is Signor Tomassi, and the buffo bass Signor Spontini. They have been so
much _prone_, and public expectation has been so much excited, that we
supposed it probable that the first evening at least would be a failure to
a certain extent. Besides, the Mexican audience, if not very experienced,
is decidedly musical; and they have already had a pretty good opera here,
have heard Madame Albini, la Cesari, Garcia (the father of Malibran) and
the _beux restes_ of Galli; therefore can compare.
The first evening, the Castellan made her appearance as _Lucia_. She is
about twenty; slight and fair, with black hair, graceful, and with a very
sweet, clear, and pure young voice, also very correct. The tenor rests upon
his wife's laurels. He looks well, but little more can be said in his
praise. Tomassi has some good notes, and a fine figure. Of the others who
sang that evening there is little to be said. The theatre is extremely well
got up, the dresses are new and rich, and the decorations and scenery
remarkably good. The public, however, were disappointed. They had prepared
for wonders, and were not satisfied with a fair performance. The applauses
were few and far between. The Castellan was not called for, and the
following day a certain degree of discontent pervaded the aristocracy of
the capital.
At the second representation of the same opera things mended. The voice of
La Castellan was appreciated. Applauses were loud and long, and at the end
of the opera she and the director were called for and received with
enthusiasm. She seems likely to become a favourite.
Last evening we had Romeo and Giulietta, in which La Ricci and La Cesari
made their appearance, the former as Giulietta, the latter as Romeo. The
Ricci is a thin young woman, with a long, pale face, black eyes and hair,
long neck and arms, and large hands; extremely pretty, it is said, off the
stage, but very ineffective on it; but both on and off with a very
distinguished air. Her voice is extensive, but wanting cultivation, and
decidedly _pea-hennish_; besides that, she is apt to go out of tune. Her
style of dress was excessively unbecoming to her style of beauty. She wore
a tight white gown, a tight blue satin-peaked body, with long tight blue
sleeves. The public were indulgent, but it was evident that they were
disappointed.
La Cesari, highly married, and who for the last three years has not
appeared upon the stage, came out as _Romeo_, with tunic and mantle, white
silk stockings, hat, and feathers, etc. She was very much frightened and
ill at ease, and it required all the applause with which the public greeted
the _entree_ of their former favourite to restore her to self-possession.
She looked remarkably well--tall, handsome, beautifully formed, rather
pale, with fine dark eyes, dark hair, and _moustaches_. Her acting was
greatly superior, as much so as was her beauty to any of the others. She
has more knowledge of the theatre, more science, taste, and energy, than
any of them; but her voice, a soft contralto, is out of use and feeble. The
theatre, besides, is ill-constructed for the voice, and must have a bad
effect upon the fulness and tone. On the whole, it seems doubtful whether
the opera will endure long. Were we going to remain here, I should trust
that it might be supported, for, with all its faults and drawbacks, it is
decidedly the best public exhibition in Mexico. The _coup d'oeil_ was
exceedingly pretty, as all the boxes were crowded, and the ladies were in
full dress.
July 20th.--As we are living in the mint, the directors have called on us;
and this morning they came to invite us to descend into the lower regions
to see the silver coined. We went all over this immense establishment, a
fine picture of decayed magnificence, built about one hundred and ten years
ago by the Spaniards. Dirty, ill-kept, the machinery rude, the workmen
discontented; its fine vaulted roofs, that look like the interior of a
cathedral, together with that _grandiose_ style which distinguished the
buildings of the Spaniards in Mexico, form a strong contrast with the
occupants.
We saw the silver bars stretched out, the dollars cut and whitened and
stamped; and in one place we saw the machines for _coining false money_,
which have been collected in such numbers that there is hardly room for
them! We saw the place where the silver and gold is tested; and the room
with the medals, amongst which are some ancient Roman, Persian, and
English, but especially Spanish, and many of the time of Charles III.; when
we were looking at which, an old gentleman exclaimed, "Would to Heaven
those days would return!" without doubt the general feeling. This old man
had been forty-four years in the Casa de Moneda, and had lived under
several viceroys. He could remember, when a boy, being sent with a
commission to the Viceroy Revillagigedo, and being very much frightened,
but soon reassured by the kind reception of the representative of majesty.
He spoke of the flourishing condition of the mint in those days, which
coined twenty-seven millions annually, and was a royal house. He said that
the viceroys used to praise them and thank them for their exertions; that
the house was then kept in the most perfect order, the principal officers
wearing a uniform, etc.
Hereupon another old gentleman took up the theme, and improved upon it; and
told us, that, on one occasion, they had one million three hundred thousand
dollars' worth of gold in the house; and described the visit of the
vice-queen Yturriguary, who came to see it, and sat down and looked round
her in amazement at the quantity of gold she saw accumulated. This old
gentleman had been thirty years in the mint, and seemed as though he had
never been anywhere else; as if he were part and parcel in it, and had been
coined, and beat out, and clipped there.
Hearing him, another fat man, rather unclipt-looking than otherwise, began
to bewail the state of the times, till it was a chorus universal, where all
sang in one key. One had a very large, underhanging lip, with a kind of
tragi-comic countenance, and was constantly making lugubrious puns.
Another, who seemed bred to the mint, (though by his account the mint was
not _bread_ to him,) was insatiably curious, as a man born in a mint might
be. We passed about three hours in a mixture of admiration of the past and
sorrow for the present, and were reconducted to our domicile by the poor
_employes,_ who seemed to think that a Spanish Minister was the next best
to a Spanish viceroy, or of anything they had seen for some time.
"The Past is nothing; and at last,
The Future will but be the Past,"
says Lord Byron. Here the past is everything; and the future?--Answer it
who can.
We were assured, while wondering at the number of machines for false
coining which had been collected, that there are twice that number now in
full force in Mexico; but that they belong to such distinguished
personages, the government is afraid to interfere with them. Besides this,
there is now no sufficient punishment for this crime, a capital offence in
the days of the Spanish government. A lady here is said to have exclaimed
with much simplicity on hearing her husband accused of false coining, "I
really wonder why they make so much noise about it. It seems to me that my
husband's copper is as good as any other!"
24th.--We went last evening to the opera, which was a repetition of Lucia,
as it appears they cannot venture, in the face of public disapprobation, to
repeat Romeo and Giulietta at present. As we were passing through the
square, the carriage suddenly drew up, the coachman and footman uncovered
their heads, and an immense procession came passing along the cathedral,
with lights and military music. There were officers in full uniform, with
their heads uncovered, a long file of monks and priests, and a carriage
carrying the host, surrounded by hundreds of people on foot, all bearing
lighted torches. A band of military music accompanied the procession, all
which astonished us, as it was no fête-day. When, at length, being able to
pass along, we arrived at the opera, we were informed that they were
carrying the _viaticum_ to a rich acquaintance of ours, a general, who has
been indisposed for some time, and whose illness has now exhibited fatal
symptoms.
For him, then, these great cathedral bells are tolling heavily; for him,
the torches and the pompous procession--the sandalled monks, and the
officers in military array; while two bands of music are playing at his
door and another in front of the cathedral, and in the midst of these
sounds of monkish hymn and military music, the soul is preparing to wing
its flight alone and unattended.
But the sweet notes of Lucia drown all other from our ears, if not from our
thoughts. In a house not many hundred yards off, they Minister the host to
the dying man, while here, La Castellan, with her pretty French graces and
Italian singing, is drawing tears from our eyes for fictitious sorrows.
The theatre was pretty well filled, though there were some empty boxes,
sights more hideous in the eyes of actors than toothless mouths. We sat
with Madame la Baronne de -----, and nearly opposite was Madame -----,
related to the "_Principe de la Paz_," a handsome woman, with a fine
Bohemian cast of face, dark in complexion, with glittering teeth, brilliant
eyes, and dark hair. La Castellan sang very well, with much clearness,
precision, and facility. She is certainly graceful and pretty, but, except
in her method, more French than Italian. Her style suits Lucia, but I doubt
her having _l'air noble_ sufficient for a Norma or a Semiramis. The bass
improves upon acquaintance, but the handsome tenor is nought. The audience
seemed to me both indulgent and discriminating. They applauded the pretty
prima donna _con furor_; they praised the bass when he deserved it, the
tenor when it was possible; but where he sang false, nothing could extort
from them a solitary _viva_. This discrimination makes their applause worth
having, and proceeds less from experience or cultivation, than from a
_musical instinct_.
In a visit we made this morning, we were shown a piece of embroidery,
which, from its splendour and good taste, is worthy of observation, though
by no means uncommon here. We went to call on the wife of a judge, who
showed us all through their beautiful house, which looks out on the
Alameda. In one of the rooms, their daughter was engaged on a piece of
embroidery for the altar of the chapel. The ground was the very richest and
thickest white satin; the design was a garland of vine-leaves, with bunches
of grapes. The vine-leaves were beautifully embroidered in fine gold, and
the grapes were composed of amethysts. I can conceive nothing richer and
more tasteful than the general effect. The gold embroidery done in Mexico
is generally very beautiful, and there are many ladies who embroider in
great perfection. There is an amazing quantity of it used in the churches,
and in military uniforms. I have also seen beautiful gold-embroidered
ball-dresses, but they are nearly out of fashion.... We hear that
General -----, though still ill, is likely to recover.
25th.--This being the day of Santiago, the patron saint of Spain, C---n was
invited by the padres to San Francisco to attend mass in the church there.
We were shown to the tribuna (gallery) of the Countess de Santiago, where
they gave us chairs, and put down a piece of carpet. C---n and the rest of
the legation were in the body of the church, in velvet chairs, with lighted
tapers in their hands. The saint was carried in procession, going out by
the principal door, making a tour of the streets, and returning by a side
door. The music was pretty good, especially one soprano voice. Twelve
little boys were placed on crimson velvet benches, on either side of the
altar, representing pilgrims of Galicia (of which Santiago is the capital),
handsome little fellows, belonging to respectable families, dressed in
robes of dark green or crimson, or violet-coloured velvet, with falling
lace collars, and the neck ornamented with gold and silver shells; a large
pilgrim's hat fastened on behind, and hanging down, and in their hands
staffs with gold bells. They were beautiful children, and all behaved with
becoming gravity and decorum during the ceremony, walking with much dignity
in the procession.
After the _función_, we went out to Santiago, an old church near Mexico,
where the Indians annually come in procession on this day, and sell their
fruit, flowers, pulque, etc. All the waste ground near the church was
covered with green booths, and there was a great crowd of carriages and
horsemen, and people on foot. The troops were drawn out, escorting the
procession to the church. But though the scene was curious, as the remnant
of an old-established ceremony, and the Indians, with their booths and
flowers, and great show of fruit, were all very picturesque, the sun was so
intense, that after walking about a little while, and buying tunas and nuts
and peaches, we returned home, together with the Guera Rodriguez, who was
in the carriage with us, and giving us a lively description of what this
fête used to be in former days. Had a visit the same morning from the
Señora M----, whom I think even handsomer by daylight, than she appeared to
be at the opera; not always the case with dark beauties.
26th.-Another representation of Vaccaj's Romeo and Giulietta, with the
second appearance of La Ricci. Music and Ricci seem considered a failure.
The Señora Cesari made the handsomest of Romeos, as usual, but was ill, and
out of spirits. The opera as a whole was coldly received; the boxes and pit
were nearly empty, and La Ricci seems unlikely to gain any favour with the
public, though it must be confessed that she looked better, was more
becomingly dressed, and both sang and acted better than the preceding
night. Yesterday we went to a _soirée_ at the ----- Minister's. Madame
Castellan and her tenor were there, and had come from a dinner given by a
rich curate to the whole _corps operatique_, from the prima donna down to
the _joueur du fagote_, and even to the tailor who makes the opera dresses,
and his wife. This rich padre, it is said, spends a great part of his
fortune in entertaining actors and singers. La Castellan (permission to
that effect having been obtained from the manager, for it is against their
agreement to perform in private houses) sang several airs to the piano,
with much expression, especially from _Robert le Díable_; and _Nina Pazza
per Amore_; but I prefer her voice in the theatre. She is not at all
beautiful, but has a charming face with a very musical expression.
We returned home by moonlight, the most flattering medium through which
Mexico can be viewed; with its broad and silent streets, and splendid old
buildings, whose decay and abandonment are softened by the silvery light;
its ancient churches, from which the notes of the organ occasionally come
pealing forth, mingled with faint blasts of music borne on the night wind
from some distant procession; or with the soft music of a hymn from some
neighbouring convent. The white-robed monk--the veiled female--even the
ragged beggar, add to the picture; by daylight his rags are too visible.
Frequently, as the carriages roll along to the opera, or as, at a late
hour, they return from it, they are suddenly stopped by the appearance of
the mysterious coach, with its piebald mules, and the _Eye_ surrounded by
rays of light on its panels; a melancholy apparition, for it has come from
the house of mourning, probably from the bed of death. Then, by the
moonlight, the kneeling figures on the pavement seemed as if carved in
stone. The city of Mexico by moonlight--the environs of Mexico at daybreak
--these are the hours for viewing both to advantage, and for making us feel
how
"All but the spirit of man is divine."
In front of our house, I should say of _the Mint_, is the archbishop's
palace, and in front of this palace an object which has greatly excited our
curiosity. It is an old man, who, whether as a penance, or from some motive
which we do not know, kneels, wrapt in his serape, beside the wall of the
_Arzobispado_ from sunset till midnight, or later--for we have frequently
gone out at nine in the evening, and left him kneeling there; and on our
return at one in the morning have found him in the same position. He asks
no alms, but kneels there silent and motionless, hour after hour, as if in
the performance of some vow....
We made a call this evening on the archbishop in his own palace, an
enormously large building; a sort of street, like this Casa de Moneda. He
received us very cordially, and looked very comfortable without his robes
of state, in a fine cloth dressing-gown, lined with violet-coloured silk.
August 1st.--We had a visit last evening from one of the directors of the
mint, a curious and most original genius, a Mexican, who has served nearly
thirty years in that and other capacities, and who, after speaking of the
different viceroys he had seen, proceeded to give us various anecdotes of
the Viceroy Revillagigedo, the most honoured for his justice, renowned for
his energy, and feared for his severity, of the whole dynasty. Our friend
was moved to enthusiasm by the sight of an old-fashioned but very handsome
musical clock, which stands on a table in the drawing-room, and which he
says was brought over by this viceroy, and was no doubt considered a
miracle of art in those days.
Some of the anecdotes he told us are already generally known here, but his
manner of telling them was very interesting, and he added various
particulars which we had not heard before. Besides, the stories themselves
seem to me so curious and characteristic, that however much they lose by
being tamely written instead of _dramatized_ as they are by him, I am
tempted to give you one or two specimens. But my letter is getting beyond
all ordinary limits, and your curiosity will no doubt keep cool till the
arrival of another packet.