The Port of Callao.--A Submerged City.--Peruvian Exports.--A
Dirty and Unwholesome Town.--Cinchona Bark.--The Andes.--The
Llama.--A National Dance.--City of Lima.--An Old and
Interesting Capital.--Want of Rain.--Pizarro and His
Crimes.--A Grand Cathedral.--Chilian Soldiers.--Costly
Churches of Peru.--Roman Catholic Influence.--Desecration of
the Sabbath.
The passage northward from Valparaiso to Callao occupies about four days
by the steamers which do not stop at intermediate ports. We entered the
harbor in the early morning while a soft veil of mist enshrouded the
bay, but as the sun fairly shone upon the view, this aerial screen
rapidly disappeared, revealing Callao just in front of us, making the
foreground of a pleasing and vivid picture, the middle distance filled
by the ancient city of Lima, and the far background by alpine ranges.
Callao is an ill-built though important town, with a population of about
thirty thousand, and serves as the port for Lima, the capital of Peru.
It has a good harbor, well protected by the island of San Lorenzo,
which, with the small island of El Fronton, and the Palminos reef, forms
a protection against the constant swell of the ocean. There are nearly
always one or two ships of war belonging to foreign nations in the
harbor, and large steamships from the north or the south. The sailing
distance from Panama is fifteen hundred miles. The Callao of to-day is
comparatively modern. Old Callao formerly stood on a tongue of land
opposite San Lorenzo, but in 1746 an earthquake submerged it and drowned
some five thousand of the inhabitants, foundered a score of ships, and
stranded a Spanish man-of-war. In calm weather one can row a boat over
the spot where the old city stood, and see the ruins far down in the
deep waters. The present city has twice been near to sharing the same
fate: once in 1825, and again in 1868. It is, therefore, not assuming
too much to say that Callao may at any time disappear in the most
summary fashion. The sunken ruins in the harbor are a melancholy and
suggestive sight, the duplicate of which we do not believe can be found
elsewhere on the globe. Though seismic disturbances are of such frequent
occurrence, and are so destructive on the west coast of South America,
they are hardly known on the Atlantic or eastern side of the continent.
That they are frequently coincident with volcanic disturbances indicates
that there is an intimate connection between them, but yet earthquakes
often occur in regions where volcanoes do not exist. This was the case,
not long since, as most of our readers will remember, in South Carolina.
It has been noticed by careful observers that animals become uneasy on
the eve of such an event, which would seem to show that earthquakes
sometimes owe their origin to extraordinary atmospheric conditions.
San Lorenzo is about six miles from Callao, and is four miles long by
one in width. It is utterly barren, presenting a mass of brownish gray
color, eleven hundred feet high, at whose base there is ever a broad,
snow white ruffle, caused by the never-ceasing ocean swell breaking into
foam. An English smelting company has established extensive works near
the shore of the island, for the reduction of silver and copper ores.
The approach to Callao from the sea affords a fine view of the
undulating shore, backed by the snowy Cordilleras, the shabby buildings
of the town, with the dismantled castle of San Felipe forming the
foreground. In landing one must be cautious: there is always
considerable swell in the harbor.
The staple products of this region are represented by packages of
merchandise prepared for shipment, and which are the first to attract
one's attention upon landing, such as cinchona bark from the native
forests, piles of wheat in bulk, hides, quantities of crude salt, sugar
packed in dried banana leaves, bales of alpaca wool, and, most
suggestive of all, some heavy bags of silver ore. Little is being done
in mining at present, though the field for this industry is large. The
difficulty of transportation is one of the great drawbacks, yet Peru has
over a thousand miles of railways in her rather limited area. Gold,
platinum, silver, and copper are all found in paying quantities. Coal
and petroleum also exist here, in various inland districts. The guano
deposits, which have yielded so much wealth to Peru in the past, are
practically exhausted, while the nitrate-producing province of Tarapaca
has been stolen by Chili, to which it now belongs. It is thought that
the nitrate deposits can be profitably worked for fifty years to come.
A crowd of the lazy, ragged population were loafing about the landing,
watching the strangers as they came on shore at the wet and slippery
stone steps.
It is very plain that the great importance of Callao has departed,
though there is still an appearance of business activity. Not long ago,
a hundred vessels at a time might be seen at anchor inside of San
Lorenzo; now, a score of good-sized ships are all one can count. This is
owing to various causes: an unreasonable high tariff is one of them,
exorbitant port charges is another, and the general depression of
business on the west coast is felt quite as strongly here as at any of
the ports. Like Santos, on the other side of the continent, Callao is
ever an unhealthy resort, where a great mortality prevails in the fever
season. The absence of good drainage and inattention to hygienic rules
will in part account for the bad repute that the port has among the
shipping masters who frequent the coast. The streets are particularly
malodorous about the water front. The dirty vultures seem to be depended
upon to remove offensive garbage.
A certain remarkable occurrence sometimes takes place in this harbor,
which, so far as the writer knows, is without precedent elsewhere. A
ship may come in from sea and anchor at about sunset, in good order and
condition, everything being white and clean on board, but when her
captain comes on deck the next morning, he may find that his ship has
been painted, inside and out, a dark chocolate color during the night,
the atmosphere at the same time being impregnated with a peculiar odor,
arising from this "paint," or whatever it may be, which clings
tenaciously to every object, wood or iron. While it is damp and freshly
deposited, it can be removed like fresh paint, but if it is permitted to
dry, it is as difficult to remove as ordinary dried paint would be. No
one can tell the origin of this nuisance, but most seamen whose business
brings them to Callao have been through this experience. Of course it
must be an atmospheric deposit, but from whence? It has never been known
to occur upon the neighboring land, but only in the harbor. Scientists
have given the matter their attention, and have concluded that it may be
caused by sulphurous gases produced in the earth below the water, which
rise to the surface and disseminate themselves in the surrounding
atmosphere.
From any elevated point in the city one may enjoy a delightful view, the
main features of which are the Andes on the land side, and seaward, the
broad heaving bosom of the Pacific. The corrugated peaks of the former,
clad in white, seem like restless phantoms marching through the sky.
Over the latter, long lines of inky blackness trail behind northern or
southern bound steamers, while here and there a tall, full-rigged ship
recalls the older modes of navigation.
The smoother water inside of San Lorenzo is alive with small boats, some
under sails, some propelled by oars, shooting in and out among the
shipping which lie at anchor before the town. A pair of large whales
assisted at this scene for our special benefit, just inside the harbor's
mouth. It must have been only play on their part,--leviathans at
play,--but they threw up the sea in such clouds of spray with their
broad tails, as to make it appear like a battle-royal seen from a mile
away.
We mentioned the fact of seeing cinchona bark in bales ready for
shipping. Of all the products of South America, gold, silver, and
precious stones included, the most valuable is the drug which is called
quinine, made from the bark of the cinchona tree. There is no other one
article known to the materia medica which has been used in such large
quantities or with such unvarying success by suffering humanity. It was
first introduced into Europe from Peru, and was then known as Peruvian
bark. It was supposed at that time to be found only in this section of
the continent; but subsequently it was discovered to abound in all the
forests along the course of the Andes, and especially on their western
slope. So large has been its export that it was found the source of
supply was rapidly becoming exhausted, until local governments awoke to
the importance of the matter, and protected by law the trees which
produce it. These are no longer ruthlessly cut down to die, when
yielding their valuable harvest, but only a certain quantity of the
desirable bark is taken from each tree annually, so that nature replaces
the portion which had been removed, by covering the trunk with a fresh
growth. The cinchona tree, having been transplanted from South America,
is now successfully cultivated in the islands of the Malacca Straits,
Ceylon, India, and other tropical regions.
The tree which produces this valuable febrifuge belongs to the same
family as the coffee plant. In appearance it is very like our native
beech tree, having remarkably white wood.
The llama is found nearly all over South America, and is often seen as a
beast of burden at Callao, taking the place here which the donkey or
burro fills in Mexico. It has been described as having the head and neck
of a camel, the body of a deer, the wool of a sheep, and the neigh of a
horse. We do not agree with those who pronounce the llama an awkward
creature. True, the body is a little ungainly, but the head, the
graceful pose, the pointed, delicate ears, and the large, lustrous eyes
are absolutely handsome. It can carry a burden weighing one hundred
pounds over hard mountain roads, day after day, while living upon very
scanty food. It is slow in its movements, patient when well treated, and
particularly sure-footed. It is of a very gentle disposition, but when
it finds the weight placed upon its back too heavy, like the Egyptian
camel, it immediately lies down and will not rise until the load is
lightened. The llama, or "mountain camel," as it has been aptly called,
is the only domesticated native animal. The horse, ox, hog, and sheep
are all importations which were entirely unknown here four centuries
ago. The llama has two notable peculiarities: when angry it will
expectorate at its enemy, and when hurt will shed tears. The
expectoration is of an acrid, semi-poisonous nature, and if it strikes
the eyes will, it is said, blind them. The llama, guanaco, alpaca, and
vicuna were the four sheep of the Incas, the wool of the first clothing
the common people; the second, the nobles; the third, the royal
governors; and the fourth the Incas. The first two are domesticated,
guanacos and vicunas are wild, though they all belong to the same
family.
The manners and customs of any people new to the traveler are always an
interesting study, but in nothing are they more strongly individualized
than in the pursuit of amusements. A favorite dance, known here as the
_zama cueca_, is often witnessed out-of-doors in retired corners of the
plaza or the alameda, as well as elsewhere. It requires two performers,
and is generally danced by a male and female, being not unlike the
Parisian cancan, both in the movement and the purpose of the expression.
The two dancers stand opposite each other, each having a pocket
handkerchief in the right hand, while the music begins at first a dull,
monotonous air, which rapidly rises and falls in cadence. The dancers
approach each other, swaying their bodies gracefully, and using their
limbs nimbly; now they pass each other, turning in the act to
coquettishly wave the handkerchief about their heads, and also to snap
it towards each other's faces. Thus they advance and retreat several
times, whipping at each other's faces, while throwing their bodies into
peculiar attitudes. Again they resume the first movement of advance and
retreat, one assuming coyness, the other ardor, and thus continue,
until, as a sort of climax, they fall into each other's arms with a peal
of hearty laughter. A guitar is the usual accompanying instrument, the
player uttering the while a shrill impromptu chant. When a male dancer
joins in this street performance, as is sometimes the case, it is apt to
be a little coarse and vulgar.
There is very little in Callao to detain us, and one is quite ready to
hasten on to Lima, the capital of Peru, hoping to escape the stench and
universal dirtiness of the port.
The city of Lima has at this writing about one hundred and sixty
thousand inhabitants, and is situated six miles from Callao, its
shipping port, with which it is connected by two rival railways. These
roads are constructed upon an up-grade the whole distance, but the rise
is so gradual as to be almost imperceptible, though Lima is over five
hundred feet higher than Callao. The capital, which is clearly visible
from the water as we enter the harbor, presents from that distance, and
even from a much nearer point of view, a most pleasing picture, being
favorably situated on elevated ground, with its many spires and domes
standing forth in bold relief. It has, when seen from such a distance, a
certain oriental appearance, charming to the eye of a stranger. But it
is deceptive; it is indeed distance which lends enchantment in this
case, for upon arriving within its precincts one is rudely undeceived.
The apparently grand array of architecture on near inspection proves to
be flimsy and poor in detail: everything is bamboo frame and plaster; no
edifice is solid above the basement. Still, one can easily imagine how
attractive the place must have been in those viceregal days, the period
of its false glory and prosperity. The capital stands almost at the very
foot of the Cordillera which forms the coast range, and is built upon
both sides of the Rimac, over which stretches a substantial stone bridge
of six arches, very old and very homely, but all the more interesting
because it is so venerable. The width of the river at this point is over
five hundred feet. In the winter season it is a very moderate stream,
but when the summer sun asserts itself, the snow upon the neighboring
mountains yields to its warmth, and the Rio Rimac then becomes an alpine
torrent. It is like the Arno at Florence, which at certain seasons has
the form of a river without the circulation. The anecdote is told here
of a Yankee visitor to Lima who was being shown over the city by a
patriotic citizen, and who on coming to this spot remarked to his
chaperon: "You ought either to buy a river or sell this bridge."
At the entrance of this ancient structure stands a lofty and very
effective archway, with two tall towers, and a clock in a central
elevation. Prominent over the arched entrance to the roadway is the
motto _Dios y La Patria_,--"God and Country." Nothing in Lima is of
more interest than this hoary, unique, moss-grown bridge.
One pauses before the crumbling yet still substantial old structure to
recall the vivid scenes which must have been enacted in the long, long
past upon its roadway. Here madly contending parties have spilled each
other's blood, hundreds of gaudy church processions have crossed these
arches, bitter civil and foreign wars have raged about the bridge, dark
conspiracies have been whispered and ripened here, solitary murders
committed in the darkness of night, and lifeless bodies thrown from its
parapet; but the dumb witness still remains intact, having endured more
than three hundred years of use and abuse.
It is not necessary to unpack one's waterproof or umbrella in Lima. It
never rains here, any more than it does in the region of Aden, at the
mouth of the Red Sea. All vegetable growth is more or less dependent
upon artificial irrigation, and in the environs where this is
judiciously applied the orange and lemon trees are heavy with golden
fruit, forming a rich contrast with the deep green of the luxuriant
plantain, the thick, lance-like agave, and the prolific banana. The city
and its environs would be as poorly off without the water of the Rimac
as would the Egyptians if deprived of the annual overflow of the
fertilizing Nile. Though the river is so inconsiderable at certain
seasons, still it does supply a certain quantity of water always, which
is improved to the utmost. Dews some times prevail at night, so heavy as
to be of partial benefit, giving to vegetation a breath of moisture, and
taking away the dead dryness of the atmosphere. This, however favorable
for vegetation, is considered unwholesome for humanity. The flowers and
shrubbery of the plaza droop for want of water, and are only preserved
by great care on the part of those in charge of them. In some of the
private gardens the pashinba palm-tree is seen, very peculiar in its
growth, being mounted as it were upon stilts, formed by the exposed
straight roots which radiate, like a series of props, to support the
tall trunk. At its apex is a singular, spear-like stem, pointing
straight skyward, without leaf or branch, just beneath which are the
graceful, long, curved palm leaves, exquisite in proportions, bending
like ostrich feathers. At first sight this tree looks like an artificial
production, in which nature has taken no part. Lying only twelve degrees
south of the equator, Lima has a tropical climate, but being also close
to the foothills of the Andes, she is near to a temperate district, so
that her market yields the fruits and vegetables of two zones.
Pizarro, the ambitious and intrepid conqueror of Peru, here established
his capital in 1535, and here ended his days in 1541, dying at the hands
of the assassin, the natural and retributive end of a life of gross
bigotry, sensuality, recklessness, and almost unparalleled cruelty. In a
narrow street,--the Callejon de Petateron,--leading out of the Plaza
Mayor, a house is pointed out as being the one in which Pizarro was
assassinated. Both Pizarro in Peru and Cortez in Mexico owed their
phenomenal success to exceptional circumstances, namely, to the civil
wars which prevailed among the native tribes of the countries they
invaded. By shrewdly directing these intestine troubles so as to aid
their own purposes, each commander in his special field achieved
complete victory over races which, thus disunited and pitted against
each other, fell an easy prey to the cunning invaders. Neither of these
adventurers had sufficient strength to contend against a united and
determined people. Such an enemy on his own ground would have swept the
handful of Spaniards led by Pizarro from the face of the earth by mere
force of numbers.
Soon after its foundation, Lima became the most luxurious and profligate
of the viceregal courts of Spain, and so continued until its declaration
of independence, and final separation from the mother country. The most
worthless and restless spirits about the throne of Spain were favored in
a desire to join Pizarro in the New World. The home government, while
purging itself of so undesirable an element, added to the recklessness
and utter immorality which reigned in the atmosphere of Lima.
Forty-three successive viceroys ruled Peru during the Spanish occupancy.
The nefarious Inquisition, steeped in the blood of helpless and innocent
natives, was active here long after its decadence in Madrid, while the
local churches, convents, and monasteries accumulated untold wealth by a
system of arbitrary taxation, and iniquitous extortion exercised towards
the native race. What better could have been expected from Pizarro than
to inaugurate and foster such a state of affairs? Under the influence of
designing priests and lascivious monks, he was as clay in the potter's
hands, being originally only an illiterate swineherd, one who could
neither read nor write. The state documents put forth during his
viceregency, still preserved and to be seen in the archives of Lima,
show that he could only affix his mark, not even attempting to write his
own name. Though Charles V. finally indorsed and ennobled him with the
title of Marques de la Conquista, and appointed him viceroy of the
conquered country, he was still and ever the illegitimate, low-bred hind
of Truxillo in continental Spain. The palace of this man, who, with the
exception of Cortez, was the greatest human butcher of the age in which
he lived, is still used for government offices, while the senate
occupies the council chamber of the old Inquisition building, infamous
for the bloody work done within its walls. H. Willis Baxley, M. D., the
admirable author, writes on the spot as follows: "When the apologists of
Pizarro attempt to shield his crimes, and excuse his acts of cruelty by
his religious zeal and holy purpose of extending the dominion of the
cross, they may well be answered that the religion was unworthy of
adoption which required for its extension that the wife of the Inca
Manco, then a prisoner in Pizarro's power, should be 'stripped naked,
bound to a tree, and in presence of the camp be scourged with rods, and
then shot to death with arrows!' This cold-blooded brutality, and to a
woman, should brand his name with eternal infamy."
As we have intimated, Lima, like Constantinople, looks at its best from
a distance, viewed so that the full and combined effect of its many
domes and spires can be taken in as a whole; but whether near to it or
far from it, few places in South America possess more poetical and
historical interest. Its past story reads like an Arabian Nights' tale.
Though the city is by no means what it has been, and wears an
unmistakable air of decayed greatness, and though foreign invaders and
civil wars have done their worst, Lima is still an extremely attractive
metropolis. Even the vandalism of the late Chilian invaders, who
outraged all the laws of civilized warfare (if there is any such thing
as civilized warfare), regardless of the rights of non-combatants, could
not obliterate her natural attractions and historical associations. The
Chilian soldiers destroyed solely for the sake of destroying, mutilated
statuary and works of art generally, besides burning historical
treasures and libraries; and yet these Chilians claim to be the highest
type of modern civilization on the southern continent. They strove to
ruin whatever they could not steal and carry away with them from Peru,
and, almost incredible to record, they wantonly killed the elephant in
the zooelogical garden of Lima, and purloined the small animals. Noble,
chivalrous Chilians! The rank and file of these people are the very
embodiment of ignorance and brutality. The Chilian soldier carries, as a
regular weapon, a curved knife called a _curvos_, with which he cuts the
throats of his enemies. At close quarters, instead of fighting
man-fashion, as nearly all other nations do, he springs like a fierce
bull-dog at his opponent's throat, and with his curvos cuts it from ear
to ear. After a battle, bands of these fiends in human shape go over the
field, seeking out the wounded who are still alive, deliberately cutting
their throats, and robbing their bodies of all valuables. It is Chilian
tactics to take no prisoners, give no quarter. These brave soldiers
would have burned Lima to the ground after gaining possession, had it
not been for the interference of the foreign ministers, who had national
men-of-war at Callao with which to back their arguments. These
guerrillas--for that is just about what the Chilian soldiers are--knew
full well that if even a small European battalion of disciplined men
were landed and brought against them, they would simply be swept from
the face of the earth.
Lima is laid out with the streets in rectangular form, the central point
being the Plaza Mayor, in the shape of a quadrangle, each side of which
is five hundred feet in length. On the north side of this admirably
arranged square stand the buildings occupied as government offices,
together with the bishop's palace, and the cathedral overshadowed by its
two lofty towers. The corner-stone of this edifice was laid by Pizarro
with great ceremony. The spires, although presenting such an effective
appearance, are constructed of the most frail material, such as bricks,
stucco, and bamboo frames, but still, as a whole, they are undeniably
imposing. In this dry climate they are, perhaps, enduring also. Like the
facade of the church of St. Roche, in Paris, this of the Lima cathedral
is marked by bullet-holes commemorating the Chilian invasion. The church
is raised six or eight feet above the level of the plaza, as is usual in
South America, standing upon a marble platform, reached by broad steps,
well calculated to enhance the really graceful proportions, and add to
the effect of its broad, high towers. The interior is quite commonplace,
with the usual tinsel, poor carvings, and wretched oil paintings,
including several grotesque Virgin Marys. These were too poor even for
the Chilians to steal. Beneath the grand altar rest the ashes of
Pizarro, the cruel, ambitious, reckless tool of the Romish Church. The
cathedral was built in 1540, but has undergone complete repairs and
renovations from time to time, being still considered to be one of the
most imposing ecclesiastical edifices in America. Its original cost is
said to have been nine million dollars, to obtain which Pizarro robbed
the Inca temples of all their elaborate gold and silver ornaments.
According to Prescott, the Spaniards took twenty-four thousand, eight
hundred pounds of gold, and eighty-two thousand ounces of silver from a
single Inca temple! Prescott is careful in his statements to warn us of
the unreliability of the Spanish writers, nearly all of whom were Romish
priests. Where figures are concerned they cannot be depended upon for a
moment. They also took special care to cover up the fiendish atrocities
of the Inquisition, and the extortions of the church as exercised
towards the poor, down-trodden native race.
One's spirits partook of the sombre and austere atmosphere which reigns
at all times in this ancient edifice. It was very lonely. Not a soul was
to be seen during our brief visit to the cathedral at noonday, except a
couple of decrepit old beggars at the entrance, the faint, dull glare of
the burning candles about the altar only serving to deepen the shadows
and emphasize the darkness.
The area of the Plaza Mayor embraces eight or nine acres of land, and
has often been the theatre of most sanguinary scenes, where hand-to-hand
fights have frequently taken place between insurgent citizens and
soldiers of the ruling power of the day, while many unpopular officials
have been hanged in the towers of the cathedral, from each of which
projects a gibbet! The middle of the plaza is beautified by a bronze
fountain with arboreal and floral surroundings. There was formerly some
statuary here, which the brave Chilians stole and carried away with
them, even purloining the iron benches, which they transported to
Valparaiso and Santiago. The streets running from this square, with the
exception of the Calle de los Mercaderes, have an atmosphere of
antiquity, which contrasts with the people one meets in them. Even the
turkey buzzards, acting as street scavengers, are of an antique species,
looking quite gray and dilapidated, as though they were a hundred years
old. In Vera Cruz the same species of bird, kept for a similar purpose,
have a brightness of feather, and jauntiness withal, quite unlike these
feathered street-cleaners of Lima. The "Street of the Merchants," just
referred to, is the fashionable shopping thoroughfare of Lima, where in
the afternoons the ladies and gentlemen are seen in goodly numbers
promenading in full dress.
There is here the usual multiplicity of churches, convents, and
nunneries, such as are to be found in all Spanish cities, though the
latter establishments have been partially suppressed. Some of the
churches of Lima are fabulously expensive structures; indeed, the amount
of money squandered on churches and church property in this city is
marvelous. During the late war many articles of gold and silver,
belonging to them, were melted into coin, but some were hidden, and have
once more been restored to their original position in the churches. The
convent and church of San Francisco form one of the most costly groups
of buildings of the sort in America. The ornamental tiles of the
flooring are calculated, not by the square yard, but by the acre. There
are over a hundred Roman Catholic churches in Lima, few of which have
any architectural beauty, but all of which are crowded with vulgar wax
figures, wooden images, and bleeding saints. These churches in several
instances have very striking facades: that of La Merced, for instance;
but they are mere shams, as we have already said,--stucco and plaster;
they would not endure the wear of any other climate for a single decade.
With all this outside religious show in Lima, there is no corresponding
observance of the sacred character of the Sabbath. It is held rather as
a period of gross license and indulgence, and devoted to bull-fights,
cock-fighting, and drunkenness. The lottery-ticket vender reaps the
greatest harvest on this occasion, and the gambling saloons are all
open. Children pursue their every-day sports with increased ardor, and
the town puts on a gala day aspect. At night the streets are ablaze, the
theatres are crowded, and dissipation of every conceivable sort waxes
fast and furious until long past midnight. The ignorant mass generally
has drifted into observing the rituals of the Romish Church, but there
are many of the native Indians in Peru who cherish a belief of a
millennium in the near future; a time when the true prophet of the sun
will return and restore the grand old Inca dynasty. Just so the Moors of
Tangier hold to the belief that the time will yet come when they will be
restored to the glory of their fathers, and to their beloved Granada;
that the halls of the Alhambra will once more resound to the Moorish
lute, and the grand cathedral of Cordova shall again become a mosque of
the true faith.
The fact that the bull-ring of Lima will accommodate sixteen thousand
people, and that it is always well filled on Sundays, speaks for itself.
At these sanguinary performances a certain class of women appear in
large numbers and in full dress, entering heartily into the spirit of
the occasion, and waving their handkerchiefs furiously to applaud the
actors in the tragedy, while the exhibitions are characterized by even
more cruelty than at Madrid or Havana.