The Andes and the Amazon Part 2

We left Guaranda at 5 A.M. by the light of Venus and Orion, having exchanged our horses for the sure-footed mule. It was a romantic ride.

From a neighboring stand-point Church took one of his celebrated views of "The Heart of the Andes." But the road, as aforetime, was a mere furrow, made and kept by the tread of beasts. For a long distance the track runs over the projecting and jagged edges of steeply-inclined strata of slate, which n.o.body has had the energy to smooth down. At many places on the road side were human skulls, set in niches in the bank, telling tales of suffering in their ghastly silence; while here and there a narrow pa.s.sage was blocked up by the skeleton or carca.s.s of a beast that had borne its last burden. At nine o'clock we came out on a narrow, gra.s.sy ridge called the Ensillada, or Saddleback, where there were three straw huts, with roofs resting on the ground, and there we breakfasted on _locro_. During our stay the Indians killed a pig, and before the creature was fairly dead dry gra.s.s was heaped upon it and set on fire. This is the ordinary method of removing the bristles.

Still ascending, we lose sight of the valley of the Chimbo, and find ourselves in a wilderness of crags and treeless mountains clothed with the long, dreary-looking paramo gra.s.s called _paja_. But we are face to face with "the monarch of the Andes," and we shall have its company the rest of the day. The snowy dome is flooded with the golden light of heaven; delicate clouds of softest hues float around its breast; while, far below, its feet are wrapped in the baser mists of earth. We attained the summit of the pa.s.s at 11 A.M. All travelers strive to reach it early in the morning, for in the afternoon it is swept by violent winds which render it uncomfortable, if not dangerous. This part of the road is called the "Arenal," from the sand and gravel which cover it. It is about a league in length, and crosses the side of Chimborazo at an elevation of more than fourteen thousand feet. Chimborazo stands on the left of the traveler. How tantalizing its summit! It appears so easy of access; and yet many a valiant philosopher, from Humboldt down, has panted for the glory and failed. The depth of the snow and numerous precipices are the chief obstacles; but the excessively rarefied air is another hinderance. Even in crossing the Arenal, a native of the lowlands complains of violent headache, a propensity to vomit, and a difficulty of breathing. The Arenal is often swept by snow-storms; and history has it that some of the Spanish conquerors were here frozen to death. The pale yellow gravel is considered by some geologists as the moraine of a glacier. It is spread out like a broad gravel walk, so that, without exaggeration, one of the best roads in Ecuador has been made by Nature's hand on the crest of the Andes.

It was interesting to trace the different hypsometrical zones by the change of vegetation from Bodegas to this lofty spot. The laws of the decrease of heat are plainly written on the rapid slopes of the Cordilleras. On the hot, steaming lowlands of the coast reign bananas and palms. As these thin out, tree-ferns take their place. Losing these, we found the cinchona bedewed by the cool clouds of Guaranda; and last of all, among the trees, the polylepis. The twisted, gnarled trunk of this tree, as well as its size and silvery foliage, reminded us of the olive, but the bark resembles that of the birch. It reaches the greatest elevation of any tree on the globe. Then followed shrubby fuchsia, calceolaria, eupatoria, and red and purple gentians; around and on the Arenal, a uniform mantle of monocotyledonous plants, with scattered tufts of valeriana, viola, and geranium, all with rigid leaves in the characteristic rosettes of super-alpine vegetation; and on the porphyritic and trachytic sides of Chimborazo, lichens alone. Snow then covers the last effort of vegetable life.[15] The change in the architecture of the houses indicated, likewise, a change of alt.i.tude.

The open bamboo huts, shingled with banana leaves, were followed by warmer _adobe_ houses, and these, in turn, by the straw hovels of the mountain-top, made entirely of the long, wiry gra.s.s of the paramos.

[Footnote 15: According to Sir J. Hooker, among the flowers which adorn the slopes of the Himalayas, rhododendrons occupy the most prominent place, and primroses next. There are no orchids, neither red gentians, but blue. Organic life ceases 3000 feet lower than on the Andes; yet it is affirmed that flowering plants occur at the height of 18,460 feet, which is equivalent to the summit of Chimborazo in point of temperature!

The polylepis (_P. racemosa_) is one of the _Sanguisorbaceae_; in Quichua it is _Sachaquinoa_.]

Leaving the Arenal, we rapidly descended by the usual style of road--stone stairs. But down we went, as all the goods for Quito, "the grand capital," have done since the Spanish Conquest. The old road from Beirut to Damascus is royal in comparison. The general aspect of the eastern slope is that of a gray, barren waste, overgrown with _paja_; but now and then we crossed deep gulleys, whose sides were lined with mosses and sprinkled with calceolarias, lupines, etc. In our descent we had before us the magnificent Valley of Quito, and beyond it the eastern Cordillera. Below us was Riobamba, and far away to the right the deep gorge of the Pasta.s.sa. Nevertheless, this is one of the loneliest rides earth can furnish. Not a tree nor human habitation is in sight. Icy rivulets and mule-trains are the only moving objects on this melancholy heath. Even "Drake's Plantation Bitters," painted on the volcanic cliffs of Chimborazo, would be a relief.

At last we reached our rude accommodations for the night. It was a solitary mud tambo, glorying in the euphonious name of Chuquipoyo. The court-yard was a sea of mud and manure, for this is the halting-place for all the caravans between Quito and the coast. Our room was a horrid hole, dark, dirty, damp, and cold, without a window or a fire. There was one old rickety bedstead, but as that belonged to the lady in our party, the rest betook themselves to benches, table, and floor. We filled our stomachs with an unpalatable potato soup containing cheese and eggs, and laid down--to wait for the morning. Gra.s.s is the only fuel here; but this is not the chief reason why it is so difficult to make good tea or cook potatoes at this wretched tambo. Water boils at 190, or before it is fairly hot: it is well the potatoes are small. The muleteers slept with their beasts outside, though the night was fearfully cold, for Chuquipoyo lies on the frigid side of Chimborazo, at an elevation of over twelve thousand feet above the sea. As Johnson said to Boswell, "This is a dolorous place."

Gladly we left this cheerless tambo, though a cold, heavy mist was falling as we rode northward, over the seemingly endless paramo of Sanancajas. Here, as throughout the highlands of Ecuador, ditches are used for fences; so that, should the traveler wander from the path, he finds himself stopped by an impa.s.sable gulf. In two hours and a half we reached Mocha, a lifeless pueblo under the shadow of Carguairazo. Slowly descending from our high alt.i.tude, we gradually entered a more congenial climate--the zone of wheat and barley, till, finally, signs of an eternal spring were all around us--ripening corn on one side, and blossoming peas on the other.

Late in the afternoon the road led us through a sandy, sterile tract, till suddenly we came in sight of Ambato, beautifully situated in a deep ravine, eight thousand five hundred and fifty feet above the Pacific.

The city ranks next to Quito in beauty. It is certainly an oasis, the green foliage of its numerous shade-trees and orchards contrasting with the barren hills around. It is two degrees warmer than Quito, and is famous for its fruit and fine climate. It is the Lynn of Ecuador, the chief articles of manufacture being boots and shoes--cheap, but of poor quality. It was destroyed by an earthquake in 1698. The houses are built of sun-dried brick, and whitewashed. The streets, with gutters in the centre, are at right angles, and paved, and adorned with numerous cypress-looking trees, called _sauce_, a species of willow. The Plaza, which contains a useful if not ornamental fountain, presents a lively scene on Sunday, the great market-day. The inn is a fair specimen of a public house in Spanish America. Around the court-yard, where the beasts are fed, are three or four rooms to let. They are ventilated only when opened for travelers. The floor is of brick, but alive with fleas; the walls are plastered, but veiled with cobwebs. The furniture, of primitive make and covered with dust, consists of a chair or two, a table, and a bed of boards covered with a thin straw mat. There is not a hotel in Ecuador where sheets and towels are furnished. The landlords are seldom seen; the entire management of the concern is left to a slovenly Indian boy, who is both cook and hostler. No amount of bribery will secure a meal in less than two hours. Ten years ago there was not a posada in the country; now there is entertainment for man and beast at Guayaquil, Guaranda, Mocha, Ambato, Tacunga, Machachi, and Quito.

Riobamba has a billiard saloon, but no inn.

Leaving Ambato, we breakfasted at Cunchebamba, an Indian village of half a dozen straw huts. Thence the road for a long distance winds through vast deposits of volcanic _debris_, the only sign of vegetation being hedges of aloe and cactus. Arid hills and dreary plains, covered with plutonic rocks and pumice dust, tell us we are approaching the most terrible volcano on the earth. Crossing the sources of the Pasta.s.sa, we entered Latacunga,[16] situated on a beautiful plain at the foot of Cotopaxi, seven hundred feet higher than Ambato. Its average temperature is 59. The population, chiefly Indians, numbers about fifteen thousand.

It is the dullest city in Ecuador, without the show of enterprise or business. Not even gra.s.s grows in the streets--the usual sign of life in the Spanish towns. It is also one of the filthiest; and though it has been many times thoroughly shaken by earthquakes, and buried under showers of volcanic dust, it is still the paradise of fleas, which have survived every revolution. Ida Pfeiffer says that, after a night's rest in Latacunga, she awoke with her skin marked all over with red spots, as if from an eruptive disease. We can certify that we have been tattoed without the night's rest. The town has a most stupid and forlorn aspect.

Half of it is in ruins. It was four times destroyed between 1698 and 1797. In 1756 the Jesuit church was thrown down, though its walls were five feet thick. The houses are of one story, and built of pumice, widely different from the palaces and temples which are said to have stood here in the palmy days of the Incas. Cotopaxi stands threateningly near, and its rumbling thunder is the source of constant alarm.

[Footnote 16: This is shortened in parlance to Tacunga. The full name, according to La Condamine, is _Llacta-cunga_, _llacta_ meaning country, and _cunga_, neck.]

From Latacunga to Quito there is a very fine carriage road, the result of one man's administration--Senor G. Garcia Moreno. For many miles it pa.s.ses over an uncultivated plateau, strewn with volcanic fragments. The farms are confined to the slopes of the Cordilleras, and, as every where else, the tumbling haciendas indicate the increasing poverty of the owner. Superst.i.tion and indolence go hand in hand. On a great rock rising out of the sandy plain they show a print of the foot of St.

Bartholomew, who alighted here on a visit--surely to the volcanoes, as it was long before the red man had found this valley. Abreast of Cotopaxi the road cuts through high hills of fine pumice inter-stratified with black earth, and rapidly ascends till it reaches Tiupullo, eleven thousand five hundred feet above the sea. This high ridge,[17] stretching across the valley from Cotopaxi to Iliniza, is a part of the great water-shed of the continent--the waters on the southern slope flowing through the Pasta.s.sa and Amazon to the Atlantic, those on the north finding their way to the Pacific by the Rio Esmeraldas. At this bleak place we breakfasted on punch and guinea-pig.

[Footnote 17: Sometimes called _Chisinche_.]

As soon as we began to descend, the glittering cone of Cotopaxi, and the gloomy plain it has so often devastated, pa.s.sed out of view, and before us was a green valley exceedingly rich and well cultivated, girt by a wall of mountains, the towers of which were the peaks of Corazon and Ruminagui. Loathsome lepers by the wayside alone disturbed the pleasing impression. Three hours more of travel brought us to the straggling village of Machachi, standing in the centre of the beautiful plain, at an alt.i.tude of nine thousand nine hundred feet. Nature designed this spot for a home of plenty and comfort, but the habitations of the wretched proprietors are windowless adobe hovels, thatched with dried gra.s.s, and notorious for their filth.

We must needs make one more ascent, for the ridge of Tambillo hides the goal of our journey. The moment we reached the summit, views unparalleled in the Andes or any where else met our astonished vision whithersoever we looked. Far away to the south stretched the two Cordilleras, till they were lost in the mist which enshrouded Chimborazo and Tunguragua. Turning to the north, we beheld the city of Quito at our feet, and Pichincha and Antisana standing like gallant sentinels on either side of the proud capital. Beautiful were the towering mountains, and almost as delightful now are the memories of that hour. A broad, well-traveled road, gentlemen on horseback clad in rich ponchos, droves of Indians bowed under their heavy burdens, and long lines of laden donkeys hurrying to and fro, indicate our approach to a great city.

Winding with the road through green pastures and fields of ripening grain, and crossing the Machangara by an elegant bridge, we enter the city of the Incas.

CHAPTER III.

Early History of Quito.--Its Splendor under the Incas.--Crushed by Spain.--Dying now.--Situation.--Alt.i.tude.--Streets.--Buildings.

Quito is better known than Ecuador. Its primeval history, however, is lost in obscurity. In the language of Prescott, "the mists of fable have settled as darkly round its history as round that of any nation, ancient or modern, in the Old World." Founded, n.o.body knows when, by the kings of the Quitus, it was conquered about the year 1000 by a more civilized race, the Cara nation, who added to it by conquest and alliance. The fame of the region excited the cupidity of the Incas of Peru, and during the reign of Cacha (1475), Huayna-Capac the Great moved his army from Cuzco, and by the celebrated battle of Hatuntaqui, in which Cacha was killed, Quito was added to the realm of the Incas. Huayna-Capac made Quito his residence, and reigned there thirty-eight years--the most brilliant epoch in the annals of the city. At his death his kingdom was divided, one son, Atahuallpa,[18] reigning in Quito, and Huascar at Cuzco. Civil war ensued, in which the latter was defeated, and Atahuallpa was chosen Inca of the whole empire, 1532. During this war Pizarro arrived at Tumbez. Every body knows what followed. Strangled at Caxamarca, the body of Atahuallpa was carried to Quito, the city of his birth, in compliance with his dying wish, and buried there with imposing obsequies. Refounded by Benalcazar in 1534, Quito was created an imperial city by Charles V. seven years later. It formed part of Peru till 1710; then of Santa Fe till 1722; and again of Peru till its independence. The power of Spain in South America was destroyed at the battle of Ayacucho, Dec. 9, 1824. In 1830 Venezuela separated from Colombia, and Ecuador followed the same year. The first Congress was held in Riobamba; but Quito has ever since been the political focus. The first president was General Flores.

[Footnote 18: The son of his Quito love. The name was first written _Atauhuallpa_, meaning fortunate in war; after the fratricide, he was called _Atahuallpa_, or game-c.o.c.k. He was the Boabdil of this occidental Granada. He is called traitor by Peruvian writers, and is not admitted by them into the list of their Incas.]

Under the diadem of the Incas, Quito a.s.sumed a magnificence which it never saw before and has not displayed since. It was the worthy metropolis of a vast empire stretching from the equator to the desert of Atacama, and walled in by the grandest group of mountains in the world.

On this lofty site, which amid the Alps would be buried in an avalanche of snow, but within the tropics enjoys an eternal spring, palaces more beautiful than the Alhambra were erected, glittering with the gold and emerald of the Andes. But all this splendor pa.s.sed away with the sceptre of Atahuallpa. Where the pavilion of the Inca stood is now a gloomy convent, and a wheat-field takes the place of the Temple of the Sun.

The colonial history of this favored spot is as lifeless as the history of Sahara. Not a single event occurred of which even Spain can be proud; not a monument was raised which reflects any credit upon the mother country. Every thing was prescribed by law, and all law emanated from a tribunal five thousand miles distant. There was no relation of private life with which the government did not interfere: what the colonist should plant and what trade he should follow; where he should buy and where he should sell; how much he should import and export; and where and when he should marry, were regulated by the "Council of the Indies"

and the Inquisition. In the words of a native writer, "The great majority of the people knew nothing of sciences, events, or men. Their religion consisted of outward observances, and an imperfect knowledge of the papal bulls; their morality, in asceticism and devotion to their king; their philosophy, in the subtleties of Aristotle; their history, in the history of the mother country; their geography, in the maps of Spanish America and of Spain; their press, in what sufficed to print bill-heads and blank forms; their commerce, in an insignificant coasting trade; their ambition and highest aspirations, in t.i.tles of n.o.bility; their amus.e.m.e.nts, in bull-fights. The arrival of a mail was an event of great moment, and with ringing of bells was received the _cajon de Espana_ which announced the health of the sovereigns. Thus, while Europe was pa.s.sing through the stormy times of Louis XIV.; while the philosophical writings of the ill.u.s.trious men of those times found their way into the remotest corners of the globe; while the English colonies of North America conquered their independence; while the Old World was drenched in blood to propagate the ideas which the French Revolution had proclaimed, the Presidency of Quito, walled in by its immense cordilleras and the ocean, and ruled by monkish ignorance and bigotry, knew as little of men and events as we now know of men and events in the moon."[19]

[Footnote 19: _Geografia de la Republica del Ecuador, por Dr.

Villavicencio._ This work abounds with erroneous and exaggerated statements, but it is nevertheless a valuable contribution to Ecuadorian literature.]

From an iron despotism which existed for three centuries, Quito pa.s.sed to a state of unbridled licentiousness. Without any political experience whatever, the people attempted to lay the foundation of a new system of government and society. With head and hearts perverted by monkish superst.i.tion and Spanish tyranny, yet set on fire by the French Revolution, what did they know of liberty! Endless civil wars have followed independence. "Political ambition," says a late United States minister, "personal jealousies, impracticable theories, official venality, reckless disregard of individual rights and legal obligations, foolish meddling and empirical legislation, and an absolute want of political morality, form the princ.i.p.al features of their republican history."[20] To-day they tread on the dust of an ancient race whose government was in every respect a most complete contrast to their own.

[Footnote 20: _Four Years among Spanish Americans, by Hon. F.

Ha.s.saurek_: a truthful work, to which we refer the reader for details, especially concerning Ecuadorian life and manners.]

At the foot of volcanic Pichincha, only five hours' travel from its smoking crater, lies "the city above the clouds," "the navel of the world," "magnificent Quito." On the north is the plain of Rumibamba, the battle-field where Gonzalo Pizarro routed the first viceroy of Peru, and the scene, two centuries later, of the n.o.bler achievements of La Condamine, which made it the cla.s.sic ground of astronomy. On the southern edge of the city rises Panecillo, reminding one of Mount Tabor by its symmetrical form, and over-looking the beautiful and well-watered plain of Turubamba. On the east flows the Rio Machangara, and just beyond it stand the Puengasi hills hiding the Chillo valley, while the weary sun goes early to rest behind the towering peaks of Pichincha. So encircled is this sequestered spot, the traveler, approaching by the Guayaquil road, sees only a part of it, and is disappointed; and even when standing on Panecillo, with the entire city spread out before him, he is not wholly satisfied. Buried between treeless, sombre sierras, and isolated from the rest of the world by impa.s.sable roads and gigantic Cordilleras, Quito appears to us of the commercial nineteenth century as useless as the old feudal towns perched on the mountains of Middle Europe. Not a chimney rises above the red-tiled roofs, telling of homely hearths beneath. No busy hum greets the ear; there are bugles instead of spindles, and jingling church bells in place of rattling carriages. The wandering eye does not look for a railroad or a telegraph, for even the highways, such as they are, seem deserted, and, save the music made for soldiers and saints, all is silent. The very mountains, too, with their snow-mantled heads, and their sides scarred by volcanic eruptions and ruptured by earthquake shocks, have a melancholy look. In the words of a great artist, "They look like a world from which not only the human, but the spiritual presences had perished, and the last of the archangels, building the great Andes for their monuments, had laid themselves down to eternal rest, each in his snow-white shroud."

But let us enter. Pa.s.sing the ruined chapel "Del Senor del buen pasaje,"

and crossing by a substantial stone bridge the little Machangara hastening to pay tribute to the Pacific, we leave behind us the dirty, dilapidated suburbs of the capital. Soon we cross another bridge--the Bridge of Buzzards--spanning a deep ravine, and gallop through the Plaza de Santo Domingo. Very different are the sights and sounds from the stir and style of Central Park. The scene has a semi-oriental cast--half Indian, half Egyptian, as if this were the confluence of the Maranon and Nile. Groups of men--not crowds, for there is plenty of elbow-room in Ecuador--in gay ponchos stand chatting in front of little shops, or lean against the wall to enjoy the sunshine; beggars in rags or sackcloth stretch forth their leprous hands for charity; monks in white, and canons in black, walk in the shade of immense hats; shoeless soldiers saunter to and fro; Indians from the mountains in every variety of costume cl.u.s.ter around heaps of vegetables for sale; women in red, brown, and blue frocks are peddling oranges and alligator pears, or bearing huge burdens on their heads; children, guiltless of clothing, and obtuse donkeys, wander whithersoever they will; and water-carriers, filling their jars at the fountain, start off on a dog-trot.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Quito, from the North.]

We cross the Plaza diagonally, pa.s.s down the Calle de San Fernando, up the Calle del AlG.o.don, and through the busy Calle del Correo, till we reach the _Casa Frances_, opposite the mansion of the late General Flores. This is our hotel--owned by a Frenchman, but kept by an Indian.

We ride under the low archway, bowing with ill grace, like all republicans unaccustomed to royalty, tie our beasts in the court-yard, ascend to our s.p.a.cious quarters on the second floor, and, ordering coffee, seat ourselves in the beautiful balcony to talk of Quito and Quitonians.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Water-carriers.]

Quito, though not the highest city on the globe, is two thousand feet higher than the Hospice of Great St. Bernard on the Alps, which is the only permanent place of abode in Europe above six thousand five hundred feet. When Mr. Ha.s.saurek was appointed United States Minister to Ecuador, he thanked Mr. Lincoln for conferring upon him the _highest_ gift in his power. The mean result of our numerous observations with Green's standard barometer places the Grand Plaza nine thousand five hundred and twenty feet above the sea, or fifty feet lower than the calculation of Humboldt. Water boils at 194.5. Cuzco and Potosi may surpa.s.s it in alt.i.tude, but there is not a city in the world which can show at once such a genial climate, such magnificent views, and such a checkered history. It is unique likewise in its lat.i.tude, lying only fifteen miles below the equator; no other capital comes within three hundred miles of the equinoctial line.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Street in Quito.]

Whatever may have been the plan of Quito in the days of Huayna-Capac, it is evident that the Spanish founders were guided more by the spurs of Pichincha than by astronomy. The streets make an angle of forty-five degrees with the meridian, so that not a single public building faces any one of the four cardinal points of the compa.s.s. Two deep ravines come down the mountain, and traverse the city from west to east. They are mostly covered by arches, on which the houses rest; but where they are open, they disclose as fit representatives of the place of torment as the Valley of Hinnom. The outline of the city is as irregular as its surface. It incloses one square mile. Twenty streets, all of them straiter than the apostolic one in Damascus, cross one another very nearly at right angles. None of them are too wide, and the walks are painfully narrow; but, thanks to Garcia Moreno, they are well paved. The inequality of the site, and its elevation above the Machangara, render the drainage perfect.[21] The streets are dimly lighted by tallow candles, every householder being obliged to hang out a lantern at 7 P.M., unless there is moonshine. The candles, however, usually expire about ten o'clock. There are three "squares"--Plaza Mayor, Plaza de San Francisco, and Plaza de Santo Domingo. The first is three hundred feet square, and adorned with trees and flowers; the others are dusty and unpaved, being used as market-places, where Indians and donkeys most do congregate. All the plazas have fountains fed with pure water from Pichincha.

[Footnote 21: The following quotation, however, is true to the letter, and will apply equally well to Guayaquil and to Madrid--the mother of them both: "There is another want still more embarra.s.sing in Quito than the want of hotels--it is the want of water-closets and privies, which are not considered as necessary fixtures of private residences. Men, women, and children, of all ages and colors, may be seen in the middle of the street, in broad daylight, making privies of the most public thoroughfares; and while thus engaged, they will stare into the faces of pa.s.sers-by with a shamelessness that beggars description."--_Ha.s.saurek_.]

Few buildings can boast of architectural beauty, yet Quito looks palatial to the traveler who has just emerged from the dense forest on the coast, "crossing bridgeless rivers, floundering over bottomless roads, and ascending and descending immense mountains." He is astonished to find such elegant edifices and such a proud aristocracy in this lofty lap of the Andes. The Indian habitations which girdle the city have no more architectural pretensions than an Arab dwelling. They are low mud hovels, the scene within and without of dirt and disorder.

As we approach the Grand Plaza, the centre of the city, the buildings increase in size, style, and finish. The ordinary material is adobe, not only because it is cheap, but also because it best resists earthquake shocks. Fear of a _terremoto_ has likewise led to a ma.s.siveness in construction which is slightly ludicrous when we see the poverty which it protects; the walls are often two or three feet thick. The ground floor is occupied by servants, whose rooms--small enough to be called niches--surround the paved court-yard, which is entered from the street by a broad doorway. Within this court is sometimes a fountain or flower-plot. Around it are arches or pillars supporting a gallery, which is the pa.s.sage-way to the apartments of the second story. All the rooms are floored with large square bricks. With few exceptions, the only windows are folding gla.s.s doors leading to balconies overhanging the pavement. The tiled roofs project far over into the street, and from these project still farther uncouth water-spouts, such as used to be seen in Rio Janeiro, but have now been banished to the antiquarian museum. Only three or four private residences rise above two stories.

The shops are small affairs--akin to the cupboards of Damascene merchants; half a dozen modern ladies can keep out any more customers.

The door serves as entrance, exit, window, and show-case. The finest structures cl.u.s.ter around the plazas. Here are the public buildings, some of them dating back to the times of Philip II. They are modeled after the old Spanish style; there is scarcely a fragment of Gothic architecture. They are built of large brick, or a dark volcanic stone from Pichincha.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Palacio de Gobierno--Capitol.]

The Government House, which serves at once as "White House" and Capitol, is an imposing edifice fronting the Grand Plaza, and adorned with a fine colonnade. On its right rises the cathedral; on the left stands the unpretending palace of the nuncio. The former would be called beautiful were it kept in repair; it has a splendid marble porch, and a terrace with carved stone bal.u.s.trade. The view above was taken from this terrace. The finest facade is presented by the old Jesuit church, which has an elaborate front of porphyry. The Church of San Francisco, built by the treasures of Atahuallpa, discovered by an Indian named Catuna, is the richest. It is surmounted by two lofty towers, and the interior is a perfect blaze of gilding. The monastery attached to it is one of the largest in the world, but the greater part of it is in ruins, and one of the wings is used as a barrack. Those unsightly, unadorned convents, which cling to every church save the cathedral, have neutralized nearly all architectural effect.

CHAPTER IV.

Population of Quito.--Dress.--Manners.--Character.--Commerce.--Agriculture.