Boundaries of the Peruvian Republic.—General appearance and climate of the coast.—Seasons divided into Wet and Dry.—Vegetation.—Lunar influence.—Enervating effects of the climate of Lima. Modern Peru is bounded on the north by the Republic of the Equator; on the south by the Republic of Bolivia; on the east by the Portuguese territories, or Brazil; and on the west by the Pacific Ocean. The coast of the Republic of Peru extends along the shores of the Pacific from the river Loa, which is the southern boundary that divides it from Bolivia, to the river Tumbez, which divides it on the north from Guayaquil, or the Republic of the Equator. All this extent of coast, from 3° 30´ to 21° 30´ south latitude, Many of these rivers are dried up for several months in the year; while others, of larger size, carry a perennial stream, swelling during the rainy season in the inland country, and are never seen to shrink so much in time of drought in the elevated regions from whence they spring, as not to supply the means of irrigating and beautifying the maritime vales through which they flow as they approach the ocean. It is remarkable that, while along the coast of Peru the eye wearies in looking at sandy plains and hills, we no sooner pass the river Tumbez than the face of nature changes: in the former range all looks arid and scorched; in the latter country all is verdant and sappy. The coast of the Equatorial Republic presents to the eye well-wooded plains; The temperature of the low valleys on the coast of Peru may be said in general not to exceed 82° of Fahrenheit in summer, nor to descend much under 60° in winter. In Lima, the capital of Peru, neither the extremes of heat nor of cold are ever experienced; In winter, the thermometer of Fahrenheit never, in the centre of the town, falls under 60° in the shade; and, during summer, we have never seen it rise above 82°,—its usual station being about 80° in well-aired apartments. The ordinary difference between the fall of the night and day thermometer is only from three to four degrees when the thermometer is placed inside a common barred window without glass, and opening into a veranda or corridor, such as is usual in Lima houses, for the sake of free ventilation. In the sultry month of February, the thermometer, if placed on the open and flat-roofed house-top of mud plaster, rarely ascends above 112°; and at this season, when the hot noon-day air may be said to be fanned by the countless “gallinazas,” or vultures, that wheel and sweep in mid-sky, the canopy overhead is curtained with white light clouds that happily protect the city and its inhabitants from the too scorching beams of a tropical sun. The hygrometer—Leslie’s—seldom indicates fewer than 12° or 15° in the wet season, and rarely exceeds 50° in the summer months. The range of the barometer may be considered exceedingly limited; for, during the period of six months that we had the opportunity of observing barometrical variations, the mercury was commonly stationary at 29?/10, and was not seen to fall below 29½ inches. Our means of observation began in On one occasion when we observed the barometer fall from 29?/10 to 29½ inches, there had been a smart earthquake, which, though it happened in the usually dry month of January, was preceded by a gentle shower of rain, at the appearance of which the people in the streets rejoiced, and called it “agua bendita,” holy water!—On another occasion, when we noticed a similar sinking of the mercury, the river Rimac showed by its turbid and swollen stream that it rained heavily in the higher mountains. In Lima the four seasons are by no means distinctly marked: the dry summer weather frequently encroaches on the autumnal season, Hence, though the seasons are usually distinguished into spring, summer, autumn, and winter, it would be more truly characteristic to adhere to the usual division of the aborigines, into wet and dry. In May the mornings become damp and hazy; and, from the beginning to the latter end of June, more or less drizzly. In October, again, the rains, which even in the months of July and August are seldom heavier than a Scotch mist, cannot be said to be altogether over, as the days are still more or less wet, or occasionally there may be seen to fall a light and passing shower; the evenings and mornings being damp and foggy. In November and December, when the dry season may be reckoned to have set Throughout summer the wind blows almost uniformly, and in gentle breezes, from the south; but the prevailing wind for nine months in the year is the south-west, which, as it mingles with the warmer air along the arid coasts of Peru, tends to moderate the temperature of the atmosphere, and to produce the fog and “garua,” or thick Scotch Whoever, late in August, or early in September, has had the good fortune to visit Buena Vista in the enchanting vale of Lurin, By the end of September, or beginning of Barley, peas, and maize, sown during the wet or misty season, come to maturity through the joint operation of sun and artificial moisture after all natural or spontaneous vegetation has withered and disappeared from the now arid hills and sandy downs. In the valleys around Lima the agriculturist is very careful not to sow in the creciente, lest the seed should become so diseased and injured as never to yield a healthy crop. The same attention to lunar influence is bestowed by the wood-cutter, who knows that timber cut in the creciente soon decays, and on this account is not of use for constructing houses, or for any other permanent purpose; this is particularly the case with the willow and alder, as the writer had once occasion to know experimentally. Being disinclined to believe what he considered to The “arriero,” or muleteer, scrupulously attends to the influence of the moon on his cattle; for if he travels in the creciente, and in a warm or even temperate climate, he takes strict care not to unsaddle his riding-horses, nor to unpad his cargo-mules, until they have rested awhile and cooled sufficiently: and, if he should neglect these precautions, he would be sure to have his cattle disabled by large inflammatory swellings, rapidly running on to suppuration, forming on their shoulders or loins. In short, the very “chalan,” or horse-jobber, If it be asked what general influence such a climate as we have now described may have on the animal frame, we would answer that there appears to be something peculiarly enervating and degenerating, aggravated by the total neglect of sanitary police, in the state of the atmosphere and locality of Lima. This effect is observable in the dog species, which becomes sluggish and spiritless, and more disposed to bark than to bite; but it We commonly see the son of the brave and stately Spaniard dwindle away from the strength of frame and manly character of his progenitor. His mind, like his person, becomes petit-maÎtre; and, though vivacious in youth, it continues through life to be more distinguished for readiness than power, for mobility than vigour. |