A VOYAGE TO 



are surrounded by their said memorials. At every 

 step I found something to awaken these reflections. 

 Tiaces of the most rapid decline of this lately flour- 

 ishing and populous town^ every where presented 

 themselves. The greater part of the houses were 

 tumbling down or unoccupied, whole streets were un- 

 inhabited excepting as barracks for the soldiery. In 

 the more frequented streets, few were seen besides 

 soldiers, or perhaps a solitary female dressed in black, 

 stealing along to some chapel to count her beads. 

 There seemed to be little or no business doing any 

 where not even at the pulperias or shops. The town, 

 in fact, looked as if it had experienced the visitation of 

 the plague. During the latter part of our walk, it 

 being the commencement of the siesta, (about one 

 o'clock) the silence in the city was in some measure 

 to be attributed to this circumstance. We observed a 

 number of the lower classes of people, lying across the 

 footways flat on their backs, in the shady side of the 

 houses, with their poncho or rug spread under them; 

 we were obliged to pass round, being unwilling to 

 step over them, from the same kind of apprehension 

 we should feel from a fierce mastiff or bull dog. Hap- 

 pening to peep into a meat shop, I observed a kind of 

 Indian lying on his poncho on the earthen floor, in the 

 midst of myriads of flies, who covered his bare legs, 

 face, and hands, without causing him the slightest un- 

 easiness. These people of whom I have been speak- 

 ing, appeared to have a considerable mixture of In- 

 dian race, judging from their complexion and their 

 lank black hair, which is almost as coarse as the mane 

 of a horse. 



The town still retains every proof of having once 



