Gendering Latin American Independence
List All Links | List Writing | List Archives | List References | List All People

Home » Database » Search » Writing


Letters on Paraguay

Author:

Writing Type: Book

Abstract

He describes the honour of obligations of becoming a compadre, the death of a child and its effect on one family.

Keywords: Robertson, Figueredo family, compadre, custom and rituals of death

Publisher: AMS Press, Inc, New york

Archive: University of Warwick Library

Text: p.148 Letter from William Parish Robertson, Asunción, to Thomas Fair.

Mrs. Figueredo was an active, buxom, and still handsome looking woman, of two or three and thirty, just beginning to get jealous of her oldest daughter, a pretty girl of fifteen. Mrs. Figueredo was almost the only woman in Assumption who had blue eyes ; and on the strength of this fact she considered she had a better right to the friendship of “los Ingleses rubios " than any other person. We were accordingly very intimate with Mr. and Mrs. Figueredo, having a sort of passive and quiescent intercourse with the one, and a more active and lively one with the other.

A message came to me one forenoon from Mrs. Figueredo, requesting an immediate call; when I waited on her, I was ushered into her bed room, where she lay in state. Her daughter sat at the foot of the bed, and a nurse stood respectfully at her side with a babe in her arms. Mrs. Figueredo had blessed her phlegmatic husband with this addition to his (p.149) earthly possessions three days previously to that of the visit to which I was called.

“Don Guillermo," said the lady, sitting up in bed as I entered, "I have a favour to ask of you, which I hope you will not refuse, and which, indeed, you must promise not to deny me before I proceed any further."

“You have a, right, mi Señora Doña E Encarnacion," answered I, “to lay your commands on me in any form you please; and as I know how reasonable ladies always are when left to act without control, I can have no hesitation in promising beforehand to do whatever you desire."

“None of your insinuations," replied Mrs. Figueredo, “but let us to the point. Look there at my little babe, who has so recently seen the light; you see she is ‘una rubia’ (fair complexioned); her eyes are quite blue she looks altogether an Inglesita. Well, I wish you to be her godfather, and I am going to call her Guillerma" (Wilhelmina).

I knew well what an onerous sort of burthen was about to be laid upon me; but of course, with many acknowledgments of the honour which Doña Encarnacion intended for me, I said I should (p.150) only be too happy to have such a charming godchild as the daughter, and too much honoured to be able to call so agreeable a mother my comadre.

Miss Figueredo ran out of the room to her father, who was sitting in his shirt sleeves at the door, very philosophically puffing a cigar as usual, and told him that I was to be his compadre. “Me alegro mucho " (I am very glad of it), said Don Antonio, and went on smoking, apparently pleased that, without any bodily exertion, or mental labour on his part, a knotty point of this kind was so satisfactorily settled.

About three months after I had become a padrino, or godfather, one of my comadre's female slaves came to me, and begged, on the part of her mistress, that I would go to her house that evening, in order to enjoy a little diversion (para divertirme un poco). Obeying the summons, I went to Mr. Figueredo's towards eight o'clock. The worthy old gentleman was sitting with his accustomed serenity under his veranda, smoking, of course, and listening to the prior of Saint Domingo, a native of Buenos Ayres, who was busy with an account of the taking of that city by “el famoso General, Don Guillermo Carr (p.151) Beresford." Walk in, compadre," said my host, rising to receive me “walk in, they are expecting you inside;" and in I walked accordingly, leaving my compadre to the enjoyment of the fresco, of his maté and cigar, and of his loquacious friend the prior.

In the large sala, or drawing room, a curious scene presented itself to my view. Ranged all round it were guests of every description, fat old ladies and slender misses, friars and paycitos (or young gallants), natives of Assumption, compadres and comadres without end; and a great variety of female slaves, sitting at the feet of their respective mistresses. Half a dozen servants were busy handing about cigars, matés, sweetmeats, and wine, to ladies and gentlemen indiscriminately (minus cigars to the misses, who only smoked in private), so the room was redolent of smoke, while the buzz of many voices saluted the ear. A paycito had just finished singing a triste, accompanied by his guitar.

At the head of the room was a blaze of huge wax lights, in candlesticks of carved wood, gilded all over, and of gigantic dimensions. Placed on a species of throne, raised on the (p.152) estrada, was a small coffin, which, as well as the throne, was ornamented with every variety of artificial flowers, tastefully disposed, while the surrounding part of the wall was decorated with rich brocade. Immediately over the head of the coffin was a massive silver figure of our Saviour on the cross ; and in the coffin itself lay, dressed out in the most splendid style, the corpse of my infant god daughter!

Never had I seen death so divested of every attribute repugnant to humanity, never had I witnessed its' solemnity so fairly put down as here. I could have fancied that the King of Terrors, hiding his sepulchral countenance under a mask, and shrouding his skeleton form in the ample folds of a mantle, had stalked into the room, and laid the coffin and its contents on the gay bier, as his contribution to the hilarity of the night; while, under his mask, and unseen by the merry makers, all destined themselves at a future day to be his victims, he “grinned horrible a ghastly smile," and left them for a brief season to their gambols.

I had no time, however, for reflections on the incongruous scene which lay before me; for, a (p.153) soon as Mrs. Figueredo's eye caught my figure in the room, she hastened to me with a brisk step and smiling countenance , Ah, compadre !" said she, ,I'm so glad you have come ; we have been expecting you for an hour: come along, come along," she added, pulling me by the coat, come and see the angel ! "

“But, Doña Encarnacion," said I, as we went along the room, “are you. not afflicted by the loss of' your child?"

“Afflicted!" cried the lady with unfeigned surprise, why should I be afflicted ? Is your little god daughter not converted into an angel? Do you heretics not know that of such is the kingdom. of heaven?' Then, why should I be afflicted ? I am only sorry you have no longer a god child in my family; but never mind, you shall be god father to the next, and then all will he right.',

I might be led “albeit a custom more honoured in the breach than in the observance " to endeavour to assuage, by argument, a mother's excess of grief for the loss of her child ; but to argue my comadre into any such grief would have been rather impertinent. The universally (p.154)instilled, and universally received opinion, that the body of a little child after death was, materially speaking, converted into the body of an angel, I felt no inclination to controvert. It was one of the customs of the country; and the customs of the country I had come to respect, and not quixotically to try to overthrow. As soon as I properly could, however, I retired from the velorio, agreeing previously to assist at the interment the following day.

The funeral was on the same scale of magnificence, and in the same style of oddity as the velorio. First went the band of music of San Francisco, consisting of violins, violoncello, clarionets, and one or two other shrill instruments : then followed the prior of the convent, with a dozen of his brotherhood, and the curate of the parish, and one or two other clerigos: the splendid little coffin, held aloft, came next in the procession: behind it walked my respectable self, the god father, with a great wax candle, four feet long, and proportionably thick, in my hand; with my compadre on my right, and my comadre on my left; and with Miss Figueredo and a Master Figueredo behind me, industriously pulling my (p.155) coat tails, and endeavouring to upset the gravity of my countenance. The rear was brought up by a whole bevy of friends, and relatives, and beatas, and servants, with whom the female population in the streets gradually incorporated themselves as the procession moved along to the cheerful music of the band, and the lusty chanting of the godly friars. The little “angel " was deposited with great pomp in the body of the church: there the funeral ceremony concluded; and the friends, relatives, and assistants returned to the house of Mr. Figueredo, to partake once more of the good things attendant on the velorio and the interment of an “angel.”

Yours, &c.

W. P. R




Gendering Latin American Independence

School of Modern Languages and Cultures
Trent Building, University Park
Nottingham, NG7 2RD


telephone: +44 (0)115 951 5655
email: Catherine.davies@nottingham.ac.uk