# Pictures of life in Mexico/Volume 1/Chapter 11

Contents
CHAPTER XI.
A PRIEST'S ESTABLISHMENT.
Being entrusted with a communication, from a friend in a distant city, to Father Perez de Hermona, an ecclesiastic residing in Puebla, where I was staying, it was not without a lively feeling of curiosity that I looked forward to the necessary interview.
The father's house was in the pleasantest part of the city, at a considerable distance from the manufactories; it was approached by an avenue of luxuriant trees, and the painted balconies filled with flowers, with the shrubs trained against the parti-coloured walls, gave it an air of brightness and loveliness.
​At the entrance of the court-yard stood a globose carriage, decorated with the usual allowance of gilding and glass, with the ponies harnessed, and postilion ready to mount them. On seeing this, I was about to retreat; under the impression that his reverence was going out; but recollecting that such preparation was but the usual custom of the country, I entered the court-yard, and knocked at a rather low side-door. It was opened by a swarthy domestic, who received me very graciously, and bade me follow her to an apartment where I could await the holy father's coming. I was led through an anteroom, and up two flights of stairs lighted with stained glass; when on arriving at the top of the second flight, and opening a door, I was somewhat surprised to find myself in the open air.
We were on the azotea, or flat roof, so generally belonging to good houses in Mexico, and used as a cool and pleasant retreat, particularly in the evening. Two-elegantly attired young ladies—whom I ascertained to be the priest's daughters—were on the roof; but becoming aware of the presence of a stranger, they retreated, with some show of precipitation, through a doorway opposite. They ​appeared blooming and handsome; and their demeanour was modest and dignified. The azotea was cool, and open only on one side: flowering shrubs were trained upon the wall; beautiful flowers in pots and vases were ranged around; and a small fountain played in the centre—its waters sparkling in the softened light, and imparting a welcome freshness to the spot. Besides chairs and seats, there were two crucifixes placed in separate corners; while several rudely-painted figures occupied allotted spaces at short intervals. The whole exhibited an air of luxury, almost approaching to elegance.
Crossing the azotea, my conductor showed me into an apartment on the opposite side, where I was left alone, to await the arrival of the reverend ecclesiastic. The room was expensively decorated, and, at first sight, very splendid; indeed, its effect would have been perfectly gratifying, were it not for numerous little indications of a semi-barbarous taste observable in the quality of the workmanship, and, occasionally, in the style of decoration. Some attempts at flower-painting were visible on the walls, but the colours were too crude and violent; and the pattern of the floor-cloth ​was rich; but grotesquely incongruous. A well-shaped table occupied the centre of the room; but its surface, though polished, was rough and uneven; a gilt frame-work surrounded the window, and a large mirror shone upon one of the walls, together with some rudely coloured pictures of the saints. A beautiful couch, with chairs and cushions, occupied the other side. There were a few books and richly gilt missals upon the table and on two shelves. Small gilt images were stationed here and there upon the walls; while large stone ones, awfully chiselled, were stowed into every corner.
Altogether, the establishment—judging from what I had seen of it—was one of the most rudely luxurious and magnificent in the city.
After waiting a most unreasonable time, the dignified and reverend ecclesiastic entered the apartment. He received me with marked favour and condescension: but as I neither bowed the knee, nor humbly requested his blessing in reply, his manner soon became more cold and distant. His look was restless and piercing; and the prevailing expression of his countenance, cunning and suspicious. His features were rather handsome than otherwise, ​apart from their sinister aspect—but they appeared to bear down on one another; his chin projected over his throat unusually; the corners of his mouth were inclined downwards upon his chin; his nose kept downward sentry over that; while his eyebrows and the corners of his eyes were bent downwards, also, in a very remarkable manner. His speech was affable and conciliatory; but I could not delude myself into the belief that it was sincerely so.
Father Perez de Hermona was a wondrously inquisitive man. When our first salutations were over, he straightway proceeded to question me respecting my residence in the city; my object in visiting the country; my pursuits in general, and my religion in particular; of my political opinions; of my residence in America; and, finally, of my native England. I endeavoured to reply to his inquiries with due deference and politeness, and as distinctly as possible; concluding by a gentle inquiry as to his own opinion on the prospects and politics of Mexico, and on the state of education and civilization throughout the country. This, however, did not do at all! It was very well for his reverence to question ​me, but as to my presuming to do more than reply—it could not be thought of for a moment! A deep shade, in consequence; fell upon the father's brow.
Not exactly knowing what to do next at this juncture; unless it were to take my hat and my departure, my eye fell casually upon one of the large, coarsely-cut, stone imagoes standing in a corner of the room at my right hand. It was a lugubrious representation of some ancient saintly martyr, in modern pantaloons! on which said pantaloons were sculptured large and impressive drops of blood and water, proceeding from the agonised countenance. My gaze only rested on this singular object for one moment, and then I once more innocently regarded the priest.
Such a diabolical change surely never passed over human lineaments before, as showed itself in that priest's face in so short a space! Whether he had traced any irreverent expression in my countenance, I cannot say: he had seen nothing intentionally contemptuous in my demeanour towards the image, I feel quite sure. However this may have been, his aspect was so changed, that I felt a strong inclination to sketch him on the spot, for an ​impersonation of Judas Iscariot, or one of Milton's fallen angels.
He spake not a word; but rising from the couch on which he had been seated and glaring on me even more like an enraged demon than before; he pointed imperiously to the doorway!