TRANSCRIBED FROM THE DAILY ARKANSAS GAZETTE SEPTEMBER 29, 1918 P. 4
The natives here are a slow moving, peaceful race. They take a long time to build a house, but when they get it built, it generally stays there a while. All of the buildings here are of stone or stucco mud. A house is not good till it is 100 years or so old. And, believe me, there are quite a few here that old.
I was through one of them yesterday. It is not what you would call very, very old as it was built in 1609. It is an old Jesuit church, still in use. When you look at it from the outside, it looks like an old and tumbled down building. The columns around the door were chiseled from stone, and were made in one piece, but the wind and water have worn them in places so that they look more like a honey comb than the smooth pillar they once were.
We did not go in by the main entrance, but by a side door leading up a flight of stairs. I looked out the window on the second floor and was surprised to see a garden growing in an inclosed court. Yes, an open air court on the second story of a building, trees growing around with trunks eight and ten inches in diameter. This was evidently at one time the priests’ private court, and it contained a bathing pool.
After giving the upper rooms a “once over,” we were carried down to the first floor at the rear of the building. One thing you will notice in all the old churches, mother, is that they were built for defense as well as worship, all the windows are barred on the ground floor, and there are plenty of loop holes. Not the kind you would expect, but the kind the old castles had for firing arrows, long and narrow, with the long way vertical. From the outside you have a look at a narrow opening anywhere from three to six inches wide, while from the inside it looks like a large V, with the open end toward you.
But there was a surprise ahead of us. We were carried into a room where the walls were covered with old paintings of a religious nature. All the clothing of the priests who died while serving in this church is kept in this room, and some of it is certainly pretty, the finest cloth that could be bought, and all the vestments lined with velvet.
After spending a while there, we were shown into the church proper. Mother, you have seen some wood carving, but you have never seen anything to compare with what I saw there. The walls were covered with carved wood, in fact, there was not a single piece of wood in the entire room that was not carved. Back of the alter from the floor to the roof, clear across the room, was one solid mass of carving, all made into a great design. From the carved figure, holding a carved vase, on each side, to the carved niche at the roof every kind of flower, fruit or animal is represented. It happens now that once in a while some part of the carving falls off from age, and they cannot put it back, for to do so would break off a lot more, so they keep the pieces in a large basket. I looked at some of them, and they are certainly well done and true to life. I noticed a rosebud, and every petal was carved as carefully as if it were to be painted and passed off for the real rose.
NOTES: This partial letter was written by William Otto Wells to his mother, Mrs. A. S. Wells, of Little Rock, Arkansas. He was born on January 23, 1898 in Louisiana and died on November 1, 1986 in Green County, Indiana. He departed from Ponta Delgoda, Azores Islands on August 8, 1919 and arrived at Hoboken, NJ on September 4, 1919. He is buried in the Fairview Cemetery in Center, Indiana. His military headstone identifies him as a Pvt US Marine Corps, serving in World War I.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT
The natives here are a slow moving, peaceful race. They take a long time to build a house, but when they get it built, it generally stays there a while. All of the buildings here are of stone or stucco mud. A house is not good till it is 100 years or so old. And, believe me, there are quite a few here that old.
I was through one of them yesterday. It is not what you would call very, very old as it was built in 1609. It is an old Jesuit church, still in use. When you look at it from the outside, it looks like an old and tumbled down building. The columns around the door were chiseled from stone, and were made in one piece, but the wind and water have worn them in places so that they look more like a honey comb than the smooth pillar they once were.
We did not go in by the main entrance, but by a side door leading up a flight of stairs. I looked out the window on the second floor and was surprised to see a garden growing in an inclosed court. Yes, an open air court on the second story of a building, trees growing around with trunks eight and ten inches in diameter. This was evidently at one time the priests’ private court, and it contained a bathing pool.
After giving the upper rooms a “once over,” we were carried down to the first floor at the rear of the building. One thing you will notice in all the old churches, mother, is that they were built for defense as well as worship, all the windows are barred on the ground floor, and there are plenty of loop holes. Not the kind you would expect, but the kind the old castles had for firing arrows, long and narrow, with the long way vertical. From the outside you have a look at a narrow opening anywhere from three to six inches wide, while from the inside it looks like a large V, with the open end toward you.
But there was a surprise ahead of us. We were carried into a room where the walls were covered with old paintings of a religious nature. All the clothing of the priests who died while serving in this church is kept in this room, and some of it is certainly pretty, the finest cloth that could be bought, and all the vestments lined with velvet.
After spending a while there, we were shown into the church proper. Mother, you have seen some wood carving, but you have never seen anything to compare with what I saw there. The walls were covered with carved wood, in fact, there was not a single piece of wood in the entire room that was not carved. Back of the alter from the floor to the roof, clear across the room, was one solid mass of carving, all made into a great design. From the carved figure, holding a carved vase, on each side, to the carved niche at the roof every kind of flower, fruit or animal is represented. It happens now that once in a while some part of the carving falls off from age, and they cannot put it back, for to do so would break off a lot more, so they keep the pieces in a large basket. I looked at some of them, and they are certainly well done and true to life. I noticed a rosebud, and every petal was carved as carefully as if it were to be painted and passed off for the real rose.
NOTES: This partial letter was written by William Otto Wells to his mother, Mrs. A. S. Wells, of Little Rock, Arkansas. He was born on January 23, 1898 in Louisiana and died on November 1, 1986 in Green County, Indiana. He departed from Ponta Delgoda, Azores Islands on August 8, 1919 and arrived at Hoboken, NJ on September 4, 1919. He is buried in the Fairview Cemetery in Center, Indiana. His military headstone identifies him as a Pvt US Marine Corps, serving in World War I.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT