Dolores

“WHAT a pretty girl!” exclaimed Antonio, seeing a group on horseback passing through the middle of the square in the village of N***[1], just then arrived to take part in the local festivities, appointed for the following day.

Antonio González had been a fellow student and my favorite friend from my youth. Upon saying goodbye at university, both of us having obtained the degree of Doctor, he offered to visit my town during the parish festivals, and accordingly had arrived the day before at N***. Looking for amusement, and finding everything interesting, with the enthusiasm of early youth, we were overseeing the construction of the barriers in the square for the bullfight happening the next day. It was then that, like I said before, there passed a party on horseback, in the midst of which stood out, like a precious lily in the middle of a field, the most beautiful flower of the district: my cousin Dolores.

“What I admire the most,” added Antonio, “is the complexion, so white and delicate, as it is rarely to be found in this hot climate of ours.”

Indeed, Dolores’ jet-black eyes and hair contrasted with her blushed complexion and her crimson lips.

“You are right,” exclaimed my father, who was standing next to me, “her complexion is foreign to our climate… My God!” he added with some emotion a moment later, “I never thought of it before!”

Neither Antonio nor I understood the exclamation of the old man. Years later we would remember the impression that vague fear made on us, which seemed so strange…

My father was the physician of N***, and would have been noted for his practical science and his charity in any other village more civilized than ours. Contrary to the general custom of parents, he had always wanted me to study medicine, in the hope, as he expressed himself, that I might one day excel him in the profession.

An only son, satisfied with my own luck, pampered by my father, and well loved by a large family, I had always felt happy in my lot. I was then at N*** temporarily, to arrange some matters of business and soon be able to finalize my union to a young lady whom I had met and fallen in love with in Bogotá.

Of all my relations, my aunt Juana, a very respectable and wealthy lady, had always been the most attached to me. She had protected and taken care of me from childhood, since the death of my mother. Dolores, the daughter of a deceased sister, having lost both father and mother, had also lived with her for many years. And so Aunt Juana divided her affections between her favorite niece and nephew.

When we had arrived at an age to think of the subject, it became palpable to Dolores and myself that our union was a cherished object of our good aunt; but human nature often prefers the difficult to a beaten path, and it became tacitly understood between us that our attachment should be purely fraternal. I think that a desire to render our union impossible had its influence in inducing me to betroth myself in Bogotá, without vacillation and while I was still a college student without prospects. Considering then Dolores as a sister, from my first entrance into college I wrote to her frequently, recounting the incidents of my college life, and afterwards of my hopes as an engaged young man.

This short explanation is necessary to comprehend the simple relation that existed between us.

After remaining in the square for some time, we went home. My father’s house was situated a short distance from the village; but as the celebration was to commence with fireworks in the evening, Antonio and I set to return in time to see the popular amusement.

The moon illuminated the landscape. A warm, delicious breeze fanned the trees, wafting the perfume of innumerable flowers. The smaller birds, disturbed by the moonlight, we heard in gentle murmurs, while the philosophic owl, always taciturn and upset, set forth his hoarse and ominous complaint.

Antonio and I had to cross a paddock and the main road before reaching the square in N***. As we walked, we conversed joyfully about our hopes and prospects, for to youth the future always symbolizes happiness and fulfilled expectations. Antonio had selected the arduous but brilliant profession of the law, which, from his clear talent and natural eloquence, promised him a bright future. I proposed, after a few years of study and practice under a physician of repute, to marry, and settle in my native village to enjoy the quiet life in the country. It must be acknowledged that N*** was nothing more than a big village, despite the anger that the name inspires in its inhabitants, since it had now all the paraphernalia of a great city: a mayor, justices, judges and the rest of any local government. Unfortunately, all of these caused the village countless inconveniences. It was like a poor countrywoman who has gone all her life barefoot, with short petticoats, being put into tight boots, corset, and crinoline.

As we came closer to the village, the silence of the country changed to boisterous hilarity: one could hear singing to trebles and bandolas, loud cries and laughter, sometimes a rocket announced that the fireworks were about to begin. The square presented a merry sight. In the middle of the enclosure for the bullfight of the following day, castles made of straw and oil-lamps that needed to be rekindled over and over again had been collected. For the time, the manufacturer of the show was the most interesting man in the place; all the children followed him in admiration of his science, anxiously listening to the orders and advice given to his assistants as to the order and manner of lighting the castles and firing the rockets masterfully.

Antonio and I arrived at Aunt Juana’s house which, being situated on the square, was the best in town. At the door, and seated upon basket chairs placed along the front wall, were many of the local young ladies, talking and laughing, while their mothers and respectable ladies were inside the house, discussing graver matters, such as infirmities, provisions, and maids. Cachacos[2] from the village and from other places who had been to the festivities, passed up and down in front of the doorway without daring to approach the young ladies, who reveled in their kingdom and their charm without revealing the interest with which they regarded the young men.

I approached the feminine phalanx full of spirit, certain to be well received; first, because I had just come from Bogotá, a great recommendation in the provinces; and second because I knew myself to be among friends and relations. I introduced my friend to the party gathered both inside and outside of the house, and, taking chairs with us, we proceeded to join the conversation of the young ladies outside.

The fireworks commenced soon after: the vacaloca, the buscaniguas[3],and other popular games, set the whole crowd in motion with noisy merriment. The smoke of powder partially obscured the light of the moon, which had hitherto shone so poetically upon the scene. The castles burnt out one after another amid the joyous cries of the multitude. After a few minutes, a stringent bang was heard and the fireworks closed with a volley of red lights accompanied by the suffocating quantity of smoke: this signaled that the end of the fireworks, and the crowd moved slowly away in various directions, all agreeing that the show had been most brilliant and entertaining, although the opposite could have been proven to them, by making them think about their fatigue, sore feet, torn dresses, and small burns; on such occasions the imagination is apt to exceed the reality.

I then proposed that the party collected at Aunt Juana’s should make a tour round the square.

The feminine troop formed in column, and the unfair sex, scattered like guerrillas, circled around them. Sympathy is always inexplicable: in a short time Antonio and Dolores got together, and a lively conversation ensued.[4] The square was filled with tables, and all sorts of lottery games were going on: bisbis, pasadiez, cachimona, etc., for those who would try their luck for the modest sum of a quarter. At other tables and under awnings some had drinks of all kinds: chicha de coco, guarapo, anisette, mistela, and even brandy and wine, not of the purest, however. Others found the ideal of their aspirations on succulent stews, ajiacos, roasted turkeys, and lechonas filled with garlic and cummin-seed. Farther on were horchatas, naranjilla, blackberry and pineapple juice, corn and rice guarruz, presented in bottles covered with little clusters of carnations or roses. Sponge cakes covered with white batter or cinnamon, eggs chimbos, candied fruit, cocadas, panderos, and small arepas in a variety of shapes; the whole assortment of sweets concisely known as “collation” was spread out on trays of various colors and sizes, in rows on coarse but clean table linen.

Here and there were groups of people singing popular airs to the music of treble guitars, alfandoques and carrascas, going from place to place wherever guarapo or brandy was to be found, singing always, but never changing the languid, melancholy tone of the refrain, while improvising curious verses. This way they pass the whole night, singing, dancing and drinking continually, but never smiling, always in a lugubrious tone. Extremes meet, and the ne plus ultra of civilization is insensibility. The famous Lord Chesterfield[5] counselled his son that he should never be seen to laugh; and that gravity with real or apparent insensibility is a universal characteristic of the savage.

Suddenly  we heard the chilling, sharp, unmusical sound of the chirimia, which drowned out all other noises.

“The festivities have begun!” everybody shouted joyfully.

*

[1] The author uses the initial N to refer to towns whose names she does not want to specify. In the 2021 edition of the novel published by Ediciones Uniandes, Carolina Alzate speculates that this could be referring to a town near Natagaima, currently in Tolima. She also noted that, at the time, universities were in the capital, Bogotá, and well-positioned young men went there to get education. Transportation was difficult, so students sometimes spent years abroad.

[2] A cachaco was a young man in 19th-century Bogotá. Elegant and gentlemanly, he was different from the period’s “dandy” because he was not particularly thought of as overly concerned with his appearance. I have chosen to leave the term in the original Spanish because it was also used to mean traditional men from Bogotá, making it only of the city.

[3] The vacaloca (literally, “crazy cow”) was a popular 19th-century firework display in Colombia: a cow-shaped frame covered in fireworks, carried or chased through the crowd. Children played with buscaniguas, small chasing firecrackers that darted unpredictably across the ground.

[4] The following paragraphs contain an assortment of popular Colombian 19th-century table games, food, drinks, and music instruments. To define them I followed Alzate, who in turns follows the Nuevo diccionario de americanismos, the Diccionario de bogotanismos, and the DLE; plus general knowledge.

[5] Lord Chesterfield was an English statesman and writer (1694, 1773), author of Letters to His Son and Letters to His Godson, celebrated for their wit, elegance, and daring style (Alzate).

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From Dolores by Soledad Acosta de Samper. Used with permission of the publisher, Cita Press. Translation copyright © 2026 by Sara Abadía Alvarado.