The Magicks of Maestro Presbiterio Cemetery
· 9 min. read
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There are four types of magicks in Peru: black, white, red, and green, all of which can be found within The Maestro Presbíterio Cemetery.
When I started this article, I wanted to write about the history of The Maestro Presbíterio Cemetery in Lima. The cemetery is not only the oldest cemetery in Peru, but also in South America, dating back to 1808. It was an alternative to the stifling catacombs that sprawl beneath the city’s streets. Since its inception, there have been many controversies about the cemetery, starting with the first burial of Archbishop Juan Domingo Gonzales de la Reguera in 1808 and continuing when Norka Rouskaya “profanated” the cemetery with her nude performance of Chopin’s Funeral March in 1917.
But in the spirit of Halloween, I didn’t want to write an essay about a cemetery’s history. That will come at a later time when I have more chance to dig into the names and places of people whom I am still learning about. There are over 250,000 bodies interned in The Maestro Presbíterio Cemetery and to only share a handful of half-researched stories would be a disservice.
So, instead, I would like to talk about the hauntings, or magicks, of the cemetery. There are many, such as that of Blessed Mary of the Cross and of the Light (Blessed María De la Cruz y De la Luz) or Ricardo Espiell (el niño Ricardito), of whom both are said to perform miracles from beyond the grave. But there are sinister stories that occur in the cemetery too – ones that make Rouskaya’s performance the least of their concerns.
I have done my best to research these stories, but in the spirit of Halloween, I felt it would be appropriate to tell them a different way than usual. Instead of my typical blocks of text, these stories will be shared via a new means: poetry.
However, I am not a poet, so please do not judge me too hard, and try your best to enjoy them.
Black Magick – The Bad Witch
Gregoria Camacho was a witch, so they say
For she traded her soul to the devil one dark day
But she was a woman, and one day she died
And her body was placed outside the cemetery to reside
For two days it sat, unnoticed by all
Many perceived her to be a drunk who had taken a fall
The groundskeeper found her and wheeled her in
But that was when the troubles began to begin
The groundskeeper placed a marker on the grave
One of Virgen de las Angustia, to bless the enclave
But the next day it was found as a shattered stone
So the groundskeeper placed another marker of Christ, alone
But once again it shattered and fell to the floor
So the groundskeeper had one last idea to implore
He placed down a marker of a skull and crossbones
And thus, it lasted there forevermore
Many still visit Camacho, to this very day
Some shamans, some witches; the dark arts they do play
Often can be seen chocolates or bread
Or black candles and pentagrams so often spread
One story goes about a shaman looking for guidance
His client had fallen in love with a child, a carnal misguidance
The witch appeared before him and gave him a potion
To cure his client of the sinful emotion
The shaman took it and delivered it as told
And the man drank it, hoping for his problems to resolve
Instead of salvation, his bones began to break
His ears began to bleed and his tongue began to shake
After three long days, he finally died
Cured of the perverted motions he once had inside
The witch believed her actions would bring salvation to she
But instead, she still rots, with no salvation to be
White Magick – The Good Witch
Emilia Montanez Torres liked to play little games
Like conjuring spirits up from the grave
She used an ouija board, and the rules she would obey
And she would do little parlor tricks, day by day
But one day the spirit did not say goodbye
And latched onto Emilia like a stubborn fly
For four days she was tormented by an entity within
She shook, and shuttered; chances of sleep were grim
Finally, she died, and peace was restored
Only seventeen and gone; a child no more
Her family asked a sculptor to make
A marker to mark her in her innocent state
Yet the sculptor signed the stone, not by he
But she
For her soul had no living host to be
Alas, her body was occupied by another, sinister entity
So a second grave was made for the soul to rest
A black grave with no name, below the rest
Red Magick – The Prisoner’s Grounds
There is a part of the cemetery where no man treads
For the ground is poison and the air is dead
This is where convicts and criminals reside
Below the earth, without any pride
It is here the toxins of their soul and body
Taint the ground and make it unholy
But people still visit, dark intentions in their eyes
And they make sacrifices of the black canine kind
They spew the visceral over the soil
And ask for evils that would make man’s blood boil
These criminals, their actions, for which they have paid
Are forced to respond, and assist as they may
This area is cursed, and many avoid it
For the evils corrupt even the holy writ
Green Magick – The Childish Elves
Back in the day, when the cemetery was smaller
On the corner stood a brick watch tower
The stories say that the guards would proclaim
Of little people in fig tree trees that would come out to play
Who they were though, they did not know
They were elves; a mischievous foe
Yet these were not the elves that we know and love
But a menace for those guards above
So the guards cut down the trees, and the elves vanished
Until years later when the cemetery walls expanded
This area of the cemetery is now where the unconsecrated lie
Children who were not children, for too early they died
Without the blessing of the lord,
They turned into elves; their souls ignored
And now they play pranks on those they abhor
For there is no longer a fig tree for them to adore
Thank you for reading my poems about The Maestro Presbíterio Cemetery. I promise, one day I will write more about this incredible place and the people within. There are a lot of stories here, and I have a lot of research left to do. If you’d like to read more about the cemetery, I recommend the Facebook page Amigos Del Presbítero Maestro or going on a tour of the cemetery, if you’re ever in the area.
Until next time my ghosts and ghouls, Happy Halloween!
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Categories: Dark Tourism, Paranormal, Peru, Remote Year, Travel Tips
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