33322	----	OBSERVATIONS ON THE PRESENT STATE OF THE AFFAIRS OF THE RIVER PLATE. BY THOMAS BAINES. "Malheur au siècle, témoin passif d'une lutte héroïque, qui croirait qu'on peut sans péril, comme sans pénétration de l'avenir, laisser immoler une nation." CHATEAUBRIAND. LIVERPOOL: PRINTED AND PUBLISHED AT THE LIVERPOOL TIMES OFFICE, CASTLE STREET. 1845. OBSERVATIONS ON THE PRESENT STATE OF THE AFFAIRS OF THE RIVER PLATE. The destructive war which has now been waged for so many years, by the Chief of the Province of Buenos Ayres against the Republic of Uruguay, involves questions of so much importance to the commercial interests, and to the national honour of England, that nothing can account for the very slight attention which it has received from Parliament and the press, except the fact that many of the principal considerations connected with it have never yet been fully brought before the British public. In order to supply this deficiency, and to show how much it concerns the character of this country that this war should at once be brought to a close in the only manner in which it can be ended; that is, by the prompt and decided interference of the Governments of France and England, I have thought that it might be useful to lay before the public the following observations and documents, explanatory of the principles involved in the war; of the conduct pursued by Mr. Mandeville, the British Minister to the Argentine Confederation, at the most critical period of its progress; and of the strong and rapidly-increasing interest which this country, and more especially the port of Liverpool, has in the preservation of the threatened independence of the Republic of Uruguay. Most of the readers of these remarks are no doubt aware that the Province of the Banda Oriental, or eastern bank of the River Plate, was first constituted an independent state, under the title of the Republic of Uruguay, at the close of the war between the Argentine Confederation and the Empire of Brazil, in the year 1828. This arrangement was in a great measure brought about by the good offices of Lord Ponsonby, the Ambassador of the British Government to the Court of Rio, and the result of his negociations was so agreeable to the English Government, that the peace thus concluded was made a subject of congratulation in the speech from the throne in the year 1829. The principal object in forming this new Republic was, to put an end to the destructive war between Buenos Ayres and Brazil, originating in the claims put forward by both these countries to the possession of the Province of the Banda Oriental. The Brazilians, who had had possession of it for several years, were naturally unwilling to have so warlike and powerful a state as the Argentine Republic on their most vulnerable frontier, and the Argentines were not less unwilling to have the Brazilian frontier pushed more than a hundred leagues up the River Plate, and within the limits of the ancient Viceroyalty of Paraguay, which had for ages been occupied by the Spanish race. As the only effectual solution of these difficulties, the English Government proposed that the Banda Oriental should be rendered independent of both countries, and this, after some negociation, was agreed to by all the parties concerned. The primary object of the mediation of the English Government was the re-establishment and preservation of peace and amity between two nations, with both of which England had valuable commercial relations; and this object has been completely gained by the arrangement then effected. During the sixteen years which have elapsed since the treaty was concluded, no serious difference has occurred between Brazil and the Argentine Confederation, nor is any likely to occur so long as the barrier of an independent state is interposed between them. It is only during the last two years that serious discussions have arisen between them, and these have originated in the fears of Brazil, lest the successes of the Buenos Ayrean army, now before Monte Video, should be such as to break down the barrier established by the Ponsonby treaty, and again to bring the Buenos Ayreans on the frontiers of Rio Grande. From apprehension of this event, the Brazilian Government has allowed General Paz, with his military staff, to pass through its territory to place himself at the head of the Correntino insurgents, who have risen against Rosas, and made common cause with Monte Video; it has also recalled Admiral Grenfell, its commander in the River Plate, as well as its diplomatic agent at Monte Video, for engaging in an ill-timed quarrel with the Monte Videan Government; and if the Buenos Ayrean army should succeed in gaining possession of the city of Monte Video, it will in all probability, whether backed or not by England and France, decide to take part in the war, rather than allow General Rosas to succeed in the designs which he now avows on the Republics of Uruguay and Paraguay, the two bulwarks of the western provinces of the Brazilian empire. Notwithstanding the recent victories of the Brazilian General, Baron Caxias, over the rebels of Rio Grande dó Sul, that province is still in a very unsettled state--far too much so to be safely exposed to the machinations of such dangerous neighbours as Generals Rosas and Oribe. It may, therefore, be confidently expected, that if the great naval powers do not interpose, the progress of events will again bring on a war between Brazil, strengthened by the army of Uruguay, under General Rivera, that of Corrientes under General Paz, and the forces of Paraguay on one side; and Buenos Ayres on the other, backed by those other provinces of the Argentine Confederation, which still follow the fortunes of General Rosas. What the result of such a war would be no one can predict, but its first consequence would be another blockade of Buenos Ayres, by the Brazilian fleet, its next the reinforcement of the garrison of Monte Video by a detachment of Brazilian troops, and its probable final result, after the whole of the countries engaged in it had been thoroughly ruined, the establishment of the ascendancy either of the government of Buenos Ayres, or of that of Brazil at Monte Video. This would be alike opposed to the wishes and the interests of the Monte Videans themselves, to the interests of a large portion of South America, and to those of the nations trading with it. A small Independent State, like the Republic of Uruguay, governed as it has ever been since the date of its independence on the most liberal commercial principles, is the best of all checks on the commercial illiberality of the neighbouring countries, and is much too valuable to be sacrificed by the Government of any commercial nation which has at heart the prosperity of its subjects. If it should be said that neutral nations have no right to interpose between belligerents, even for the purpose of preserving the national independence of the weaker, I answer, that no longer since than last year, the Government of this country was prepared to have interposed, if it had been necessary, in order to preserve the independence of the Empire of Morocco; and that the Government of France fully admitted the right of England to do so in such a case, by giving a promise beforehand that it would not use its victory either to conquer the territory or to destroy the independence of the offending state. The reason why England was prepared to resist the conquest of Morocco was, that such a conquest would have seriously endangered her interests and influence in the Mediterranean; and one principal reason why she should interfere to prevent the conquest of Monte Video by the army and squadron of Buenos Ayres is, that such a conquest would jeopardise her valuable commerce and her influence in the River Plate, the only outlet of regions larger than all the great Kingdoms of Western Europe united. Brazil has the same right to interpose that Austria would have to resist the conquest of Sardinia, or Prussia the conquest of Belgium, by France. Many advantages have resulted both to the commerce of foreign nations, and to the prosperity of the people of Uruguay, from the recognition of its independence both of Buenos Ayres and Brazil, which were not anticipated at the time when it was established, the whole of which, as we shall show, will be lost if it is allowed to be absorbed by or placed in dependence on Buenos Ayres. Amongst these advantages are the following:-- The creation of an Independent State on the eastern bank of the River Plate has given the commercial nations of Europe trading with those vast countries of South America, whose only means of intercourse with the rest of the world is through that River, a greatly increased security against being again cut off from communication with them, as they were during the Brazilian blockade, in the years 1825, 6, and 7. At that time, both banks of the river were involved in the war, the city of Monte Video being in the hands of the Brazilians, and the Province which now forms the Republic of Uruguay being in arms against them. The consequence of this state of things was, that the whole of the countries watered by the great rivers Parana, Paraguay, Uruguay, and their innumerable tributary streams, as well as the provinces of Buenos Ayres and Monte Video, were cut off from all communication with Europe for nearly three years, and that the great commerce which even then was carried on by England and other nations with those countries, was for the time destroyed. Some notion may be formed of the inconvenience which this country alone sustained from the blockade of the river, from the following facts. In the years 1822, 3, 4, and 5, the four years preceding it, the average annual value of the exports from England to the River Plate, was £909,330, whilst in 1826, 7, and 8, during the blockade, it fell to £279,463, and in 1827, to £150,000, and even that small remnant of trade was carried on by vessels which broke the blockade. At a subsequent period, namely, in the years 1838-9, and 40, there was again a blockade in the River Plate, established by France, a power much more capable of making a blockade respected than Brazil, but as the east bank of the river was no longer under the control of Buenos Ayres, which was the power against whom the blockade was directed, the evils resulting from it were comparatively small. Foreign ships were still able to proceed to Monte Video, (thanks to the independence of Uruguay), and thus, although one line of intercourse with the interior was cut off by the blockade of the port of Buenos Ayres, the other up the river Uruguay was kept open. In consequence of this, the evils of the blockade were, in a great measure, confined to the city of Buenos Ayres and its immediate neighbourhood, for the eastern bank of the river flourished more than ever, the communication with the interior was never closed, and the commerce of the nations trading with those countries continued to increase. When it is considered (and it ought never to be lost sight of,) that the commerce of foreign nations with the whole of the central regions of South America depends entirely on the keeping open one or other of these lines of communication, it will be seen that it is a matter, not merely of national but of universal importance, though in an especial manner to England, to maintain the entire independence of Monte Video of Buenos Ayres, so as to diminish as much as possible the danger of both being closed at the same time and by the same political events. We say the entire independence of Monte Video, for though the nominal independence of the country might be preserved, even if the Buenos Ayrean army, under General Oribe, should get possession of the city of Monte Video, that officer would be compelled to lean on General Rosas for support to protect him against the majority of his fellow countrymen, who are now in arms against him quite as much as the chiefs of the Banda Oriental were in 1826, 7, and 8, compelled to lean on Buenos Ayres for protection against the arms of Brazil; and to follow the fortunes of Buenos Ayres in any war in which General Rosas might involve himself, either with Brazil or any of the nations of Europe. This would again be fatal to the trade of the River Plate. It is not generally known, although it is very important that it should be, that this trade amounted in 1842, including both imports and exports, to upwards of Three Millions sterling, at the port of Monte Video alone. It is still, however, in its infancy, and requires nothing but a few years of peace, with the introduction of steam navigation on the Parana, the Uruguay, and their tributaries,[A] to give it an extension which will render it of vital importance to the merchants and manufacturers of England. The Parana and the Paraguay, together, are known to be navigable to Assumption, which is fifteen hundred miles above Buenos Ayres, to vessels drawing nine feet water, and there is every reason to believe that both those rivers might be navigated a thousand miles higher by iron steamers, such as those recently built at Birkenhead, by order of the East India Company, for the navigation of the Indus and the Sutlej, the former of which, when carrying guns and troops, draw only four feet water, the latter of which, when loaded in the same manner, not more than two and a half. The Uruguay is equally navigable for several hundred miles to the Salto Chico, (the little leap), and if a short canal was cut, to turn that rapid and the much more formidable one of the Salto Grande,[B] it would be navigable for many hundred miles above the Falls. Several of the tributaries of these gigantic streams are larger than the Rhine, the Elbe, or the Tagus, and great numbers of them than the Thames or the Mersey, and the whole of this vast net-work of waters is connected with the still more stupendous river of the Amazons, by a short portage to the Madeira, one of the principal tributaries of that king of rivers. The natural products which these unrivalled lines of river communication might be made the means of bringing to the ports on the Rivers Plate and Amazons are varied and inexhaustible. In addition to the large supplies of hides, wool, tallow, and provisions, which these countries now furnish, Paraguay and Corrientes are capable of supplying the finest timber for ship-building purposes, sugar the growth of free labour, the best kinds of tobacco, cotton-wool, dyewoods, drugs, the tea of Paraguay, and the precious metals from Bolivia and the back provinces of Brazil. It is now only twenty or thirty years since steam navigation was introduced on the Mississippi, and the consequence of its introduction has been an extension of cultivation and population such as the world never before saw. The natural resources of the great valleys of the Parana, Paraguay, and Uruguay, merely require to be developed by the same means to make Monte Video and Buenos Ayres as flourishing as New Orleans, and to make the commerce of the River Plate rival that of the Mississippi. It is perhaps vain to hope that anything will induce the present Governor of Buenos Ayres to abandon the suicidal policy which is at once impeding the intercourse with the interior, and depriving that city of the principal benefits of its unrivalled position, but this only renders it the more necessary to keep open the only other course, namely, that through the Uruguay, by which the resources of these vast countries can be brought into activity. For another of the great advantages which has resulted from the independence of Monte Video, has been the opening of a new channel for the commercial intercourse between Europe and the central states of South America, in peace as well as in war; and this channel the Monte Videan Government has laboured to improve and keep open, as zealously and as successfully as the Buenos Ayrean Government has laboured to narrow and impede the old ones. The Buenos Ayrean Government has been warned repeatedly by its warmest friends of the consequences which would result from its illiberal commercial policy; but they might just as well have reasoned with the winds; for, the only effect of the contrast between the rapidly increasing prosperity of Monte Video and the declining state of Buenos Ayres, has been to excite the most deadly hatred and jealousy towards Monte Video on the part of the Buenos Ayrean Government, and a settled determination to drag down that rapidly improving city to its own level. The following sketch of the commercial policy of the two countries will show what have been the principal causes of the prosperity of Monte Video, and what of the decline of Buenos Ayres; and also how strong a claim the policy of the former gives it on the sympathy and support of this country. A large portion of the revenue, both of Monte Video and of Province of Buenos Ayres, is raised by taxes on the importation of foreign goods, and the rate of duties is not excessive in either case. It is not on this account that any one complains of the Buenos Ayrean Government, but because it confines foreign commerce to the single port of Buenos Ayres, and excludes both foreigners and foreign vessels from the other ports of the Confederation, as strictly as the Chinese formerly excluded them from every port except Canton. This it is able to effect by its command over the entrance to the river Parana, the direct route to Entre Rios, Corrientes, and the other provinces of the Confederation. Whilst the provincial Government of Buenos Ayres thus excludes all foreign vessels from the Parana, and as far as its control extends from the Uruguay, it claims the right to expend the whole of the customs' revenue raised at Buenos Ayres. The upper provinces very naturally consider this unjust, and insist on having either a share of the revenue collected at Buenos Ayres (somewhat on the principle adopted amongst the states of the German Zollverein), or on having a general Congress of all the provinces of the Confederation to decide how the money shall be distributed. This General Rosas and his adherents refuse, and this refusal, coupled with the equally positive refusal of the same parties to allow foreign vessels to ascend the river, is one principal cause of the frequent wars between the states of the Argentine Confederation on the banks of the river and the Government of Buenos Ayres, one of which is now raging between it and Corrientes. In this way the commerce with the interior is continually interrupted. The policy of the Monte Videan Government is in every respect the reverse of this, for it not only throws open the ports of Monte Video, Maldonado, and Colonia, on the River Plate, but those of Soriano and Paysandú, on the Uruguay, the Yaguaron, on the Laguna Merin, and the dry port of Taquarembó on the Brazilian frontier to all the world, and thus gives every part of the republic all the advantages of foreign commerce. There is a still greater difference, if it is possible, in the policy adopted by the two governments with regard to the transit trade. At Monte Video goods may be landed without the payment of any duty, may be there deposited in the Custom-house stores for any length of time, on the payment of a smaller warehouse rent than is usually paid in Liverpool, and may be sent to any of the independent countries in the interior, or re-shipped to foreign parts, without the payment of a dollar. The Government goes even further than this, for it allows goods in transit to be conveyed through the whole territory of the Republic, with a guia or Custom-house Permit to all parts of the frontier, and to be forwarded into the Argentine provinces of Entre Rios and Corrientes, into the Republic of Paraguay, and into the back provinces of the empire of Brazil, perfectly free from duty. Hence goods are constantly forwarded up the Uruguay, instead of going to Buenos Ayres to pay duty to General Rosas. The natural consequence of this is, that the people of all the adjoining states have a friendly feeling towards Monte Video. Corrientes has several times risen against the connection with General Rosas, in support of Monte Video, and Brazil is prepared, if necessary, to interfere to save it from his grasp. In fact, it is quite evident that nothing but an entire change of policy on the part of Buenos Ayres can prevent a general war against its usurpations. The policy of Rosas with regard to goods in transit to the Independent States of the interior is altogether different from that of Monte Video, for, when landed at Buenos Ayres, they pay the same duties as if they were intended for consumption there, and not a sixpence, or what is less than a sixpence, a Buenos Ayrean paper dollar, is ever returned. When goods are intended for re-exportation by sea, the difference is in appearance less, but much the same in reality, for whilst they can be landed at Monte Video without paying any duty, can remain there as long as the owners like, and can then be re-exported duty free, at Buenos Ayres they cannot be landed without paying the full duties, their owners lose all claim to have any part of those duties returned, if they are not re-exported within six months, and it is only with the greatest difficulty and after waiting many months that they obtain any return at all, even if they are exported within that time. A similar contrast is also seen in the spirit in which the Governments of Buenos Ayres and Monte Video treat the diplomatic agents of foreign nations. Soon after the death of the Dictator Francia, the English Government determined to send a diplomatic agent to the Republic of Paraguay. This gentleman, Mr. Gordon, first landed at Buenos Ayres, hoping to be allowed to proceed up the Parana to Assumption, the capital, but he soon found that it was no part of General Rosas's policy to allow any such communication. The consequence was, that after remaining at Buenos Ayres for some time combatting the pretences under which permission was refused, he found that there was no hope of his being allowed to proceed to the seat of his mission, through the countries subject to the dominion of General Rosas, and crossed over to Monte Video. There he was received with every attention, and furnished by General Rivera with a guard of honour, under whose escort he travelled to the frontiers of Paraguay. Mr. Gordon's letter of acknowledgement to General Rivera will be found in the Appendix, and it would be difficult to find a stronger illustration of the opposite spirit of the two Governments than is presented by this transaction. Not Francia himself was ever more determined to cut off Paraguay from communication with the rest of the world than is General Rosas, and the key to his conduct is, that he is determined, if possible, to reduce the people of that Republic to subjection to his authority. No longer since than the 15th of January last, a long article appeared in the official _Gazette_ of Buenos Ayres, censuring the Governments of Brazil and Bolivia for recognizing the independence of Paraguay. In addition to all these advantages arising out of the independence of the Republic of Uruguay, it ought to be mentioned that the Government of Monte Video has preserved an undepreciated silver currency through all its difficulties, whilst the Buenos Ayrean Government has issued such masses of paper without ever redeeming it, that the Buenos Ayrean paper dollar is not worth more than 4-1/4d. at the present time. The other states of the Argentine Confederation positively refuse to take the Buenos Ayrean paper money, but foreign merchants are compelled to take it, or to dispose of their goods by barter, which is seldom possible. The consequence of the liberal commercial system adopted by Monte Video, aided by the excellence of its situation has been to raise that city, in fourteen years, to the position of one of the first commercial places in America, as will be seen from the following summary of the export and import trade in 1842, the year before the commencement of the siege:-- EXPORTS. 638,424 Hides, salted $2,553,696 780,097 Hides, dry 2,340,291 60,904 Hides 91,356 100,583 Skins of Sheep 201,706 111,801 (arrobas) Tallow 223,602 4,444 (tons) Bones 31,108 2,690 (arrobas) Mares Oil 4,035 26,462 (arrobas) Hair 79,386 946,955 Horns 28,408.5 96,540 (arrobas) Wool 144,810 3,341 (dozens) Skins of Sheep 6,682 8,019 (quintals) Garras 8,019 1,109 (tons) Ashes 8,872 18,198 (arrobas) Fat 36,396 424 (dozens) Skins of Nonatos 848 938 Ditto Nutria 2,345 513,641 (quintals) Meat 1,540,923 121 (barrels) Tripe, salted 726 150 (barrels) Meat 1,200 2,065 (boxes) Candles 6,195 170 (dozens) Tongues 170 470 Mules 9,400 2,380 (lbs.) Ostrich Feathers 892.4 ------------ Value of Exports $7,321,066.1 Value of Imports on which duty was paid $9,237,696 ------------- How much this extensive trade has increased since the establishment of the independence of Monte Video, will be seen from the following statement of the increase of British shipping from 1830 to 1842:-- BRITISH SHIPPING. Years. Ships. Tonnage. Men. 1830 41 7480 425 1831 36 6418 387 1832 30 5577 324 1833 51 9377 541 1834 65 12339 664 1835 54 10571 573 1836 58 11121 628 1837 63 12874 708 1838 100 20800 1143 1839 103 21257 1147 1840 132 23821 1447 1841 159 34537 1788 Up to the 6th of September, 1842, 128 British vessels had arrived at Monte Video during that year. COMPARISON OF THE COMMERCE OF MONTE VIDEO AND BUENOS AYRES. Number of merchant vessels arrived at the Ports of Monte Video and Buenos Ayres during the half-year ending June 30th, 1842:-- Monte Video. Buenos Ayres. National 16 0 Brazilian 54 17 American 48 31 Chilian 1 1 British 115 47 French 52 20 Spanish 44 17 Sardinian 76 14 Portuguese 4 2 Hamburgh 14 8 Danish 17 12 Austrian 6 0 Swedish 9 8 Belgian 3 1 Bremen 3 3 Prussian 6 0 Russian 1 1 Hanoverian 1 1 Lubeck 2 0 Norwegian 3 2 Tuscan 1 1 --- --- 475 186 --- --- Great as this trade is, there is no reason why its future increase should not be as rapid as its past. There are at present several millions of cattle roving over the boundless pastures watered by the Uruguay, the Rio Negro, the St. Lucia, and the two hundred arroyos or rivulets which flow into them, and with a few years of peace, this number would be doubled, or if it was found more profitable, flocks of sheep might be introduced instead. The repeal of the duty on foreign wool, by the Act of 1844, gives additional encouragement to the raising of this kind of stock, and the reduction in the duty on foreign provisions made by the tariff of 1842, would, if this country was at peace, throw a considerable portion of the provision trade created by that reduction of duty, and at present monopolized by the United States, into Monte Video. Enormous quantities of meat are now wasted, which it might be worth while to prepare for this market, in a way suited for the English taste. Pastoral countries, such as the territory of Uruguay, New South Wales, Van Dieman's Land, and South Africa, have this great advantage over arable countries that their resources can be developed much more rapidly, with a much smaller amount of labour, and with much less capital. This is one of the causes of the sudden rise of the trade with Australia, and it is also a considerable cause of the rapid development of the prosperity of Monte Video. Its power of producing hides, wool, tallow, and provisions is unlimited, by any thing except the deficient numbers of its population; and whilst on this subject, I may mention that Monte Video is the only one of all the Republics formed out of the ancient possessions of Spain which has been sufficiently well governed to attract to its shores any considerable number of emigrants from Europe. It will be seen from the following table extracted from the books of the Custom House at Monte Video, that not less than 33,607 emigrants arrived in that port between November, 1835, and December, 1842:-- _Table made from the books at the Sala de Comercio of the number of passengers who arrived at Monte Video from Nov. 1835 inclusive, to the end of 1842._ KEY: A: Basques, from both sides of the Pyrenees. B: Frenchmen. C: Gallicians. D: Catalanes. E: Spaniards from Cadiz, &c. F: Genoese. G: Canarios. H: Portuguese and Brazilians. I: Miscellaneous. J: Total. ----+-------+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------+-----+-----+----- | A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J ----+-------+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------+-----+-----+----- 1836| 1116 | 56 | ... | 94 | 112 | 365 | 744 | 782 | 331 | 3600 ----+-------+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------+-----+-----+----- 1837| 348 | 72 | 101 | 485 | 310 | 175 | 949 | 454 | 223 | 3117 ----+-------+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------+-----+-----+----- 1838| 1939 | 71 | 85 | 264 | 284 | 645 | 2320 | 294 | 177 | 6079 ----+-------+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------+-----+-----+----- 1839| 233 | 69 | 141 | 64 | 53 | 202 | ... | 160 | 111 | 1033 ----+-------+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------+-----+-----+----- 1840| 1107 | 80 | 106 | 107 | 58 | 727 | ... | 316 | 122 | 2623 ----+-------+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------+-----+-----+----- 1841| 3965 | 121 | 408 | 104 | 92 | 2552 | 365 | 101 | 111 | 7819 ----+-------+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------+-----+-----+----- 1842| 4968 | 227 | 502 | 143 | 293 | 2123 | 774 | 140 | 166 | 9336 ====+=======+=====+=====+=====+=====+======+======+=====+=====+===== | 13676 | 696 |1343 |1261 |1202 | 6789 | 5152 |2247 |1241 |33607 ----+-------+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+------+-----+-----+----- Of this large number of emigrants, 13,676, it will be seen, were from the Basque provinces; 696 from France; 3806 from Spain; 6789 from Genoa; 5152 from the Canary Islands; 2247 from Portugal and Brazil, and 1241 from other parts of the world. If, as has been said by one of our greatest writers, there is no worse sign of the condition of a country than the fact of large masses of its subjects leaving it, surely it must be considered an equally strong proof of the goodness of a Government and the resources of a country when great masses of foreign emigrants are pouring into it. In this respect, Monte Video stands pre-eminent above all the States of America, except those founded by the British race, and considering the limited extent of its territory, and the short period of its independent existence, it can scarcely be said to yield to them. Having thus shown the grounds on which the Government and people of Monte Video are entitled to the sympathies and support of England, I shall now proceed to say a few words on the present disastrous position of the affairs of that Republic. For the last two years, the city of Monte Video has been besieged by an army composed almost entirely of Buenos Ayrean troops, commanded by General Manuel Oribe, the expatriated President of Uruguay, who claims to be the legal President of the Republic, and whose avowed object is to overturn the present Government, and to seize on supreme power for himself, and blockaded by sea by a Buenos Ayrean squadron, commanded by William Brown, a British subject in the pay of General Rosas. If the army of General Oribe was composed of Monte Videans, England could have nothing to say in this matter, as his success would be merely the substitution of the chief of one native party for another; but this is not the case. Oribe has neither army, fleet, nor treasures of his own, and owes every thing to General Rosas as absolutely as if he was a Buenos Ayrean citizen. To allow him, therefore, to get and to retain possession of Monte Video, would be to establish the authority of Buenos Ayres on the east bank of the river as effectually as on the west, and this I have already shown would be most injurious to the interests of England, of Brazil, and the other adjoining States, as well as to Monte Video itself, and to the upper States of the Argentine confederation. Whatever might be the wishes of General Oribe, it is evident that he would have no chance of retaining power any longer than he made himself agreeable to General Rosas. In the city he has a considerable number of supporters amongst the shopkeepers and a few amongst the merchants, but in the country, the landed proprietors and gauchos or peasantry are all opposed to him, and are enrolled in the armies of General Rivera, or his lieutenants. When President, he was besieged and deposed by this class, against which the mere townsmen can effect nothing. If he got possession of the city, he would not be able to raise such a native force as would sustain him. He must, therefore, retain the Buenos Ayrean army in his pay, or he could not stir a mile from the walls without being attacked by the army of Rivera. Hence he would continue in a state of dependence on General Rosas for many years, if indeed he ever became entirely independent of him. Thus, it will be seen, that this is not a struggle to decide whether Oribe or Rivera shall be chief of the Republic, but whether the Republic shall remain independent or become subservient to the will of its bitterest enemy. If the will of General Rosas should thus be allowed to become the law of Monte Video, the prosperity of that country is at an end. A very large revenue would be required for the support of the Buenos Ayrean mercenaries, and it is not at all unlikely that Rosas, who confiscated the property of the whole of the Unitarian or Centralist Party to pay the expense of a former civil war, would insist on the repayment of the whole, or at least of a part of the expenses of the present war, in carrying on which the finances of Buenos Ayres have been brought to the verge of ruin. To raise the money required for these purposes, there are only two ways; the first, the confiscation of the property of Oribe's opponents; the second, a great increase of the taxes on foreign imports. The first of these measures would destroy all the best connections of the English merchants, and ruin all the most respectable men in the Republic, whilst the second would quite as effectually destroy its foreign commerce. It is by no means certain, however, that even the name of independence would long be left to Monte Video, if General Oribe should succeed. General Rosas would, in all probability, soon grow tired of supplying troops and money to support another man's authority, whilst General Oribe's necessities would compel him to submit to anything which his patron might propose, even if he went the length of proposing the annexation of Monte Video to Buenos Ayres, in humble imitation of the annexation of Texas to the United States. The last letters from Monte Video state, that Oribe has been getting together, at the Buceo, all the members of his former Legislative Assembly, who had followed him to Buenos Ayres or joined him there, and with their aid he will soon form an assembly quite capable of performing any act which it may suit his convenience to have performed. With such materials we shall scarcely fail to have a repetition of the annexation of Texas on the banks of the River Plate, whenever it may suit the plans of General Rosas and the necessities of General Oribe to effect it. It is not, however, merely on grounds of policy and humanity that England is called upon to interfere in this contest, but it is bound to do so by the distinct pledges of assistance given by Mr. Mandeville, the English Minister at Buenos Ayres, to the Government of Monte Video, in the name of his own Government. In December, 1842, at the most critical period of the war, that gentleman formally announced, both to the Governments of Monte Video and Buenos Ayres, that England and France had determined to put an end to the war, and demanded that they should both cease from hostilities.[C] Not content with this, he addressed an official letter to Senor Vidal, the Secretary of State to the Republic of Uruguay, urging him and his Government not to relax, but rather to redouble their efforts to resist the Buenos Ayreans, until the arrival of the assistance which, he stated, might be expected daily from Europe.[D] The letters of Mr. Mandeville will be found in the appendix to this pamphlet, and it will be for the public to decide whether promises so distinct and emphatic, accompanied by exhortations so strong, do not justify the Government of Monte Video, and the merchants trading with that country, in calling on the British Government to fulfil the engagements of its representative. Indeed it is impossible that the Government of England can allow Monte Video to be taken and plundered, the leading men of the Republic to be murdered or driven into exile, and the Republic itself to be annihilated, without destroying the high reputation which England has so long possessed in all those countries for honour and uprightness. That these consequences will be justly chargeable either on the Representative or the Government of this country, if Monte Video should be taken, is evident from a consideration of the circumstances under which Mr. Mandeville gave his promises and his urgent recommendation quoted above. The letters containing them were written in the period which intervened between the total defeat of the Monte Videan army at Arroyo Grande, and the advance of General Oribe and the Buenos Ayrean forces on that city. When they were given, the Monte Videan Government was in a state of the utmost uncertainty as to whether further resistance would not be a useless waste of human life, and whether it could have any other effect than to render its own position more desperate. The infantry of Rivera, the only force up to that time available for the defence of the city was destroyed, and the cavalry was broken, and discouraged, besides being totally useless for the purpose of resisting a siege. Within the city were a considerable number of Oribe's supporters, and many neutrals, including nine-tenths of the foreign population. At this critical moment the letters of Mr. Mandeville, given above, were written, and it is the opinion of those who were at Monte Video at the time, that it was those letters which induced the Government to forego all attempts at negotiation, and to call upon the whole population to rise and resist to the last. With this view, besides calling on those classes of the people which had previously taken part in the struggle, to rally round the Government, it declared all the negro slaves in the Republic free, and formed them into regiments of infantry for the defence of the capital, and it also gave every encouragement to the foreign population which had emigrated for the purpose of following the pursuits of peaceful industry, to take up arms. By these means, an army of some thousand men was formed within the city, chiefly from classes not before compromised, whilst in the open country, the landed proprietors and peasantry, were encouraged to take arms again under the command of their favourite chief Rivera. Thus the war was renewed, and the whole population of the Republic was again engaged in a struggle which, from the great disproportion of the forces, nothing but the promised intervention of England and France can bring to a close which will not be fatal to them. My object in referring to these facts is not to excite odium against Mr. Mandeville, who could have had no object in making the promises contained in his letters of the 28th December and 12th of January, except that of preserving the independence of Monte Video, until the forces which he expected from Europe had arrived. In a previous letter, quoted in the Appendix, he positively refused to give any such promises without the permission of his own Government; and in his letter of the 12th of January he bases his promises of aid to the Monte Videan Government on this assertion:--"THE INTERVIEW BETWEEN THE BRITISH AMBASSADOR (at Paris) AND GUIZOT TOOK PLACE ON THE 9TH SEPTEMBER, WHEN HE AGREED TO ALL THAT LORD COWLEY PROPOSED OF UNITING THEIR FORCES TO PUT AN END TO THE WAR." I will not suppose, even for the sake of argument, that an English Minister made such a statement as the above without believing it to be true, still less that he made it for the sake of exciting fallacious and unfounded hopes in the minds of men struggling for existence. He must have believed his own assertions, and he must have had some strong, if not conclusive reasons for believing them. It is just as little my wish to cast odium on the English Government as on Mr. Mandeville. Its foreign policy in other parts of the world has been wise, dignified, and honest, and all that is asked is that it will act on the same principles in this transaction. No one can doubt that it is sincerely desirous of restoring peace in the River Plate. The reason which Sir Robert Peel gives for the non-fulfilment of Mr. Mandeville's promises is that he had exceeded his orders in giving them. That there was a mistake somewhere or other cannot be doubted, though whether it arose from want of explicitness in the directions given to Mr. Mandeville or from want of comprehension on his part no one is in a position to decide, except those who have seen them. What, however, is perfectly clear is this, that the promises given by him to the Monte Videan Government and the assurances given by him to his own countrymen have had a most important influence on their conduct, and have so far compromised the British Government as to add greatly to the other many and strong reasons for interposing. It is no longer a question of whether an independent Government, formed under the mediation of England shall be sacrificed, and along with it the peace which it has so long been the means of preserving between two of the most important states of South America, neither is it a mere question of whether the commercial intercourse with the finest regions of that great continent shall be carried on without impediment; it is not now even a question of whether a friendly Government shall be destroyed and all connected with it ruined; these considerations, great as they are, yield to the consideration that the honour of this country has been pledged by its authorized representative, and that promises have been given which cannot be violated without deep disgrace to the hitherto unsullied honour of the English name. * * * * * POSTSCRIPT.--Since the above observations were written, explanations have been given by the Prime Minister in Parliament which encourage us to hope that her Majesty's Ministers have at last decided to fulfil the promises made by their late representative Mr. Mandeville, by taking effectual steps to terminate the war, and to secure the independence of the Republic of Uruguay. They have only to speak the word, and to make such a display of force as will show that they are in earnest, and Monte Video is saved. Admiral Brown, or as Commodore Purvis calls him, "Mr. Brown, the British subject, commanding the Buenos Ayrean squadron before Monte Video," will never run the double risk of being sunk by an English broadside, or of being hung as a traitor by resisting the orders of his own Government, if he is convinced that his Government means to be obeyed, and the moment that he strikes his flag, Oribe will have nothing left but to make the best terms for himself and his army. He draws all his provisions from the fleet, and must retire when his supplies are cut off. Within the last few days information has been received from Buenos Ayres strongly confirmatory of some of the views stated above. According to letters from that city of the 7th February, the Governments of Brazil and Paraguay have formed a treaty offensive and defensive, in which they stipulate for the freedom of the rivers flowing through the territories of both. This is a movement of the greatest commercial as well as political importance, and if the independence of Monte Video is preserved, there can be no doubt that it will join this league, and that the line of communication with the interior of South America up the River Uruguay will be kept open, even if General Rosas should persist in his illegal anti-social policy of closing the Parana against foreign nations. FOOTNOTES [A] The Monte Videan Government has granted a patent for introducing steamers on all its rivers to an Englishman, Mr. Bugglen.--(_See Appendix._) [B] Plans for forming such a canal were under consideration by the Commissioners appointed under the treaty of San Ildefonso, in 1778, to fix the boundaries of the Spanish and Portuguese possessions. [C] MR. MANDEVILLE'S SUMMONS. _Buenos Ayres, December 16th, 1842._ The Governments of England and France having determined to adopt such measures as they may consider necessary to put an end to the hostilities between the Republics of Buenos Ayres and Monte Video, the undersigned Minister Plenipotentiary of her Britannic Majesty to the Argentine Confederation, has the honour, conformably to the instructions received from his Government, to inform H. E. M. Arana, Minister for Foreign Affairs of the Government of Buenos Ayres, that the sanguinary war at present carried on between the Government of Buenos Ayres and that of Monte Video, must cease, for the interests of humanity and of the British and French subjects, and other Foreigners who are residing in the country which is now the seat of war; and therefore requires of the Government of Buenos Ayres:--1. The immediate cessation of hostilities between the troops of the Argentine Confederation and those of the Republic of Uruguay. 2. That the troops of the Argentine Confederation (it being understood that those of the Republic of the Uruguay will adopt a similar course) remain within their respective territories, or return to them in case they should have passed their frontier.--The undersigned requests H. E. to reply as soon as he conveniently can, whether it is the intention of the Government of Buenos Ayres to accede to these demands, and has the honour to be, &c. J. H. MANDEVILLE. _To H. E. Don Felipe Arana._ [D] _Buenos Ayres, December 28th, 1842._ MY DEAR M. DE VIDAL,--I received this morning your private letter of the 20th; after thanking you for it I have little to add, except that Count de Lurde and I have received an answer to our note demanding an armistice, stating that a demand of this nature, menacing as it does the Argentine Confederation, requires time for deliberation before a reply can be given. In the mean time, I trust that the step which I and the French Minister have taken will in no manner weaken, but, on the contrary, hasten and encourage the zealous efforts of your Government to resist invasion, because, where winds and waves are concerned, no man can say, when he leaves Europe, in what week or in what month he will arrive at Monte Video. I know nothing of the operations of the armies on either side of the Uruguay; I thank you for the information which you send me about them; I know nothing from any other source. Believe me ever, my dear M. de Vidal, ever your sincere friend, J. H. MANDEVILLE. _To his Excellency M. de Vidal, &c. &c. &c._ _Buenos Ayres, January 12th, 1843._ MY DEAR M. DE VIDAL,--When I received M. Gelly's official letter upon the entry of Oribe's troops into the Banda Oriental, I was myself too unwell to thank you for your letter of the 28th ult. on the subject of your resignation, and too sad and discouraged by it at the idea of your retirement from office at the present moment. But now when I see, by the _Nacional_ of the 3d, that you have nobly decided upon still retaining the foreign and home departments, I am as anxious to congratulate you and your country upon this resolution, as I was averse, on the day I wrote to M. Gelly, to take up my pen for any body or any thing, but for this letter of yours above mentioned. The two official communications, which I send you with this opportunity, would have gone with my letter to M. Gelly, luckily, it's of little consequence whether you receive them now or this day month. What has prevented the British and French naval forces from coming long before this to the River Plate, I can have no conception. The interview between the British Ambassador and Guizot took place on the 9th September, when he agreed to all that Lord Cowley proposed, of uniting their forces to put an end to the war. Before the end of December I would have sworn that they would have been here. I cannot conclude my letter without expressing to you my truest thanks for the expression of your friendship towards me, and my confidence that, happen what may, you will always duly appreciate my public and private conduct to you. Believe me, my dear M. de Vidal, that my sentiments and my utmost efforts will always be in unison to draw closer the ties of friendship, which have been so happily established, through you in great part, between the two countries where we first drew our breath, and my labour will be unceasing to preserve them unchanged. J. H. MANDEVILLE. _To his Excellency Don Jose Antonino Vidal._ APPENDIX. CORRESPONDENCE OF H. J. MANDEVILLE, ESQ., _British Minister to the Argentine Confederation_, WITH SENHOR VIDAL, _Secretary of State of the Republic of Uruguay_. _Buenos Ayres, May 26th, 1842._ MY DEAR M. DE VIDAL,--I have received your official letter of the 20th May, with the enclosure which you have had the goodness and frankness to communicate to me,--and also the two private letters of the same date, which you have done me the honour to write to me. I beg you to believe that I share with you all the disagreeableness of the suspense which the silence of the British Government to my despatches of the 4th December last causes to us both. To me it is only a matter of a little personal inconvenience that I ought not, nor do I, regard; to you it is very different--and all that I can say to you on the subject is, that the moment that I hear from England respecting it, I will not lose a moment in communicating it to you--of this be assured, as of the sincere esteem and consideration with which I remain, My dear M. de Vidal, always truly yours, J. H. MANDEVILLE. * * * * * (PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL.) _Buenos Ayres, June 8th,1842._ MY DEAR M. DE VIDAL,--Although I have not received any official answer to the proposals which I transmitted by your Excellency's desire to her Majesty's Government, on the 6th of December last, as a basis for the conclusion of a Treaty of Amity and Commerce with the Republic of the Uruguay, I am led to believe and know that they will not be accepted, for the reasons which I stated to your Excellency at the time these proposals were made to me--namely, that the acceptance of this offer would be at variance with the policy and practice of her Majesty's Government, whose wish, in matters of commerce, is to stand on the same footing as other nations, and to enjoy no advantages but such as would, upon similar terms, be conceded to any other friendly power, and that accordingly her Majesty's Government have no intention of availing themselves of this proposal. I therefore again most pressingly renew, to your Excellency, the proposals I made when I first had the honour to see your Excellency, to negociate with me a Treaty of Amity, Commerce, and Navigation, upon the basis which was presented to the Monte Videan Government by Mr. Hamilton, in the year 1835, and brought forward by me at a later period. I am enabled to assure your Excellency that Her Majesty's Government is not indifferent to the welfare and prosperity of the Republic of the Uruguay, as your Excellency will shortly see by the measures which will be taken for its preservation, and to which I am sure you will be a willing party, and I beg your Excellency to believe that nothing will strengthen these good intentions on the part of Her Majesty's Government so much as a frank and cordial acceptance of the terms of the above mentioned Treaty. I have the honour to be with the highest consideration, Sir, Your Excellency's obedient humble servant, J. H. MANDEVILLE. _To his Excellency, Don Jose Antonino Vidal, &c. &c. &c._ * * * * * (MOST CONFIDENTIAL.) _Buenos Ayres, June 10th, 1842._ MY DEAR M. DE VIDAL,--My Government has seen with regret that the results of my visits to Monte Video, in December and January last, was not concession of a Treaty of Amity, Commerce and Navigation between Great Britain and the Republic of Uruguay upon the footing proposed by my predecessor Mr. Hamilton, and subsequently by me, and I have been represented as not having been sufficiently urgent with your Excellency to conclude this treaty with me, and I have been blamed in consequence. I therefore appeal to your Excellency if I did not do my utmost to induce you to negociate it with me, observing, that once concluded, it would not prejudice the acceptance of any other additional proposal on your part which might be added to it afterwards and form additional articles--and that I only desisted from urging it upon you, when I saw that my solicitations were of no avail, and you were resolved to await the answer to the proposition which I transmitted to London by your Excellency's desire. I am anxious that this circumstance should be put in its true light, and that I may be exonerated from an undeserved censure--and still more that your Excellency should commence the negociations of the treaty with me, which would be the best answer to the reports of the lukewarmness of my wishes in this business. Believe me to be, my dear M. de Vidal, with great truth and regard, most sincerely and faithfully yours, J. H. MANDEVILLE. _To his Excellency Don Antonino Vidal._ * * * * * (SECRET AND CONFIDENTIAL) _Buenos Ayres, June 18th, 1842._ MY DEAR M. DE VIDAL,--The measures which I alluded to in my private letter to your Excellency of the 10th instant--that her Majesty's Government will take for the effectual protection of the Republic of Uruguay are a joint mediation of Great Britain and France, which I am formally to tender to the Buenos Ayrean Government, upon the arrival of the French Minister here, Baron de Lurde, to adjust the difference between Monte Video and Buenos Ayres. I did not acquaint you of this important intelligence in my last letters, on account of the possibility of their falling into other hands; and as I am not to make the formal offer of joint mediation of Great Britain and France, until the arrival of the French Minister at Buenos Ayres, I think, for many reasons, which I am sure you will share with me, that it should not be made known; but I have taken the first safe opportunity of communicating it to you, for your own satisfaction and for that of your colleagues. Believe me always, my dear M. de Vidal, with great regard and esteem, most faithfully yours, J. H. MANDEVILLE. _To his Excellency M. de Vidal, &c. &c. &c._ * * * * * _Buenos Ayres, June 23d,1842._ SIR,--I have had the honour to receive your Excellency's dispatch, marked confidential, of the 18th instant, in answer to mine of the 8th, which was delivered to me this morning, the contents of which will cause great satisfaction to her Majesty's Government, as to me they have procured the highest gratification. Her Majesty's Ministers will see, in the determination of the Monte Videan Government to conclude a Treaty of Amity, Commerce, and Navigation, with Great Britain, on the terms proposed by Mr. Hamilton and by me, the most unequivocal proof of the loyalty of its intentions towards the British Empire, and of its friendly sentiments towards her Majesty's Government. I shall, in consequence, avail myself of the friendly dispositions of the Monte Videan Government for the adjustment and conclusion of the treaty which your Excellency has done me the honour to communicate to me, and I propose, in a few days, to embark for Monte Video, for the termination of so honourable and desirable an event. I have the honour to be, with the highest consideration, Sir, Your Excellency's obedient humble servant, J. H. MANDEVILLE. _To his Excellency D. Jose Antonino Vidal, &c. &c. &c._ * * * * * (PRIVATE.) _Buenos Ayres, June 24th, 1842._ MY DEAR M. DE VIDAL,--I have received your two most amiable and friendly letters of the 18th and 20th instant; it is needless for me to tell you the delight and gratification which they have procured to me. I have little more to add to my acknowledgement of the receipt of these letters, as I shall so very soon have, God willing, the satisfaction of seeing you, except to renew to my heartfelt thanks for their contents, which only serve to increase the sentiments of friendship and esteem which your conduct to me has inspired me with, since the first day of our personal acquaintance. I reserve all communications upon any other subject until we meet, which will be about the middle of next week, but rely upon it, and it is with pride I tell you, _you and your Government will be satisfied_. Believe me ever, my dear M. de Vidal, with the highest regard and consideration, Most faithfully yours, J. H. MANDEVILLE. * * * * * (CONFIDENTIAL.) _Buenos Ayres, June 25th, 1842._ MY DEAR M. DE VIDAL,--Would you have any objections to have the treaty copied immediately? I have motives so strong not for coming back to Buenos Ayres, but for being able to return at the moment when it becomes necessary, that I should impart them to you, which I cannot well by this conveyance. I will answer for your concurrence with me in this desire to be ready, at a moment's notice, to come back here. Another motive, which is a very secondary one, and that is, having no steward at this moment, the one who was with me for six years having left me to set up a coffee-house. I cannot bring my establishment with me, even if I had a house to go to at Monte Video, and therefore I am obliged to live at the Consul's, which is a great inconvenience to him, and consequently very disagreeable to me; but, as I have said, this is a trifling consideration, which may be got over very easily. Again, Mr. Hood may come by the next packet--where shall I go then? All these considerations, put together, make me very anxious, not so much to get through the treaty, for the sake of concluding it, as to be ready, when circumstances require my departure, to come back here. Ever, my dear M. de Vidal, your faithful and sincere friend, J. H. MANDEVILLE. * * * * * (PRIVATE.) _Buenos Ayres, August 18th, 1842._ MY DEAR M. DE VIDAL,--I had the greatest pleasure in receiving your friendly letter, without date, which was accompanied by an official note brought to me by M. le Comte de Lurde, to which you require an answer. If you will weigh the contents of this note, you will find that it is impossible that I can answer it in any other way, than has done the French Plenipotentiary by that of acknowledging the receipt of it. In the first place, no formal tender of mediation has as yet been made by the French Plenipotentiary and me, and therefore, until it has been positively refused, it would be as unusual as it would be impolitic to have recourse to threats to enforce the acceptance of it. But other and more powerful reasons forbid this line of conduct; you who are accustomed to give directions to your foreign Ministers and agents, know that they must act by their instructions, and by their instructions alone. I cannot take upon myself to say what means are at the disposal of the Comte de Lurde, but I know I have no more the power of constraining General Rosas to pay respect to the wishes of the mediatory powers, as far as physical force goes than you have. If I were to ask the British naval officer on this station to land his men and garrison Monte Video, or prevent any power blockading the port, (which in my opinion, you may rely upon it, will never be done by General Rosas), he would laugh at me, unless I could show that I had positive orders from my Government to require it of him. To make a declaration to this effect to General Rosas, without having the means of carrying it into execution, would be only exposing myself to ridicule, and my future communications to this Government as unworthy of belief. And as it is unnecessary, unless you require it, that I should put these reasons, for not acceding to what you demand, in an official note, I have answered it word for word, as the Comte de Lurde has informed me he has done, by simply acknowledging the receipt of it, thus privately stating to you my reasons for so doing. Believe me, my dear M. de Vidal, always and faithfully, Your sincere Friend, J. H. MANDEVILLE. * * * * * (PRIVATE.) _Buenos Ayres, August 25th, 1842._ MY M. DE VIDAL,--I have to thank you for your letter of the 15th instant, and for the information you gave me in it with regard to Ellauri's proceedings in London, and to the assurances made to him by Lord Aberdeen of his determination to put an end to the war. His, M. Ellauri's project of a treaty rather surprises me, considering that he was unauthorized by you to propose it, but I suppose Republican Ministers take upon themselves a little more in their negotiations than we Ministers of Monarchs, at all events I hope that they will send me an outline of it from the Foreign Office, as I am very anxious to see what M. Ellauri would have liked to have had. You may rely upon it, my dear M. de Vidal, that in spite of all your opposers and enemies may say, your confidence in the mediation has not been vain and groundless: Count de Lurde and I are determined to uphold the respectability of the mediation, but we must wait until it be rejected before other measures can be taken. Yesterday the mediation was formally proposed by M. de Lurde, and by me to Don Felipe de Arana on the part of our respective Sovereigns, and supported by arguments which seemed to make an impression on the Minister. He, of course, could give neither answer nor opinion upon the proposal, and I do not think it very likely that we shall obtain one before the departure of the packet which is fixed for the day after to-morrow. The picture you give me of the state of your armies in Entre Rios, leaves you little to apprehend.--A private letter from a friend of mine in the Foreign Office says, "By the accounts from Monte Video, we expect to receive by the next packet a demand from the Buenos Ayrean Government to defend it from the troops of General Rivera." Be assured, my dear M. de Vidal, that I will leave no opportunity neglected to write to you whenever I have any thing to communicate worth your knowing, and that I am always, Your sincere and faithful Friend, J. H. MANDEVILLE. _To his Excellency M. de Vidal, &c. &c. &c._ * * * * * _August 26th._--I received late last night your letter of the 24th. I really have not time to do more than thank you for it by this opportunity. J. H. M. * * * * * (PRIVATE.) _Buenos Ayres, October 19th, 1842._ MY DEAR M. DE VIDAL,--I received by the last packet a letter from Mr. Hood, a part of which I will communicate to you, as I think it right that you should be literally and truly informed of what is going at the Foreign Office, in London, between Lord Aberdeen and M. Ellauri, on the subject of negociation, with respect to a treaty of commerce. Mr. Hood says "I am employed modifying the treaty and talking Ellauri into acquiescence to our views. Yesterday, (August 2nd), we had an interview with Lord Canning, and during it I heard that he said he would not hesitate to sign the treaty as now prepared. If it should come to a bargain, I think it may be very likely that the Foreign Office may wish me to take it out to get ratified." Now, my dear friend, tell me, if you can, how is it possible for M. Ellauri to sign and conclude a treaty, or even to say that he will, unless he has full powers to do so? I am confident that he has neither one nor the other, because you told me he has not, but still it is so very extraordinary his whole conduct that I should like if possible to have it explained. I had a discourse the other day with a gentleman on the right of the Government of the Republic of Uruguay and this country, to expel any foreigner from their territory, at their pleasure. I know that it is never done but under very grave circumstances; but what I contended for was, the power and the right they possess to do so. I suppose you have not written to me lately because I did not answer your letter of the 20th ult., but if you have no other, it does not resemble you. Always, my dear M. de Vidal, Sincerely yours, J. H. MANDEVILLE. * * * * * (PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL.) _Buenos Ayres, October 20th, 1842._ MY DEAR M. DE VIDAL,--I have not before acknowledged the receipt of your letter of the 20th of last month, for until now I have had nothing to communicate to you that was worth the trouble of taking your time to read. I am greatly pained by the sad termination of Count de Lurde's and my most strenuous efforts, as far as argument and persuasion could go, to induce the Buenos Ayrean Government to listen to the dictates of sound policy as well as of humanity and accept the mediation of Great Britain and France to put an end to the war. It will grievously disappoint the great expectations of her Majesty's Government, but for which disappointment from my previous dispatches they will be, in a great measure, prepared. I have set Messrs. Ball and Diehl to work to copy the answer, that no time may be lost in communicating it to you, and I shall send down the Cockatrice with it the moment it is done. Believe me, my dear M. de Vidal, Always your sincere faithful Friend, J. H. MANDEVILLE. _To his Excellency D. Antonino de Vidal, &c. &c._ P.S.--Although I transmit this document to you officially, as I feel it my duty to do, I would rather that it be not published until we have the resolution of the Sala. In Europe, these papers are never published until some time after they have been delivered, which we consider as by far the best mode of conduct. J. H. M. * * * * * _Buenos Ayres, October 26th, 1842_ MY DEAR M. DE VIDAL,--Neither you nor I were, nor could be surprised at the wretchedness of our negociation, or rather of M. de Lurde's and my attempt to make this Government accept the mediation of Great Britain and France, to put an end to the war, and I am happy to think that when I was last at Monte Video, I prepared her Majesty's Government for this result. I feel the greatest pleasure to find that my unceasing efforts to obtain the acceptance by the Buenos Ayrean Government of our joint mediation have satisfied you. I can conscientiously say that I have done every thing in my power to make it succeed. Of course I never meant but that the note should be immediately communicated to the Government, all I requested, and in which I was sure your own discernment and good feelings would make you concur in, was, that it should not be published until it has come out here. I observe, in all your letters, you write _mediation_ for mediators, as applicable to my expressions. "My words in one of my preceding letters were, that your reliance on the mediators should not be vain or unfounded." This you have seen and can rely upon. I never hoped or gave you reason to hope that the mediation would be successful, but the results, according to my opinion and belief, (I am no prophet to predict), will not be vain nor illusory. The feelings of the British Government (and as you tell me Lord Aberdeen has himself said) towards the Banda Oriental will be very different since the conclusion of a treaty between it and great Britain to what they were before. Believe me, my dear M. de Vidal, Always your sincere and faithful Friend, J. H. MANDEVILLE. _To his Excellency M. de Vidal, &c. &c. &c._ * * * * * _Buenos Ayres, November 28th, 1842._ SIR,--I have the honour to transmit to your Excellency a copy of the note from the Buenos Ayrean Minister for Foreign Affairs, transmitting to me the resolution of the Chamber upon the correspondence between me and the French Minister on one part, and M. Arana on the other, upon the subject of the mediation which was transmitted to the Chamber for its consideration, and a decree which it has issued. Thus, notwithstanding all my efforts, the Buenos Ayrean Government still continues to refuse her Majesty's mediation, and _persist in a war not justified by any national object_. I have the honour to be with the highest consideration, Sir, Your Excellency's most obedient humble Servant, J. H. MANDEVILLE. _To his Excellency Don Jose Antonino Vidal, &c. &c. &c._ * * * * * (PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL.) _Buenos Ayres, September 2nd, 1842._ MY DEAR M. DE VIDAL,--I had not time, before the departure of the packet, to answer your private letter of the 24th ult., and now keep my promise made to you in my letter of the 25th ult., of replying to it. I must first begin by telling you that, some days before the packet sailed, Count de Lurde and I made the formal tender of the mediation in the manner presented to me by my instructions with which I made you acquainted when I was last at Monte Video. I told M. de Arana that he was doubtless acquainted with the object of our visit, to which he assented, of which he had been informed by previous conversations which he had with me, and which was no longer a secret, for it had formed articles in the Monte Video newspapers, and the topic of conversation in the streets of that Town for weeks. But public or private the object is the same, one of the greatest importance to this country and of serious consideration to Great Britain and to France,--that of urging General Rosas to accept the mediation of France and Great Britain, of which the Count de Lurde and I then made the formal offer to the Buenos Ayrean Government in order to put an end to the deplorable conflict in which Buenos Ayres and Monte Video have for such a length of time been engaged. _That Monte Video to my knowledge is anxious and willing to make peace_ with Buenos Ayres upon fair and reasonable terms, and I could produce authority for what I advanced, if required, that the proposal which General Rosas had formerly made, of accepting the mediation of Great Britain upon the condition that General Oribe should be returned to power, was inadmissible, and that it was obviously impossible that either the British or French Governments could sanction, by their mediation, the desire of General Rosas to place in the Presidency of Monte Video _a particular individual_, who, however meritorious in other respects, may not be acceptable to the majority of the inhabitants of the Oriental State, and that those Governments can only agree to offer to either of the belligerent powers such conditions as one independent State can, consistently with its honour, accept from another. I then acquainted his excellency that it was the confident expectation of her Majesty's Government that the Argentine Government will accept the offer of Great Britain and France to mediate between Buenos Ayres and Monte Video, upon just and reasonable conditions, and that the Buenos Ayrean Government will authorize us, the Count de Lurde and me, to propose moderate and honourable terms of peace to the Government of the Republic of the Uruguay. I stated to M. de Arana that this offer is dictated by the feelings of humanity and of warm interest in the prosperity of the two neighbouring Republics, and her Majesty's Government earnestly hope, as M. de Lurde said does that of France, that the Government of Buenos Ayres will maturely reflect before they reject the friendly intervention which is now offered to them by two such powerful states, and I concluded by conjuring his Excellency to use his whole influence with General Rosas, as his friend and adviser, to accept the offer of mediation in the manner just proposed to him. M. de Arana replied, that of course we could not expect from him any other answer than that he would hasten to lay the object of the communication we had just made to him before General Rosas, which he would do on that evening, and addressing himself to M. de Lurde, he said, you know the answer which was addressed to the British Minister last year, a copy of it having been given to M. de Becourt. Neither the French Minister nor myself were anxious to recur to that answer nor to discuss it, but he joined with me in soliciting the good offices of M. de Arana to obtain a happy issue to our joint offer. M. de Lurde said, and with reason, that it would be of the greatest importance to obtain the acquiescence of General Rosas to the mediation as soon as possible, in which I joined him in pressing terms. M. de Arana immediately replied that he would render an account to the Governor of the earnest desire of the two Ministers with all the interest that demands an affair as delicate as it is important. With this last observation of M. de Arana the conference ended, and we took leave full in hope that General Rosas, with the soundness of his judgment and the generosity of his disposition, aided by his Excellency's influence and good offices will not hesitate to accept the offer of Great Britain and France to terminate a war which, for the sake of humanity and the prosperity of the two Republics, is so earnestly desired by all Europe, as well as by the people and Government of Monte Video, who ask only for peace, and the power the most legitimate in the world, that of choosing its own rulers, and its form of government themselves. Two days after the packet sailed we, the Count de Lurde and I, called upon M. de Arana; he told us that in a question of such great importance, as is the joint offer of mediation of Great Britain and France, it should, he thought be communicated in writing, and he asked us if we had any objection to make it in that manner, I said by no means, and the French Minister and I sent in a note on the following day, 30th August, beginning with "In consequence of your Excellency's desire to have the communication we verbally made to you on the 24th instant, committed to writing, we have the honour, &c., &c., and I repeated in writing word for word what I had said to him verbally, and the French Minister did the same. You have now, dear M. de Vidal, a faithful and exact account of every thing that has taken place in this important business. Now as to what you ask of me with respect to answering the official note you sent to me by the French Minister, I agree with you perfectly, that Her Majesty's Government would not make a second offer of its mediation, without being resolved to support it, more especially since you say that Lord Aberdeen has declared to M. Ellauri, that he will put a stop to the war. But this assurance on the part of Lord Aberdeen does not give me the power either to take measures for carrying this declaration into effect, or to make such a declaration to General Rosas. I _must wait_ for instructions from my Government _before_ I inform the Buenos Ayrean Government what they will direct shall be done, as it is not for me to say in what manner the war shall be put a stop to. M. de Lurde, when I spoke to him about the purport of the official note to me from you, of which he was the bearer, told me that he had simply acknowledged the receipt of it, because he could give no other answer, and I feel that I am in exactly a similar position. You are now, as you have always been, in possession of my public and private sentiments upon this most important question, the mediation, and you may be most confident that my conduct upon it, whilst it is pending, will be as satisfactory to your Government as to yourself. Believe me, my dear M. de Vidal, always your faithful and sincere friend, J. H. MANDEVILLE. _To his Excellency Don Jose Antonino Vidal, &c. &c. &c._ * * * * * (PRIVATE.) _Buenos Ayres, December 23rd, 1842._ MY DEAR M. DE VIDAL,--I received this morning your private letter of the 20th,--after thanking you for it, I have little to add, except that Count de Lurde and I have received an answer to our note, demanding an armistice, stating that a demand of this nature, menacing as it does the Argentine Confederation, requires time for consideration before a reply can be given. In the meantime, I trust that the step which I and the French Minister have taken will in no manner weaken, but, on the contrary, hasten and encourage the zealous efforts of your Government to resist invasion, because, where winds and waves are concerned, no man can say, when he leaves Europe, in what week or in what month he will arrive at Monte Video. I know nothing of the operations of the armies on either side of the Uruguay; I thank you for the information which you send me about them--I know nothing from any other source. Believe me ever, my dear M. de Vidal, Your faithful and sincere friend, J. H. MANDEVILLE. _To his Excellency M. de Vidal, &c., &c., &c._ * * * * * (CONFIDENTIAL.) _Buenos Ayres, 24th December, 1842._ MY DEAR M. DE VIDAL,--I took the liberty, when I sent you a copy of our note to this Government, demanding a cessation of hostilities, to beg the favour of you not to make it public. Communications of this nature are not intended at the time to be made public. If I had intended that Mr. Dale should have a copy of it, I would have sent one to him; but copies have been given--for the commander of the Fantome has written a letter to me of complaint, that I had not communicated the circumstance to him, when some one had shown him a copy which he had read. People sometimes think that by giving publicity to a document they bind down more the persons who have signed it to their engagement; this is a mistake. The only result which comes out of it is, that it makes them much more cautious and reserved in future in communicating them. Believe me ever, my dear M. de Vidal, Your sincere friend, J. H. MANDEVILLE. * * * * * (PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL.) _Buenos Ayres, January 12th, 1843._ MY DEAR M. DE VIDAL,--My thanks for your letter of the 28th ult. in answer to mine of the complaints of the captain of the Fantome. It was perfectly satisfactory. I have received a despatch from Lord Aberdeen, acquainting me that the Vidal and Ellauri treaties are under the consideration of her Majesty's Government, and that he will not fail by next packet to communicate to me the result of their deliberations. The under Secretary of State writes me that the latter is in some measure preferred, and, therefore, it is right for me to mention this circumstance to you, in order that you may not be unprepared, should it be adopted. Believe me, my dear M. de Vidal, ever your sincere Friend, J. H. MANDEVILLE. * * * * * (PRIVATE.) _Buenos Ayres, January 12th, 1843._ MY DEAR M. DE VIDAL,--When I received M. Gelly's official letter, upon the entry of Oribe's troops into the Banda Oriental, I was myself too unwell to thank you for your letter of the 28th ult. on the subject of your resignation, and too sad and discouraged by it at the idea of your retirement from office at the present moment. But now I see by the _Nacional_ of the 3rd that you have nobly decided upon still retaining the Foreign and Home Departments, I am as anxious to congratulate you and your country upon this resolution, as I was averse on the day I wrote to M. Gelly to take up my pen for any body or any thing, but for this letter of yours above mentioned. The two official communications which I send you by this opportunity, would have gone with my letter to M. Gelly, luckily, its of little consequence whether you receive them now or this day month. What has prevented the British and French naval forces from coming long before this to the River Plate, I can have no conception. The interview between the British Ambassador and Guizot took place on the 9th September, when he agreed to all that Lord Cowley proposed of uniting their forces to put an end to the war. Before the end of December, I would have sworn that they would have been here. I cannot conclude my letter without expressing to you my truest thanks for the expression of your friendship towards me,--and my confidence that, happen what may, you will always duly appreciate my public and private conduct to you. Believe me, my dear M. de Vidal, that my sentiments and my utmost efforts will always be in unison to draw closer the ties of friendship which have been so happily established, through you in great part, between the two countries where we first drew our breath, and my labour will be unceasing to preserve them unchanged. J. H. MANDEVILLE. _To his Excellency Don Jose Antonino Vidal._ * * * * * MR. GORDON'S LETTER TO GENERAL RIVERA. _Ytapua, September 26th, 1842._ Having arrived safely at this town on the 20th instant, I forwarded, on the same evening, a despatch to the Government of this Republic with my passports soliciting the necessary license for myself and my companions to continue our journey to Assumption. By the same opportunity I forwarded to the Consuls of the Republic the despatch with which I was charged by your Excellency. The answer from the Consuls reached me yesterday afternoon, and with it I have received, for my own person, my two companions and servant, permission to proceed to the capital, with the assurance that every assistance and protection will be afforded me. I regret having to add that this license is not extended to the Oriental escort, under whose protection and with whose assistance I have been able so fortunately to complete my journey to the Paraguay territory--for the reason (in the words of the Consuls note) of the said escort _being no longer necessary_. On this account the Government of this Republic has granted a passport, which Don Blas Acevedo takes with him, ordering the Paraguay authorities to render to this officer and to the men under his command every necessary assistance on his return to the camp of your Excellency, and has also forwarded the despatch which I have now the honour to transmit in answer to that of your Excellency, with which I accompanied my above-mentioned letters to the Consuls of Paraguay. It only remains for me to express to your Excellency my perfect satisfaction in regard to the conduct of the escort, generally and individually, during the whole time that we have journeyed together. I am perfectly well aware, Excellent Sir, that such a declaration is unnecessary on my part, being confident that soldiers chosen by your Excellency for any service, would necessarily act as these have done, but I should neither satisfy my grateful feeling nor my duty, did I not state that in fulfilling their commission, both the escort and the officer that accompanied me from Monte Video, have, in every occasion and in all circumstances, been constantly active, obedient and ready to exert themselves to the utmost, and that in no instance have they given cause of complaint, either to myself or to the parties at whose houses we have stayed, or through whose lands we have passed. I cannot conclude without calling the attention of your Excellency to the case of the soldier José Arillu and to that of the coachman Antonio, both of whom have been seriously hurt in the service just completed: at present I can do no more than to recommend them to the consideration of your Excellency, but I purpose communicating the affair to my Government. Repeating my sincere thanks, and saluting your Excellency with the expression of my highest esteem and most distinguished consideration, I have the honour to subscribe myself, Your Excellency's most obedient humble servant, G. J. R. GORDON. _To His Excellency Don Fructuoso Rivera, President of the Oriental Republic of the Uruguay, General in Chief of the army, &c. &c._ * * * * * REPUBLIC OF PARAGUAY. _Assumption, September 23d, 1842._ The undersigned supreme Government has received the estimable note of his Excellency the President of the Oriental Republic of the Uruguay, dated the 1st of August last, informing this Government of the visit of George J. R. Gordon, Esq., and his companion recommended by his Excellency to this Government, who therefore assure his Excellency that nothing is more gratifying to them than to accept the recommendation his Excellency has been pleased to direct, for the purpose indicated; and will correspond, in acting upon it, to the sentiments of friendship by which it is animated towards the Government of the Oriental Republic. The Government has disposed that the escort given by his Excellency to Mr. Gordon, shall be provided with the proper passport for his return, as it is a duty incumbent on this Government to give due fulfilment to the necessary attentions on Mr. Gordon's leaving the country. The request of his Excellency being satisfied in all respects this Government repeats its expression of true friendship and esteem and affectionately salutes his Excellency. CARLOS ANTONIO LOPEZ. MARIANO ROQUE ALONSO. _To his Excellency the President of the Oriental Republic of the Uruguay, Don Fructuoso Rivera._ * * * * * STEAM NAVIGATION ON THE RIVERS OF THE REPUBLIC OF URUGUAY. (OFFICIAL.) _The Senate and Chamber of Representatives of the Oriental Republic of the Uruguay, united in General Assembly, have resolved on the following_ DECREE. Art. 1.--It is granted to Mr. John Halton Buggeln to hold the exclusive privilege of navigating with ships propelled by steam or other mechanical power, in the ports and on the rivers of the Republic, during the period of twelve years from the time of the arrival of those ships at the port of Monte Video, under the conditions and restrictions to be expressed in the following articles; reckoning the arrival of the first steam-vessel at twenty months after the sanction of this project, save in case of unforeseen impediment, and the contractor obliging himself to prove his inculpableness by publishing the privilege in England and soliciting the advance of the requisite capital; if in thirty months from the date mentioned in the sanction of the project, he shall not have verified that justification before the Executive, Mr. Halton Buggeln shall incur the penalty of a fine of 10,000 dollars to the public treasury, the same to be guaranteed by his person and goods. Art. 2.--Vessels of the said description of less than fifty tons burthen, are not comprehended in the exclusion of this privilege. Art. 3.--The undertaking shall be commenced by two vessels of three hundred or more tons, and one hundred horse power. The latest discoveries that shall have been made both for the acceleration of speed and for the prevention of accidents of explosion or others, are to be applied to their construction and machinery. Art. 4.--The vessels of this undertaking shall convey, free of all charge, the mails of the Republic to and from all the ports of their transit; the captains or masters being responsible for their safety, unless the Government shall appoint a person for this object. Art. 5.--Each vessel shall maintain on board two young Oriental citizens as apprentices to instruct them as engineers and pilots. Art. 6.--The vessels of this undertaking shall navigate free of all tonnage dues, under the British flag, having liberty to deposit on shore or on board of hulks, such coals, machinery or other matters intended for use and consumption on board, not including provisions, the Executive to determine the measures necessary to prevent the abuse of this liberty, and it being understood that the said deposits shall not be entitled to any other guarantee than such as belong to foreign property on shore. Art. 7--Whatever may be the state of the relations of this Republic with Great Britain, this undertaking, its funds and property, and the men employed in it, shall never under any pretext be an object of sequestration, indemnification, nor guarantee of any kind of reclamations or reprisals, which may occur between the two nations, but rather during the whole term of the contract until its dissolution, it shall be under the protection of the laws as if such misunderstandings did not exist; but the navigation may be temporally suspended and with it the term of the privilege, if the defence of the Republic or other similar interests should so require. Art. 8.--If there should be national contractors or shareholders the undertaking shall admit them to the number of one third of the shares. Act. 9--This privilege shall become of no effect by the voluntary interruption of its exercise, by the contractor, during a period of six months continuously. Art. 10.--Let it be communicated, &c. And in making this known to the Executive Power, the undersigned President takes the opportunity of saluting the Executive with his most distinguished consideration. Dr. PEDRO PABLO VIDAL, _Juan Manuel de la Sota_, Secretary. Monte Video, February 7th, 1844. _To H. E. the Vice-President of the Republic, Don Joaquin Suarez._ * * * * * _Monte Video, February 8th, 1844._ Be it fulfilled, the receipt thereof acknowledged, let be communicated to whom it may concern, published and inserted in the National Register. SUAREZ. _Santiago Vazquez._ Printed at the Liverpool Times Office, Castle-street. TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES 1. Passages in italics are surrounded by _underscores_. 2. Footnotes have been moved from the middle of the text to just before appendix. 3. The following misprints have been corrected: "the the" corrected to "the" (page 6) "it" corrected to "its" (page 13) "on" corrected to "of" (page 28) "notwithsanding" corrected to "notwithstanding" (page 32) 4. Other than the corrections listed above, printer's inconsistencies in spelling, punctuation, and ligature usage have been retained. 
42879	----	THE ORIENTAL REPUBLIC OF URUGUAY AT THE WORLD'S COLUMBIAN EXHIBITION, CHICAGO, 1893 ++ PLEASE NOTE MAP. THE ORIENTAL REPUBLIC OF URUGUAY AT THE WORLD'S COLUMBIAN EXHIBITION, CHICAGO, 1893. GEOGRAPHY, RURAL INDUSTRIES, COMMERCE, GENERAL STATISTICS. BY CARLOS MARIA DE PENA AND HONORE ROUSTAN, Director of the General Statistics Office TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH BY J. J. RETHORE. MONTEVIDEO. 1893 NOTICE. MONTEVIDEO, December 31st, 1892. _To the Hon. President of "Chicago Exhibition" Executive Committee:_ On delivering the Spanish text of these notes and statistical inquiries, the compiling of which we have taken under our care as a patriotic duty, it is convenient to observe that, if the present work principally contains facts and particulars only relative to the year 1891, it is because complete general statistics covering the year 1892 are not yet to be had, as the "Board of Statistics" do not publish the "Annual" till the second quarter of the year 1893, and also because it has been considered better to conserve a certain general unity in the compiling of facts and particulars. If, in a few special cases, any particulars of the year 1892 have been quoted, it was merely with the purpose of supplying to some deficiency. The time which the Commission has had to dispose has been very short for a work of this kind; the particulars that existed at the "Board of Statistics" had to be used, and it was impossible to get any new ones, at least as completely and as quickly as it was required; and that if, notwithstanding so many difficulties, it has been possible to deliver the present work in due time, it is because the Director of the "Board of General Statistics" had already compiled nearly all of it, so that the only thing to be done has been to introduce a few short amplifications, sometimes to change the order, and some others to make a few important corrections. The only thing we are sorry for, is not to have received all the particulars and information we had asked for, so as to give to the present work a greater novelty and a more seducing form--that, with a greater number of facts and particulars, might reveal what is, what can be, and what is to be, one day or other the Oriental Republic, with all its economical and social elements, and with all the new elements that will be created, owing to the benefits of peace and owing to the work and energy of the inhabitants, under the protecting shield of a severe and provident Administration. Having concluded this work which was committed to our care, and thinking that the translator, Mr. J. J. RETHORE, will finish his in the first fortnight of the next year, we have the honor of saluting the Honorable President with all our greatest consideration and esteem. HONORE ROUSTAN. CARLOS M. DE PENA. MINISTER OF FOREIGN RELATIONS, MONTEVIDEO, Jan. 27, 1893. _To the Consul-General:_ The Government has this day issued the following decree: Ministry of Foreign Relations. Decree. Montevideo, January 27, 1893. In view of the representation made by the Ministry of Public Works (Fomento) in a note of present date, the President of the Republic decrees: ARTICLE 1. The following are appointed as members of the Commission representing the Republic of Uruguay in the Universal Exposition at Chicago: President, Senor Don Prudencio de Murguiondo, Consul-General in the United States of North America; Special Commissioner, Don Lucio Rodriguez Diez; and Regular Commissioner, Don Alberto Gomez Ruano, Dr. Don Eduardo Chucarro, and Don Ricardo Hughes. ART. 2. The said Commissioners will arrange directly with the Central Commission at Montevideo in everything relating to their duties. ART. 3. Let this decree be published and recorded. Signed: HERRERA Y OBES, MANUEL HERRERO Y ESPINOSA. Any information regarding Uruguay will be cheerfully given by the Commissioners at Chicago till the Exposition closes, and after that by the Consul-General of Uruguay, at Washington, D. C., or the following Consuls and Vice-Consuls. _CONSULS._ THOMAS A. EDDY, NEW YORK. KAFAEL S. SALAS, SAVANNAH, GA. JOSE COSTA, SAN FRANCISCO, CAL. LEONCE RABILLON, BALTIMORE, MD. JAMES E. MARRETT, PORTLAND, MAINE. EDUARDO FORNIAS, PHILADELPHIA. C. C. TURNER, CHICAGO, ILL. _VICE-CONSULS._ ARTHUR CARROLL, BOSTON, MASS. THOMAS C. WATSON, PENSACOLA, FLA. HENRY T. DUNN, BRUNSWICK, GA. W. A. MURCHIE, CALAIS, MAINE. N. B. BORDEN, FERNANDINA, FLA. JAMES HAUGHTON, {NORFOLK, NEWPORT NEWS { AND YORKTOWN. GEORGE A. BARKSDALE, RICHMOND, VA. WILLIAM N. HARRIS, WILMINGTON, N. C. G. H. GREEN, NEW ORLEANS. F. B. GENOVAE, ST. AUGUSTINE, FLA. CHARLES F. HUCHET, CHARLESTON, S. C. R. W. STEWART, BANGOR, MAINE. ALFRED THOMAS SHAW, MOBILE, ALA. ARTHUR HOMER, GALVESTON, TEXAS. H. F. KREBS, PASCAGOULA, MISS. THE ORIENTAL REPUBLIC OF URUGUAY. (SOUTH AMERICA.) Discovery--Situation--Limits--Configuration--Perimeter--Superficies. The territory of the Oriental Republic of Uruguay, situated within the temperate zone of South America, was discovered in the beginning of the sixteenth century by the famous Spanish cosmographer, Juan Diaz de Solis. Its geographical situation is comprised between the 30°, 5' and 35° degrees of latitude S. and the 56th 15' and 60th 45' of longitude W., according to the Paris meridian. North and eastward it confines with the United States of Brazil, and westward with the Argentine Republic. Its limits are: On the north, the river Cuareim, the _cuchilla_ or ridge of hills of Santa Ana, and the right bank of the river Yaguaron Grande; on the east, the occidental coast of Lake Merin and the river Chuy, which empties into the Atlantic ocean; on the west, the river Uruguay, which separates it from the Argentine Republic; on the south, the river Plate. Its configuration is somewhat that of a many-sided polygon, surrounded in its greatest part by water, except its northern part, where it is bounded by the terrestrial frontier, which separates it from the Brazilian Republic. Its perimeter is of 1846 kilom. 850 m., out of which 1073 kilom. 750 m. are sea and river coasts, remaining 773 kilom. 100 m. of terrestrial line. Its superficies is 186,920 square kilom. Aspect--Climate--Meteorology. The prevailing aspect of the country presents itself with continuous undulations, formed by the numerous _cuchillas_ or ridges of hills, which shoot in all directions. The hills are covered with rich pasture grounds. Trees of all kinds stand along the banks of the principal rivers and rivulets which flow, winding about, over great extensions of land, and water the fertile meadows, forming, under a quiet and generally clear sky, a charming landscape all over, which invites to employ usefully such manifold natural riches that have just begun, being cultivated and worked in a vast scale and with fruitful results. Although it is not a mountainous country, its highlands are numerous. The principal heights are the hills of Santa Ana, 490 m.; the hills of Hædo, 400 m.; the Cuchilla Grande (high hills), 458 m. To all these hills join a great many others less high, the declivity of which form the lakes, ponds and rivers that give a great variety to the hydrography of the country. The climate all over the Republic is mild and notably healthy; there exist no malignous, endemical disease whatever. Neither the cold nor the heat is excessive. The middle temperature may be calculated to be, in winter-time of 11 degrees, in spring-time of 17 degrees, in summer of 21 degrees, and in autumn of 16 degrees. The maximum of heat in the month of January is 36°, and that of cold in the month of July is 3° above naught. The climate is a little dryer in the interior than on the coast. Along the coasts watered by the salt waters of the great mouth of the river Plate, the climate is thoroughly a sea climate, and the seasons never get to any extreme. Meteorological observations, made in Montevideo in the year 1843 and down to the year 1852 have given a middle term of 244 serene days, 85 cloudy days and 36 rainy days per annum. The last observations made by the "Uruguay Meteorological Society" during the year 1891 have given the following results; Atmospherical pressure, calculated in mm., reduced to 0, middle term, 760,572. Temperature of the air, in the shade, centigrade degrees, middle term, 16,23; minimum, m. t. 12.77; maximum, m. t. 19.36. Tension of the vapor, in mm., middle term, 10.98. Relative humidity (saturation = 100), middle term, 77.29. Inferior wind, prevailing direction N. N. E.; rapidity in meters by second, middle term, 3.81. Rain, mm., total: 711.8. Winter is so mild in this country that, in fact, the year may be divided into two seasons--the hot season, from November till April, and the cool season, from May till October. Whatever may be the geographical situation of his own country the foreigner does not need any previous acclimation; when he comes to live in this Republic he does not feel any disorder in his health, owing to the mildness of the temperature. The most ordinary winds are the N., N. E., E, and S. W. winds. This last one, called _Pampero_, is pure and vivifying and is rightly considered as the purifier of the Plate, and one of the principal causes of the wholesomeness which the country enjoys. Rivers--Rivulets--Ports--Docks--Dry Docks. With only looking over the map of the Republic, one gets an idea of its rich hydrography. Sixteen rivers flow through the territory, all being joined by more than 500 rivulets that increase their size and current. The principal rivers are the Plate and Uruguay, which bathe the coasts of the Republic, and the Rio Negro (the black river), which flows all through the center of the territory. The River plate, at its mouth, between cape Santa Maria and cape San Antonio, is more than 206 kilometers wide; its superficies are calculated to be over 39,846 kilom.; its length 361 kilom.; its breadth, between Colonia and Buenos Ayres, a little more than 51 kilom. The River Uruguay flows from N. to S., its length through the Republic is 530 kilom., its breadth from the Guazu down to the point of Fray Bentos varies from 10 to 15 kilom. After passing Fray Bentos it becomes narrow, owing to the multitude of islands which form deep channels. In its normal state it runs three or four miles an hour. It is navigable up to Paysandu for ships of great tonnage, and up to Salto for coast trading boats. The Rio Negro runs through the territory from N. W. to W., with an extension of 463 kilom. It is navigable for ships of small tonnage for 94 kilom., more or less. The other thirteen rivers are: the Cuareim, the Arapey, the Dayman, the Queguay, the Tacuarembo, the Yi, the Yaguaron, the Tacuari, the Olimar Grande, the San Jose, the San Salvador and the Santa Lucia. These powerful arteries, the waters of which are increased by numberless rivulets that empty into them, flow down to the remotest parts of the Republic and fertilize them. The waters of the River Plate, till a little further up than Santa Lucia are salt; beyond this they always remain fresh. The waters of the Uruguay, Rio Negro and other rivers of the interior have the property of petrifying animal and vegetable substances. Along the 1,073 kilom. of maritime and fluvial coasts, which are counted from the mouth of the Cuareim River down to the River Chuy, are the principal ports of the Republic. The most important ones are Maldonado, Montevideo and Colonia, on the coasts watered by the River Plate. There exist others of less importance, like those of Paloma, Coronilla, Castillos Grande, Buceo and also the bay, called the Englishman's Bay, (Ensenada del Ingles). Along the River Uruguay we find the ports Nueva Palmira, Carmelo, Independencia, Paysandu, Salto, Constitucion and Santa Rosa. Along the Rio Negro, those of Soriano and Mercedes; and along the San Salvador the port of San Salvador. The principal port in the Republic is that of Montevideo. It is estimated as the best port on the River Plate, owing to its natural conditions. It has the shape of a horse-shoe, being the two extreme points, which form its entrance, some seven kilom. distant from one another. The perimeter of the bay is ten kilom., and six hundred m. It offers ships a safe shelter, its entrance being towards the N. W. and its channel between 15 and 17 feet deep. The general depth of the bay is between 14 and 15 feet. The steamers cast anchor near the entrance of the port in the exterior bay where the depth gets to 25 feet. The port of Montevideo is not only the anchoring ground of the ships that have to load and unload, but it is also the port where all of the ships stop on their way to the Pacific Ocean, and also all the men-of-war of the nations which have a naval station in the River Plate. All the steamers of the rivers have their anchoring ground in front of the docks, where they all have their moorings at a distance of 125 m. from the wharf. Being the principal port where the commercial and naval movement is most important, Montevideo counts with two beautiful dry docks, belonging to private persons, one of them is the Maua Dry Dock and the other one belongs to Jackson and Cibils. They have both been opened in the quick rock, and have for their service all the most modern machines, admitting ships of all tonnage. Besides those two, there are a great many docks, dry docks and harbors, all over the bay and also in the ports of Salto and Colonia. Minerals. The territory of the Republic contains numberless riches not worked out yet, in precious metals, in copper, iron, lead, etc., in agate stone, rock, crystal, slate, calcareous stone, marble of all colors, which could advantageously rival with the marbles of Italy and Pyrenean mountains. Rich marble quarries exist in the department of Minas, which could not have been worked before on account of the difficulties for the transport, made easier and cheaper now days when the railway reaches to Minas 123 kilom. distant from the capital. The Cunapiru gold region is now worked by the following societies: Zapucay gold mines, with 20 crushing machines. Uruguay gold fields, with 60 crushing machines. Hermanos gold minings, with 20 crushing machines. The French Uruguay gold mine company, the working of which is stopped for the present, has spent in the region mentioned more than three millions of dollars, and has established milldams in the rivers Cunapiru and Corrales so as to employ, for the grinding, a powerful hydraulic strength. The working of the mines on a great scale is just beginning now without interruption. During the last two years over 72,000 tons of quartz have been extracted and crushed, giving a result of over 420 kilog. of fine gold. Mines of lead and copper and marble quarries are now worked in the departments of Minas and Maldonado. The agate stone is exported as it is found in the Catalan hills, department of Salto, and there exists in Montevideo an agent of the house established in that department, where are sold the stones worked out into art objects. In La Paz, near Montevideo, there exist quarries of red and blue granite, some beautiful pieces of which are employed as columns in some important buildings. Stone is abundant in the Republic. Everywhere in Cerro, La Paz, Sauce, Colonia and other places they continually open new quarries which permit a considerable exportation for the works undertaken in Buenos Ayres and La Plata. The Colonia quarries alone employ over two thousand workmen. Vegetation. The territory does not only count with its native trees the wood of which is employed in the industries and the rural economy; but all over its fertile soil do grow, reproducing themselves, and perfectly accustomed to the climate, nearly all the trees of the other regions. Among the native trees there are the _nandubay_, that has the property of petrifying itself under the ground, the _urunday_, the lapacho, the viraro, the coronilla, the espinillo, quebracho, tala, araza, the carob-tree, the black laurel, the timbo, guaviyu, copal, the white, red, brown and yellow willow, the mataojo, paraiso, the wild acacia, the ceibo and many others, the wood of which may be employed for making all kinds of casks and buildings, and also for burning. "The riches of the forests in this country," says Dr. Ordonana, perpetual secretary to the Rural Association, "belong to two distinct categories. The first one extends itself along the banks of the rivers and rivulets of the interior of the Republic, and the other is a consequence of the sediments, ground and sands brought down by the rivers that form the Plate, which, stopped by the banks of low Uruguay, give birth to plants like those described by clever botanists as Azara and Bomplan, as belonging to the regions of the Pilcomayo, Parana and Paraguay. "The trees are generally represented by a great many out of which no wood can be made, and small shrubs that give fruits, used in other times by the natives, gums and resins, stuffs used for weaving and dyeing, and a great many twining plants, among which there are the hisipo, of yellow flowers, and also the ilex-mate. "None of the plants we mention here have been considered, until now, worth being scientifically cultivated, although our Society has claimed for it many times, because, neither private persons nor private congregations, without the help of the government, can afford the establishment and maintenance of experimental farms, which are the true guides for studies and observations. "We have preferred here cultivating foreign trees, whilst we had here a great many much better than they, as for their wood, shade and elegance. "The private efforts of men we cannot forget have changed the aspect of our forests and also of the cattle of the country, by enriching it with new seeds and new plants and employing the combined means of nature and of work." In many departments the palm tree is found, also many kinds of fruit and ornamental trees. There are trees, shrubs and herbs with medicinal properties and good for dyeing and weaving, and also resinous, aromatic and alkaline ones. The series of the plants with healing properties is long; there may be found the sarsaparilla, the marshmallow, the liquorice, the rhubarb, the camomile, the wild celery and many other plants, which it would be too long to enumerate here. Among the fruit trees accustomed to this climate there are: the orange tree, the apple tree, the pear tree, the apricot tree, the pomegranate tree, the peach tree, the cherry tree, the lemon tree, the plum tree, the nut tree, the quince tree, the olive tree, the medlar tree, the almond tree, the chestnut tree, the fig tree, the date palm, etc., etc. Among the other classes we find the poplar, the cypress, the elm, the oak, the plantain, the acacia, the eucalyptus, the cedar, the magnolia, the white mulberry tree, etc. As for the cereals and vegetables, all kinds of them grow here perfectly and abundantly. Wheat, maize, barley, lucerne, are the principal rural products. The chick-pea, the French bean, the gray pea, the bean, the sugar-pea, the hastings, the lentils, the potatoes, the Spanish potatoes, the carrot, the radishes, the turnips, the pumpkins, the beet root, etc., and all kinds of pot herbs, the watermelons, the melon and the strawberry grow also abundantly. The grape vine, the flax, the tobacco, the canary seed, the cotton, the anise-seed, the hemp, the currin seed, the peanuts and many other classes give good results. During these last years the nursing of the vine, the olive, the lucerne, and the tobacco has spread itself a great deal. As for the flowers, there is such an immense variety of them and such a plenty that the Republic has deserved the name of "The country of sun and flowers." The industry of nosegays and crowns has reached an unheard-of development. Beside the garden plants that belong to the country, they nurse here all the varieties known in Europe. The environs of Montevideo count a great many important establishments dedicated to the commerce of plants, ornamental and fruit trees, all of the most valuable kinds. Animals. The native animal reign counts thirty-nine families; among them we find the deer, the buck, the otter, the _carpincho_ and many others, the skins of which are exported. There are more than 500 species of birds, among them the ostrich, the white stork, the wood turkey, the swan, the water duck, the heath cock, the moor cock, the partridge, the wood pigeon, etc. Among the singing birds the varieties are innumerable. Among the fowl, they bring up all kinds of hens, the duck, the goose, the pigeon, the turkey, etc. There are fourteen species of shells, and seven among the crustaceous. As for fishes, there are to be found numerous and rich varieties of salt and fresh water ones. Large quantities of the first class are taken over to Buenos Ayres every day by the steamers. Pisiculture is destined to have a great development here. An important fishery is already established on the coasts of Maldonado. The bringing up of salmon has already been tried. The only things wanting still are money and technical directions for the reproduction of the richest kinds of fishes, so as to supply with great advantage the Montevideo and Buenos Ayres markets. The principal industry in the country is the cattle and horse-breeding, which, as will further on be seen, produces in a prodigious way. This industry was introduced into the country in the time of the conquest by the Spaniards. Actually they improve and refine the cattle and horses by the crossing with the pure blood animals which continually come from Europe and the Argentine Republic. Already there exist important establishments with thoroughly pure blood animals born in the country, having already begun the wholesale of oxen and cows for consumption, and of horses for races and coach. The sheep are now a great deal finer. The improvement began in the year 1832, with two Negretti and Rambouillet rams, and this is the reason why the wool, for its good quality, is so much valued in European markets. Besides the merino sheep, a great many other races have been introduced, and among them some of very good flesh, like the Southdowns, of which there are already numerous herds. Division of the Territory--Situation of the Departments--Centre of Population. The territory is divided into nineteen departments. The superficial area of each of them is as follows: ===============+========+==========+=========== | Square | Square | Square Departments. | Miles. | Leagues. | Kilometer. ---------------+--------+----------+----------- Salto | 4.270 | 474 4/9 | 12.601 61 Artigas | 3.855 | 428 3/9 | 11.379 52 Paysandu | 4.490 | 498 8/9 | 18.252 34 Rio Negro | 2.870 | 318 8/9 | 8.470 88 Soriano | 3.125 | 347 2/9 | 9.223 51 La Colonia | 1.925 | 213 8/9 | 5.681 68 San Jose | 2.359 | 262 1/9 | 6.962 07 Flores | 1.531 | 170 1/9 | 4.519 36 Montevideo | .225 | 25 | 664 09 Canelones | 1.610 | 178 8/9 | 4.751 95 Maldonado | 1.391 | 154 5/9 | 4.105 57 Rocha | 3.757 | 417 4/9 | 11.088 88 Cerro Largo | 5.058 | 562 | 14.904 41 Treinta y Tres | 3.232 | 359 1/9 | 9.550 35 Minas | 4.230 | 470 | 12.498 32 Tacuarembo | 7.120 | 791 1/9 | 21.022 49 Rivera | 3.330 | 370 | 9.820 94 Florida | 4.102 | 455 7/9 | 12.107 15 Durazno | 4.850 | 538 8/9 | 14.314 89 |--------+----------+----------- |63.830 |7.036 6/9 |186.920 01 ===============+========+==========+=========== In the centre of the territory are the departments of Durazno, Flores, Minas, Tacuarembo, Treinta y Tres, and Florida, surrounded by those of Artigas, Rivera and Cerro Largo, situated on the very frontier of Brazil; the Department of Rocha on the Atlantic Ocean; those of Maldonado, Canelones, Montevideo, San Jose and Colonia on the River Plate; and those of Soriano, Rio Negro, Paysandu and Salto on the River Uruguay. All those departments count over a hundred centres of population, that is to say, seven towns, forty-eight villages, and thirty-nine colonies or smaller centres. Political Organization. _Government._--The constitution of the Oriental Republic of Uruguay establishes the representative republican system. _Sovereignty._--The sovereignty in all its fullness exists radically in the Nation, which has the exclusive right of establishing its own laws in the way determined by the Constitution. _Religion._--The Religion of the state is the Roman Apostolic Catholic Church. However, all dissident churches are tolerated and their religion can be freely practiced; the inhabitants enjoy the full liberty of thought. _High Powers._--The three high powers of the state are the legislative power, the executive power and the judicial power. _Legislative Powers._--This power is formed by two chambers, the Senate and Deputies' Chamber. The Senate is compounded with as many members as departments, these forming the political and administrative division of the Republic. The election is indirect. The President of the Senate is the Vice-President of the Republic, and performs the functions of the first magistrate in case of absence, illness, resignation or death. The _Deputies' Chamber_ is composed of 69 members, directly elected by the people in the way determined by the law on elections. _Executive Power._--The executive power is represented by the President of the Republic, who is elected in a general assembly of the two chambers by nominal voting, being required the absolute majority of suffrages expressed on ballots which are publicly read out by the secretary. His functions last four years, and he cannot be re-elected unless four other years have passed. The President appoints the Secretaries of State, or Ministers, who are five--one of Government, one of _Fomento_ (Public Education, Commerce, Industry and Railways), one of Finance, one of War and Navy, and one of Foreign Affairs. _Delegates of the Executive Power._--In every town, the capital of a department, there is a delegate of the Executive Power called Political and Police Chief (_Jefe politico y de policia_), and entrusted to make his dispositions obeyed. _Judicial Power._--This power is composed of the High Court of Justice. But as this court has not yet been regularly established, the United Tribunals of Appeal, composed each of them of three members, perform the functions of the High Court. It is entrusted with the superintendence of all the other judges. There exist in the Republic three Superior Judges (_Jueces Letrados_), for the civil, two for the commerce, one for the treasure, one for the criminal, and one for the correctional, and also nineteen ordinary judges for the departments. _Justice of the Peace._--There exist a justice of the peace and an attorney in every one of the sections into which are divided the departments. The members of the Justice of the Peace are elected by the people. They give sentence in all the affairs of small importance. The law of the 11th of February, 1879, has created the Civil State Register in all the Republic, and the inscription in this Register has been made obligatory the 1st of July of the same year. This Register is entrusted to the care of the Justice of the Peace, who performs the functions of Civil State Register Officer, and in it are inscribed all the births, marriages, deaths, recognizance and legitimation of the sons. The law of the 22d of May, 1885, declared Civil Matrimony obligatory throughout all the Republic, no other one being acknowledged as legitimate besides the one celebrated according to the law and according to the dispositions established in the Civil State Registers of the 11th of February, 1879, and their regulation and laws of the 1st of June, 1880, and 1st of July, 1884. _Municipality_ (Junta Economico-Administrativa.)--There exists a _Junta_ or Municipality in each department. The members of the municipality are elected by the people, and they are entrusted with the care of the municipal interests. The Montevideo municipality has a very great importance, being entrusted with the care of all the municipal services except that of the police. _Citizenship._--The citizens of the state are either natural or legal. Natural are all those born in the territory; legal, all the foreigners who ask for citizenship, after having proved their residence in the country for a determined time. All the citizens, whether natural or legal, enjoy the right of voting and _may be elected_ in certain conditions. The constitution of the Republic sworn on the 18th of July, 1830, among other articles, contains the following ones: Art. the 130th. The inhabitants of the state have a right to be protected in their life, honor, liberty, security and property. Nobody can be deprived of these rights, but according to the laws. Art. the 131st. In the territory of the state nobody can be a slave by birth; the slave trade and introduction of slaves are forever forbidden in the Republic. Art. the 132d. All men are equal before the law, be it preceptive, penal or defensive; the only distinction acknowledged is that of talent and virtue. Art. the 134th. The private actions of men, that do not by any way attack the public order nor harm any third person, belong only to God, and, therefore, remain beyond the authority of the magistrates. No inhabitant of the state will be obliged to do what the law does not bid, neither prevented from doing what the law does not forbid. Art. the 141st. Thoroughly free is the communication of thought, by words, private writings, or publications in the public papers, whatever be the subjects, without requiring any previous censure; the only responsible person is the author, or, in his stead, the printer, whenever the writing be abusive, according to the law. Art. the 146th. All the inhabitants of the state may undertake any work, industry or commerce they like, provided they do not harm the public order or the other citizens' rights. Art. the 147th. The entrance into the territory of the Republic is free to any one, as also his staying in it or going away with his goods, provided he respect the police laws and do not harm any third person. Language and Customs. The national language is the Spanish tongue. However, nearly all the languages are known in the Republic, on account of the great number of foreigners established here, and the great number of them who have continuous relations with the country. Nearly every native who has received a fairly good instruction speaks some foreign language. In Montevideo, where continually stop boats of all nations, the practice of French, Italian, English and German is quite general. In nearly every department in the Republic, and above all in Montevideo, exist a great many good schools belonging to the above mentioned nations. The foreigner who treads the Uruguay soil does not miss the customs of his own country, since the ones he meets here are nearly the same as in the principal European cities. A great many years of continuous communication with all the nations of the world has made, that the customs of all the civilized nations are quite familiar to the natives. Population--Its Density. In the Statistical Annuary corresponding to the year 1891 the population of the Republic has been calculated thus: Departments. Population in 1891. Montevideo 234,688 Canelones 64,772 Colonia 39,309 Soriano 32,617 San Jose 26,528 Flores 13,737 Florida 29,078 Rocha 22,237 Maldonado 15,757 Cerro-Largo 25,741 Minas 23,466 Treinta y Tres 17,297 Salto 32,827 Artigas 17,367 Durazno 25,020 Paysandu 29,962 Rio Negro 15,970 Tacuarembo 25,166 Rivera 16,629 ------- Total 708,168 In the year 1829 the population of the Republic was 74,000 souls, and in the year 1879, 438,245. The increase of the population has produced itself according to the following proportions: In 1882 505,207 inhabitants. 1883 520,536 " 1884 559,668 " 1885 582,858 " 1886 596,463 " 1887 614,257 " 1888 648,297 " 1889 683,943 " 1890 706,524 " 1891 708,168 " The increase of the population during the year 1891, if compared with the population in 1879, is of 269,923 souls, that is to say, 61.59 per cent. If we add to the total of inhabitants during the year 1891 a 6 per cent. on account of the omissions which probably took place in the calculations (omission of inscriptions of births, of declarations in the lists of passengers, etc.), we have a population for the whole Republic of, more or less, 750,658 inhabitants. Dividing the population into nationalities we see that out of a hundred inhabitants there are 70 natives and 30 foreigners. In Montevideo, however, the proportion varies, being of 53 natives and 47 foreigners. The density of the population throughout the Republic is of 3.78 inhabitants for each square kilometre. The Department of Montevideo, which has the smallest superficial area, is the most peopled of all the Republic, (353.44 inhabitants for each square kilometre); in it resides nearly the third part of the population of the country. Next to Montevideo, the Department of Canelones is the most peopled, (13.63 inhabitants for each square kilometre.) The above mentioned results are an evident proof that the territory of the Republic is still very little peopled, and that there is very easily room enough in it for many millions of inhabitants. Although the density of the population be but of 3.78 inhabitants for each square kilometre, it is, however, superior to the density of the population in the Argentine Republic, Brazil, Peru, Bolivia, Venezuela, Ecuador, Paraguay and Nicaragua, none of which get to that figure. Movement of the Population. From the year 1887 till the year 1891 have taken place in the Republic: Years. Births. Deaths. Marriages. 1887 25,132 12,573 3,428 1888 25,832 12,077 3,976 1889 26,981 12,882 4,175 1890 27,899 15,174 4,082 1891 28,696 13,146 3,524 ------- ------ ------ 134,540 65,852 19,185 Middle yearly term: 26,908 13,170 3,837 Proportion out of 1000 inhabitants: 37.9 18.5 5.4 So as to appreciate better the rank occupied by the Republic among the other countries as regards the movement of the population, the following figures may be considered as points of comparison: Births per Deaths per Marriages Countries. 1000 1000 per 1000 Inh'bit'nts. Inh'bit'nts. Inhabitants. France 25.8 23.8 7.7 Italy 37 29.1 7.8 Scotland 35 21.4 7.1 Ireland 26.9 17.8 4.8 Austria 38.6 31 8.5 Swiss 30.1 23.2 7.4 Belgian 32 22.4 7.2 Sweden 27.1 18.9 6.5 Norway 31.3 17.2 6.9 Denmark 31.1 19.7 7.8 Oriental Repub. of Uruguay 37.9 18.5 5.4 Therefore the births in the Republic prove to be in a greater proportion than in any of the mentioned countries, Austria being excepted, while the deaths, with the exception of Sweden and Norway, is in a smaller proportion, as also the marriages, Ireland being excepted. This great number of births and the corresponding diminution in the figures of death prove how easy is the purchase of the elements necessary to life; and how very excellent are the climate and the salubrity in the Republic. Movement of Passengers. Though the Republic has many ports Montevideo is, nevertheless, where takes place the greatest concourse of passengers. The movement from abroad and from the Argentine and Uruguay coasts has given the following results: Years. Passengers. Per Month. Per Day. 1883 60,388 5,033 167 1884 91,872 7,656 255 1885 99,059 8,255 275 1886 89,567 7,464 248 1887 102,396 8,533 284 1888 133,033 11,086 366 1889 153,811 12,817 427 1890 150,447 12,537 417 1891 104,945 8,745 291 The diminution which begins in the year 1890 is due to the economical crisis that began in that year, and the consequences of which are still to be felt. Immigration. The territory of the Republic being abundant in all natural resources and elements necessary to make easy any kind of work or industry one chooses to undertake, and the immigrant getting very soon accustomed to a climate and customs very little different from those of his own country, the Oriental Republic of Uruguay offers therefore all kinds of advantages to the honest and laborious immigrant who comes here in search of a remuneration greater than that he can earn in his own country. Thus is explained the large number of foreigners of all nationalities who have chosen this country as their second countryland, settling themselves here definitely and partaking with their families a wealth which allows them a good living, and is the base of their future modest or great fortune. In spite of the political disorders, the time of which, it may be said, has passed, and in spite of the economical crisis that, with more or less intensity, are common to all the countries that rapidly advance and progress, the Oriental Republic has always seen a great and constant affluence of arms and capital, that have contributed in a few years to display powerfully its productive energy, to create establishments and manufactures which, with their products, have increased the relations of exchange with all the markets of the world. Although the present times be not very favorable to the immigratory movement, the country is bound to recover soon, very soon, from the disorders suffered during the last crisis. Our own history, and also that of the other American nations, teach us that in a period of restrictions in business and settling accounts, the immigration always diminishes, but increases again as soon as it begins to feel the first symptoms of reaction towards a period of prosperity. The following figures demonstrate the oscillations in the immigratory movement, coinciding with critical or prosperous periods: Immigratory Movement in the Port of Montevideo from 1867 to 1891. ------+--------+-----------+-----------+------------+---------- | |Present'd | | | | |themselves |Have lived |Employed | | |to the |at the |in the | | |Emigrant |Emigrant |Capital or |Placed by Years.|Entries.|Board. |Board. |Departments.|the Board. ------+--------+-----------+-----------+------------+---------- 1867 | 17.356 | 1.913 | 187 | 2.586 | 1.802 1868 | 16.892 | 2.479 | 261 | 4.179 | 2.335 1869 | 20.435 | 1.861 | 87 | 2.261 | 1.661 1870 | 21.148 | 1.305 | 110 | 2.136 | 1.210 1871 | 17.912 | 743 | 22 | 2.555 | 714 1872 | 11.516 | 916 | 41 | 6.133 | 877 1873 | 24.339 | 1.480 | 51 | 6.651 | 1.444 1874 | 13.759 | 2.708 | 149 | 4.768 | 2.649 1875 | 5.298 | 1.493 | 113 | 5.699 | 1.401 1876 | 5.570 | 1.469 | 91 | 4.246 | 1.432 1877 | 6.160 | 1.913 | 120 | 2.810 | 1.884 1878 | 9.464 | 1.594 | 103 | 2.605 | 1.518 1879 | 10.829 | 1.587 | 13 | 2.206 | 1.515 1880 | 9.203 | 1.933 | 1.255 | 2.493 | 1.845 1881 | 8.336 | 1.416 | 1.251 | 1.700 | 1.322 1882 | 10.116 | 1.124 | 1.562 | 2.846 | 1.493 1883 | 11.086 | 1.067 | 1.274 | 1.402 | 1.022 1884 | 11.954 | 1.272 | 1.019 | 1.531 | 1.163 1885 | 15.679 | 1.857 | 1.320 | 1.236 | 1.266 1886 | 12.291 | 1.383 | 833 | 1.068 | 1.072 1887 | 12.867 | 1.406 | 1.144 | 1.619 | 1.047 1888 | 16.581 | 1.622 | 1.304 | 1.650 | 1.243 1889 | 27.349 | 10.446 | 10.446 | 10.930 | 8.867 1890 | 24.117 | 8.816 | 8.816 | 11.195 | 8.738 1891 | 11.916 | ...... | ...... | ...... | ..... ------+--------+-----------+-----------+------------+---------- The different nations to which belonged the immigrants that presented themselves to the General Emigration and Immigration Office in search of work, during the above-mentioned years are as follows: ======+=====+=====+=======+=====+====+======+======+======+========+====== |Span-|Ital-| |Eng- |Ger-| |Argen-|Portu-| Other | Years.|ish. |ians.|French.|lish.|man.|Swiss.|tine. |guese.|nations.|Total. ------+-----+-----+-------+-----+----+------+------+------+--------+------ 1867 | 360 | 743| 256 | 161 | 104| 33 | 31 | 54 | 171 | 1.913 1868 | 508 |1.093| 358 | 241 | 100| 38 | 24 | 49 | 68 | 2.479 1869 | 620 | 592| 244 | 146 | 119| 30 | 22 | 44 | 44 | 1.861 1870 | 514 | 376| 205 | 61 | 37| 17 | 15 | 18 | 62 | 1.305 1871 | 308 | 214| 106 | 16 | 32| 9 | 12 | 13 | 33 | 743 1872 | 423 | 202| 181 | 44 | 26| 10 | 1 | 12 | 17 | 916 1873 | 606 | 346| 359 | 26 | 27| 35 | 20 | 22 | 39 | 1.480 1874 |1.086| 961| 437 | 16 | 54| 74 | 21 | 22 | 37 | 2.708 1875 | 609 | 402| 279 | 8 | 55| 53 | 51 | 12 | 24 | 1.493 1876 | 453 | 500| 271 | 11 | 37| 47 | 43 | 4 | 103 | 1.469 1877 | 571 | 569| 358 | 35 | 54| 121 | 85 | 34 | 86 | 1.913 1878 | 529 | 492| 208 | 10 | 72| 48 | 46 | 19 | 170 | 1.594 1879 | 387 | 721| 230 | 31 | 43| 52 | 63 | 14 | 46 | 1.587 1880 | 405 | 939| 258 | 42 | 74| 74 | 73 | 9 | 59 | 1.933 1881 | 435 | 646| 128 | 12 | 38| 25 | 62 | 11 | 59 | 1.416 1882 | 370 | 518| 76 | 25 | 41| 14 | 22 | 14 | 44 | 1.124 1883 | 428 | 380| .... | 7 | 75| 18 | 31 | 15 | 113 | 1.067 1884 | 428 | 537| 103 | 12 | 62| 13 | 41 | 8 | 68 | 1.272 1885 | 607 | 916| 98 | 19 | 41| 11 | 40 | 14 | 111 | 1.857 1886 | 653 | 553| 61 | 8 | 29| 7 | 24 | 16 | 32 | 1.383 1887 | 618 | 423| 104 | 26 | 46| 14 | 18 | 34 | 123 | 1.406 1888 | 738 | 513| 176 | 27 | 45| 14 | 12 | 43 | 54 | 1.622 1889 |1.399|6.932| 670 | 78 | 126| 22 | 14 | 41 | 1.164 |10.446 1890 |1.073|7.341| 170 | 14 | 16| 13 | 3 | 19 | 167 | 8.816 ------+-----+-----+-------+-----+----+------+------+------+--------+------ Immigration has come here of its own accord, during times of prosperity; but the government has also tried to call it here by making easier the coming of immigrants from Europe, and their being led into the interior of the country, and also by giving land to colonists or by exhonerating others from all duties and taxes, either direct or indirect. During the years hereafter mentioned the government has given the following number of passages to immigrants who required them: In the year 1887 255 passages. " " 1888 124 " " " 1889 2727 " " " 1890 1133 " The immigrant enjoys here a complete and perfect liberty. Being a foreigner he owes no service whatever to the state. Dedicated to work, he is always respected, and wherever he may go in the Republic, he is always sure to find some of his countrymen who, knowing well the country and talking his own language, will give him all the information and references he may require. Besides this, on landing, he always finds interpreters who give him all the explanations he may need. Wages. The wages which are generally earned are according to the professions, more or less, as follows: _Apprentices_--Boarding and clothes, generally, per month. _Nurses_--From $6 to $12 per month, with lodging and board. _Bakers_--From $18 to $36 per month, without board. _Brewers_--From $40 to $50 per month, without board. _Wheelrights_--From $1.50 to $2.50; workmen 80c. to $1.00 per day, without board. _Chairmakers_--From $1.60 to $2 per day, without board. _Brickmakers_--From $1.00 to $1.20 per day, with board. _Hatmakers_--From $18 to $22 per month, without board. _Carpenters_--From $1.40 to $2.30 per day, without board. _Carters_--From $16 to $24 per month, without board. _Braziers_--From $50 to $80 to $100 per month, without board. _Colliers and Firemen_--From $20 to $27 per month, without board. _Cigarettemakers_--$1.20 per day, without board. _Cigarmakers_--From $1.50 to $1.80 per day, without board. _Coachmen_--From $20 to $25 per month, without board. _Hairdressers_--From $14 to $20 per month, with board. _Stagecoachmen_--From $35 to $40 per month, without board. _Confectioners_--From $20 to $40 to $60 per month, without board. _Foremen_--From $30 to $35 per month, without board. _Boltmakers_--From $1.20 to $1.50 per day, without board. _Shoemakers_--From $15 to $20 per month, with board. _Seamstresses_--From 60c. to 80c. per day, with board. _Cooks_ (_women_)--From $12 to $16 per month, with lodging and board. _Cooks_ (_men_)--From $15 to $35 per month, with lodging and board. _Servants, in general_--From $10 to $18 per month, with board and lodging. _Cabinetmakers_--From $1.50 to $2.00 per day, without board. _Gilders_--$2.00 per day, without board. _Brush and Broommakers_--From $1.00 to $1.20 per day, without board. _Reapers_--From $10 to $15 per month, with board. _Tinmen_--From $1.20 to $1.50 per day, without board. _Blacksmiths_--From $1.50 to $1.60; help, $1.10 per day, without board. _Waiters_ (_coffee houses, hotels._)--From $15 to $20 per month, with lodging and board. _Lackeys, Footmen_--From $15 to $20 per month, with lodging and board. _Watchmakers_--From $40 to $60 per month, without board. _Gardeners_--From $18 to $30 per month, without board. _Day Laborers, in general_--From 80c. to $1.00 per day, without board. _Machinists_--In printing houses, $80; on board steamers, 1st machinist, $180; 2nd machinist, $115; 3rd machinist, $90 per month. _Masons_--From $1.80 to $2.20; workmen, from $1.00 to $1.20 per day, without board. _Marblecutters and Polishers_--From $1.20 to $1,50 per day, without board. _Mattressmakers_--From $12 to $15 per month, with board. _Sailors, Mariners_--From $15 to $20 per month, with board. _Mechanics_--From $60 to $100 to $150 per month, without board. _Milliners_--From $20 to $30 per month, without board. _Wet-nurses_--From $20 to $30 per month, without board. _Pastry Cooks_--From $35 to $40 per month, without board. _Fishermen_--From $20 to $25 per month, without board. _Painters_--From $1.20 to $2.50 per day, without board. _Photographers_--From $35 to $55 per month, without board. _Potters_--From $1.50 to $2.00 per day, with board. _Schoolmasters_--From $30 to $60 per month, with board. _Firework-makers_--From $16 to $17 per month, without board. _Bookbinders_--From $30 to $35 per month, without board. _Sawyers_--From $1.80 to $2.00 per day, without board. _Saddlers_--From $1.20 to $1.50 per day, without board. _Locksmiths_--From $1.50 to $1.80 per day, without board. _Tailors_--From $20 to $30 per month, without board. _Stonecutters_--From $1.20 to $1.60 per day, without board. _Turners_--From $1.80 to $2.50 per day, without board. _Dyers_--From $15 to $35 per month, without board. _Bookkeepers_--From $50 to $200 per month, without board. _Coopers_--From $1.20 to $1.50 per day, without board. _Typographers_--From $40 to $45 per month, without board. _Basketmakers_--From $1.00 to $1.20 per day, without board. _Glaziers_--From $1.20 to $1.50 per day, without board. The working day consists of eleven hours, an hour being discounted for dinner and resting. The rent of the lodgings for workpeople in the town is five or seven dollars per month. Territorial Property. According to the declarations made in the year 1882 for the payment of the contribution tax, called the Immovable Contribution, the value of the property in the Republic rose to $211,991,679.00. In the year 1890, eight years later, although the cattle and some other products were declared free from contribution tax the value of property was $265,871,559, an increase of $53,879,880. The number of proprietors in 1882 were 39,590, and in the year 1890 50,189, an increase of 10,599. By nationalities, the proprietors in 1890 were in the following proportion: Natives, 24,946, or 49.70 per cent. Foreigners 25,243, or 50.30 per cent. The declared value according to nationalities was as follows: 24,946 Natives representing $129,130,344.00 785 Argentine, " 6,343,074.00 4,620 Brazilians " 31,766,571.00 8,886 Italians " 34,620,749.00 6,828 Spaniards " 30,845,671.00 2,582 French " 16,470,055.00 451 English " 10,386,895.00 330 Germans " 1,879,265.00 344 Swiss " 1,073,996.00 204 Portuguese " 1,540,471.00 7 Belgians " 31,238.00 7 Swedish " 12,438.00 32 Austrians " 391,746.00 4 Danes " 50,524.00 24 North Americans " 242,941.00 3 Peruvians " 2,748 00 6 Chilians " 40,143.00 1 Dutch " 2,700.00 8 Paraguayans " 33,496.00 121 Other nations " 1,006,494.00 ______ _________________ 50,189 $265,871,559.00 ====== ================= The capital by nationalities gives the following proportion: Native $129,130,344, or 48.57 per cent. Foreign $136,741,315, or 51.43 per cent. Out of the declared values Montevideo represents 13,812 proprietors and $128,280,000.00; to the other departments, 36,377 proprietors and $137,591,559.00. Transfer of Property. The operations, which during the following years, have been declared in the Registers for the purchase and sale of immovable properties, give the following totals: 1885 $14,276,454 1886 9,859,703 1887 18,683,365 1888 35,108,468 1889 63,546,624 1890 29,273,198 1891 22,267,381 Mortgages. From the year 1888 to the year 1891 the yearly capital put out at interest with securities on land has been: In 1888 $12,788,660 " 1889 27,821,672 " 1890 22,569,360 " 1891 13,545,853 How Easily One Becomes a Land Owner. There exist in Montevideo great agencies, like the one called the "Industrial" created in the year 1874, by Mr. Francis Piria, the sole object of which is to make easy the division of the property in the capital and the neighborhood, by purchasing large zones of land and by dividing them into square _cuadras_, or fractions of over four English acres, when they belong to the town district, and into the best possible form outside. This agency has created many villages out of the Department of Montevideo, as "Recreo de las Piedras," "Joaquin Suarez," "Buenos Ayres," "Bella Italia" and many others. The centres of population created by the "Industrial" are over a hundred; some of them have been aggregated to the town district, everyone of them becoming important centres, on account of the number of the inhabitants, and of the increasing value of the land, sold formerly very cheap, and payable at the rate of $2.00 per month. All the fractions of land have generally been bought by work-people who have built their own houses. According to the general balance and informations collected down to the year 1891, the "Industrial" agency had made 52,317 proprietors, and the fractions of land sold up to that time were 183,000, the result of the sale being $79,411. The number of houses was 8000. Those who bought some of those fractions of land a few years ago, payable in the above mentioned conditions, at the rate of 20 or 25 cents per metre, are now-a-days owners of properties which are worth two, three, four and five times more. The very same thing happens in the colonies or agricultural centres established in many departments of the Republic, the founders of which have given to the settlers all kinds of easy means for establishing themselves. Families of work-people that had arrived here with nothing but the means of facing the very first necessities have become, after a few years, owners of the land they had bought, payable monthly, and having increased their possessions by buying new land, they have enlarged the sphere of their operations and are now able to work over their own properties in a fully independent and easy situation. The advantages of such a system will be easily understood. With what a workman or settler pays monthly for the rent of the land, he makes himself, after a short time, the owner of the land and of the house he lives in, as the monthly rent redeems with a small interest the value of the property. In such conditions great many people are known who enjoy all these advantages, and many more, who being the proprietors of the land purchased in such a way have made small fortunes. There cannot be a better way imagined of fixing the immigrants or giving to the peasant all the means of becoming a proprietor and of consecrating himself to highly profitable agricultural industries. Value of the Land. The population has not yet reached a great density. The best part of the territory is destined to cattle, sheep, and horse breeding, in establishments called _estancias_. _A suerte or estancia_ is equivalent to 1992 hectares 2787 metres, or one league and a half in length by a half league in width, or three quarters of a square league or 4,923 square acres 333 square yards. The price of a _suerte_ varies according to the department and also to its situation. The lowest price of a _suerte_ is generally no less than $7,000 and rises above $50,000 in the departments quite close to the capital, that are still devoted to pastoral land. In the north, next to the frontier, land may be purchased at the rate of $3 to $10 an hectare. In the centre, from $6 to $15. In the south, the land rises to higher prices, which vary from $10 to $100 per hectare. The agricultural land in the environs of towns and villages, and in the departments of Canelones, Colonia, Soriano, San Jose, Paysandu, Salto costs $10, $20, $40, $50 and $100 an hectare. In the department of Montevideo it rises to $100, $200 and $300, according to the situation. There are no restrictions or difficulties in purchasing or transfer. Great companies established abroad, above all in England, and others in the Republic have purchased great tracts of land in order to improve cattle breeding, agriculture, sand and stone extraction along the banks of the River Plate and Uruguay, and other important rural industries. During these last two years the agricultural industry has notably spread itself, above all that of cereals, forage, firewood trees, vine, olive trees, tobacco and oleoginous and textile plants. The lowest rate at which a _suerte_ of land for cattle feeding can be hired is $400 a year. There are fields, however, that can produce two, three and four times more. The hectare of agricultural land may be hired at a yearly price of $1.20. In some departments, like that of Canelones, where the agricultural industry has improved a great deal, the yearly renting is $4.00 and more. The land pays the property tax or _Contribucion Inmobiliaria_, at the uniform rate of 6-1/2 per thousand in relation with the value that the law has fixed to the land according to the departments. Agriculture. The Oriental Republic of Uruguay is an essentially pastoral country. Its fields, covered with good and nutritive grass, are nearly all of them divided into _estancias_ for cattle breeding, that, to the present time, is the principal source of riches of the country. Agriculture, however, has already reached a high degree of importance in the departments of Montevideo, Canelones, Colonia, San Jose, Soriano, Paysandu, Salto, Florida, Durazno, Maldonado. It is not quite so important in the other departments as in the three first ones. However, in the environs of the villages and centres of population, there are great many farms and agricultural centres that produce cereals and vegetables for local consumption. The exceeding crop, in the prosperous years, is immediately sent to the principal commercia centres of the Republic, which allows the export of corn, flour, wheat, canary-seed, flax, trefoil, barley, etc. Although the Republic counts with a fertile soil, and finds itself in the very best conditions for any kind of agricultural industry, agriculture, however, remains still in a secondary degree, in spite of its late improvements, and in spite of the large extension of land which began last year to be cultivated. However, after all the necessities of the country have been satisfied there generally remains an important surplus of agricultural and rural products, when the crop is good, that may be calculated over $1,200,000.00. The wheat grown in Uruguay is reputed to be the best in all South America, and effectively got the gold medal in the Universal Paris Exhibition in the year 1878. In this country one _fanega_ of wheat (the fanega is equivalent to 105 or 113 kilogs more or less) produces sometimes from 20 to 30 fanegas; one of maize produces from 150 to 200, one of barley from 18 to 30. Besides wheat and maize, the sowing of which is most important, the grape vine, the olive, tobacco, flax, canary-seed, hemp, chick-pea, beans of all kinds, potatoes, (two crops a year,) peas, lentils, Spanish potatoes, beet-roots, etc., etc., are also cultivated with very good results. As we have said, the vegetables are produced in a great variety and abundance. The tobacco culture is also a new source of wealth opened to the economical movement of the country. Although this industry still goes rather slowly, there are already many establishments in the interior where it has been undertaken with very good results. Agricultural Centres. Many are the agricultural centres, generally known by the name of _colonies_, established all over the Republic, that, owing to the special conditions of the land which is fit for all cultures, have notably improved. Among the principal colonies, or agricultural settlements, there are: 1st. The _Valdense Colony_, founded in 1858. It has an area of 19,432 square cuadras (14,338 hectares 5,035 metres). Its population in 1884 was 306 families, forming a total of 1,681 inhabitants. To-day, there are more than 2,200 inhabitants. It possesses the best agricultural machinery, steam-mills, and steam and water mills, good carpenters, blacksmiths, and in a word all the establishments necessary to the unceasing progress of such agricultural centres. It has two Evangelical churches, a public library with over a thousand books, eight schools, a postoffice, a municipal commission and a police office. 2d. _Swiss_, _Quevedo_ and _Spanish Colonies_. The _Swiss Colony_ was founded in 1863. It has an area of 8,782 square cuadras, or 6,480 hectares, 709 metres. The _Quevedo Colony_ has an area of 5,091 square cuadras, or 3,756 hectares and 5,521 metres, and the _Spanish Colony_ 9,600 square cuadras, or 7,083 hectares, 6,576 metres. These three agricultural centres form a total of 17,320 hectares, over which live more than 420 families. They possess steam-mills, schools, many commercial establishments. In the Swiss Colony there are two churches--a Catholic and Protestant. The public administration of these settlements consist of a municipal commission, a justice of peace and an attorney. They also have a postoffice. 3d. _Sauce Colony._ The first settlers who cultivated the soil in this agricultural centre were some Swiss people who, in the year 1879, hired the land where it now exists, In the years 1880 and 1881 other families came and settled themselves close to the first ones. In 1883, thirty families more came from the Valdense Colony; so that in 1884 the Sauce Colony counted 59 families. 4th. _Riachuelo Colony._ It is 10 kilometres distant, eastward, from Colonia del Sacramento. The first settlers have paid for all the land they had bought, being now the sole owners of it. The formation and improvements of this colony are owed to the mere intelligence and work of the settlers. The land is of a very good quality and especially fit for wheat. The other plants like maize, barley, beans, potatoes, etc., give also a very good result. The settlers are mostly foreigners; and most of them are Italians. The colony possesses a large public building, which is destined to be the school and the church; besides this, it has also a national school of the first degree. The steam-mill that exists works only for the colony. The above-mentioned colonies are situated in the Department of Colonia, and besides those, there are also the _Arrue_ and _Belgrano Colonies_. 5th. _Nuevo Berlin Colony._ In the Department of Rio Negro there exists, since a few years, the Nuevo Berlin Colony. It has over 1,033 hectares in full culture, and possesses steam ploughs and all kind of agricultural machinery. 6th. _Porvenir Colony._ The colonies in the Department of Paysandu are the _Villa Rosalia_ and _Esperanza_ colonies, of recent foundation, and the so-called _Porvenir_ colony. This last one is the most important one, counting already over 1,690 inhabitants. The languages spoken in the colony are Spanish and Italian. The soil cannot be better, and is fit for all kinds of culture. It possesses steam and water mills, a threshing Rausanes machine and a Hornsby. It has three schools--a public one and two private ones--and many societies, every one of them working for the improvement of the colony, and also other societies, the object of which is the purchase of all the necessary agricultural machinery. The public administration consists of a justice of peace, two attorneys, a police officer and a postoffice. 7th. _General Rivera Colony._ It is situated in the Department of Artigas, and has an extension of 4,987 hectares, over which they cultivate tobacco, maize, _mani_ and _mandioca_; it counts now over a hundred families. 8th. _Francisco Aguilar_ and _Francisco Dastre Colonies_. They are situated in the Department of Maldonado. The executive power, in the year 1883, ordered the necessary studies to be made for the demarcation of the land where the Francisco Aguilar Colony was to be established. Out of the 2,114 hectares which formed it, 1,359 were destined to general cattle feeding ground, and 755 to ploughing. The administration of the colony is intrusted to a directive commission. In the year 1884 was established the Francisco Dastre Colony, in which 368 hectares are destined to ploughing and 59 to cattle feeding. 9th. _Santa Teresa Colony._ Situated in the Department of Rocha and founded on June 24th, 1885; it has 5,534 hectares, more or less. 10th. _Igualdad Colony._ It was founded in 1875, in the Department of Minas. It has a church and a school. 11th. _Harriague_, _San Antonia_ and _Lavalleja Colonies_. In the Department of Salto exist the colonies called, "Harriague," "San Antonio," "Lavalleja," "Cosmopolita" and "Estrella" that have all been founded a short time ago. The Harriague colony has an area of 1860 square cuadras, or 1372 hectares. The principal culture is wheat and maize. The San Antonio colony was founded by the government. The land was divided into small _estancias_ or _chacras_, or farms of 20 cuadras, more or less, each, that were given to some old servants of the state and settlers and are now consecrated to the sowing of cereals. The Lavalleja colony was founded in a field of government land, and occupied by many native families. The government ordered the land to be divided into _chacras_, every one of them being given to the first settlers and some old servants as a reward for their services. 12th. _Paullier Colony._ In the department of San Jose is situated the colony of Paullier Brothers, founded in the year 1883. Its extension is 6,298 square cuadras or 4,647 hectares. In 1884 its population was 400 inhabitants; now it may be calculated to be more than 500. The quality of the soil cannot be better. The cheeses of this colony are the best made in the country, and constitute an important industry. The cows are all of good breed, and besides them the colony possesses a large number of valuable animals imported directly from Europe and bred and fed under shed. 13th. _Rio Negro Colony._ This colony is situated in the tenth district of the department of Tacuarembo, between the Rio Negro and the rivulets Cardozo and Cacique grande. It has a superficies of 38,216 square cuadras, (28,198 hectares, 8,602 metres), out of which 1,249 square cuadras, (921 hectares, 6,133 metres) form the district of the village called "Teniente General M. Tajes"; the remaining part is divided into 361 _chacras_ or farms. The area of each _chacra_ varies from 29-1/2 to 88-1/2 hectares. A third part of the _chacras_ are already occupied, and although the colony is of a quite recent foundation the results obtained by the settlers cannot be hoped to be better. The colony possesses already six dairies. It is sure to become, very soon, one of the most important agricultural settlements, on account of its good situation, which permits the easy exporting of its products by the railway, not only to the interior of the Republic but also to the very frontier of Brazil. The land is very good for plowing, on account, also, of its situation and of the many rivers that run through it, and is quite fit for the sowing of wheat and maize, and also for the culture of tobacco and the grape vine. The village "Maximo Tajes" that belongs to the same colony has a railway station, a fruit market, a public square, a postoffice, a police-office, and very soon they are going to build a church and a school. 14th. _Antonio Crespo Colony._ It was founded in 1891 in the sixth district of the department of Tacuarembo, in the place called "Aldea," a league and a half distant from San Fructuoso. 15th. _Stajano Colony._ In the department of Durazno and at a short distance of the so-called town, the capital of the department, was recently founded a new colony, called "Stajano Colony." It has an area of 7,378 hectares and between 300 and 400 inhabitants; all along the river Yi it possesses many thick woods. The railway station is only one kilometre distant from the town. During these last two years, in all the rural districts devoted to cattle feeding, they have everywhere begun preserving part of the land for the culture of cereals, potatoes, etc. ... forages and trees fit for cutting and burning. Thus the production of the land has been increased still, and also the rural activity, preparing a total transformation in the cattle feeding and general rural industry of the country. 16th. _Piriapolis._ So as to give an idea of what the collective capital can do and what results all undertakings may obtain, the object of which is to foment agricultural industry and colonization, something is to be said here of what has already been done by that intelligent and indefatigable business man, Mr. Francisco Piria. At a distance of some 140 kilometres from Montevideo, by land, and 50 miles by river, over a superficies of 1,992 hectares, among very picturesque hills, watered by the River Plate and bounded northward by the ridge of hills of Pan de Azucar, lies the new establishment called _Piriapolis_, divided into two large fractions, one of which is devoted to general culture and various industries, and the other intended to be a bathing town, with its own port, a beautiful bay, and a large, neat and secure harbor. _Piriapolis_ was founded, at the most, two years ago, still it already possesses a large building for the direction of the colony, houses for two hundred workmen, 400 kilometres of land all surrounded by iron wire fencing, many natural wells, and brick ovens. They have also begun the drilling of many artesian wells. The plantations are 80 hectares, planted with vines (the plants are 2 and 3 years old); three millions of vine-shoot of the best varieties; a nursery with 200,000 olive trees; another nursery with a million of plants, ash trees, maple trees, acacias, etc., ... 300,000 trees to be planted next autumn in the streets and avenues of the bathing town. Groves of eucalyptuses, acacias and other quick-growing trees have already been planted all around the town, covering an extension of 400 hectares. Two hundred and sixty hectares have been sowed with wheat, beans, French beans, Spanish beans, potatoes and other vegetables. Great plantations of fruit trees have also been made, and the culture of tobacco has been tried over 80 hectares. Next year 50 houses more are going to be built, and also a church, a school, a municipal house and a police office. When all these works are concluded then will take place the solemn inauguration of _Piriapolis_. The soil in _Piriapolis_ is very good. The bed of _humus_ or arable ground is 30 centim., and sometimes 1 met., 20 centim. deep. In some parts there are beneath that bed of humus other large beds of carbonate of lime, from one to two metres thick. There are various springs of mineral waters, the properties of which have been officially recognized. Among the natural extractive riches of the colony, there are some 300 hectares of forests, the trees of which are between five and six metres high. The cutting of trees has already begun, and a result may be hoped of 6,000 carts of wood, that will give a liquid product of $1.20 each cart. There are also beautiful granite quarries, with pieces of stone some metres high. The granite of _Piriapolis_ can be extracted and cut very easily. Its price is hardly 20 per cent. of what it generally costs in the other quarries. A contract has been recently made for the purchase of 20,000 posts, 1^m 80 high, by 0^m 25 thick, at the rate of 15c. each. The Directive Commission intends to work the quarries on a great scale, and to establish the working of the stone. Actually, in _Piriapolis port_, they have begun to build a quay, a 100 m. long. The depths of the bay varies between 4 and 7 fathoms, at a distance of some 250 m. from the coast. A road is already opened to public service. It is 30 m. broad and on each side of it a double row of trees has been planted. This road puts _Piriapolis_ in communication with the rest of the Department of Maldonado, and will be useful for the trade and commerce of the Department of Minas. _Piriapolis_ is actually a reunion of farms and a territorial speculation, which is called to foment the density of the population and also the improvement of all kind of production; it divides the land and gives it every day more value, making it every day more productive by its agricultural industries, and also by the foundation of that bathing town, which secures a great consumption of the products, whilst at the same time the River Plate and the ocean permit the easy exporting of the same. The Grape-Vine in the Republic. The culture of the vine is improving a great deal in the Republic owing to the good results obtained by those, who some years ago, tried the establishing of vine plots, which is now one of the most important industries of the country and will soon be an inexhaustible source of riches for the Republic. Since a few years, great many people have consecrated important areas of their lands to the establishing of vine-plots, and to-day the extension of land covered with them is more than 2,000 hectares, the greatest part of which are already producing. Many societies have been created for fomenting that new industry, among which we may mention the _Viticola Uruguaya_ with a capital of $120,000 and the _Viticola Saltena_ with a capital $200,000. The _Viticola Uruguaya_ counts with: _Vine-Plots._ 17 hectares, with plants 5 years old, $3,500 $59,500.00 51 " " 3 " 1,500 76,500.00 24 " " 1 " 200 4,800.00 _Land._ 1,283 hectares, which have cost $28,279.65 Fencing 2,000.00 _Other Plantations._ 150,000 forest trees, 2, 3 and 4 years old at 10 cents each $15,000.00 8,000 olive trees, in nurseries, 10 cents each 800.00 2,000 fruit trees, 20 cents each 400.00 Various Plants 1,000.00 _Materials for Construction._ Existing materials $800.00 _Buildings and Cellars._ Existing buildings and cellars $8,000.00 ___________ $197,079.65 Although the culture of the vine was introduced into the country a great many years ago by Mr. F. Vidiella in the South, and Mr. Harriague in the North, it may be said that it is only six years ago since this culture has been really improved and spread with great intensity all over the Republic. The actual products of the best vine-plots may be calculated for each vintage over 6,000 barrels, that is to say over 1,400,000 litres, without counting the small vine-plots that, however, gives a fair contingent for domestic consumption. Owing to this production and also to the diminution in the consumption on account of the crisis of 1890, an important diminution is noted in the year 1891 in the importation of ordinary wines. Red and White Wines. Litres. Value. Imported in 1889 33,549,815 $4,173,917 " 1890 29,327,420 3,632,490 " 1891 21,483,614 2,634,547 After a few years more the importation of ordinary wines from France, Spain and Italy will be reduced to nearly nothing. A vine-plot, 30 hectares large and 14 years old, has given a liquid product, free from all duties, of $20,000. Therefore, owing to the advantages that the country presents for the culture of the vine, and owing also to the vigorous impulse given to that culture during the last few years, it may be said that the day is not far remote in which the Uruguay fields will be covered with vine-plots, producing all sorts of wines, not only for local consumption, but also for exportation to Brazil and the Argentine Republic. Uruguay Rural Association. Under this name there exists since the year 1871, in Montevideo, an important institution dedicated to protecting the rural rights and interests, and propagating all the sciences that may be useful to agriculture, cattle-breeding and all other rural industries. The Association is the editor of an interesting publication which, with the same name as that of the society, is issued twice a month. The members of the Association continually study all that may be of interest for the progress and improvement of agriculture, cattle-feeding and all rural industries; and their studies have been extremely useful to the country. Among the services rendered by the _Uruguay Rural Association_ may be mentioned the compiling of the _Rural Code_, which is considered now as one of the laws of the nation. This "Rural Code" entrusts to the Association the rural administration of the country, and the Government consults its members over all that concerns the rural interests. The Association possesses a large library with all the papers, reviews and books concerning rural industries. Frequently some of the members deliver lectures, which are afterwards published in the _Review_. Cattle. The war which ended in the year 1851, and, on account of its duration, was called the "Guerra Grande" (the great war), and the siege of Montevideo during nine years, contributed in a notable way to produce a diminution in the quantity of cattle and flocks which existed before in the Republic. The census one year after that war (1852) only gave as the number of live stock 3,858,176, thus distributed: 1,888,622 cattle, 1,127,069 horses, 19,490 asses and mules, 796,289 sheep, 25,300 pigs, and 1,406 goats. Eight years after (1860) when the second census was made, according to the declarations made for the payment of the Direct Contribution, there were 6,159,909 animals--that is to say: 3,632,203 cattle, 518,208 horses, 8,301 asses and mules, 1,939,929 sheep, 5,831 pigs, and 5,437 goats. In 1886, when the farmers had still to pay the tax, according to the declarations, there were 23,967,263 animals--6,254,490 cattle, 17,245,977 sheep, 442,525 horses, 7,032 mules, 5,405 goats and 11,833 pigs. These last figures, if compared with the former ones, prove an increase of 2,301,733 animals, or 59.65 per cent. over 1852, in favor of 1860; and of 20,109,087 animals, or 21.20 per cent. over 1852, in favor of 1886. This increase could produce itself, notwithstanding the great quantity of animals killed every year for consumption, slaughter of the _Saladeros_ and exportation of live stock, which represent considerable quantities. If we bear in mind the increase that corresponds to every kind of live stock in these last years, and the quantities of animals possessed by many thousands of inhabitants who do not pay any tax for them, it may be said that the number of live stock and the value it represents in the Republic is more or less, as follows: Cattle alone for breeding, and young bulls ($6.00 each) 8,000,000 $48,000,000 Oxen ($15.00 each) 690,000 10,350,000 Horses ($6.00 each) 599,000 3,594,000 Asses and mules ($12.00 each) 11,000 132,000 Sheep ($0.60 each) 23,000,000 13,800,000 Goats ($1.00 each) 24,000 24,000 Pigs ($6.00 each) 23,000 138,000 ---------- ----------- Animals 32,347,000 $73,038,000 If we distribute the 32,347,000 of live stock of all kinds over the 186,920 kilometres which is the total superficies of the Republic, we find for each square kilometre 173.05 animals; if we distribute them among the 708,168 inhabitants, we find that 45.67 animals of all kinds correspond to each inhabitant. As regards the value represented by live stock and corresponding to each inhabitant, we find $103.13 for each. The following table shows what place the Republic occupies among other nations: ======================+============================= | Heads of Cattle for every | 1,000 inhabitants. |---------+----------+-------- | Cattle. | Sheep. | Horses. ----------------------+---------+----------+-------- Uruguay Republic | 11,299 | 32,485 | 846 Argentine Republic | 5,464 | 27,955 | 1,868 Germany | 375 | 595 | 80 Spain | 185 | 1,404 | 43 France | 307 | 646 | 77 Italy | 130 | 324 | 37 Great Britain | 292 | 946 | 86 ======================+=========+==========+======== The rather cruel experience acquired during the crisis of the year 1890, the effects of which are still to be felt, has opened new ways to the economical activity of the country, and has given a new impulse to all agricultural pursuits. Notwithstanding the scarcity of capital and the difficulties of the ways of communication, the cattle feeding has improved a great deal, with the sowing of hay and pasture of all kinds, and with the crossing of the best varieties cattle imported from Europa or bred in many important national farms. The improvement of the varieties, in order to obtain better flesh, fat, milk, butter, wool and hides, and the taming of all the native animals, is absolutely necessary, and therefore is a powerful attraction for those who would come over to this country and dedicate themselves to cattle feeding and breeding, being sure, beforehand, of getting good profits by exporting live animals and also dead animals, by the frigorific system, to the Brazilian and European markets. The last two years have not been very favorable to cattle industry; but the present year shows itself as if going to be very propitious to that industry, which is in such a perfect harmony with the excellent qualities of our natural fields and meadows. Here, no pest, no contagious disease is to be feared for the cattle. The forage and water are wholesome, nutritive and pure; the climate cannot be better. With such conditions as these, it will be easily understood why cattle industry gives a profit of more than 20 per cent. and why it is generally a sufficient compensation to the scarce production of the bad years produced by an excessive dryness or a transitory diminution in the consumption of Brazil and Europe. Slaughter in the Saladeros. KILLING SEASON IN THE KILLING GROUNDS. There exist various _saladeros_ or killing grounds in the Department of Montevideo and along the coasts of the Uruguay. Some of them are very important. There they dry the flesh, prepare the _tasajo_ or dried meat, salt the hides, burn the bones and elaborate extracts of meat. To prove the importance of the _faena_ or killing season in those establishments in the Republic of Uruguay, we give the following comparative table: ========================================== | ANIMALS KILLED IN THE SALADEROS. | ----- Years. | Argentine Repub. | Uruguay Repub. -------+------------------+--------------- 1876 | 551,443 | 625,457 1877 | 662,500 | 527,600 1878 | 572,500 | 677,026 1879 | 539,000 | 556,500 1880 | 491,500 | 665,500 1881 | 399,000 | 576,170 1882 | 434,500 | 738,500 1883 | 365,100 | 704,400 1884 | 316,800 | 853,600 1885 | 610,700 | 647,029 1886 | 480,900 | 751,067 1887 | 327,208 | 499,554 1888 | 467,450 | 773,449 1889 | 701,400 | 708,923 1890 | 764,000 | 642,100 1891 | 844,600 | 613,500 =======+==================+=============== A description of every one of the saladeros that exist in the Republic cannot be given here, being so limited in the space to be disposed of; however, it is necessary to make known the importance of the great establishment for elaborating the extract of meat by the Liebig system. The establishment is situated on the coast of the River Uruguay, and is known to be the first establishment of its kind, not only in the River Plate, but also in all South America. The following lines will give an idea of it. Two kilometres southward from Villa Independencia, in Fray-Bentos, Department of Rio Negro, is the great establishment of "_Liebig's Extract of Meat Co._" which forms by itself an important center of population. It was founded in the year 1864 by M. Gibert. The first exportation of 230 kilogs of extract of meat got to Antwerp in November of the same year, and Baron Liebig declared that it surpassed all his hopes. Soon over 918 kilogs were exported monthly. In the year 1866 the Company was founded in London, and M. Gibert had all the machinery made in Scotland for the establishment, which began working in May, 1868. All the world knows now the extract, and its use is everywhere adopted, in the hospitals as well as in the barracks. At the Paris Exhibition in 1867 the highest prizes were given to M. Gibert for his _Extractum Carnis_, this extract being the only product out of 75,000 sent to the Exhibition rewarded with two gold medals. In Vienna also in 1873 it won the great gold medal over all the other systems employed in Australia and other countries. M. Gibert died in 1874. The establishment has gone on as prosperous as ever. It possesses great and valuable buildings with powerful steam engines to put in motion the great machines destined to all the different preparations. The _galpon_ or shed where the animals are skinned and cut up is a first-class one and permits the killing of 1,000 animals per diem. During the killing season of 1891 208,800 animals were killed, and in 1892 156,200. The extract exported during the year 1890, represents, according to the customhouse statistics, 820,670 kilogs, and during 1891, 711,564, giving a value the first year of $1,677,408, and the second year of $2,134,692.00 The establishment is provided with great platforms for the drying of all the materials necessary to prepare the guano or artificial manure, with spacious sheds and machinery for reducing the materials to powder, and also another shed for the grinding of bones. Over 7,500 tons of coal and 3,500 of salt are employed yearly. The different works in the establishment employ more than 600 persons: and the population all around the establishment is of 2,500 souls. It has good quays where ships of all draughts can come and be quickly loaded by powerful steam-cranes. It has a school where a good education is given to more than a hundred children, the sons of the workingmen; it has also a social club and a band, composed of the workmen. It possesses also all the workhouses necessary for the good preparation and packing of its products. Many _suertes_ of land belong to this important association in the place called "Rincon de las Gallinas," where more than 35,000 heads of cattle feed. The capital of the society is £500,000, divided into 25,000 shares, out of which only 24,300 were issued, the putting out of the other being quite unnecessary. The shares, the primitive price of which was £20 in London are now quoted more than double. (£42 or £44.) The dividend received by the shareholders varies between 10 and 12 per cent. This establishment gives life and activity to the important commercial centre of "Villa Independencia" and is a great stimulus for the cattle industry in the country. Trade and Commerce. The Republic has important commercial relations with all the principal European and American markets. Its commerce is represented by the variety of goods imported into the country and the agricultural products and cattle exported to other countries. The imported goods are, according to the statistics, all sorts of drinks, food and provisions, cereals and spices, stuffs of all kinds, clothes, materials for industry, machines and many other goods that cannot be classed here. The principal exports of the country are salted meat, _tasajo_, preserved meat, extracts of meat, tallow, horns, bones, hides, wools, preserved and dried tongues, ostrich feathers, live stock, corn, flour, wheat, canary seed, hay, oats, bran, barley, flax, vermicelli, potatoes, stone, lime, granite, pavements, agate stone, etc., etc. The following table gives an idea of the exports and imports of the Republic from the year 1862 to the year 1891. ------+------------+------------+------------- | | | Years.| Imports. | Exports. | Total. ------+------------+------------+------------- 1862 |$ 8,151,802 |$ 8,804,442 | $16,956,244 1864 | 8,384,167 | 6,334,706 | 14,718,873 1866 | 14,608,091 | 10,665,040 | 25,273,131 1867 | 17,657,918 | 12,077,795 | 29,735,713 1868 | 16,102,475 | 12,139,720 | 28,242,195 1869 | 16,830,678 | 13,930,027 | 30,760,705 1870 | 15,003,342 | 12,779,051 | 27,782,393 1871 | 14,864,247 | 13,334,224 | 28,198,471 1872 | 18,859,724 | 15,489,532 | 34,349,256 1873 | 21,075,446 | 16,301,772 | 37,377,218 1874 | 17,181,672 | 15,244,783 | 32,426,455 1875 | 12,431,408 | 12,695,610 | 25,125,018 1876 | 12,800,000 | 13,727,000 | 26,527,000 1877 | 15,045,846 | 15,899,405 | 30,945,251 1878 | 15,927,974 | 17,492,159 | 33,420,133 1879 | 15,949,903 | 16,645,961 | 32,595,864 1880 | 19,478,868 | 19,752,201 | 39,231,069 1881 | 17,918,884 | 20,229,512 | 38,148,396 1882 | 18,174,800 | 22,062,934 | 40,237,734 1883 | 20,322,311 | 25,221,664 | 45,543,975 1884 | 24,550,074 | 24,759,485 | 49,309,559 1885 | 25,275,476 | 25,253,036 | 50,528,512 1886 | 20,194,655 | 23,811,986 | 44,006,641 1887 | 24,615,944 | 18,671,996 | 43,287,940 1888 | 29,477,448 | 28,008,254 | 57,485,702 1889 | 36,823,863 | 25,954,107 | 62,777,970 1890 | 32,364 627 | 29,085,519 | 61,450,146 1891 | 18,978,420 | 26,998,270 | 45,976,690 ------+------------+------------+------------ The participation every country had in the imports and exports of the country during the last five years is represented by the following figures: IMPORTS. ====================+========================================== | PER CENT. |-------+--------+--------+-------+-------- | | | | | FROM. | 1887 | 1888 | 1889 | 1890 | 1891 --------------------+-------+--------+--------+-------+-------- | | | | | England | 27.26 | 32.32 | 28.44 | 27.17 | 28.85 France | 16.71 | 15.37 | 14.98 | 15.74 | 13.05 Brazil | 7.42 | 8.96 | 6.80 | 7.64 | 8.88 Spain | 8.73 | 7.49 | 7.10 | 6.71 | 2.63 Italy | 6.89 | 8.14 | 8.86 | 8.12 | 10.31 United States | 6.91 | 5.37 | 9.26 | 7.55 | 4.89 Germany | 11.53 | 10.32 | 9.32 | 8.67 | 9.72 Belgium | 4.86 | 5.41 | 4.42 | 4.59 | 3.85 Isle of Cuba | 0.88 | 0.61 | 0.51 | 0.60 | 1.10 Argentine Republic | 1.80 | 2.58 | 3.93 | 8.16 | 8.31 Chile | 0.39 | 0.40 | 2.38 | 0.86 | 0.67 Holland | 0.26 | 0.09 | 0.29 | 0.29 | 0.09 Paraguay | 0.61 | 0.44 | 0.23 | 0.40 | 0.51 Sweden | .... | .... | .... | 0.03 | .... Portugal | 0.10 | 0.08 | 0.09 | 0.13 | 0.13 India } | | | | | China } | 0.03 | 0.07 | 0.01 | 0.03 | .... Japan } | | | | | Peru and Ecuador | 0.03 | .... | .... | ..... | .... Switzerland | 0.10 | 0.04 | 0.02 | ..... | .... Mauritius | 0.05 | .... | .... | ..... | .... Austria | 0.01 | .... | .... | ..... | .... Canary Island | 0.01 | .... | 0.03 | 0.10 | 0.01 Russia | .... | .... | 0.56 | 0.04 | .... Various ports | 5.42 | 2.28 | 2.77 | 3.17 | .... --------------------+-------+--------+--------+-------+-------- Total |100 | 100 | 100 |100 | 100 ====================+=======+========+========+=======+======== EXPORTS. ====================+=========================================== | PER CENT. |--------+--------+--------+--------+------- | | | | | FOREIGN. | 1887 | 1888 | 1889 | 1890 | 1891 --------------------+--------+--------+--------+--------+------- England | 20.09 | 18.17 | 13.69 | 13.56 | 18.37 France | 13.29 | 16.27 | 20.13 | 21.04 | 23.27 Brazil | 13.67 | 19.39 | 12.69 | 11.27 | 17.55 Belgium | 17.96 | 12.25 | 15.84 | 10.80 | 13.25 United States | 8.16 | 8.31 | 5.55 | 6.89 | 6.85 Cuba | 5.12 | 2.22 | 0.96 | 0.81 | 1.29 Spain | 0.82 | 0.82 | 1.41 | 0.83 | 0.84 Italy | 1.69 | 1.32 | 1.47 | 1.23 | 2.08 Germany | 1.72 | 4.44 | 5.01 | 3.51 | 5.45 Argentine Republic | 6.00 | 7.34 | 8.82 | 8.77 | 9.16 Chile | 0.76 | 1.39 | 1.66 | 1.22 | 0.62 Paraguay | 0.03 | .... | 0.03 | 0.11 | .... Reunion Island | 0.08 | 0.11 | 0.02 | .... | .... Peru | 0.03 | 0.04 | .... | .... | .... Portugal | 0.79 | 1.04 | 0.77 | 1.15 | 0.68 Maloina Island | .... | 0.06 | 0.01 | .... | .... Canary Island | .... | .... | .... | .... | 0.01 Mauritius | .... | .... | .... | 0.20 | 0.04 Carribee Island | .... | .... | .... | 0.02 | 0.08 Barbado Island | 0.03 | .... | 0.01 | 0.01 | 0.01 Various ports | 7.67 | 6.83 | 11.93 | 18.58 | 0.45 --------------------+--------+--------+--------+--------+-------- Total |100 | 100 | 100 | 100 | 100 ====================+========+========+========+========+======== The trade and exterior commerce of the Republic in relation with its population has always been superior to that of the Argentine Republic and Chile. The following table shows that out of the imported goods during the year 1891, there correspond to each inhabitant $13.50 more than to each inhabitant of the Argentine Republic, and $3.61 more than to each inhabitant of Chile. It shows also that each inhabitant has exported $10.19 more than each inhabitant of the first country, and $14 more than each one of the second country. Argentine Republic (1891.) What corresponds ------- to each 4,000,000 Inhabitants. inhabitant. Imports $ 67,207,780 $11.80 Exports 103,219,000 25.80 ------------ ------ Total $170,426,790 $37.60 Chile (1891.) ----- 3,000,000 Inhabitants. Imports $ 65,090,013 $21.69 Exports 65,963,100 21.99 ------------ ------ Total $131,053,113 $43.68 Uruguay Republic (1891.) ------- 760,000 Inhabitants. Imports $ 18,978,420 $25.30 Exports 26,998,270 35.99 ------------ ------ Total $ 45,976,690 $61.29 The annual middle term of the commerce between this country and the United States of America from the year 1887 to the year 1891 is, for imports $2,014,267, and for exports $1,828,947; which proves a very important commerce between both countries, representing an annual value of $3,843,214 or $320,267, more or less, per month. So as to prove the importance of our commerce with North America, as well in imports as in exports, we give here the statistics of this commerce during ten years, from 1882 to 1891: Commerce Between the Oriental Republic of Uruguay and the United States of America. IMPORTS. _I.--Drinks, in General._ 1882 $ 66,733 1883 57,614 1884 20,826 1885 8,107 1886 11,849 1887 12,207 1888 7,432 1889 3,896 1890 5,796 1891 115 _II.--Eatables, Cereals, Spices._ 1882 $ 80,036 1883 57,923 1884 81,075 1885 93,125 1886 73,097 1887 60,538 1888 48,980 1889 1,008,650 1890 188,581 1891 21,239 _III.--Tobacco, Cigars._ 1882 $ 36,300 1883 28,235 1884 21,692 1885 31,510 1886 25,136 1887 24,386 1888 19,122 1889 26,234 1890 25,018 1891 17,074 _IV.--Stuffs, Cloth, Etc._ 1882 $ 39,874 1883 47,849 1884 74,862 1885 86,230 1886 87,942 1887 118,346 1888 72,011 1889 99,590 1890 61,471 1891 38,320 _V.--Linen, Clothes._ 1882 $ 593 1883 3,562 1884 1,809 1885 1,622 1886 3,011 1887 3,155 1888 1,316 1889 2,562 1890 1,675 1891 2,844 _VI.--Materials for the Industries, Machinery._ 1882 $ 843,069 1883 623,170 1884 959,800 1885 1,349,687 1886 626,703 1887 985,165 1888 1,013,824 1889 1,660,774 1890 1,730,105 1891 404,659 _VII.--Various Goods._ 1882 $ 370,106 1883 355,280 1884 412,862 1885 474,826 1886 419,081 1887 498,167 1888 422,223 1889 609,895 1890 432,390 1891 443,675 EXPORTS. _I.--Live-stock._ From the year 1882 to the year 1891, there was no export of live-stock. _II.--Cattle Industry, Saladeros._ 1882 $ 2,344,794 1883 2,185,125 1884 1,781,766 1885 4,365,929 1886 2,714,172 1887 1,519,267 1888 2,322,854 1889 1,436,348 1890 2,003,739 1891 1,839,922 _III.--Rural Products._ From 1882 to 1885 there was no export. 1886 $ 6 1887 30 1888 17 1889 25 1890 ... 1891 24 _IV.--Various Goods._ 1882 $ 2,260 1883 2,036 1884 3,387 1885 4,661 1886 4,906 1887 3,558 1888 4,128 1889 4,939 1890 477 1891 9,412 Money. The coined money, imported and exported, has been during the last five years: Years. Import. Export. 1887 $3,500,440 $ 7,127,147 1888 7,497,586 7,614,147 1889 5,696,111 10,148,668 1890 7,733,806 7,515,048 1891 6,417,405 5,618,582 Navigation. The general navigation movement in the various ports of the Republic has become of great importance, owing to the commercial improvements and to the exemption from taxes granted by national legislation. The following table gives an idea of it: Years. Ships. Tonnage. 1875 20,394 3,116,161 1876 21,448 3,845,056 1877 22,102 4,370,721 1878 20,915 4,327,504 1879 22,272 4,595,040 1880 21,811 4,369,759 1881 23,053 4,435,860 1882 23,136 5,007,708 1883 22,837 5,422,538 1884 26,764 7,205,653 1885 29,731 8,590,543 1886 28,542 8,277,662 1887 29,994 9,423,337 1888 35,203 10,551,624 1889 35,582 12,444,462 1890 32,213 11,442,894 1891 27,207 9,482,644 During the last two years a diminution is observed, owed to the crisis and to the competition made by the Argentine ports--competition which will disappear when the work undertaken to improve Montevideo's port is complete, the project of which is already studied. During the year 1891 have entered the ports of the Republic: Tons. From abroad 1,092 ships, with 1,429,661 From the Rivers: Gen. coasting trade. 2,941 " " 1,302,648 Receptories 9,637 " " 2,009,951 --------- 4,742,260 The ships were: Tons. 7,099 steamers, with 4,157,905 6,571 sailing vessels, with 584,295 --------- 13,670 vessels, with 4,742,200 That is to say, 1,139 vessels with 395,183 tons per month, or 37 vessels with 13,006 tons per day. As regards the nationality of the 13,670 vessels entered, there were 5,229 national vessels, with 460,467 tons, and 8,441 foreign vessels, with 4,281,793 tons. Of all the ports in the Republic Montevideo is the most important one. During the year 1891 there entered: _From Abroad._ Tons. 434 sailing vessels, with 275,184 658 steamers, with 1,154,477 ----- --------- 1,092 vessels, with 1,429,661 _From the Rivers--Coasting Trade._ Tons. 1,680 sailing vessels, with 85,542 1,261 steamers, with 1,217,106 ----- --------- 2,941 vessels, with 1,302,648 Which gives a total of 4,033 vessels, with 2,732,309 tons, for the year 1891. The nationality of the vessels which entered the port of Montevideo was: ==============+=========+=========+=========+========== Flags | Sailors | Tons | Steamers| Tons. --------------+---------+---------+---------+---------- Germany | 21 | 14.136 | 112 | 183.450 Argentine Rep | 1 | 192 | 5 | 515 Austria | 7 | 4.673 | .. | ..... Brazil | 4 | 1.041 | 42 | 30.721 Belgium | .. | ..... | 20 | 33.668 Denmark | 10 | 1.842 | .. | ..... Spain | 73 | 21.463 | 15 | 30.577 Chile | .. | ..... | 1 | 22 France | 1 | 565 | 97 | 236.963 Holland | 9 | 5.490 | 1 | 2.267 England | 103 | 85.818 | 258 | 456.690 Italy | 58 | 35.129 | 97 | 174.812 North America | 19 | 10.720 | 2 | 3.081 Uruguay Rep. | 1 | 247 | 8 | 1.711 Russia | 4 | 3.921 | .. | ..... Sweden | 123 | 89.947 | .. | ..... |---------+---------+---------+---------- Total | 434 | 275.184 | 658 |1.154.477 ==============+=========+=========+=========+========== The vessels coasting were: Ships. Tons. With the national flag 1,551 99,538 With foreign flag 1,390 1,203,110 ----- --------- 2,941 1,302,648 Goods. According to the statistics the goods moved in the harbor of Montevideo during the last five years are calculated thus: 1887 1,187,557 1888 1,411,686 1889 1,773,610 1890 1,316,296 1891 1,089,992 --------- 6,779,141 That is to say, a middle term of 1,355,828 tons moved per year, or 112,985 per month. Lighthouses. Along the coasts of the Republic, watered by the Atlantic Ocean and the River Plate, there are eleven lighthouses, established in the most convenient points, to guide and advise the sailors. To them must be attributed the notable diminution in the number of shipwrecks. =================+=========+=======+==============+=========== | | | | Situation | Light | Class | Luminous | Tax to | | | power | be paid -----------------+---------+-------+--------------+----------- Cape Santa Maria | flash | 1st | 18 miles | 2 cts. Polonio | steady | 3d | 15 & 16 " | 1-3/4 " Jose Ignacio | " | 3d | 15 " | 1 " Punta Brava | " | 4th | 8 " | 1 " Farallon | " | 3d | 15 " | 1 " Panela | " | 4th | 9 " | 1 " Colonia | turni'g | 3d | 12 " | 1 " Cerro | " | 1st | 25 " | 1 " Isle of Flores | " | 2d | 15 " | 1 " Banco Ingles | steady | 3d | 9 " | 1 " Punta del Este | flash | 2d | 16 & 18 " | 1 " =================+=========+=======+==============+========== Lazaretto. The Republic possesses one Lazaretto, established in the Isle of Flores, at a distance of 17 miles southeast from Montevideo. It is quite comfortable and provided with everything that may be required for disinfecting and fumigating luggage and correspondence. There is a telegraph and telephone line established between Montevideo and the Lazaretto. Interior Commerce. It has not yet been possible to calculate exactly and completely the interior commerce of the Republic, between Montevideo and all the other Departments. Statistics only give the figures representing the cattle and rural products imported to Montevideo by the Departments and that come by railway for local consumption and export. This commerce gave, during the last five years, a total of 143,446 carts, that is to say a yearly middle term of 28,689. There arrive daily to the Montevideo markets, by railroad and by the rivers, great quantities of skins, (oxen, horses, sheep) wool, horns, bones, tallow, ostrich feathers and other products of cattle industry, and among rural products great quantities of corn, wheat, flour, canary-seed, barley, mustard-seed, potatoes, garlick, French beans, onions, pumpkins, eggs, butter, fowl, cheeses, paving and lime stone, spirits and many other goods it would be too long to mention here. There is an important increase every year in the quantity of cattle destined to local consumption, to the Montevideo saladeros and export. Trade-Houses, Industries, Professions. During the year 1891, 20,328 licenses were paid for by trade-houses, industries, professions and work-houses. The nationality of those who asked for their trade patent was: Natives 4,134 Argentines 370 Brazilians 166 Italians 7,995 Spaniards 5,336 French 1,324 English 130 Germans 173 Swiss 186 Portuguese 116 Belgians 7 Swedish 7 Danes 5 Norwegians 6 Dutch 1 Austrians 52 North-Americans 28 Russians 6 Peruvians 1 Chilians 12 Paraguayan 11 Other Nations 262 Among the most important industries, must be mentioned: the Liebig Extract of Meat Company, the _saladeros_ or killing grounds, the spirits, wine and beer manufactures, flour mills, the starch and vermicelli manufactures, the soap, suet and oil manufactures, the gas, electric light and water companies, the match, brick, shoe and wooden shoe manufactures, the tan-yards, saw-mills, etc., etc. There are in Montevideo a great many important spirit, wine, brandy, beer and match manufacturers; and there are sixteen of them in the departments. The Montevideo manufacturers give an annual product of: Alcohol, 2,000,000 litres. Beer, 1,700,000 " Matches, 55,000 grosses. Wine and Spirits, 400,000 litres. According to the declarations made for the payment of the license tax, the capital represented by the trade houses, industries, etc, is $89,329,539. The clerks employed by all these houses, manufactures and industries, were 11,639, and the workmen of various nationalities 16,621. As a demonstration of the industrial importance and progress of the country, among many other establishments, the description of which cannot be made here for want of space, one may mention the great brewery _Germania_, established under the direction of Engineer J. A. Capurro. It occupies a magnificent building situated in the "Playa Honda" in front of the Montevideo Bay. Its construction and interior distribution completely corresponds to all the technical necessities required for beer manufacturing. It is provided for night working, with electric light produced by a eight-horse dynamo and 68 lamps. The establishment was built and is worked by a stock company. It receives the waters of the River Santa Lucia, the very purest, the same that is drank in the town. It possesses, nevertheless, two immense filters, so as to make the water still purer. The machinery comes from the renowned German manufacture of Chemnitz; it is 25 horse-power, and can give from 18,000 to 20,000 litres per day. The receiving depositories are two, the first one of a capacity of 12,000 litres, and the second of 8,000 litres; the cooling depositories can receive 9,000 litres every hour and a-half, with a temperature that can go to 14° under naught. The clarifying is made by three filters of the most modern system, without any paper application. The fermentation cellar contains three large tubs of a capacity of 3,000 and 3,500 litres. There are also 6 great cellars, for depositories, with 34 tubs each; 18 of them can contain 5,000 litres each and the other 16, 3,500 litres. With a compressed air machine they cork 10,000 bottles a day. The ice depositories are beautiful; they always remain at a temperature of 12 or 20° under nought. The "_Germania_" also has many other depositories for the raw materials, empty bottles and casks, another for 5,000 litre tubs, brought on purpose from Germany; a forge, a workshop for cask-making, ten carts and stables for 30 horses, and many offices. It possesses a quay on the bay for loading and unloading and, during the season of most activity, employs over a hundred workmen and clerks. This establishment represents a capital of over half a million dollars. During the season it sells over 200,000 litres per month to nearly 1,500 or 2,000 establishments. The same society possesses also a starch and an alcohol manufactory. They are very important establishments, provided with the very latest inventions of European and North American manufacture. In the same conditions are also the Richling and Niding Beer Manufactories. Banks, Anonymous Societies. The Republic counts with a great many banks and anonymous societies, that make easier all commercial transactions. The emission banks are: The _London and River Plate Bank_, that on December 31, 1891, had an active capital of $8,911,000; the _Italian Uruguay Bank_, with an active capital of $7,714,521; the _Spain and River Plate Bank_, with $4,614,752; the _Italo-Oriental_, with $10,432,276, and the other banks called _National Bank_, _English and River Plate Bank_, which actually are in liquidation, being the active of the first bank, 31st December, 1890, $61,630,320, and that of the second, $15,298,406. Among the discounting banks, there are the _Commercial Bank_, the _French Bank_, the _South America British Bank_, the _Anglo-Argentine Bank_. The principal anonymous societies are; The "Credito Real Uruguayo," the "Industrial," the "Cobranzas, locacion y Anticipos," the "Agencia de Tierras," the "Colonization y Fomento del Uruguay," the "Caja de Credito Uruguayo," the "Auxiliar de Credito y Alquileres," the "Co-operativa de Consumo," the "Caja Nacional Uruguaya," the "Edificadora de Montevideo," the "Mercantil del Plata," the "Vegas Uruguayas," the "Viticola Uruguaya," the "Viticola Saltena" and many others that represent important capitals. Commerce Halls. In Montevideo there is the important commercial centre called "Bolsa Montevideana," or Montevideo Exchange Hall. There are also the French, the Italian and the Spanish Commercial Boards, that make easier and easier the exchange of goods between the Republic and France, Italy and Spain. Means of Communication and Conveyance. All the towns and villages of Uruguay littoral communicate with the capital by the regular service of beautiful steamers between Montevideo and Salto, stopping in all the ports of the Uruguay and Argentine Republic littoral. Other steamers start from Montevideo for Paraguay and Matto-Grosso (Brazil.) The lines of transatlantic steamers establish constant communications between the Republic and European and American ports. By land, a great many places in the Republic are put in communication by the railways and by the telegraph, established also between Montevideo and Europe, Brazil, the Pacific and Argentine Republic. Where the railways are not yet established, there is a good and regular service of stage-coaches. Railways. There are already seven railway lines in the Republic, the service of which is quite regular and comprehends an extension of 1,567 kilometres. Some other lines are in way of formation, and for some others the necessary preliminary studies have begun, comprising a new extension of 1,231 kilometres. The railways already established are: 1st. _The Central Uruguay Railway._ It starts from Montevideo, runs through the whole territory of the Republic, till it reaches the capital of the Department of Rivera, on the very frontier of Brazil, in front of "Santa Ana do Livramento," that is to say, with an extension of 575 kilometres. Besides this, it has also another line of 32 kilometres from "25 de Agosto" to "San Jose." 2d. _The Northeast Uruguay Railway_, between Montevideo and Minas, with an extension of 122 kilometres. 3d. _The "East Extension" Railway_, between Toledo Station, which belongs to the Northeast Uruguay Railway and Nico Perez, with an extension of 206 kilometres. 4th. _The North Railway_, between Montevideo and Santa Lucia, where are established the municipal slaughter houses. This railway furnishes with meat all the Montevideo markets and has an extension of 23 kilometres. 5th. _The Northwest Uruguay Railway_, from Salto to the River Cuareim, through the Department of Artigas, with an extension of 178 kilometres. In "Paso del Correo," where this line stops, begins the Brazilian Uruguayana Line. 6th. _The Midland Uruguay Railway_ joins with the Central Railway in "Paso de los Toros" and with the Northwest Railway in the town of Salto and has its principal station in Paysandu, with an extension of 317 kilometres. 7th. _The North Uruguay Railway_ between Isla Cabellos, which belongs to the Northwest Line and San Eugenio in front of San Juan Bautista (Brazil). It runs through the Department of Artigas and has an extension of 114 kilometres. River Steamers. There exist many important navigation companies with beautiful and comfortable steamers for the service of the River Plate, Uruguay and Parana. Among these companies the English company _Platense_ must be mentioned. With its twenty steamers it represents an important capital. It possesses its own docks and wharfs in this republic and in the Argentine Republic. The principal steamers of the _Platense_ are called: _Venus_, _Eolo_, _Apolo_, _Minerva_, _Olimpo_, _Saturno_, _Cosmos_ and _Helios_, the finest of all, recently constructed. All these steamers have electric light on board. They all go to Buenos Ayres and stop in Martin Garcia, Nueva Palmira, Mercedes, Fray Bentos, Gualeguaychu, Concepcion del Uruguay, Paysandu, Villa Colon, Guaviyu, Concordin, Salto and vice versa. The steamers of the other companies have more or less the same itinerary. The movement of goods and passengers is important and has always given good benefits to all the companies. The journey between Montevideo and Buenos Ayres is of a few hours. The steamers start from Montevideo at 6 p.m. and get to Buenos Ayres, generally, at 4 next morning. The very same day, at 10 a.m. they start again for the ports of the Uruguay; getting to Salto the next day. Stage Coaches. In all the departments where railways are not yet established there is a regular service of stage coaches putting the various railway lines in communication and making easier the conveyance of goods and passengers. Tramways. In Montevideo there are nine tramway lines: 1st Union and Maronas Tramway; 2nd Paso del Molino and Cerro Tramway; 3rd Eastern Tramway; 4th Buceo and Union Tramway; 5th North Tramway; 6th Oriental Tramway; 7th Reducto Tramway; 8th Montevideo Tramway; 9th Central Tramway. In nearly all the streets of Montevideo there is a tramway line and with such a shortening of the distances life and activity are a great deal increased. In the centre of the town the tramway ticket costs 4 cents, and from one extremity of the line to the other it costs 10 cents. During the year 1891 all these tramways made 916,798 journeys, which represent 9,285,940 kilometres, they conveyed 18,000,000 passengers. They possess 507 coaches and 3,622 horses. The number of men employed by the tramway companies is 1029. They have 14 stations. In the town of Paysandu there is also a tramway line. Telegraph. The telegraph, as it may be seen on the map, is established all over the Republic and in communication with all the towns of Europe and America. The different telegraph companies are: Telegraph Cable. The National Telegraph Co kilom. 951 15 The Platino Brasilero " 829 ... Rio de la Plata " 233 160 The Western and Brazilian Co., Oriental Line " ... 694 Telefonica del Plata " 180 45 The Oriental " 1,362 ... The Platense, Brasilero, United States direct " 250 ... ----- --- 3,805 914 Telegraph of the railway lines " 1,568 ----- --- " 5,373 914 There are two telegraph companies more between Salto and Concordia and between Paysandu and Concepcion del Uruguay (Argentine Republic). But they are of little importance. The number of telegrams sent by the various companies was, in 1891, 256,467. Navigation Companies. Many European and American Companies have their agencies in Montevideo. The principal ones are: Italian Company _La Veloce._ French Company _Chargeurs Reunis._ English Company _Royal Mail Steam Packet Company._ Spanish Company _La Trasatlantica._ French Company _Messageries Maritimes._ French Company _Nouvelle Compagnie Marseillaise._ English Company _Pacific Steam Navigation Company._ N. American Company _United States and Brazil Mail._ English Company _Shaw, Savill & Albion Co., limited._ English Company _New Zealand Shipping Co., limited._ Italian Company _Navigazione Generale Italiana. Societa Riunite_ (_Florio e Rubattino_). Italian Company _Fratelli Lavarello Fu Gio Batta._ Italian Company _La Genovesse._ French Company _Transports Maritimes a vapeur._ English Company _Lamport Holt Line._ Brazilian Company _Companhia Nacional de Navegacao a vapor._ All these steamers put Montevideo in direct communication with Barcelona, Genoa, Naples, Dakar, Lisbon, Bourdeaux, Rio Janeiro, Saint Vincent, Vigo, Bahia, Pernambuco, Marseilles, Havre, Santa Cruz of Tenerif, Dunkirk, Plymouth, Liverpool, London, New Zealand and also the ports of the Pacific Ocean and those of North America. Telephone. In many points of the Republic telephone lines are established. The principal lines in Montevideo are: The Co-operative Co., the Telefonica Nacional Co., the Telefonica de Montevideo Co. During the year 1891 these lines have had 21,000 daily communications. They have 3,600 subscribers and the wires they employ represent 5,500 miles. They have 10 offices and employ 174 persons, 74 men and 100 women. The capital of each company is: The Telefonica de Montevideo $220,000, the Telefonica Nacional $105,000, the Telegrafica Telefonica del Plata Company has established a telephone line between Montevideo and Buenos Ayres. Postage. The movement in the Postoffices of the Republic is greater every day, owing to the continual improvement of the ways of communication. The following table gives an idea of the movement in the Montevideo Postoffice: Letters, Years. Papers, etc. 1885, 12,203,381 1886, 11,407,596 1887, 17,157,345 1888, 20,171,929 1889, 21,366,472 1890, 21,534,209 1891, 20,105,295 The movement during 1891 may be divided thus: Letters, in general 6,152,654 Business papers, samples 543,127 Official correspondence 423,178 Post-cards 55,955 Papers, etc. 12,930,381 ---------- 20,105,295 Carriages, Coaches, Etc. The number of coaches is very considerable in the Republic. Montevideo alone counts over 4,000 carts and more than 700 carriages. Public Education. Primary education is gratuitous and obligatory in all the Republic. The public schools are at the expense of the State, that gives the books and all the necessary materials. Since the year 1877, in which was issued the law on public education, the primary education has improved a great deal. The reform of the primary schools was initiated in the year 1868 by a private society, founded by the great reformer, Jose Pedro Varela, the Horace Mann of Uruguay, under the name of "Friends of Popular Education Society," which created an application school, called "Elbio Fernandez," in honor of one of the founders of the society. Various North American books and manuals were then translated for the use of the schools and masters. Varela's ideas soon were diffused among the people, and the reformer was appointed to a high situation in the Public Instruction Board, in the year 1876. Immediately he reformed all the official schools, and organized the scholar administration, being himself appointed principal director of it, with the title of "National Primary Instruction Inspector." University. The number of the students in the University of Montevideo during the year 1891 was 668, distributed thus: For law, 377 For social sciences, 176 For medicine, 85 For mathematics, 30 --- 668 Out of those 668 students, 631 were natives and 37 foreigners. The professors were 75: 14 for law and social sciences, 23 for medicine, 19 for mathematics and 19 for the preparatory studies; being 58 of them natives, 12 Spaniards, 3 Italians, 1 German and 1 Frenchman. Public Schools. In the year 1891 there were in the Republic 483 public schools; that is to say, 143 more than in the year 1886. The number of pupils was then for the whole Republic 43,676 (24,541 boys, 19,135 girls)--14,763 boys and girls in the capital, and 28,913 in the departments. All the schools cost $690,574, the education of each pupil representing a value of $13.27. The professors were 863--272 men and 591 women. Ninety-four schools were established in buildings belonging to the National Educational Board and representing a value of $448,541, and 11 of them in buildings belonging to the State, with a value of $45,942. Private Schools. In 1891 there existed in the Republic 375 private schools, with 21,945 pupils and 930 professors (381 men and 549 women). We obtain, therefore, the following result: No. Pupils. Public schools 483, with 43,676 Private " 375, " 21,945 --- ------ Schools: 868, 65,621 Normal Girl School. In this national school 114 girls received the title of professor for the first degree, and 29 for the second degree, from the year 1887 to the year 1891. In the same building is established the "_Museo Pedagogico_, or Pedagogic" Museum, one of the most important institutions of this kind in South America, under the direction of Mr. A. Gomez Ruano. Art and Professional School. This important establishment is actually under the care of the "National Charity and Public Beneficence Commission." It is established in a large building of its own, fit for 600 pupils. In 1891 there were 227 of them who received there, besides professional instruction, a very serious general instruction up to the third degree. In that establishment they study for carpenter, cabinet-maker, ironsmith, shoemaker, bookbinder, typographer, lithographer, mechanican, turner, silversmith, tinsmith, sculptor, painter, etc. There are also classes of telegraphing, drawing, gymnastics, singing, and music. The professors are 46. _Montevideo Atheneum._--A beautiful establishment is being built for this literary, scientific and artistic institution, the object of which is, delivering gratuitous lectures and publishing reviews, to foment in the Republic the general literary, scientific and artistic instruction. _Professional League._--Very good results are attained by this institution. In its halls the best professors give every night gratuitous lessons on painting, drawing, architecture and mathematics. Military School. This establishment is under the care of the Ministry of War and Navy, and works according to the latest improvements of military science. It counts with the best professors of French and German tactics, physics and natural philosophy, mathematics, geography and history, lineal drawing and photography, fencing and gymnastics. It possesses also all the necessary apparatus for physics, chemistry, physiology and mineralogy, and has a complete library with the newest and best scientific works. Religious Schools. In the Republic there are a great many schools and colleges under the care of religious communities, in which more than 4,200 children are taught. Educational Patriotic League. Under this name there exists in Montevideo an important establishment, the object of which is to improve and foment the primary, secondary, superior, artistical and professional instruction, not only in Montevideo but also throughout the whole country. It has also founded an important college. National Library. During the 185 days in which that important establishment remained opened, in the year 1891, the number of the readers have been 2,849. The number of the books asked for was 2,698 and 64 manuscripts. The library possesses over 21,000 volumes and 2,500 manuscripts, a great many engravings, photographs and maps. There are also the "Archives" where all records are kept, ancient writings and documents that have a relation with the National History. In nearly every department there is a public library. _International Book Exchange._--Uruguay is one of the nations that signed the Brussels treaty and in Montevideo there is a very useful office for International Book Exchange. National Museum. In the National Museum there are 24,226 objects, that is to say: Orchæology 814 Numismatics 4,201 History 140 Paleontology 107 Zoology 13,741 Botany 1,812 Mineralogy 3,253 Fine Arts, Industries 158 Newspapers. Great many newspapers and reviews are published in the Republic. They are agricultural, industrial, scientific, political, commercial, literary, religious, judicial, satirical or philosophical. In 1891 there were 74 papers and reviews issued in Montevideo and 31 in the Departments: total, 105. Out of them, 96 were written in Spanish, 4 in French, 1 in English, 3 in Italian and 1 in Portuguese. 26 were daily papers and the other monthly. 93 were morning papers and 12 evening papers. Societies. In the capital town of each department there are various societies, the object of which is charity and mutual help. Among the societies that exist in Montevideo, we must mention the societies called: Amigos de la Educacion, Ateneo de la Mujer, Agricola Italiana, Ateneo Militar, Confederacion Cientifica Literaria, Associacion Rural del Uruguay, Cosmo Italiano, Centro Catalan, Centro Gallego, Ciencias y Artes, Circulo Catolico de Obreros, Idem Napolitano, Clubs Aleman, Espanol, Frances, Ingles, Uruguay, Catolico, Colon, Dramatico Italiano, Societies Garibaldina, Hannemaniana Uruguaya, Homeopatica, La Lira, La Patrie, Laurak Bat, Liga Lombarda, Liga Industrial, Liga Masaniello, Nova Stella di Italia, La Romea, Tiro y Gymnasio Nacional, Union de Obreros, and also the French, Italian and Spanish commercial boards. The Uruguay Masonry is represented by a Great Orient on which depend many other lodges. There exist also many foreign lodges. Worship and Churches. Although the State Religion is the Roman Catholic Apostolic Religion, all the other religions are tolerated in the Republic owing to the liberality of the laws and to the independent spirit of the inhabitants. There exist Protestant Temples, not only in Montevideo but also in Salto, Swiss Colony, etc. The budget of the Republic assigns $19,712 for all the expenses of the Roman Catholic Church. The Republic has 43 churches and 36 chapels. The number of the priests is 161. Actually they are building 7 more churches. Public Revenue. The public revenue is derived from the custom duties, direct taxes on property, licenses to trade houses, stamped paper, stamps, import and export duties, port dues, municipal duties in the capital and in the departments, duties on indirect inheritance, trade patents, cattle marks, etc. Its amount has been during the three following periods: 1882, $ 9,095,409 1883, 10,928,639 1884-1885 (economical year), 12,373,688 ----------- Total, $32,397,736 1885-1886 (economical year), $11,719,692 1886-1887 " " 12,704,832 1887-1888 " " 13,668,096 ----------- Total, $38,092,620 1888-1889 (economical year), $15,690,293 1889-1890 " " 17,415,154 1890-1891 " " 14,925,363 ----------- Total, $48,030,810 The increase during the second period, if compared with the first one is: $5,694,884, and the increase of the third period compared with the second one is: $9,938,190. Custom Duties. They are the principal revenue of the Republic. From the year 1882 to the year 1891, the product of the custom duties, calculated by periods of five years each, has been: 1882, $5,501,360 1883, 6,968,321 1884, 7,749,438 1885, 7,731,264 1886, 6,803,761 ----------- Total, $34,754,144 1887, $ 8,671,243 1888, 8,845,776 1889, 10,786,602 1890, 9,848,735 1891, 8,648,509 ----------- Total $46,800,865 The increase of the second period, if compared with the first one, has been: $12,046,721. Licenses, Stamped Paper, Stamps. The licenses for trade houses, shops, etc., stamped paper and stamps have produced during the period 1887-1891: Stamped Licenses. Paper. Stamps. 1887, $ 783,179 $203,143 $336,688 1888, 888,543 253,610 379,063 1889, 1,180,118 283,009 452,167 1890, 1,219,943 301,058 485,850 1891, 1,001,405 220,882 414,160 ---------- ---------- ---------- Totals, $5,073,188 $1,261,702 $2,067,928 Annual} Middle} 1,014,637 252,340 413,585 Term. } Public Debt. On the 1st of January, 1891, the public debt was $ 89,848,850 Augmentation of the public debt during the year 86,182 ------------ $ 89,935,032 Redemption in 1891 2,145,059 ------------ Public debt on the 31st of December, 1891 $ 87,789,973 All the external public debt has been unified, including in it what was owed for the guarantee to railways, and also what remained due of the external debt service. The interest to be paid has been lessened and definitely established at the rate of 3-1/2 per cent., and the redemption by the outbidding system has been restored. The internal consolidated debt has also been unified with an interest of 4 per cent., and redeemable at the rate of 1 per per cent., accumulatively and by outbiddings. The external consolidated debt (3-1/2 per cent.) is $90,710,000. The internal unified debt (4 per cent.) is $7,500,000. The international debts, according to treaties with Italy, France and Spain, are $1,987,125. All these debts that will be issued when these lines are published will form, more or less, a total of $104,000,000, mortgage bank warranty debt included. Budget of Expenditure.[1] [1] Whilst the present monography is being printed the Deputy Chamber is studying a new project for the budget, the base of which is the project proposed for the financial year 1891-92, with a diminution of 10 per cent., which would allow the complete payment of the expenditure. The financial year begins on the 1st of July and concludes on the 30th of June of the next year. From the financial year of 1889-90 it has been the anterior budget which has gone on ruling, with a general deduction of 10 per cent., and with some augments and changes in other parts of the budget. A new budget for the financial year 1892-93 is going to be voted, which will consist of the following amounts: _I.--Administration:_ After a discount of 20 per cent. on the wages $ 5,840,306.41 _II.--House of Legislation_ 582,558.00 _III.--Passive Classes:_ That is to say, annual allowances paid to pensioners, civil and military, soldiers disabled by wounds or age, widows and sons of the 33 Orientals who assegurated the national independence in 1825, citizens who took part in the Independence wars, etc. After a discount between 4 and 15 per cent 1,324,503.32 _IV.--Public Debt and Guarantee to Railways_ 5,724,620.24 Various credits 144,394.52 So as to attend to this budget the Republic counts with the following incomes: Customs duties $ 8,577,622.84 Duties on property 1,750,549.54 Licenses 925,535.87 Stamped paper 337,141.31 Stamps 219,548.57 Taxes on manufactures 256,751.59 Postage 203,585.73 Public education 219,251,13 Ports 56,414.46 Duties on Inheritances 127,363.80 Duties on the signature of public acts, being excepted the value of the stamped paper 15,162.02 Police Duties 36,473.40 Revenue of the municipalities in the departments 100,320.92 Duties on amphibious fisheries 7,000.00 Cattle-marks 3,000.00 Duties of 1 per cent. on payments 78,049.51 Civil and military house for pawning 56,534.74 Eventual incomes, and revenue of the renting of lands belonging to the State 15,570.41 -------------- Total $12,985,875.84 NEW DUTIES. Augmentation of the duty on slaughterhouses 80,000.00 Augmentation of the duty on inheritances 140,000.00 Augmentation of the import duties 127,500.00 Augmentation of the municipal duties 100,000.00 A discount of 20 per cent. on the wages of the clerks of the Montevideo municipality 65,350.00 ---------- 512,850.00 RECAPITULATION. Resources $12,985,875.84 New resources 512,850.00 ------------- $13,498,725.84 Weights and Measures. The law of the year 1862 established the metrical system throughout the Republic. Metres. 1 lineal league, = 5,154 1 lineal cuadra, = 85-900 c. 1 lineal vara, = 859 c. 1 lineal foot, = 286 c. Litres. 1 pipa, or 192 frascos, = 455-424 1 frasco, = 2-370 1 English gallon, = 3-805 Kilogs. 1 fanega, maize, ears, = 274-544 1 " " grains, = 137-272 1 ton, = 918-800 1 quintal (100 lbs.), = 45-940 1 arrobe (25 lbs.), = 11-485 1 livre (pound, libra), = 0-459 1 Pesada (dry hides, 40 lbs.), = 18-376 1 " (salted hides, 75 lbs.), = 34-455 Official Value of Gold Coins. Argentine Republic, 1 argentino ($5 gold), $ 4 66 Austria, 8 florins, 3 73 Belgium, (the same value as French coins). { 20,000 reis, 10 56 Brazil, { 10,000 reis, 5 28 { 5,000 reis, 2 64 { 1 condor ($10), 8 82 Chile, { 1/2 " ($5), 4 41 Columbia, $20, 18 66 { £1 (20 sh.), 4 70 England, { £1/2 (10 sh.), 2 35 { 100 frcs., 18 66 { 50 frcs., 9 33 France, { 20 frcs., and also the { Italian, Belgian and { Swiss 20 frcs. or lire { coins, 3 73 Germany, { 20 marks, 4 60 { 10 " 2 30 Peru, 20 soles (suns), 18 66 Portugal, 1 crown (10,000 reis), 10 45 { 1 doblon (100 reals Spain, { and 10 escudos), 4 82 { 25 pesetas, 4 66 Switzerland, Like French coins. { 1 double eagle, $20, 19 32 United States, { 1 eagle, $10, 9 66 { 1/2 eagle, $5, 4 83 Venezuela, 20 pesos, 18 66 The standard currency in Uruguay is gold. The nominal unit, $1, 1 peso ($1), has a weight of 1 gramme, 697 mgrm. of gold and 917 mills standard. The official value of the national silver coin, 1 peso, has a weight of 25 grammes and 900 milles standard. The other minor silver coins are: $0.50, $0.20, $0.10. In all accounts, the limited quantity that can be paid in silver, is determined by the law, according to the total amount. Police. The police under the care of the Political and Police Chief (jefe politico y de policia) of each department and depending on the Executive power employs a great many persons, the wages of which are relatively very small. However, the police service goes on with a perfect regularity in the capital and in the departments. The whole police administration costs half a million to the state. Army. The organization of the Uruguayan army is perfect, as well in regard to the discipline as in regard to the military tactics. They are dressed as well as the best European soldier. They use the Remington gun; but they are going to be provided with the reformed Mauser gun. The artillery regiments have 67 Krup, Armstrong and Nordenfeld cannons. The army is composed of 23 chiefs, 202 officers and 3,425 soldiers, forming 10 battalions, that is to say: 4 Hunters battalions, 1 artillery battalion, 4 cavalry battalions and 1 light artillery battalion, besides which must be counted the general Artigas fort garrison and the "Prague Nacional" or Arsenal detachment. One Hunters Battalion and the four Cavalry ones serve as garrisons in the departments. The other battalions remain in the capital. Navy. The national fleet is employed for coast and fort guarding. It is composed of three large gun-boats and 6 small steamers. They all use Remington guns; as for the cannons, they belong to various systems. Montevideo, the Capital of the Republic. The great maritime town of Montevideo, the capital of the Republic and the so-called department, was founded in the year 1726 by the Spanish marshal Don Bruno Mauricio de Zabala, with some Spanish families, who came from Buenos Ayres and Canary Islands. The town is built over a rocky peninsula, in the middle of the salt waters of the River Plate, with a height of over 100 feet above the sea. It is actually divided into three large sections called the Antigua (old) town, the Nueva (new) town and the Novisima (newest) town. All around the town will run the great boulevard General Artigas. The whole town consists in 1,600 _manzanas_ or square cuadras, more than 600 of which are already edificed; it must be added that every day new buildings are begun everywhere about the town. In all directions new streets are opened and new houses are built and new suburbs created, making Montevideo larger and larger every day. The streets are all straight and nearly all of them well paved with granite stone. In the old town they are 10 and 11 metres wide and in the new town 17 metres, with broad pavements and trees planted on both sides. The principal roads that lead to the town are broad, part of them covered with a bed of macadam and the others with a bed of stones. There are six public squares, called, Zabala, Constitucion, Independencia, Libertad, Treinta y Tres, General Flores, and the smaller ones called Solis and Muelle Viejo. In all these squares there are trees and banks; they are lit with electric light and the paths that surround them are made of the finest granite. Most of them are one manzana large, that is to say 7,378 square metres. The square called Independencia is a parallelogram 221 metres long by 232 metres broad with an area of 29,260 metres. In it is situated the government palace. The boulevard called 18 de Julio is the continuation of the Independencia Square, from W. to E., being 26 metres broad. The common sewer has an extension of 93,000 metres and more than 7,500 are directly its conduits. The drinkable water comes from Santa Lucia (61 kilometres from Montevideo); the various conduits have an extension of over 180 kilometres. All the streets and even the suburbs have the electric light; some others have still the gas light. Three gasometres, two of them 100,000 cubic feet and one 70,000, are employed for the preparation of the gas. The gas pipes represent an extension of 128 kilometres. The power of each light is equivalent to that of 18 candles. There are two important establishments for the preparation of the electric light, which is now used by a great many trade houses and shops. The town is composed of over 19,000 houses--20 per cent. of them being houses with two stories; a good many of them have three and four stories. The architecture of the houses is most elegant, especially of those which were built during the last fifteen years. Among the public buildings remarkable for their importance are: the Cathedral, the Charity Hospital, the Insane Asylum, the Central Cemetery, Solis Theater, Normal School, Government Palace, Parliament House, Custom House, Professional School, National Bank, San Felipe and Cibils Theatres, London Bank, South America British Bank, Uruguay Club, Gas Works, Prison, San Francisco, Capuchin Friars, Concepcion and Carmen Churches, Orphan Asylum, Seminary, English Church, Music Academy, Oriental Hotel, Gounouilhou Baths, etc. The suburbs and environs are most picturesque, with a great quantity of the most elegant country houses, built all along the avenues called Agraciada, Paso del Molino, Duranas, Miguelete, Sierra, Goes, Suarez, Larranaga and many others. Being the capital of the Republic, Montevideo is the residence of the three high powers of the state, of the aggregate of foreign ministers and consuls and also of the bishop. It is the centre of all the most important business of the Republic and reputed one of the best markets in the River Plate. In Montevideo reside all the principal Societies and Associations in the Republic. The aspect of the town is agreeable and quite that of a European city, and its population is quite a cosmopolitan one. The census of the year 1891, Dec. 31, gave a result of 234,688 souls for the department of Montevideo, 190,000 more or less belonging exclusively to Montevideo, and 53 per cent. of them being natives and 47 per cent. foreigners. All the most important trade-houses are in Montevideo, the largest and finest hotels; there are three theatres, fifteen churches and nine chapels, three cemeteries and three markets, etc. During the bathing season a great many foreigners come to Montevideo, owing to its fine shore and beautiful bathing establishments, like the one called Los Pocitos, where exists a beautiful and elegant building for the foreigners, and those called Romirez and Capurro. * * * * * The following table gives an idea of the immense yearly consumption of meat in Montevideo: ======+=============+============+=============+ | OXEN, COWS. | SHEEP. | TOTAL. | YEARS.| ---- | ---- | ---- | | Kilogs. | Kilogs. | Kilogs. | ------+-------------+------------+------------ + 1874 | 15,918,875 | 1,373,721 | 17,292,596 | 1875 | 15,379,042 | 1,166,721 | 16,545,763 | 1876 | 14,801,696 | 1,088,199 | 15,889,895 | 1877 | 14,578,711 | 1,009,309 | 15,588,020 | 1878 | 15,208,543 | 1,378,114 | 16,586,657 | 1879 | 13,468,455 | 1,394,751 | 14,863,206 | 1880 | 14,019,236 | 1,420,641 | 15,439,377 | 1881 | 14,228,375 | 1,472,598 | 15,700,973 | 1882 | 15,297,093 | 1,408,497 | 16,705,590 | 1883 | 16,100,322 | 1,448,126 | 17,548,448 | 1884 | 16,380,623 | 1,450,679 | 17,831,302 | 1885 | 19,293,435 | 1,426,345 | 20,719,780 | 1886 | 17,911,894 | 1,738,305 | 19,650,199 | 1887 | 18,027,814 | 1,272,314 | 19,300,128 | 1888 | 20,499,325 | 1,555,743 | 22,055,068 | 1889 | 24,681,622 | 1,733,487 | 26,415,109 | 1890 | 24,724,287 | 1,021,568 | 25,745,855 | 1891 | 25,087,020 | 847,435 | 25,934,455 | ======+=============+============+=============+ Public Beneficence. There are in the Republic many beneficent establishments, hospitals, charity and mutual assistance societies, that do important services to all who need them without any distinction of nationality. In the capital there are, under the care of the State and of the National Charity and Beneficence Commission, the Charity Hospital, the Alms House, the Insane Asylum, the Orphan Hospital, the Maternal Asylum and also a small-pox Lazaretto. There exist also, under the care of private beneficence, the English Hospital, the Italian Hospital, and soon there will be a Spanish Hospital. For a long time there have been many Ladies' Beneficence Societies, and many Mutual Assistance Societies: La Junta Central Espanola de Beneficencia, La Fraternidad, Societa Italiana, Circolo Napolitano, Societe Francaise de Seccours Mutuels. The number of the members of all the societies is more or less 25,000. _Charity Hospital._--In the beginning of the year 1891, there were 489 ill people in the hospital; from January to December of the same year, there entered 5,361; therefore, during the year 1891, 5,850 persons were attended at the hospital. Out of them 5,022 were cured, 4 ran away and 451 died, remaining 373 persons for the year 1892. Out of the 5,361 persons who went to the hospital, 1,529 only were natives and 3,832 foreigners. _Insane Asylum._--In 1891 the number of people attended to was 987. During the year, 58 went out and there remained for 1892, 768 persons. The 258 people who came to the hospital in 1891, were 107 natives and 151 foreigners. _Alms House._--Out of 473 beggars living in the asylum, the greatest number, in the year 1891, were foreigners. _Orphan and Foundling Asylum._--In the beginning of 1891 there were 397 children. During the year there entered 574; thence there were 971 children in the hospital during the year 1891. Out of them 56 foundlings were claimed for by their parents and 22 orphans by their relations; 63 orphans were adopted by various families. _Maternal Asylum._--The three Maternal Asylums received during the year 1891, 1,937 children of both sexes, who were attended to by the Charity Sisters. * * * * * In all the departments there exist Beneficence and Mutual Assistance Societies that do great services to the poor people. Powers of the State. EXECUTIVE POWER. _President of the Republic_--Doctor Don Julio Herrera y Obes. _Government Minister_--Don Francisco Bauza. _Minister of Commerce, Industry, Railways and Public Education_--Engineer Don Juan Alberto Capurro. _Minister of Finance_--(Interium) Don Eugenio Madalena. _Minister of War and Navy_--General Don Luis E. Perez. _Minister of Foreign Affairs and Worship_--Doctor Don Manuel Herrero y Espinosa. LEGISLATIVE POWER. _President of the Senator Chamber and General Assembly_--Don Tomas Gomensoro. _President of the Deputy Chamber_--Doctor Don Miguel Herrera y Obes. JUDICIAL POWER--TRIBUNALS OF APPEAL. _President of the Tribunals_--(1st) Doctor Don J. M. Vilaza. (2d) Doctor Don Trofilo Diaz. Ministers of the Republic Abroad. In France --_Minister_, Mr. Alejandro Herosa. In Italy --_Minister_, Dr. Don Jose Vazquez Sagastune. _Secretary_, Eurique Rovira. In Germany --_Minister_, Dr. Don Federico Susviela Guarch. _Secretary_, Dr. Luis Garabelli. In Great Britain --_Minister_, Dr. Don Alberto Nin. _Secretary_, Alfonso S. Zumaran. In Spain and Portugal --_Minister_, Dr. Don Juan Zorrilla de San Martin. _Secretary_, Eduardo Herrera y Obes. In Chile --_Minister_, Mr. Jose C. Arrieta. In Argentine Republic --_Minister_, Dr. Don Ernesto Frias. _Secretary_, Dr. Don Pablo Perez Gomar. In Brazil --_Minister_, Mr. Blas Vidal. _Secretary_, Julian Alvarez Conde. In Paraguay --_Minister_, Mr. Ricardo Garcia. _Secretary_, Dionisio Ramos Montero. Consuls of the Republic. _Consul_ _Vice_ _Countries._ _General._ _Consuls._ _Consuls._ Argentine Republic, 1 9 14 Brazil, 1 14 21 Paraguay, 1 1 6 Chile, 1 2 .. United States of America, 1 6 14 Switzerland, 1 3 1 Great Britain, 1 16 32 Germany, 1 7 .. Belgium, 1 4 4 Italy, 1 17 17 Portugal, 1 4 15 France, 1 13 7 Spain, 1 26 24 Holland, 1 2 .. Sweden, Norway, 1 2 .. Bolivy, 1 1 .. Austria, 1 .. .. Venezuela, .. 1 .. Peru, 1 1 .. Russia, .. .. .. Greece, .. 1 .. Haite, .. 1 .. Denmark, .. 1 .. Turkey, .. 1 .. Foreign Ministers in the Republic. Italian --_Minister_, Commander Jose Anfora, Duke of Lucignano. 1st _Secretary_, E. Ferrara Dentrice. 2d _Secretary_, Emanuel Berti. Portuguese --_Minister_, Viscount de Favia. German --_Minister_, Dr. R. Kranel. _Secretary_, G. von Pilgrim Ballazzi. Brazilian --_Minister_, Don Pedro C. Alfonso Carvalto. Argentine --_Minister_, Don Enrique B. Moreno. _Secretary_, Solano Torres Cabura. British --_Minister_, Hon. Ernest M. Latou. Austrian --_Minister_, Baron of Salzberg. Spain --_Minister_, Don Jose de la Rica y Calvo. _Secretary_, A. Alava y Amoros. Belgian --_Minister_, Mr. Ernest Van Bruyssel. French --_Minister_, Mr. A. Bourcier Saint Chaffray. _Secretary_, J. A. Larret. Saint Marinan --_Minister_, Don Francisco Brin. _Secretary_, Arthero Brin. Equatorian --_Minister_, Don. Francisco A. Gomez. Swiss --_Minister_, Coronel E. Rode. _Secretary_, J. Choffar. _Chancellor_, F. Chury. Paraguayan --_Minister_, Don Jose Segundo Decond. Foreign Consuls in the Republic. _Consul_ _Vice_ _Consular_ _Countries._ _General._ _Consuls._ _Consuls._ _Agents._ Argentine Republic, 1 12 5 .. Brazil, 2 .. 6 3 Chile, 1 .. 1 .. Bolivy, .. 1 .. .. Peru, .. 1 .. .. Equator, 1 .. .. .. Nicaragua, .. 1 .. .. Salvador, .. 1 .. .. United States of America, .. 2 1 1 France, 1 .. .. 8 Italy, 1 .. 1 8 Portugal, .. 1 2 .. Great Britain, 1 .. 6 .. Spain, 1 .. 20 .. Belgium, 1 1 1 .. Sweden, .. 1 1 .. Denmark, .. 1 1 .. Hawai, .. 1 1 .. Switzerland, .. 1 2 .. Holland, 1 1 .. .. Paraguay, 1 .. .. .. Germany, .. 1 .. .. Columbia, .. 1 .. .. Russia, .. 1 .. .. Austria, .. 1 .. .. Saint Marinan, .. 1 .. .. Mexico, .. 1 .. .. Venezuela, .. 1 .. .. Custom-House. The Montevideo custom-house produces the principal revenue the public treasury counts with. The other custom-houses all over the littoral and in the Brazilian frontiers are comparatively a great deal less important. Imports have to pay general duties _ad valorem_, which vary between 8 and 51 per cent., and also specific duties, such as for wine, brandy, tobacco, rice, sugar, petroleum, olive oil, beer, matches, etc. There is a law regulating these specific duties. According to the law of the year 1888 all national products were free from duty; but in the year 1890 a new law restored the specific duty. Corn, wheat, flour and lucerne pay also the specific duty. Since the year 1888 many modifications have been introduced in the custom duties laws, in order to increase the revenue and also to protect national industry. Besides the duties _ad valorem_ there is also an additional duty of 5 per cent. Laws. IMPORTS. Article 1. All goods imported from foreign countries for consumption will pay a duty of 31 per cent. of its value, excepting the following goods, which will pay: 1, 51 per cent.--arms, powder, ammunitions, snuff, tobacco, perfumery, cheese, butter, ham, preserved meats and all eatables preserved in tin boxes or in bottles, rockets and mine, quarry and gun powder. 2, 48 per cent.--brushes in general, painting brushes, shoes of all sorts, ready-made linen, hats, furniture, coaches, harnesses, medicaments, formularies and business papers either lithographed or printed. 3, 44 per cent.--cakes and pastry of all sorts, chocolate, candles in general, vermicelli, jams, soles and tanned skins. 4, 20 per cent.--lumber in general, iron, either plate, crow, joist or ingot, steel plate, copper and brass ingots, tin plate, lead bar or plate, zinc plate or ingot, fresh fruits, roof tiles, slates, Roman cement, vegetal coal, quicksilver, tin, talc, plaster, tar, pitch, sack-cloth, forage in general and empty match-boxes. 5, 12 per cent.--potatoes of all sorts, even those imported for sowing. 6, 8 per cent.--printed and bound books, typography or lithography machines or presses, printing types, white paper for newspapers, lithography paper, 87 centim. long by 54 broad, printing ink, flower and vegetable seeds, sulphuric, nitric and chlorhydric acids, gums, phosphorus, gold jewels and gold and silver watches. 7, 6 per cent.--printed books without binding, maps and geographical globes and all things necessary for natural, physical and mathematical studies, mineral coal in general, sea or rock salt and precious stones. Art. 2. All things necessary to divine worship, the introduction of which may be asked by the ecclesiastical authority, shall be free from all duty. 2. All things introduced for the personal use of the foreign ministers and consuls residing in the Republic, provided there be reciprocation for our ministers and consuls. 3. All the machinery for steamers that are going to be built in the country, stamped gold and silver, gold and silver paste or powder, sheep-curing specific, live plants except vines, live-stock and blooded animals, luggage, linen, clothes and instruments and tools for personal use, all special materials to be employed in building ships in the country, ploughs, machinery for ships and industries, common and double sodium, hop, saffron, agricultural machines, hemp, indian cane, rabbit hair, otter and hare skin for hat-making, sewing machines, glass or clay bottles, potash and chlorate of potash for industry, capsules for bottles, dynamite, wires for fencing, lucerne seeds, and sulphur flower. Art 3. The introducing of all coloring substances employed in the falsification of wine is forbidden, as well as all substances the Public Health Board will consider as hurtful, etc., etc. Law on Specific Duties. Article 1. The goods hereafter mentioned, imported from foreign nations since the 1st of January, 1889, shall pay the following specific duties: Kilogs. Red Indian dwarf pepper $ 09 " " in powder 14 Almonds 06 " without the shell 11 Canary seed 05 Filberts 04 Prussian blue, for laundresses 01 Car riggings and cordages, indian cane 06 Cocoa 12 " in powder 16 Coffee, grain 08 " powder 24 Chicory 06 Chocolate 30 Indian rockets 40 Preserved vegetables 16 Preserved eatables of all sorts 25 Kerseymere 28 Baize 31 Dry fruits, dainties 40 Fruit syrups 25 Pickled fruits 10 "Farina" 01 Vermicelli, in general 08 Flannel and wool cloth 75 Wool and cotton flannel 62 Cotton flannel 28 Brandy fruits 10 Cotton sail-cloth 25 Iron, bars, plates, joists and rails 01 Galvanized iron, _idem_ 15 Cakes, pastry 16 Lard 14 Soap, in general 08 Hams 24 Cotton white cloth 15-1/2 Butter 35 Nuts 03 Preserved peaches 05 Oysters, lobsters 16 Brown waste paper 05 Raisins. 05 Pickled fish 07 " in bottles or tin boxes. 10 Pickled dry fish, in casks 05 " in bottles or tin boxes 08 Red cayenne pepper 08 Pepper 10 " in powder 16 Cheeses 25 Sausage 40 Tea 25 Candles 14 Vinegar 03 Yerba mate, from Paraguay 5-1/2 Glazed cotton 28 Dry vegetables, beans, French beans, lentils, etc. 05 Art. 2. The specific duties on common wines, in casks, will be 6 per cent. the litre. Etc., etc. New Laws on Specific Duties. ARTICLE 1. Per kilog. Havana cigars. $6.00 Cigars of all sorts 3.00 Cigarettes 6.00 Tobacco, black or chewing tobacco 50 Tobacco, in general 1.00 Bitters, brandy, whiskey, etc., that are not over 20 degrees, per litre 37 The same, in bottles, from 51 centilitres to 1 litre, per bottle 37 Spirits, in casks, per litre 37 The same, in bottles, from 51 centilitres to 1 litre, per bottle 37 The same, in larger or smaller bottles, in proportion with the capacity Vermouth, fernet, in casks, per litre 37 The same, in bottles, etc., per bottle 37 The same, in larger or smaller bottles, etc., etc. Beer, in casks, per litre 16 The same, in bottles, etc., per bottle 16 The same, in larger or smaller bottles, etc. Per kilog. Matches $1.30 Preserved vegetables, fish and meat 30 Refined sugar 6 Sugar, without refining 5 Cheese, in general 38 ARTICLE 2. Per litre. Artificial wines, besides the duty already existing on common wines in casks 3 According to another law, January 19, 1891, the following goods pay specific duties: Per 100 kilogs. Wheat $ .80 Corn 1.35 Corn flour 2.70 Lucerne, forage 1.00 According to the same law (Article 3) the sulphate of copper, destined to agriculture, is free from all duty. * * * * * The law of August 27, 1891, says: Article 1. The specific duty charged on all foreign brandy, when its alcoholic strength is not over 20 degrees, shall be $13.60 per litre. If the alcoholic strength be over 20 degrees, each additional degree shall pay 68.1000. The duty on the brandy manufactured in the country is raised to $13.20 per litre, whatever may be its strength. Article 2. The duty on vermouth, brandy, bitters, artificial wines (3 and 12 cents per litre) is abolished. Bitters, whiskey, vermouth (not being over 20 degree), shall be 31 cents per litre. The same, in bottles from 51 centilitres to 1 litre, also 31 cents per litre. The same, in larger or smaller bottles, in proportion. Spirits, in casks, per litre 31 The same, in bottles, per bottle 31 The same, in larger or smaller bottles, in proportion. Vermouth, fernet, in casks, per litre 31 The same, in bottles, etc., per bottle 31 The same, in larger or smaller bottles, in proportion. * * * * * Article 3. The Executive Power may oblige the brandy manufacturers to employ the Tiermen-Halske counters, or others. Article 4. Are free from duty the liquors the grocers make themselves with peaches or cherries. Exports. The law of January 30, 1888, says: Article 1. All natural products, fruits and goods manufactured in the country are free of all export duty. Article 2. Are excepted undressed stone, sand and live-stock. * * * * * Another law of October 4, 1890, has created the following export duties: ARTICLE 2. Per 100 kilogs. Wool, in general $1.80 Woolly skins 80 Hair 1.79 Fat, tallow, oils 50 Corned meat 40 Preserved meat and tongues 1.00 Clutches 25 Ashes and bones, per 1,000 kilogs 60 Artificial manure, per 1,000 kilogs. 60 Salted hides (oxen and cows), each 25 Dry " " " " 12 Salted hides (horses), each 12 Dry " " " 6 " " (calves), per 100 kilogs. 1.00 Hides (seals), each 16 Horns, per 1,000 2.50 Extract of meat, per kilog. 10 Law on Immigration. Among other articles the law on immigration of June 12th, 1890, says: Article 2. The consular agents must give all the information, notices and references, the immigrants, agents of navigation companies, or other persons whoever, may ask them about legislation, statistics and general situation of the Republic. Art. 3. The agents shall not receive, on pain of being destituted, any particular retribution for the services the present law imposes on them, or those that any future law may impose on them. Art. 7. Is considered as an immigrant every honest workman who comes to the Republic on board any steamer or vessel, with a second or third class passage, with the intention of fixing here his residence. Art. 8. Every immigrant on his landing will enjoy the following favors: 1. Introduction, free from all duty, of his luggage, linen, furniture, tools or agricultural machines. 2. Disembarking of all his luggage without anything to pay. 3. All the necessary information is gratuitously taken for him, so as to provide him with the kind of work he has chosen. The immigrants with their passage paid by the Government have a right: 1. To be lodged and fed during the first eight days. 2. To be taken over gratuitously with his luggage to the place in the national territory he has chosen for his residence. These last benefits may also be granted by the executive power to the spontaneous immigration. Art. 10. The immigrant will prove his good conduct and aptness to work by a certificate gratuitously given to him by the consular agent of the port from which he sailed, and duly legalized by the consular authority of his own country. Art. 24. All ships coming here with immigrants will enjoy all the possible exemptions of taxes. Art. 25. As a compensation to the anterior article, the immigrants bound for the Oriental Republic will enjoy on board the ships the very same treatment, as regards the food, lodging and comfort, as the immigrants going to other ports in the River Plate. Art 33. A special inspector shall look carefully over the gratuitous disembarking of the immigrants and their luggage. Art. 34. He will accompany them until they be put into possession of their luggage, taking good care lest any one should ask them any retribution in the "Immigrants' Hotel." Art. 36. In case of serious illness, contracted during the journey, their lodging, maintenance and medical assistance shall be at the expenses of the State, even if the eight days granted by the law have passed. Articles 37, 38 and 40, inclusive, stipulate that the Immigration and Agricultural Board shall attend to all the necessities of the national industry by placing all the immigrants who will submit themselves to this law: That it will note down in a special register the names of all workmen, ploughmen, etc., in search of work; that it will by all means try to place them advantageously; that it will mediate, if it be required, in all contracts, and take good care lest the patrons should not observe them faithfully. In no case at all shall the Immigration and Agricultural Board receive any commission or retribution whatever. In case it be necessary to send the immigrant over to some other department the travel would be at the expense of the State. Historical Sketch. (A COMPILATION.) Four years after the River Plate was discovered by Juan Diaz de Solis, Hernando de Magallanes, following the same route as the former, went up the River Plate and discovered part of the rivers Uruguay, Guazu and Parana. But as he could not find the channel, which, he thought, ought to lead him to the East Indies, he soon came back and sailed southward, discovering afterwards the strait. In the year 1527, Sebastian Gaboto who had travelled over the Rivers Uruguay, Parana and Paraguay, built the first fort on the coast of the River San Salvador at a short distance from the Uruguay, so as to defend himself against the Indians who peopled the territory that now belongs to the Republic. Then began the first essays of colonization made by the Spaniards, notwithstanding all kinds of difficulties and fights against the Indians who, with great constance and heroism, went on defending the land that was theirs. In the year 1550, Irala sends from the Asuncion a few people over to the Oriental territory; and the first settlement is there founded, on the banks of the river San Juan, with the name of San Juan Bautista. Two years after the settlers gave up the place and went away, on account of the increasing attacks of the Indians which they could not resist. In the year 1574, Zarate had a new fort built in the very same place where Gaboto in 1527 had already built one and gave it the name of San Salvador. Two years later, the settlers had to go away for want of resources and on account of the continuous wars with the natives. In the year 1624, Fray Bernardo de Guzman began founding a new settlement, the most ancient one in the Republic, called Santo Domingo de Soriano, two leagues distant from the mouth of the Black River, Rio Negro. In 1680 was founded Colonia del Sacramento, by Don Manuel de Lobo, the governor of Janeiro. In 1724 the field-marshal, Don Bruno Mauricio de Zabala, founded the town of Montevideo. From that time many more towns and important settlements went on being founded. In 1762, Villa de San Carlos, in 1763, the town of Maldonado, in 1778, Villa de San Juan Bautista, now Santa Lucia, 1782, the settlement of Paysandu, in 1783, Minas and in 1793, Rocha. Early in the nineteenth century, the question of dominion was finally settled in favor of the Spaniards; and in the mean time, in spite of wars, the Banda Oriental was being peopled and civilization continued to advance. In the central districts, as well as on the coasts of the Atlantic and of the large rivers, the Spaniards had founded many small towns and ports, the most important of which was Montevideo. In the early days of the Spanish settlements in these regions, the whole of the River Plate district was included in the Viceroyalty of Peru. Subsequently a separate viceroyalty was created in Buenos Ayres and the Banda Oriental, which had been subject to the Colonial Government of Paraguay, was transferred to that of Buenos Ayres. At the beginning of the century, Montevideo was ruled by a military and political governor appointed by the Crown of Spain. Since the year 1730, Montevideo had a _Cabildo_ or Municipality. Soriano, Maldonado, Colonia and other places were subject to military commands and also had their own cabildos. The population of Montevideo was then about 15,000 inhabitants; the same number of people existed in the interior of the province. At the beginning of the century Montevideo already possessed a gratuitous school, paid by private persons, and also primary schools, under the care of friars of the Order of St. Francis; it had a comedy hall, had finished giving names to all its streets, and established the light service in the principal ones; and its cabildo or municipality, listening to the proposals made by the Governor Bustamante y Guerra, was already thinking of providing the town with a good hygiene service, with pavement, with causeways, with a regular drinkable water service, with a public washing place, with a complete service for the cleaning and conservation of the port, with the building of bridges over the Miguelete, Paso del Molino and Arroyo Seco, designing for the public municipal service the amount of $47,600, which would be taken from the product of the cattle outbidding sales for the slaughterhouses during the years 5th and 6th. Undoubtedly the administration of the Governors Bustamante y Guerra and Ruiz Huidobio was an era of prosperity for Montevideo (1797 to 1807). Uruguay had lived under despotism until those governors came and raised it to the very rank it deserved by its topographical position and natural riches. Such was the situation of Montevideo when took place the English invasions in the River Plate. On the 27th of June, 1806, Buenos Ayres fell to the power of the expedition commanded by Berresford and Popham. Montevideo, with all its war elements and all the popular elements enrolled in the very moment, succeeded in reconquering Buenos Ayres. The first English invasion was repelled. A new attack of the English gave as a result the taking of Montevideo after a furious fight on the 3d of February, 1807. Seven months later the English had to withdraw from Montevideo after the defeat suffered in Buenos Ayres by General Whitelock, who, on capitulating, had to surrender Montevideo and all other places occupied by his troops. On the 25th of May, 1810, the people in Buenos Ayres gave the first decisive step for the conquering of the independence of this continent. The Governor and Municipality of Montevideo did not join then the movement. The Junta or Revolutionary Committee, established in Buenos Ayres, sends regular troops to the Banda Oriental. General Don Jose G. Artigas commands the Oriental troops. After various encounters and fights that were all favorable to the Revolution, the Spanish power was forever destroyed in the River Plate, on the 23d of June, 1814. General Artigas does all he can that the Banda Oriental be one of the confederate provinces among the united ones of the River Plate. There occur some difficulties and the general government is obliged to surrender Montevideo, and the troops retire on the 23d of February, 1815. The Portuguese, who greedily sought after possessing this territory, invades it then with a powerful army. Fortune is first favorable to them; and, on the 20th of January, 1817, General Lecor takes possession of Montevideo and other places, giving to the Banda Oriental the name of Cisplatine State (Estado Cisplatino). The Brazilians part from the crown of Portugal, and after they have declared themselves independent the new Cisplatine state becomes a dependence of the Brazilian empire, the troops of which enter into Montevideo on the 28th of February, 1824, and take possession of the whole land. Some emigrated Orientals, residing in Buenos Ayres, do all that they possibly can so as to conquer again their independence and native country. They join the few elements they can dispose of and on the 19th of April, 1825, thirty-three fearless patriots, under the command of the Oriental General D. Juan Antonio Lavalleja, tread the shore of the Agraciada, near Nueva Palmira, and with the device, "_Libertad o Muerte_" (Liberty or Death), written on the national flag, begin the heroic campaign--the liberating expedition to which the whole country joins. The first encounters were favorable to the Oriental arms. General Lavalleja convokes the people for the electing of Deputies, and in the Villa de la Florida establishes itself the Deputy Chamber, which, on the 25th of August, 1825, sanctions--giving the strength of a law--the Declaration of the Independence of the River Plate Oriental Province. The Brazilians complain to the Argentine government on account of the decided protection it had given to the Oriental Revolution, and a war ensues between both nations that obliges the Argentines to send an auxiliary army to this territory. The struggle went on, being a series of victories for the united republican arms: the Imperial power was defeated, the last encounter, that put that memorable campaign to an end, taking place in Bacacay. Negotiations of peace were undertaken, and on the 27th of August, 1828, the preliminary treaty was signed, by which the Oriental Province of Uruguay was declared sovereign and independent. A provisional government was appointed and, after the country had recovered peace and quiet, a constituent and legislative Assembly was elected which compiled and published the Constitution that nowadays is still ruling, and that was solemnly sworn amid the greatest popular joy on the 18th of July, 1830. It was at this period that a man rose into note in the Argentine Confederation who was destined to exercise an overshadowing and pernicious influence on both sides of the River Plate. In 1829 Don Juan Manuel Rosas became Governor of Buenos Ayres. Possessed of great capacity he maintained tranquility in his native province and extended his sway over the neighboring states of the Confederation; but his system of government was despotic, and his rule was for some years one of sanguinary terror. His intervention in the intestine quarrels of the Republic of Uruguay, and his attempt to close the River Parana to foreign vessels, led him into hostilities with England and France, whose joint naval squadrons protected Montevideo from his attacks by sea, whilst his troops and their Oriental allies, under General Oribe, besieged the city. The siege of Montevideo by the _Blancos_ or _Whites_, as the Oriental partizans of Oribe were called, continued for nine years, and for that period, from 1843 to 1851, the history of the Republic of Uruguay is the history of the defence of Montevideo. The defence concluded with a treaty of peace on the 8th of October, 1851, in which it was declared that there were neither conquered or conquerors. On the 3rd of February in the following year, Rosas himself was completely overthrown at Monte Caseros, near Buenos Ayres, by the combined forces of Brazil, Oriental Republic and the Argentines in revolt under the governor of Entre Rios General Justo Jose Urquiza, the commander-in-chief of the allied army. From that date, when the normal intercourse of Montevideo with Buenos Ayres and the riverain ports of the Uruguay and Parana, as well as with the interior of the Republic itself and with Brazil, was resumed, the Oriental Republic may be said to have recommenced its national existence. Whilst her material progress has continued with little intermission, her political history during the last thirty or forty years has been again chequered by many internal troubles and domestic events, one too recent, the others too insignificant to be included in the present historical sketch. But the old parties, _Blanco_ and _Colorado_, have long since been transformed; and at the same time that new rivalries and new parties were coming out, the hatreds and exclusive passions of the ancient times have all disappeared; the constant communication with Europe, and the general influence of a newer education and of different ideas is permeating all classes in the capital, and gradually extending to the rural districts, where foreigners are introducing the habits and industrial methods of European countries: all which, owing to the national culture and civilization permits to count for the future with a complete stability in the institutions and government of the country, this stability being the strongest wish of all the parties, whilst it is also the best and most solid warranty of the progress and increase of the Oriental Republic of Uruguay. [Illustration: CARTA GEOGRAFICA] * * * * * Transcriber's note: "++ PLEASE NOTE MAP." The ++indicates the hand symbol with finger pointing right. Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals. Variations in spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been retained except in obvious cases of typographical error. The cover for the eBook version of this book was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain. Page 16: "1891 104,945 8,74 291". There is a missing digit - the transcriber has added "5" to make 8,745. Page 25: The transcriber has supplied the closing round bracket in the following: The plantations are 80 hectares, planted with vines (the plants are 2 and 3 years old); three millions of vine-shoot ... Page 25: The ^ followed by a number indicates a superscripted number. Example: 1^m 80 high, by 0^m thick. 
36534	----	BLANCO Y COLORADO BLANCO Y COLORADO OLD DAYS AMONG THE GA[~U]CHOS OF URUGUAY BY WILLIAM C. TETLEY F. R. HOCKLIFFE 86 & 88, HIGH STREET, BEDFORD LONDON: SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, HAMILTON, KENT & CO., LTD. 1921 PREFACE The following pages contain the writer's personal experiences in the "Republic of Uruguay" during a revolution in what are now known as the "Old Days." If they enable the reader to understand what life in that country really meant at that time, the object of this book will then be attained. W. C. T. The Close, Wavendon, Woburn Sands, Bucks. July, 1919. CONTENTS PAGE PART I. LAS SIERRAS DE MAL ABRIGO 9 PART II. EL CERRO DEL PICHINANGO 68 PART III. LA ESTANCIA ESPERANZA 169 BLANCO Y COLORADO. PART I. LAS SIERRAS DE MAL ABRIGO. The clock of the "Cathedral de la Matrix" was striking ten on a lovely morning in October, when our signal gun was fired, and the anchor of the S.S. "Copernicus" let go to find bottom in the muddy waters of La Plata. On the right the town of Monte Video, with its whitewashed "azotea," or flat-roofed houses, glistened in the bright sunshine; to the left the broad estuary stretched away towards the open sea; while in front of us the famous Cerro, a gently sloping hill, looked green and fresh and pleasant after our long sea voyage. The tug which brought off the Medical Officer of Health did not delay long before coming alongside, when permission was given to the passengers to land, and I soon found myself standing with my baggage on the Custom House wharf, and having duly passed it, made my way to the "Hotel Oriental." Here I enquired when a diligence would leave for the interior, which would take me within reasonable distance of my friend's estancia, whom I had come out to visit, which I believed to be situate about thirty-three leagues, or one hundred miles, up country. I was informed that it was to leave the next morning, but that, as it started from a "fonda," or inn, outside the town at 5 a.m., it would be necessary to sleep there, otherwise I should certainly miss it. At this time the diligence was the only public conveyance traversing the country, a railway being as yet unthought of. So I ordered some dinner at the "Hotel Oriental," and occupied the interval by having a look round the city. I was much pleased with the straight, wide streets, running at right angles, by the size and importance of the public buildings, and by many of the private houses, often opening on to a "plaza," or square, prettily planted with trees and flowering shrubs. But I was most impressed by the variety and beauty of the excellent shops, which I could hardly have expected to find in a South American town at that time, so remote from Europe. I also saw more than one of the famous "quintas," or villas, with large grounds, where semi-tropical flowers can be seen in all their beauty, and palms and magnolias everywhere flourish. I arrived at the inn whence the diligence started at 9 p.m. The proprietor received me with courtesy, and shewed me my bedroom, which was small and not very clean; but it had a window opening on the street, so I could get plenty of air. Some natives were making a noise in the bar below, where they had doubtless been drinking, and seemed inclined to quarrel. I gave instructions to be called, and the last thing I heard as I dropped off to sleep was the cry of the "sereno," or night-watchman, whose business it was, during the night, to call the time and state of the weather every half hour. A loud rapping at my door awoke me in time to look up my baggage and drink some hot coffee, before a start was made. Dawn was fast breaking in the East as five horses and three mules were being harnessed up, four abreast, to the old wooden diligence, which carried the mails and baggage piled on its top, the passengers sitting facing each other on hard wooden seats inside. In front, beneath a wooden shelter, sat the driver, with room for one passenger beside him. The diligence was heavily built, with large broad wooden wheels, and there were no springs. In front rode a native on horseback, with his lasso made fast to the leading horses, so that he was able to guide the course of the diligence. His was an office of importance, and he was called the "quartia dor." The team was evidently well accustomed to the streets, so we rumbled heavily along, passed suburb and quinta, until houses became less frequent, and by the end of the first stage had ceased to appear; and we then saw before us the rolling plains of Uruguay. A word as to my fellow-passengers. Four were apparently business men, probably buyers of produce, one of whom spoke French, and kindly gave me information as we went along. The fifth was an officer, in a lieutenant's uniform. Reaching the end of our first stage, we found another team shut up in a yard, waiting. This time they were all horses, diverse in colour, wilder, and more spirited than the others. But they were soon harnessed up, and we quickly got under weigh, the driver now increasing our speed. As we descended a decline we went mostly at full gallop, to get across the mud in the stream at the bottom, and so have a good impetus for the rise on the other side, the old diligence, which had seen much service, swaying and rolling like a ship in a sea-way. By eleven o'clock we reached Santa Lucia, then only a village, with one so-called hotel, and a straggling street of native huts. Here we waited for an hour for breakfast: meat, boiled and roast, with vegetables; bread, cheese, and coffee, which we much appreciated. Then, with four new passengers and a fresh team of horses, we made a start for the town of San José, where we were to stop for the night. As we proceeded, the country opened out before us on every side, the rolling plain, with here and there a clump of trees to mark some native estancia, where a flock of sheep, and also cattle, could be seen feeding in absolute freedom, for there were no fences or divisions of any kind, neither was there anything in the way of cultivation. Occasionally a native came into view, galloping after a troop of horses, his poncho fluttering in the wind, and then, as he passed over a roll of the plain, like some phantom, would seem to disappear. The afternoon was drawing to a close when we saw far in front of us the golden rays of the now fast-declining sun reflected on the cupola of the large church, flanking the principal square of the country town of San José. Gradually the houses rise up on the horizon, and half an hour later we drive up with the usual flourish in front of the "Hotel Oriental." It was apparently an old house, situate in the main street. We dined in a long low room, with the addition of soup and a sweet, much as we had breakfasted. Within its walls more than one murder had been planned, and many a political "cabale" concocted; indeed, I was told that at the very table where I sat an officer was dining with some boon companions. When sipping their coffee he turned to them and said, "Tengo rabia voy à matar un Gringo," "I feel in a rage, I am going to kill a foreigner." He went straight out, and turning up the street, met an Italian stonemason returning home from work. He pierced him through with his sword, and, walking off to where he had left his horse, mounted, and rode away. The poor man died, but the matter was hushed up, and nothing more was heard about it. I soon went to bed, feeling tired, and my limbs ached from the bumping and confinement of the diligence for so many hours. In the morning we started early. The sun was just rising above the horizon as we left the outskirts of San José, and made for the open plain, unbroken, save by the dull grey line which alone seemed to mark the "camino real," or Government road. At eleven o'clock we stopped at a pulperia, or store, for some breakfast, and for fresh horses, which were ready waiting for us. They were a wilder lot this time, and a chestnut and a piebald especially gave trouble, at first refusing to be harnessed. Once started, however, they had nothing for it but to settle down, aided by a free application of the driver's whip. Just before two o'clock we reached Guaycoru, where my journey by diligence ended; this being the nearest point to my friend's estancia. Gathering together my saddle, bridle and light baggage, I entered the pulperia, or store, to enquire in what direction my friend's estancia lay, and how far off it was. The pulpero, or storekeeper, fortunately could speak a little French, which was a great help. He was very polite, pointed out the direction, saying it was only between five and six miles distant, and was situate at the far end of some rocky country which stretched out before us. He offered to supply me with a couple of horses, one for myself and another for my baggage, and to send a rather ruffianly-looking mulatto, half Spanish and half negro, his face badly pitted with small pox, to act as guide, and also to bring back the horses. He soon appeared with a bay, a grey, and a piebald, and I at once occupied myself fitting my saddle and bridle on the former, and not apparently to his satisfaction. The headstall of the bridle was too long, the girths of the saddle too short; but at last I got them to meet, and, slinging my belongings over the back of the piebald and mounting his grey, my attendant made a start, and I followed a few paces behind. Our departure being watched with great interest by the pulpero and his family. We had not gone far when we got in among the rocks, or "sierras," as they were called, lying in long large masses, not very high except in places; although, often rising well above one's head as you rode along through the breaks between. Owing to the shelter thus afforded, this district was noted as being the resort of robbers. The lay of the land favoured these gentlemen, as they could easily hide both their horses and themselves among the rocks during the day, and then go out with the moon at night to kill a young cow, or steal a horse, as their fancy took them. They were not a pleasant lot to have to do with, and I could see that my not understanding Spanish alone prevented my dark-skinned guide from duly expatiating upon the dangers of the road. Meanwhile, the sun was declining, and there was no wind. You could hardly hear a sound, and a weird creepy kind of feeling came over me as we entered a passage between two large rocks, higher and steeper than hitherto, which seemed to twist and turn so that I could not help wondering when and where we were going to come out. Every now and then we came across a few cattle, which made off hurriedly as we approached, and when we happened to see a horse or two they instantly got out of sight round some turn of the rocks, evidently well-known to them, but which seemed to me an all but impossible path. And so we kept jogging along, until the rocks got smaller and fewer, and at length we came out into a piece of open country, where a large flock of sheep were quietly grazing, their faces apparently set, as their custom is at eventide, towards home. About half a mile in front of us was the estancia whither we were bound, quiet and peaceful as I first saw it in the rays of the now setting sun. An azotea, or flat-roofed house, whitewashed outside; near it two large "ombus," a tree much valued for its shade; to the left three or four "ranchos," or huts, the walls of mud, the roofs of a reed called "paja"; on one side a yard for sheep, and on the other a large corral, in which to shut in horses and cattle; it did not look imposing, but I saw it all with interest as being for me a resting place, and with pleasure, for I had now reached the end of my long journey. My friend, Robert Royd, saw me riding up, and came out to welcome me. He had a fall from his horse, and sprained his knee, so was prevented coming in to Monte Video to meet me, as he had hoped to do. I was glad to see him again. I had known him in England when life held out a different prospect for him, and we had neither of us heard of Uruguay. How he came to be located at Las Sierras de Mal Abrigo he could hardly have told you himself. He went out for a voyage to Monte Video, took a fancy to the country and its climate, and to the open-air life, made up his mind to set up as an estanciero in a small way, and here he was. I had now to make the acquaintance of another person, Mr. Henry Marsh, called by the natives Henriquez. He had exchanged life in a merchant's office in London for a similar position in Mexico, where he had met with misfortune. He had drifted down the coast, first to Pernambuco, and afterwards to Monte Video, where he at length found himself without money or friends. Royd happened to come across him, and taking a fancy to him, brought him up country to look after a flock of sheep. He was a pleasant little man, a regular cockney through and through. He became somewhat plaintive whenever he talked of the past, and was apt to be nervous and over-anxious; but he was willing and obliging, and always glad to help in any way he could. He professed to understand and rather to like Spaniards, but he was really in mortal fear of a native, and he never went out far without a large revolver, and also a big knife stuck in his belt behind, neither of which formidable weapons would he have been at all willing to use. When I arrived, a Frenchman, whom we called Pedro, was acting as cook. He was not at all fond of soap and water, nor did he take much pride in the culinary art, for he apparently gave us an endless succession of mutton chops. But however early you wanted to make a start in the morning, he was always ready with hot coffee, and would get you some food at almost any hour of the day. So as our movements were often erratic, there were compensations. A native "peon," or servant, and a boy to get up horses, completed the establishment. As regards the stock, there were the flock of sheep before mentioned, about nine hundred in number, and another larger one of about fifteen hundred, towards the other end of the estancia, at a "puesto," as it was called in the direction, but to the West of the pulperia of Guaycoru, where I had first arrived in the diligence. The country was open there, being outside the "sierras," and a young Englishman called Charles Bent had arranged to take charge of this flock not long before I came upon the scene. He was a nice young fellow, with fair hair and blue eyes. He had a quick temper, but a kind heart. Having learnt farming in England in the usual kind of way, he came out to Uruguay. He had some capital, which he invested in sheep, and renting land up towards the Rio Negro, started on his own account. But he was without South American experience, and he had also bad luck: many of his sheep were stolen, others died of disease, and after about three years his money had vanished, and he was compelled, like others, to earn his living; so he took to the usual occupation of looking after a flock of sheep. He was always tidy and neat in appearance, and had a nice sheep dog, called "Bob," which he had brought with him from England, then little more than a puppy, of which he was very fond. There were seven hundred head of cattle on the place, which fed in a semi-wild state among the rocks, on a stretch of country some three and a half miles long, and half to three-quarters of a mile broad, known as the estancia; as also did a troop of mares and colts, mostly pretty wild. These latter were often difficult to come across, and to run them up into the stone enclosure, or "manga," near the house was no easy matter. We had seventeen riding horses of varied quality, mostly brought up into the wooden corral near the house every morning, so that we might each catch up a horse for the needs of the day. The cattle were very apt to stray outside the boundary of the estancia, and so get mixed up with those belonging to neighbours, often causing annoyance. This was much more the case on the Eastern than on the Western boundary, which was fortunate, as the natives living on that side were not only more friendly, but had better places themselves, and were therefore able to give us more help in keeping the cattle apart. On the Western side the rocks became ever a greater feature of the landscape, with but little open land between, thus forming a suitable resort for "matreros," _i.e._, people in hiding, of doubtful reputation, with no character whatever to lose. Here was where we had reason to apprehend trouble, should a revolution break out. We each took a turn to "repuntar," or drive in the cattle, which fed together in groups, and the same thing took place with the mares and colts. They also had to be continually turned inwards, and gathered up every now and again into the "manga," or stone enclosure to be looked over. When you had been some time at this work, it was wonderful how keen your eyesight became, and how it adapted itself to your needs. For instance, you could make out cattle and horses at a distance, when the ordinary observer would hardly know they were animals at all. Moreover, your eye became accustomed to tell you whether they were your own or your neighbour's, by their manner of feeding when grouped, their apparent number, and their behaviour when disturbed. Early morning and late afternoon was the time for this work, especially in warm weather, as both horses and cattle were glad to take advantage of the shelter of the high rocks during the heat of the day. We had three dogs, which helped us greatly, as they yelped and barked and chased the cattle to their heart's content. I rather took to this work; there was a kind of excitement about it, as you never quite knew whom you were likely to come across, or what was likely to happen before you got home. At evening, too, if you chanced to be late, there was a certain weirdness about it all: the huge masses of rock casting their grey shadows as the sun fell towards the horizon, and then when it had fully set, a great silence seemed to fall upon everything. Scarcely a sound could be heard in any direction. The "pteru-pteru," or wild plover, ceased his shrill cry, and both bird and beast, active during daylight, quietly sought their rest. Not so, however, those of the night, for when the short twilight was over, and darkness had fairly set in you could hear strange sounds and noises, as if something or other was at work, never seen nor heard during the day, and the short bark of the wild fox would sound out sharp and clear as he sallied forth in search of his prey. Then, indeed, you feel truly glad when the welcome light of the estancia house tells you that you are nearly home. Your horse, too, knows that he is near, that his work for that day at any rate, is done, and he looks joyfully forward to joining his companions, and to a peaceful time till morning. It was usual, once a week, to gather up all the cattle together upon a spot selected for that purpose, where a high post is fixed in the ground, around which when collected the cattle revolve. Upon such an occasion, those who had furthest to go were on horseback soon after dawn, each taking an appointed route, and as he returned driving the cattle in front of him. On this estancia there were special difficulties to contend with, as the high masses of rock enabled here and there a point of cattle to break back unseen, or if you did see them, probably it was at a place where it was difficult to follow them. But the horses were truly wonderful, as they carried you at a gallop over the rocky and uneven ground. They seldom made a mistake; bred among the sierras, they were quite at home there, and you soon learnt to give them their head, and to trust that all would be well. With us this weekly gathering together of the cattle never seemed entirely satisfactory. They never came up together all at one time. One portion or another seemed always to be missing. The long, narrow position of the estancia, and its rough and rocky character probably accounted for this. Moreover, we were always short-handed, and we could not keep any consecutive line as is done in more open country. This was therefore a day of disappointment, and we could not help fearing some of the cattle had been stolen; certainly we did not know where to find them. Royd took this a good deal to heart, for when he bought the herd this trouble had not been anticipated. The fact was the cattle had got rather out of hand, and we also feared animals were being killed on the camp, by "matreros," or fugitive soldiers, of whose existence in the district we were at the time unaware, but who afterwards proved themselves dangerous neighbours. Our sheep never seemed to suffer; on the contrary, they did well; nor was Charles Bent troubled in any way. For this we were thankful, and kept up our spirits accordingly. As to the troop of mares and colts, they had things pretty much their own way. They could gallop like the wind, and go faster over the rough ground than we could, and we were obliged to try and run them up to the manga, or stone enclosure, just as we happened most easily to come across them. The summer, with its long hot afternoons, was now passing, and the early autumn, perhaps the most pleasant time of the southern year, was close upon us. As the weather got cooler, I was continually out among the sierras looking after cattle, and I almost always went alone. I had happened to fasten over a black bowler hat a white "pugaree," with its ends hanging down behind to protect the back of my neck from the sun, and late one afternoon when following a path among the rocks with which I was well acquainted, my horse took a wrong turn. In a few moments, passing from beneath the shadow of a large grey rock to my right, I suddenly found myself in a small open space, about one hundred yards long by thirty wide, where the grass grew green and long, and a tiny stream trickled; quite an oasis in a small way. Here, seated on the ground, their horses saddled and feeding near them, were five men, apparently soldiers, for each had a broad red band round his black felt hat, and a lance stuck in the ground, from which hung the red banner. A fire was already lighted, over which was a large roast, part of a young cow they had lately killed. A kettle was almost on the boil, and they were evidently about to enjoy a meal. Their "arms" and "ponchos" were piled in a heap, but each held either a knife or a short dagger in his hand, and I noticed that two at least carried revolvers in their belts. They were a rough-looking lot, as much surprised to see me as I was to see them. For the moment I hardly knew what best to do. I was quite unarmed, but did not wish to appear nervous or frightened; nor could I make a satisfactory retreat. So I sat on my horse, perfectly still, and then they all got up and surrounded me, gesticulating violently, and pointing to the white covering of my hat, which seemed to be the cause of the annoyance. My feigned composure somewhat calmed their excitement. They told me to hand over my hat and, placing it on a point of rock about fifteen paces distant, succeeded in putting a bullet through it with a revolver, to their great amusement and satisfaction. Meanwhile those who were not shooting tried to frighten me; making signs with their knives that it was all over with me, but seeing I was an Englishman they fortunately had no real motive to hurt me; had they wished to do so, I was completely at their mercy. Being "colorados," soldiers belonging to the Red Party, they chose to assume that the white covering on my hat was a Blanco device; but of course, they knew this was not so. Finally, they allowed me to depart unharmed, returning to me my hat, minus its white covering which they tore in pieces, but still with the bullet hole in it as a proof of what happened. The matter was not much in itself, but it shewed that mischief was brewing, and that it was becoming unsafe to ride about in the rocks alone, more especially if unarmed. From that day forth I also started a revolver, to the proper loading of which I saw carefully before going any distance away. When I got home and related what happened, it did not tend to reassure poor Royd, who was rather in low spirits about things in general. He had moreover heard that afternoon from a passing traveller there was a rumour a revolution had actually broken out. However, a week passed, and we heard no more of it, so we followed our usual occupations, leaving matters to declare themselves. A few days later, when running up a point of mares, we managed to include three colts which hitherto had always eluded us. They were all chestnuts, very wild, very fast, with long flowing manes and tails. Two of them had a broad white blaze, each with two white hind feet. The third was larger than the others, with long, sloping quarters; rather a light chestnut, with a white star on his forehead and nothing more. He had good shoulders and a smooth easy way of slipping along which greatly took my fancy. So I bought him for a nominal sum and handed him over to a decent little native named Severo to break in for me. When he returned the horse to me I found he quite justified my expectations, and although still a bit raw he was easy and pleasant to ride; and I called him _Carnival_. I also took rather an interest in Severo, who was a beautiful rider, with a good seat and light hands. He could speak a few words of English; where he had learned them I did not know, but he seemed anxious to be communicative, and to teach me a few words of Spanish when I went to see how my horse was getting on. He had lately married, and lived in a rancho, or native hut, only a short distance from our Southern boundary. When I arrived I was invited to sit down on their only chair, placed in the centre of the room, Severo himself sitting on a little wooden stool, while the bride served Matè, a liquid made by pouring boiling water on a couple of spoonfuls of "yerba," a kind of tea grown in Brazil; a favourite beverage among the Spaniards. The Matè is really the gourd in which the tea is served. You suck it into your mouth through a bombilla, or silver tube, which latter, if you are not careful, is apt to get so hot as often to burn your lips. This beverage and the offer of a cigarette is the orthodox form of native hospitality. One morning a party of soldiers showing Red colours galloped up unexpectedly and took Severo prisoner, with a view to making him serve in the Government forces. Remonstrance was in vain! He had to saddle up his best horse and to start at once. His poor young wife was in despair, and she rode up in tears to tell Royd of her trouble. It was useless to attempt to get him back, so we comforted her as best we could, with the hope that her husband would manage to make his escape at the first convenient opportunity. If he belonged to any political party it was to the "Blancos," with whom his wife's people had always been mixed up. This made the enforced separation a greater trial to both of them. It was fortunate for me that "Carnival" had already been returned to me, or he also would probably have fallen into their hands. That same afternoon a party of "Colorados" called at the estancia to take our "peon," or native servant, for a soldier, but he saw them coming in time, and got away among the rocks and hid himself before they arrived, so they were obliged to go away without him. It was evident the Reds were taking up men not only for the ordinary strengthening of the Government forces, but for some special purpose. This, and the persistent rumour we were constantly hearing of a revolution having broken out in the direction of the "Rio Negro," put us upon our guard, and we took such measures as we could to look sharply after our stock, more especially our horses, and to avoid being taken unawares. We also looked up our arms and ammunition, and considered what we could do for the best in case of any serious and sudden trouble. The position of Uruguay was at this time probably unique in the usual stormy history of a South American republic. Torn by faction and internal strife, peace alone seemed wanting to ensure its progress and prosperity. The many natural advantages, such as a good climate, abundant water, grassy plains, and the beautiful woods which bordered the rivers, rendered it especially suitable for pastoral purposes. Agriculture was as yet almost unknown, except in the immediate neighbourhood of the towns, and was then of the most primitive description. But the land itself was fertile in many districts, consisting of a rich black loam, where crops of wheat and maize would give excellent results, and an abundant yield could be anticipated in suitable situations from a virgin and not easily exhausted soil. The Flores war, which had lasted for three years, had ended in the temporary subjugation of the Blanco, or White Party, and the placing in power of a "Colorado," or Red government. This was not in sympathy with the majority of the people, more especially those engaged in pastoral pursuits, such as the raising of sheep and cattle, headed by the large native land owners, mostly "Blancos," and therefore bitterly opposed to the "Colorados," or "Reds." These latter often had a majority in and near the provincial towns, and especially in Monte Video, the capital. They were led by what may be termed professional politicians, their soldiers being partly made up of paid foreigners, forming fairly efficient infantry, together with a large number of natives, whom they pressed in their service when in power. Some of these, too, received payment, so long as their party possessed sufficient funds, while a great number got very little except their food and arms. Their bands of irregular horse comprised anyone and everyone who had nothing to do, together with what might be termed the scum of the townsmen, who had nothing whatever to lose; least of all their reputation. Moreover, there were certain families, Reds by tradition, whose heads occupied the government posts when the "Colorados" were in power, and whose minor members and hangers-on swarmed in the Public Offices. There were also certain "estancieros" throughout the country, especially up towards the Brazilian frontier, many of them influential and wealthy, whose politics had always been Red, and who were supporters of the "Colorado Party." But they were not nearly so united either in heart or sympathy as were the Blancos, nor did they cultivate the same enthusiasm. The Blancos included the descendants of most of the old Castilian families, who had been the original Spanish Colonists, and they possessed, therefore, a certain aristocratic element, if you could justly so term it, as being part of the inner life of the republic. Their importance and influence, and comparative wealth, accrued mainly from landed property and the countless herds of sheep and cattle which spread themselves far and wide, finding good and abundant pasturage on the rolling and grass-covered plains. While therefore the "Reds" were enabled to maintain themselves in power by means of an ample supply of money, so long as they could control the resources of the republic, popular sympathy in general was with the White Party; indeed, so great was the disaffection and discontent at this particular time, it needed but a spark, as it were, applied to gunpowder to set the whole country in a flame. It only required a real leader, who commanded the full confidence of the native population, to come upon the scene, and to raise high the standard of revolt, for the people to flock to his banner far and wide throughout the country. Thus, as it were in a moment, in a South American republic, is a revolution born and made. Nor can this be wondered at when you consider that intrigue and revolution is but a natural attribute of all populations of purely Spanish descent, and when you come to mingle an Indian and Italian and foreign element, and then try to purify the whole by an admixture of the unruly blood of Spain, the result means a state of general unrest, and a condition of affairs in which the seeds of revolution are for ever present. Another incentive is that during a revolution, horses are looked upon as munitions of war, and may be taken from their owners as required, to be returned and paid for as Providence may permit. Sheep and cattle, too, required for food, may be commandeered by armed troops as necessity requires, a nominal receipt for their value being usually given by the officer in charge, which in all probability will never be paid. All this naturally gives an opportunity to the less honest and self-respecting classes of the community to live a free, roving, careless kind of life at other people's expense. Although natives will tell you they hate the law of conscription which obliges them to serve for a time in the army, this is by no means always really true. Moreover, many of those who are poor are apt to look upon time of war as a means of relief from the necessity for honest toil, always distasteful to the Spaniard of South America. They, moreover, manage to console themselves fairly well for a temporary absence from their home, with a dim and ill-defined hope that if only they have good luck they may possibly come out of it all considerably better off than they went in. One afternoon, a "tropero," or buyer of cattle, rode up to the house to enquire if we had any fat bullocks to sell. He told us he was making up a large troop round about the neighbourhood to take in to Monte Video. Of course, he was full of news about the revolution, and he should not be surprised if war were to break out at any time. As he offered Royd fifteen dollars each for any bullocks which were fat, the latter thought it best to turn anything he could into cash. So it was arranged we should have a gathering together of the cattle on the following day, so as to allow the purchaser to part out what he wished, and he also arranged to stay the night with us. He was a pleasant man, well-dressed, and the silver fittings of his native saddle and bridle were quite magnificent. A little before dawn next morning found us all on the move. The cook had already got hot coffee. Our horses had been tied up the night before, and we saddled up just as day was breaking, and one after another slipped quietly away, each of us taking his appointed line in the general drive up of the herd. The tropero himself did not go, but his two young men lent a hand, we, of course, finding them horses. This morning things went better with us than usual, and twice when the wildest of the bullocks made a rush and tried to break back they were effectively stopped and disappointed. Altogether we had a very good "para rodeo," but few of our cattle apparently remaining behind. Next followed the parting out of the fat animals. A short distance away from the general herd, which kept revolving round a large post placed in the centre of the "rodeo," about a dozen tame animals were stationed, guarded by a couple of young natives. Each fat bullock, as it was selected by the "tropero," was then run out of the herd into this little group, the tropero and his head man commencing operations by running them out himself. It was all very neatly done. They rode quietly in among the cattle, which we kept rounded up on every side. Fixing their attention upon a fat bullock, they placed their horses close up to it, one on either side, and so ran it out with a sudden rush in the direction of the tame animals. Sometimes it refused to be so dealt with, and persistently broke back at all costs. Then the lasso was brought into play, and after it had been lassoed and bullied about it generally thought better of it and did what was required. For this particular work the rider must possess not only skill, but he must be well mounted. His horse must be fast and active on his legs; he must be intelligent, so as to enter thoroughly into the spirit of the work, and he must also have plenty of courage. At the same time he must exercise caution, and thoroughly know his business, otherwise either he or his rider, probably both, may get caught on the horns of the bullock and so come to serious grief. But it is wonderful to see how a good horse will himself enjoy it, and with what marvellous perfection and accuracy he will perform his part. The rider, too, must have good nerves, and above all a firm seat, and an accurate eye for judging distance. As a rule, however, if he is really well mounted, the more he trusts to his horse and the less he worries him the better. Meanwhile, to Royd's gratification, the tropero parted out fifty fat bullocks; quite a good parting for our comparatively small herd, but, as a matter of fact, our cattle did wonderfully well among the rocks if only they were left quiet. They had plenty of clear water, and the grasses which grew there were sweet and nourishing, while in summer time they greatly enjoyed both the shade and shelter. On the following day, Friday, I rode over to the pulperia, or store, at Guaycoru and, as several things were wanted, I took the boy with me, mounted on an old grey horse, across the saddle of which a pair of large saddle bags were slung, in which to carry them. We had not long arrived at the pulperia when a native rode up, mounted on a fine "oscuro," or _dark_ brown horse, with a long flowing mane and tail, his reins, breastplate, and stirrups all mounted in solid silver. He was a good-looking man, something over thirty years of age; a slight but firmly knit figure as he sat on his horse, with the easy, graceful seat of one born almost in the saddle. His wide black "bombachos," or loose trousers, tucked inside high boots, ornamented with silver spurs. The broad-brimmed felt hat, the long "facon," a two-edged dagger, stuck in his belt, and a white silk handkerchief tied loosely round his neck, all betokened the "Spanish caballero," the free, independent life of the horseman on the open plain. Quickly dismounting, he carelessly strolled into the "pulperia," with the usual "Buenos tardes Señores," "Good afternoon, gentlemen." But as he passed me I noticed that he was fully armed, and had also an alert watchful look about him, and the thought passed through my mind that here at any rate was no ordinary man. He talked a few moments to the pulpero, somewhat earnestly, and then came forward, raising his hat, and offered me a cigarette, remarking something about the heat of the afternoon. Soon after, I and the boy, having collected our purchases, mounted our horses to return. Just as we rode round the edge of the outbuildings a dark-skinned individual in somewhat tattered garments rose from a low seat where he had been sitting smoking, and came hurriedly forward. "Did you speak to the Señor with the 'oscuro,'" he asked. "Yes!" I replied, "what about him?" The mulatto smiled and showed his white teeth, and then said, almost in a whisper, "You do not know him! Mamerto Godez! Cuidado! (Beware)." One afternoon just about three o'clock, I was sitting in the dining room writing a letter. It was quite warm, and both door and windows stood wide open. Royd and Henriquez had gone off to a pulperia owned by a man called Saballa, on the other side of the River Rosario, to buy some necessaries. I heard the dogs barking, but paid no attention, when suddenly half a dozen soldiers with the white device round their hats, and carrying the white banner on their lances, rode up from behind the house and halted at the front door. I went out and stood right in front of them. One who seemed superior to the others accosted me in Spanish, and I understood him to say that war had broken out, and that their business was to take up men and horses. Pedro the cook, so soon as he saw them, had gone to hide among the rocks, fearing, I suppose, lest he should be taken off for a soldier, Frenchman though he was! However, I explained as well as my scanty knowledge of Spanish would permit exactly who were employed, and I also told him about our horses. The result of it all was that they rode off more or less satisfied, saying that as "Don Roberto" was away they would call about them another time. About five o'clock Royd and Henriquez returned, having obtained all they wanted, and also bringing news. A revolution had broken out far and wide throughout the country, and a Colonel Aparicio, who had distinguished himself in a previous war, when General Flores and the Colorados were victorious, had apparently taken temporary command of the Blanco forces, which were increasing enormously day by day. That evening we held a consultation as to how we could act for the best. Royd was naturally rather despondent, for the rocky nature of the estancia obviously increased our difficulty in protecting and guarding the stock, besides affording a safe refuge for thieves and bad characters of every kind. This was always a drawback in time of peace, and, of course, the danger would be infinitely greater in time of war. However, there seemed nothing for it but to await events, and meanwhile do our best to keep our cattle and horses together as well as we could. The flock of sheep near the house fed where the land was open, and Henriquez looked after them. Should he be away, then either I or the boy did so for him. The other flock up towards Guaycoru fed also in open country, and Charles Bent was careful and reliable, and could be trusted to look well after them. He seldom went away from his "puesto," or hut, where he lived alone, his sole companion being his sheep-dog, "Bob," which he had brought out with him, when little more than a puppy, from England. He had one or two neighbours on his further side, who were friendly, and he also was no great distance from the pulperia where I had first arrived in the diligence; so up to now he had not found it quite so lonely as might have been expected. The stone manga, where we could shut in horses, and also a fair number of cattle, was in a broken and bad condition, and Royd decided that he would get an Italian stonemason and his son, who lived not very far away, towards the Rosario, to come over and build up all the gaps and so put it in good order. Meanwhile, we had to get the stone from where it lay among the big rocks; no easy job! It then had to be put upon a wooden truck to which a pair of bullocks were yoked, who slowly conveyed it to the corral. Fortunately, for a few days the weather was fine and cool. We all took our share of this work, which was tedious and tiring. We got a good supply by the time the stonemason and his son arrived. The father was a thin, rather careworn-looking man, beyond middle age, with hair fast turning grey; the son, a wiry-looking youth of about sixteen, with black hair and a sallow complexion. With them came a sandy-yellow coloured dog, eleven months old, very thin and lanky-looking, but with muscular limbs, a long, straight back, a broad forehead, small ears, and a pair of very intelligent eyes. For some reason or other he took a fancy to me, and I saw he was well fed, for which he seemed very grateful. He had the look of a lurcher, and was, of course, a mongrel. He was the son's dog, from whom I bought him for a couple of dollars. He was called "Napoleon," and I never altered his name. We saw no more of the soldiers, so we contented ourselves with keeping a constant eye on the horses, leaving the cattle for the time being to look after themselves, nor did we attempt to gather them up to the "rodeo," while the stonemason and his son were with us. Having finished their work they bid us adieu, received payment, and with many thanks, took their departure. "Napoleon" did not evince the least desire to go back with them, for when they mounted their horses he came and lay down by me, showing no sorrow at his change of owners. Following on all this, I resumed my work of riding out among the rocks to look up the cattle again, and the dog seemed very glad to go with me. I had not been at this more than a couple of days when I thought I missed a point of animals I had always been accustomed to find feeding more or less in the same locality. I reported this to Royd, who had not been very well. I think he had overdone himself, when we were all so busy collecting the stone. He decided we should have a "para rodeo," or gathering together of the herd, so as to form a better idea whether any of our cattle had been stolen. So on Saturday morning we all sallied forth just after daybreak, our horses having been tied up the night before. The gathering up, however, was not a successful one, for although we did not let any we saw break back, when we got them upon the rodeo they certainly seemed fewer than usual. From the way they came up we hardly thought any had stayed behind among the rocks. The next day Royd and I took a turn round to visit our neighbours, to enquire if any of our cattle had been seen by them. They welcomed us in a friendly manner, and were all apparently anxious to talk about the war, and to relate all they had heard regarding it. But we could hear nothing about our missing cattle. All, therefore, we could do was to arrange for another gathering up within a week, and two of our neighbours kindly offered to help us. They arranged to meet us at the far end of the estancia, just after sunrise, and a couple of native boys came with them. However, when we got the herd collected on the "rodeo," they again seemed to be fewer than usual, so we shut part of them up in the stone manga, for it would not hold them all, and first counted those outside and then those inside, and we were sadly compelled to conclude that quite fifty animals were missing. Where to find them we did not know, and we could only hope they would turn up again at the next para-rodeo. A few days later, Henriquez started off early in the afternoon to Saballa's pulperia, with the large saddle-bags slung over his saddle to bring back his purchases. He returned just before sunset, and we at once saw by his manner that something unusual had happened. He told us the people at the pulperia were much upset because on the previous day a little over a mile away, down near the wood which bordered the river Rosario, a poor Italian musician had been found lying with his throat cut from ear to ear. Whoever had done the deed appeared to have tied a poor little monkey to the ankle of the dead man, and so to have left them by the side of his small barrel-organ, which was also much broken. The body was lying at the pulperia when Henriquez arrived, waiting permission for burial; and he also saw the monkey, which was being taken care of. It certainly shewed there were some very wicked people about, as from the footprints round the place where the body was found, it would seem that whoever did it was not alone. The Italian had been playing two nights before at the house of a native, where there had been a small dance, when several girls and young men were present, all of whom, however, were well-known. In the morning he had some coffee given to him, and left the house quite well, en route for the pulperia, and late that afternoon his body was found by a casual passer-by, who at once gave notice of what had happened. Poor Henriquez was greatly affected during the evening, and kept repeating over and over again, "Pobre Italiano" (poor Italian). "There he lay with his throat cut from ear to ear. Oh! it's 'orrid, 'orrid, 'orrid!" For in his distress the cockney accent became more pronounced than ever. When, however, he had somewhat recovered his composure, he told us the Whites were assembling in large force up towards Paysandu, and that many Blancos from our neighbourhood had already gone outside to join them. Meanwhile, the Reds were assembling in the province of San José, as also in the Department of Colonia, and he seemed to think at present we had more to fear from the Government forces so far as our horses and cattle were concerned than we had from the revolutionists. As "Carnival" was rather a good-looking horse, I caught him up most days, although I only rode him occasionally. I let him out to feed late in the afternoon, when so far as we knew all seemed to be quiet. Royd had an "ovaro," or piebald, he thought a lot of, and also a grey he often rode, and Henriquez took all the care he could of a nice little chestnut he was very proud of, and always rode on special occasions. Things now went on much as usual, and we had no visit from the Red soldiers, for which we were thankful. I was out pretty regularly looking up the cattle, and I kept on fancying from time to time that some were missing; nor, when we had the para rodeo did I ever think as many came up as used to do. We had some of the small fallow deer of the pampas about among the rocks, and they could often be seen coming out towards late afternoon into the open glades to feed. I managed to shoot four of them with my rifle, and took off their skins which, when dried in the sun, soften easily. I also shot a couple of "carpinchos," a kind of water-pig, which could often be seen about sunset on the bank of the stream running along the western side of the camp. They are hard to get near, and easily frightened. Their skins are much thought of by the natives, who get them tanned, and put them across the top of their "recados," or saddles. A few days later we were all sitting at breakfast when Charles Bent arrived. He had someone staying with him at the puesto for a few days, so was able to get away. He told us he had not been troubled by soldiers, and that the sheep were all right. But he said it was rumoured cattle had been stolen from a small native estancia, beyond where he lived, which belonged to a "Blanco," and it was supposed they had been taken by some "Colorado" soldiers, who wished to escape service, and whose chief hiding place was said to be among the large sierras on our camp. Royd did not like the look of this at all, as if true it would prove a great danger to our cattle, and might easily account for the number we thought missing. Bent stayed the night, and did not go back until next afternoon. He told me privately he believed there were some bad characters hiding among the rocks, but that he did not wish to say more than he could help to Royd, as he was apt to take things so much to heart, and it might cause him needless worry. But he begged me to be careful, and take every precaution when riding about among the sierras alone, looking up the cattle, and he advised me to have "Napoleon" with me, and to see that I was well armed. He also said he did not feel very happy himself, living alone at the "puesto," but as it was well outside the rocks, surrounded by open country, he intended to keep a sharp look-out and if possible to avoid being taken unawares. Fortunately, he had a placid, easy-going temperament, and was not at all nervous, nor was he inclined to meet trouble half-way. The following Friday, a little before eleven, a Blanco officer arrived, and with him about fifty soldiers. They were passing from the town of Colla, towards Guaycoru, and going on to join the White army. They had several extra horses with them, so they did not trouble much about ours, except a saino, or brown, which was feeding not far from the house, and this they asked to take along with them. I had "Carnival" tied up and saddled, as also was Royd's piebald, and Henriquez happened to be riding his chestnut down with the sheep. The other horses were among the rocks, so they did not see them. We invited the officer in to breakfast, which, after the Spanish fashion, we were accustomed to have at eleven o'clock, and dinner at sundown. He was quite young, having served but a short time in the army. He asked if his men might have something to eat, which meant they would like to kill a couple of sheep, and roast the meat over two fires made in the open. They also had some "farenha," a kind of meal, which they eat raw, with roast meat, and cooked into a sort of pudding with boiled. We also gave them "yerba" and sugar to make their matè, or native tea, and they were quite happy. They were all more or less armed with either lances or guns, and many carried both. Many had a revolver, and often a facon, or double-edged knife, stuck in their belts behind; but taking them all round, they were quite orderly, and the young officer seemed to have them under good control. He told us that the revolution was extremely popular. Men were flocking far and wide to the White banner, and up towards Paysandu had already joined in very large numbers. He asked us if any of the "Colorados" had come to the estancia, and if we knew of any being about in our neighbourhood. As they departed they looked quite picturesque, with the Blanco device round their hats, and the white banner flying from their lances, many leading their spare horses. They all rode off at a trotte-cito, or jog-trot, the young officer following alone in solitary grandeur behind. But their visit, although it passed off quite well, seemed unduly to depress poor Royd, whom we found it difficult to persuade into taking anything like a cheerful view of the situation. Towards the end of the next week, Henriquez said he should like to ride over and visit a friend who lived at a small native place on the other side of Guaycoru. So it was arranged he should go on Saturday morning, returning home on the Monday, and that I should keep an eye on the flock of sheep. They did not feed far distant from the house, and when once turned early in the afternoon, usually fed quietly on their way home. So on Saturday morning after coffee, Henriquez caught and saddled up his chestnut, putting on his best gear, and wearing a clean white shirt, a black jacket and waistcoat, and a pair of black "merino bombachos," or wide trousers, tucked inside a pair of carefully polished long boots. On these he buckled a pair of silver spurs, of which he was very proud, as also of the handsome silver buttons fastening the wide belt of carpincho skin he wore round his waist. Finally he put on his summer poncho, a very nice one, and a soft broad-brimmed felt hat completed his appearance, which seemed to give him every satisfaction. Just before mounting his horse he examined his revolver, which he carefully fixed in its proper place inside his belt. I rode with him for about half a mile, and the last I saw of him was as he turned round the corner of a large grey mass of rock which bordered the track, and so disappeared from view. He did not return on the Monday as expected, and on the Tuesday morning when the boy drove up the riding horses to the corral, much to our surprise his chestnut was among them, with a bit of broken hide hanging loosely down from where it was fastened round the horse's neck. We supposed, however, it had been collared to a mare where Henriquez was staying, as was a usual custom, and had broken away during the early part of the previous night, and so found its way home. However, both Tuesday and Wednesday passed and he did not return, as we felt quite sure he would do, on a horse borrowed from his friends. So on Thursday morning I started to ride over to the place where Henriquez had gone, and during my absence the boy was to watch the sheep. Arriving there, as I did, about nine o'clock, my surprise may be imagined when I was told that Henriquez had left them about two o'clock on the Monday afternoon, quite well, mounted on his own horse, and that he seemed anxious to reach home with as little delay as possible. I stayed about half an hour discussing the situation, and then started to ride to the pulperia at Guaycoru, to make further enquiries. When I got there the owner knew nothing, nor had he heard anything regarding Henriquez from anyone who had come to his pulperia. He was a kind little man, and much concerned at my news, and he promised to enquire from anyone who called at his house if perchance they might have seen Henriquez, or heard any news of him. I stayed a little while and got some coffee and two or three biscuits, and then remounted a big brown horse I was riding, somewhat loosely put together, but sure-footed all the same, and well-accustomed to stony country. He had a head quite half of it white, and two wall eyes, known to the natives as a "pampa," by which name he usually went. Horses of this type and colour were said to have belonged to the original Indians of the "Pampas," at the time of the Spanish colonisation. After again talking things over with the pulpero, we agreed my best plan would be to ride round by Bent's puesto, in case he should have heard anything, and if not, I could let him know what had happened, so that he too might make enquiries. I arrived a little before one o'clock, and saw Bent walking close to his house as I rode up. "Bob" ran out barking, but immediately knew me and gave me a friendly greeting. Bent, of course, had known Henriquez well, and was much perturbed by what I had to tell him. He had neither seen nor heard anything. All he could tell me was that it was rumoured there were a party of thieves supposed to be fugitives from the Reds, who were said to have taken up their quarters in the rocks, and were stealing small points of cattle and sheep as opportunity offered. These they were supposed to drive off at night if there was any moon, or else immediately after daybreak, to a place some considerable distance away, where they were said to collect them, and where doubtless they had friends ready to receive them. All this, however, was not very comforting, but I asked Bent to be sure and let us know at once if he heard any news of Henriquez, and also to make his disappearance known to anyone he might happen to come across, for he lived not very far from the "camino real," or Government road. I then mounted my horse, determined to lose no time in getting back to the estancia as soon as might be. I knocked the "pampa" along at about his best pace, considering the broken ground over which I had to pass. I always had a queer feeling passing through the rocks. You could see so little in front of you, and were so easily apt to miss your way. However, it was barely half past two when I rode up. Royd was at home, and at once came out of the house. He was much shocked and greatly upset by what I had to tell him, saying again and again he felt quite sure the worst had happened, and that we should none of us ever see or hear of poor Henriquez again. On Friday Royd and I spent the day searching the tracks which ran through the rocky part of the estancia; first those over which a horseman returning direct to the house was most likely to pass, and then the ones which ran out on either side, which it was not usual for a traveller to follow. We came across various signs that men with horses had recently been passing in and out of the sierras, for twice we came across places where apparently a young cow had been killed and a fire made near, where part of it at any rate had evidently been roasted, and that quite recently. On Saturday we carefully searched over another portion of the estancia, but all without result. Not a sign could we see of the missing man. Henriquez "had simply vanished!" On Monday morning we sent the boy over to the pulperia at Guaycoru with a letter to the pulpero, asking if he could give us any news. But all in vain; no one had seen or heard anything of him since he started from his friends' house on his chestnut horse to return home on that Monday afternoon, now exactly a week ago. Tuesday passed and nothing came to relieve our suspense. But on Wednesday morning Bent turned up about eleven o'clock, and I saw at once by his face that something had happened. Having his friend with him, he started on his horse to come down to the estancia, and not wishing to be away longer than he could help, he chose a track which ran through the centre of the rocks in a diagonal direction, not usually followed, which came out not more than three-quarters of a mile from the estancia house itself. Contrary to his custom, "Bob" followed his master, instead of staying at the puesto, where the sheep were, until his return. Bent was riding carefully along this track when "Bob" suddenly began to whine and bark, and turning off on one side disappeared round a big rock. Bent whistled and called, but the dog did not return. So he got off his horse and tied him up to a low bush which happened to be near. He then took out his revolver and followed on foot in the direction the dog had gone. He only went about fifty yards just round the edge of the large rock already mentioned when he found himself in a small open glade, some thirty yards long, and perhaps fifteen wide, at the far end of which stood "Bob," close by an object which lay stretched on the ground. Here was all that remained of poor Henriquez. He was lying slightly on one side, face downwards; his hat and poncho, and his long boots and silver spurs, his jacket and waistcoat, belt and revolver all gone! How he ever came there goodness only knew. Nothing was left but his white shirt, his black bombachos, and his stockings. It seemed as if the body must have been either carried or dragged to the place where it lay. His face looked peaceful, and the only thing to be noticed were signs of a wound where a bullet had entered just between the shoulders, apparently fired from behind. There were no signs of bruised or broken grass or horses' footprints, if indeed a horse could have got round the very narrow space beside the big rock. Bent covered the face with his pocket handkerchief, leaving the body lying exactly as it was when he found it, and then returning to where he had left his horse came on straight to the estancia. Royd was greatly affected by the sad news which Bent brought us, as well he might be. However, he said that he and I had better go back with Bent to the place, taking the native peon and a spade and pick with us, so that we might dig a grave, and so give the body a decent burial. Fortunately, we found a spot close by, where the stones and rock underneath the surface soil were more or less loose and detached. When we had finished digging the grave, Bent read a portion of the burial service, as we lowered all that remained of poor Henriquez into his last resting-place. We then filled in the earth again, placing the loose pieces of rock we had got out so that they covered and protected the top, our intention being later on to fix a wooden cross, suitably inscribed at the head of the grave, permanently to mark the place where our poor friend lay. It was late afternoon as Royd and I slowly and sorrowfully wended our way home, closely followed by the native peon, for Bent had returned to his puesto so soon as the interment was finally completed. Nothing much happened during the next few days. We had a gathering together of the cattle, but we were short-handed, and when we got them up to the rodeo we were compelled to conclude that a good many of them were missing. One morning, about nine o'clock, a dozen Government soldiers rode up, each with a red band round his hat and the red banner flying from their lances. They were not too civil, and merely said they were taking up horses and men. Our native peon was away among the rocks, looking for two of our riding horses, which were missing. Pedro, the cook, had retired to a dark corner of the kitchen. Our other horses were feeding at some distance from the house, but they asked for them to be brought up into the corral, so that they might take what they required. So we sent off the native boy to bring them in. Fortunately, "Carnival" and Royd's two horses happened to be feeding alone much further away, so they did not come up with the others, and the soldiers never saw them. They ended by taking five, including the pampa, previously mentioned, and they left us two in very poor condition. It was rather a trial to see them go off, but the soldiers gave us no choice in the matter, so we could not do otherwise than let them go. They also asked for some meat, and taking with them the greater part of a sheep which was hanging in the galpon, they rode off in the direction of Guaycoru, and we were pleased to see them depart without causing us further trouble. On the Monday following, Royd rode over to stay until the end of the week with some friends who had an estancia a few miles on our side of the town of San José. Nothing happened during his absence until Friday, when Bent rode up about eight o'clock in the morning, looking much perturbed. Fortunately, his friend had been staying with him at the puesto as he so often did, for he told me that during the night not only had about two-thirds of his flock been driven off and could not be found anywhere in the morning, but that the puesto itself had been attacked just after midnight by four men, all apparently fully armed. They had doubtless expected Bent to be alone, but his dog "Bob" was sleeping at the foot of his bed, and woke him up from sleep by his growling, and so gave the alarm. The puesto was a long, narrow building, built mostly of wood, thickly plastered inside and out with mud, the inside being well whitewashed throughout. The roof was thatched with a reed called "paja," much used for the purpose, for it kept the house both warm in winter, and cool in summer, and was an excellent protection against heavy rain. The front door stood close up towards one end of the building, facing West. Inside were two rooms, each with a window facing East, divided by a wall, so as to make a living-room, into which you entered, with a sleeping-room beyond. This latter had also an extra piece built on to it at right angles, so as to give more sleeping accommodation, one of the walls of which overlooked the front door. In the middle of this wall, about four feet from the ground was a small wooden frame about eighteen inches square which had been put in the wall for the purpose of ventilation, and inside this was a moveable shutter which slid easily sideways, secured by a small iron hook to keep it in its place. Both frame and shutter were somewhat discoloured, so they were not easily noticed, appearing more or less the same as the mud wall outside. The moon was almost full, every now and again shaded over by light cloud, which came slowly sailing up from the south, although there was really but little wind. The flock had gone quietly to rest on the large bare open space, where they usually passed the night, perhaps one hundred and fifty yards distant from the front door of the building. Bent had taken a look at them between nine and ten o'clock, before retiring to rest, when they appeared quite still, and everything quiet. It would be about two o'clock in the morning, when "Bob" began to growl in low but savage tones, which awoke Bent and his friend, who soon got into their clothes and had hold of their revolvers, which were always kept loaded. Meanwhile, Bent thought he could hear low voices outside the front door, so with great presence of mind he pushed the table which stood in the middle of the sitting-room up against it, and the chairs also, thus forming a sort of barricade. Leaving his friend to press the table inside against the front door as hard as he could, and also "Bob," who was then barking violently. Bent hurried round to the wooden shutter in his friend's bedroom wall, already mentioned, and drew it quietly back without making any noise. Looking through it he saw four men fully armed trying to force open the front door. He could also see their horses standing saddled near the outside kitchen only a few yards away. He promptly fired full at the nearest man, who forthwith uttered a loud cry, apparently wounded. He then fired two more shots in quick succession, but after the first shot the men made for their horses in great confusion, mounted them, and hurriedly rode away. The two horses which were missing a week ago had not yet turned up, so I sent out the boy to have a good look round among the rocks, and if possible to find them, for I feared lest they had been stolen, which ultimately proved to be the case, for we never saw them again. Leaving the native peon at the house to look after the sheep, I started with Bent to go to the puesto, so that we might try if we could hear anything of all the sheep he told me were missing. His friend appeared glad to see us, for he had received rather a shock, and did not much like, after all that had happened, being there by himself. When we came to count up the sheep we found the number remaining to be barely six hundred some nine hundred having disappeared, which was indeed a heavy loss. Poor Bent seemed very sad about it, and well he might be! We could only conclude that the four men who attacked the puesto must have had accomplices, who drove off the sheep earlier in the night without causing much disturbance, by first turning them off the bare place where the flock was resting across the ground where they were accustomed to feed, before finally driving them off, as they appeared to have done. In so doing the strongest and best sheep would naturally go in front, while those which were weaker and less valuable would be the ones to stay behind. Seeing that four armed men had attacked the puesto, it seemed probable that at least an equal number had carried off the sheep. The fact that there was so much rocky and broken country in the neighbourhood of the estancia, and not very far away, made it all the more difficult to obtain any clue as to the route the thieves might have taken. The ground was hard, and we could find no trace of where the stolen sheep had passed. Having done all we could in this direction, Bent and I separated, each of us riding round to two or three of the neighbours whom we knew, to make them aware of what had happened. Late in the afternoon I called at the pulperia at Guaycoru, hoping I might perhaps hear something there--but all the owner could tell me was he had heard a rumour that Mamerto Gomez, the man I had once spoken to at his house, had been seen three days previously with half a dozen other men entering the rocks, fully armed, from the opposite side, but for what purpose or whether they were in any way connected with the carrying off of the sheep, it was impossible to say! It was easy to surmise they were up to no good, but this was of course merely conjecture, and I completely failed to learn anything which might lead to the recovery of the large number of sheep which were missing. Royd was to come home the next afternoon, and I knew what a blow this would be to him, when he came to hear of his loss. I had "Carnival" tied up that night, and sunrise saw me in the saddle on my way to the puesto, to consult with Bent as to what we could do further, with a view to obtaining some reliable information if possible by the time Royd would return. When I got there Bent had heard nothing, although he had communicated with more than one traveller riding towards the road along which the diligence passed. We arranged the direction in which Bent should search during the day, and I took the opposite one, and made a long round, calling up anywhere I thought it possible I might hear anything. By mid-day, I found myself not very far from the pulperia at Guaycoru, so stopped there, and arranged with the owner to send over a messenger at once to the estancia should he hear anything which would help us. I then rode back to the puesto to consult once more with Bent, who by this time--it was now two o'clock--had returned from his search, without having obtained any information, although he had questioned at least a dozen people since I left him in the morning. It was all very trying and disappointing. There seemed nothing for it but to return to the estancia to meet Royd when he got home, and tell him what had happened. It was nearly four o'clock when I arrived, and about half an hour later Royd turned up, having much enjoyed his little outing. He brought a young English boy, about fifteen, with him, tall for his age, with broad shoulders, and an upright figure. His name was Frank Tryon, but he was generally known as "Francisco." He was an excellent rider, and fond of horses and dogs, especially of the pretty "alazan," or chestnut pony he was riding when he arrived, with its flowing mane and tail, of which it was easy to see he was really very proud. I helped them to unsaddle, and told the cook to get some coffee ready, as they told me they had breakfast as they came along. Royd then sat down in an easy chair and began to smoke. "Well, Royd," I said, "I am very glad to see you back. I have just come down from Bent's puesto. It was attacked by thieves on Thursday night, and two-thirds of the sheep were stolen. Bent and I have searched in every direction both yesterday and to-day, and we can learn nothing whatever about them." "Goodness gracious! that is indeed bad luck," replied Royd, "but I am glad poor Bent got off all right; it must have given him a great shock. I hope his friend was with him so that he would not be alone." I then told him all that had happened, and also what I had heard about Mamerto Gomez and his men having been seen entering the sierras. "It is not unlikely he may be the real cause of it all," said Royd. "I fully expect that fellow had a hand in it, for I believe him to be a regular scoundrel, in spite of his suave manner and grand appearance." Certainly Royd bore his misfortune with more fortitude than I expected, for the loss was indeed a heavy one. The late afternoon was now drawing on, and I sent the native boy to bring up the "tropilla," which happened to be feeding not far away, up into the corral, so that we might collar Francisco's pony to the tropilla mare, and we then let them all out again to feed for the night. After dinner we talked the whole affair over before going to bed, without, however, coming to any conclusion as to what prospect there was of our ever again hearing of the missing sheep. Early on Monday morning, leaving Francisco at the house, who said he would keep an eye on the sheep, Royd and I rode over to the puesto, where Bent had nothing whatever to report. He had managed to interview during Sunday some half dozen horsemen who were riding along within reach of him, but could obtain nothing in the way of information. Royd and I both took a long turn round in opposite directions, each returning to the puesto about three o'clock; but it was all in vain: we could learn nothing which would help us from anybody. We again held a consultation, and Royd determined that for the present Bent should stay on at the puesto and have his friend with him, maintaining as strict a watch as possible over the sheep which remained. Later, if we failed to hear anything of the ones that had been stolen, the only thing to do would be for Bent to come down with his sheep to the estancia, and join them on to those which were there. As by leaving the puesto he would not only be safer and more secure himself, but he could then look after all the sheep remaining on the estancia by keeping them together in one flock. The autumn of the Southern year was now well advanced, and there was still plenty of grass within reasonable reach of the estancia house--but meanwhile we only thought of this plan as being one suitable for the near future. Royd and I then rode home, having had a fairly long day. Everything seemed quiet as we followed along the narrow track which wound itself like a snake among the big masses of grey rock. Suddenly Napoleon, who was with us, started off as if in pursuit of something, and I took out my revolver and followed him up. Reaching an open space quite hidden from the track, I came upon the remains of a young cow, the best joints of the meat having evidently been cut up and taken away with the hide on them, while the animal was still warm; indeed, it was plain the cow had only been recently killed. I called to Royd who was only a little way behind me to come and look. It certainly looked as if thieves were not very far off, and in view of recent events it did not tend to make either of us feel very comfortable. Probably one of the grey foxes often to be seen as evening approached had been visiting the remains, and Napoleon had caught scent of it, which attracted his attention. When we got home we found Francisco quite happy, and he and I took a turn round and brought up the riding horses, shutting them up for the night in the stone "manga," instead of leaving them out to feed as usual. We also saw to our guns and ammunition. All this gave us food for reflection, and we sat up talking and smoking until quite late. Towards the end of the week we made up our minds to have another gathering together of the cattle. Francisco looked forward to this with much pleasure, as he was anxious to see how his chestnut would acquit himself among the rocks, which were quite new to him. We tied up horses over night, and were on the move just after dawn. It was a beautiful morning, the sun rose in a clear sky, the herald of a fine day. I and the native peon went together to quite the far end of the camp. Royd and Francisco taking a position a little nearer home The cattle appeared to be coming up well, nor did any so far as we knew succeed in breaking back. When, however, we got them up to the rodeo and made a count, at least two hundred and fifty animals seemed missing. The native peon and boy with the aid of Francisco, kept them there, not allowing them to go back to their feeding ground until twelve o'clock. Meanwhile, Royd and I went back over the ground again to try and discover if any, and if so how many, might have escaped us. However, we failed to find them in any direction. That being so the only conclusion we could come to was that a large number of the herd, certainly more than two hundred had disappeared, and in all probability been stolen. This was by no means a pleasant conclusion. Poor Royd was very depressed, and as we sat by the fire that evening, turned to me and said, "If this sort of thing goes on it will be about time for me to clear out." I tried to comfort him as well as I could, although I did not feel at all happy in my own mind; far from it. "Suppose we have another gathering up in a week's time, we can see what happens then," I said. Meanwhile I will be about on horseback as much as I can among the rocks, and I will see if I can find a clue to the mystery. "Thank you!" replied Royd, "we will wait and see if more of them come up to the rodeo in a week's time." But before the day came I could see the matter was constantly weighing on his mind, nor did I at all wonder, and I really felt very sorry for him. Next morning we were up betimes, and all went to the corral to catch up horses for the day. There was a very pretty "dorodilla," or bay filly in the tropilla, with a black mane and tail, about two years old. This Royd proposed to give as a present to Francisco, as he said it would make a nice companion for his chestnut. This pleased him greatly, and he soon began to talk of catching it up and leading it about with a halter and rein if only it was sufficiently tame to allow this to be done. The following days I spent among the sierras, and I could not disguise from myself that the various groups of cattle when I saw them feeding, and I recollected what they used to look like seemed certainly smaller; indeed, several animals I knew and therefore quite expected to see I never managed to see at all. All seemed quiet, however, nor did they show any evidence of having been recently disturbed. I was riding home on Friday evening later than usual for it was close upon sunset, when I thought I heard voices. I immediately stopped and listened carefully. A light breeze rustling from where the sound came seemed to bring it nearer, and I judged it could not be more than one hundred and fifty yards distant. There happened to be an open space close to where I was, some twenty paces long by ten wide. It had a narrow entrance, and was quite surrounded and shut in by the high rocks. I knew well where it was, having been there before. So I dismounted and led my horse through this narrow entrance into the open space, where he was completely hidden from view, and hobbled him and tied him up. I then came out, and carefully concealing myself, stole along on foot in the direction from which I had heard the voices. I easily obtained sufficient cover, and had not advanced at all far when I saw four men, all armed, about sixty paces from me. One of them was Mamerto Gomez, the man I had seen at the pulperia; I recognised him at once, and he seemed to be directing the others, as if they were arranging some plan or other. I listened attentively, hoping I might perhaps hear some mention of the stolen sheep, but what with the subdued tone in which they conversed and the fact that I did not know much Spanish, I failed to make out what they were saying. Their horses stood saddled near them, and I noticed they wore the red device round their black felt hats. I remained perfectly still for quite ten minutes, well sheltered from their view by a large piece of rock, where I could see but could not be seen. At the end of that time they suddenly mounted their horses and rode away in the opposite direction to where I was hid, and I must allow I did not feel very sorry to see them depart. I then went back to my horse, and at once rode home. Royd also had just returned, and was unsaddling near the front door. He had been round to ask three or four of our neighbours to help us to gather up our cattle on the Monday morning following. He thought, perhaps, if we had more horsemen we might make a more successful "para rodeo" than we had done before. I told him my little adventure, and what I had seen, and he shook his head. "That fellow Mamerto is at the bottom of all this trouble, I do believe," he said, "and I do wish you had been able to hear distinctly what those thieves were planning and talking about." Only the first sign of dawn was appearing on Monday morning when we saddled up our horses and rode silently in among the grey rocks. Francisco did not go with us, but he joined us later at the rodeo. I had the furthest to go, quite to the end of the estancia, near Guaycoru. Bent came from his side, and four of our neighbours each fell into line at the place appointed. So this time we mustered a fairly strong force, and none of the cattle had any chance of breaking back. But by the time we had got them outside the sierras, and even before I could see them gathered together at close quarters, I felt sure in my own mind that quite a third of the herd was missing. Thanks to our neighbours' assistance we were able to make a correct count, and this we did twice over, so as to be sure we were correct. There were only four hundred and sixty-five animals, not counting a dozen very small calves, whereas there ought to have been over seven hundred at least. Anyway, making every possible allowance, there were certainly more than two hundred missing; not far different from what we had made them out to be ten days ago. There was no accounting in any way where the missing animals could be, so we had to accept the inevitable and conclude they must have been driven off, probably during the night, and stolen. They seemed just to have vanished in the same way as did the sheep. One misfortune so quickly following the other caused Royd to feel his loss very acutely, and it naturally made him despondent and down-hearted. I tried my best to cheer him up, but with little success. One day we succeeded in running the troop of mares and colts up into the stone enclosure. They were swift of foot, knew every turn and twist of the rocks, and so long as they kept inside the sierras it was difficult for anyone to get hold of them. When once in the corral it was a different matter. A chestnut colt, with a white star on his forehead, smaller and younger than "Carnival" was easily lassoed, and afterwards tied up to a post, from which to no purpose he made strenuous efforts to get loose. He had to remain where he was during the night, and next morning we collared him to a tame mare, so that he could easily be got hold of when wanted. A couple of mornings later, when the riding horses were brought up to the corral, Francisco's bay filly was missing, and, after a long search, was found, minus its skin, which was but of small value. Why it had been killed was a mystery, until some time afterwards it became known that a near neighbour was making a set of horse-gear of raw cowhide and mares hide; and as this set was a very particular one it required all the hide to be of the same colour. So the maker, having run out of mare's hide, searched round in the neighbourhood until he found an animal to suit him, which happened to be Francisco's filly. The latter was greatly distressed by his potrilla coming to so premature an end, but there it lay dead, so there was nothing more to be done. This shews the small amount of respect there was for property in those days in the country districts of the Republic. Immediately following this little event, Colonel Pinto Mallada who held an important position in the Department, arrived with two hundred and fifty soldiers and encamped near the estancia for a couple of days. He sent his adjutant up to say he would require a supply of meat for his men to eat, but that orders had been given them not to take any horses. Consequently, those we wanted to save were brought up to feed within easy distance of the house, as Mallada's orders were generally obeyed. Francisco happened to be left alone at the estancia with Pedro the cook, and when he went out to see if the horses were all right, he noticed that his chestnut pony was missing. So he went down on an old brown horse he was riding to the Colonel's tent, situate under a tree, but he was not allowed to see him, as he was taking his "siesta." However, his sergeant, whom he interviewed, said he was to come later. The Colonel, who was a stern half Indian, was much feared; he spoke little, and had but little mercy for his enemies. So Francisco returned to the house and went down again to see him later on. He found him sitting sucking "matè," while the sergeant stood beside him combing carefully for him his long hair, which hung down almost to his shoulders. Francisco told the Colonel his pony had gone, whereupon the latter directed his sergeant to take him round the encampment, as the soldiers were scattered in different places in lots of eight or ten together. No pony could be found, so Francisco and the sergeant returned to see the Colonel, who then said if the pony was not in the encampment some men he had sent away must have taken it, but that Francisco need not fear, as he should have his pony back again. Thereupon Francisco once again returned to the house very sorry not to have found his pony--but still hoping for the best. Sure enough in three days a soldier rode up with the chestnut pony, apparently none the worse for his enforced absence. This shews the Colonel had a certain kind of feeling about him, although at the same time he had little regard for the lives of those who happened to oppose his wishes. I believe in the end, a long time afterwards, he was shot in Rosario, during some political trouble. Early in the next week I rode over to what was known as the "Swiss Colony," some fourteen miles distant from us in more or less a Southerly direction. There was a pulperia there where the diligence which came out from Monte Video stopped, and often brought us letters--which usually came to hand sooner or later, as opportunity offered. However, just now Royd was expecting some, and as a few small purchases were also required I saddled up poor Henriquez's chestnut, and taking a pair of saddle-bags with me, made a start. He was a good little horse, the morning was bright and fine, and I enjoyed my ride as I galloped along over the rolling country in front of me. I just pulled up at Saballa's pulperia as I passed to hear if there was any news. But everything was quiet, and no soldiers seemed to be about. Just about a mile distant from the pass over the river Rosario, leading to the Swiss Colony, I overtook Mr. Frederick Dampier, owner of the Estancia del Pichinango. He also was on his way to Quincke's pulperia, so we rode on together. He asked me a good deal about Royd, and how he was getting on, etc, and he looked very serious when I related to him all that had happened. "I doubt if you will ever see either those sheep or cattle again," he said. "I expect there is a regular gang of thieves located inside the sierras, with Mamerto Gomez as their leader." "I hope they won't take it into their heads to come our way; it would not be the first time such a thing has happened; although, fortunately, there is no secure hiding place for them in the day-time here, like there is inside the sierras." When we got to the pulperia I found three letters, two for Royd and one for me. I soon completed my small purchases, and half an hour later was ready to start on my return journey. Mr. Dampier was also returning by the same way we had come, so we rode on together. When we had got through the pass, he turned to me and said, "I wonder if you would care to go and take charge up at the Cerro. It is where my partner lived before he returned to England, a little more than a year ago. You might find yourself fairly comfortable there; anyway, you would have plenty of room, and you could assist me in the management of the estancia." This proposal certainly took me somewhat by surprise, for I had only been about nine months in the country, but I thanked him, and said I would see what Royd thought about it when I got back, and let him know without unnecessary delay. We then parted company, just about in the same place where we had met in the morning. The chestnut was going well, the sun, now past the meridian, was shining brightly, the air was fresh and cool, and my ride was a pleasant one. I thought a good deal as I rode along about what Mr. Dampier had said to me, and the more I thought of it the better I liked the idea of what he had proposed. The only difficulty was that if Royd was going to have continued trouble at the rocks, I did not wish to leave him, as it were, in the lurch. Now that the war had definitely broken out, it seemed to me that if I went to the "Cerro," it would certainly be an experience, and there would probably prove to be a fair amount of excitement as well. It was just after two o'clock when I reached the estancia. Royd had ridden out, and did not return until towards sunset. I unsaddled the chestnut and let him go. He at once trotted off to find his friends and enjoy a quiet feed. He knew they would not be very far away. Meanwhile Pedro got me some food and coffee, and I sat down and read my letter, which had come from England, over again, and smoked a quiet pipe. When Royd returned I handed him his letters and showed him my purchases, which he found satisfactory. He had been out among the sierras, and had taken a turn round to see a native neighbour, where doubtless he had discussed the situation, and why so many cattle were missing when we got them up to the rodeo. Perhaps his native friend had given him comfort, for he seemed in better spirits than usual. I said nothing to him until we had finished dinner and were sitting smoking by the fire in the dining room; for winter was coming on, and the evenings began to be chilly. Then I told him how I had met Mr. Dampier, and what he had said to me. He looked up rather amused. "I think if I were you I should go," he said. "Mr. Dampier is an exceedingly nice man, and I feel sure you will get on very well with him; and you will be sure to gain a lot of experience at a large estancia like the Pichinango." "But what about the trouble in the rocks," I replied. "I should not like to leave you without seeing you through; that is if I can be of any help to you." "Well," said Royd, "I have been thinking things over this afternoon. I can bring Bent and the remaining sheep down, and join them on to the flock we already have here. He can then look after them all together. Curiously enough, one of the letters you brought me is from my friends, with whom I stayed the other day, who have their estancia on this side of San Josè. They propose, if things get worse over here, I should take what cattle and sheep I may have to their camp, and join up with them. They have more land, you know, than they really want, and it could carry comfortably more stock than I am likely to have remaining here. At any rate, the idea seems worth considering, for if this war continues, it might perhaps turn out to be the best thing to do." "Well," I said, "we will sleep over it all, and then if you are still in the same mind I will see about accepting Mr. Dampier's offer." Next morning, we had just finished our coffee and were walking down to the corral to catch our horses as usual. "Well, Royd, what do you think about it this morning?" I said. "Are you still of the same opinion about my going to the 'Cerro'?" "Yes, I am," he said. "I think it would be a great pity for you to refuse the offer. I have got some letters to write, and as the diligence will be passing Quincke's in a couple of days on its way back to San Josè, I will send the native peon over with them early to-morrow morning. I will finish the letters first, and then you and I can ride over to the puesto and see Bent." "That being so," I replied, "I think I cannot do better than write a letter to Mr. Dampier, accepting his proposal, and tell him I will go over to the 'Cerro' on Wednesday in next week. The peon could leave my letter at Mr. Dampier's house as he passes by." "So be it," said Royd, "and I sincerely wish you all luck and prosperity in the new departure." So I wrote my letter while I was waiting for Royd, thanking Mr. Dampier for what he had said to me, accepting his offer, and saying I would go over to the "Cerro" on Wednesday morning in the following week. All appeared quiet as Royd and I rode among the rocks to the puesto. Here and there we passed a few cattle, a silver fox we disturbed ran in front of us for a hundred yards or so, and then dodged round the corner of a rock, where he probably had his lair. We noticed the smell of a skunk a little further along. He, too, had been out and about for his morning exercise. Silence reigned everywhere, broken only by the shrill cry of the "pteru-pteru," or plover, a cry we were so accustomed to hear that we hardly noticed it. When we arrived we found Bent all right, having just come to his house to see about some breakfast. The sheep were quietly feeding a little distance away. There was no news. He had heard nothing; nor had he seen anyone just lately. His friend had gone away for a few hours to see a native he knew up towards Guaycoru. Royd told Bent he thought he had better come down with the sheep to the estancia, leaving the puesto for the time being unoccupied. This seemed to please him rather than otherwise, and it was settled he should come down with his belongings on the following Monday, and Royd promised to send up the native peon to help him to drive the sheep. Anything he had to leave behind could remain in the house, which he could lock up, bringing the key away with him, and whatever there was could be sent for later. I also told Bent about Mr. Dampier's offer to me, at which he seemed somewhat amused, although his good manners prevented him saying all that was perhaps passing through his mind. Royd and I then rode round by the pulperia at Guaycoru to see if by chance we could hear anything which might afford us a clue as to what had become of our missing cattle; or indeed, of the stolen sheep. Early next morning the native peon rode off with Royd's letters for the Swiss Colony, and I gave him mine to deliver at Mr. Dampier's house as he passed. On the Monday following he and Francisco made an early start to go and help to bring down the sheep from the puesto. The latter rode his chestnut pony and hoped to enjoy the ride. The sheep travelled down well. Bent brought his two horses with him, riding one and leading the other as a pack-horse with his things. "Bob," of course, followed, greatly interested, behind the sheep; indeed, he seemed to enjoy the excitement of making the move. "Napoleon" gave him an affectionate welcome, for they had always been friends. On the Tuesday I put together my things. Royd kindly said he would send the native peon with me, who could lead the extra horse which was to carry them, and then bring him back afterwards. Anything I could not take was put into a big box, which was to be sent to Saballa's pulperia by the first cart which might pass, whence I could easily get it brought on to the "Cerro." I took my Colts revolver and all my cartridges with me, also my "Service" rifle, which I had given to me just as I was leaving England, and I found I could pack all I was likely to need for the present quite easily in two large bundles, which could be fixed on either side of the "recado," on the led horse. The peon took a large pair of saddle-bags for me on the horse he rode, and I had a smaller pair on mine. Wednesday morning, June 15th, proved fine, the sun shining in a clear sky. So I bid adieu to Royd and Bent and Francisco, and with many good wishes from them all, mounted "Carnival," accompanied by Napoleon, and duly followed the native peon who, with the pack-horse behind him, had already made a start. And so I bid adieu not without regret to "Las Sierras de Mal Abrigo," for I had been very happy there, and as I passed along my way it seemed to me, at any rate for the time being, a step into the great unknown. When we arrived at the "Cerro del Pichinango" I was received by an Englishman called Robinson, who acted as cook and general caretaker inside the house. He soon got me some food and coffee ready, and he also found something to eat for the man who had come with me. There were three peones, or out-door servants about; an uncle, and two of his nephews. They were natives of Uruguay, but by parentage were Indians of the Pampas, which also showed very clearly in their countenances. I wrote a message to Royd on a piece of paper, which I gave to the peon for him, just to say I had arrived all right. Meantime I had unsaddled "Carnival," and tied him up in a grass-covered court or enclosure, surrounded by a high stone wall, where there were also several trees and two large iron gates at the bottom, which were usually kept locked. The house itself certainly looked imposing. It was built the whole width of the upper end of the court, and was divided into two parts by a high stone archway, the front of which stood level with the court, while the back led direct into the large "galpon," or wool-shed, which was joined to the house its full length behind, with two large openings on its outer side, closed by wide wooden doors, both ends being quite shut in. The house had nine rooms, large and small; four on one side of the open archway, which was shut off from the galpon by a door in the centre, and five on the other. Each had a large window overlooking the court, protected outside by thick iron bars. First came the kitchen, with a door leading direct into the open, and a bedroom above, for the cook; then, the dining room, with two large windows opening on the court; next, a small room, with a little iron stove called the gun-room, and next again a bedroom; each having a window looking on the court. This bedroom had also a door opening into the stone archway. On the other side of this were five rooms, all leading one into another; but the fourth had a door opening on the court; while the fifth room was called the visitors' room, and had a large high window in the middle of the end of the house, which gave abundance of light, although it, too, was heavily barred. This room was comfortably furnished, while from the others on this side of the archway the furniture had been mostly removed, one of them being at this time used as a storeroom. The whole house was an "azotea," having one long flat roof throughout, all round which was a low battlemented parapet with open spaces, between where you could place firearms for self-defence in the event of a siege or an attack from outside. Out of the dining room was an inside passage and ladder leading to the roof, which was removable, having a small shelter or covering built over it at the top. The roof itself was carefully tiled and cemented, collecting all the rain-water which fell upon it, and carrying it through pipes into the large Alhibi, or reservoir, carefully tiled, which stood in the middle of the court. Here the water remained quite cool in summer, an ample supply being collected during the rainy weather, sufficient to last the whole year. There were no wells or springs, for the house stood high on an eminence overlooking the surrounding country, the ground all round being of a rocky nature, the surface soil in places having scarcely any depth at all; indeed, nowhere near the house was it at all suitable for either crops or cultivation. During the afternoon I had one of the tropillas of horses brought up into the corral, and we collared "Carnival" to a nice little grey mare, so that he could go out to feed with the other horses. But he could not escape back again to the rocks, as he certainly would have done had he been left loose. The mare, however, seemed very considerate and good to him, and he afterwards became quite fond of her. Napoleon, too, seemed to settle down easily into his new surroundings, and it was not long before he obtained control over the three or four mongrels who barked at him on his arrival. I took a little walk round the establishment during the afternoon, and had a look over a small flock of "southdowns" which fed near the house, and were shut up into their sheep yard at night, surrounded by a stone wall. They were now feeding with their faces towards home, and were generally looked after by one of the Indian boys. As I walked along through the long grass, a brace of partridges got up close to me, and flew away straight in front of me. Had I taken a gun with me they would have been an easy shot. Behind the "Cerro" the country seemed to roll away into distance, like the waves of the sea, so characteristic of the Pampas of South America. As I returned I climbed up to the top of the group of rocks just behind the house itself, enclosed by a stone wall not by any means in good condition. From there the country on one side appeared rocky and broken, with a valley running down at right angles, where apparently stone had been got out of a kind of quarry, near which I could see two or three stone erections, which might be either huts or temporary shelters. Far in the distance were woods which seemed to border a river. This I found to be the river Pichinango, which was the boundary of the estate on that side. I had some dinner at sundown, and then enjoyed a quiet pipe, and thought over the events of the day. Later, I fixed up my things in the bedroom joining the archway, in the corner of which latter I placed an old wool-bag I found lying about, for Napoleon to sleep on, and I too went to bed, asking the cook to be sure and call me in good time in the morning. I slept soundly, and the air felt fresh and keen when I went out into the courtyard not long after sunrise, where I was affectionately greeted by Napoleon, who seemed very pleased to see me again. The Indians were already sitting round their fire in the galpon, sucking Matè, and Robinson was busy in his kitchen, preparing the early coffee. The first thing I did was to have the horses belonging to the "Cerro" brought up into the corral, so that I might look them over. They were a mixed lot, some seventy in all, and varied greatly in colour and appearance. But this was only to be expected, and there were some useful horses among them. A little before eleven, Don Frederico Dampier rode up from his house, "La Concordia," situate at the other end of the estancia. I saw him coming so went out a little way to meet him. His well-knit but spare figure looked remarkably well on horseback. We first took a turn outside, and Don Frederico pointed out certain things which needed attention. We then went inside, and he gave me the keys of two large cupboards which contained linen and household necessaries. He also gave me a book called the "log-book," in which I was to write down anything which happened, and also the work which was done each day, as it passed. By this time, Robinson had got ready some breakfast for us, after which we mounted our horses and rode round a troop of cattle called the "tamberos," or tame animals; supposed to come up to their "rodeo" every day before sundown. However, as a matter of fact, they were quite as wild as the larger herd, and it was some little time before I got them well under control. We then went on to two of the puestos, each in charge of a puestero, or shepherd, who looked after his flock of something under three thousand sheep. The first puesto we came to was in charge of a "basco" named Laborde, who had emigrated, while yet young, to Uruguay, from the Spanish shores of the Bay of Biscay. He was a fresh-coloured, good-tempered looking man, still in middle life, and he seemed cheerful and comfortable with his wife and three children round him. He gave us many particulars about his flock; how they were getting on, etc. He had been with them most of the morning; had just ridden home to get something to eat, and was going out to give them a turn towards home a little later on. He said he had not been troubled by soldiers, although he had noticed small detachments passing towards the Sierras, but they had not come near either the flock or his puesto. We then rode on to the second, kept also by a basco, called Martin, the number of sheep being more or less the same as the one previously visited. Martin was a fine, robust, good-looking man, in the prime of life; very alert and intelligent, and apparently well-versed in the ways of estancia life. We passed alongside his flock as they were quietly feeding; and we looked over three large points of cattle, and also some mares and colts as I accompanied Don Frederico a little further on his way home. I then bid him farewell and rode back direct to the Cerro, and with one of the Indians got the tamberos, before-mentioned, up to their rodeo in the afternoon, keeping them there about three-quarters of an hour as a matter of discipline, and then as the sun fell towards the horizon on the late autumn afternoon the little flock of Southdown sheep drew towards home, to be shut in their sheepyard for the night. So I took the opportunity of looking them carefully over, and making a correct count of them; they were just over three hundred, so that I might the more easily become aware, if by ill-luck any should be missing. The old cook, Robinson, had gone through some exciting experiences in his earlier life. When little more than a boy he sailed for the Southern seas in one of "Green's" whaling ships, fitted out for a three years' cruise beyond Cape Horn, in pursuit of the sperm whale. This was then a very profitable occupation. From captain to cabin-boy, everyone had a share in the results of the voyage, and when the good ship returned, fully loaded with her valuable cargo of sperm oil, she had a great welcome from her owner, who often went down to greet her arrival in Plymouth Sound. Eventually he rose to be a first-class hand aboard; indeed, it was his office to throw the harpoon, as he stood upright in the bow of the boat, into the whale, an act requiring not only courage, but also great judgment and skill. It was only upon rare occasions that the old man could be induced to talk of his sea-faring days. A kind of gloom always seemed to lie behind them all, and it was but by a mere chance that I happened later to find out what it meant. Like so many of the sea-faring class with him drink was the trouble, and after a bout of it he would sometimes fall into a kind of delirium, talking incessantly to himself, yet hardly aware of what he was saying. It seems he had been wrecked on the northern coast of New Zealand in the days of long ago, and there he had lived with a Maori tribe, and had wedded a Maori spouse. Then came a war with a neighbouring tribe, who proved victorious, and he saw his wife tomahawked before his eyes, while he himself was unable to render her any assistance. Following this, he fled into the bush, where he subsisted on fern-root, and anything else he could obtain, until by great good fortune he managed to signal and attract the attention of a passing vessel, who lowered a boat and took him off. He then worked his way back to England, and afterwards went out to the Falkland Islands Company, at Port Stanley. Finally, he came over to Uruguay, drifted to the "Cerro del Pichinango" during the war of "Oribé," where he had remained ever since. So long as all went well, he was attentive to duty inside the house; clean and tidy in preparing the meals; indeed, never happier than when fully employed with his scrubbing brush and an ample supply of soap and water. One of his great pleasures was to hoist the Union Jack on the small standard on the top of the azotea on feast-days and holidays, when he would again lower it at sunset, the same as he would have done on board ship. His failing compelled me to keep all Caña, or white rum, under lock and key, although I was instructed to deal him out his daily allowance twice during the day; when the sun got over the fore-yard, as he was wont to express it, and at sundown. Outside he chiefly employed himself in chopping and splitting up wood for the stove in the kitchen, with his two axes, of which he took great care, and of which he was apparently very proud. We happened to have a spell of fine weather during the first few days after I arrived at the "Cerro," so I was enabled to see things generally better than I could otherwise have done. PART II. EL CERRO DEL PICHINANGO. The Cerro del Pichinango comprised something over sixteen thousand acres, on which fed twenty thousand sheep, two thousand head of cattle, and three hundred and fifty horses. The sheep were divided into seven flocks, not counting a small flock of Southdowns at the Cerro. Each flock had its own area of camp, over which to feed, and was located at its own "puesto," where its "puestero," or shepherd, lived and looked after it. The cattle grazed at will all over the estate, which was quite open, without fences of any kind, here and there, in large groups, and often in small points of twenty or thirty animals. There was good pasturage, and abundant water. The river Rosario, which bordered the estate on the West, did not run in a straight line, but curved in its course, while at the South-West corner it took a much larger curve, forming almost a semi-circle, and here the woods were wider than hitherto. All this gave the scenery quite a park-like aspect, which was very attractive. On the Southern side the river Pichinango did the same, the woods which bordered its banks being even more beautiful, hung with creepers and flowering plants, the river winding peacefully in between. Here, too, fish could be caught, and the carpincho, or water-pig, was able to enjoy himself undisturbed to his heart's content. Moreover, a considerable stream called the Cañada Grande, passed right through the centre of the estate, running for the most part clean and pure over a stony and rocky bed. La Concordia, where Mr. Dampier lived with his family, was situate at the opposite end of the estancia to the Cerro. The house stood on elevated ground overlooking the river Rosario, and its woods on the west, while towards the south it commanded a distant view of the Swiss Colony, with its red-roofed houses and patches of arable land between. On the right were the wide and beautiful woods which bordered the banks of the river Pichinango, where it joined the Rosario, at which juncture of the two rivers a broad rincon, or corner, was in itself quite a feature of the landscape. To the left the grass-covered plain, with here and there a large bed of tall thistles, rolled away for some four miles to the northern boundary of the estancia. The house was modern and comfortable: built on three sides of an open "patio," or court, which you entered through iron gates, and the drawing room spacious and airy, with its three large windows coming down to the ground, occupied the whole length of the house at the back. On the left and in front was the flower garden, divided by a carriage drive, which led out past a lodge to the open camp. The "peones'," or servants' quarters lay to the right, forming a square, in the centre of which was a large "euremada," or shed, with four open sides, used for tying up horses under and for the "peones" to seek shelter from the sun during the "siesta." Further away was the "corral," or yard, in which to shut up horses, and beyond again were the sheepyards. There was also a considerable area of cultivated land, where maize, and potatoes, and "alfalfa," a species of clover, flourished, as did a large quantity of fruit trees, planted all round an open space, used for the production of vegetables. Winter had now come, and the weather had become stormy, with cold nights and cold winds from the South. I was out in the camp pretty continually, nevertheless, visiting the various puestos, and turning inwards the cattle, especially on our northern boundary. When fine enough I had the Indians at work mending up the walls of the sheepyards, which were made of loose stones piled one upon another. These had been greatly neglected at the "Cerro" and needed building up and repairing, as many gaps were to be seen. Three of the gates, too, required attention. After a week, however, the weather improved, so a "para rodeo" of the cattle was arranged for the next day but one, which was a Saturday. We had our horses tied up the night before, and were all ready for a start just before sunrise, Don Frederico and his party coming up from La Concordia just about the same time. The rodeo, or meeting-place for the cattle, was situate in a direct line between the Cerro and La Concordia, about half a mile distant from the former. It had the usual big post planted in the centre, round which the cattle revolved, and the ground all round was quite bare of herbage, evidently well trodden by numerous animals. We had help from three of the puesteros, especially from one named Marmasola, who not only came himself, but brought three boys with him, all well mounted. Laborde and Martin arrived from their own side, accompanied by two or three dogs. I was riding "Carnival," who had now settled down at the "Cerro," having attached himself to the little grey mare with one eye, to which he had been collared on his first arrival. "Napoleon" was in great spirits, paying no attention whatever to the couple of mongrel terriers who followed behind him. He was quite aware that serious business was on foot. I got over with the Indians to the north-western corner of the estancia, and we spread ourselves out, driving the cattle before us. Some of them seemed inclined to break back. This was easily prevented, and I found it much easier to do this here, where it was all open camp, than it had been at the Sierras de Mal Abrigo, when hindered and surrounded by large masses of rock. Don Frederico came up from his side with a good deal of help; so altogether we made a very satisfactory "para rodeo." I had no experience of dealing with cattle in such large numbers, nor was I surprised to find that care was needed to keep them all together on the "rodeo," when we got them there. I felt pretty sure, however, that by bringing them up constantly, and always keeping them up some time when collected, we should soon get the herd under complete control. Don Frederico brought with him a Mr. John Jennings, who was living with him at La Concordia. He was a good Spanish scholar, and an excellent accountant, fond of gardening, and was much occupied at the time with the cultivated land there, to which I have before alluded. His figure was decidedly burly; he had a good-natured face and thin legs. He did not look well on horseback, as he appeared too heavy above the saddle, nor was he really much of a rider. Upon this occasion he bestrode a very dark grey, somewhat low in condition, and not apparently up to his weight. They both came up to the Cerro for breakfast: some mutton stewed with rice, hot coffee and camp biscuits; all very acceptable after the morning's gallop. I let go "Carnival," and had a little bay horse, with a white blaze and two white stockings caught up, and when they returned I rode with them as far as La Concordia. Here I stopped for awhile, and then rode over into the Swiss Colony to arrange some business which had to be attended to; nor did I get back to the "Cerro" until about an hour before sunset. Curiously enough, since my first arrival, but little seemed to have happened in regard to the war. Every now and again a party of Blanco soldiers would ride up, have some food, and go on their way. They did not take our horses, for these were as yet plentiful, and probably they had better ones of their own. The Colorados had not come our way at all, being mostly concentrated near Monte Video, the capital, while a fairly large force were also encamped in the province of San Josè. Meanwhile the Blanco army was said to be in great strength out beyond Paysandû, waiting for finer weather, and until the horses should pick up after the somewhat early winter. Spring, when it came, advanced rapidly. The days soon seemed longer and the weather warmer. We had a good deal of sheep-working on hand, as the flocks came up from the "puestos" to the Cerro, to be passed through the sheepyards, when it was our custom to get through one flock in a day. Don Frederico generally rode up to see how the work progressed, bringing two or three "peones" from La Concordia, as this winter there was a certain amount of foot-rot among the sheep, which needed attention. Fortunately, however, this was never really bad at the Pichinango, as a great part of the camp lay high, and therefore dry, covered with a hard kind of grass, which grew profusely between the longer tussock-grass. The flocks near La Concordia, however, fed on lower ground, but they were passed through the sheepyards there, when I went down from the Cerro, taking two of the Indians with me to assist. And so the days passed on one much like another, until the sun began to shine longer, and the weather to get warmer when at length we began to realise that summer was not far off. Some four weeks passed without anything particular happening, and then came the branding of the calves, always an event of supreme importance on a large South American estancia. First there was a general "para rodeo" of the cattle, and then they had to be shut up in the large stone enclosure, or "manga." Our native neighbours had to be advised beforehand of the appointed day, so that they might be present to see if any of their animals were by chance mixed up with our herd. I also obtained the services of three or four natives in the neighbourhood, known to be good camp men, _i.e._, skilled in the management of cattle, and especially so at this particular work. When the appointed day came round, it proved fine and fortunately there was but little wind. We all made an early start from both ends of the estancia, and were well on our way when the sun rose in a blue sky. Having plenty of horsemen, the cattle came up particularly well to the rodeo, where we kept them revolving round for quite half an hour, and then by driving a point of tame cattle in front of them, we managed to get the entire herd inside the "manga" without much difficulty. They did not quite like the operation; odd animals would try to break away, but they were quickly brought back, and they looked to me a very large number, when once inside the stone enclosure; far larger than I had ever seen shut up together before. Meanwhile two big fires had been lighted to heat the brands, and all being ready, two natives entered the "manga" on horseback with their lassoes, and one by one caught and easily brought out the calves. And so the work progressed, until quite a large number of calves had already been marked. Then came the time for breakfast. A young cow was lassoed and killed, its hide quickly taken off, and the meat cut up into large joints, and placed before the fires to roast. Biscuits were handed out, also farinha, a kind of coarsely-ground flour, grown from a plant in Brazil. The neighbours appeared, each mounted on his best horse, with such silver on their reins and headstalls, bits, stirrups, or "recados," as they happened to possess. They mostly wore a gay-coloured summer "poncho," a broad-brimmed felt hat, black bombachos, or very loose trousers, tucked into long boots, often ornamented with heavy silver spurs, so that the whole scene looked quite picturesque. After breakfast there was a short pause, and then the work went on, and it was between three and four o'clock in the afternoon before all the calves were branded. The herd was now let go, and quickly dispersed, doubtless, very glad to be once more free--now that their knocking about was at length over. And then as evening drew on young women made their appearance, riding up on horseback, dressed in their best clothes, and a couple of musicians turned up anxious to have a meal and to earn a few coppers. Music was heard on every side, and it was not long before a dance on quite a large scale was in progress, and apparently greatly enjoyed. Meanwhile the moon rose and shed its silver light upon the scene. The evening was fine and warm, and it was after eight o'clock before the company dispersed. I watched the scene from the flat roof of the Cerro with much interest and amusement, for it was all quite new to me. However, before half-past nine o'clock all was quiet, the Indians in the galpon had already gone to sleep. I heard old Robinson snoring loudly in his room above the kitchen, so I locked up the doors and retired to my bedroom with the feeling that all had gone off well; indeed, to me it seemed to have been nothing less than quite an exciting and altogether satisfactory day. Early in November shearing began, which, on an estancia, is the big business of the year. It took place at the Cerro in the large "galpon," and suddenly, as it were, the old place began to assume an air of importance and activity. Old Robinson, who managed the wooden wool-press during shearing, and for the time being abandoned the culinary art, started to get all ready, another cook taking his place. Mr. John Jennings, usually known as Don Juan, came up to take charge inside the woolshed, being a man of knowledge and experience, while I superintended the work outside, such as getting up the sheep so that there were always sufficient ready waiting to keep the shearers going. The afternoon before shearing was to begin a gang of fifteen shearers arrived on horseback. They were rather a rough-looking lot, indifferently mounted. I had half a dozen of their horses collared, and the others, which were poor, and in bad condition, were turned out to feed with them. These shearers were supplemented by other natives in our neighbourhood, and by those of our own people who knew how to shear, so that quite a good number were ready to commence the important work. A number of sheep were brought into the yards, and passed up into the small pens, which ran along outside the galpon, facing the two wide wooden doors. Two men were ready, waiting to catch the sheep: tie their legs and lay them on the floor, ready for the shearers. To each shearer, as he finished his sheep a little tin token called a "lata" was given, these being counted, and entered up in a book in his name at the end of the day and week. Most of the payment in money being made at the end of the time. As the wool was shorn it was gathered up and carried to two large wooden tables, where it was roughly classified according to quality. It was then put into long bags, made of a thin open canvas material, which were pressed in the wooden wool-press before being packed into the carts, which carried them away. The shearers had all to be fed with their proper allowance of rations, a matter requiring care and attention, and sheep had to be slaughtered each morning, and every now and again a fat cow, as they managed to consume quite a large amount of meat. Don Juan was very good-natured and pleasant to do with. He thoroughly understood how the work should be carried on, and how best to control shearers, and as I was glad to assist him in my spare time, I was able to gain a good deal of useful experience which might not otherwise have come my way. Shearing could only go on during fine weather; after rain the sheep had to get quite dry again before they could be shorn. When this happened, as also in the evenings, Don Juan would instruct me in book-keeping, and in writing Spanish, both of which I was well aware would be of value to me as time went on. Day succeeded day, and fortunately during the second half of November we had an exceptionally fine spell of weather, without it being unduly hot. So the shearing of the sheep made good progress. Don Frederico Dampier, who rode up from La Concordia nearly every day, seemed very pleased to see how things were going; indeed, the second week of December found us finishing up the last of the sheep. One afternoon Charles Bent came over from the Sierras for a short visit, which was a great pleasure, as I was able to hear how Royd was getting on, and how things were going over there, and if many soldiers were about. He appeared mounted on his best horse, a good-looking light brown, with a white star on his forehead, and a white stocking on the off hind leg, also a few white hairs at the root of his tail, apparently in the pink of condition. He told us that Royd had now removed all his remaining stock to his friend's estancia near San José, where he seemed to have settled down, and to be quite happy. Nothing now was left at the Sierras, and the place was to be handed back to its owner very shortly. Bent said he himself intended to go back to his relatives, up towards the Rio Negro, so we persuaded him to prolong his visit to the Cerro before doing so. He lent a hand inside the galpon, gave out latas to the shearers, and saw to various little matters needing attention, so both Jennings and I were very glad to have him with us during the last days of the shearing. When it ended it was a not unusual custom for the day following to be kept as a general holiday before the company finally dispersed, and the shearers took their departure. Don Juan, who was quite _au fait_ at this kind of thing, thereupon arranged that on this day there should be a grand race, in which Bent proposed to ride his own horse, and a native, who had a "rosillo," or roan, he fancied very much, whom the natives generally thought a lot of, offered to ride his horse against him. The course arranged, was to be from the Cañada Grande, opposite Laborde's puesto, up to the Cerro, which was about a mile and a quarter, more or less. Both riders accordingly paid much attention to their steeds, giving them a daily ration of maize, and morning and evening exercise. Of course, there was a good deal of betting amongst the people in the galpon, for the South American Spaniard is a real gambler at heart, and the race was a much more exciting affair than the games of cards and dice throwing, etc., which habitually went on among the shearers during the evening when work was over. Don Juan, too, had always been fond of a bit of racing, and did not hesitate to back Bent's horse, which he pronounced the best of the two, supposing always he was able to stay the course. It was somewhat a stiff one, and longer than usual, the ground rising considerably during the last part of it. Bent considered this to be to his advantage, as his horse, accustomed to the Sierras, went exceedingly well over uneven ground, and he felt quite confident he should win the race. On the appointed day the weather was fine, and, as it happened there was no wind. The start was to be at eleven o'clock, and I was one of those chosen to see it made, and to send the horses and their riders on their way. Both apparently looked all right as they jogged quietly down to the starting point. Quite a crowd had collected to see the finish. Everyone wore their best clothes, and the old Cerro for the moment looked quite gay. It had seen many events and happenings in its time. A first-rate start was made, and the horses got away quite even. Then Bent's horse took a slight lead, but at the end of half a mile, to our great astonishment, suddenly collapsed, shivering all over, and breaking out all at once into a thick lather of white sweat; indeed, for four or five minutes he could scarcely stand, swaying all the time to and fro on his legs, like a drunken man. I did not know the least what had happened, but Jennings, who was well up in these matters, at once stated his opinion that the horse had been got at early that morning by one of the natives, who must have given him some poison, probably the leaves of a shrub which grew on the banks of the river Pichinango, for he said all the symptoms were just those which the leaves of that plant would produce, and he had known it done more than once before. These began to pass off during the afternoon, and the horse to recover; indeed, by next morning he looked as if nothing had been the matter with him. Of course, however, nothing could be proved: the stakes had to be paid over, and the bets, which were mostly in favour of the rosillo, had to be paid also. I myself had bet nothing on either horse, so I was no loser, for, unlike Jennings, as a matter of fact, I really had no taste for racing. There was, of course, a good deal of excitement, and some quarrelling, in the galpon during the evening--more especially as that day, being a general holiday, there had been a certain amount of Caña on the go; but Don Juan managed to quiet things down. Then the night came, and as it always does, overshadowed all things. The next morning all the shearers, having received payment for their work, mounted their horses and departed, and the old Cerro once again resumed its usual aspect of quiet and dignified seclusion. The old year passed peacefully away, and the new one came in with all its possibilities and all its hopes and fears. Meanwhile, Mrs. Dampier and the children had returned to La Concordia, from their visit to Monte Video, which really had been prolonged longer than they expected. This was chiefly owing to the war, which made the long journey less safe than in time of peace, and there was always the danger of having the horses taken as you travelled through the open country. Don Frederico had gone into town to return with them, taking two peones with him, and quite a large tropilla of horses. People generally in disturbed times travelled by the diligence, which plied to and fro pretty regularly on the "Camino Real," or Government road--but it was a most uncomfortable mode of conveyance for a lady with children, so in spite of the risk it was preferable to travel in one's own carriage, with a good supply of horses and a reasonable escort. Fortunately, all went well, and they reached home safely without any trouble or contretemps of any kind. During the middle of January the weather became very hot, and work had to be suspended from twelve until two o'clock as a matter of course, and very often longer, for in those good old days, as they were called, the custom of keeping the siesta during the summer months held sway over the length and breadth of the republic. The old Indian, Feliciano, who lived in a little house built of stone down below the big manga, was a wonderful old man. He looked after the flock of rams, and was now quite old; a true Indian of the Pampas, both in appearance and character, and his son, Juan, who was up with me at the Cerro, must have been himself well over fifty years of age. Old Feliciano himself was extremely silent and reserved. I don't think I ever heard him speak more than three or four consecutive words at any one time. But he was most scrupulous in the performance of duty in regard to looking after his flock, which was never neglected under any circumstances whatever. He had been years at the Cerro, where for a long time it was impossible to get him to live in any kind of house. He preferred to live in a "tolda," a shelter made of mare's hides, stretched over a light wooden frame, as did the original Indians of the Pampa, from whom he sprang, and among whom he was reputed to have been a leader or chief. As the sun set below the western horizon he would walk to some little rise of the ground, where he could better see it, and facing it, fall down on his knees and say a short prayer. He did not like being observed, but I have myself watched him do this when he was not aware that I was within sight. He had descendants living round him to the second and third generation. He was said to have been a famous horseman in his time, as indeed were all his race, for they practically passed their whole lives on horseback. I had been riding a brown horse, with a wall-eye, and some white hairs in his tail; he was not much to look at, but I found him to be sure-footed and comfortable, and a good horse among cattle. There was a little chestnut, too, which was very pleasant to ride. The Indians had horses of various sorts and colours, which they had been accustomed to ride themselves. Among these was a little rosillo, or roan, which I noticed Justiano liked to saddle up frequently, particularly when work amongst cattle was going on. He was not much to look at, being small, with rather a hollow back, and he seemed to me poor in condition, and to be overworked. Moreover, I saw that he had a nasty sore underneath the recado, one day when he was being unsaddled, so I took pity on him, and told the Indian not to ride him in future, as I would try to dress the wound, and if possible get it well. So I washed it myself, night and morning, applying a solution of tincture of arnica, and it soon began to mend. The horse, too, improved in condition by a little rest and freedom from pain. When the wound seemed nearly all right again, I saddled him up with my English saddle, and took him out for about an hour. I enjoyed riding him; he was so full of go; but at the same time docile and quiet. When I saw Don Frederico, he told me his history. One afternoon at the end of the Flores War, a soldier rode up to La Concordia, and asked for a fresh horse. "I cannot think what has come to this one," he said. "He is a real good one, but no sooner did we cross the river Rosario, coming from the Swiss colony, than he seemed to collapse all at once. He has come nearly ten leagues (30 miles), without shewing any sign of being tired." Don Frederico himself came out at the moment, and looked at the horse. "I can tell you," he said. "The rosillo has our mark, and so soon as he crossed the river he knew he was on his own camp, where he was born. He must have been caught as a 'potro,' or colt, and have been tamed by the soldiers. Except that he carries the mark of this estancia, we none of us know anything about him. However, go to the kitchen and get some refreshment, and we will give you another horse, and doubtless the rosillo will be glad enough to find himself at home again." No sooner, however, was he let loose, than he gave two or three neighs of joy and then he trotted off, straight up to the Cerro, and joined the horses there, so we could only conclude he must have originally been caught and taken from the Cerro end of the estancia. Such was his history, and I now saw after him myself, and took him for my own riding. He was a real good little horse, and I liked him more and more as time went on. Napoleon liked him, too, and used to lie down beside him when I had him tied up under the "ombu" tree, which gave so good a protection from the sun in the courtyard, and then as evening came I let him loose, so that he might join the other horses, and feed and enjoy himself to his heart's content. As it happened, since the New Year, no soldiers had passed the Cerro, nor had we heard any news of the war, but I was quite prepared to look upon this as merely an interlude, and we kept a good look out, especially in the early morning and late evening. So soon as the hot spell passed, and the weather became cooler, our first business was a gathering together of the horses. This meant a general sweep up of everything in the shape of a horse on the estancia: the riding horses at La Concordia and the Cerro alone excepted, for these were brought up into the corral each morning, in accordance with the daily routine. There were two large "manadas," or troops of mares with foals at the Pichinango, one called the "saino," or brown, and the other the "moro," or dark blue roan; these being the colours of the respective stallions which presided over them. These "manadas" usually fed quite apart, on different portions of the camp. They each made up a large number, as they included not only yearling foals, but both colts and fillies of two and three years old, although the former of these usually cut themselves off from the main body, forming small points feeding by themselves. To gather together so many horses and keep them in control a good many horsemen were needed, so nearly everyone who could ride joined in. Marmasola, who had a small lot of mares of his own which fed on the estate, was in great force with his sons and two other native friends. Laborde and Martin were always ready to help, and the Indians were delighted at the prospect of a really first-class gallop. I got a man called Pedro Lima, living in the Swiss Colony, but really himself a native, and a first-rate camp man, to come and take charge of the operation of getting all the horses shut up in the big manga; not an easy matter unless they were skilfully handled; and I asked him to bring two or three of his native friends well-mounted with him. In accordance with camp etiquette, I sent round to our native neighbours, inviting them to come and join us, as we intended branding some foals, so giving them the opportunity to come and see if any of their animals were by chance mixed up with our horses. The appointed day proved fine, and we were all in the saddle before sunrise, old Robinson alone excepted. We had arranged to join up with Marmasola and the party from La Concordia and so form a continuous line, driving everything in the shape of a horse straight in front of us in the direction of the Cerro. It must be remembered that this was a much more critical job than gathering up the cattle, as the horses could travel as fast or faster than we could. Moreover, when dealing with them in large numbers, care and good management were a real necessity if they were to be shut up inside the manga at all. I rode "Carnival"; the Indians were mounted as they liked themselves; "Napoleon," although he was no use, would not be left behind. Don Frederico and Mr. Jennings and their people joined us at the place appointed, as did Pedro Lima and his friends, as well as the puesteros, when plans were laid down and instructions given all round as to how the work was to be carried out. Don Frederico, who was a beautiful rider, was mounted on his gay rosillo. He always rode on a recado, with silver mounting in front and behind; he had silver fittings to his bridle, and chain reins for a little way, just where they joined the bit, then made of well-worked and softened hide, with silver rings. He wore long boots, silver spurs, and carried a light summer poncho across his saddle in front of him. Altogether, a picturesque figure!--a true estanciero of the old régime--nor do I think he was ever happier than when he felt his best horse under him, and work of this particular kind was the order of the day. Jennings, on his dark grey, cut a different figure; he did not look the genuine camp man at all, neither was he in the slightest degree; and it was easy to see that work of this kind was not congenial to him. Marmasola and his boys were in great spirits. What he did not know about horses was not worth knowing, although he himself was not a great rider; advancing years were beginning to tell their tale. But he had been through the war of Oribé, generally known as the Big War. He remembered the traditions of "the past," and as he had now been on the estate for a great number of years, certain privileges were accorded to him; but at the same time he would spare no trouble and was always willing to do anything he could to benefit the estancia and its owner. We all formed into line on the western boundary, facing towards the Cerro, stretching out both to right and left, and riding some three hundred yards apart. We allowed the cattle to go back between us, but drove all horses of every kind in front of us. Some of the colts tried hard to break back, and for the moment succeeded, but were eventually rounded up and brought back within the line. "Carnival" carried me splendidly: he was really very fast, and at the same time perfectly sure-footed. He made one feel quite safe even at full speed, and it was a pleasure to be so well mounted. Meanwhile, the line kept drawing in, and as the horses in front of us began to get up towards the manga, Pedro Lima and a couple of natives, by making a swift detour, got round in front of them so as to round them up as much as possible, more or less where the rodeo of the cattle was situate, and so to keep them in some measure under control until we all came up from behind and were able to form a regular ring round them. Meanwhile the old Indian, Feliciano, had some half a dozen tame horses not very far from the open gateway of the manga, and as these gave a convenient lead to all the others, we got the whole lot safely inside without much difficulty. This was fortunate, because if horses in a round-up of this description once succeed in breaking away in any number together, they are very difficult to get back again, owing to the speed at which they can travel. Once inside the manga, however, we were able to look them over at our leisure. There were a good many foals to be branded, so a fire was got ready. Moreover, breakfast had to be thought of, and it was not very long before a couple of roasts were preparing in front of it. We found there were nearly a dozen colts over four years old which in the ordinary way ought to have been caught up to be tamed, but owing to the war, it was decided to put this off for a year, for the reason that a good-looking colt which shewed any signs of having been handled, was more likely to be taken by soldiers than one which had been left entirely alone. They were very clever at seeing into this, even when the animals were feeding in the open camp. We found some riding horses shut up with the troop which did not belong to the estancia, but had probably been left behind by soldiers as they passed. These we caught up and took down to La Concordia, so that they might meanwhile do such work as they were able. If they could do nothing else they would be good enough for the puesteros to look after their sheep on, or for the ordinary routine work of the estancia. It was very interesting to watch all the horses when gathered together in the manga. I had never, of course, seen so many collected before, and it was a pretty sight to watch them and to note their different colours and characteristics. During the interval for breakfast the two stallions occupied themselves in having a fight, attacking each other fiercely; standing on their hind legs and striking at each other with their fore feet; then they would go round in a circle, each looking out for an opportunity to strike more effectively. Many of the mares too were busy picking up their belongings,--as they would often have a foal and a yearling, and even a two-year-old descendant regularly following after them. It was very interesting to watch them all, and to observes their ways and manners. There was plenty of opportunity to do this, as after the foals were branded we did not let them go until between three and four o'clock. When at last they were turned loose, they did not let the grass grow under their feet, but soon divided themselves off more or less into their own lots, and with their own companions. Indeed, had they been looked up early on the following morning they would have probably been found feeding more or less together in the same groups, and on the same particular part of the estancia where we had originally found them. The weather had now become quite hot again, and we had continual sunshine for nearly a fortnight. There was a stone puesto about half way between the Cerro and the "Pass of the Pichinango," where an old negro called Tio Benigno lived, looking after a flock of sheep. He was now dead, and the flock had been removed, but his so-called widow, black like himself, was still living on there, with a numerous progeny of various sorts and sizes, almost destitute of clothes who ran in and out of the abode like rabbits, when anyone happened to ride up. They seemed to be living on the rations which had been allowed to the departed parent, which were still being allowed to them. Don Frederico would have been glad if I could have got them to leave the puesto altogether, but the question was where were they to go? I was riding down to La Concordia during the siesta when I saw a peculiar sight. As I was about to cross the Cañada Grande, a short way further up the stream, the black lady was sitting astride an old dun horse, short both of mane and tail in the middle of a large pool, with a fishing rod in her hand, apparently intent on fishing. Of clothes she had none. Such garments as she possessed lay in a heap on the bank by the water. Her black skin fairly shone and glistened in the sunshine. On her head was an old black silk top hat, which also reflected the rays of light. It had doubtless been a gift to her departed husband from one of the young Englishmen who might have been staying at the Cerro, presumably with no idea, however, that it would be put to its present use. The lady saw me pass, but did not appear in the least to mind. She simply gave a broad grin, and leaving her to pursue her peaceful occupation, I passed on my way. Not very long afterwards someone who had known her husband asked her to go and keep an eye on quite a small lot of sheep, and also to act as "lavandera," or washer-woman, as well. So I persuaded her not to lose the opportunity of changing her abode, and gladly sent a cart to move such belongings as she had. Indeed, I was glad to have the puesto empty, for it was in the direct route along which soldiers would pass coming from the town of Colla, and going north, and it seemed better that they should have the road clear in front of them. Rumour in time of revolution was always busy, and it was said that the Colorados intended for some reason best known to themselves to fall back before very long from the province of Colonia, and join up with their main force in the province of San Josè. Should this prove correct, it seemed probable that a portion of the Blanco army, which, during all this time had been steadily concentrating up beyond Paysandû, would seize the opportunity to occupy that province themselves. That being so, it seemed obvious that open hostilities, which had now for some time seemed far away from us, would come much nearer. The fact was it was impossible to foresee what lay before us in the future, and all we could do was to carry on as well as we could for the present, and hope for the best. Up to now we had certainly been very fortunate, for our horses had not been taken; all had gone on very much as usual; nor had there been any interference either with our sheep or cattle. There happened to be two colts among the horses at the Cerro nearly five years old: a bay and a brown, and I determined to have these tamed. One was the foal of the bay "madrina" mare, and the other had joined the troop on its own account. They were both accustomed to come up each day into the corral, and to see people about, nor had either of them led the wild life of the open camp. So there was every reason to suppose they would prove docile, and I did not trouble to look out for a regular "domador," or horse-tamer, as I thought that Juan, the Indian, would manage, with the help of his nephews, both of whom were good riders. The rough and ready system of taming in the old days consisted of lassoing a colt in the yard, tying him up to a post for the night, and next morning saddling him up with a "recado," with the "cincha," or broad hide girth, as tight as possible. A narrow piece of hide nicely softened was then tied twice round the lower jaw, to which the reins were attached, a couple of pieces of soft sheepskin were fastened over the framework of the recado, while the four legs of the animal were tied together by a "maneador," or long thong of hide, in such a manner that by giving one pull it would all come loose and fall to the ground. The colt was then untied from the post to which he had been made fast, and up got the rider, who was going to give him his first gallop. Two men were ready on horseback, one on either side, while a third man on foot gave the thong round the horse's legs a sharp pull, when it fell loose. Usually the colt would make a wild rush forward, the two horsemen keeping each as close to him as they could on either side, so as to steer him in a straight line. Old Juan was now over fifty, nor was he a regular tamer; but he could still sit tight on a horse which did not buck-jump too hard or too long, and there was always the chance that he would not buck-jump at all, but just bolt off across the open camp. With the bay colt even this did not happen, for he merely lunged forward at a sort of uneven trot, wondering very much at finding anyone on his back. Then he stopped, unwilling to proceed, which Justiniano quickly made him do by a free application of his whip. Eventually he made his first gallop all right and came back apparently having had quite enough of it. That evening the brown colt was tied up as had been the bay, and the same procedure was followed in the early morning. Unfortunately, however, he buck-jumped rather badly, so soon as he was mounted and let loose, and he gave Old Juan a bit of a shaking, but he did not do it for long, and the Indian was able to sit tight and give the colt his first gallop, bringing him back quite sufficiently subdued for one day at any rate. The gallops went on each morning, with both the colts for about ten days, by the end of which time not only was there no more buck-jumping, but they were beginning to get handy even to the extent of answering the pressure of the rein on the side of the neck, and of turning in some measure as required. Juan was quite proud of his performance, and began to imagine he was a young man again and a regular horse tamer. Moreover, an extra allowance of Caña, or white rum, of which he was always fond, and at once took effect upon him, made him talk most amusingly of all the colts he had tamed in his early life, and the wonderful things he had done. At the end of three weeks, both the colts were bitted and could be ridden either by Margarito or Justiniano, and it was not long before they were able to take their place among the tame horses. Attached, as they were, to the tropillas, they were as likely to be taken by soldiers as colts as they would be when tamed, for they would know well enough that young horses among their surroundings were not at all likely to be difficult to break in. I had been lately riding a "manchado," or piebald horse, which had been bred and born town of Colla. He had not much to commend him, but he was easy and quiet to ride. A sad story was connected with him. Between two and three years previously a young Englishman of good position who had come out to have a look at the country, was staying as a guest at the Cerro. One day he rode the "manchado" over to the little country town of Colla. He had not much to recommend him. Returning late at night, he unsaddled the horse in the small yard, just outside the stable. He then took off the bridle, and then, not thinking what he was doing, gave the horse a hit with the reins on his quarters, to drive him out of the yard. The horse kicked out sharply with both hind feet, one hoof catching him just under the throat, and the other at the pit of the stomach. He fell senseless to the ground, and must have remained unconscious for some time. When he came round, he managed to crawl into the galpon and awake the Indians, who, as usual, were fast asleep. They gave the alarm, and a messenger was sent in all haste for a doctor, who was then living on a small place he had beyond and to the eastward of the Cerro. He kindly came over at once, and applied such remedies as he could, but to no purpose, for the poor young man during the morning again became unconscious, and late in the afternoon passed quietly to his rest. It was indeed a sad business, and what made it worse was the thought of how easily it might have been avoided. The "manchado" used to rear a bit at times, but not really badly, and I never knew him show the least sign of kicking during the time I had anything to do with him. Later on, I handed him over to Justiniano, who always gave his heels an uncommonly wide berth, and eventually he was taken by a party of soldiers, and we saw no more of him. About a week later I had occasion to ride over one afternoon to the pulperia on the other side of the pass across the river Rosario, opposite to Marmasola's puesto. I called in as I passed to enquire if there was any news, and I saw his wife, who told me her husband was out with the flock. Reaching the pulperia, I found the owner, a tall good-natured looking man, at home, and we soon arranged the business about which I had come. He then told me that towards the end of the previous week Mamerto Gomez, a captain in the Red army, was coming out of the town of Colla with a troop of Colorado soldiers, on his way towards the province of San Josè. A short distance beyond the furthest houses a poor cripple sat by the side of the road begging. Mamerto halted as he passed, and turning to one of his soldiers, said, "Mata me aquel Bicho amigo," "Friend, kill that reptile for me," whereupon the man got off his horse and cut the poor cripple's throat from ear to ear. Leaving the dead body by the roadside, Mamerto Gomez and his troop passed on their way as if nothing had happened. I asked the pulpero if he had ever seen Mamerto, and what he was like? "Yes, Señor, I have seen him two or three times," he said, "and not long ago"; and he at once gave me particulars as to his appearance. Of course, I had no difficulty in recognizing him as the same Mamerto Gomez I had first seen at the Pulperia de Guaycoru, when the old negro said to me, "Cuidado, beware!" and as the man who had been seen entering the Sierras de Mai Abrigo, whom Royd had always believed to be the real cause of all his trouble and ill-luck, viz., the sad death of poor Henriquez, and the stealing of Bent's flock, and the attempt to break in to his puesto at night. I called at Marmasola's as I rode back, and found him in, and, as usual, we discussed the war. He, too, had heard that the Reds were leaving Colonia, and thought it would not be long before the Blancos turned up there in considerable force, when he thought it likely we might have parties of soldiers coming our way, as we should then be in the direct line of route between them and the concentration of their main army out towards Paysandû; so there was pretty sure to be a certain amount of coming and going. He also told me a story of two young Englishmen who came out to Monte Video during the Flores War, with the intention of making their way up country. They started to ride out from there alone, without any guide, and very foolishly, before leaving the city, they drew a considerable sum of money from the bank, which they carried out with them. They reached San Josè all right, and the following day proceeded on their way in the direction of the Cerro del Pichinango, where they intended to pass the night. They stopped at a pulperia, or store, for some refreshment about eleven o'clock, where there happened to be about a dozen natives, among whom were four or five of very bad character. Such was the account given to the police, who afterwards made enquiries. Whether they let these men know they had money with them nobody ever knew. They were known to be dressed each in a light tweed suit, with a large check pattern on it. The two young Englishmen were never heard of again, but a long time afterwards pieces of the cloth they were said to have been wearing were found in the wood on the further side of the river Rosario, not far from the pass which led over to the Estancia Pichinango. The conclusion come to was that three or four of the natives got on in front of them and attacked them, probably just as they were about to enter the pass, which was rather a wide one, and having shot them, either dragged or carried the bodies into the wood; of course, taking the money and everything they possessed from them. Whether or where they buried the bodies, of course, was not known. So much time having elapsed, it was impossible to make further enquiries. They had simply vanished--and being war-time, it was supposed that anything might have happened to them, for at that time in the camp murders even in broad daylight were by no means uncommon. Marmasola always assumed a very serious aspect when telling this story, which usually ended by his sitting down on a "banco," or low wooden stool, and drawing the size of the check pattern on the garments of the deceased on the mud floor with the point of his knife, at the same time saying in a solemn tone, "Los dos pobres finados caramba!" "Alas, for the two poor dead men!" I allowed him to finish without interruption, and then I mounted my horse and rode home to the Cerro, pondering on the many vicissitudes which it seemed possible might happen to the unwary during life in war-time in a South American republic. Nothing had happened during my absence. We got the "tamberos" up to their rodeo, and kept them there awhile, and when I got back the little flock of southdowns were about ready to be shut up in their sheepyard for the night. I looked them over to see that they were all right, and then I went up on to the flat roof of the house to have a good look round with the glass, and so see if all was quiet. The sun meanwhile was about to set, and it was not long before the light began to fade, and one more day had passed and was gone. When next I saw Don Frederico he discussed the situation, and said he thought it would be wise to sell a certain number of the "capones," or wether sheep, which were now in good condition, and also to get a tropero, or buyer of cattle of good position to come and purchase as many "novillos," or bullocks, as we could get him to take, as by so doing we should not only lessen the stock we had to look after on the estancia, but it would do away with the risk of losing them. The "capones" chiefly fed together in one flock near La Concordia, with a certain number in two of the other flocks, so there need be no delay in having them parted out so soon as we could arrange with a purchaser. So he decided to attend to this within the next day or two. Meanwhile, if I heard of anyone likely to purchase up in my direction, I was to let him know. He also said he would write to one or two of the troperos, who had been accustomed to buy novillos from us, informing them that we had a good number for sale, and asking them whether they would be able to make up a troop. It was not long before two buyers of sheep applied at La Concordia. A day was fixed for parting them out, and I went down early with two of the Indians to help to pass the flock through the sheepyards. The purchasers happened to be friends, so agreed to part both together on the same day, and divide the sheep between them afterwards. Altogether they took between six and seven hundred, and after they had finished we helped them over the Pass of the Rosario, facing the Swiss Colony, where they intended to shut them up for the night, before continuing their journey to the town of Colla, where one of them resided. During the following week we passed the other two flocks through the sheepyards at the Cerro, drafting out all the capones and sending them down to the flock at La Concordia to replace the sheep there which had been already sold. Early in the following week, a little before eleven o'clock, a tropero arrived at the Cerro, and enquired if he could see Don Frederico, as he wanted to buy some "novillos." I had been out early on horseback, and had not long returned, and was just about to have some breakfast. I told him that he was at La Concordia, at the other end of the estancia, and invited him to come inside and join me, which he seemed pleased to do. He had a peon with him with a led horse in addition to the ones they rode, whom I directed to get something to eat in the galpon. The tropero was grandly dressed in full native costume, a beautiful summer poncho, bombachos of very fine black merino, tucked inside long boots, the latter adorned with large silver spurs, and I noticed he was fully armed. He was an agreeable man, evidently well educated, and he told me he had two other men and a tropilla of horses in the neighbourhood who had gone to look at some bullocks at a small native estancia. Breakfast over, I left him to finish his coffee and smoke, while I went out to tell Justiniano to catch me up another horse. I then offered to accompany him as far as La Concordia, so that if Don Frederico happened to be out, I could have him sent for with as little delay as possible. I gathered the tropero wished to make up quite a large troop, en route for Monte Video, and as we had a good many animals to sell, I did my best to make conversation. Fortunately, when we reached La Concordia, we found Don Frederico at home. The tropero's credentials were quite satisfactory to him, as was the price offered. It was therefore agreed that he should part out and purchase all the novillos on the estancia which he thought old enough and in sufficiently good condition to take. We on our part undertook to have all the cattle gathered on the rodeo on Thursday morning, so that he could part out his bullocks, and to help him to the best of our power--payment, as usual, to be made on delivery. The business concluded, the tropero had a glass or two of wine and departed. He said he had plenty of horses with him for his men. I then rode back at once to the Cerro, and sent off one of the Indians to advise our native neighbours and the other round to Laborde, Martin and Marmasola, to inform them at their puestos of what we had arranged, so that they might give help as usual. We tied up horses on Wednesday evening, and made all ready for an early start. I rode "Carnival," the Indians, too, were fairly well mounted. We met the party from La Concordia, Don Frederico riding his rosillo, with two big dogs following him, and Jennings mounted on his dark grey; he seldom rode anything else. The tropero and his men did not take part in gathering the cattle, but joined us at the rodeo, near the Cerro, mounted on their best horses, while the others they had with them were meanwhile feeding not far off, with a boy in attendance, to look after them. The cattle came up well, and just as we got to the rodeo, Pedro Lima arrived with a couple of natives, and also three or four of our neighbours beyond the Cerro turned up, so we had plenty of help to keep the cattle well under control. Don Frederico and the tropero came up to the house for some coffee and a biscuit, but we were soon back again, when the work of parting out the bullocks at once began. A point of tame cattle had meanwhile been brought up to a suitable position a short distance from the herd. These were guarded by Juan, the Indian, with his two nephews to help him. The tropero was mounted on an "oscuro," or black brown horse, and his two men rode one a grey and the other a bay. He began by riding in among the cattle with one of his men, singling out a suitable bullock, and then the two together, one on either side, ran it out into the point of tame cattle, where it had to remain whether it liked to or not. Then a second bullock was run out, and so on, one after another, until quite a good number were parted. One of the tropero's men now went to help the Indians to guard them, as every now and again one would try to escape, intent on rejoining the main herd, and occasionally a bullock would break loose and make for the open camp, determined to fight hard for liberty. But it was not to be! for the men were well-mounted and knew their business, and the horses knew theirs. They were, of course, faster than the bullocks, and when an animal was desperate, and really refractory the lasso came into play, and he was brought back his energy spent, and having been well bullied about he generally thought it better to keep quiet for the time being. A really good horse for work of this kind must be safe and quick on his legs, and have plenty of courage. Indeed, the best thing the rider can do, if well mounted, is to sit tight and leave as much as he can to his horse, who seemed to know all that was expected of him, and was seldom found to fail. It was now eleven o'clock, seventy-five bullocks had been parted; each one being counted as it went by two people. So a fire was lighted, and a large "asado," or roast of mutton, put on, a little coffee and sugar, some biscuits, farinha and yerba, for the men's Matè were brought down from the Cerro, and it was not long before breakfast was ready. When up at the house I let "Carnival" go, and saddled up the rosillo, who was now in first-rate condition. Work was resumed with as little delay as possible, and when the tropero announced it was time to stop one hundred and sixty bullocks had been parted. The tropero seemed well satisfied, and so were we. Our next business was to give him every assistance to get the animals outside the boundary of the estancia, where they would be easier to manage than they were on their own camp. Meanwhile we kept the tame animals with the novillos which had been parted, to give them a lead and so render them easier to drive, and we made a start towards the pass of the Rosario, beyond Marmasola's puesto. There being many of us, we had no difficulty in getting them across the pass, and when they had gone a short distance on strange ground we parted out the tame cattle, and I returned with them to the Cerro. Don Frederico and Jennings, also the tropero, rode to La Concordia, to receive payment and give the usual certificate, shewing the mark and number of the animals sold, this document being required for the police. The sun was now declining fast towards the horizon, and we had made a fairly long day. Supper, when it came, was welcome, and the pipe which followed it; and having duly recorded particulars in the log-book, I was not sorry to lock up and get early to bed. Autumn was now past, and it would not be long before winter, with its rain and storm, cold nights and early mornings, would be really upon us. I had three cart-loads of wood brought up from the "monte," where we had some men working. Some of the flocks had to be passed through the sheepyards, and what with attending to one thing and another, I always found the day pretty fully occupied. Ten days later a party of Blanco soldiers rode up and asked if they could have some food, and also fresh horses. They were on their way to the town of Colla, having passed not far from Guaycoru, as they travelled from outside. With them was Colonel Mallada, who had sent back Francisco's pony at Las Sierras de Mal Abrigo. He had a great reputation among the natives as a fighter. When I went out I found him sitting on his horse, surrounded by some twenty soldiers. I invited him to get off and come in and have some breakfast while the soldiers lit a fire at a little distance, and made themselves a roast outside, for, as it happened, we had a whole sheep hanging in the galpon, ready skinned and dressed. I was amused to see the attitude of the Indians when the Colonel passed through into the courtyard. They stood up together on one side, as it were, at attention, with a very solemn expression of countenance, and they evidently looked upon him as a man to be feared rather than loved. He was quite civil during our meal, and told me that a large division of the Blancos were coming down to occupy the province of Colonia, while the main army was now largely concentrated outside, waiting for a favourable opportunity to march in to the province of San Josè, and so on towards the capital itself. He seemed to enjoy a cigarette with his coffee after our meal, and a glass of Caña also met with approval. Meanwhile, I had told Justiniano to get all the horses up into the corral. I had "Carnival" tied up under the ombu tree in the courtyard. The Colonel himself was well-mounted on a good-looking grey, apparently quite fresh. The soldiers caught five of our horses, and left us three tired ones, so we did not get off so badly after all, and I was very glad to think that the rosillo, whose back I had cured, was not among them. They all rode off, apparently satisfied, towards the Pass of the Pichinango, and we were all glad to see them depart. But it made me think, and realise what now might at any time happen, and I determined to have the rosillo caught up and tied in the courtyard oftener than I had done, and to keep a sharp look-out over "Carnival." At two of the puestos the shepherds were each somewhat of a character in their way. They were both of them "bascos," _i.e._, either natives of or having originated from one of the Bay of Biscay provinces in Spain. One of them, whose name was Gaitan, looked after what was known as the "Fine Flock," because it contained the highest strain of Negretti blood. From it were selected the male lambs, which were to be the future rams for the other flocks. He was now no longer in middle age, bent in figure, and slow in his movements. He lived quite alone, doing his own cooking and washing, and he wore remarkably old clothes. He had been for many years on the estancia, getting the usual pay of a puestero, viz., fifteen dollars and thirty-six cents per month (just over £3), together with his allowance of meat and rations, viz., farinha, yerba and salt, which he received monthly. His only luxury was a little tobacco, and he was said to be somewhat of a miser, and to be quite rich. He was usually seen bestriding an old and rather poor horse, but he was a very good shepherd, and except when cooking or eating his meals, or towards evening, when his sheep were drawing home, I never knew him to be long absent from his flock. He was extremely reserved and silent, and I always found it difficult to carry on a conversation with him. His puesto was situate to the north of La Concordia, rather towards the centre of the estancia, and really not very far distant from the former. The other shepherd was called Anjel; he was a much younger man, although he looked older than he really was. He, too, was reserved and silent, and I often wondered if it was the solitary life he led which tended towards this, and whether he would have appeared a somewhat different man if he had been cast among other surroundings. He had neither wife nor child, and like Gaitan, was but a poor rider, and I never saw him on a decent-looking horse. But he had usually a dog with him, and I often saw a cat or two when I visited his puesto, situate close to the river Pichinango, some little distance below the pass. Here the grass was good and plentiful, and his flock, which was rather a large one, did very well. He was a most careful and conscientious shepherd, and a skilled worker in wasca, or raw hide, of which he manufactured reins and headstalls, and whips and hobbles; indeed, everything of the kind a well-equipped horseman would require. Just about this time I did not happen to be very busy, so was able to shoot a few partridge, more correctly described as "quail," which were now in good condition, and made a pleasant variation in diet. There was a little single barrel gun available, which I found very nice to shoot with. I also managed to shoot some of the common deer of the Pampas (Cervus Gampestris) with my rifle, the flesh of which is not very appetising, but the skins were easy to dry and soften, and were not only useful as a covering for my "recado," or native saddle, but also served well as rugs for the floor of the sitting-room. The natives mostly chase the deer on horseback with dogs. There is a very curious peculiarity attaching to the young of this species of deer when not more than three or four days old, when the perfection of its instincts at that tender age seems very wonderful in a ruminant. When the doe with fawn is approached by a horseman, even when accompanied by dogs, she stands perfectly motionless, gazing fixedly at the enemy, with her fawn at her side. Then suddenly, as if at a preconcerted signal, the fawn rushes away from her at its utmost speed and, going to a distance of perhaps six hundred yards, conceals itself in a hollow on the ground, or among the long grass; lying down very close, with head stretched out horizontally, and will thus remain until sought by the dam. When very young it will allow itself to be taken, making no further effort to escape. After the fawn has run away the doe still maintains her statuesque attitude, as if to await the onset. Then, but only when the dogs are close upon her, she too rushes away; but invariably in a direction as nearly opposite to the fawn as possible. At first she runs slowly, with a limping gait, and frequently pausing as if to entice her enemy on, just like a partridge, duck, or plover when driven from its young. But as the dogs begin to press her more closely her speed increases, becoming greater the further she succeeds in leading them from the starting point. Truly a marvellous combination of both instinct and sagacity, and also of maternal love. Winter was now come, and we had a spell of cold and stormy weather, with a fair amount of rain. I was out in the camp and round the puestos pretty constantly, to see that the flocks were all right, and that there had been no trouble from soldiers. One afternoon I called at La Concordia to see Don Frederico, as I thought it advisable to have three of the flocks passed through the sheepyards, to part out sheep which did not belong to them, and have their feet attended to. This was necessary from time to time, as during bad and stormy weather a certain amount of mixing was apt to occur, however careful the puestero might be. It was obviously more difficult to prevent where the land over which one of the flocks was accustomed to feed lay in the same direction on the estancia, and not very far distant from the land occupied by another. Don Frederico told me he was making arrangements to send Mrs. Dampier and the children on a visit to England, and that he was already in communication with the shipping company about taking their passage. His idea was that they should go into Monte Video about a week before the steamer left, and that he would drive them himself in his own carriage with horses and a couple of servants, while their luggage could be sent in a cart to San Josè, and on from there by diligence to Monte Video. The visit to England had been thought of some little time, but, as, owing to the war, things seemed to be getting more and more unsettled, he thought it better not to delay longer than was necessary. He spoke to me about two or three matters needing attention, and said that Jennings would remain at La Concordia during his absence, and would help me in any way should anything of consequence happen, or an unforeseen difficulty arise. When I got back, I found old Robinson in a very unsatisfactory state; he had evidently got hold of some Caña, but how I could not imagine, as I always kept it securely locked up. He talked a lot of nonsense about being tired of life at the Cerro, and of his determination, although he knew he was an old man, to go off somewhere or other, he did not care where, with a view to bettering himself. I concluded this phase would be a passing one, and by next morning he would be himself again. However, when it came, he was both dull and disagreeable, and although he had always been subject to occasional fits of the kind, I felt that his present state of mental irritation and unrest really proceeded from something more than his having drunk a little more than was good for him. I enquired of the Indians if anyone had been to see him. Margarito had seen no one, but Justiniano said he had been looking up the "tamberos," and as he was riding back he saw someone in the distance come out of the door of the kitchen, mount a horse, and ride off towards the Pichinango; and he thought by the way he rode he looked like a "gringo," the native term for a foreigner. However, next day Robinson seemed better, and the little household disturbance for the moment at any rate passed over. At the end of the week seven Blanco soldiers rode up and asked for food and horses. They had evidently come a good distance, and were en route for Colonia. They had four tired horses, which they left with us, taking the two horses previously left by soldiers, and two of ours as well. However, they were quite civil, and one of them told me we might expect to have a good many more coming our way before long. "Carnival" and the rosillo happened both to be tied up in the courtyard, nor did they trouble the least about them. Old Juan, the Indian, mostly kept himself out of sight when soldiers arrived. I suppose he had a sort of idea they might take him off, as they probably would have done had he been younger. I noticed he was always very talkative, and apparently in extra good spirits when they had gone. After about a week the bad weather cleared up, and it set in fine and dry. I went down to La Concordia the afternoon before Don Frederico and the family were to leave for Monte Video. Everything was now ready; the luggage had been sent on two days previously, and they were to make an early start the following morning, which happened to be a Wednesday. It turned out a lovely day for the time of the year, continual sunshine, with a cool breeze, perfect for travelling. On Saturday I had our usual para rodeo of the cattle, and they came up well. Early on Monday morning I started on "Carnival" to ride down to the far end of the Swiss Colony, whence the land stretched away to the Estuary de la Plata, which divided the republic of Uruguay from that of Argentina. I called at La Concordia on my way, and had a talk with Jennings about the business I had on hand. My object was to see a man, Emile Gunther by name, who was a buyer of hides and sheepskins. We had a large number of these at the Cerro, and I was anxious to be rid of them, as they were apt to get damp and out of condition during the winter. I crossed the Pass of the Rosario below La Concordia, into the Colony, following the track which led out of it, gradually rising to higher ground. Every here and there "chacras," or farms, each surrounded by more or less cultivated land. Many of the houses were built of bricks, plastered and whitewashed outside, one storey only, with bright red tiles on the roof, and they usually had a wide open verandah, very convenient to sit in, and also to eat one's meals during warm weather. Each house seemed to have its garden, where vegetables did well, for the soil was good and easy to work, and it was rare to find one without a few flowers, while clumps of "eucalypti," the blue gum of Australia, planted either round or near the homesteads, were almost universal. The stables and outbuildings were mostly mud-huts, with roofs of "paja," a reed which was quite common, and very suitable for the purpose. All this was that part of the Colony which could be seen in the distance from La Concordia, where the original Colonists had first settled themselves down and made their homes. As I rode on, I came to a much wider track, with wire fencing stretched on wooden posts on either side, running at right angles to the one I had hitherto followed. Turning to the left, I rode along this in a south-westerly direction, and as I proceeded the farms got fewer, and further apart, while the land intervening was thickly covered by a shrub, with a small leaf, the knobby roots of which, when dried, made excellent firewood. Here cattle and horses could be seen feeding, for the soil was rich and fertile, and where the shrub, or "chirca," as it was called, was not too thick, good grasses grew in between. I had no difficulty in finding Señor Gunther's farm, which was quite an important one, for, in addition to land under cultivation, where wheat and maize were grown, there were two large "portreros," or paddocks, fenced in with wire, affording ample pasturage to a considerable number of stock. Trees of various kinds had been planted, including fruit trees, and were growing well. There was a little "monte," or wood of "eucalypti," and some were also planted on either side of the drive leading up to the house, forming quite a respectable avenue. The house was an "azotea," one storey high, with a flat roof, the rooms spacious and comfortable, overlooking on their further side a garden, with fruit trees and flowers. As I rode up, I was welcomed by the owner's wife and daughter, who told me he had only gone down the farm for half an hour, and would soon return. Meanwhile, they invited me to come in and sit down, shewing me where to tie up my horse. Señor Gunther, when he came, was a fine-looking man, above middle height, well set up, apparently about fifty. He looked shrewd and intelligent, with a pair of keen blue eyes and light hair, already beginning to turn a little grey. "Buen dia Señor" (Good morning, Sir) he exclaimed genially, as he came up to shake hands. "I have heard of you." "I, too, am equally pleased," I replied in Spanish. "What a nice situation you have, and how well the trees must have grown!" "Yes, indeed they have," he said, "considering the time we have been here." He said he had a number of milk cows, and had already made a fair amount of Swiss cheese, which sold well, and he had reason to think it would prove profitable, and hoped to increase it. He told me to unsaddle and turn out my horse into a small paddock close by, and invited me to stay and have some breakfast, which would be ready in half an hour. "After this," he said, "if you have sufficient time to spare, I would like to show you round the farm." Our meal was enjoyable, and he pressed me to drink some excellent muscatel wine of a rich golden colour, which he had himself purchased, and brought out from Monte Video. Coffee and cigarettes followed, and he had evidently become able to surround himself with an amount of comfort by no means easily attainable on some of the estancias outside. Of course, we discussed the war, and I then spoke to him as to the business about which I had come. Finally, it was arranged that he should purchase all the hides and sheepskins at the Cerro at the price I asked for them, and he was to send a cart and fetch them away in about a week. He told me they were fortunately situate in regard to soldiers, being out of their track, and that scarcely any seemed to come their way, nor did he think they were likely to unless anything unforeseen occurred. After a turn round the garden, he went and had a look at "Carnival," whom he seemed to admire. I told him I had brought him from the Sierras de Mal Abrigo, where he was bred and born, and that I was greatly afraid lest the soldiers should take him at the Cerro, as we heard so many were coming our way it seemed hardly possible he could escape. He then said if I cared to leave "Carnival" with him I was welcome to do so, and he would do his best to look after him, at any rate until the worst of the trouble we were looking forward to should pass over. I gladly accepted this offer, with very grateful thanks. My host suggested I should saddle him up now, when taking our turn round to farm, and then just have a look at the Piedmontese Colony, which was not far distant. He further proposed that on our return I could leave "Carnival," now he was here with him, and he would lend me a horse to ride home on, which could be brought back when he sent a cart for the hides, etc. I gladly agreed to this arrangement, and we made a start forthwith. A peon was ploughing on the arable land, using a somewhat heavy plough, drawn by a yoke of oxen. It was a slow business, but had the advantage of turning up the soil fairly deep. The milk cows and a small flock of sheep were feeding together in one large paddock, while some nice-looking young stock and the horses were feeding in the other; besides these was a small flock of fifteen goats, the milk of which I concluded was used in the manufacture of cheese. Near the house was the usual corral to shut up animals, and attached to the outbuildings which were roomy and convenient was a well-arranged dairy. We were not long in reaching the Piedmontese Colony, which at that time consisted only of one pulperia, or general store, and half a dozen houses, more or less near it. From there the land which stretched away towards the river Plate was mostly covered with "chirca," and evidently at that time but sparsely occupied. You could just see the smoke rising from the chimneys of perhaps a dozen mud ranchos, a considerable distance apart, evidently in possession of people only recently settled there, who as yet had not had time to do much in the way of agriculture. However, I was glad to have a chance of seeing the country, and I wondered as we rode back what kind of future might possibly lie before it. Returning to the house we had some coffee and little cakes served with it. Meanwhile, a chestnut was ready tied up, on which I was to ride home; not very attractive-looking, but good enough for the purpose. Indeed, in time of war I had learned that a good-looking horse was a certain care and an uncertain pleasure. So I bid good-bye to Señor Emile and his family, with many thanks for their kindness and hospitality, and the request that should he at any time find himself in the neighbourhood of the Cerro, he would not fail to call and see me. The chestnut travelled along quite comfortably, if not very fast, and the sun was nearly down when I reached home. The first thing Justiniano told me was that Robinson had departed. Two men from the stonemason's, who lived on the other side of the Pichinango, had come for him with a led horse, about the middle of the morning, and old Robinson had put together a few clothes and belongings and had accompanied them. The craving for drink had probably been his motive, for the stonemason himself was given that way, and at his house Caña was generally more or less on the go. Old Robinson had always kept up a sort of friendship with these people, much against my wish, for I prophesied they would one day be the ruin of him. However, the fact I had to face was that I was now without a cook, but Juan got me some coffee, and supper ready on the fire in the galpon, which I myself carried into the dining room, and then I smoked a pipe and thought over my pleasant day. Later I locked all up and went early to bed. Next morning, when I went out, "Napoleon" greeted me joyfully. I had left him at home the day before. The Indians got me some hot coffee at their fire, and after seeing to some things that were necessary, I saddled up the "mala-kara," or bay, with white blaze and stockings, and started off to La Concordia to consult with Jennings as to what I had better do in regard to Robinson's departure. I found him already busy in the garden pruning the fruit trees, and told him what I had arranged with Señor Gunther, and how I was now left without a cook. He said he thought the best thing was to leave Robinson where he was; it was no good attempting to fetch him back, as he would by this time probably be drunk and incapable, or, to say the least of it, very difficult to manage. He proposed to send me a nice-looking young Swiss, called Vicente, who was looking after the "capones," up to the Cerro, to take Robinson's place, and also keep an eye on the southdowns, and I could send Margarito down to La Concordia in his stead. Vicente was handy, and obliging, getting on for nineteen, nor would he at all object to doing a little cooking and housework if required. Jennings asked me to stay and have breakfast, which I did, and said he had received a letter from Don Frederico, written from Santa Lucia, saying all had gone well, and that so far they had travelled comfortably. We saw Vicente before I left; he had just come in from his flock. He said he would be pleased to go up to the Cerro, and would do his best to make things comfortable, and promised to be there a little before sundown. I then bid adieu to Jennings, and rode round by Anjel's puesto. He was out with his flock, and I came across him without having to go so far as his house. He was silent and serious as usual, but gave it as his opinion that Robinson "would come to no good with those people over there," and promised, should he hear of anything further happening, he would manage to let me know. When I got home, we got the "tamberos" up on to their rodeo. No one had arrived during my absence, and I sent Margarito down to La Concordia as arranged. Early in the following week, one morning just after ten o'clock, Colonel Medina rode up to the Cerro, accompanied by seventy Blanco soldiers. I had met him before, and Don Frederico knew him well, for he lived not so very far from the Pichinango, and we had always looked upon him more or less as a neighbour. I at once invited him to dismount and come inside and have breakfast, assuring him it would not be long before it was ready. As for the soldiers, I said they had better make a fire down below the house, towards the big "manga," and if one was not enough, they could make two. Meanwhile, I would have a couple of sheep killed, so that they could make themselves a roast, as they wanted, and I would send them down a supply of farinha, salt and yerba, in order that they might do what a native always dearly loves, viz., have a rest and suck Matè. The colonel was a man of middle height, his hair beginning to turn a little grey. I daresay he would be getting on towards fifty. He was well-educated, and had to a certain extent travelled, having held a minor office in the Blanco Government previous to the Flores war, when the Reds came into power. Probably, too, he looked forward before very long to taking office again, when the present revolution should be over, and the success of his own party assured. He told me he was on his way to Colonia, where a division of the Blanco army would probably be concentrated, to hold the province before very long, but that the main advance contemplated, whenever the proper time should come, was to lay siege to the city of Monte Video itself, and he believed it would be quite powerful enough to accomplish this when a really suitable opportunity should arise. This was certainly good news so far as it went, but at the same time he warned me that the war was as yet far from being over, for the Colorados were still fairly strong on the inside camps, especially in the direction of the capital, where they were able to command the assistance of both infantry and artillery and also, if necessary, that of mercenary troops as well. I was greatly interested; indeed, I felt quite sorry when breakfast was over, and the colonel said it was time to make a move. Neither he nor his soldiers asked for horses, having a troop of spare ones in first-rate condition, which they were driving along with them. We parted with mutual compliments, and with the usual "Hasta la vista amigo!" (Friend, until we meet again!), and he further told me that if he could do anything for me during the changes and chances of war-time, I was to be sure to let him know, which, to say the least of it, was very civil of him. The soldiers quickly marshalled up near the door leading out of the courtyard, through which he passed, and I accompanied him. He then mounted a grey horse, which was being held ready for him, and gave the word of command to go forward, and we all watched them jogging along towards the Pass of the Pichinango, when that little excitement was over. It came on to rain early in the afternoon, and we got the sheepskins turned over, and put together again, ready for the purchaser when he should think well to send for them. Early next morning the sun shone bright, and warm, but it did not last long, for a "pampero," or southerly wind, from the Pampas, blew up soon after mid-day, and towards evening it became very cold and stormy-looking. I was able to "repuntar," or turn inwards, the cattle on the northern boundary of the estancia, and also to visit three of the puestos, where I found everything all right. The following day a bad spell of weather set in, with cold winds and constant showers of rain. However, I kept on the move as well as I could, for it was in stormy weather that a little supervision was most needed. Vicente was an obliging young man, and did his best in his new occupation, and he made me a nice little fire in the gun-room stove, where it was comfortable to sit after supper, especially after having had a bit of a wetting outside. Jennings had given me two little bull terrier puppies. They were an amusing little pair about five months old, small in size, with all the characteristics of a bulldog, except that they were very quick and active on their legs. One I called "Bully"; he was the colour of yellow sand, and the other was a brindle, like its mother, and to him I gave the name of "Brag." As they grew up they hunted the "legatos," a very large lizard, who lived among the rocks, behind the house. They also went with me when I took a gun and went after a brace or two of partridge, and they joined joyfully in the general uproar and barking when any stranger rode up, or indeed near the house. This was so much to the good, as it lessened the chance of our being taken unawares as to what might be coming, always a distinct advantage in time of war. The rosillo had now quite recovered and greatly improved in condition, and I often had him tied up in the courtyard, where I gave him a little maize, which he had learned to eat with satisfaction. I was now able to ride him with my recado, as well as my English saddle, and I made up my mind to take all the care I could of him, for the more I rode him the better I liked him. After about a week the weather became fine, and I decided to ride in to the little country town of Colla, which lay some nine miles south of the river Pichinango, as I wanted to go to the "policia," or police station about some business connected with the estancia. I had intended to put off going until Don Frederico's return, as I rather wished to see him before doing so. However, as I understood from Jennings it was more than likely he would not be able to come home so soon as he expected, I decided to delay no longer, but to start early the next morning. I did not want to take a good-looking horse, for I knew the town would be full of soldiers, so I told Justiniano to have the horses in the corral in good time, and to catch me up rather an oldish bay, left by soldiers, nothing whatever to look at, but really a good deal better horse than he appeared, and also to tie up the rosillo in the courtyard, about eleven o'clock, so that he might be safer if anyone came. The little town of Colla lay pleasantly situate on the bank of a small river. It consisted of one main street, with houses unevenly built, and somewhat scattered on either side. About half way down this widened a little, forming a small plaza, or square, where a band played on summer evenings, and people walked round and round, or sat about and listened to the music, and enjoyed also the pleasure of looking at their neighbours. There was a Roman Catholic Church, and some rather sordid-looking barracks, and quarters for soldiers. Half a dozen pulperias, and general stores, and two or three "fondes," or second-rate hotels, with here and there a private residence, often enclosed inside a garden, completed the buildings of any importance, while stretching away behind these, on either side were the smaller houses and ranchos, occupied by natives, more or less of the working class. Some of these had spaces of cultivated ground attached, and at others two or three cows and a horse or two, and some poultry would be kept, just as happened to be most convenient. There were plenty of soldiers about in the streets, as well as in the cafés and fondas. I rode straight up to the police station, and it was not very long before I was able to conclude my business. Having done this, I did not go to an hotel, as I should otherwise have done, to put up my horse and have some breakfast, on account of the soldiers, but I made my way to the house of a man called Pedro Dominguez. It was next to a large general store, which he owned as well, where he carried on an extensive and profitable business, as a buyer of produce and a seller of merchandise, and had long had dealings with the Estancia Pichinango. He received me with courtesy. A man below the middle height, getting on in years, and somewhat bent in figure, he looked to me as much like a Portuguese as anything else. "Buen dia, Señor," he said, as I rode up and explained who I was. "Please come inside, and I can put up your horse in my stable." Moreover, he invited me to have some breakfast, which was very good of him, for I began to feel hungry after my ride. His house was comfortable, and he had a good sized garden attached, very well kept, and he told me he was a great lover of flowers. While we were enjoying our meal one of the black, hairless dogs, greatly esteemed by natives, trotted into the room. It was about the size of a small terrier, with a perfectly smooth black skin, entirely devoid of hair. It had a pointed nose and a pair of very bright eyes, and they are said to be very affectionate. Señor Dominguez told me he had a widowed daughter and a grandchild who lived with him, but just then they were away on a visit to friends in Colonia. Of course, we talked about the war. He said he had never taken any part in politics, but his sympathies were with the Blancos, and he was very glad to think that for the present Colla at any rate, had seen the last of the Colorados, who he believed as a Government were self-seeking and corrupt, and he felt sure if they were allowed to continue in power, would bring certain ruin on the country. We had some coffee and a cigar, and it was after two o'clock when I saddled up the bay, and with many thanks for his kind hospitality, started on my return journey. The old horse travelled back faster than he had come, and I reached the Cerro somewhat earlier than I expected. As the sun declined, it got quite cold, and I was glad to find a fire lit in the gun-room stove to welcome me. Justiniano had got up the "tamberos" on to their rodeo, and the southdowns were already shut up in their yard, as I rode up to the house. "Napoleon" was delighted to see me, and even "Brag" and "Bully" gave me a sort of welcome in their way. I let go my horse, and wrote up the log-book, and so ended what had been quite an agreeable day. I had the usual "para rodeo" on Saturday, which was quite satisfactory, and I saw reason to think we were now getting the cattle well in hand. This was important during time of revolution, when we were likely to have fewer people to look after them. On the next Tuesday morning, I had just got in from a turn round the puestos, when the cart arrived to take away the hides and sheepskins. The Indians gave the cartman some breakfast in the galpon, and we then counted and handed over the hides and skins, for which the cartman gave me a receipt, while I handed to him a certificate that we had sold them. He started for home about one o'clock, taking with him the chestnut horse, which Señor Gunther had lent me to ride home on. The cartman told me that "Carnival" was all right, and seemed quite happy in his new quarters. The middle of the following week Don Frederico returned to La Concordia. I rode down to see him, and he said he could hardly believe he had been away nearly a month. The fact was his family did not leave for England in the steamer he intended, but waited for the next one, and he naturally wished to see them safe, and as comfortable as might be on board. I told him about old Robinson, and he said the arrangement we had made would do quite well for the present, though later on he should want Vicente back at La Concordia. Meanwhile, however, I could look about and see if I could find a cook. The winter was now passing, and every now and again we had two or three days when the sun would be quite warm, with every sign of approaching spring. We saw but few soldiers, and they were only passers-by, anxious to reach the end of their journey as soon as might be, but we had every reason to believe a considerable movement of troops would take place before very long. Early in August we had begun to see symptoms of what is known as epidemia, or sickness among the cattle. At first a single animal would be found in the camp dead, looking in good condition, and from no apparent cause. Later two or three might be seen, and in different parts of the estancia. Then you would find here and there an animal looking young and even fat, standing by itself, away from the others, not moving or eating, and with obviously something the matter with it. If taken in time and got to move quickly, and the horseman could give it a sharp run, it would probably recover. Should it, however, have gone too far, all one could do was to kill it, and take off its hide, rather than let it lie down on the ground and die slowly by inches. The epidemic went on for some little time, and we lost a good many cattle, and curiously enough it was much more towards the Cerro end of the estancia than it was at La Concordia. During this time, I was constantly out in the camp, looking up sick animals, and I took Juan and Justiniano with me, to take off the hides when necessary. Towards the end of the month I was out with the latter having a look round, and we came across a cow evidently very bad, for it could hardly stand on its legs and, when I tried to move it, it seemed only to totter from side to side. I jumped off my horse, handing the reins to the Indian, and caught hold of its tail with both hands to pull it over. I pulled my hardest, when the hair came suddenly out of the tail, and before I could recover myself I fell sideway into a bunch of big thistles which stood near. Unfortunately, I fell right among them, and felt one of the stiff sharp thorns pierce the flesh on the inside of my left arm, just below the elbow. I turned up my sleeve and tried to get it out with my knife but was unable to do so. We killed the poor cow, and I left Justiniano to commence taking off the hide while I rode back to the Cerro and sent his uncle Juan to help him. I then had another try to get out the thorn, but could not manage it. I bathed it with hot water, and as it was getting a bit painful, applied a hot poultice and hoped for the best. September came in fine, and towards noon the sun began to feel quite warm. At the beginning of its second week, twenty-two soldiers rode up, and said they wanted horses. I saw they meant business, so I told Justiniano to get all our horses into the corral. I had the rosillo saddled in the courtyard, so he was all right, as it was unusual for soldiers to take a horse one had saddled, except for some special reason, or because they really wished to be as disagreeable as they could. They were travelling out north, and were evidently pressed for time. They took six of our horses, including the "manchado," which had caused the death of the poor young Englishman, and left us one, an old bay, and he looked a very poor one. However, there was no alternative, so we had to put up with it, but it gave me a reminder of what we had to expect. The two colts we had tamed, now well-behaved horses, they paid no attention to whatever, and for this I was glad. My arm had become swollen and inflamed, and continued to give me a good deal of pain, and I was obliged to have it in a sling. It was rather a nuisance, for it was my bridle hand, but I consoled myself by thinking had it been my right arm it would have been worse, and as it was I could get about as usual. One fine morning, about eleven o'clock, an old negro woman rode up to the Cerro mounted on a rather thin "gatiado," or drab-coloured horse, with a dark stripe down its back, from which is derived its name. She had a maiden with her, black, like herself, mounted on an old grey. Each had a rug thrown over her horse, made fast with a surcingle, on which she sat, and appeared quite comfortable. The old lady asked me if they could stay for a while, and have a rest before proceeding on their journey. "By all means," I replied, and told Juan, who happened to be about, to give them a couple of bancos, or stools by the fire in the galpon, and I also asked them if they would like anything to eat. "Pero con mucho gusto, Señor," "But with great pleasure, Sir," they replied, "and if you could kindly give us a little yerba and sugar we should greatly enjoy drinking Matè, for we both feel very thirsty." Juan soon made up a good fire, and put on the kettle for hot water, and gave them a piece of meat to roast, and some "farinha," and the ladies seemed quite happy. Later on, as I was passing out through the galpon, the old one came up to thank me for the hospitality we had shewn them. "But pardon, Señor," she said, "may I ask what is the matter with your arm, for I see you have it bound up. I myself am a 'curandera,' or healer, and I am on my way to see a man who is very ill. Please let me have a look at it." This I gladly did, and she told me it was the thorn still in it which was causing the trouble, but she hoped it might work its way out. She said I must take care of it, as my arm looked to her rather as if it had been poisoned. She further said I was to send one of the Indians down to the wood which bordered the bank of the river Pichinango, and he was to get the leaves of a certain shrub which grew there. I was to make these leaves into a poultice and put it on my arm as hot as I could bear it every night for about a fortnight. Further, I was to put the water in which the leaves were boiled into a jug and drink it cold each morning as soon as I awoke. She interviewed both Juan and Justiniano and made them clearly understand what was the shrub the leaves of which were to be brought: what it was like, and how and where it grew. She then explained to Vicente exactly how to make the poultice, and how much of the leaves to use at a time. Then came the curious part of the would-be cure. The old lady insisted that I should begin it on the first evening of the new moon, and at no other time but then. We were all somewhat impressed, the Indians very much so, for they looked up the "curandera" with a certain amount of superstitious awe. However, I determined to try the "remedio," and as there happened to be a new moon that evening I sent Justiniano at once off to the Pichinango to find the leaves. He returned with a good supply of them. It was a small leaf, a little larger than the ordinary tea leaf, and it reminded me very much of the leaf of a small tree known as the "manouka" tree, of New Zealand. So the poultice was duly made; the water in which the leaves were boiled was put ready to drink the first thing next morning, and forthwith the prescribed treatment began. A few days passed, when one morning, between seven and eight o'clock fifteen soldiers rode up and demanded horses. The tropillas had not long been turned out of the corral, so our horses were quite close for the soldiers to see. There was nothing for it but to shut them in and let them take what they wanted. I did the best I could, but they took four and left one, an old gatiado, with a stripe down its back, the same colour as the one the curandera had ridden. The soldiers only stayed long enough to get horses, and then resumed their journey, travelling north. The weather was now getting warm, when one afternoon about four o'clock, an elderly negro rode up to the Cerro, mounted on a very poor-looking old "bayo," or cream-coloured horse. The Indians, who had been out in the camp, were sitting by the galpon fire, sucking Matè. I was in the courtyard unsaddling the rosillo, whom I had been riding, but not far away. I heard a great barking of dogs, "Napoleon's" voice being loud among them; "Brag" and "Bully" were also doing their best to increase the noise. I passed out through the small door, and there was an old man, surrounded by the barking dogs, sitting quietly on his horse, calling out "Ave Maria," the customary form of salutation, and waiting for someone to ask him to dismount. This I did, and he enquired if here was the Cerro del Pichinango, and if I would allow him to put up in the galpon for the night. As for his horse, he said it was worth very little, and if let go he did not think it would move far away. He looked tired, and weary, as did his steed, and said what most he needed was a real good sleep. He had a bundle with him, tied up in a roll at the back of his old "recado," a battered black felt hat and a much-dilapidated summer poncho, while some old "bombachos" and a pair of alpargatas, or canvas shoes, completed his attire. I told him to make himself comfortable, and left him to rest as I was just thinking of saddling up the bay colt we had tamed, and riding down to Marmasola's puesto. I found his flock quite near it, ready to be shut in for the night. He himself was at home, and he told me that a soldier who had passed by not long before had told him there had been an engagement some distance out beyond Guaycoru, and that the Blancos had been victorious, and had driven the Reds off in full flight to the north of the Sierras de Mal Abrigo, and so on towards the province of San Josè. How far this was really true, and whether it was an affair of much importance he did not know. He thought, however we should all do well to be on the alert, and promised to send me up word should he hear any further news. Everything seemed quiet as I rode back: the epidemia among the cattle was now dying out, and there was only an isolated case now and then, and I was thankful to think we had been able to get through the trouble so easily. My arm by this time had become less inflamed, and much less painful, so I thought it better to go on with the treatment for a few days longer than the "curandera" had suggested. When I saw the negro again next morning he told me he had slept well, and felt all the better for it. He told me he had passed through a rough time with General Lopez Jordan up in Paraguay during the war between that country and Brazil. Having drifted down into Uruguay, he found himself with hardly any money, and no friends. Had it not been time of revolution, he did not doubt but that he could easily have got work. He said his nerves had been completely shattered, and what he wanted was a feeling of security and a little rest. He asked me if I would allow him to stay on a bit at the Cerro, as he liked the look of the place, for you had a good view all round, and could see anyone who might be coming. He said if I would permit him to stay he would be glad to do anything he could to make himself useful. I thereupon asked him if he would act as cook. "Pero con mucho gusto," "But with great pleasure," he replied. When I next saw Don Frederico he said I had better arrange with the negro, whose name was Correo, to do the cooking, and such housework as had to be done. Vicente could then come back to him, as he needed him rather badly. He also told me I had better take a little boy about twelve years old, a grandson of the old Indian, Feliciano, to help to look after the southdowns, and to look up horses, as otherwise I should find myself short-handed. He was a funny little person, with a pair of sharp-looking black eyes. His father was said to have been killed in a quarrel during the war, and although, of course, a relative of Justiniano, he had every appearance of mixed blood. Correo seemed very pleased at the prospect of staying on at the Cerro, and settled down quite comfortably. He kept the rooms clean and tidy, and could cook anything that was required. For the next ten days or so we had sheep-working on hand, and I was kept pretty busy; and we had the regular para rodeo of the cattle on Saturday as usual, which was now quite easy to manage. A few days later, I started to ride over to an estancia belonging to a Mr. Trafford, which lay beyond the town of Colla, well on towards Colonia. My object was to see some rams we needed for the Fine Flock, and which Don Frederico had heard were for sale there. I rode a dark chestnut horse, which had been left tired and almost done up by soldiers, but had now recovered. I preferred taking him to a horse of our own mark, as I thought it quite possible I might have to pass through the Blanco lines. Should this be so and they took the chestnut they would probably give me another in exchange which would do to bring me home. I was up early and in the saddle just after sunrise. It was a nice morning, and the chestnut was in good spirits, and went along smoothly and easily. When I reached Colla I found the place full of troops, so did not delay, but rode straight on and beyond, being asked as I passed the Police Station who I was, and where I was going. No one interfered with me. I stayed that night and over the next day with Mr. Trafford, who was very kind and hospitable. He had no one with him when I arrived, for his daughter, not yet grown up, was away at school in Buenos Aires. His house was comfortable, well-built, and well-arranged, with a very wide verandah on one side of it. He saw me ride up, and came forward to welcome me, a thin, tall man, with a somewhat serious expression, which made him look older than he really was. He kept up the English custom of having tea in the afternoon about four o'clock, with bread and butter, cakes, jam, etc., which to me were quite a luxury. After partaking of this, I had a look over the rams, which were then in a large paddock not far from the house. They were a nice lot, well cared for, and in good condition, and on hearing the price I came to the conclusion they would be just about what Don Frederico required. So I arranged provisionally to buy twenty of them, and to pick out the ones we would have in the morning; this arrangement being subject to Don Frederico's approval. I further proposed he should write to Mr. Trafford immediately after my return, and so complete the purchase, and then we could send over to fetch them, as might seem convenient. The following day I much enjoyed as we rode over the estancia, and inspected both the sheep and cattle, for, as a matter of fact, Mr. Trafford had, for that time, some exceptionally good stock. He took great interest in his garden, which appeared well-stocked with both flowers and vegetables, and his numerous fruit trees were evidently a source of great pleasure to him. Next morning, after coffee, I saddled up the chestnut and started for home. On my way back I passed close to a place where a Spaniard, who was really a "basco," was driving a good sized flock of sheep up towards his house. A nice-looking sheep-dog, which looked well bred, was helping him very efficiently. I pulled up for a while to give my horse a rest, and I took a great fancy to the dog, for I liked the way he went about his work. We were getting a bit short-handed, and I thought a dog like this one would be useful, so I made his owner a bid for him, just in case he might care to part with him. Rather to my surprise, the man said he would not mind selling him, but only because he contemplated leaving where he was to go and live in a town, where the dog would be no use to him. The only condition he made was that I would be kind to him and treat him well. He was black and light tan in colour, and the true sheep-dog breed, with a nice head and intelligent eyes. The only fault I could see in him was he had rather too heavy a coat for work in hot weather. His name was Ramonou. He did not at all like being taken away from his home by a stranger, and I was obliged to lead him with a thin thong of hide, fastened to his collar, which I held in my hand. Fortunately the chestnut was very quiet and tractable, but having the dog with me naturally delayed my progress, so that it was late when I reached home. However, there was a moon which shone brightly, so it did not much matter. "Napoleon," as usual, was glad to see me back. Nothing had happened during my absence, and Correo soon got me some supper, and seemed quite contented and happy. Next morning "Ramonou" seemed none the worse for his journey. I had tied him up for the night and given him some food, and I now let him loose in the courtyard, just to stretch his legs. "Napoleon" was not at all quarrelsome, and the two dogs happily took to each other, and soon became great friends. I had the bay horse caught up, and started down to La Concordia, as I wished to lose no time in letting Don Frederico know what I had arranged about the rams. He was perfectly satisfied, and said he would at once write to Mr. Trafford. He told me he had heard that old Robinson was lying very ill over at the stonemason's, from the effect of too much Caña, and he went so far as to say he was doubtful if he would recover. "You know we should not like him to die over there," he said; "after being so many years at the Cerro, we had come to look upon him as almost part of the place!" "Supposing I send Steff, the Swiss peon, with a light cart to be at Anjel's puesto, say at eleven o'clock to-morrow morning. You might then send Juan and Justiniano to meet him there at that time, and they could all three go on together to the other side of the Pichinango. If there is plenty of 'paja' in the cart and he is well wrapped up, I do not see why he should not travel all right." So it was arranged; and I promised to see that the Indians were at the place appointed at the hour named. As a matter of fact, they both rather liked old Robinson, and would be sorry for him being so ill, and I felt sure they would do their best to bring him back with as little suffering as possible. I then rode back to the Cerro, round by Anjel's puesto. When the cart arrived at the Cerro with the poor old man lying full length in it, I saw at once that he was very ill. We got him out of the cart and into the kitchen, where we laid him down in front of the fire and started rubbing his hands and feet, for he really seemed in all but a comatose condition. After a while he somewhat recovered, and I got him to swallow two or three spoonfuls of mutton broth made strong and quite plain. Towards evening he seemed better, and said he wished us to get him up into his bedroom above the kitchen. He could not speak above a whisper, but I understood him to say he felt cold, and would rather be in his own room above the kitchen stove than in one of the larger rooms on the ground floor. For two or three days he seemed to mend, and then one afternoon he sank into an unconscious state, and I knew it would not be long before all was over. He could take nothing whatever, but he lasted through the night, and passed peacefully away about eleven o'clock next morning. I sent down at once to tell Don Frederico, and he sent me word he would have a shell coffin sent up as soon as possible. During the afternoon we got the remains down from the bedroom and laid them on a "quatre," or wooden camp bedstead, in the last room but one at the far end of the house, which had a door in it, opening into the courtyard, covering the body over with a white sheet. Late in the evening the wooden shell arrived, and we reverently laid him in it. I put a couple of screws in half way down, just to hold on the lid for the time being. The Indians said they would light a candle and watch by the coffin, and Correo said he would like to take a turn also. It was a fine clear night, calm and still, with the moon now in its second quarter, and about nine o'clock I went to bed. I was awakened some three hours later by a loud knocking at my door. I jumped up, hastily putting on some clothes, and took up my revolver, which was lying by my bedside. When I opened my door, leading into the covered archway, there was Correo, his face an ashy grey colour, gesticulating violently outside, and begging me to come at once to the room where we had placed the coffin. He said the Indians who had been on guard were terribly frightened, because while they were on watch the ghost of the "finado," or dead man, had appeared, and was then to be seen passing like a shadow up and down the room. As I went out into the courtyard "Napoleon" came and put his cold nose in my hand, and the rosillo who was shut in there for the night, gave a little neigh. I went to the door, opened it, and entered the room, followed by the negro, who was almost in tears. Of course, there was nothing, and I showed him the two screws half way down in the lid, exactly as we had left them. Meanwhile the Indians had fled and hid themselves in the galpon; the candle they had left lighted was flickering down in its socket, and the room was in semi-darkness. I with difficulty persuaded Correo to go to his bed and have a sleep, for he was much upset, and trembling all over, but at last I succeeded. I thereupon locked the door of the room, taking the key with me, and returned to my bed for the rest of the night, which passed without further disturbance of any kind. The next morning, but one, Steff drove up in his cart with the coffin, into which we silently placed the remains, and he started at once to convey it to the cemetery in the Swiss Colony. At the same time I rode down to La Concordia to advise Don Frederico that it was on its way to its last resting place. When I got there I unsaddled my horse and tied him up under the euremada before going inside the house. A little later I was sitting in the dining room talking to Jennings, when Don Frederico came hurriedly in. "Good gracious!" he said, "there is Steff crossing the rincon towards the Pass of the Rosario standing up in the cart and trotting ever so fast. Do go down and stop him, and tell him only to go at a foot pace." A "moro rosillo" (blue roan horse) was standing ready saddled outside. I jumped up on him and went down the high bank behind the house somewhat faster than he liked. He started bucking as he got nearly to the bottom, and what with being taken unprepared and only having my right hand on the reins, I narrowly escaped what might have been a nasty fall; but I was able to stop the cart before it crossed the pass. I returned to the house, and shortly afterwards Don Frederico started to go to the cemetery in the Swiss Colony, in order to attend the funeral, while I rode up to the Cerro, as some sheep-working was going on there I wanted to see after. Ramonou came and helped, and soon proved himself useful in getting the sheep through the yards. We were now in the first week of October, and as work of this kind would be pretty constant throughout the month it seemed as if he had arrived on the scene just about the right time. One morning I was busy superintending this work; the weather was becoming hot, and progress somewhat slow. Before going to breakfast, I went to my room to wash my hands; my arm had now got much better, the inflammation and swelling having gone. I had turned up my shirt sleeve, and was rubbing the soap gently between my hands, when a thistle thorn half an inch long suddenly popped out of my arm, somewhat in the same way as a cork flies out of a bottle, and fell into the soapy water. By its appearance it should have been a larger thorn, so that part must have broken off when it entered the arm. Anyway, I was only too glad to be rid of it, for it might easily have caused me more trouble than it had done, and I felt thankful to the "curandera" for the advice she had given me. The thorns of the big thistle are very sharp and strong, so much so that when riding through them I have known a thorn pierce right through a long leather riding boot. The spring had so far been a dry one, and we were looking forward to soon beginning the shearing, partly because the season was an early one, and also on account of the difficulty of getting shearers. Soldiers were everywhere more or less on the move, and on an estancia this is always a hindrance to work of every kind. Saturday came round again with its "para rodeo" of the cattle, and on Monday morning, between ten and eleven o'clock, thirty soldiers arrived asking for food and horses. They were travelling north to join the main army. I had a sheep killed for them, as they said they were hungry, and gave them some farinha and yerba, and I ordered our horses to be got up into the corral; it was, in fact, the only thing to do. They ended by taking thirteen horses, six of our own mark, including the brown colt we had tamed, and seven which had been left with us by soldiers, among them the chestnut I had ridden over to Mr. Trafford's estancia. They left us five, apparently tired out, and weary, and all in poor condition. I had the rosillo saddled; indeed, I now had him up very constantly, letting him out to feed at night. Our own horses were gradually disappearing, and I saw it would not be long before we ran short of them. We were now busy getting ready for shearing, and I had to go round to all the native neighbours and find out how many and when they would be likely to come. This year, owing to the scarcity of outside people, it seemed probable that more of our own people would have to shear than usual. Meanwhile, Don Frederico was doing all he could in the Swiss Colony, although as a rule the colonists were not great shearers, for at that particular time their own farms often needed attention. I had the stone walls of the sheepyards attended to, and saw to the gates, and also that the doors and belongings of the galpon were all in proper order. I also had an ample supply of wood brought up from the Monte, the necessary provisions had to be got ready as well as numerous other articles, all of which were sure to be wanted at such a busy time. On November 1st a small gang of nine shearers arrived. They had been previously engaged, and commenced work on the following day. Meantime, Jennings duly turned up at the Cerro to take charge inside the galpon, while I looked after matters outside, and also helped him in my spare time. It was not long before we found out how useful Ramonou could make himself. He helped to get the sheep through the yards, and also to hurry a flock from one of the puestos, which otherwise would have come too slowly, and so kept the shearers waiting for sheep. The weather favoured us--for the month proved warm and exceptionally dry, so work got on faster than it could otherwise have done. Soldiers called up half a dozen at a time, but no large number came to trouble us, for which we were very thankful. Pedrito now kept an eye on the southdowns, and also got up the horses, for both old Juan and Justiniano took a turn at shearing, although neither of them were very efficient. Work progressed as the days passed, and time went on, so that by the end of the first week in December, we made a finish, and the gang of shearers having received their money, at length took their departure. No sooner was shearing over than we had to see about marking the calves. This should have been done earlier, but perhaps owing to the same causes which had produced the epidemia the cattle this spring had been in rather poor condition, and the calves generally both younger and weaker than usual. The third week in December began on a Wednesday, and Don Frederico fixed that day for the marking. I went round to let our native neighbours know, and asked them all to come and help. Fortunately, the morning was fine, and we were all on the move at the Cerro even earlier than usual. I rode a black horse with a white star and two white hind feet. Pedrito was quite proud of himself, mounted on a small bay which had been left tired by soldiers, but had now recovered. He was a good rider, inherited no doubt from his Indian ancestry, and he never pulled his horse's mouth about more than was necessary. As it happened, although we were fewer horsemen than usual, the cattle came up well, and we left them to go round and round on the rodeo while Don Frederico and Jennings came up to the Cerro to have some coffee which Correo had ready for us. I let go the black horse and saddled up the rosillo, and on returning to the rodeo was pleased to find that several of our native neighbours had arrived. With the aid of a point of tame cattle to lead them, we got the herd shut up in the manga, and I felt relieved to think that my responsibility was now over. Two large fires were lit, and the brands heated, and then two of our native neighbours rode in among the cattle to lasso and bring out the calves. And so the work progressed, until about eleven o'clock a halt was made for breakfast. Seeing we depended so much upon the help of our native neighbours, Don Frederico said we had better regale them with what was known as "Carne con cuiro," or beef roasted in the hide. So a young cow had been killed and cut up in a much shorter time than the uninitiated would deem possible, and two big roasts with the hide on them were already cooking before the fires. This above everything is a delicacy the South American native dearly loves, and Pedrito's face was a picture when he learnt what was going to happen. Caña, farinha, salt, and yerba were served out, and the company were all enjoying their repast when a horseman appeared approaching, perhaps two hundred and fifty yards away. As he got nearer I saw he was riding a colt, known as a "redamon," _i.e._, only about half tamed, with a piece of hide tied round its lower jaw, instead of a bit, and as he rode on towards us the animal, a beautiful "rosillo," answering the slightest touch of the rider's hand on the rein, he was indeed a sight to see. His long black hair well oiled and curling beneath a worn and battered old felt hat, fell almost down to his shoulders. Over a shirt anything but clean was a dilapidated old summer "poncho," with a rag of a white handkerchief tied loosely round his neck. An old worn coloured "cheripa," over a pair of cotton drawers, covered his waist and the upper part of his legs, and below were a pair of potro boots, made of the skin of a wild mare, from which the hair had been removed; mounted with a pair of large iron spurs, completed his footgear. As he rode among the crowd, he raised his hat above his head with a "Buen dia Señores" (Good-day, gentlemen) as he sat on his horse like a statue waiting to be invited to dismount. Then came a cry from the assembled company, "Cypriano caramba! Cypriano!" but the tribute was certainly not to his wealth, nor indeed, to his character, for he was a well-known horse stealer, as well as a famous "domador," or horse-tamer, but rather a spontaneous and unpremeditated recognition of his wonderful horsemanship. This touched the hearts of the "Gauchos" as nothing else could have done. In spite of his rags and his dirt and his poverty, he was to them a true aristocrat, rising for the moment head and shoulders above his fellows; for such, indeed, at that time, was the way and custom and manner of the "Pampas." Breakfast being finished, work was resumed. By three o'clock the marking was over, and the herd of cattle let go, when, owing to the times through which we were living, the company at once dispersed. The weather continued hot and dry right into the New Year, when I found the water in the alhibi, or reservoir in the courtyard was becoming exhausted. As I have previously stated, all our water came from collecting the rainfall on the roof, whence it passed through pipes into the "alhibi." Usually the supply was sufficient, but probably the water had been used in excess and wasted during the shearing, and as no rain had fallen now for some weeks, it was easy to account for the shortage I wished to preserve what there was for the house, and indoor use; so we caught up an old petiso called Waddle, and Justiniano mounted him and made fast his lasso to the forked branch of a tree with a barrel fixed on its top, and started for the Cañada Grande to fetch water. He did not go very fast, for Waddle had seen much of life, and had an enlarged knee; but he had done the job before, and he did not mind. I daresay, too, he knew by experience it was not likely to last very long. So with the daily barrel brought up each morning, we managed to get along quite comfortably. As to the stock, they always had plenty of water, with the river Rosario on one side and the river Pichinango on the other, not to speak of the Cañada Grande, which was hardly ever dry; nor, indeed, had they to go any distance to drink. Of course the "seca" had its effect on the pasture, and the grass everywhere got very dry. Where, however, the camp was not overstocked, and there was good water, the animals could pass through time of drought without coming to any harm. One morning Pedrito, who had been out on an old horse looking after the southdowns, came back and said he had seen an ostrich nest with several eggs in it, which he thought were still quite good; so I sent Juan with him to fetch them. There were seven, and they turned out to be but recently laid. The female bird will lay her eggs out in the open, choosing a place where the grass is long and dry, and well exposed to the sun. The yolk is somewhat rich, both in taste and colour; but when fried in a frying pan or made into an omelette is excellent eating. One of his other pastimes was going after partridges also on horseback, holding a long stick in his hand, at the end of which was fastened a thin running noose. When he saw a bird lying in the grass, which they were fond of doing during hot and dry weather, he would ride round and round in a circle, gradually getting nearer and nearer, until he could drop the noose over the head of the bird as it lay still, as it often would do for some time. Correo could cook both the ostrich eggs and partridge very well, and I found them a pleasant change after a prolonged course of mutton roast and boiled. During hot weather he often wore a beautiful suit of white cotton; he had two of these with him, and when he brought in my meal to the dining room he would occasionally stand behind my chair, in a solemn manner while I was eating, which certainly looked imposing, for his black skin shone like ebony, but was at the same time quite unnecessary. He did not much like talking about his experiences during the war in Paraguay, which I always realised had given him a pretty severe shock, for he told me he had passed through villages where not a single man had been left alive, and where a stranger entering them would find himself surrounded by only women and children, all of whom were in a state of semi-starvation, and of abject terror and misery. All the crops and animals had been destroyed by the troops as they passed, and there was nothing suitable in the way of food anywhere within reach. I liked the old man, whom I always found very willing and obliging, and I was glad to see his health improve, as it certainly did, doubtless owing to the rest, and quiet, and to freedom for the time being from any care or anxiety as to where or how he could get a living. The New Year came in exceptionally hot; day after day brought continual sunshine from a blue sky, in which scarcely a cloud could be seen. Towards mid-day the rays of heat poured down so fiercely, they seemed as if they would scorch the very tussock grass itself. The rocks behind the house fairly glistened and shimmered in the noon-tide glare, and the large lizards were very happy, constantly running in and out of their holes, and indeed had a glorious time. Out in the camp, the ground itself got warm, and everything dried up. The cattle could be seen here and there in groups; by this formation they seemed to think they might escape the burning rays of the sun, and it was in the night and early morning, as well as late afternoon, that they were able to feed in comfort. They went gladly enough to the rivers to drink, but they could not stay long by the woods on account of the number of flies which were ever ready to pester and torment them, until they hardly knew how to bear. The sheep, also, could be seen clumping themselves together, each trying, as it were, to get shade by standing in each other's shadow. If the pasturage on the estancia was hard and dry, there was yet plenty of it, and as there was abundant water I had no fear of anything like starvation for the stock. During the great heat the "siesta" in the middle of the day had to be longer than usual, and practically all work was suspended, except during the early morning and late afternoon. The rooms, however, were very comfortable during hot weather, for being so high, and opening one into another, there was always plenty of air, even when the heavily-barred windows were, according to the Spanish custom, kept shut during the middle of the day in order to keep out the heat. We had no garden to suffer, and were thankful for the grateful shade of the "ombu," and also of the figtrees in the courtyard, so that, except for the want of water, we had little to complain of during the period of the "seca." Curiously enough, during the great heat we had no thunderstorm, the atmosphere remaining perfectly clear and dry. This, however, was quite unusual. One morning, not long after sunrise, two Blanco officers, and about eighty soldiers rode up to the Cerro. They said they were en route for Colonia, and had been travelling the greater part of the night, taking advantage of a nearly full moon. I invited the two officers into the house to have some coffee, but before accepting, they said what they wanted were horses, for many of those they had with them were tired, and it was important they should get on with as little delay as possible. I asked if the soldiers wanted food, but all they were allowed to do was to make a couple of fires and suck some Matè, before proceeding on their journey. As to the horses, there was nothing for it but to get all our horses up into the corral--they had not long been let go--and let the soldiers take what they wanted. There were now but few of our own mark to choose from; the others being horses previously left with us. However, they took seventeen and left us twelve tired ones, poor in condition, and not one of them looking as if he was much account. As it happened, the bay colt we had tamed was with his mother and the wall-eyed horse I often rode, and old Waddle some distance further away. So these did not come up with the others, thus the bay colt once more escaped attention. I had the rosillo tied up and saddled, and Pedrito was riding the little "mala kara," so he got off, but a very light bay horse, called an "andador," or pacer, which Justiniano was fond of riding, was one of the first chosen by the soldiers. The officers told me they were going to join a large division of the Blanco army, now in the province of Colonia, which was thought likely to be moving in our direction, and it was supposed General Aparicio himself was coming down shortly just to see how things were going. The officers were quite civil, but when they were gone, and I had time to think matters over, I realised that this hardly compensated for the fact that we had now hardly any horses of our own mark left to us. Such, indeed, was so often the fortune of those whose business it was in "the old days" to try and carry on an estancia during time of revolution. On January the twentieth, we had three or four very short and slight showers, and on the day following, heavy rain fell and continued without intermission for twenty-four hours. The "seca" had now broken up, the "alhibi" was more than half full, and we had no further trouble in regard to water. Soon after two o'clock on the last afternoon in the month, a party of soldiers rode up, and one of them, who appeared to be their leader, told me I was to go with them to where a division of the Blanco army was encamped, some two and a half leagues to the south-east of the Cerro. As they seemed to attach importance to the request, I did not care to quite refuse or indeed argue the point as to whether I should go or not. Moreover, I thought it would be an experience, and possibly somewhat of an adventure. As it happened, I had caught up the rosillo a short time before, intending to take a turn round the camp. I told them I would be ready in a quarter of an hour, saddled him up, strapped the belt of my revolver round my waist, slipped a light summer poncho over my head, and we made a start forthwith. Meanwhile, the Indians had hid themselves in the galpon, and I bid adieu to Correo, who looked greatly perturbed when he saw me depart. We travelled rapidly along, for something over an hour, and then, as I looked ahead, I saw an interesting scene spread out before me. In a large "rincon," at the back of which was a stream, lightly bordered by trees, were quite a large number of soldiers. Horses were either feeding loose or tethered everywhere. The men were scattered about in every sort of attitude and position, mostly resting and smoking, and some enjoying a game of cards, while others were chatting and talking together, and apparently enjoying themselves. Meanwhile, fires had been lighted in front of which large joints of meat were already roasting. A little to the right, half a dozen "Gauchos" were busy giving some colts they had got hold of a gallop, which, from their appearance, had only been recently caught up. Behind all these, on slightly rising ground, a group of officers were gathered. One of these was seated on some rugs and saddle gear, which had been piled up for the purpose, and he was at the time occupied in sucking Matè through a silver "bombilla," or tube. He was a remarkable looking man, somewhat above middle height, with rather broad shoulders, over which his long hair hung down in a slight curl at the back, swarthy in complexion, with a very keen-looking pair of black eyes. I realised at once that I was in the presence of no less a personage than General Aparicio himself. Meanwhile, he invited me to dismount, and asked me who I was, and where I had come from, and what had brought me there. When I told him, he said, "This ought not to have happened! There must have been some mistake!" Then he continued, "Siente sé Señor," "Sit down, Sir." "Vamos à tomar un matecito," "Let us drink a little Matè." In the meantime, a soldier was holding my horse, and behind where we were sitting, two lances were stuck in the ground, from which the white banner was flying. The General's sharp eyes caught my horse. "That little rosillo seems made of some good stuff," he said. "You had better take good care of him." I told him he had the mark of the Estancia Pichinango, and was about the only one we had left. "Pero que quiere mi amigo? Es tiempo de guerra." ("But what could you wish, my friend? It is time of war,") he replied, with a laugh. The General then told me that a good many matreros (deserters from the army) and bad characters, were said to be hiding in the woods our way, and that he would send a couple of soldiers with me when I went back, who could also stay at the Cerro for a time, in case I should find myself in any trouble. Thereupon I thanked him, and about half an hour later made my adieux. As I left the camp the two soldiers rode in front of me, each carrying his lance, with the white banner flying, while I followed immediately behind. Upon reaching the Cerro, which we did just after sundown, I got quite a reception from Correo and the Indians, in which "Napoleon" and "Ramonou," also "Brag" and "Bully," took part, in fact, they all appeared quite relieved, and very pleased to see me back again. On the next morning, I rode down to La Concordia to see Don Frederico. He was greatly amused when I told him of my little expedition, and at once asked me if I thought the Blancos were likely to be coming our way. I told him I thought not, as from what I had gathered their intention was to make straight for Colonia across country, as it were, without touching the town of Colla, in which case they would not be likely to come near the Pichinango. He further said the two soldiers who had come back with me would be a help rather than a hindrance, for he had been wondering how we could manage to get the horses all gathered up into the "manga" this year, and the foals marked, seeing there was hardly any outside person available. He said that now I had the two soldiers, who doubtless understood camp work, at disposal, he would arrange a day to gather up the horses, with as little delay as possible, and let me know. I could then inform our native neighbours, and possibly succeed in getting a certain amount of help. I rode back by Marmasola's puesto, and told him if he knew of anyone likely to be of any use, to be sure and let me know. That same evening, a little before sundown, a young Englishman, Mr. Frank Turnor, arrived, with three horses and a peon. He was "Major Domo" on a large English estancia up the country, and he asked if we could put him up for the night. This I was delighted to do, and we had the horses collared and sent out to feed. He was a fine-looking young man, with broad shoulders, and a tall, upright figure. We were sitting smoking after dinner, when the conversation turned upon "matreros," men wanted by the police, hiding in the woods, whereupon he told me the following story. He said where he was living they had large woods bordering the river, in which "matreros" would come and stay for a time, living on the estancia cattle, and then move off again to other secure places, where the police could not catch them. They were a desperate lot, and murdered one of the shepherds of the place because he mended up the fence after they had cut the wires, so as to pass backwards and forwards, which was a cause of annoyance to them. He said it was his business, together with two men, to search the woods every Saturday to see if they were there, as they always left some trace or other, such as the remains of food or tracks of horses. Both he and his men always carried rifles, but he was never very keen about finding the thieves, as they were known to be very dangerous characters. A new Chief of Police had come, whose ambition was to catch these men. Knowing the outlaws were in the woods, he thereupon notified him, and the police officer appeared early one Sunday morning with ten men, all fully armed, when he at once went with him to show more or less where the matreros were to be found. On the way they met a half Indian man called the Negro Largo, who in peace time was allowed three sheep a week to keep him from stealing, and in time of revolution forty dollars a month to save the horses; as the Indian then had some thirty men under his command. He went on to say that as he and the Negro Largo knew the woods, they were asked to go quietly ahead, so as to try and find the encampment, the police following. At last some horses were seen tied out near some little "talditos," or coverings made of branches, but all was quiet; it was very hot, and the thieves were sleeping. He and the Negro Largo then returned to the police, without disturbing the sleepers. Turnor wanted the "comisario" to charge right up on horseback, but being an infantry officer, he preferred to do so on foot. So after approaching a little nearer he ordered his men to dismount and form line, and himself heading them with drawn sword, charged up to the place where the horses were tied. Owing, however, to the noise caused by dismounting, etc., the outlaws, hearing what was going on, made a bolt into the thick wood, so that only the horses, saddles, etc., were captured. He further mentioned that he and the Negro Largo were not in the charge, but behind a tree watching. The police officer was intensely proud of his achievement, and at once ordered one of the best looking horses to be saddled up for him. When he mounted, however, the horse reared, and coming over backwards, gave him a bad fall, much to the general amusement. Turnor said that this was his only encounter with the "matreros," but that some time after two of the men with rifles who were revising the woods as usual came right upon the outlaws over a bank, with their horses saddled. Instead of trying to escape they at once mounted and attacked them, firing their pistols, when they on their part being taken by surprise, made a bolt of it, and being better mounted succeeded in getting safely away. Eventually all the outlaws were captured and put in prison. It was getting late when we turned in, but as Turnor wished to make an early start on the morrow, I had already told Correo to get some coffee the first thing. Fortunately, he was always an early riser. The morning was fine, and the sun had but lately risen, when my visitor and his man mounted their horses and started on their way, the latter leading the spare horse, so that either could change to it as they went along. During the afternoon Margarito arrived with a note to say that we were to have a "para rodeo" of the cattle on Saturday as usual, and a general gathering up of the horses on the Wednesday following. I therefore lost no time in advising our native neighbours, and getting them to come and help us. To make this doubly sure I rode next morning to pay a visit to two or three of the principal ones in person. Both the soldiers accompanied me with their lances, and the Blanco device on their hats and the white banner flying. When I arrived at the first native house I saw at once that I was about to make an impression. I thought the dogs barked if anything louder than usual as we sat on our horses calling out "Ave Maria," the usual form of salutation. For the moment no one appeared, but I saw signs of first one and then another woman or child peeping out through a window and so on. Then the front door was opened, and the master of the house appeared bare-headed, and with a bow desiring me to dismount. Whereupon I did so, and went into the house, the two soldiers meanwhile holding my horse outside. I delivered my message, and we discussed the war, and I was invited to have some refreshment, which I declined. When I thought sufficient time had elapsed I got up to leave, being accompanied outside by apparently the whole family. I then walked solemnly to my horse, mounted and signed to the two soldiers to move on, and altogether I flattered myself that I made a very dignified departure. The same mode of procedure took place at two other houses, each with the same satisfactory result. The fact was, we were getting very short of horses in our neighbourhood, and as hardly any of these people, friendly as they might appear on the surface, would have at all objected to coming inside our camp and picking up and carrying off any stray horse which, having been left there, would otherwise have proved useful to us, I thought it a good opportunity to let them know that, up at the Cerro I was in a position of some authority, and therefore not to be trifled with. On the Saturday the two soldiers went with us to the "para rodeo" of the cattle; "Napoleon" enjoyed himself greatly, and all went well. Wednesday morning was fine, and we were all early on the move. I rode the rosillo, who was in excellent form, while the two soldiers and the Indians were mounted on horses which had been left by passing soldiers. As we got the troop up towards the "rodeo" a portion of them tried their utmost to break back, but the rosillo was quite equal to the occasion; he was indeed a good little horse, and his speed and energy soon succeeded in rounding them up and forcing them to rejoin the others, so that we managed to get them all shut up in the stone "manga" with less difficulty than I had expected. Our native neighbours duly turned up, fires were lighted, and we were able to mark quite a fair number of foals. We also picked out about a dozen stray riding horses from among the troop, which had probably been left by soldiers as they passed along. These we divided between the Cerro and La Concordia, attaching them to the tropillas, in order that so long as they remained to us they might be made useful, and earn their living for the time being. Don Frederico was mounted on his rosillo allazan (chestnut roan), otherwise known as his war-horse; but Jennings no longer rode his usual dark grey, for it had been taken by soldiers about a month previously, so he was compelled to bestride a rather ancient-looking bay horse, which was also in but poor condition, instead. At the beginning of March the two soldiers were recalled to Colla. When they bid us adieu they both thanked me for the pleasant time at the Cerro, and when they departed took with them our good wishes. Towards the end of the month, Charles Bent turned up quite unexpectedly. His relatives outside had been unfortunate, and had lost a lot of stock, both sheep and cattle, during the war, and his idea was to make his way to Monte Video later on, for he seemed to have a hope that the war would soon be over. He had lost his race-horse not very long after the disastrous affair at the Cerro, now getting on for a year and a half ago, and he rode up on an old "Bayo Negro," or dark cream, with a black mane and tail, which had been left by soldiers, and seemed to be of very little account. I was glad to see him again, for I always liked him. Moreover, he did not look very well; he was never really strong, so I asked him to stay on a bit at the Cerro, as we had ample room, and I knew he would be glad to help in any work which had to be done. With the exception of the rosillo, we were entirely dependent upon what I might call outside horses, for we had now scarcely one of our own mark left. The bay colt old Juan had tamed, was still with us, but he had managed to sprain his shoulder rather badly, so was for the time being of no use. We had a room at the Cerro with a strong brick floor, which had at one time been used for stores, and I had this arranged for the rosillo, so that in case of necessity he could be shut up there at night. Generally, when the weather was fine, I could have him tied up in the courtyard, but when the nights got cold and he was unable to feed there, I knew it would be difficult to keep him in good condition. As it turned out, I found that the shelter from wind and rain, together with a small but regular allowance of maize, greatly contributed to his welfare. When I next saw Don Frederico I spoke to him about Charles Bent, and he said he should be very glad for him to stay on at the Cerro for he knew he would always willingly lend a hand at any work which might be going. He said he thought he would be much better there than if he were to go into Monte Video at present, as it was generally believed by those who knew, that before very long the Blancos intended to try and besiege the city, and if they should do so would probably succeed. During the next three weeks we had a good deal of sheep-working on hand, as the flocks from the puestos were being passed through the sheepyards, both at the Cerro and at La Concordia. Ramonou was really a great help; he was obedient and good at his work, and gave satisfaction all round. Bent had left his sheep dog, "Bob," with his relations. He told me it was some time since he had heard of Royd, but he believed he had sustained many losses with his stock at his friend's place near San Josè, and that he either had sailed or was about to sail for England. At this I was not surprised, for he never seemed to me well suited to camp life. He was naturally somewhat despondent, and there was no denying he had been very hard hit at the Sierras de Mal Abrigo. Correo seemed now to have recovered his health and spirits, and to enjoy preparing our simple menu. He was always willing and attentive; indeed, since his arrival at the Cerro, everything inside the house had gone on quite comfortably. Some three weeks passed and nothing happened except the ordinary routine of estancia work. During this time either Bent or I had been accustomed to go up on to the flat (azotea) roof once or twice daily with the glass, so as to have a good look round. The Cerro stood high, so that from its roof we could overlook the greater part of the estancia. This was a distinct advantage in times like the present, for it not only let us know anything that might be going on among the stock, but also allowed us time to prepare beforehand for any soldiers who might ride up to the house with the intention of causing us trouble. One afternoon Bent and I were up on the "azotea" together, having a look round with the glass. It was just about two-thirty when suddenly we saw some twenty soldiers coming our way from the East, at an angle which would make them pass to the front of the Cerro, about half a mile distant. We could, moreover, see they were Colorados, for the red banner was clearly flying from their lances. At the same time a troop of Blancos appeared, coming up from the Pass of the Pichinango, so that the two parties came into collision just about the place where Tio Benigno's deserted puesto still stood. We could see it all perfectly. They galloped furiously one toward the other two or three times, but seemed always to manage to avoid close contact. They fired their guns and revolvers, some of the shots at any rate being hurriedly let off into the air. Then the Reds made a bolt, and thereupon the Blancos, seeing this, galloped furiously after them, with their lances. One of the Reds was wounded by a shot, for we saw his arm hang useless by his side as he rode away. Another got a lance wound in his back, which was apparently more serious, as he fell from his horse after the Reds got a little further away, and had to be picked up by his comrades. So the Blancos remained masters of the situation, and after the Colorados had disappeared, they passed the Cerro at a gallop, about a quarter of a mile distant, following a northerly direction, as if they were making for Guaycoru, and we were all very glad to see both lots clear out. Some ten days later we were both up on the "azotea," about an hour before sundown. After taking a look round, I said to Bent, "Do you see that point of cattle feeding almost at the same place where the Blancos and Colorados met? And can you see a dark lump on the ground, a little way removed, just on the far side of them? If I am not mistaken that is a matrero, out 'bombiando.' You know what that means, 'looking for and marking down a young heifer, so that he and his companions can come and kill it at night,' and there will be a moon to-night up to twelve o'clock, you know!" "I believe you are right," replied Bent. "Have a look through the glass. I fancy you will find that animal standing alone a little further away to be a horse saddled, and he is probably hobbled as well." Taking the telescope, I soon saw this to be the case. "I will give that fellow a bit of a fright," I said, at once going down into the courtyard, where I had the rosillo ready saddled. It took but a moment to lead him out through the small door, jump on his back, and gallop off. I had not got more than half way, when the matrero, who must have seen me coming, ran to his horse, mounted, and made off towards the woods of the Pichinango as quickly as he could. The rosillo was going strong, and I should certainly have overtaken him, when an unfortunate thing happened. The ground was very rough and uneven, with numerous pieces of pointed rock rising up above it in every direction. The horse unluckily caught his off fore foot on one of these, and as he was going fast, it tripped him up, and he came down a regular cropper, rolling right over. I, of course, came down with him, having my revolver tightly held in my right hand, fully loaded, the trigger at half cock. When I fell it somehow got jammed between me and the hard ground, with the end of the barrel against my chest, slightly bruising the flesh. Fortunately, it did not explode! It was a Colt's muzzle loader, and I felt grateful to them for its reliability and their excellent workmanship. I remounted, and continued the chase, but the delay gave the man too much of a lead, and I only arrived in time to see him enter the woods and disappear. Bent seemed quite glad to see me return without any further mishap, and when I explained to him how I came to have the tumble, which he had been able to see with the telescope from the house, he remarked, "That revolver of yours is indeed worth more than anything it may have cost, old man!" This pleased me, for as a matter of fact, I had bought it second-hand, when I was at the Sierras de Mal Abrigo, upon its eminent firm of maker's reputation, knowing otherwise but little about it. Bent and I then got up the "tamberos" to their rodeo. They were now well in hand, and went up easily. As we returned, Justiniano was bringing up the southdowns, to shut them in for the night; I looked them over, and saw them safely inside their yard. Correo was always pretty punctual with supper when we were at home, for he was glad when work was over and he could retire to rest. Afterwards we had a quiet talk and a smoke, and both went early to bed. A week later we were both on the "azotea" about four o'clock in the afternoon. A Mr. Fenton, who had formerly stayed a good deal at the Cerro, had left his "moro," or blue-grey horse behind him when he went away, attached to one of the tropillas. The horse was not there when I came, having detached himself, and joined up with the "saino manada," or troop of mares and foals. We had not been looking round long when I noticed a horse coming at pretty nearly full speed in the direction of the Cerro, with two soldiers in full pursuit. "I believe it is Fenton's 'moro,'" I said to Bent, "and what is more those two fellows are going to have him." Just then the "moro" passed, some three hundred yards distant, in front of the house. One soldier flung his "boleadores," but as it happened they fell short. The second thereupon immediately increased his speed, and flung his with such accuracy that they twisted themselves round the "moro's" hind legs, and soon brought him to a standstill. The soldiers then slipped a halter over his head, loosed the "boleadores" from his hind legs, and led him off with them, riding in the direction of the Pichinango Pass. The "boleadores," or "bolas," as they are often called, are a very effective weapon in the hands of a skilled horseman who is well mounted. They are chiefly used to capture horses and wild mares in the open camp, and are a very important part of a "Gaucho's" equipment. They are made of twisted strands of raw horse-hide. There are three thongs united together at a common centre, each about a yard in length. At the other end of each thong is a leaden ball, covered with hide. The horseman holds one ball in his right hand while he swings the two others quickly round his head. He then lets go the ball he had in his hand, so that the three go whirling swiftly forward in a circle, and their weight and impetus causes the thongs to twist themselves round the hind legs of any horse at which they may be aimed, which, chiefly owing to the speed at which it is moving, soon finds itself with its hind legs tied up together, and so falls helpless to the ground. Much smaller balls fastened together in the same manner, with quite thin thongs, are used by the natives to capture the wild ostrich. Indeed, I have always been given to understand that the "boleadores" were in use among the Indians of the Pampas from quite remote times. A few days passed, and nothing happened, and then one morning just after ten o'clock a Blanco officer and between seventy and eighty soldiers arrived, who asked for food and horses. Accordingly I had two sheep killed, and gave them what else they required, and told them to make a couple of fires outside, over which to roast their meat and boil their kettles. As to horses, I told them we had none left, only a few more or less useless ones, which had been left by soldiers. As, however, they said they had four tired ones which could go no further, I sent Pedrito to bring up what we had into the corral, so that they could suit themselves, for under the circumstances it was the only thing to do. Finally, they took five and left their broken-down ones in their place. So we were not much worse off after all. The rosillo I had saddled, and regarding him they gave me no trouble whatever, so I really had cause to be thankful, for I particularly did not wish to lose him. We invited the officer to come in and have breakfast. He was a good-looking man, not more than thirty years of age. He told us they had come from the north, and were going to join their division near Colonia. He said the main White army was now very strong indeed, and it was their intention before long to push right through the province of San Josè, where they expected to easily drive the Colorados before them, and then to besiege Monte Video, thus stopping all supplies coming in from the interior. Should they succeed in carrying out their intention, which he fully believed they would do, we might have reason to hope the war would soon be over. In due course, the soldiers having refreshed themselves, took their departure, proceeding at a "trotte-cito," or jog-trot, towards the Pass of the Pichinango, the officer riding in solitary grandeur behind. One afternoon in the middle of the week following, Bent and I were up on the azotea taking a look round. We had not been there long when we saw something which looked like a man on horseback going slowly, leaning forward in the saddle, with his arms resting upon the horse's neck. He seemed to sit more or less helpless, and the horse, which was three-quarters of a mile distant, appeared to be making his own way, having come from the East, behind the Cerro, towards the road which led from it to La Concordia. I sent Justiniano, who had a horse saddled, to see if anything was amiss, and if so, told him to bring the horse and rider back with him. This he did, and the latter turned out to be a Swiss, weak and faint from loss of blood. We got him off his horse, and carried him into the galpon, where we laid him on a "quatre," or light wooden bedstead, and I then managed to pour a little Caña and water down his throat, for, as we lifted him from his horse, he had suddenly fainted. After a few moments he came round, and told us he was coming in from outside with a considerable sum of money on him. Suddenly three men appeared, whom he took to be "matreros," or deserters, for they had no device on their hats, although all were armed. They compelled him to hand over all the money, his poncho, spurs, and silver-handled whip, even to a large gold ring which he wore on the fourth finger of his right hand. They threatened to cut his throat if he made any resistance, and as it was he had a deep wound from a stab with a knife, just about the middle of the forearm, inside and below the elbow of the bridle hand. This had evidently bled profusely, and was even then bleeding, and it was clear the poor man had lost a good deal of blood. He thought the wound must have been made when one of them was taking the ring from his finger. However, Bent and I managed to improvise a small tourniquet, and so get pressure to bear, which easily controlled the bleeding. We then bound up the arm with a cold water bandage, and made the man as comfortable as we could. Correo made him some "bouillon," and when he had taken this he soon sank off into a doze. About an hour and a half later he woke up, feeling better, whereupon we readjusted the bandage and enquired his name and address, and where his home was situate in the Swiss Colony. I told him to make himself as comfortable as he could during the night, and early in the morning I would send a messenger to advise his friends what had happened, so that they could bring a light cart to fetch him, for he was too weak to ride. I told Justiniano to tie up a horse and start as soon after daylight as he could, taking at the same time a note I wrote to Don Frederico, telling him what had happened. This Justiniano could leave at La Concordia as he passed, without really going out of his way. Meanwhile, old Juan said he would keep an eye on the man during the early part of the night, and advise me if anything went wrong. Bent and I then turned in, feeling pretty sure that if the Swiss could get some sleep he would probably be better in the morning. Fortunately, this turned out to be the case, although the patient was still very weak. About ten o'clock a friend and a relation arrived in a light covered cart, with a straw mattress and suitable coverings. We carried the Swiss, and placed him carefully in the cart, it was evident he had received altogether a great shock. I gave his relative a written statement of what we saw; how we had found him; and what we had done, so that if necessary it could be shewn to the police, and I said I was prepared and willing to answer any further enquiries. They soon made a start, and this little excitement was over. May was now well advanced, and sheep-working among the flocks, which had been pretty constant, was drawing to its close. One morning, towards the end of the month, Bent and I rode down early to La Concordia, where the fine flock was to be passed through the yards. The work made good progress, so that we were both back again at the Cerro a little before twelve o'clock. When I saw Correo he told me a Swiss baker had called during our absence, on his way outside with bread, and that he had bought three loaves from him. We were glad of this, as being a pleasant change from the "galleta," or hard camp biscuit. According to our usual custom, we were both again up on the "azotea" about four o'clock in the afternoon. Everything seemed quiet, but we had not been there long before our attention was arrested by what looked like a covered cart slowly crossing the camp, about a mile and a half away, in the direction of the Cañada Grande, opposite to Laborde's puesto. Every now and again it seemed to stop, and the two horses, which we could see were drawing it, appeared to be grazing. Altogether, it gave us the impression that either there was no driver in the cart, or that if one was there, he was either drunk or incapable. I then decided to send Justiniano to see what was the matter. He had the bay colt his uncle had tamed saddled, whose shoulder was even yet not quite sound. I told him if he found anything wrong to make his lasso fast to the horses, and so bring them cart and all, up to the Cerro. By this time, from Correo's description, we had identified the cart as belonging to the Swiss baker, who had passed in the morning. Of course, it was possible that he had somehow got separated from his cart, which was now moving towards home without him. Meanwhile, we watched Justiniano reach the cart, get off his horse, and go round to the back to look in behind. He then came round and made fast his lasso to the horses' heads, remounted, and made start with the cart in tow in the direction of the Cerro. All this we could see quite clearly through the telescope. When he arrived, I went down to meet him, and Correo and Pedrito and uncle Juan were all in attendance. I saw at once from Justiniano's countenance, that something serious had happened. Our consternation may be imagined when he told us that the body of the baker was lying inside the cart, and that he was quite dead, with his throat cut from ear to ear. How he had come to his death we were unable to form any idea. We could only suppose that two or three "matreros" had come across him in the open camp, far from any dwelling, and that they had done the dastardly deed from sheer devilry. The poor man apparently had no revolver or weapon with him in the cart; if he had one it had been taken away, neither was there any sign of shots having been fired at him; nor was either of the horses in any way maimed or injured. In fact the whole thing was a complete mystery. Correo and the Indians seemed greatly impressed. Naturally, the former could identify the body and the cart as being that of the man from whom he had bought the three loaves of bread in the morning, but beyond that there was nothing whatever to point as to how the tragedy had come about. Inside the cart was indeed a sickening sight. The loaves that remained, and the floor of the cart, were covered with blood. I took a note of all the gruesome details, and then we got the body out of the cart, and laid it on a heap of sheepskins inside the galpon, and covered it over with a white sheet. When I first saw it the body was quite cold, and probably the poor man had already been dead for more than two or three hours, for already the arms and legs had begun to get slightly stiff. By the time all this was done, it was getting dusk. The sun had already set, so I postponed sending down to the Swiss Colony to convey the sad news until early the following morning. Soon after sunrise Justiniano started, and I told him to call at La Concordia on his way back, and tell Don Frederico what had happened. About ten o'clock two men arrived, who took away the cart and the remains. I made out a written statement of the whole affair, so far as we knew about it, and were concerned in it. This I signed and dated, and got Bent to witness. I then gave it to one of the two men, who turned out to be a relation of the "finado," or deceased. In the afternoon I rode down to Marmasola's puesto. He had just returned from Solarez's pulperia on the other side of the pass. He told me he had heard that a large division of the Colorado army, with infantry and artillery, was coming up to turn the Blancos out of the province of Colonia, and that there was pretty sure to be a battle very shortly. Hearing this, I rode on to La Concordia to acquaint Don Frederico, who said it was just about what he expected, and we had better be on the alert, and keep a sharp look-out. I then went back to the Cerro, and we got the "tamberos" up on to their "rodeo," and I saw the southdowns safely shut in, and by the time I had unsaddled and put the "rosillo" into the stable, it was already sundown. Next morning we were all early on the move. We carefully shut all the doors and entrances to the galpon, and so far as we could made all fast. We looked to our firearms, and had our long ladder which reached to the roof of the house, carefully concealed in the galpon, so that no one could get up there from outside; in fact, we prepared everything to make as good a defence as we could in the event of our being attacked. Next morning, after all our preparations, everything appeared quiet, but about three o'clock in the afternoon we heard the constant firing of big guns out towards Colla, although, by their sound, we were able to tell they must have been a good long distance away. The firing continued intermittently until sundown. We spent the afternoon on the roof, which we could reach with the small ladder inside the house. Nothing happened during the night, but half an hour after sunrise the first signs of the battle which had taken place began to show themselves. First a small party of Blanco soldiers were seen crossing the estancia at a gallop from the Pass of the Pichinango, shaping their course straight for the Sierras de Mal Abrigo. These were followed by others and by single soldiers, galloping for all they were worth. Then, later on, came the main body of the Blancos in full flight. Stretching in a long uneven, but continuous line, they passed about two hundred yards in front of the Cerro, the wounded in carts without springs, drawn by horses, and what looked in some cases like half-tamed mares, were continually passing, to which any amount of whip was forthcoming to make them move. Early in the day none of the soldiers came up to the Cerro, but about three o'clock a light cart, with a canvas covering, drove up to the house, with three horses attached to it. A negro, who sat in front with a whip, which he evidently had made good use of, was driving. In attendance were two soldiers, with their lances, and fully armed. They told us that a wounded colonel lay inside, who was in great pain, so much so that he could with difficulty bear the jolting of the vehicle, which had no springs. They asked if we could do anything to help him in his plight. I proposed that we should get him out of the cart and lay him on a "quatre" in the covered way which led from the galpon into the court, where he would get plenty of air, and we could then see if anything could be done for him. This we did, and then Bent and I attended to him. He had a severe lance wound in the right side, just above the hip bone. It was only very roughly bound up with some dirty calico, and he had evidently lost a good deal of blood. We first gave him a little Caña and water, and I told Correo to bring him a cup of bouillon, made of mutton, with rice in it, which he happened to have cooking on the kitchen stove. We undid the bandage, sponging the wound with warm water, so as to get it clean so far as we could. I then put on three pads made of linen soaked in cold water, fresh from the "alhibi," covered them with a piece of oil-silk I happened to have, and over these a broad linen bandage, to do which I remember I tore up the last remaining dress shirt I possessed. Above all this, we firmly fastened a broad strip of blanket, so that it would not easily move. Meanwhile, Correo and the Indians roughly fixed up three small bags filled with the dead leaf of the maize plant, and some old wool we had in the galpon; one for him to lie upon, with the other two on either side, in order, so far as possible, to deaden the jolting of the cart. By this time he seemed to have somewhat recovered, and although we could not persuade him to eat anything solid he took some more "bouillon," with a little biscuit broken into it. He seemed a very nice man, about forty years of age, and he told us his name was Antonio Martinez, and gave me an address which would always find him. He was very grateful for the little we had been able to do for him, and told me if at any time he could be of any service to us I was to be sure to let him know. We then carried him carefully to the cart, where we made him as comfortable as might be. The soldiers and the negro had meanwhile got something to eat, and sucked some Matè in the galpon, so they were quite refreshed, and we watched them make a start, with the sincere hope that the wounded colonel might safely reach his journey's end. The passing of the soldiers went on during the day; it did not finish until about half an hour before sunset. Bent and I watched it to the end from the "azotea," and it was indeed a wonderful sight. The excitement and the desire to get on was intense, and it was quite clear the Blancos had been defeated, and were now making a pretty good run of it, and that the whole division, of which we had from time to time seen portions, and heard so much, was hastening to join their main army, lest the victorious Colorados should again come up with them. We also remained watchful and alert, and continued to have everything made fast for the next two or three days, so that should they happen to come our way they would not catch us unprepared. The dogs, however, did not at all approve of it, because they could not run in and out of the galpon at will, but "Napoleon" and "Ramonou" managed to take exercise in the courtyard, and "Brag" and "Bully" did very much the same. However, a week went by and we heard nothing of the Colorados after the battle; all we knew was that none of them seemed to come our way, and for this we were thankful. One afternoon, a few days later, about half an hour before sunset, a captain in the Blanco army rode up to the Cerro, attended by a soldier, carrying his lance and wearing the white device on his hat. They had a led horse with them in addition to the two they rode, and all three were in first-rate condition. The captain asked me if we could put them up for the night. So soon as they had unsaddled, I had one of the tropillas brought up, and we collared their horses for them. Correo soon made up a bed, and it was not long before Bent and I and the captain sat down to supper, the soldier, meanwhile, making himself quite happy with the Indians in the galpon. After it was over we sat and smoked and talked in the gun-room, where Correo had lit a small fire in the stove, so that we were warm and comfortable. Our guest told us his name was Eduardo Suares; he was very polite, and appeared to be well educated; and he looked certainly not more than thirty years of age. He told us the battle of Colonia would have no influence whatever upon the movements of the main Blanco army, which he expected would now very shortly be moving forward, and that it would not be long before Monte Video would be besieged. He did not think for a moment that the Colorados would be able to make any firm stand outside the capital. All this being so, he considered that early in July the revolution might probably be at an end, and the Colorados would be compelled to resign office. Captain Suarez also said he had passed a great part of his life in the province of Entre Rios, where his relations had an estancia, but that he himself was a native of the republic of Uruguay. He gave us the following interesting account of the great Urguiza, Governour and despot of the province of Entre Rios, who was one of the strongest, ablest and most savage lieutenants of the famous Dictator Rosas. He ruled his province with the dagger and the bullet; himself shut up in a strong castle in the midst of the "Pampa." Eventually he succeeded to supreme power after the fall of Rosas, and his first important administrative act was to assemble all the provincial governours and to ratify the Fundamental Agreement of January, 1831, as the basis of the Constitution of the Argentine Confederation. He further told us that he himself was present at the death of Urguiza, when he was assassinated in 1870. He said that when Urguiza's body lay dead an Indian chief who was present exclaimed "Impossibile! El General Urguiza nunca muere!" "Impossible! The General Urguiza never dies!" It was during Urguiza's governorship of Entre Rios that it was said you could hang up a pair of silver stirrups upon a tree in the Monte, on the bank of the river, where there was much traffic, and go and find them there in a month's time. But this state of things was certainly not the case in the Republic of Uruguay during La Guerra de Aparicio, from the year 1870 to the year 1872. We both enjoyed listening to our guest's descriptive and animated conversation, and having bid each other "Buena noche" (good-night), retired to rest, as the captain wished to start early next morning. The horses were up in the corral by sunrise, when the soldier caught up and saddled his own and the captain's horse, and after partaking of coffee the latter bid us "Adios" with many thanks for the very slight hospitality I had been able to afford them. Exactly three weeks from the day when the wounded colonel Antonio Martinez drove up to the Cerro, a negro rode up about twelve o'clock. I happened to be just returning from a ride round the camp in the opposite direction. He appeared to be well mounted on a good-looking "bayo," or cream horse, with a black mane and tail, and he was leading a "saino," or brown, with a white star on his forehead. He saluted me, and asked if I was in charge of the Cerro. I said "Yes," whereupon he handed me a letter from Colonel Martinez, saying that after leaving us he had suffered very much less on his journey, that he had reached a hospital, and was now almost convalescent, for his wound had gone on well. It was a nice letter, couched in very friendly terms, thanking me for what we had done, which was really very little, and begging that I would accept the "saino" horse as a slight memento of what had happened. I told the negro to unsaddle and tie up the two horses and go into the galpon to get some breakfast, which he seemed very pleased to do. I then just had a look over the "saino." He was at first sight rather a long low-looking horse, with good shoulders and long sweeping quarters, and it was this length of body which made him appear, until you got close up to him, a smaller horse in height than he really was. He gave me the impression of being between six and seven years old. Bent had ridden down to the Swiss Colony, hoping to find some letters he was expecting, so I had to await his return before giving me his opinion regarding him. I wrote a letter to Colonel Martinez, thanking him for the horse, and for his kind thought about us, and gave it to the negro, who promised to deliver it, and after he was sufficiently refreshed he mounted his "bayo," to whom we had given a feed of maize, and departed. I then had the "tropilla" brought in, and collared the "saino" to the bay mare. Her colt, which old Juan had tamed, still suffered at times from his shoulder; hard ground seemed to affect him the most, for after rain he could then be ridden. A little before sundown Bent returned quite cheerful, having received his letters. There were several people at Quincke's pulperia, and the place seemed full of conversation and news. It was said that the advance on Monte Video by the Blanco army had already begun, and that the Colorados were now retiring before them. Those who had taken part in the battle of Colonia had already returned to the province of San Josè by a route which led them nearer to the estuary of La Plata, and I could not help fearing lest in their passing they might have gone to Monsieur Emile Gunther's, and so have taken "Carnival." However, I comforted myself by the certainty that if I had kept him on at the Cerro I must have lost him. When the horses came up in the morning, I saddled the "saino" and rode him down to La Concordia. Bent was not much impressed by his appearance, but when I saw Don Frederico, he said he thought him a good honest horse, likely to prove a good servant, and that I had better do all I could to look after him. We had now reached the second week in June, and winter had already come. However, we had plenty of grass, and both sheep and cattle had done very well since the New Year began. About eleven o'clock Marmasola sent me up a message by one of his boys to say that a battle on a somewhat large scale had taken place inside the province of San Josè; that the Blancos had been victorious, and that the Colorados were now completely disorganised, and fleeing before them. Further, it was supposed the main Blanco army would now move forward and besiege Monte Video. This was indeed great news, and we now felt we should soon see the end of the revolution, and peace would be declared at last. Two days later, about four o'clock, a Blanco officer rode up to the Cerro, carrying dispatches. He said his horse was tired, for he had travelled fast and far, and he begged me to lend him a really good horse, which would carry him along for five leagues (15 miles), without loss of time, at the end of which he felt certain of obtaining fresh horses and all he wanted. What was I to do? He said the dispatches were urgent, and he had been directed to make all possible haste. I thought it over a couple of minutes, and then told him I would lend him my rosillo, provided he would faithfully promise to let him go at the end of the five leagues, and this he promised to do. The moon was nearly at the full, and would be shining during the greater part of the night, which looked as if it would be fine and clear. The rosillo was in excellent form; he had not been ridden for nearly a week, and I knew he would carry him swiftly and well, and that if all went right, when let loose he would do his best to make his own way back to the Cerro with the moon. While he was being got ready, the officer, who looked as if his word could be relied on, told me that the news Marmasola had sent to me was correct, and that it was more than probable that the siege of the capital had already commenced. It was with a sore heart that I said, "Hasta la vista," "until we see each other again," to the rosillo, and saw the officer mount him and ride away. For it was the first and only time that a soldier had put a leg across him during the revolution. So I wished the officer "un buen viaje" (a good journey); the rosillo tossed up his head and set off at a gallop; he had the heart of a lion, and very soon both were out of sight. The first news I heard next morning was from Pedrito. He said he was bringing up the tropillas not long after sunrise, when he heard a neigh behind him, and looking back there was the rosillo, coming at a trot to join his troop, just as if nothing had happened. He looked none the worse for his journey, and a drink of water from the "alhibi" and a feed of maize pleased him greatly. "Napoleon," too, showed pleasure at his safe return, for they were great friends, and had passed many a night together when the rosillo was tied up in the court, and even when in his stable the dog would lie as close to it as he could. June passed away and nothing happened, except that the news of Monte Video being closely besieged by the Blancos was fully confirmed; and then early in July peace was declared. The revolution was over, and what had been known as "La Guerra de Aparicio" was at length a thing of the past. Thereupon the Blancos took over the government, and assumed power, and the whole country quickly settled down, as was the custom of a South American republic under similar circumstances. Charles Bent at once began to prepare to go into Monte Video, and left by the diligence from Quincke's pulperia the middle of the following week. His life in Uruguay had not been a very successful one, nor was he really fond of camp life; indeed, he was already looking forward with pleasure to the many conveniences and comparative comfort of life in a town. During the latter half of the month I too was turning over in my mind whether I would not take a journey out towards the Rio Negro, where I knew a man who had a large estancia. I had rather a fancy to go up country, for not only should I be able to see all that was to be seen, but also obtain a little more experience of estancia life, probably under somewhat different conditions and surroundings. However, while I was thinking it all over, I received a letter from Mr. James Jardine, who was living at his estancia La Esperanza, situate some six leagues from the town of San Josè in the direction of the river Plate, inviting me to come and stay with him there for a time. He said he had heard from a mutual friend in Monte Video that it was not unlikely I might be leaving the Cerro now the war was over, so he wrote at once lest I should be making any different plans. I rode down to La Concordia and showed the letter to Don Frederico, who advised me to take advantage of the opportunity offered. He said, however, that he was arranging to go away himself very shortly for about three weeks, and he hoped I should be able to stay on at the Cerro during his absence, and so look after things until his return. Accordingly, I dispatched a letter to Mr. Jardine, thanking him for what he so kindly said in his letter, and informing him how matters stood, and saying that I hoped to arrive at La Esperanza during the last week in August. I found myself fully occupied during Don Frederico's absence, and I kept the weekly "para rodeo" of the cattle going on regularly. On one of these occasions, I was riding the "saino," we were rather short-handed, and a big point of cattle made an attempt to break back. I had to put the "saino," therefore, into a full gallop, and was rather surprised to find that he seemed to me to have, when stretching himself out, quite a superior turn of speed. With a little care and rest he had considerably improved, both in looks and condition. One beautiful day, with a frosty air and a blue sky, I rode him down to Monsieur Emile Gunther's, to ask after "Carnival." I found him at home, and he kindly invited me to join them at breakfast. Although it was the end of winter, the Swiss Colony looked attractive as I rode through it, and this was doubtless due to the fact that the numerous and large clumps of "eucalypti" never lost their summer foliage. Monsieur Emile told me "Carnival" had kept well and safe from soldiers. Moreover, when from time to time he had been good enough to use him, as I had especially asked him to do, he had always found him a very pleasant horse to ride. I sincerely thanked him for his kindness, and, when I left, saddled up "Carnival," leading the "saino," who led very well, and I arrived home with my two horses feeling that I had greatly enjoyed my ride, and I am sure that "Napoleon" was glad to see his friend again. One afternoon during Don Frederico's absence I had been round the puestos, returning but a few minutes before sundown. The southdowns were shut up inside their sheepyard, and in it was a man in the act of catching hold of one of them. He was brandishing a large knife, and loudly gesticulating, and he looked to me as if he had been drinking too much Caña. It seems he had ridden up shortly before and asked the Indians to give him some mutton to eat, as he said he had been riding in the woods of the Pichinango, and that he was hungry, and wanted food. This they offered to do, but when he saw the southdowns in their yard he said he would have one of them, and when they remonstrated and told him I should be very angry, merely remarked "that he did not care for any Englishmen, whether he liked it or not. It did not matter the least to him." As it happened, I just rode up at the critical moment, when I at once jumped off my horse, went into the yard, and told the man to come out of it, and leave the sheep alone. He made a step or two forward, towards me, knife in hand, but I whipped out my Colts revolver, and covered him with the barrel, warning him that if he came a step forward I should fire. This calmed him down, and he put back his knife into its sheath and began to walk out of the yard. I told him to mount his horse at once, and clear out, and that if I found him again interfering with any of the stock upon the estancia, it would be the worse for him. So he rode away, looking very much subdued. I could only suppose him to be one of the matreros who were still said to be hovering about the woods in our neighbourhood. It had been Correo's intention to go into Monte Video so soon as peace was declared, but he told me he felt altogether so much better for his stay at the Cerro, he should like to remain on until I left. On August 25th, Don Frederico returned, and I went down to see him the following morning. He very kindly said he wished me to keep the rosillo, seeing I had taken such care of him in memory of my stay at the Cerro. I proposed that "Ramonou" should go down to La Concordia, where I knew he would be useful, as there were plenty of sheep dogs where I was going. "Bully" and "Brag" were to go there with him. Jennings had been away for some time, but I thought perhaps he might like to have them back. Don Frederico also said I had better take Justiniano with me, as he could lead the "saino" with my light baggage. My box and portmanteau meanwhile could be sent over to Quincke's pulperia to await the next diligence passing on to San Josè, where it could be left at the Hotel Oriental, until I could send for them. I arranged to start three days later, and when I got back began putting my things together, and getting everything ready for a move. The morning proved fine, and Justiniano and I were all ready saddled up soon after sunrise. I rode "Carnival" and led the rosillo, while Justiniano bestrode a grey, not by any means a bad horse, which had been left by soldiers. He led the "saino," also saddled, and carrying my light baggage. Uncle Juan, and Correo, and Pedrito were all present to see us off, and thus I bid adieu to the Cerro del Pichinango, not without regret, as I thought of the day I had first arrived there, now more than two years ago, and of all that had happened since. PART III. LA ESTANCIA ESPERANZA. We rode quietly along, for we had about twelve and a half leagues in front of us, until we reached our journey's end. "Napoleon" appeared quite happy; not the least upset by the prospect of a change in his surroundings. I had brought some cold meat and biscuit, and a little coffee and sugar, so that we might enjoy a light meal between eleven and twelve o'clock, and also let the horses rest and graze for a while. We made a little fire by the side of the track, and then sat down until our coffee got warm. After that, we made good progress, so that we arrived at La Esperanza about three o'clock in the afternoon, where I received a very kind welcome from Mr. and Mrs. Jardine, who were at home at the time. When I had unsaddled, the former told me to turn my three horses into a large paddock, enclosed with wire fencing, where he said they would be all right. Justiniano, however, kept his grey, and tethered him out for the night, so that he could then get it early next morning, when he was to return to the Cerro. Mr. Jardine's house was both roomy and comfortable. It stood facing a picturesque river, less than half a mile distant, with woods on either bank. In front was a wide verandah, which also went further back in the middle, thus dividing the house, as it were, into two wings, united at the back by bedrooms, which lay behind. As you entered Mr. and Mrs. Jardine's apartments were on the right, and a large dining-room, with a kitchen and sundry outbuildings attached, lay to the left. Quite at the far end of the house to the right stood a high tower, with a comfortable sitting-room below, and a bedroom above. Beyond this again was a flower garden, with numerous fruit trees, and this joined on to another garden at the back, where both flowers and vegetables abundantly flourished. In front of the verandah, looking towards the river, was a wide open space. A brick house, with its roof of red tiles, a storehouse, and an office stood fairly removed on the right, while further away in front was a "galpon," or woolshed, with ranchos for employees adjoining, but these latter were at the same time so situate as not in any way to incommode the house itself, neither did they shut off the view of the woods and river beyond. Mr. James Jardine, or Don Diego, as he was mostly called, was a thin spare man, of middle height, and something over forty years of age. He was a great sportsman, and devoted to shooting; indeed, during the winter months he occupied himself in scarcely any other way. He really took but little interest in the work of the estancia, as he left this to his managing partner, Mr. Alexander Maclean, otherwise known as Don Alejandro, who, at the time of my arrival, was away in Monte Video, but was expected to return in about a fortnight. Mrs. Jardine was not very strong; she usually had her sister, Miss Denman, living with her, who, at the time I came, was away on a visit. There were two little boys, one five years old, called Peter, and the other two and a half, whose name was John. They were altogether a very happy family, greatly preferring the freedom of the camp to the conventions of town life. The Estancia Esperanza comprised somewhere about eleven thousand acres, but within this area were included three or four "banyados," or small lakes, and a certain amount of land, which was often covered with water during wet weather, but affording at the same time very useful pasturage. There were twelve hundred head of cattle, and a "manada" of mares and colts, beside something over thirteen thousand sheep. These were distributed at five puestos, more or less two thousand and five hundred at each, while perhaps five hundred fed at the estancia itself. Both cattle and sheep were each under the charge of a "capataz," or foreman, who carried on all work connected with them, the sheep being under the superintendence of a Scotchman, named John Gordon, and the cattle and horses of a native, who would then be more than fifty years of age. His name was Ramon Duran, a first-rate camp man, who knew his business thoroughly. Owing to the war, which had so recently ended, the estancia was short of riding horses. Mr. Jardine was much surprised when I told him I had succeeded in saving mine, for he had nearly had to part with the only horse he ever really cared to ride, a good-looking "rosillo alazan," or chestnut roan; indeed, he said it was more good luck than any care and management on his part which had enabled him to keep him. Meanwhile, all was well, he said, which ended well. Spring was now coming on, and September came in fine and warm. I went for a ride round the estancia, and came back along the bank of the river. It was pleasant riding here, and I could well imagine that later on in the summer the flowering creepers would be very beautiful. As I passed, it was drawing on to sunset; I noted the cry of a "carpincho," or water-pig, whom I had suddenly disturbed, while the shrill call of the "pteru-pteru," or plover, made itself heard on the plain beyond; and a flight of water-fowl, among whom I noticed a white egret crane, came quickly swooping down at the side of some marshy land, mostly covered with reeds, where doubtless they had their home. When I again reached the house I was glad to find my box and portmanteau had arrived, a cartman who was returning to La Esperanza having come across them at the Hotel Oriental in San José, and brought them along in his cart. "Napoleon" had already found a corner in the verandah, underneath the tower, in which to sleep. He was a very good-tempered dog, and I had no fear that he would be at all likely in any way to alarm the children. Next morning I walked down to the corral, to see the riding horses brought up, a good many of which had evidently been left by soldiers during the war. During the next couple of weeks the flocks from the puestos were being passed through the sheepyards at the estancia; the lambs had to be marked, and various matters attended to. I also went to my first "para rodeo" of the cattle. We had horses tied up the night before, and made an early start. I rode my rosillo, and went with Ramon Duran to the far end of the estancia, looking towards the river Plate. It was a beautiful morning, and the air was delightful as we galloped along. I soon perceived the cattle were well in hand. They came up very well to the "rodeo," and were easy to keep there. The first fortnight in October proved very fine and warm. Meanwhile, Miss Denman had returned, as also had Mr. Alexander Maclean, from Monte Video. I found him to be a big, burly, and apparently good-natured looking Scotchman. He proposed that I should take charge of the accounts, and also lend a hand in the ordinary routine work of the estancia. He took me into the office and shewed me the books, explaining how they had been kept. I had hitherto been occupying one of the bedrooms opening on the garden, which lay behind the house, but I now moved up into the bedroom above the tower. This was very agreeable, for there was a splendid look-out from either of the two windows, and I could imagine what it would appear on some clear night in summer, when a full moon was shining, the heat of the day over, and you could gaze far and wide in every direction, beyond lake and wood, and river, away to the distant horizon, which alone would appear to end the undulating plains of Uruguay. There was a very nice American wagonette at the estancia. It had four wheels, and was fitted with a pole, and drawn by a pair of small bay horses, with flowing manes and tails. Their brown harness was both light and strong, with brass mountings, so that altogether it was really a very pretty turn-out. A young Scotchman, who acted as coachman, sat in front, while those inside sat facing each other behind. When the weather permitted, Mrs. Jardine much enjoyed a drive down to Beatty's puesto, which was at the far end of the estancia, and she liked to take her sister and the children with her. Accordingly, one afternoon, they all made a start, inviting me to go with them. So I mounted "Carnival," whom I happened to have caught up, and "Napoleon" went with us. There were one or two wide tracks leading from La Esperanza, on either side of it, which had developed into quite respectable roads for driving on. Partly from having been beaten down by carts, and partly from the nature of the soil, they seemed to have caked down quite hard and firm, so that ruts and bad places were few, and the carriage was able to pass smoothly and easily along. Mrs. Beatty was a nice woman, with an engaging manner. She had two children, Susan, a little girl of nine, and David, a fine little fellow of five. She had unfortunately lost her eldest boy, who would now have been about fourteen, a little more than a year ago, owing to an accident with a horse, which had kicked him and seriously hurt him internally. This was a great grief to his mother; his name was Robert, and he had come out with his parents from Scotland. Mrs. Beatty welcomed us warmly when we arrived. It made quite a small picnic for the children, for she always insisted on their staying to have tea and some of the nice little Scotch cakes she made. So we took the horses out of the carriage, and tied them up under the "euremada," for the sun was now getting to be quite hot after mid-day. Beatty himself was a quiet, rather solemn-looking man, with a red complexion, and sandy-coloured hair. It was pleasant as we returned in the late afternoon, and as we passed along, we saw one of the blue silver foxes some distance ahead of us, already come out of his lair, preparing for an evening stroll. We made too much noise for him, however, and he soon made off, followed in full chase by "Napoleon," but naturally to no purpose. The sun was fast declining when we reached the estancia; however, I was pleased to hear both the ladies and children tell Mr. Jardine, who was in the verandah, they had enjoyed their drive, and had all of them spent a very pleasant afternoon. The next morning we had a heavy thunderstorm, with sharp and continuous flashes of lightning, which lasted upwards of an hour, and was then followed by torrential rain. This went on the greater part of the day. Shearing began on the tenth of November. There was only a small gang of six professional shearers employed. The remainder were made up of natives living in the neighbourhood, of which there were a good many, who not only could shear well, but had been accustomed to come year after year. The "galpon" was not nearly so large as that at the Cerro, in fact the room available was if anything too restricted for the number of sheep which had to be shorn. More time, therefore, was needed to complete the business. On November 20th a spell of bad weather set in which caused delay, as the sheep naturally were wet and could not easily be got dry again. However, a week later it cleared up, and after that work progressed satisfactorily. The shearers were very quiet, and orderly, and although they did not shear very fast, they did their work well. The month of December, however, was half through before the shearing was completed, and the shearers, having received the money due to them, finally took their departure. No festivities took place, as was so often customary at the end of shearing, but it was generally understood that a race or something of the kind would be held later on, probably on one of the days between Christmas and the New Year. John Gordon, the "capataz" of the sheep, had a nice bay horse, about five years old, belonging to himself, which had been born and grown up, and also been tamed on the estancia. His owner considered him to be something of a racer; indeed, had so high an opinion of him, I really believed him to think he would easily run away from anything likely to be put against him. When some talk was taking place about having a race one evening at dinner, I said I should not mind matching my old "saino" against Gordon's bay, provided the distance was anything over a mile. Don Alejandro told Gordon what I had said, and he was quite willing to ride his horse against mine, and as it happened we were both just about an equal weight. I had seen the bay several times, a good-looking horse, with a white star on his forehead, and two white hind fetlocks, and I reflected I had probably made a mistake in putting my "saino" against him. However, as the race was only to be for prizes given by Mr. Jardine and Don Alejandro, and there was to be no betting between Gordon and myself, nor indeed did I intend to bet with anyone else, I did not see any harm would be done, and if it gave any pleasure to the people on the estancia to see a bit of a gallop, all I had to say was I hoped they would enjoy the amusement of it, and that the best horse would win. The time being so short, it was obvious nothing could be done in regard to training either horse, beyond giving him half a dozen gallops or so, just to clear his wind; and it was agreed that both horses should run the race as they were, without giving them any maize or special preparation. The "saino" had improved a good bit in condition since he came to La Esperanza. A rest had done him good, especially as to his forelegs, which I felt sure had been a bit shaken. He had also got his summer coat, and this added to his appearance. We now knew the distance was to be a mile and a quarter, on the track leading from the estancia towards Beatty's puesto, and the finish was to end as close to the _former_ as possible. I caught the "saino" up for three hours every day, and gave him a brush over, and saw to his feet, taking him out for a gentle canter, and every other day I gave him a gallop on the course, but not at full speed; in fact, I only put him to this twice until the day of the race arrived, and then for not more than a quarter of a mile at a time. Gordon did much the same with his bay, only while I rode my horse late in the afternoon, he rode his early in the morning, when no-one was much about to see how he performed. New Year's Day was appointed for the race to be run, at three o'clock in the afternoon, the day being, of course, a holiday. There was a pretty general feeling at the estancia that the bay horse would win, and the odds were greatly in his favour. I knew, of course, that bets would be made on the race. I never knew a race in South America when they were not, but beyond the prizes that were given, I myself, as I have before mentioned, did not stand to win anything. These were to be an excellent English saddle and bridle complete, and a breech-loading revolver, of a good make, with a box containing a hundred cartridges to fit. New Year's Day proved fine and still; the sun shone from a blue sky, interspersed here and there with light "cirrus" cloud, but the air was fresh and cool, so it was not too hot; just the day, indeed, for everyone to enjoy a holiday. News of the race, of course, got about, and I was told that some natives who were interested in racing were coming to look on, probably inspired by curiosity to see how the Englishmen managed it. As Gordon and I rode quietly down, soon after half-past two o'clock, to the starting point, there seemed quite a little crowd gathering where the finish was to take place. Two friends of Gordon came with us to see us off. The start was quickly made, neither horse giving the slightest trouble. The bay took the lead from the first, and made the running throughout, the "saino" being in close attendance. When, however, we were about three hundred yards from the finish, and I fancied the bay seemed flagging a little, for I saw that Gordon was using his whip, I also made a call upon the "saino" which he immediately answered, and stretching himself out, shot forward like an arrow from a bow, winning easily by a couple of lengths. The natives at once came to inspect the winner, and one, who seemed somewhat of a principal man among them, asked me if I would like to part with him, offering me forty dollars for him. I asked him if he was buying him to keep or to sell again, and also if he would be sure and treat him all right. He promised to keep him, and to do this, so we rode back to the estancia. I unsaddled the "saino," the man paid me over the forty dollars, and he then took the horse straight away with him. I knew if I refused the offer, that it would not probably be very long before the old "saino" would be missing, for I had noticed one or two natives present, men who did not look too particular, shewing a somewhat peculiar interest in the horse, now they had seen how he could gallop. As a matter of fact, I had no real fancy for racing, and I thought it better to pass on the "saino" to an owner who did like it, and to a man who evidently appreciated the horse's good qualities, and would therefore be likely to take good care of him. I happened to hear of him again some time later from a man I met casually. He told me the horse had done a good bit of racing in a quiet way, and had been quite successful, and had done well for his new owner, so that he also would probably continue to do well by him. I received many congratulations upon the result of the race, and it seemed to be the general opinion that the native, when he bought the "saino" from me, got very good value for his money. In the middle of January the weather became very hot, and this lasted a little over a fortnight, and then came a succession of thunderstorms, with severe lightning, which rapidly cooled the air. I watched one of these with much interest about 9 p.m. through the windows of my room above the tower. Just an ordinary display of nature's fireworks, but how grand they were! as the vivid flashes shot like rockets in every direction through the overheated atmosphere of a summer in the Southern Hemisphere. Meantime, Mr. Jardine had received a letter from a Mr. Treherne, a friend of his residing in Buenos Aires, saying he purposed coming up to Monte Video for a little rest and change, and that if it were possible he should very much like to see him. Thereupon, he at once wrote inviting him to come and spend a few days at La Esperanza, and he asked him to fix his own day to travel to San José in the diligence, and to let us know, so that we might send in to meet him. Accordingly word came to expect him on February 4th, so I went in with a boy, mounted on a chestnut, and a nice little grey horse belonging to the estancia, and "Carnival" to welcome him. I also had a little business to arrange at the Policia, and I wanted if possible to have a short interview with the chief of police. So we started just before three o'clock, arriving at the Hotel Oriental not long before the diligence was expected. When it came it brought Mr. Treherne with it. He was rather a delicate-looking man, getting on towards fifty, his hair fast turning grey, and with the manner of the student rather than the man of affairs. He had only brought light luggage in a pair of canvas saddle bags, which the boy could easily sling across his "recado." I got him a comfortable bedroom at the hotel, and a smaller one for myself. We then had dinner. At eight o'clock next morning, I went to the police station, transacted my business, and before leaving was fortunate in obtaining ten minutes' conversation with the chief of police, a tall, grizzled-looking man, who was, however, very courteous, and polite. I had two or three small commissions to attend to for Mrs. Jardine, and some medicine to get at the chemist's for John, and then, having partaken of coffee and bread and butter, we were all ready for a start at half-past nine. I asked Mr. Treherne which horse he would prefer to ride, "Carnival" or the grey. He preferred the former, and we were soon jogging along through the outskirts of the town. My companion was not much of a horseman, but "Carnival" knew his business, and carried him smoothly and easily along; he was fortunately very safe on his legs, and knew well how to pick his way over rough ground; indeed, all the rider need do was to sit quiet and hold the reins, for "Carnival" himself would do all the rest. Mr. Treherne expressed great pleasure at seeing Mr. and Mrs. Jardine again, telling them he had a capital journey, and that the beautiful air of the open country, as he rode along, had given him quite an appetite for luncheon. He was very fond of plants and flowers, and, indeed, something of a botanist as well. During his stay he expressed a wish to see the coastline and shores of La Plata, and said how greatly he would enjoy an expedition there some fine day, when it was not too hot. Mr. Jardine could not accompany him, but he asked me to do so, and we arranged for an early start, as the shore of the estuary lay a good long way beyond the furthest point of the estancia in that direction, so that going there and back made a certain distance to ride. I again offered him "Carnival," as he seemed to like him so much, and I rode a bay horse belonging to the estancia. When we got beyond our own camp we passed through a kind of open wood with thinly-scattered "tala" trees. These were not large, much in shape of a prickly shrub, although on or near the banks of a river these trees grew much larger, and their wood was greatly used both for fencing and firewood. As we progressed the soil got poorer, until at last we came to what were really sand-dunes. These were undulating, and of large extent, and as we passed along my companion noticed every here and there rather a deep dell, with shrubs growing in it. Here the sand was deep, so we dismounted and led our horses, and leaving his with me, and going down into one of these, he was surprised to find it quite bright with flowers, "Petunias," and "Lantana," whose improved relations, he said, were great favourites in English gardens. We then were able to remount our horses, and so proceeded slowly on to the shore of the Estuary de la Plata. Here the outlook was most attractive. Nothing, not even a sail, visible on the wide waters, shining like silver in the sunshine on that early summer afternoon. A wide expanse of sand like the sea-shore stretched east and west, golden in colour, and hard and firm to ride on. Bordering this, along the edge of the dunes, were a row of large cacti, the kind you see in flower-pots in England, but here ten to fifteen feet high, with beautiful crimson blossoms in full bloom, hanging in profusion on the edge of their pendant branches. Here we unsaddled and tied up the horses beneath their shade. I soon had a fire lighted to keep off the flies, and also to warm some coffee I had brought with us. Our luncheon, too, was welcome, and we enjoyed it greatly. After a rest and a smoke we again saddled up, and had a good gallop on the sands, which the horses seemed to enjoy every bit as much as we did. We returned by a somewhat different route, turning towards the river bank, and following it during the latter portion of our ride. When crossing the camp, I pointed out the patches of verbena, some scarlet and some white, which in places quite covered the short grass, looking very bright and pretty. We now kept close to the woods, but the undergrowth was too thick and tangled to allow anyone easily to get inside. Mr. Treherne was much interested to see quite large trees apparently covered with flowers, but on nearer approach he found they did not belong to the tree itself, but were the blossoms of a creeper, which completely enveloped it. Some of them were quite brilliant in colour, in marked contrast to the festoons of grey lichen moss, which hung from other trees in close proximity. He dismounted and succeeded in getting some semi-tropical orchids, which it gave him pleasure to take back with him. We were also fortunate in seeing a family of the "carpincho," or water-pig; a mother and her little ones. They were a pretty brown colour, with thick, somewhat bristly coats, in form like a large guinea-pig, with short legs, and webbed feet. On hearing us they all sprang into the river, and swam hurriedly away, their heads only showing above the water. When taken young they make rather amusing pets, and become very affectionate and domesticated, though at the same time they will occasionally go down and join their wild companions for a swim in the river, provided it be near enough, returning back to the house afterwards. The summer's day was drawing to its close as we rode up to the estancia, unsaddled the horses, and let them go. When Mr. Treherne took his departure I lent him "Carnival," and accompanied him to San Josè. We arrived during the afternoon and, as I had some business to attend to, I left him at the hotel to rest after his ride. I also took the opportunity of calling upon Colonel Gonzales, who was then in residence at a house he owned in the town. A tall, aristocratic-looking man, descended from one of the old Spanish families, who had originally colonised Uruguay, he was now a widower with two daughters, the Señoritas Augusta and Isabella. The former resembled her father, having a somewhat pensive expression, a clear, pale complexion, and dark hair. She had a quiet, gentle manner, and her sister was wont to describe her as "muy religiosa" (very religious). She herself, on the contrary, was vivacious, and amusing, with brown hair and a bright complexion. I was accorded a kind and friendly reception by the colonel, who said he hoped when again in the town I should not fail to come and see them. Soon after I got back to the hotel we saw the arrival of the diligence from Paysandû; this was always an event in the day, and it was timed to start before six o'clock next morning for Monte Video. The horses were quickly taken out, and the passengers emerged, weary and hungry, and entered the hotel. Then dinner was served, when we were fortunate in securing a small table beside one of the large windows opening on the street to ourselves. We then had some coffee and a cigarette, and afterwards walked out to listen to the band which played in the "plaza" when the evening was warm enough. The musicians occupied a small stand in the centre, around which the audience walked on a wide path, or sat about on seats or chairs, as seemed most convenient. Just opposite to the "plaza" stood the Cathedral. The moon was shining brightly, and here and there an officer in uniform, or some other "caballero" in close attendance upon a Señorita wearing the very becoming "mantilla," added to the picturesqueness of the scene. Returning to the hotel, we went to bed, for we had to be up early in the morning, when I duly saw Mr. Treherne, together with his belongings, take his seat in the diligence, and with many thanks for the little I had been able to do for him, he bid me farewell, saying he hoped at some future time he might have the pleasure of seeing me again at his home in Buenos Aires. Among the usual loud exclamations and cracking of whips, the diligence then started, and was soon out of sight in a cloud of dust, as it rolled and swung forward on its long journey. I then mounted "Carnival" and led a bay horse I had been riding, and although travelling somewhat slowly, reached the estancia a little before ten o'clock. During the next week I received a letter from the wounded Colonel Antonio Martinez, saying he had taken office in the new Blanco Government, and was now living in Monte Video. He gave me his new address, and told me that if he could do anything for me, and I would write and let him know, it would give him great pleasure. I accordingly wrote and thanked him for his letter and his kind thought, and told him I was no longer living at the Cerro del Pichinango, but was now at La Estancia Esperanza, some six leagues distant from the town of San Josè. Thereupon, shortly afterwards, I received another letter from him, saying he had a great friend, Don Carlos Mendoza, the recently appointed "Gefè Politico" (or Governour of the Department), and that he had written to give me an introduction to him, and to say that he had asked me to call upon him at his residence in San Josè the next time I happened to find myself in the town. I wrote and thanked him, expressing my gratitude, and saying it would give me great pleasure to avail myself of an opportunity which he had been so very good as to propose. We were now getting well on towards the end of March, and the weather was much cooler, but fine and pleasant, as is so often the case during the early autumn. About ten days later, two young brothers, Elliott by name, turned up at La Esperanza, about an hour before sundown. They were riding out from Monte Video to a small estancia belonging to a friend in the province of Colonia. They had a peon with them, who was leading an extra horse, and who was also engaged to act as guide, and they had ridden on that day from an estancia about twelve leagues distant, inside where they had been put up for the night, such being in these old-fashioned times a very common custom when travelling through the country. Seeing that they hailed from across the border, and that Don Alejandro and Mr. Jardine both happened to know something of their people at home, they were not only made welcome for the night, but were invited to stay until the beginning of the week following, so that they could rest their horses, see something of the estancia, and then proceed on their journey. They were in appearance one very like the other, with fair hair, blue eyes, and youthful, rosy, complexions. They had only lately landed in Monte Video, and after learning farming for a couple of years in the south of Scotland, had come out to Uruguay, having between them a moderate capital, with the intention of renting land, purchasing sheep and cattle, and so setting up as estancieros in a small way. There was only apparently about two years difference in their age; indeed, it would be difficult to surmise which was the elder. They had come out full of ideas and of hope for the future, being but little aware that the experience they might have had on the land at home would be of but little use to them in Uruguay, seeing what kind of a country it then was. But they were evidently a pair of cheery happy-go-lucky young fellows, and as I looked at them at dinner, and listened to their pleasant and interesting conversation, I could not help wondering what was destined to be their future. That evening, it was a Thursday, we were all smoking in the dining-room, when the talk turned upon the native method of taming young horses. Not thinking of its being taken seriously, I happened to say that I should not mind mounting a "potro," but I dare not say how long I should stay on his back. "Bravo! Don Guillermo," said Don Alejandro, with a laugh, "you shall mount one. We will have one tied up to-morrow afternoon, and you shall give him his first gallop on Saturday morning." I felt somewhat disconcerted, but did not like to draw back, and so it was arranged, and not long afterwards we all retired to rest. Accordingly, a portion of the "manada" was driven up into the corral, and with them was a colt, which must have been nearly six years old, of a muddly roan colour, with a flowing mane and tail, which had seldom come up before, having never been touched since he was marked late as a foal. A lasso was quickly thrown round his neck, and another round his hind legs, and falling helpless to the ground, a halter was put over his head and made fast with a stout thong of hide to a firm post. This would be about an hour before sundown, and here he had to remain during the night. This rough and ready treatment in handling a colt was quite a novelty to the two young men, who had never even imagined anything of the sort, and I feel sure they were looking forward with both interest and amusement to his having his first gallop on the next morning. I looked him over as he was being tied up, and came to the conclusion he was probably a bit of a tartar, although, as is well-known, appearances are often deceptive. Of course, the news of what was to happen became known, and about ten o'clock on Saturday morning, nearly everyone seemed on the look-out to see me start off. When we came to fix my "recado" he gave but little trouble, although I noticed he seemed sulky, with a nasty sullen look out of the corner of his eyes. He was now led away outside the buildings, where all four legs were tied together by a long hide thong, in such a manner that by giving one pull it all became instantly undone and fell to the ground. I now mounted, Ramon Duran coming on his horse alongside as "padrino," to accompany me, and help to guide the horse. A native pulled loose the leg-ropes, and I was at last ready for a start. The colt stood still a moment, wondering what had happened, and then made a violent plunge forward and started buck-jumping with all his might. He seemed to bend himself almost double, with his head and legs nearly touching underneath. I sat on for a time, while the bucking process continued, and then he threw me clean over his head, but I fell clear of him, and at once got up from the ground, none the worse for the fall. After getting my breath, I got on him again, with Ramon Duran close alongside me, but he again started buck-jumping, even more violently than before. I kept my seat until I felt my legs quite numb with the continued strain, and then I suddenly let loose the slight hold I had and came off a yard or two away on my feet. So I felt comforted; for this, even among the Indians, did not count as a fall. Ramon said he was "un diablo ungobernable" (an ungovernable devil), and urged me not to mount him again, but so soon as my legs had regained their feeling I persisted in doing so. This time he tried it on, but not so severely, and I managed to hold tight, punishing him at the same time with my "rebenque," or hide whip. I thus got him into a gallop straight ahead, Ramon following as close as he could behind, and with the open camp in front of me, I kept him at it until he completely succumbed, and in fact would now go any way I wished. For the moment he had enough, and I rode him back to the estancia, past the buildings and the people, who had gathered to see the fun, right up in front of the house. I received quite a small ovation, it was anyway very much more than the occasion deserved. I then dismounted, and the colt was collared to a mare, so that he could feed, and be got hold of easily again when wanted. The two Mr. Elliotts, who I am sure were very good-natured, both told me how pleased they were I had come to no harm, thanking me, and saying that what they had seen was quite a revelation to them. The end of it was that they all drank my health that evening at dinner, and next morning Mr. Jardine instructed the carpenter to cut out a round medal from a piece of lead with my initials on it, which was duly presented to me. Indeed, I believe I possess it somewhere or other to this day. On Monday morning the Elliotts resumed their journey towards Colonia, having, I am sure, enjoyed their little visit, and we all felt pleased to have been able to entertain them. The autumn had now come, and Mr. Jardine was beginning to think about his shooting, and looking over the guns and ammunition. The season had been a favourable one, partridges, or rather quail, were already getting into good condition, and it would not be long before the duck-shooting commenced. In shooting "quail," the custom was for two or three sportsmen to walk in a line, about fifty yards apart, and so catch the birds as they rose in front of them from the long grass, where they lay concealed. They were fairly plentiful, and, if the birds rose well, as they often did, afforded good sport, although to make a good bag often involved a fair amount of walking. Don Alejandro was fond of shooting, besides being well above an average shot. I sometimes made up a third and, although the same could certainly not be said of me, yet sometimes I was more successful than I had any reason to expect. Mr. Jardine liked to shoot two or three days a week during the winter, so that opportunity to improve was not lacking. The quail, although inferior both in size and flavour to an English partridge, were a pleasant change of diet, and made an excellent curry, both for breakfast or dinner, a dish which was always much appreciated. A few days later, poor little Peter contracted a somewhat severe chill, and as on the next day he seemed worse rather than better, and his mother was anxious about him, I offered to ride in to San José to get him a supply of medicine, and also to execute some other little commissions which were needed, so I saddled up "Carnival" soon after mid-day and reached the town a little before four o'clock. I finished the shopping I had to do, and then took the opportunity of making my call upon Don Carlos Mendoza, the new Gefè Politico at his town residence, facing the "plaza," or square. On reaching the house, I sent in my name, and was at once admitted. Don Carlos received me in his own room, and as I entered rose to greet me, and expressed his pleasure at making my acquaintance. He was a short man, apparently about forty years of age with an alert manner, and a very pleasant expression. "Colonel Antonio Martinez wrote to me about you," he said with a smile. "He is 'muy amigo mio,' 'a great friend of mine,' and is now holding a rather important appointment in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs." After a few minutes' conversation, he took me into the "sala," where he presented me to his Señora, a stately-looking lady, who, I afterwards learned, was a member of one of the oldest Spanish families in Monte Video. Five minutes later a pretty-looking girl, who might be about fourteen, entered the room. The Señora said, "This is my daughter, Carmen, and I have a son Alfonso, who is younger, and is now away at school." Don Carlos appeared to be well-acquainted with Europe, having been educated in Paris and Madrid, and both he and his wife had paid more than one visit to the French Riviera. The Señora asked me how I liked South America, and I told her very much, but added, "You see this is the only year of peace I have known since I came out from England, three years and a half ago." Meanwhile, coffee and cakes were brought in, and some delicious liqueur, and half an hour later I made my adieux. Don Carlos said I must certainly call and see them again, and asking me if I was a smoker remarked, "Here is a cigar from Habana for you," and accompanying me to the door, shook hands, saying, "Hasta la vista, Señor" (until we meet again). On reaching the hotel, I had some dinner, and much enjoyed the Habana cigar, which I knew to be too good a one to light and smoke in the open street. I went early to bed, with the request that they would call me at sunrise next morning. This they did, having also prepared me some coffee. So I saddled up "Carnival," and reached the estancia just before nine o'clock. I was pleased to hear from Mr. Jardine that Peter was better, having fortunately passed a good night. One afternoon I and Ramon Duran had ridden down to look up some cattle not far from Beatty's puesto. As we were returning he told me there was a big dun-coloured bull, not bearing the estancia mark, which for some time had taken up his abode among the "tarlas," at the far end of the camp, within easy reach of the river bank. He made a constant disturbance among our cattle, his object no doubt being to cut some of them off, and so get control over them, and then form a small point of his own. Ramon suggested that we should lasso him and kill him, and so get rid of the nuisance once and for all. He asked if I would like to go down and assist, and I said I should very much. However, we came to the conclusion it would be better to have three horsemen for the job, so the matter remained for the moment in abeyance. The next day he told me he had seen Robert Mackie, a young Scotchman, who had come out to Uruguay as a boy, and was already something of a camp man, accustomed to lassoing on the "rodeo," and working amongst cattle, who wished to join us in our little adventure. He, moreover, described him as "un joven muy guapo," "a very capable youth," so it was agreed we should all three go in search of the bull on Saturday afternoon. Ramon was to ride his favourite "picaso" (a black horse, with a white blaze and two white hind fetlocks), while Mackie would saddle up a "moro" (or blue roan), which he often rode, as it was well-trained, and a first-rate horse at that kind of work. I was to ride my "rosillo," so we were all to be well-mounted. Our first idea had been that if we came across the bull we should all three try and get round to the far side of him, with the object of driving him in among a point of our own cattle, but on consideration we determined to approach him from the direction we were ourselves riding, and then by acting quickly and suddenly, try and get a lasso round him before he had time to reach his favourite woods. We were riding quietly along, when we made out the bull standing feeding by himself, quite a long distance inside the camp, and away from the woods, whereupon we widened out our line into a kind of semi-circle, Ramon being on the left, with Mackie in the centre, while I took the right, so that we might approach as near to him as possible without causing any alarm. This method seemed to answer for, as it happened, we managed to get closer up to him than we had any reason to expect. Suddenly, however, up went his head, and he saw us coming, when he immediately made off as fast as he could. We then followed at full gallop, and Mackie, who was in the centre, pushed ahead of Ramon and myself, for the "moro" was a fast horse, and his rider both young and eager. Running his horse close up behind the bull, he threw his lasso, the loop of which, instead of going round the horns of the animal, as it should have done, passed over his head and round his neck, thus giving the bull a much greater power of purchase than he would otherwise have had. Then a most unfortunate thing happened. Mackie had his foot out of the stirrup on the lasso side, which was not by any means unusual, but he also had his leg rather far forward, and as the coils of the lasso went out swiftly, owing to the speed at which the bull was now running, one of them caught his right leg, entangling it just below the knee. It was now a question of speed between the horse and the bull, with a man's life hanging in the balance. Ramon and I could do nothing, for if either of us pressed forward we should only help to increase the speed of the bull. So we both slowed down, edging off one to the left and the other to the right, which was the only thing to do. Fortunately, the "moro" rose to the occasion. He never made a mistake, in spite of the ground being rough and uneven, but shooting forward at an increased speed, he enabled Mackie to get his leg free from the coil of the lasso, and so saved the situation. Ramon had called to Mackie to take out his knife from its sheath and cut the lasso, but when he put his hand behind him both knife and sheath had fallen from his belt during the gallop. Now Mackie was able to bring purchase, with his lasso, to bear upon the bull, who was also by this time getting a bit pumped, and compelled to slacken his speed, so that in a couple of hundred yards more he was able to bring him to a standstill. Ramon now came up and threw his lasso round the bull's hind legs, when both the lassos straining at the same time, and in opposite directions, the bull, now completely mastered, was compelled to fall helpless to the ground. Ramon then dismounted his "picaso," still carefully keeping up the strain of the lasso, as a good horse is trained to do, and taking out his knife from his belt gave the bull his "coup de grâce." Mackie and Ramon were not long in taking off the hide, which they slung across the back of the "moro," behind Mackie's recado, when we returned quietly to the estancia, reaching it just after five o'clock. Winter had now come, bringing with it continued bad weather, accompanied by cold winds and constant showers of heavy rain. This went on more or less until the third week in June, when it cleared up; but the beginning of July ushered in rain heavier than before, the river overflowed its banks, and low-lying land was mostly covered with water. Fortunately, at La Esperanza, there was plenty of higher ground for stock to feed on, for the constant rain day after day, so filled the "banyados," usually quite small pieces of water, that they developed into something much more like an inland sea, flooding all the surrounding land for a foot deep, and in some places even more. The cattle were well able to look after themselves, but as the floods increased considerable care was necessary to keep the sheep from being surrounded by water, for when danger threatens they are stupid animals, easily frightened, and apt to get drowned. The bad weather continued until the middle of July, moderating during the third week, although still very unsettled. However, on the morning of the twenty-fifth, I started to ride to Colla, to receive a considerable sum of money which was owing to the estancia. Mr. Jardine wished me to take his "rosillo alazan" (or chestnut roan), a good horse, above the ordinary height, which he said would help to keep me out of the mud. The morning was fine, and I made an early start, for I wished to reach my destination without delay. Instead of using my "recado," I put the saddle which had been given as a prize at the Christmas race on the "rosillo," this being the kind to which he was accustomed. The river alongside the estancia had mostly run down, but when I reached the "Cufré," I found it more or less in flood. As, however, the water only reached up to the flaps of the saddle, I got across quite dry, always a comfort when travelling on horseback. The horse carried me well, and I reached Colla about three o'clock in the afternoon, the track being less soft and slippery than I expected. I put up at the Hotel de la Paz (Hotel of Peace), and then went out to receive the sum of money for which I had come. It was all in paper notes, some of them very dilapidated, and I was obliged to look them over carefully to assure myself they were all good currency. This reminded me of a little incident which had once happened to me when paying an account. The man receiving it was a native in good circumstances, but he could neither read or write. As I handed over a bundle of notes to him he said, "El buey es bueno pero la oveja no vale por nada," "The bullock is good, but the sheep is worth nothing," referring to the pictures of the animals printed on the notes I was about to pay him. To him nothing else mattered. Having given a receipt for the money, I rolled up the notes and put them into the large pockets of my carpincho skin belt, and when I got into the street, I took out my revolver, just to see that it was all right. I then returned to the hotel to see my horse was comfortable, had some supper, and went early to bed. It was then fine, with a young moon shining brightly, but I had not long got off to sleep when I was awakened by a loud banging and knocking at my door. Thinking it might be someone come after the money, I first got hold of my revolver, before going to see, but it was nothing more than a visitor who had been drinking too much wine and failed to find his proper bedroom. It somehow seemed to me that the name of the hotel did not clearly describe its character. I awoke to find the sky dull and cloudy, and a very cold wind blowing from the south. I succeeded in getting some hot coffee, with bread and butter. I then saddled up, paid my bill, and made a start. When I got away from the town, I found the track very muddy and slippery. The "rosillo" was a good horse, who could pick his way carefully, and I was obliged to travel slowly. As I passed along, the country on either side looked dreary and desolate. Such cattle as I saw stood grouped with their backs to the cold wind, while the sheep were mostly huddled together, their fleeces wet and sodden with the rain. When I reached the river Cufré, I found the water high and swollen, having evidently come down a good deal during the night. I entered it as far up the bank as the pass would permit, so as to leave me as much room as possible to land on the other side, in case the water should be deeper in the middle than I expected. This turned out to be the case, for my horse lost his feet for a moment, gave a violent plunge, and I got wet through right up to my waist. However, he was not really nervous, and recovering himself, succeeding in making a landing a little lower down, so that we both reached the opposite side with nothing worse than a bit of a ducking. My first thought was about the money. My "carpincho" skin belt, which contained it was, of course, having been under water, soaked through and through; it was all in paper notes, many of them much worn and dilapidated, and I knew if I left them where they were they would soon turn into pulp, and become quite worthless. Moreover, to make things worse, it all of a sudden commenced to rain. Looking round, about half a mile distant on some higher ground to the right, I saw what appeared to be a small place belonging to a native. There were only two or three mud ranchos, with half a dozen poplar trees standing near them, but from one of the low chimneys I saw smoke rising. I thereupon determined to make straight for it, and see if I could get permission to dry the notes by the fire. It was not a very pleasant idea, as I was, of course, quite ignorant as to who might be inside, and my revolver, in case I were attacked for the sake of the somewhat large sum of money I carried, was now probably useless, owing to having been so saturated with water. However, I made up my mind to take the risk, and rode up. A dog barked loudly as usual, and a dark, middle-aged woman came to the door. I told her what had happened, and asked permission to dry the notes, saying I should be glad to pay for the use of the fire. To this she kindly agreed; indeed, from her manner I thought she seemed sorry for the plight in which I found myself. "You seem very wet, Señor," she said, "would you not like to dry some of your clothes as well?" I thanked her, but declined, saying they did not matter, as I wished to continue my journey without unnecessary delay, but I asked if I might lay my revolver down by the side of the fire as I feared it might be a bit damp, in case I should happen to need it before reaching home, for I had a good long way to go, and it might get dark. She smiled at this, and said I was fortunate to have come up to the house when I did, for only half an hour before three native Gauchos had ridden away, all fully armed, and two of them, she remarked, would murder anyone with any money as soon as look at them, for they were notorious bad characters, and had been in the hands of the police more than once already, supposed to have been connected with something of the kind. While she was talking, I succeeded in getting the notes fairly dry, and rolled them up in my pocket handkerchief, and placed them carefully in the large inside breast pocket of my jacket which, however, was scarcely big enough to hold them, but I was able to manage it by packing them tightly together, and now they were once more dry this did not matter. I realised it would have been more prudent to have done this before I entered the river. One is always apt to think of things only when it is too late! I thanked the woman for what she had done for me, and gave her a small present. "Muchas gracias Señor y adios" (many thanks, Sir, and good-bye). "Keep a sharp look-out on anyone you may happen to meet," she said, as I remounted and rode away. Fortunately, the rain had now ceased, and even a gleam of cold and fitful sunshine seemed every now and then to struggle to make itself felt at the edge of a heavy cloud. The track was extremely muddy, and slippery, but the "rosillo" took it all in good part, for he well knew he was going home. When we came to our own river, next to the estancia, I found it considerably higher than on the previous day, but we managed to get across all right, and I rode up to the house as the cold afternoon was passing, and the winter light was just beginning to fade. One morning at breakfast, early in August, Mr. Jardine told us he had heard from Mr. Herbert Fraser, and his brother Frederick, two young Englishmen, now staying in Monte Video, where they had broken their journey for a time, their intention being to go on by sea to Valparaiso, through the Straits of Magellan. They had brought letters of introduction to him from England, and he proposed to invite them out to La Esperanza for a short visit, so that they might have a little shooting. They arrived during the week following by diligence at San José, and the carriage was sent in there to bring them on to the estancia. They brought their own guns and cartridges with them, and seemed keen about sport. They were the type of young men with ample means to be found travelling for pleasure, not quite knowing at any particular time what they would do next. The morning after they arrived we drove in the wagonette to the end of some large swamps, on one side of the estate, with a boy in attendance to look after the horses, and on reaching the first lagoon we sent the Frasers to the further end, Mr. Dampier and I wading among the reeds along either side, with two men in the centre acting as beaters. The water generally did not come above our knees, but the thick weeds caused slow progress. There are three sorts of duck, the native names for which are the "picaso," the "baroso," and the "ovaro" duck. The first is the largest, with handsome black and white plumage, the "baroso" is a description of pintail, male and female being of a uniform brown colour, with yellow bills. The "ovaro" duck, known for its beautiful variegated plumage, is not nearly so common as the other two. It is also very wary, but when bagged is the best for the table. First rose half a dozen "picaso" ducks, and Mr. Dampier and I each getting a shot, one fell to each barrel. Next came a brace of teal, both easy shots, which I missed badly, but my companion brought down his bird. A flight of "barosos" came flying cross ways, but wheeling round, passed over the heads of the Frasers at the farther end, who brought down three of them in first-rate style. A little further on a pair of swans rose hurriedly, out of range for us, but although a long shot, one fell to our friend's gun, tumbling into the water with a tremendous splash. We then shot over some grass land for partridge, walking in line and beating them up, and in less than two hours we bagged nine brace. We afterwards went on to two of the other lagoons, where we met with success, so we drove home well-contented with our day's sport. Among the larger birds the ostrich merits the first place. It is not a true ostrich, but a "rhea," and its feathers and plumes are comparatively but of small value. Of large waders, several species of herons are found. Storks and the little egret are common, while the rosy spoon-bill and flamingo, although very shy, are seen occasionally. There are two kinds of eagle, and many different species of hawk. Snipe are plentiful during the winter months, being found in swampy lagoons and small streams; they are usually fat, and excellent eating. There are two kinds of teal, a blue and a brown, both of which are abundant. Golden plover and sandpipers abound, and as you ride along the spur-winged plover, or "pteru-pteru" rises with its shrill cry, and wheels round and round over one's head. Quite a number of small birds inhabit the country, and the plumage of some of them is very beautiful. There is the scissor-bird, with its curious tail; the oven-bird, which will make a round nest of mud, often as large as a man's head, on the top of a gatepost, quite close to a house where people are constantly passing; and others, with all the varying shades of yellow and black. Large flocks of the small green grey-breasted parakeet take up their abode in the woods, and make the whole place resound with their chatterings. A species of wood-dove is also very common, and affords good sport. Amongst the numerous spiders is the "tarantula," which is alarming, and its bite venomous, also another equally large grey spider, which is very pugnacious, and will jump up at you when disturbed. There is also a minute insect of the nature of a harvest-bug, called the "bicho colorado" (or red insect), which abounds during hot weather in summer, but disappears during the winter, and when the temperature is cold. It is a great nuisance, burying itself in one's skin, and causing great itching and irritation, and often producing sores on the human body by no means easy to heal. Mosquitos and flies of course are numerous, particularly near woods, and especially near water. There are several kinds of snakes, amongst them the coral snake, which is venomous, and a pretty little green snake, which hangs by its tail from the branches of a tree, so exactly like the green pod of a flowering creeper that it is difficult to tell one from the other. The Frasers stayed a fortnight at La Esperanza, getting several days' good shooting. They then returned to Monte Video, apparently well pleased with their visit. September had now come, the sunny spring-time of the Southern Hemisphere. It was more than a year since I left the Pichinango, and I made up my mind to return to England. When I bade good-bye to Mr. Treherne at San José, he told me to be sure and write and let him know whenever I should think of doing so, as he thought it would be a great pity were I to leave South America without seeing Buenos Aires. So I wrote him a letter to say I should be leaving La Esperanza towards the end of the month, with the intention of taking my passage in some steamer, leaving shortly for Europe. About ten days later, I received a reply suggesting that I should pay him a few days' visit at his quinta, (or villa, with a garden), situate in the then outskirts of Buenos Aires, and fix the day of my arrival just as I might find to be most convenient. I wrote at once to say what pleasure it gave me to take advantage of his kind proposal, promising to write again when I could tell him exactly when I hoped to arrive. He also mentioned that the S.S. "Dido" would be leaving Buenos Aires on or about October 11th, in case I should think her a likely ship to suit me. On the Monday following I rode "Carnival" in to San Josè, and I took the opportunity to call again upon Don Carlos Mendoza, whom I was fortunate enough to find at home. We had some interesting conversation as to the prospects of the new Blanco Government, and the future of the country, and when we parted he expressed the hope that some day or somewhere he might have the pleasure of seeing me again. He was a nice man, and gave me the impression of being intellectual and cultivated, and I felt very glad to have had the pleasure of making his acquaintance. Colonel Gonzales and his two daughters were away paying a visit to their estancia. I got back in good time next morning, for "Carnival" carried me well. He was a good, reliable horse, and I felt sorry to think my rides on him were so soon to come to an end. I now fixed up my plans for departure, and wrote again to Mr. Treherne that I expected to leave La Esperanza on Tuesday, September 28th, for San Josè, go on from there by diligence to Monte Video, and travel by what was known as the river steamer, on the last evening of the month, arriving at Buenos Aires early the following morning. The first thing I did was to send my "rosillo," whom I had with me during the war, back again to the Pichinango, where for some years he led a pleasant, easy life, and ultimately died at a good old age Mr. Jardine said he should like to have "Carnival," and that he would take good care of him. For this I was glad, for I felt sure the horse would suit him in every way. I gave my dog "Napoleon" to Ramon Duran, who promised to treat him well. He was first-rate with cattle, and I wished him to go where he would be appreciated. Meanwhile, I sent my luggage to the Hotel Oriental in a cart which was going out to San Josè, keeping only what I could easily carry on horseback. When the day came to say good-bye, I thanked them all for their kindness and for having done so much to make my stay at La Esperanza such a pleasant one. Early in the afternoon I saddled up the grey, taking a boy on another horse with me to bring him back. And so ended a year which will always be to me a very enjoyable recollection. It was a fine afternoon, and as we rode quietly along the sun felt quite warm, so that we did not reach the hotel until just about five o'clock. I found my belongings there waiting for me, and not long afterwards the diligence arrived from Paysandu. It had come in somewhat earlier than usual, for the roads were now good, and probably the team of horses which were being quickly taken out, were better than usual. Immediately afterwards dinner was served. I chose a quiet seat, and sat on for a while just to smoke a contemplative pipe with my coffee, and to ponder over the events of the day. I had been very happy at La Esperanza, and one cannot help feeling regret when an agreeable time has come to an end. I then went to bed, instructing them to call me the first thing in the morning. I was up betimes, and able to see the boy start back to the estancia with the horses, and also to see to my things before the horses were harnessed up to the diligence, and all ready for a start. There were only half a dozen passengers, so there was plenty of room, and we rolled and rumbled along much as we had done now nearly four years previously, when I went out to Guaycoru to stay with my friend, Robert Royd, at Las Sierras de Mal Abrigo, little knowing all that lay before me. When we reached Monte Video, I made my way to the Hotel Oriental, feeling somewhat weary and tired, but a good sleep was all that was needed to make me feel completely restored. I had a little business to attend to during the day, and the late afternoon found me on board the river steamer, soon about to get under weigh, with her bows heading in the direction of Buenos Aires. It was more or less a twelve hours' run, and I came on deck next morning to find we were just about to let go our anchor; although still some distance from the shore. There were various methods of landing at the port of Buenos Aires in the good old days. The big ocean steamers lay at anchor in the estuary, from eight to ten miles distant from the land. Passengers were passed first into a tug, then into an open boat, whence they sometimes had to be shifted into a cart; indeed, it was not uncommon to carry them ashore on men's backs. However, a small steam launch came alongside and took the passengers aboard, afterwards transferring us to an open boat, so we reached the landing-place quite comfortably. I then got a carriage, which carried me and my belongings on to "Bella Vista," that being the name of Mr. Treherne's quinta. He came to meet me as I drove up, with a very kindly welcome and many enquiries after Mr. and Mrs. Jardine and all at La Esperanza. It was a roomy, comfortable house, with two wide verandahs, facing north and west. The garden was just entering upon its spring beauty, and would soon be a blaze of colour. The mimosa trees were just coming into flower, as also the paradise trees, with their purple blossom. That of the wistaria was already out, hanging in profusion all along the verandah, while a little further away was a long low hedge, thickly covered with "plumbago," and here and there a pomegranate. There were several kinds of palms and flowering cacti, and on the house itself was a magnificent magnolia, already covered with buds. The rose trees were an especial care, and some were even now beginning to flower. Moreover, there was provision for ample watering during hot weather. Breakfast was served at 11.30 in the wide verandah. Early in the afternoon my host took me into the town. I went first to the shipping office, and was afterwards to meet him at the "Strangers' Club," where he kindly said he would introduce me. I found the S.S. "Dido" to be a steamer of moderate size, bound for Antwerp, calling at Rio de Janeiro and Lisbon, and also at Southampton, to land her English passengers. She did not carry many, but hearing she was well-found, and reputed to be a good sea-boat, and finding a comfortable cabin was at disposal, I at once decided to take my passage in her. So the whole matter was easily settled. I found the "Club" very comfortable and well-arranged. Those who knew Buenos Aires at the time of which I write would indeed wonder at the beautiful city they would find to-day. The streets were then rough and ill-paved. The drainage was scanty and bad, and when it rained heavily the water poured like a torrent down the principal streets. But even then there were beautiful shops, and well-appointed carriages, with silver-mounted harness, so beloved of Spaniards, were quite a distinctive feature, and a great contrast to the rough and, uneven roads over which they were compelled to travel. The great net-work of railways which now traverses the republic was then a thing undreamed of, for the Buenos Aires Great Southern Railway, first among its fellows, then extended but a short way into the open country. Beyond it the wide "Pampas," the home of the roving Indian, with troops of wild mares, together with deer and ostrich, rolled into distance like waves of the sea, stretching one upon another far away into the great unknown. My visit proved agreeable, and I felt sorry when it came to an end. However, on Saturday, I was informed that the S.S. "Dido" had to pick up a late consignment of cargo at Monte Video, and would not leave Buenos Aires until late on Monday afternoon. Further, that the tug which was to take passengers on board, would leave the landing stage punctually at three o'clock, on October 11th. Mr. Treherne went with me to the place of embarkation, and we were both ready waiting there nearly half an hour before the appointed time. The tide was favourable, and there happened to be plenty of water. All was now ready to shove off, so I said good-bye to my host, with many thanks for his kindness, stepped on board the tug, and we at once got under weigh. The afternoon was beautifully fine as we hauled up alongside the steamer, which, her blue Peter flying at the fore, was due to reach Monte Video at daylight on the following morning. Dinner was served in the saloon at five o'clock. We were then steaming along in smooth water, so everything was steady. There were five passengers for Southampton besides myself. One of them, Mr. Philip Payne, took his seat beside me at table. He was a young man, perhaps a little older than I was, of middle height, with an active figure, with light brown hair, and grey eyes. I found out he was the son of a country clergyman and, after learning a little farming in England, had come out to South America with the well-known Henley Colony. When this undertaking, owing to Indian raids, and other circumstances, turned out to be a complete failure, he went round to Chile, through the Straits of Magellan, and at the end of the previous summer had come back again to Argentina, across the Andes, on mules, with a troop of Indians, then considered to be something of an adventure. When I came on deck next morning, a lighter, with cargo was already alongside, and the city of Monte Video lay glistening in the bright sunshine, much as I first saw it four years ago. I did not go ashore, for we were due to leave soon after mid-day, and the early afternoon found us again under easy steam, with a light breeze and a calm sea, and the ship's head pointing northwards. I now made the acquaintance of the other four passengers, a Mr. and Mrs. West, with their son Herbert, aged fourteen, and daughter Rose, a girl of ten. He told me he was an engineer by profession, and had come out to Argentina in delicate health, hoping the climate might benefit him, and that he might obtain suitable employment. Neither of these had been fulfilled, and I felt sorry to see him returning to England after a time which must have been to them one of disappointment. Mrs. West, too, looked anything but strong. Their son Herbert, was lame, having had a somewhat serious accident to his hip, but his parents hoped that if he went under proper treatment in England the difficulty would be overcome. Four days later, early in the morning, land was sighted, and by eight o'clock we were passing beneath the famous "Sugar Loaf," a high, conical-shaped hill, which guards the entrance to Rio de Janeiro. As we steamed slowly up to our anchorage the city lay to the left, its houses rising tier after tier up the hillsides, the whole overshadowed by the great "Corcovado," a mountain which lay behind. To the right the magnificent harbour, with many a beautiful island and many a beautiful bay, stretched some ten miles southward towards "Petropolis." We were not due to sail until evening, so Payne and I had ample time to go on shore. We first amused ourselves walking through the town and making some purchases at the famous feather flower shop in the Rua d'Ouvidor. We then took the tramway and drove out to see the wonderful Avenue of Palms, supposed to be perhaps one of the finest in the world. Gay plumaged birds were flying to and fro, and bright coloured butterflies were hovering hither and thither, as we slowly walked between the long line of beautiful trees, the lovely plumes of which, as they hung down in clusters, fairly shimmered in the hot sunshine of that early afternoon. We got back on board soon after four o'clock, both of us ready for a wash and brush up, and for dinner when the bell rang. The sun had already set as the S.S. "Dido" was fast getting clear of the land, and I stood on deck and watched the shadows of the distant mountains in the fading light, and I realised I was now taking my last look at South America. Four Brazilian passengers had embarked at Rio de Janeiro for Lisbon, for which port we had also taken in a certain amount of cargo. We had fine weather and a good voyage, sighting land on November 8th, and passing up the Tagus soon after nine o'clock. We let go our anchor lower down the river than we might have done, and at some distance from the town. Lighters at once came alongside to take off the cargo, and the four Brazilian passengers were landed in the agents' boat. All this took place with very little delay. Indeed, our captain wished to get to sea again as soon as possible. So neither Payne nor I thought it worth while to go ashore. We got under weigh soon after three o'clock, and it was not long before a thick fog came on, which compelled us to slow down. Later in the evening the fog grew thicker, so that the ship had to be stopped for a time, and all through the night we made very slow progress. The following day the fog came on again, even thicker than before, but cleared towards evening, so that we could proceed on our course something under half speed. The morning of Wednesday was again foggy, clearing towards the afternoon, but the sky remained heavy and overhung with thick cloud, so that no observation could be obtained, and the ship had be navigated only by dead reckoning. The West family seemed very depressed, but my friend and I were accustomed to difficulties, and we made ourselves as comfortable as circumstances would permit. The two following days the sun was again obscured by cloud, but we were able to go ahead full speed. On Saturday evening the captain considered we might be somewhere abreast of Ushant, but here we fell into what are known in the Channel as thick belts of fog. These are always very confusing and misleading, as the thick mist comes down like a curtain, enveloping everything, and rising and falling very rapidly. The ship had constantly to stop, and never could steam more than four knots an hour, and very often less. These conditions prevailed during Sunday, and we crept along gradually, as it were, feeling our way. Every precaution was taken, a sharp look-out was kept forward, a sailor being also stationed in the fore-top, while two men were continually in the chains, taking the depth of the water, and the foghorn was kept constantly going as well. About five o'clock, the dinner bell had just rung, Payne and I were standing by the port rail, looking over the side, near the after hatchway. A curtain of fog which had come thickly down was just lifting, when a cry rang out from the look-out forward, "Breakers ahead." Then came the order from the captain on the bridge, "_Hard a port!_" A second later the fog lifted further, and there alongside rose the precipitous rocky face of the "Bill of Portland." It looked almost as if you could throw a biscuit ashore. There was no wind, and the sea was gently lapping up against the base of the high cliff. Payne put his hand on my shoulder, "Look there," he said, "that is the place to swim for, where you see the grass growing down almost to the water's edge." In a moment it was all over, land and sea being once more completely enveloped in fog. Fortunately the ship had sufficient weigh on her to enable her to answer her helm, and she at once came round to starboard, when all danger was past. Mr. and Mrs. West were down in the saloon, and knew nothing of what had happened, nor did we either of us mention one word about it. We made slow progress during the night, but when daylight appeared, the sky was clear, and when I came on deck about nine o'clock, we were just about to pass inside the "Needles." We then steamed leisurely up the Solent, the tide was favourable, so that we got alongside the landing stage, and were able to go ashore soon after eleven. I then bid good-bye to my friend Payne, and having collected my belongings, got them conveyed to the railway station, where I took the first train to London, and so ended my experiences of "Old days among the Gauchos of Uruguay." THE END. +-----------------------------------------------+ | Transcriber's Note: | | | | Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the | | original document have been preserved. | | | | Title Page: The tilde over the u in Gauchos | | is represented like so: Ga[~u]chos | | | | Typographical errors corrected in the text: | | | | Page 22 soliders changed to soldiers | | Page 22 spoonsful changed to spoonfuls | | Page 29 knowledged changed to knowledge | | Page 59 Dr. changed to Mr. | | Page 67 lover changed to lower | | Page 68 fenecs changed to fences | | Page 70 attentiton changed to attention | | Page 71 somewhate changed to somewhat | | Page 76 Dcember changed to December | | Page 94 Nothting changed to Nothing | | Page 94 togethed changed to together | | Page 98 he changed to the | | Page 101 Gaiten changed to Gaitan | | Page 115 terrior changed to terrier | | Page 116 cartmen changed to cartman | | Page 116 believed changed to believe | | Page 120 th changed to the | | Page 135 is changed to in | | Page 136 in added between standing and each | | Page 146 workisg changed to working | | Page 150 wih changed to with | | Page 156 it in changed to in it | | Page 167 interefering changed to interfering | | Page 180 in added between growing and it | | Page 187 One changed to On | | Page 189 me changed to we | | Page 197 waggonette changed to wagonette | | Page 198 specie changed to species | | Page 203 allong changed to along | | Page 204 myslf changed to myself | +-----------------------------------------------+ 
42452	----	THE SOUTH AMERICAN SERIES URUGUAY _BY THE SAME AUTHOR_ ARGENTINA, PAST AND PRESENT. PORTUGAL: ITS LAND AND PEOPLE. MADEIRA OLD AND NEW. MODERN ARGENTINA. ETC., ETC. [Illustration: CATHEDRAL: MONTEVIDEO. Frontispiece.] URUGUAY BY W. H. KOEBEL AUTHOR OF "ARGENTINA, PAST AND PRESENT," "PORTUGAL: ITS LAND AND PEOPLE," ETC. WITH A MAP AND 55 ILLUSTRATIONS T. FISHER UNWIN LONDON LEIPSIC ADELPHI TERRACE INSELSTRASSE 20 MCMXI (_All rights reserved._) INTRODUCTORY NOTE The author has to tender his cordial thanks for the extreme courtesy and for the invaluable assistance rendered during his stay in the country by the Uruguayan officials, and by the British Minister Plenipotentiary, Mr. J. R. Kennedy. He is desirous of expressing the obligations under which he has been placed by Mr. C. E. R. Rowland, British Consul at Montevideo, for general assistance and information on the seal fisheries; Señor José H. Figueira, for the description of the aboriginal tribes; Señor Ramos Montero, for the commercial technicalities of the pastoral industry; and Mr. V. Hinde, for the paper on the British railways in Uruguay. Thanks are due to a number of British residents, both in Montevideo and the Campo, greater than it is possible to enumerate individually. The author would more especially acknowledge the courtesy of Messrs. Stapledon, W. J. Maclean, H. Hall-Hall, C. W. Baine, Temple, R. Booth, Piria, Adams, R. B. Harwar, L. L. Mercer, Warren, and J. Storm. Mr. R. A. Bennett, who accompanied the author for the purpose of photography, displayed an unremitting zeal that must be gratefully recognised. He is responsible for much of the information on Mercedes, the Swiss colony, and the frontier town of Rivera. CONTENTS CHAPTER I PAGE SURVEY 27 Geographical situation of the Republic--Boundaries and area--Uruguay as an historical, commercial, and financial centre--The respective positions of Uruguay and Paraguay--Disadvantages of a buffer State--A land of sunshine and shadow--The history of Uruguay--The blending of industry and warfare--Vitality of the nation--Instances of self-sacrifice--A South American Switzerland--A freedom-loving folk--Deeds of arms and the undercurrents of commerce--Montevideo in the eyes of the casual traveller--Factors that make for the progress of the Banda Oriental--Influence of railway--Coming cessation of the North American beef shipments-- Temperament of the Uruguayan--Distinction between Argentine and Uruguayan politics--The clans of the Banda Oriental--The birthright of party convictions-- Education in Uruguay--National points of honour--Liberty accorded the foreigner--The courtesy of officials--An incident at the customs-house--Popularity of the English--A gratifying situation--Satisfactory international relations--The work of Mr. R. J. Kennedy, the British Minister Plenipotentiary--Uruguay's pacific foreign policy--Careful finance--Army and navy--General progress of the nation. CHAPTER II HISTORY 37 The discovery of Uruguay--Reception by the Indians--Juan de Solis and his fate--Navigation of the River Plate-- Serrano and Magellanes--Rivalry between Spaniards and Portuguese--The first settlement in the Banda Oriental-- Aggressive tactics of the Indians--Forts destroyed by them--Colonisation under difficulties--The introduction of cattle--A prophetic move--Intervention of the missionaries--Jesuit settlements established--Uruguay's isolation comes to an end--Influence of the livestock-- Cattle-raiders--The first Portuguese invasion--Victory of the Spaniards, assisted by native auxiliaries--Treaties and their attendant troubles--The indecision of old Spain--Partial extermination of the Indians--The town of Colonia as a bone of contention--Introduction of the first negro slaves into the provinces of the River Plate--Unrest on the Spanish Main--Moreau, the buccaneer-- The fate of his expedition--Portuguese invaders expelled by the Spaniards--A fort is constructed on the present site of Montevideo. CHAPTER III HISTORY (_continued_) 48 Founding of the city of Montevideo--Its first inhabitants--Inducement offered to colonists--The early days of the town--Successful rising of the Indians in the neighbourhood--Victory of the natives--Montevideo saved by Jesuit intervention--The Portuguese invade the northern provinces--The first Governor of Montevideo-- Treaties and territorial cessions--Dissatisfaction of Jesuit Indians--Their defeat by combined Spanish and Portuguese forces--Vicissitudes of Colonia--The danger of hostile residents--A concentration camp of the old days--Expulsion of the Jesuits--Some incidents of the wars with the Portuguese--The foundation of urban centres--The English occupy themselves with the whaling industry on the coast--Discouragement of the enterprise by the King of Spain--A corps of "Blandengues" is created--The British invasion--Political effects of the occupation--The War of Independence--Montevideo as the seat of the Spanish viceroyalty--Commencement of the agitation for freedom in Uruguay. CHAPTER IV HISTORY (_continued_) 57 The advent of Artigas--First revolutionary movements in Uruguay--The appointment of leaders--First successes of the Uruguayans--The germs of future jealousies--Montevideo besieged by the patriot forces--An incident of the investment--Spain appeals to Portugal for assistance-- nvasion of Uruguay by the latter--The Buenos Aires Government concludes a treaty with the Spanish Viceroy-- Raising of the siege of Montevideo--Position of Uruguay-- Discontent of the Orientales--The exodus of the nation-- Incidents of emigration to the Argentine shore--Montevideo in Spanish hands--The country overrun by Portuguese--Buenos Aires effects a treaty with the latter--Resumption of the campaign against the Spaniards--Dispute between the Argentine and Uruguayan leaders--Montevideo again besieged-- Some battle incidents--Artigas reappears on the scene-- Drastic measures towards an ally--A national Congress convened--Oriental deputies rebuffed by Buenos Aires-- Artigas withdraws from the siege of Montevideo--Price set upon his head--War declared between Uruguay and Buenos Aires--The Argentine littoral provinces adhere to Artigas-- Fall of Montevideo. CHAPTER V HISTORY (_continued_) 69 Conclusion of Spanish rule--Situation of the victors-- Rival claims--Alvear defeats a Uruguayan force-- Montevideo remains in possession of Buenos Aires--Rural Uruguay supports Artigas--Alliance of the Argentine littoral provinces with the Orientales--Some intrigues and battles--Success of the Uruguayans--Departure from Montevideo of the Buenos Aires garrison--The Uruguayans enter into possession of their capital--Some crude methods of government--Trials of the inhabitants--Growth of Artigas's power--The Buenos Aires directors undertake a propitiatory measure--A grim human offering--Attitude of the Uruguayan Protector--Negotiations and their failure--The civil progress of Uruguay--Formation of departments--The Portuguese invade the country once again--Condition of the inhabitants--Fierce resistance to the invaders--A campaign against heavy odds--The Portuguese army enters Montevideo--War continued by the provinces--Invasion of Brazil by the Oriental forces-- Crushing defeats suffered by the army of invasion--Final struggles--The flight of Artigas--Uruguay passes under Portuguese rule. CHAPTER VI ARTIGAS 78 The human product of a turbulent era--Historical verdicts disagree--Opinions of Uruguayan and foreign historians-- High-flown tribute--The cleansing of Artigas's fame-- Prejudices of some local accounts--Uruguay at the time of Artigas's birth--Surroundings of his youth--Smuggling as a profession--Growth of his influence--His name becomes a household word--Artigas enters the Spanish service--The corps of Blandengues--Efficiency and promotion--Quarrel with the Spanish General--Artigas throws in his lot with the patriot forces--His success as a leader of men--Rank accorded him--Jealousy between Artigas and the Buenos Aires generals--Conflicting ambitions--The Portuguese invasion--Artigas leads the Oriental nation to the Argentine shore--The encampment at Ayui--Scarcity of arms and provisions--Battles with the Portuguese--The subalterns of Artigas--Otorgues and Andresito--Crude governmental procedure--Arbitrary decrees--The sentiments of Artigas--His love of honesty--Progress of the war-- Complications of the campaign--Artigas as Protector--The encampment of Hervidero--Revolting tales--The exaggeration of history--Artigas refuses honours--His proclamation-- Simple life of the Commander--Some contemporary accounts--The national treasury--Final desperate struggles against the Portuguese--Rebellion of Ramirez-- Fierce battles--Extraordinary recuperative power of the Protector--Final defeat of Artigas--Flight to Paraguay-- The Protector in retirement. CHAPTER VII HISTORY (_continued_) 97 The Spanish colonies as nations--The first-fruits of freedom--Uruguay beneath the heel of Portugal--The advent of a second liberator--Juan Antonio Lavalleja-- The forming of the league of the "thirty-three"--Opening of the campaign--The patriot force--Rank and its distribution--The crossing of the River Plate--Commencement of operations in Uruguay--A first success--Spread of the movement--Rivera embraces the patriot cause--The march upon Montevideo--A daring siege--How the army of occupation was deceived--Timely reinforcements--Lavalleja establishes an independent Government--Incident at the opening of the Senate--Argentina comes to the assistance of Uruguay-- Beginning of the rivalry between Rivera and Lavalleja-- Dissension in the Uruguayan army--Temporary disgrace of Rivera--His acquittal--Lavalleja declares himself dictator--Uruguay's independence acknowledged by Argentina and Brazil--The national authorities enter Montevideo. CHAPTER VIII HISTORY (_continued_) 107 Foreign war succeeded by internal chaos--Warriors as statesmen--The dictatorship of Lavalleja--His methods--The first open breach between Lavalleja and Rivera--A temporary reconciliation--Establishment of the Constitution of Uruguay--Lavalleja and Rivera candidates for the president's chair--Differences in the temperament of the two--Rivera is elected first President of Uruguay--Jealousies and intrigues-- Attack upon Rivera--Narrow escape of the President-- Lavalleja's party temporarily occupy Montevideo--Defeat of the insurgent general--His flight into Brazil-- Intervention of the Argentine dictator Rosas--His support of Lavalleja--Combined forces beaten by Rivera--Lavalleja's second attempt proves unsuccessful-- General Oribe succeeds Rivera as President--Lavalleja's party again in the ascendant--Rivera heads a revolution-- Civil war--Intervention of France--Resignation of Oribe-- Rivera elected President--His alliance with the French and Corrientinos--Declaration of war against Rosas--Defeat of the latter--On the withdrawal of the French Rosas resumes the aggressive--Severe defeat of Rivera and his allies of the littoral provinces--Oribe besieges Montevideo--The services of Garibaldi--The Uruguayan forces decimated--Further incidents of the war--The power of Rosas broken by Brazil, Uruguay, and Entre Rios. CHAPTER IX HISTORY (_continued_) 118 Condition of Uruguay at the conclusion of the war against Rosas--Measures for the relief of poverty-- Juan Francisco Giro elected President--The arising of antagonistic elements--Giro resigns in favour of Bernardo Berro--A revolution ends in the formation of a triumvirate--On the death of Lavalleja and Rivera, Flores becomes Dictator--Rebellion against his rule-- Brazil sends an army to the assistance of General Flores--Further revolutionary movements--Manuel Basilio Bustamente succeeds Flores--The policy of General César Diaz--His exile and return at the head of an army--Defeat and death of Diaz--Two interim Presidents-- Continuous civil war--General Flores enters the Republic in command of a strong force and is declared Dictator--The Paraguayan war--Causes of its outbreak--The policy and military strength of Paraguay--Strategic errors--Uruguay's share in the campaign--Flores returns to Montevideo from the seat of war--His assassination-- General Lorenzo Batlle elected President--The continuance of political unrest--Various presidents and dictators-- The Government of the present day--Don José Batlle y Ordoñez--Doctor Claudio Williman--The Uruguayan battlefields in tabular form--Progress of the land. CHAPTER X URUGUAYAN MANNERS AND CUSTOMS 128 The temperament of the Oriental--Some merits of the race--The Spanish Main as treated in fiction-- Distinctions between the villains in print and in actual life--Civility as a national trait--Courtesy of officials--The Uruguayan as a sturdy democrat--A land of equality--Some local mannerisms--Banquets and general hospitality--Some practical methods of enjoying life--Simplicity _versus_ ostentation--Some consequences of prosperity--The cost of living-- Questions of ways and means--European education and its results--Some evidences of national pride--The physique of the Oriental--Sports and games--Football-- The science of bull-fighting--Eloquence and the oratorical art--Uruguayan ladies--Local charm of the sex--South American institutions--Methods by which they have been improved--The advantages of experiments-- The Uruguayan army and navy--Some characteristics of the police--Honesty of the nation--Politics and temperament. CHAPTER XI ABORIGINAL TRIBES 138 The population of Uruguay prior to the Spanish conquest--Principal tribes--Paucity of information concerning the early aboriginal life--The Charrúas-- Warlike characteristics of the race--Territory of the tribe--Stature and physique--Features--The occupations of war and hunting--Temperament and mannerisms--A people on the nethermost rung of the social ladder-- Absence of laws and penalties--Medicine-men--A crude remedy--The simplicity of the marriage ceremony--Morality at a low ebb--The prevalence of social equality--Method of settling private disputes--The Charrúas as warriors-- Tactics employed in warfare--Some grim signals of victory--Treatment of the prisoners of war--Absence of a settled plan of campaign--Arms of the Charrúas--Primitive Indian weapons--Household implements--Burial rites--The mutilation of the living out of respect for the dead--Some savage ceremonies--Absence of religion--A lowly existence-- Desolate dwellings--Change of customs effected by the introduction of horses--Indian appreciation of cattle-- Improvement in the weapons of the tribe--Formidable cavalry--The end of the Charrúas--Other Uruguayan tribes--The Yaros--Bohanes--Chanas--Guenoas--Minuanes-- Arachanes. CHAPTER XII MONTEVIDEO 151 Population--Attributes of the city--Situation of the Uruguayan capital--The Cerro--A comparison between the capitals of Argentina and Uruguay--The atmosphere of Montevideo--A city of restful activity--Comparatively recent foundation--Its origin an afterthought--Montevideo in 1727--Homely erections--Progress of the town--Advance effected within the last thirty years--The Uruguayan capital at the beginning of the nineteenth century--Some chronicles of the period--The ubiquity of meat--Dogs and their food--Some curious accounts of the prevalence of rats--The streets of old Montevideo--Their perils and humours--A comparison between the butchers' bills of the past and of the present--Some unusual uses for sheep--Methods in which the skulls and horns of cattle were employed--Modern Montevideo--The National Museum--An admirable institution--Theatres--Critical Montevidean audiences--Afternoon tea establishments--The Club Uruguay--The English Club--British community in the capital--Its enterprise and philanthropy--The _Montevideo Times_--A feat in editorship--Hotels--Cabs and public vehicles--The cost of driving. CHAPTER XIII MONTEVIDEO 161 The surroundings of the capital--Pleasant resorts--The Prado--A well-endowed park--Colón--Aspects of the suburbs--Some charming _quintas_--A wealth of flowers and vegetation--European and tropical blossoms side by side--Orchards and their fruits--The cottages of the peasants--An itinerant merchant--School-children--Methods of education in Uruguay--The choice of a career-- Equestrian pupils--The tramway route--Aspects of the village of Colón--Imposing eucalyptus avenues--A country of blue-gum--Some characteristics of the place--Flowers and trees--Country houses--The Tea Garden Restaurant-- Meals amidst pleasant surroundings--An enterprising establishment--Lunch and its reward--Poçitos and Ramirez-- Bathing places of the Atlantic--Blue waters compared with yellow--Sand and rock--Villa del Cerro--The steam ferry across the bay--A town of mixed buildings--Dwelling-places and their materials--The ubiquitous football--Aspects of the Cerro--Turf and rock--A picturesque fort--Panorama from the summit of the hill--The guardian of the river mouth--The last and the first of the mountains. CHAPTER XIV FROM MONTEVIDEO TO THE NORTHERN FRONTIER 172 Leaving Montevideo--General aspects of the Campo--The Rio Negro as a line of demarcation--Growing exuberance of the scenery--Flor Morala--Blue lupin--Camp flowers--A sparsely populated countryside--Absence of homesteads--A soft landscape--Humble ranchos--Cattle and horses--Iguanas and ostriches--Deer--Cardoso--Influence of climate and marriage upon the colonists--A cheese-making centre--A country of table-lands--A Campo road--Some characteristics of the way--A group of riders--Some contrasts--A country of rocks--Stone walls--Crude homesteads--Kerosene tins as building material--Camp stations--The carpets of blossom--Piedra Sola--Tambores-- Landscape and nomenclature--Increase in the height of the table-lands--Scenes at a country station--Aspects of the inhabitants--Some matters of complexion--The train and its transformation--Influence of the country upon the carriages--Northern passengers--Metropolitan and local costume--Some questions of clothes and figure--Relations between mistresses and maids--Democratic households--A patriarchal atmosphere--Things as they seem, and as they are--Conversation no guide to profession. CHAPTER XV FROM MONTEVIDEO TO THE NORTHERN FRONTIER (_continued_) 183 A remarkable transformation in nature--The Valley of Eden--The gateway of the garden--An abrupt descent--From bare plain to sub-tropical forest--Picturesque scenery-- Eden station--Some curiosities of nomenclature--Beggary as a profession--The charity of the Latin lands--The cliffs of the valley--Varied aspects of the vegetation-- The everlasting sweet-pea--Some characteristics of the mountains--A land of tobacco--Negro cultivators--Appearance and dwellings of the coloured population--Some ethics of climate and costume--Tacuarembo--A centre of importance--A picturesque town--Scenes at the station--Some specimens of local humanity--A dandy of the Campo--The northern landscape--The African population--Nature and the hut--The tunnel of Bañada de Rocha--Paso del Cerro--On the Brazilian border--Rivera--A frontier town--Santa Ana--The Brazilian sister-township--A comparison between the two--View from a neighbouring hill--The rival claims to beauty of the Uruguayan and Brazilian towns. CHAPTER XVI HERE AND THERE IN URUGUAY 195 Uruguayan roads--A comparison with those of Argentina-- The benefits of stone--Some fine metalled highways--The road to San José--On the way to Pando--The journey as effected by motor-car--A smiling landscape--Distant sand-dunes--A spotless range--The mountains of Minas-- The town of Pando--A typical minor urban centre--The ending of the macadamised road--The track beyond--An abrupt change in the order of going--The bumps of the Campo--Piriapolis--A budding pleasure resort--Completeness of the enterprise--Eucalyptus forests--A vehicular wreck by the way--Unsuccessful Samaritans--The work of Señor Piria--The Castillo--An imposing home--View from the spot--The Pan de Azucar--A landscape of mountain, valley, forest, and sea--Architecture of the Castillo--Piriapolis Bay--A centre of future bathing--Preparations already effected--The hotel and casino--A wonderful feat of private enterprise--Afforestation--Encouragement of the industry by the Uruguayan Government--The work of Mr. Henry Burnett--The transformation of arid soil into fertile land--Commercial success of the venture--The Maldonodo sand-dunes--Fulgurites--A curiosity of the sands--Discoveries by Mr. C. E. R. Rowland. CHAPTER XVII MERCEDES AND THE SWISS COLONY 205 The journey to Mercedes--The outskirts of Montevideo-- Santa Lucia--A pleasant town--Native quince and gorse-- San José--The terminus of a great highway--Some feats of engineering--The urban importance of San José--A modern flour-mill--Mal Abrigo--Character of the soil--A country of boulders--Some animals of the Sierra de Mal Abrigo--The surroundings of Mercedes--A charmingly situated town--The terminus of the line--Some characteristics of Mercedes--Urban dwellings--The delights of the _patio_--The disadvantages of economy in space--Streets and plazas--The hospital--A well-equipped institution--View from the building--An island in the Rio Negro--The Port of Mercedes--River craft--Some local scenes--An equine passenger--Formidable gutters--The industries of the town--The Hôtel Comercial--Colonia Suiza--Situation of the Swiss Colony--Uruguayan Campo dwellings--Method of construction--Simplicity of household removals--Aspect of deserted huts--The houses of the Swiss Colony--Habits in general of South American colonists--The range of nationalities--Liberty accorded-- Population of the Colonia Suiza--Its industries--A dairy farming community--An important butter factory--An instance of a rapid rise from poverty to riches. CHAPTER XVIII COLONIA 215 An historical town--Rarity of mines in the River Plate countries--Specimens at Colonia--Situation of the town-- Past antagonism between the capitals of Argentina and Uruguay--Present aspect of Colonia compared with the former--A sleepy hollow--Periodical awakenings of the place--Impressions of the old town--Its colouring and compactness--Fortifications of the city of discord--A warlike history--Nations that have warred together at the spot--The reddest corner in a bloodstained land-- Surroundings of the town--Crumbling masonry--A medley of old and new--A Colonia street--Old-times scenes of peace and war--Some pictures of the past--Cannon as road posts--The Plaza--An episode in the wars with Portugal-- The eternity of romance--Real de San Carlo--A modern watering-place--Its buildings--The bullring--A gigantic pelota court--Popularity of the spot--A miniature tramway--Attractions of Real de San Carlo--Vegetation on the sands--A curious colour scheme--Pleasant lanes--Buenos Aires as a supplier of tourists. CHAPTER XIX THE URUGUAY RIVER 225 A great waterway--The river compared with the Paraná-- Some questions of navigation--The lower stretch of the Uruguay--The stream from Montevideo upwards-- Montevideo--The docks--An imposing array of Mihanovich craft--Breadth of the river--Aspects of the banks--Various types of vessels--The materials of their cargoes--The meeting of sister steamers--The etiquette of salutations-- Fray Bentos--The Lemco factory and port--A notable spot-- The Paradise of the eater--The islands of the Uruguay-- Method of their birth and growth--The responsibility of leaves and branches--Uncertainty of island life--The effects of flood and current--Sub-tropical bergs--The vehicles of wild creatures--A jaguar visitation in Montevideo--Narrowing of the stream--Paysandú--The home of ox-tongues--The second commercial town of the Republic--Some features of the place--Variety of the landscape--The _Mesa de Artigas_--An historical table-land-- A monument to the national hero--Salto--A striking town-- Pleasant landscape--The Salto falls--The ending of the lower Uruguay--A rocky bed--Some minerals of Salto-- Alteration in the colour of the water--The beauty of the upper Uruguay. CHAPTER XX THE URUGUAYAN CAMPO 237 Formation of the land--A survey of the country--Features of the soil--Types of wild flowers--A land of hill, valley, and stream--The glamour of the distance--"The purple land"--Breezes of the Campo--An exhilarating country--The dearth of homesteads--The Uruguayan Gaucho-- His physique--The product of the blowy uplands--Matters of temperament--His comparative joviality--The Gaucho as worker, player, and fighter--The manipulation of feuds-- A comparison between Argentina and Uruguay--Warrior ancestors of the Gaucho--His sense of dignity and honour-- Conservative habits and customs--Costume and horse gear-- Strenuous _bailes_--Some homeric feats of dancing-- Stirring revelry--The Uruguayan landowner--Foreign elements in the land--Negro inhabitants of the Banda Oriental--The numerical status of the Africans in the north and in the south--Absence of a racial question--The slavery of former days--The employment of black troops in war--Lenient treatment of negro slaves--Harsh measures applied to aboriginal Indians--A lesson in human economy-- Testimony of a contemporary writer--Immigrant colonies. CHAPTER XXI ESTANCIA LIFE 246 Similarities between the farming routine of Uruguay and of Argentina--The Banda Oriental a pastoral rather than an agricultural land--Viticulture an asset in Estancia affairs--Wheat, maize, and linseed--Scarcity of alfalfa--Excellence of the natural pastures--The possibilities of private agricultural colonisation-- Favourable outlook for grazing countries in general-- Lemco estancias--The estancia San Juan--A comprehensive enterprise--Cattle, cereals, and viticulture--Stone quarries--A Campo stretch--The cutting out of a bullock--A Gaucho meal. CHAPTER XXII URUGUAY AS A PASTORAL COUNTRY 254 Origin of the live stock of the country--Influence of the climate and pastures upon the first animals introduced--Live stock census of 1909--Importance of the breeding industry--Various ramifications-- Principal items of home consumption--Articles of export--Quality of the first herds introduced--Type of original sheep and horses--Goats and pigs--The introduction of a superior class of animals--The _criollos_ and the _mestizos_--Breeds imported--Durham, Hereford, Polled Angus, and Devon cattle--Dutch, Norman, Flemish, and Swiss cattle--Growth of the dairy industry--Popular breeds of sheep and horses and pigs--Principal countries from which the animals are derived--Growing value of the local-bred live stock--The manipulation of an _estancia_--Well-found estates--Uruguayan agricultural societies--Work effected by these--Government support--The Rural Association of Uruguay--Financial results of agricultural shows--Side products--Tallow--Hams-- Tanning--"La Carolina"--A great dairy farm--The factory of Breuss and Frey--The _saladeros_, or meat-curing establishments--Number of animals slaughtered--Method by which the meat is cured-- _Tasajo_--Countries to which it is exported--The frozen-meat trade--"La Frigorifica Uruguaya"-- Important growth of the new industry--Shipments of frozen meat. CHAPTER XXIII DEPARTMENTS, CLIMATE, AND NATURAL HISTORY 265 The nineteen divisions of Uruguay--Their populations, areas, towns, and industries--Canelones--Florida--San José--Durazno--Flores--Colonia--Soriano--Rio Negro-- Paysandú--Salto--Artigas--Tacuarembó--Rivera--Cerro Largo--Treinta y Tres--Rocha--Maldonado--Montevideo-- Climate--Favourable conditions throughout the Republic--The Atlantic coast line--The summer season-- Pleasantly tempered heat--A land of cool breezes--Its attractions as a pleasure resort--Climates of the interior and of the north--Drought--Locusts--Comparative immunity of a pastoral country--Uruguayan fauna--Some common creatures of the Campo--Bird life--The ostrich--Its value as a commercial asset--The trade in ostrich feathers--Measures for the protection of the birds. CHAPTER XXIV INDUSTRIES AND NATURAL WEALTH 276 England's financial stake in Uruguay--British capital invested in the Republic--Its monetary importance compared with that of other South American nations-- General commercial development of the country--A satisfactory outlook--Progress of grazing and agriculture--Marked increase in commerce--Uruguay's exports--Cured meat and frozen carcasses--Diminution of the former trade, increase of the latter--Reasons for the transformation of industry--An outcome of Brazilian protection--The breeding of fine cattle for the European markets--Present situation of the world's meat market--The British Isles as importers of meat--The position in the United States--A change from the rôle of exporter to that of importer--The increase in River Plate shipments--Closeness of touch between South American and English markets--Probable admission of foreign meat into European countries--Intervention of the United States Beef Trust--Purchase of _Frigorificos_--Possible effects of a monopoly upon the producers--South American views on the subject--Favourable general position of the River Plate--The balance of power in beef--Extract of meat-- The Lemco and Oxo Company--Ramifications of the enterprise--The town of Fray Bentos--Agriculture-- Wheat--Maize--Barley. CHAPTER XXV INDUSTRIES AND NATURAL WEALTH (_continued_) 286 Minerals--Past obstacles to the proper working of mines--Gold--Auriferous prospects--Situation of the goldfields of Uruguay--Past and present workings of the mines--Influence of politics on labour--The Corrales mine--Manganese--Districts in which iron ore is met with--Mineral centres--Minas--Maldonado--Silver-- Copper--Marble--Gypsum--Slate--Sulphur--Asbestos--Precious stones--Diamonds and rubies--Jasper--Agate--The amethyst and topaz--The water-stone--A peculiarity of Uruguay-- Viticulture--Date of the introduction of the vine-- Vicissitudes at the start--Consequent rapid progress-- Vineyard area of the present day--The introduction of suitable plants--Countries of origin--Production of grapes and wine--Departments most suitable to the industry--The seal-fisheries--Originally carried on by the Indians--Habits of the seals--Development of the industry--Government grants--Conditions and concessions--Number of skins obtained since 1873-- Islands inhabited by the seals--Method of killing and curing--Waste of seal life--Suggestions for the improvement of the industry--Scientific measures necessary--A diplomatic incident in connection with the seal-fisheries. CHAPTER XXVI COMMUNICATIONS AND COMMERCE 296 British enterprise in South America--The various industries controlled--The railways of the southern continent--A remarkable record--The opening up of new lands--Some possibilities of the future--Sound basis on which the extension of the lines is founded-- Products and transport facilities--Probable influence of communications--Uruguayan railways--A high standard of enterprise--Comfortable travelling--Some comparisons between Uruguay and Argentina as railway countries-- Level country _versus_ hills--Stone _versus_ alluvial soil--Question of ballast--Importance of the new ramifications--Railway construction in Uruguay--History of the lines--Government obligations--Mileage and capital of the companies--Interest paid on capital-- Various railway systems--Areas served--The Central Company--Sketch of lines and extensions--Important developments--The communication with Brazil--Financial position of the Company--Midland Uruguay Railway-- Development and extension of the line--Receipts and expenses--The North Western of Uruguay and Uruguay Northern Railway--Montevidean tramways--Local, British, and German enterprise--Steamer service of the River Plate--The Mihanovich line--Ocean passenger traffic-- Montevideo the sole port of call--The Royal Mail Steam Packet Company--The Pacific Line--The Nelson Line--Other British companies--Position of British exports--Sound consular advice. CHAPTER XXVII POLITICS AND REVOLUTIONS 311 The Constitution of Uruguay--Government of the Republic--Deputies and senators--Their duties--The civil code--Marriage--Rights of foreigners--Law--The Commission of Charity and Public Welfare--Hospitals-- Orphan asylums--Infirmaries--The charity hospital lottery--The distribution of political parties--The _Colorados_ and the _Blancos_--Policy of either--Feud between the parties--Old-standing strife--Explanation of the nomenclature--Origin of the feud--Rivera and Oribe-- Inherited views--Attitude of the foreigners--Revolutions-- Manner of the outbreak--Government precautions--The need of finance and arms--Some rebellious devices--Rifles as Manchester goods--The importance of horses--Difficulties that attend a revolutionary movement--The sweeping up of horses--Equine concentration camps--A powerful weapon in the hands of the authorities--First signs of an outbreak--Sylvan rendezvous--The question of reinforcements--Some desperate ventures--Their accustomed end--Chieftains of the north--Effect of a revolution upon local industries--Needs of the army--Estancia hands as troopers--Hasty equipment-- Manner in which actual hostilities are conducted--"The Purple Land that England lost"--The spirit of Modernism and the internal struggle--Tendency to localise the fields of strife--Power of the _Colorado_ party--Whence the restrictive partisans are drawn--Distinguishing Insignia--Some necessary precautions on the part of the foreigner--Adventures derived from colour in clothes--Some ludicrous episodes--The expense of revolution. INDEX 343 ILLUSTRATIONS CATHEDRAL: MONTEVIDEO _Frontispiece_ FACING PAGE A RURAL INN 28 COUNTRY COACH AT LA SIERRA STATION 28 INDIAN MACE HEADS 38 INDIAN STONE AXE 38 A GAUCHO RACE: THE START 44 A GAUCHO RACE: THE FINISH 44 RUINED COLONIA 52 ARTIGAS' MONUMENT 52 MONTEVIDEO AND THE CERRO HILL 88 "AFTER CATTLE" 88 LAGO DEL PRADO: MONTEVIDEO 124 THE PRADO: MONTEVIDEO 124 THE PRINCIPAL PLAZA: MONTEVIDEO 130 THE HARBOUR: MONTEVIDEO 130 ANCIENT STONES EMPLOYED FOR NUT-CRUSHING 140 NATIVE "BOLEADORAS" 148 SOLIS THEATRE AND NATIONAL MUSEUM 156 THE CERRO FORT 156 THE BEACH AT PARQUE URBANO 162 THE SAN JOSÉ ROAD BRIDGE 162 EUCALYPTUS AVENUE: COLON 166 OXEN DRAWING RAILWAY COACH 186 BEFORE THE FAIR: TACUAREMBÓ 186 FRONTIER STONE AT RIVERA 192 TUNNEL AT BAÑADA DE ROCHA 192 EUCALYPTUS FOREST: PIRIAPOLIS 198 THE CASTILLO: PIRIAPOLIS 198 THE PAN DE AZUCAR MOUNTAIN 202 THE NEW HOTEL: PIRIAPOLIS 202 MERCEDES: FROM ACROSS THE RIO NEGRO 208 RIO NEGRO BRIDGE 212 ON THE RIO NEGRO 212 COLONIA: RUINED FORTRESS WALL 218 A CAMPO GRAVEYARD 218 THE BULL RING 222 ON THE URUGUAY RIVER 230 A URUGUAYAN STREAM 230 CATTLE ON THE ROAD 234 A CORNER OF THE FRAY BENTOS FACTORY 234 A PASTORAL SCENE 238 THE BICHADERO ESTANCIA 246 HEREFORD CATTLE ON THE BICHADERO ESTANCIA 246 ESTANCIA HOUSE: SAN JUAN 250 CHÂLET AT COLONIA SUIZA 258 THE VINTAGE: ESTANCIA SAN JUAN 258 STREAM ON THE SAN JUAN ESTANCIA 272 THE CATTLE DIP 280 DRYING JERKED MEAT 280 A SEAL ROOKERY 292 BASKING SEALS 292 OX WAGON ON THE CAMPO 316 CROSS-COUNTRY TRAVELLING 316 PEDIGREE CATTLE 320 OVEN BIRD'S NEST 320 URUGUAY CHAPTER I SURVEY Geographical situation of the Republic--Boundaries and area--Uruguay as an historical, commercial, and financial centre--The respective positions of Uruguay and Paraguay--Disadvantages of a buffer State--A land of sunshine and shadow--The history of Uruguay--The blending of industry and warfare--Vitality of the nation--Instances of self-sacrifice--A South American Switzerland--A freedom-loving folk--Deeds of arms and the undercurrents of commerce--Montevideo in the eyes of the casual traveller--Factors that make for the progress of the Banda Oriental--Influence of railway--Coming cessation of the North American beef shipments--Temperament of the Uruguayan--Distinction between Argentine and Uruguayan politics--The clans of the Banda Oriental--The birthright of party convictions--Education in Uruguay--National points of honour--Liberty accorded the foreigner--The courtesy of officials--An incident at the customs-house--Popularity of the English--A gratifying situation--Satisfactory international relations--The work of Mr. R. J. Kennedy, the British Minister Plenipotentiary--Uruguay's pacific foreign policy--Careful finance--Army and navy--General progress of the nation. Uruguay may be described as a republic of comparatively small dimensions sandwiched in between the great territories of Argentina and Brazil, and bounded on the south by the Southern Atlantic Ocean and the estuary of the River Plate. Its actual area, 72,100 square miles, is less than that of the British Isles, and thus the Banda Oriental, to use the name by which the State is locally known, enjoys the distinction of being the smallest of the South American republics. But, although this distinction applies to actual area, it serves for remarkably little else in the country. Indeed, an astonishing amount is packed within the frontiers of Uruguay. In the first place it is a land where much history has been made. Secondly, to turn to its industrial assets--although I do not intend to deal with the commercial side of the Republic more fully than can be helped--it is a country where many cattle are bred. Lastly, it is a place in which no less than fifty million pounds sterling of English money are invested. Thus the small Republic, as an investment field, ranks third in importance amongst all the States of South America, a fact that is realised by remarkably few outside its own boundaries. Uruguay and Paraguay are frequently confused by those quite unfamiliar with South American affairs, owing to the similarity of the nomenclature. In actual fact the two countries have very little in common, save in their political situation. Both separated themselves from the River Plate Provinces in the course of the War of Independence, since which time both have served as buffer States between Argentina and Brazil. The position of such is seldom enviable at the best of times. Upon Uruguay it has worked with an especial degree of hardship, since even before the days of her independence it was upon her suffering soil that the too frequent differences between Spaniard and Portuguese were fought out. [Illustration: A RURAL INN.] [Illustration: COUNTRY COACH AT LA SIERRA STATION. To face p. 28.] As to the international jealousies of a later era, they have not been without their influence upon the domestic affairs of the central State. Thus on not a few occasions the result of foreign diplomacy has been civil war within the boundaries of Uruguay, with consequences that were necessarily disastrous to the nation. The Banda Oriental is a land of sunshine, it is true, but one of shadow too, which is logical enough, since without the former the latter cannot obtain. Its metaphorical sunshine is represented by the undoubted merits of its inhabitants, its temporary shadows by the circumstances in which they have found themselves placed. He would be no real friend of Uruguay who strove to show that the march of the country has not been rudely arrested on innumerable occasions. Indeed, were it not for the conditions that have prevailed for centuries, the actual forward steps that the Republic has effected would be far less remarkable than is in reality the case. The history of Uruguay reveals a continuous medley of peace and war. Its swords have been beaten into ploughshares and welded back again into lethal weapons ere the metal had cooled from the force of the former operation. Each series of such transformations, moreover, has occurred at intervals sufficiently short to destroy utterly the hopes and prosperity of an ordinary people. Over and over again the Uruguayans have strewn the battlefields with their dead; yet during each interval they have continued to plant the soil with its proper and more profitable seed. An extraordinary vitality on the part of the people joined to the natural wealth of the land have been the factors by means of which the small Republic has brushed away the results of its wars as lightly as though such convulsions were summer showers. The history of Uruguay reveals an admirable amount of pure heroism. Apart from the fighting merits that are inborn and natural to the race, the most unsympathetic reader of its past pages cannot deny to it the innumerable instances of self-sacrifice that were the fruit of loftier ideals. Of the many vivid battle scenes that were painted in too deadly an earnest against their neighbours and even amongst themselves, there are few that are not relieved by some illuminating act of heroism, for all the utter ferocity and courage by which these conflicts were wont to be marked. Uruguay, in fact, was something of a South American Switzerland; but a Switzerland bereft of the lofty peaks and mountain tops that assisted the men of the Cantons against the Austrians, endowed, moreover, with a more restless and undisciplined folk of its own. Yet in many respects the resemblance holds good, and for one reason most of all. The Orientales rested not until they had won their freedom. Not once but several times they were forced to wrest it from the stranger ere it finally became secure. At later periods, too, it is not to be denied that the greater bulk of the neighbouring nations has stood out remorselessly between Uruguay and the sunlight. There have been times when the small Republic has been ground between the great mills of Argentina and Brazil. Thus her progress--steady and all but continuous in spite of the civil wars and revolutions that have torn her--has been achieved all but unnoticed and entirely unapplauded. Europeans, and many South Americans too, read of the Uruguayan battlefields and deeds of arms, yet they learn nothing of the undercurrent of industry that has flowed onwards all the while beneath the turbulence of the wild warrings. Nevertheless, this progress has been very real, and that it must become apparent to the world before long is certain. Even to the present day Uruguay amongst nations has remained "a violet by a mossy stone, half hidden from the eye." To the ordinary person who passes between Europe and South America, Montevideo represents little beyond a whistling station between the two important halts at Buenos Aires and Rio de Janeiro. In justice to the Banda Oriental's neighbour be it said that this ignorance does not apply to the actual resident in Argentina, and least of all to the dwellers in Buenos Aires. To them the commercial importance and general attractions of Uruguay and its capital are well enough known. This interest, however, is merely local, and fails to extend beyond the familiar radius of the pleasant little Republic's influence. Commercially speaking, it is difficult to understand how the factors that have now arisen to drag the Banda Oriental from its undeserved oblivion can well fail in their task. The linking of the country by railway with Brazil, the influence that the imminent cessation of the North American beef exportation is bound to exert upon a stock-breeding country, to say nothing of the internal progress already referred to, must undoubtedly result sooner or later in bringing the gallant little nation into the light of publicity. A fusion of warring parties, an end of civil strife, and a strict attention to the less risky and more profitable business of the day should follow in the natural sequence of events. Very hale, hearty, and jovial though he is, it must be admitted that the Oriental is in deadly earnest when engaged in civil battle--as is the case with all who pursue a hobby to the detriment of a more lucrative occupation. Yet the substitution of gunshots for the suffrage is not only expensive, but, from the polling point of view, unpleasantly devoid of finality. The distinctions between the political arrangements of Uruguay and Argentina are curiously marked. For generations the latter country has been governed by a succession of groups that have respectively formed and dissolved without leaving any marked cleavage in the society of the nation. Strictly speaking, Argentina possesses neither faction spirit nor party. Uruguay, on the other hand, is concerned first and foremost with these very matters of party. The history of the Colorados and the Blancos--the reds and whites--would in itself suffice to fill a volume. Probably in no other part of the world have the pure considerations of clan triumphed to such an extent over the general political situation. Until the present day the line between the rival camps has been as absolute as that between life and death. The position of either is immutable. Neither argument, mode of government, nor the vicissitudes of state are among the considerations by which they are affected. A man is born one of two things--a Blanco or a Colorado. This birthright, moreover, is to be exchanged for no mere mess of pottage; it is valued above the price of life itself. Such, at all events, has been the creed of the past, and to a large extent it still holds good, although the stress of modern influence is just beginning to leave its mark upon the cast-iron prejudices that are the relicts of another age. At the same time, it must not be inferred from this that the Uruguayan is ignorant or small-minded. Far from it. Education enjoys an exceptionally high standard throughout the country, and a most liberal breadth of view is typical of the nation. This is readily admitted, and even insisted upon, by foreigners whose dealings with the native-born dwellers in the Republic have placed them in a position to render an accurate judgment. In internal politics, however, there are prejudices, considerations of clan, and points of honour that are not to be gauged from a purely commercial standpoint. The foreigner in Uruguay is accorded a most complete liberty, and there are few of these who have resided for any length of time within its frontiers who have not become very truly attached to the land and its people. It has frequently been my lot to pass over from Argentina to Uruguay, arriving at one of the minor ports that dot the middle reaches of the great river. But it so happened that I had never landed, bag and baggage, at the capital until the time came for a regular and organised spying out of the land. An incident at the start lent a very pleasing aspect to the visit. The customs-house officer, in whose hands lay the fate of the interior of my baggage, gazed from where it lay piled upon the official trestle in the direction of its owner. "Inglez?" he demanded in the curt tone of one in authority. When I had signified assent he smiled cordially, sketched with rapid fingers the magic chalk marks upon the impedimenta, and then motioned me to pass through the portals with all the honours of customs, locks unviolated, and straps in repose. I have not introduced this incident from any personal motives. It merely affords an instance of a very genuine courtesy rendered to the nation through the medium of one of its most humble units. Yet it is from such attentions to a stranger that the trend of the general attitude may be gleaned. The English are not a little addicted to a frank confession of their unpopularity amongst the South Americans in general. The attitude may be the result of a certain pose, since they claim full credit for the respect that is undoubtedly theirs by right. Nevertheless, whether imagined or real, the idea obtains. In Uruguay at the present moment the Englishman is so obviously _not_ unpopular that it is gratifying to be able to proclaim the fact. Whatever the fates may have in store the existing understanding between the Uruguayans and the British is very cordial and complete. In words as well as in deeds it is perhaps advisable to let well alone. Yet it is satisfactory to reflect that innumerable practical proofs show that this mutual esteem which has existed for centuries has never been more firmly grafted than at the present day. There can be no doubt, moreover, that the present satisfactory phase is very largely due to the efforts of Mr. R. J. Kennedy, the British Minister Plenipotentiary and Envoy Extraordinary, whose tact and conscientious ability have won for him respect and popularity on the part of Uruguayans and resident British alike--a consummation to which it is the lot of sufficiently few ministers to attain. Although internal disturbances may continue to arise from time to time, the position of Uruguay is now undoubtedly consolidated to a far greater extent than has ever been the case in former years. The nation that sprang into being at the commencement of the nineteenth century had to contend with indefinite frontiers at the best of times, and with the frequent waves of turbulence that swept inwards over the land from the greater centres of disturbance without its borders. Now for many decades an undisturbed peace has characterised the foreign affairs of the nation, and such differences as have occurred from time to time with the neighbouring republics have been settled in an essentially pacific and reasonable spirit. A striking instance of this has occurred quite recently in the case of the vexed question concerning the delimitation of neutral waters in the River Plate. The rights affecting a great inland and international highway are naturally most delicate and difficult to adjust, as the past history of the entire river system here has proved on numerous occasions. In this particular instance had either Uruguay or Argentina shown any other but a fair and conciliatory spirit, the consequences cannot fail to have been serious in the extreme. As it was, the dispute was brought to a satisfactory and amicable conclusion, much to the credit of the respective diplomatists concerned. For many years now the policy of the Banda Oriental Government has been practical and deliberate. In matters of finance extreme caution has been exercised, and economy in expenditure has been rigid. The result is now evident in the very favourable financial position of the Republic, since it is now endowed with more solid monetary sinews than has ever been the case before. The nation, moreover, is free from any excessive expenditure on its army and navy. Both branches of the service are on a small scale, and in this moderation Uruguay is undoubtedly wise; since, although the race possesses its fighting instincts to the full, the population and resources of the Republic would not allow it to compete either in numbers, guns, or ships with the armies of the neighbouring countries, or with the great naval armaments that are being brought together. In the past there is no doubt that matters in Uruguay have been regarded with a certain amount of pessimism--a gloomy view for which the alleged instability of the Government was chiefly responsible. Were all that has been said on this head strictly accurate, there is no doubt that the condition of the country would be parlous indeed. On numberless occasions, however, the reports that have prevailed have been remarkable merely for their exaggeration. Frequently, moreover, such highly coloured--or rather darkened--pictures have been depicted to serve interests in Europe rather than in Uruguay. Commercially speaking, it is surely a matter for congratulation that even such a disturbing element as civil strife should have left the financial solidity of the Republic unimpaired. This point of view, however, is merely the financial one--important enough in its place, but not sufficiently overwhelming to eliminate all the other interests at stake. The spirit of progress has been abroad, not only in the ethics of the pastures, banks, and business houses, but in the more subtle fields of science, literature, and art as well. This, however, is not the place in which to introduce details or statistics concerning the improvements in the various ramifications of the nation's existence. For the present let the statement suffice that in no direction has a retrograde movement been perceptible: on the contrary, a continuous progress has been evident in almost every matter from the curing of beef to the making of scholars--two products that are equally essential to the welfare of the land. CHAPTER II HISTORY The discovery of Uruguay--Reception by the Indians--Juan de Solis and his fate--Navigation of the River Plate--Serrano and Magellanes--Rivalry between Spaniards and Portuguese--The first settlement in the Banda Oriental--Aggressive tactics of the Indians--Forts destroyed by them--Colonisation under difficulties--The introduction of cattle--A prophetic move--Intervention of the missionaries--Jesuit settlements established--Uruguay's isolation comes to an end--Influence of the livestock--Cattle-raiders--The first Portuguese invasion--Victory of the Spaniards, assisted by native auxiliaries--Treaties and their attendant troubles--The indecision of Old Spain--Partial extermination of the Indians--The town of Colonia as a bone of contention--Introduction of the first negro slaves into the provinces of the River Plate--Unrest on the Spanish main--Moreau, the buccaneer--The fate of his expedition--Portuguese invaders expelled by the Spaniards--A fort is constructed on the present site of Montevideo. The early history of Uruguay needs but cursory recapitulation, since its episodes form part and parcel of the general discovery of the River Plate. Juan Diaz de Solis, the famous explorer of the great river, was the first leader in the Spanish service to set foot on Uruguayan soil. The precise point of his disembarkation is unknown, but it is certain enough that the spot lay somewhere just to the north of the island of Martin Garcia. His reception at the hands of the hostile Charrúa Indians, who at the time inhabited the district, was fatally inhospitable. Solis and many more of the landing party of fifty who accompanied him were slain by these natives almost as soon as they had landed, and the disheartened expedition returned to Spain. It is supposed that Rodriguez Serrano was the first to sail the waters of the Uruguay River proper. In 1520, when anchored in the mouth of the River Plate on his way to the South, Magellane is supposed to have sent this subordinate of his some distance up the Uruguay. There is much, however, that is vague in the history of these particular waterways at this time. A certain material reason obtained for the mystery. The rivalry between the Spaniards and Portuguese tended towards a concealment on the part of each of discoveries that affected comparatively unknown and debatable areas. Thus there is no doubt that various Portuguese expeditions sailed the Uruguay River at this period; but the details of these are uncertain. In 1527 Spain, fearing the possibilities of Portuguese influence, turned her attention once more to the great river system of the South. It was in that year that Cabot founded the fort of San Sebastian on the Uruguayan coast. This, at the confluence of the San Salvador River with the Uruguay, was the first Spanish settlement in the country. Its existence was short-lived. Attacked by the Charrúa Indians in 1529, the fort was destroyed and many of its garrison slain. After this little was heard of the Uruguayan coast until, in 1552, Irala, the famous Governor of the River Plate, ordered Captain Juan Romero to found a settlement on that shore. Juan Romero set out with an expedition of 120 men, and founded the settlement of San Juan at the mouth of the river of the same name. This attempt was likewise unsuccessful. The Charrúas had to be reckoned with, and two years later the place was abandoned on account of their incessant attacks. [Illustration: INDIAN MACE HEADS.] [Illustration: INDIAN STONE AXE. To face p. 38.] In 1573 another noted _conquistador_, Zarate, on the completion of his voyage from Europe, arrived at the island of San Gabriel. He founded a settlement on the neighbouring Uruguayan mainland, and the Charrúas for once received him with comparative hospitality. Nevertheless it was not long ere hostilities broke out, by reason of the Spaniard's own arrogance, it is said. In the end the Europeans were completely defeated by the famous chief Zapicán, losing over one hundred soldiers and various officers. The Spaniards then retired to the island of San Gabriel, leaving the aboriginal tribe in possession of the new township, which they immediately destroyed. A short while after this Juan de Garay, afterwards famed as the founder of the modern Buenos Aires, arrived near the scene of the disaster. With a diminutive force (it is said by some that his expedition comprised no more than twelve cavalry and twenty-two infantry) he attacked Zapicán's army of a thousand men. The result was the rout of the Indians, in the course of which Zapicán and many other leading caciques perished. This action was fought in the neighbourhood of ruined San Salvador, and Zarate founded a new settlement on the ruins of the old. Triumph, however, was short-lived, for the Indians remained as fiercely persevering as ever, and three years later their aggressive tactics caused the establishment to be abandoned once again. In 1603 it is said that Hernando Arias de Saavedra, the first colonial-born Governor of the River Plate, led an expedition of five hundred men against the Charrúas. Hernandarias, by which name the Governor was popularly known, was a famous warrior of whose prowess and feats of arms much is told. For all that, according to report, the defeat of the Spanish force was so complete that only Hernandarias, thanks to his tremendous personal strength, escaped from the field alive. It is probable, however, that this version of the fight is, to say the least of it, exaggerated. The next move of Hernandarias in the direction of the Banda Oriental was of a more pacific nature. With a rare touch of wisdom and foresight he shipped from Buenos Aires to Colonia across the river one hundred head of cattle, and a like number of horses and mares. These, sent adrift to roam at their own sweet will in the new country, multiplied at least as fast as had been anticipated. The animals in question undoubtedly stand as the nucleus of the pastoral riches of to-day. Thus Hernandarias sent out wealth to the land that was closed to his men in order that it should seed and multiply until the time came for the European to take it over with the country itself. In this earlier era of River Plate history the march of civilisation had been arrested at the first step in Uruguay on each occasion on which it had been undertaken. It was not until the beginning of the seventeenth century that success attended the endeavours of the Spaniards. In 1618 the first missionaries entered Uruguay. The Franciscan fathers Bernardo de Guzman, Villavicencio, and Aldao landed in that year at the mouth of the Rio, and converted to Christianity many members of the more peaceably disposed tribes. In 1624 Bernardo de Guzman founded the first Uruguayan Jesuit settlement, Santo Domingo de Soriano, and a little later the missions of Espinillo, Viboras, and Aldao were established in the present provinces of Soriano and Colonia. Larger and more important missions were shortly afterwards founded in the north, and formed a more or less integral portion of the great Jesuit field in Paraguay. At one time there were no less than thirty-seven of these stations existing within the frontiers of the old Banda Oriental as they were then defined. In consequence of the later Brazilian encroachments, however, the sites of only seven of these--San Francisco de Borga, San Nicolas, San Juan Bautista, San Luis Gonzaga, San Miguel, San Lorenzo, and Santa Angel--lie within the boundaries of the present Republic. While in the north of Uruguay the Indians, taught by the missionaries, were now beginning to occupy themselves with agriculture and grazing, in the south the herds introduced by Hernandarias were multiplying amazingly. These were responsible for the visits of many who came over from Argentina to slay the cattle and to collect their hides. They were licensed by the Cabildo of Buenos Aires, who received a third of the profits. In order to facilitate this traffic in hides, these _Faeneros_, as they were termed, gradually established themselves upon the banks of the Uruguay and its tributaries, and upon the ocean coast. Thus the names of Cufré, Pavón, Toledo, Pando, Solis, Maldonado, and many others have been bequeathed to the soil by the merchant adventurers who trafficked in those spots, since each named his settlement after himself. No little competition was afforded these Faeneros by the _Changadores_, adventurers of a more reckless order who made their incursions into the country without licence and against the law. Corresponding precisely to the buccaneers of the farther north, they slew where opportunity offered, taking refuge in Brazil when pursued, until their growing numbers enabled them from time to time to offer armed resistance to the officers of the Crown sent to chastise them. Attracted by this commerce, pirates, whether of Portuguese or other nationality, would occasionally make descents, and would raid and harry the cattle in their turn. The Indians, for their part, were not slow in availing themselves of this new and convenient source of livelihood, and, according to a Uruguayan writer became "carnivorous from necessity and equestrian from force of imitation." In 1680 a more serious danger threatened the Banda Oriental. At the beginning of that year a Portuguese fleet came to anchor off the island of San Gabriel. Eight hundred soldiers and a number of colonist families were disembarked at Colonia del Sacramento on the mainland, where they founded a township. On learning of this invasion the Governor of Buenos Aires, José de Garro, immediately demanded the evacuation of the place. As a reply to this request, Lobo, the Portuguese commander, triumphantly produced a map on which Colonia was represented as in Brazilian territory. A strenuous geographical discussion ensued, at the conclusion of which Garro, having failed to convince the intruders of the inaccuracy of the chart by more subtle arguments, resolved to expel the enemy by force. With this end in view he obtained the loan of three thousand Indians from the Jesuits, who were by this time becoming accustomed to the lending of men and arms for such patriotic purposes. With this force, stiffened by the presence of three hundred Spaniards, he captured the hostile settlement, taking prisoners the Portuguese Governor and garrison. It is related that the Spanish general had prepared a striking _ruse de guerre_ that was to serve in this assault. Four thousand loose horses were to be driven to the front of the charging forces, and upon these animals the first devastation of the artillery fire of the defenders was to expend itself. The Indians, however, whose destined place was in the vanguard, raised some powerful objections to this scheme of attack. Considering with reason that a backward rush of the wounded and terrified beasts--like that of the elephants of a previous age--would promise greater disaster to themselves than to the enemy, they protested against the living bulwark with its many possibilities. Thus the town was captured without the aid of the horses, and the first of the many combats that reddened the shore of Colonia ended in favour of Spain. This triumph was short-lived. In 1681 Carlos II. of Spain in a weak moment signed a treaty by which Colonia was given back to Portugal, to be held by her until a definite decision could be arrived at concerning the vexed question of ownership. In the meanwhile it was arranged that the geographical arguments should be settled by the pontifical authorities, whose expert knowledge upon the point was doubtful. The Portuguese, moreover, in order to obtain an added salve to their dignity, stipulated that Garro should be deprived of his post. This was complied with; but the result did not in the least coincide with the Portuguese expectations. Garro himself must have smiled broadly when he learned that he was deprived of his command at Buenos Aires in order to take over the superior governorship of Chile! In 1702 a campaign was waged against the Indians. The tactics of the majority of the tribes had remained consistently aggressive, and their predatory interest in the commerce of hides and dried meat had developed to a pitch inconvenient to the settlers. The war, although its scope did not include the entire aboriginal population, was one of extermination so far as it went, and at its conclusion the sections of the Charrúas, Bohanes, and Yaros in the neighbourhood of the River Yi had practically ceased to exist. In the meanwhile Colonia, in the hands of the Portuguese, had become the centre of contraband operations by means of which merchandise was smuggled into the sternly closed port of Buenos Aires. As a point of vantage it served so admirably for this purpose, and so greatly to the profit of both the Portuguese and of the more unscrupulous residents of Buenos Aires, that in 1705 Philip V. of Spain ordered its recapture in earnest. For this purpose two thousand Spaniards and four thousand Jesuit Indians assembled. After a six months' strenuous siege of the place the Portuguese garrison fled in a fleet that had been sent to their rescue, and Colonia passed back into the hands of the Spaniards. But the vicissitudes of the spot were not yet at an end. Oblivious of the past, Philip V. by the Treaty of Utrecht in 1713 ceded the town to the Portuguese. Garcia Ros, the Governor of Buenos Aires, was of sterner mould. Taking advantage of a loosely worded clause in the treaty, he limited the Portuguese ownership of the soil to the radius of a cannon-shot from the plaza of the town. By this means the inconvenience of the occupation was to a certain extent neutralised. [Illustration: A GAUCHO RACE: THE START.] [Illustration: A GAUCHO RACE: THE FINISH. To face p. 44.] About this time negro slaves were first introduced from Africa into the provinces of the River Plate. This measure had been originally urged by the famous Father Bartolomé de las Casas with a view of augmenting the local force of labour, and thus of alleviating the condition of the aboriginal races that in many parts were becoming exterminated on account of the excess of toil imposed upon them. This state of affairs, as a matter of fact, did not obtain in the Banda Oriental, where Indian and Spaniard stood entirely apart. Nevertheless an influx of negroes occurred in the province, and--though nothing can be said in favour of the morality of the proceeding--there is no doubt that, once arrived, their presence tended to benefit the industries of the land. The period now was one of considerable unrest throughout the Spanish main. For some while the adventurers of other nations, seeking a share in the great riches of the South American provinces, had been knocking loudly at the gates that remained closely barred to them. Privateering and raids upon the coast had become more and more frequent, while the Spanish galleons, in continuous dread of attack, only put to sea for the purpose of long voyages in imposing numbers and beneath weighty escort. The River Plate, owing to the practical absence of the mineral traffic from its frontier, suffered far fewer depredations than fell to the lot of the gold and silver bearing countries to the north. Yet the homelier riches of the pastoral districts were becoming known and appreciated to a certain extent. In consequence of this the waters of the River Plate from time to time had many unwelcome visitors. Privateers of all nationalities, although their enforced ignorance of the navigation forbade them to penetrate for any distance up the waters of the great streams themselves in the face of local opposition, harassed the coast-line, and occasionally landed in more or less formidable parties. One of the most notable of these was a French adventurer of the name of Moreau, whose buccaneering ideas were considerably in advance of those of the majority who were wont to harry these particular districts. Moreau's plan of campaign, in fact, savoured rather of regular warfare than of the more usual methods of the rapid raidings and retreats. Thus in 1720 he disembarked with a body of men and four cannon at Maldonado, where he fortified himself, and began to amass a great store of hides. Surprised by the Spaniards, he was forced to take to his ships in haste, with the loss of his guns and of his stock-in-trade. A few months later the Frenchman returned, accompanied this time by a force of over a hundred well-armed men, and prepared to settle himself for an extended stay in the country. Curiously enough, it appears to have been the unfortunate Moreau's fate to reverse the fighting rôles of the buccaneer and local resident, since, instead of surprising others, it was he who was caught unawares on either occasion. The termination of his second visit was more fatal than that of his first. Attacked when in an unprepared condition by the Spaniards, the defeat of the buccaneer force was complete. Moreau himself was slain, together with the greater part of his company, while the remainder were taken prisoners. Freed from this source of danger, the inhabitants of the Banda Oriental were not long left without anxiety on another head. The Portuguese had never ceased to covet the rich land that might be made to serve as such a valuable and temperate pendant to their torrid northern areas. The River Plate stood to them in the light of a Rhine, and at the end of 1723 they awoke once more into aggressive activity. An expedition then left Rio de Janeiro consisting of four ships with three hundred soldiers. The force sailed to the point where the town of Montevideo now stands, at that time a lonely spot whose commercial and strategic importance was then for the first time discovered. Here the expedition landed, and in a short while its leaders had negotiated with the natives whom they found in the district, had supplied them with arms, and had founded a settlement. On learning of this aggression the Buenos Aires authorities determined to resist the attempt in earnest. Gavala, the Spanish Governor, collected a powerful fleet, and sailed in haste to the spot. The Portuguese, ascertaining the strength of the attacking force, abandoned their new settlement, and made off to the north without awaiting its arrival. Gavala then took possession of Montevideo in turn, and took measures in order to prevent a repetition of the incident. To this end he constructed a powerful battery on the spot, and supplied the fort with a garrison of a hundred Spanish troops, and with a thousand native auxiliaries. CHAPTER III HISTORY--_continued_ Founding of the city of Montevideo--Its first inhabitants--Inducement offered to colonists--The early days of the town--Successful rising of the Indians in the neighbourhood--Victory of the natives--Montevideo saved by Jesuit intervention--The Portuguese invade the northern provinces--The first Governor of Montevideo--Treaties and territorial cessions--Dissatisfaction of Jesuit Indians--Their defeat by combined Spanish and Portuguese forces--Vicissitudes of Colonia--The danger of hostile residents--A concentration camp of the old days--Expulsion of the Jesuits--Some incidents of the wars with the Portuguese--The foundation of urban centres--The English occupy themselves with the whaling industry on the coast--Discouragement of the enterprise by the King of Spain--A corps of Blandengues is created--The British invasion--Political effects of the occupation--The war of independence--Montevideo as the seat of the Spanish viceroyalty--Commencement of the agitation for freedom in Uruguay. On the 24th of December, 1726, was founded the city proper of Montevideo. Its inception was sufficiently modest. Indeed, the spot commenced its urban existence on a human diet of seven families translated from Buenos Aires for the purpose. A little later twenty families were brought from the Canary Islands to add to the humble population. It is not a little curious to read how, even in those early days, the spirit of colonial enterprise was already manifest in the way that is now considered most up-to-date. Intending immigrants to Montevideo were each offered free transport from Buenos Aires, plots in the city and holdings in the Campo, two hundred head of cattle, one hundred sheep, and free cartage of building material. They were offered, beyond, tools, agricultural implements, and a remission of taxes for a certain period. The whole savours strongly of a modern immigration department. In any case, the inducements offered were considerable. Two years after its foundation Montevideo received an important reinforcement of citizens, when thirty families from the Canary Islands and from Galicia were introduced into the place. Thus the small town was already beginning to make its mark upon the surrounding country, and at the end of 1728 it could count over two hundred inhabitants, four hundred troops, and a thousand Indians employed principally in the works of fortification. A couple of years later it was deemed worthy of a corporation. Nevertheless, in this very year the growing settlement all but came to a bloody and untimely end. A rising of the Charrúa Indians in the immediate neighbourhood of Montevideo resisted all the efforts made to subdue it. Over one hundred Spaniards were slain and the royal forces put to rout. The natives, drunk with success, were on the eve of entering Montevideo and of slaughtering the inhabitants, when a Jesuit missionary, Padre Herán, intervened, and prevailed on the Indians to desist from their purpose. Scarcely had this danger passed when another, and remoter, came into being to take its place. The restless Portuguese having given peace to the Banda Oriental for ten years, doubtless considered the period unduly prolonged, and thus invaded the Rio Grande on the northern frontier. Lavala's successor, Don Miguel de Salcedo, a ruler as impotent as the first had been strong, contented himself with besieging Colonia as a counter-stroke, while the Portuguese forces were left free to complete the conquest of Rio Grande. This they continued to hold, despite the terms of an armistice arranged in 1737 between Spain and Portugal. For ten years after this no historical event of importance occurred to disturb the progress of Uruguay. In 1747 a rising of the Indians was utterly crushed at Queguay, and two years later Montevideo, now acknowledged as a town of importance, was accorded a Governor of its own. Don José Joaquin de Viana was the first appointed to the post. His opinion of its urgency is evident from the fact that he only took office in 1751. By the treaty of 1750 King Ferdinand VI. of Spain ceded to Portugal the northern stretches comprising the Jesuit Missions of Uruguay and the present province of Rio Grande in exchange for Colonia. As a stroke of commercial diplomacy the bargain was undoubtedly a failure, since by its means Spain not only lost for ever two flourishing provinces, but, in addition, the Jesuits and their Indians were obliged to forsake the field of their labours, and to migrate in search of fresh country. This, however, was not the case with all alike. A large number of the Indians, deeply attached to the neighbourhoods wherein lay their homes, refused to follow the missionaries, and in the end resisted the unwelcome decree. Pitted against the combined forces of Buenos Aires, Uruguay, and Brazil, their cause had not a momentary chance of success. After suffering various defeats, they were finally routed and almost exterminated at Caaibate in 1756, when the native loss amounted to 154 prisoners and 1,200 dead, at the very moderate Spanish cost of 4 dead and 41 wounded. The character of the action is sufficiently evident from the butcher's bill. A certain number of the surviving Indians were taken to Maldonado, and, settling there, formed the nucleus of the present town. In the meanwhile Colonia, whose inhabitants by this time must have been rendered giddy by the continuous substitution of bunting, had again passed into the possession of the Portuguese. The recurrence of war between these and the Spaniards gave Pedro de Ceballos, an able and energetic Governor of Buenos Aires, an opportunity to act. In 1762 he surprised Colonia, captured it, and was in the act of invading the ceded territory of Rio Grande when the Treaty of Paris came inopportunely into being to stay him in his path of conquest, and to give back Colonia, that bone of contention, to the Portuguese once more. This occurred in 1763, and Ceballos was powerless to struggle further against a fate that caused victory to be followed by the loss of provinces. Nevertheless, he took various measures towards the preservation of the remaining territory. One of the most important of these was concerned with the numerous Portuguese families that were settled along the eastern frontier of the country. Having reason to believe that these were hatching further warlike schemes in conjunction with the authorities across the border, Ceballos caused them to be taken south, and to be collected together in a small settlement in the neighbourhood of Maldonado, where they could remain under the watchful eye of the Uruguayan officials. In 1767 the expulsion of the Jesuits from South America by King Carlos III. of Spain proved of no little moment to the Banda Oriental, since many of the Indians, wandering shepherdless and at a loss, came southwards, and became part and parcel of Uruguay. It was by means of twelve of these Indian families that the city of Paysandú, amongst several others, was founded, while the fields of Montevideo and Maldonado derived many new cultivators from this source. It was but a very few years later that the trouble with the Portuguese broke out once again. Indeed, it would seem that indulgence in border feud had now become an ineradicable habit on the part of both sides. By the year 1774 the inhabitants of Brazil had once again passed over the north-western frontier, and had spread themselves over the country in such numbers as to render their presence a menace to Uruguay. In order to remedy the situation, Vertiz, the Governor of Buenos Aires, crossed from Buenos Aires to Montevideo, from which city he sallied out northwards with an army of four thousand men. Meeting with the Portuguese forces in the neighbourhood of the Santa Tecla range, he routed them and pursued them as far as the River Yacuy, depriving them of the lands they had usurped. On the return of Vertiz to Buenos Aires, Portuguese aggression burst forth once again. Advancing from the east this time, they were repulsed in an attack on the town of San Pedro; but in 1776, returning with an army of two thousand men, they captured the place and possessed themselves of the district. The inevitable counter-stroke on the part of the Spaniards was to follow. Indeed, the scale of the struggle waxed steadily with the growth of the respective countries. Brazil was already the seat of a viceroyalty, and immediately after this last invasion the provinces of the River Plate were raised to the same status. Ceballos, then on a visit to Spain, was created first Viceroy, and was dispatched from Cadiz with a powerful fleet and with over nine thousand troops to avenge the incursion. [Illustration: RUINED COLONIA.] [Illustration: ARTIGAS' MONUMENT. To face p. 52.] With such forces as these at his disposal the task of Ceballos was an easy one. The Island of Santa Catalina was captured without a blow, and that bone of contention, Colonia, surrendered perforce after a few days of siege. Above its walls for the fifth time the flag of Spain was hoisted afresh. On this occasion the ill-omened place was destined to pay for the memories of the past, and its walls suffered in place of the garrison. In order to remove temptation from the minds of the northern enemy, Ceballos razed the elaborate fortifications to the ground and destroyed the more pretentious houses, amongst these being some of the best architectural specimens of the River Plate. Having effected this, Ceballos was passing northwards with the intention of bringing back the Rio Grande Province once more within the fold of Buenos Aires, when his march was stopped by the news of another of those treaties between the mother-countries that seemed to materialise with unfailing regularity at moments so ill-timed for the interests of the Spanish colonies. By the terms of this Spain was left with the mines of Colonia, while the Island of Santa Catalina and the greater part of Rio Grande were ceded definitely to Portugal. After this ensued an exceptionally lengthy era of peace, which was marked by the immigration of many families from Galicia and from the Canary Islands, and by the foundation of numerous towns, amongst these latter Canelones, Piedras, Rosario, Mercedes, Pando, Santa Lucia, San José, and Minas. As to the capital itself, by the year 1788 Montevideo had become a fairly important place, and could count a population of 6,695 Spaniards, 1,386 negro slaves, 562 liberated negroes, and 715 half-castes and Indians. A few years later the population was much augmented by the introduction of important numbers of negro slaves, a traffic that continued intermittently until 1825, when its continuance was prohibited by law. At the end of the century an industry was initiated that might have led to important commercial results but for the action of the Spanish home authorities. The waters off the coast of Maldonado had long been famed as a whaling-ground, and at this period permission was given to the Englishmen engaged in the traffic to found establishments both at this place and at Punta de la Ballena. The result was a rapid but fleeting prosperity at both these points, since after a while the attitude of the Court of Spain changed. Fearful of the influence of the English upon the Uruguayans, the authorities offered to the new colonists the option of becoming Roman Catholics and of swearing allegiance to the King of Spain, or of abandoning the settlement. The latter alternative was chosen by the whalers, and Maldonado and Punta de la Ballena, in consequence, sank back into the lethargy of industrial torpor. The instance is only one of the many in which the mother-country satisfied its conscience at the expense of its colony. * * * * * A corps of _Blandengues_, or Lancers, was formed in 1797, whose duties, beyond their military performances, were varied to a degree. Thus, in addition to the occasional brushes with the Indians that fell to their lot, they were employed as excise officials against the smugglers, as escorts of high officials, as ordinary police, and as official messengers. The corps was composed of picked men, and in its ranks served José Gervasio Artigas and José Rondeau, both bearers of names that were destined to become famous in Uruguayan history. This body of cavalry was destined to be employed on active service very soon after its formation. In 1801 the Portuguese became active once more, and the first year of the new century was marked by their occupation of land in the north-west of the Banda Oriental. After various actions, Rondeau, with a force of Blandengues and dragoons, defeated the invaders and won back the greater part of the lost territory. In 1806 occurred the first of the British invasions which, although materially fruitless in the end so far as our own country was concerned, were destined to influence the minds of the colonials and the future of the River Plate Provinces to a greater extent than is generally realised. The circumstances of the invasion that won to the British Crown for a very short while not only Montevideo, Maldonado, Colonia, and numerous lesser Uruguayan towns, but Buenos Aires in addition, afford bitter reading. Thanks to the colossal incapacity--to give his conduct no harder name--of the British Commander-in-Chief, General Whitlocke, the last troops of the British army of occupation had sailed away northwards from Montevideo by the beginning of September, 1807. Although the matter ended for the British with the departure of the troops from the River Plate, the aftermath of the event took very definite shape in the Spanish colonies themselves. Not only had the inhabitants of the provinces learned their own power, but--more especially in the case of Montevideo--the seeds of commercial liberty had been sown amongst the local merchants and traders by the English men of business who had descended upon the place beneath the protection of the army. That the final leave-taking between the English and the Uruguayans should have been accompanied by actual cordiality and regrets is surely an astonishing circumstance that affords great credit to both sides. There can be no doubt, however, that this mutual esteem was in the first place fostered by an appreciation on the part of the residents of British laws and methods of trading. Whether the germs thus left behind would have fructified so rapidly but for the chaotic condition of the mother-country is doubtful. As it was, scarcely had the smoke of these actions cleared away when it became necessary for the patriots of the River Plate Province to look once again to their primings in view of still more vital occurrences. * * * * * I do not propose to tell here the full story of the rebellion of the River Plate Provinces and of the revolution that ended in the complete overthrow of Spanish power in South America, since I have already roughly sketched these events elsewhere. So far as the main events are concerned, the transition from the colonial stage to the condition of independence was slower in the Banda Oriental than was the process upon the eastern bank of the great river. In Julio of 1810, when the Junta of Buenos Aires had already established itself to cast off the yoke of Spain, Montevideo still remained faithful to the mother-country, and rejected the advances of the Argentines. Thus at the beginning of 1811 Montevideo found itself, if only for a short while, the seat of the viceroyalty of the La Plata Provinces, and from that point of vantage Elio, the Viceroy, declared war upon Buenos Aires. Almost immediately, however, the spirit of independence became manifest in Uruguay itself, and it is at this juncture that occurs the name that has perhaps stamped itself most deeply of all upon the history of the Banda Oriental. CHAPTER IV HISTORY--_continued_ The advent of Artigas--First revolutionary movements in Uruguay--The appointment of leaders--First successes of the Uruguayans--The germs of future jealousies--Montevideo besieged by the patriot forces--An incident of the investment--Spain appeals to Portugal for assistance--Invasion of Uruguay by the latter--The Buenos Aires Government concludes a treaty with the Spanish Viceroy--Raising of the siege of Montevideo--Position of Uruguay--Discontent of the Orientales--The exodus of the nation--Incidents of emigration to the Argentine shore--Montevideo in Spanish hands--The country overrun by Portuguese--Buenos Aires effects a treaty with the latter--Resumption of the campaign against the Spaniards--Disputes between the Argentine and Uruguayan leaders--Montevideo again besieged--Some battle incidents--Artigas reappears on the scene--Drastic measures towards an ally--A national Congress convened--Oriental deputies rebuffed by Buenos Aires--Artigas withdraws from the siege of Montevideo--Price set upon his head--War declared between Uruguay and Buenos Aires--The Argentine littoral provinces adhere to Artigas--Fall of Montevideo. The personality of Artigas, the central figure of the Uruguayan revolutionary era, is fully described in a later chapter. It is necessary here, therefore, merely to give the record of historical occurrences, without laying stress on the individuality of the Oriental leader, a matter that is not easy of accomplishment, since the figure of Artigas seems to have dominated the field of action in whatever direction it lay. Shortly after the outbreak of the revolution Artigas, who at the time was in the Spanish service, joined the patriot ranks after a violent quarrel with his brigadier. The Oriental fled across the river to Buenos Aires. Here he received a warm welcome, and was supplied with armed men and financial aid in order to foment the movement in his native country. Beyond this he received the official rank of lieutenant-colonel in the Army of Independence. In the meanwhile the first stirrings of the war that was to come had already shaken Uruguay. With its capital, Montevideo, now the seat of the viceroyalty, the small province had remained more or less quiescent, lying, as it were, directly beneath the eye of Imperial Spain itself. But the awakening, when it occurred, was followed by a strenuous outbreak of activity. The first important rising took place at Paysandú, on the banks of the Uruguay River. This was crushed by the aid of the Spanish war vessels that lay in the stream. But the inhabitants, not in the least discouraged by this first check, rose again in greater numbers than before. A body of one hundred gauchos, ill-armed as it was, captured the town of Mercedes, and then, with augmented forces, marched on Soriano, which surrendered to them. This success was the signal for a general rising throughout the country. At the beginning of 1811 the Spanish garrison found themselves in the midst of a definitely hostile population. From one frontier to another bodies of men were gathering together, forging weapons from agricultural tools, and arming themselves as best they could in order that they might take their share in the struggle for liberation that was already in active being. In March the towns of Maldonado, San Carlos, and Minas rose, and the country just to the east of Montevideo itself threw off the Spanish authority and came into possession of the insurrectionist companies. On the 11th of April, 1811, Artigas returned to Uruguay in command of 150 men of the regiment of Patricios, and disembarked in the neighbourhood of that hub of all strife, Colonia. Here he was welcomed by a great number of armed countryfolk, who acclaimed him as chief of the Orientales. The movement now fairly under way, he established his headquarters at Mercedes. In the meanwhile the germ of future combinations had already been created by the appointment on the part of the Buenos Aires patriots of Rondeau as commander of the Uruguayans. Belgrano, first named for the post, had, disgraced, been deprived of it since his defeat by the Paraguayans. Artigas's first collision with the royal forces occurred at Paso del Rey, the Spanish army being completely defeated. Reinforced by a second victorious column, under Benavidez, the Uruguayans followed up the retreating regulars, and forced them to surrender. Artigas, the _Jefe de los Orientales_, had now at his disposal a force of over a thousand men. Meeting at Las Piedras with a royalist army of 1,230 men, the valour of the new levies was soon put to the test. Although the Spaniards possessed the advantage of artillery, they were in the end, after a desperate and prolonged fight that endured for half a dozen hours, defeated and forced to surrender. The doings of the patriotic force came as a blow to the Spanish authorities at Montevideo. Urged by the first tremblings of the viceregal throne beneath him, Elio cast about him for an inducement to turn Artigas from his victorious course. To this end he sent messengers offering the chieftain a heavy monetary bribe to desert the patriot cause, and to take service again in the royalist cause. Whether any offering of any kind would have tempted Artigas is doubtful. But in any case the tender was eloquent of Elio's want of acquaintance with the Gaucho temperament, to which the possession of mere cash constitutes a matter of utter indifference. As it was, Artigas treated the offer with angry contempt. The hour of the patriot leader's triumph was not without its sting. The battle of Las Piedras had won him the rank of colonel in the revolutionary forces, it is true; but Belgrano, after Suipacha, had risen to that of a general. And, although both the Buenos Aires Government and the official _Gazette_, using the soft soap of courtesy titles, referred continuously to Artigas by the honorary term of "General," the bitterness remained to give rise to future strife. Three days after his victory Artigas marched to Montevideo, and laid siege to the headquarters itself of the Spanish régime. As a preliminary to the operation an exchange of prisoners, wounded and whole, was effected. Artigas then formally demanded the surrender of the garrison; Elio responded by various sorties, all of which were repulsed. The beginning of the siege was marked by a dramatic episode. Suspecting the revolutionary sympathies of some Franciscan monks domiciled in Montevideo, Elio decided to expel these from the city. The Franciscans were led through the streets with the utmost silence at the dead of night. Arrived at the gates, the officer in charge of the escort pointed with his sword at some sparks of light that twinkled faintly in the distance. "Go you with the butchers!" he commanded, and the priests passed out silently into the darkness to join the forces of Artigas. Their influence was doubtless exhilarating to the patriot cause, but there is no evidence to show that it was employed in the cause of mercy. A few days later forty Uruguayan families suffered a similar fate. In the meanwhile Benavidez had laid siege to Colonia, the garrison of which, after a month's resistance, escaped by river to Montevideo. It was upon this latter place that the fortune of the Spanish dominion now hung. The scale of warfare was increasing in proportion to the importance of the issue. Shortly after the arrival of the reinforcements supplied by the Royalist fugitives from Colonia, Rondeau, in command of the Argentine troops, arrived to take charge of the attacking force, that now amounted to four thousand men. Artigas, now one amongst many, dropped in rank from commander to leader of horse. Rondeau had contrived to drag two heavy guns to the spot, and with these he opened fire upon Montevideo. Galled by a continuous bombardment, Elio took a more desperate step than was justified even by his situation. Carlota, the Queen of Portugal and the sister of Ferdinand VII. of Spain, had been established in Rio de Janeiro since the invasion of the peninsula by the Napoleonic armies. To her the Viceroy, seeing the last foothold of power slipping from beneath him, sent an urgent message for assistance. Ere the response to this appeal became evident the condition of the beleagured town had changed. Discouraged by the serious defeat at Huaqui of the army of Peru, the revolutionary leaders of Buenos Aires were already contemplating a retirement from before Montevideo, when the blow engineered by Elio took effect. A swarm of Portuguese, under command of General Diego de Souza, entered the Banda Oriental from the north with the purpose of overrunning the country. The Buenos Aires Government, appalled by the new turn that affairs had taken, made the utmost haste to conclude an armistice with Elio. By the terms of the treaty the patriot forces were to retire from Montevideo, and Spanish authority was to be recognised throughout Uruguay in exchange for the return of Souza's forces to Brazil. Thus Elio's unscrupulous move had succeeded for the time being, and the first siege of Montevideo came to an end. A month after its conclusion Elio retired to Spain. The command he had left was now no longer worthy of the highest rank, and the departed Viceroy was succeeded by Vigodet in the minor capacity of Captain-General. Artigas had from the first bitterly opposed this treaty, by the terms of which the Orientales were to be left at the mercy of the Royalists. That he had right upon his side from his own point of view is undeniable, although it is difficult to see by what other means the Buenos Aires Government, caught between the Spaniards and the Brazilians, could have extricated themselves from their dilemma. The treaty once concluded, however, Artigas initiated a move that in itself proved the greatness of the man. A general assembly of the patriotic Oriental families was sounded. Obedient to the call, they mustered in numbers that amounted to over thirteen thousand men, women, and children. Then followed the exodus, ordained by the stress of events, of which Artigas was the human instrument. Escorted by three thousand soldiers, the march of the families began. Carts filled with women and children, herds of cattle, troops of horses, companies of pack-mules, to say nothing of the riders themselves--the tragic procession toiled its long length northwards through the summer dust clouds struck up by the hoofs and feet from the crude earth roads. Mingled with the slowly advancing ranks, and lending still greater variety to the whole, went four hundred faithful Charrúa Indians, armed with bolas and spears. Over the rolling hills of Uruguay struggled the human thread of emigrants. Death waited on the column in the shape of heat and hardship. But, though many children and many aged folk fell by the way, the great majority won through in safety to Salto, on the banks of the Uruguay; crossed the great river in boats, and took up their abode on the Argentine shore, awaiting with anxiety the hour that might permit their return to their native land. In the meantime matters were passing from bad to worse in Uruguay. Once within its frontiers, the temptations of the promised land overcame any scruple on the part of the Portuguese concerning a too rigid adherence to the terms of the treaty. Under the convenient pretext of pacifying an already deserted country, Souza's army overran the smiling Campo, capturing towns and plundering where they might. The Spanish royalists, for their part, remained passive, and the sole opposition with which the Portuguese armies had to count was that rendered by the forces of Artigas, sent by him across the river. But, although they won a victory or two, the slender patriot bands were unable to stem the tide of invasion to any appreciable degree. It is a little curious to remark what an endless wealth of complications appear to have attended every political move at this period. In this particular instance the introduction of a new element was productive of unexpected results. Thus, when the Buenos Aires Government, realising the gravity of the situation, proposed to send reinforcements to the assistance of Artigas, the move was checked by Elio, the Spanish commander, who, forgetful of the ties of blood, threatened to join cause with the Portuguese in the event of any such intervention. As an appropriate climax to the chaotic situation, the Buenos Aires powers turned to Paraguay for assistance. The latter, inclined to assent, began negotiation with Artigas direct, and, since the Argentine Government resented this slight upon its authority, and the negotiations themselves failed to fructify, the only outcome of importance was an increase in the mutual jealousies that already existed between Artigas and the Argentines. Shortly after this, however, the tables were turned upon the Spaniards. An able stroke of diplomacy on the part of the famous Argentine, Belgrano, supported by British influence, resulted in a treaty with the Portuguese. Thus the Royalists, hoist by a second edition of their own petard, lay without allies at the mercy of the patriot forces. Preparations for a fresh siege of Montevideo were at once begun. Don Manuel Sarratea, appointed Commander-in-Chief of the Argentine Army, marched to the Entre Rios shore to join his columns with those of Artigas. The inevitable jealousies between the Argentine and Oriental leaders came to a head almost immediately. Apart from a deep personal antagonism that separated the pair, a yet more potent reason made the rupture inevitable. Sarratea, representing the triumvirate of Buenos Aires, was determined to deal with Uruguay as a province of the new Republic of Argentina. Artigas, on the other hand, although willing to acknowledge the authority at Buenos Aires from a federal point of view, insisted upon the independence of the State. It was in these circumstances that Sarratea descended upon Artigas's mixed camp of soldiers and Uruguayan emigrant families upon the banks of the Uruguay. The results of the meeting were soon evident. Artigas, complaining bitterly that Sarratea had seduced from his allegiance not only his troops but the civilian elements of the settlement, resigned his colonelcy, and separated his division from the Argentine forces. The troops now remaining to him numbered rather less than a thousand men, under the command of Otorgués, Rivera, and Manuel Artigas. In the meanwhile Sarratea, anxious that the credit for the capture of Montevideo should fall to his lot, had dispatched a force under Rondeau to lay siege once again to the town of contention that represented the headquarters of the Royalists. Arriving at the spot, he found that his task had already been forestalled to a certain extent by an independent Oriental, José Eugenio Culta. The latter _caudillo_, spurred onwards by the numerous examples of reckless initiative offered by the period, had collected a band of three hundred Gauchos. With these kindred spirits he was busily occupied in harassing the garrison to no little purpose. With the arrival of Rondeau, in October of 1812, the siege of the devoted city began on an imposing scale, the army employed for the purpose soon amounting to two thousand men. Destined to drag out its length for almost two years, the first few months of the siege were marked by two events of importance. Vigodet, having received reinforcements from Spain, made a vigorous sally on the last day of the year. At early dawn sixteen hundred men burst out from the gates of the city, surprising and routing the besieging forces as they went, until they won the summit of the Cerrito hill itself, the headquarters of the American forces. With the yellow and red of Spain flaunting from this the Royalists forgot all but their success, and expended their energies in a jubilation that cost them dear. For Rondeau, gathering together his fugitive troops with an amazing rapidity, fell like a thunderbolt upon the cheering crowd, whose joyful clamour turned to groans and death gasps as the stricken mass went reeling back into the city. An event of still greater importance occurred during the first month of the following year. Sarratea himself then journeyed to the camp before Montevideo. But he had company behind that he could not have failed to regard with considerable unease. Notwithstanding his late check, Artigas still remained a power to be reckoned with. Indeed, his vitality had risen to the occasion; he had flung out his summons far and wide, and his power was now infinitely greater than before. Thus, when Sarratea set out for Montevideo, Artigas followed grimly in his wake, having now no mean instrument by means of which to assert his rights--an army of five thousand men. Arriving on the heels of his enemy at the point of hostilities, Artigas was not slow to act. Taking full measure of his advantage, he sent peremptorily to Rondeau, demanding the immediate dismissal of Sarratea from his office of Commander-in-Chief. The order thus given to a subordinate to deal with his superior was quite in accordance with the spirit of the times. As Rondeau, however, did not immediately comply, Artigas took a very simple measure by which to prove that he did not intend to ask in vain. His Gauchos dashed full gallop into Sarratea's camp, and drove off with them all the horses that they found within the establishment. Seeing that a Gaucho army, unhorsed, is as a collection of fish on dry land, the matter was definitely settled by the act. Sarratea retired with the best grace he could muster to Buenos Aires, Rondeau remained in command, and the Oriental and Argentine leaders sat down to continue the investment of Montevideo, one jealous eye of each upon his fellow-chief, the other fixed more casually upon the beleaguered town. During the comparative lull in active hostilities that followed Artigas busied himself in the affairs of the State that he was determined to see fully created. To this end he convened a national Congress of Uruguayans, of which he was, as a matter of course, elected President, in addition to being created Military Governor of the country. One of the first acts of the new Congress was to advertise its existence by the mission of deputies to the Junta at Buenos Aires. But, the Junta refusing to recognise either an independent Uruguay or its agents, the deputies returned home to spread the tale of the rebuff, and to increase the bitterness that already lay so deep between the Buenos Aires authorities and Artigas. In January, 1814, the long series of incessant disputes was brought abruptly to a head by Artigas. In the dead of night he struck his hide tents, mounted his men, and his entire force rode away over the hills, leaving Rondeau and his army to continue the siege of Montevideo as best they might. The Buenos Aires authorities, furious at the defection, placed a price upon Artigas's head; and the Gaucho leader, equally incensed at this personal ultimatum, retaliated by declaring open war upon the Junta. Storming against the Buenos Airens, this born leader of men took his body--valued by his enemies at six thousand pesos, alive or dead--along the coast of the great river. So successful were his denunciations and the missions of his ambassadors that not only the littoral provinces of Entre Rios, Corrientes, and Santa Fé came spontaneously to his standard, but the comparatively remote province of Córdoba, following the example of the rest, proffered its allegiance. It was not long ere the news of the rupture reached the ears of Vigodet in Montevideo. Thinking to derive profit from the occasion, he made a final appeal to throw in his lot with the royal forces. The Gaucho leader in his refusal is stated to have said that "with the Porteños [Buenos Airens] there was always time for reconciliation; with the Spaniards, never!" That the time for the former consummation was not yet ripe was evidenced by the almost immediate outbreak of active hostilities between the rival South American parties. In the meanwhile Montevideo was giving out the last gasp of its imperial existence. The Spanish fleet that had assisted in its defence had been destroyed by Admiral Brown, the famous Irishman in Argentine service. Hunger and the lack of general necessaries both of livelihood and of war completed the work of arms. On the 20th June, 1814, Montevideo, after suffering intense privations, capitulated, and with its fall passed for ever the last vestige of Spanish power from the provinces of the River Plate. CHAPTER V HISTORY--_continued_ Conclusion of Spanish rule--Situation of the victors--Rival claims--Alvear defeats a Uruguayan force--Montevideo remains in possession of Buenos Aires--Rural Uruguay supports Artigas--Alliance of the Argentine littoral provinces with the Orientales--Some intrigues and battles--Success of the Uruguayans--Departure from Montevideo of the Buenos Aires garrison--The Uruguayans enter into possession of their capital--Some crude methods of government--Trials of the inhabitants--Growth of Artigas's power--The Buenos Aires directors undertake a propitiatory measure--A grim human offering--Attitude of the Uruguayan Protector--Negotiations and their failure--The civil progress of Uruguay--Formation of departments--The Portuguese invade the country once again--Condition of the inhabitants--Fierce resistance to the invaders--A campaign against heavy odds--The Portuguese army enters Montevideo--War continued by the provinces--Invasion of Brazil by the Oriental forces--Crushing defeats suffered by the army of invasion--Final struggles--The flight of Artigas--Uruguay passes under Portuguese rule. The defeated eagle was fluttering slowly homeward with broken wing. But its departure did not leave the battlefield empty. It was the turn now of the victorious hawks to rend each other. Alvear had arrived from Buenos Aires, and was now in charge of the newly won city. Scarcely had he begun his work of organisation, however, when Otorgues, Artigas's chief lieutenant, appeared at Las Piedras in the neighbourhood of the capital, and in the name of his leader demanded that the place should be handed over to the Uruguayans. Alvear's answer was unexpected and to the point. Marching his army through the darkness, he fell upon Otorgues's forces in the middle of the night, shattering them completely. Thus the Buenos Aires authorities remained for the time being masters of the city. As for their sway, the Montevideans broke out into bitter complaints that the Spanish dominion had been liberal and lenient by comparison. However this may have been, it is certain that those families noted for their allegiance to Artigas were subjected to severe penalties and restrictions. Nevertheless the situation of the advocates of centralisation had now become critical. By a curious irony of fate the position of the Junta was exactly identical with that formerly held by the Spaniards. Montevideo lay in its power; but the remainder of the Banda Oriental as well as the Argentine provinces of Entre Rios, Correntes, and Santa Fé were completely subject to Artigas. Alive to the growing power of the Protector, the Buenos Aires Government opened negotiations for a treaty, flinging out in the first place an olive-branch in the shape of a degree not only relieving the head of the Gaucho leader of the dollars set upon it, but in addition proclaiming him to the world as _buen servidor de la patria_--"a worthy servant of the country." A meeting at Montevideo resulted in the evacuation of Montevideo on the part of nearly the entire Buenos Aires garrison. These departed by river; but, instead of returning to Buenos Aires, the troops landed at Colonia, marched inland to Minas, fell upon Otorgues, whose camp lay in that district, and completely routed the force of the unsuspecting lieutenant. This achieved, the victorious army set out in search of Rivera, another of Artigas's commanders, who had recently surprised and destroyed a Buenos Aires column. In this latter leader, however, Dorrego, the Junta general, met with more than his match, and, suffering many casualties, was forced to retire to Colonia. Sallying out from here with reinforcements a little later, he was utterly defeated, and fled in haste to Corrientes, accompanied by some score of men who formed the sole remnant of his entire army. Just as the fall of Montevideo crowned the doom of the Spanish power, so this final disaster marked the end of the occupation of the town by the Buenos Aires Government. A little more than a month after the event the troops of the garrison sailed across to Buenos Aires. The following day Fernando Otorgues entered the place at the head of his troops. The advent of the new Military Governor was hailed with enthusiasm by the inhabitants. The unfurling of Artigas's blue and white standard with its red bar was answered by illuminations and fireworks by the citizens. For the first time in its history the capital of Uruguay lay beneath the command of a Uruguayan. By one of the first acts of the new régime a national coat of arms was instituted, and a flaming proclamation promised nothing short of the millennium. All this would have been very well had it not been necessary for this new benignity to be put immediately to the test. It then became evident to the depressed Montevideans that with each change of rulers their load of evils had increased. With his talents essentially confined to the field of battle, there was probably no man in Uruguay who possessed less of the lamb in his disposition than Otorgues. The temperaments of his subordinates, reckless at the best of times, had been further excited by merciless warfare. Thus the inhabitants, at the mercy of the utterly licentious Gaucho soldiers, continued to groan for relief in vain. Artigas himself had not approached the city. From points of vantage along the great river system he had ceaselessly harassed the forces of the Junta, until Alvear, its director, goaded to exasperation, collected into an army every soldier that he could spare, and, determined to put all to the hazard, sent the imposing expedition against the Gaucho leader. The adventure involved complete disaster to the director. Ere it had passed the frontiers of Buenos Aires Province, the army, encouraged by Artigas, revolted, and its chief, Colonel Alvarez Thomas, returned to Buenos Aires to depose Alvear, with whose office he invested himself. The power of the famous Oriental chief had now reached its zenith. The new director, Alvarez Thomas, acutely conscious of the Protector's power, thought of nothing beyond conciliation. Among the measures employed was one that redounded very little to his credit. Not satisfied with the public burning of the various proclamations hostile to the _Caudillo_, he bethought himself of a stake that should win for ever the regard of Artigas. To this end he arrested the seven chief friends of Alvear, and sent them as a combined sacrifice and peace-offering to Artigas's encampment. As a specimen of grim and sycophantic courtesy the callousness of the offering of seven bodies can scarcely have been exceeded in the world's history. But Artigas, contrary to the Director's expectation, failed to make the intended use of the gifts. Indeed, he treated them with no little consideration, and sent them back whence they came, bidding them tell Thomas that the General Artigas was no executioner. The next move was of the legitimately political order. The voluntary acknowledgment of the independence of Uruguay was offered in exchange for the abandonment of the protectorate over the provinces of Entre Rios, Santa Fé, Córdoba, and Corrientes. This was also refused by Artigas, who maintained that the provinces of the River Plate should, though self-governing, be indissolubly linked. During all this time Artigas remained at his encampment at Hervidero on the banks of the Uruguay River. From thence by a system of organisation that, though crude, was marvellously effective, he manipulated the affairs of the extensive region under his command, jealously watching the moves of doubtful friends and open enemies, and keeping his armed bands of remorseless Gauchos ceaselessly on the alert. This continual state of minor warfare, however, did not altogether exclude the attention to civil matters. In addition to some tentative measures of administration in Córdoba and the Argentine littoral provinces, Uruguay was partitioned off into six departments, to each of which was allotted its Cabildo and general mechanism of government. These attempts naturally represented nothing more than a drop of progress in the ocean of chaos; but there is no reason to doubt that Artigas undertook the new and peaceable campaign with no little measure of whole-heartedness. In any case the new era proved as fleeting as any of its predecessors. It was the turn of the Portuguese once again to set in motion the wheel of fate upon which the destinies of Uruguay were revolving with such giddy rapidity. It was in 1816 that the Portuguese invaded Uruguay for the second time since the natives of the land had started on their campaign of self-government. Their armies marched south from Brazil with the ostensible object of putting an end to the anarchy that they alleged was rampant under the rule of Artigas. The condition of the country was undoubtedly lamentable. Harassed by hordes of marauding soldiery or acknowledged bandits, the safety of lives and homes without the more immediate range of Artigas's influence was even more precarious than had been the case during the recent period of wild turmoil. It is true that in the districts bordering on the headquarters of the Gaucho chief at Hervidero matters were very different. Indeed, so severe was the discipline imposed by the Caudillo, and so terrible the penalties following on theft, that it is said that beneath his iron rule a purse of gold might have been left on the public highway with as little chance of its removal as though it lay within the vaults of a bank. But notwithstanding the disorder that prevailed in so many quarters, the disinterestedness of the motives that caused the Portuguese intervention need not be taken too seriously. There can be no doubt that the real object of the invasion was territorial possession rather than the amelioration of a state of turbulence that concerned Brazil to a very minor degree. To this end an imposing army of twelve thousand men marched southwards, striking Uruguay at the central point of its northern frontier. Artigas braced himself for a desperate struggle, the final result of which could scarcely be doubtful. In order to distract the attention of the advancing army he became in turn the invader, and sent a force northwards to invade the Misiones territory that, lost to the Banda Oriental, now formed part of Brazil. The manoeuvre, though adroit, was rendered futile by the preponderance of the foreign troops. In a short while the scene of the conflict was transferred to the home country. Here the entire collection of Artigas's mixed forces made a stand. Men of pure Spanish descent, Gauchos, Indians, negroes, and a sprinkling of emigrant foreigners beyond--all these fought with a desperation that was in the first place rewarded by several victories. No human effort, however, could stave off the final result. Andresito, a famous Indian leader, Rivera, Latorre, and Artigas himself were in turn defeated, and in February of 1817 Lecor, at the head of the Portuguese army, entered Montevideo in triumph. The fall of the capital did not end the war. Throughout the provinces the resistance continued unabated. On the water, too, the Uruguayans asserted themselves with no little success, and it is amazing to read that one or two of their privateers with the utmost hardihood sailed across the ocean to the coasts of Portugal itself, making several captures within sight of the Iberian cliffs. Indeed, that the authority of Artigas was still recognised to a certain degree is proved by a treaty between his Government and Great Britain that was concluded several months after the loss of Montevideo. It was not long, however, ere the inevitable complications arose to render the situation yet more hopeless. The perennial disputes with Buenos Aires became embittered to such a degree that Artigas, in sublime disregard of the Portuguese forces already in the country, declared war against the Directorate. The primary outcome of this was the defection of several of his leaders, who, as a matter of fact, foreseeing the reckless declaration, had espoused the Buenos Aires cause just previous to its publication. The sole hope of Artigas now lay in the provinces of Entre Rios and Corrientes. Even here had occurred a wavering that had necessitated a crushing by force ere a return to allegiance had been brought about. With these and the remaining Oriental forces he continued the struggle. But the tide of his fortune had turned. The beginning of the year 1818 witnessed the capture of two of his foremost lieutenants, Otorgues and Lavalleja, who were sent by the Portuguese to an island in the Bay of Rio de Janeiro. As a last effort, Artigas, daring the aggressive even at this stage, hurled his intrepid Gauchos and Misiones Indians once more over the frontier into Brazilian territory itself. A brilliant victory was followed by the inevitable retreat in the face of immensely superior forces. At Tacuarembo, in the north of the Banda Oriental, fell the blow that virtually ended the campaign. Here Artigas's army, under the command of Latorre, was surprised and completely routed with a loss that left the force non-existent for practical purposes. Shortly after this Rivera surrendered to the Portuguese, and with his submission went the last hope of success. Artigas crossed the River Uruguay, and took up a position in Entre Rios. The hour of his doom had struck; but even then, with his forces shattered and crushed, he refused to bow to the inevitable. With extraordinary doggedness he scoured Entre Rios, Corrientes, and Misiones in an endeavour to sweep up the remaining few that the battles had spared, and yet once again to lead them against the Portuguese. But on this occasion there was no response. Sullen and despairing, the majority of the remnant turned from him, and in the end his officer Ramirez, Governor of Entre Rios, threw off his allegiance, and came with an expedition to expel him from the country. Devoting themselves to this narrowed campaign, the two Gaucho leaders assailed each other with fury. Victory in the first instance lay with Artigas, despite his diminished following. Ramirez, however, received reinforcements from the Buenos Aires authorities, who had thrown the weight of their influence against their old enemy. It was against the allied forces that Artigas fought his last battle. When it was evident even to his indomitable spirit that all hope was at an end he marched northwards with a couple of hundred troops who remained faithful in the hour of adversity to the once all-powerful Protector. At Candelaria he crossed the Paraná, and sought the hospitality of Gaspar Rodriguez Francia, the dreaded Dictator of Paraguay. The latter first of all imprisoned the fugitive--probably more from force of habit than from any other reason, since Francia was accustomed to fill his dungeons as lightly as a fishwife her basket with herrings. After a very short period of incarceration, however, the autocrat came to a definite determination regarding his attitude towards the fugitive who had sought his protection. Releasing him, he treated him with a certain degree of liberality as well as with respect. Artigas was allotted a humble dwelling in the township of Curuguaty, far to the north of Asuncion, and in addition he was granted a moderate pension upon which to live. Here the old warrior, enjoying the deep regard of his neighbours, ended his days in peace, while the tortured Uruguay was incorporated with Brazil and passed under Portuguese rule. CHAPTER VI ARTIGAS The human product of a turbulent era--Historical verdicts disagree--Opinions of Uruguayan and foreign historians--High-flown tribute--The cleansing of Artigas's fame--Prejudices of some local accounts--Uruguay at the time of Artigas's birth--Surroundings of his youth--Smuggling as a profession--Growth of his influence--His name becomes a household word--Artigas enters the Spanish service--The corps of Blandengues--Efficiency and promotion--Quarrel with the Spanish General--Artigas throws in his lot with the patriot forces--His success as a leader of men--Rank accorded him--Jealousy between Artigas and the Buenos Aires generals--Conflicting ambitions--The Portuguese invasion--Artigas leads the Oriental nation to the Argentine shore--The encampment at Ayui--Scarcity of arms and provisions--Battles with the Portuguese--The subalterns of Artigas--Otorgues and Andresito--Crude governmental procedure--Arbitrary decrees--The sentiments of Artigas--His love of honesty--Progress of the war--Complications of the campaign--Artigas as Protector--The encampment of Hervidero--Revolting tales--The exaggeration of history--Artigas refuses honour--His proclamations--Simple life of the commander--Some contemporary accounts--The national treasury--Final desperate struggles against the Portuguese--Rebellion of Ramirez--Fierce battles--Extraordinary recuperative power of the Protector--Final defeat of Artigas--Flight to Paraguay--The Protector in retirement. The name of Artigas stands for that of the national hero of Uruguay. Within the frontiers of the River Plate countries and of Southern Brazil no such introduction would be necessary, since in those places have raged controversies as fierce as any of the battles in which the old warrior took part. To the average English reader, however, his name is necessarily unfamiliar, although it crops up now and again in the records of travellers who visited South America during the first quarter of the eighteenth century. Artigas was essentially the product of a turbulent era. Born in 1764, he had remained comparatively obscure until forty-six years later, when the outbreak of the South American War of Independence sent him aloft with dramatic rapidity to a pinnacle of prominence from which he ruled nations and armies--with a result that is yet the subject of considerable dispute. Perhaps never did the memory of a man meet with more honour in his own country, and with less favour without it. Argentine historians and European travellers of all nationalities have included him within the dark fold of the world's great criminals. From the mill of their analysis Artigas emerges as a bandit, murderer, traitor, a criminal who seized with audacity each of his thousand opportunities to outrage the laws of morality and decency. Apart from the testimony of the noted historians, two Swiss naturalists, Rengger and Longchamps, who penetrated to his country and whose report should be unbiassed, speak of him as one "whose life has been only a tissue of horrors, the great instrument of all the calamities which for ten years fell on the provinces of the confederation of Rio de la Plata." These convictions are echoed by a score of other authorities. For the other side of the picture it is necessary to turn to the Uruguayan writers. Their views are at least as definite and unanimous as the others. According to one, Eduardo Muñoz Ximinez, "the austerity of Cato, the purity of Aristides, the temperament of the Gracchi, the nobility of Camillus, the generosity of Fabricius--these virtues, allied to heroism and determination, have been found united within the breast of none but Artigas." This represents but a solitary note, typical of the great chorus of praise that goes up from Uruguay. Artigas, living, had little concern with compromise; dead, his spirit seems to have infected his historians with the same dislike of half-measures. In other respects this particular strand of history is as flexible as all the rest. For generations the feathers of Artigas's fame remained of undisputed black; now the active protests of the Uruguayans have initiated a cleansing process that promises to change the plumes to too blinding a white. Such impartial judgment as is possible induces the persuasion that the Argentine and foreign chroniclers, though writing in all good faith, have erred a little in relying too much upon the testimony of men who bore bitter personal enmity towards the Uruguayan leader. Artigas, in fact, reveals himself from out of the cloud of conflicting authorities as an essentially human being, swayed by the passions of the age and knowing many of its faults, wild as the age itself, but less sordid and more picturesque, and the author of some deeds, moreover, that, worked in the light of a more central and populous field, might well have sent his name to posterity with more assured honour. Artigas was born at a time that, by courtesy, was termed one of peace. A treaty of the previous year had for a short while changed the open warfare between the Spaniards and Portuguese into an unofficial series of aggressions and frontier skirmishes. Scarcely, however, had the future Protector of Uruguay attained to his twelfth year when the war broke out again, thus adding fresh fuel to the ceaseless minor hatreds and private feuds. Brought up, as one of his own apologists admits, in an atmosphere of rapine, revenge, and violence, the early surroundings of Artigas were sufficient to prepare him for the grim part he was destined to play. He could, moreover, lay claim to an especial sentimental stake in the country, since forty years before the date of his birth his grandfather had formed one of the heads of seven families who were sent from Buenos Aires in order to found the town of Montevideo. Artigas, attained to manhood, became noted for physical prowess. As was inevitable in such a land, his unequalled tricks of horsemanship and feats of strength soon gave him an ascendency over the companions of his own age. Since Artigas himself vouchsafed little information on the subject, the details of this early career are at best vague. His enemies assert that he turned brigand, and captained a band of desperadoes. It is now practically certain that this was not the case, but that he devoted himself to smuggling there is no doubt. It must be remembered that in those days contraband was not necessarily a commerce of reproach. Although its active agents were essentially of a reckless type, there were others of considerable standing who were more or less directly interested in a traffic that they held a legitimate and profitable protest against the repressive fiscal measures of Spain. It was in the sparsely populated hill country of the north that Artigas first learned to control men and to command expeditions. Once fairly settled to the work, unusually numerous convoys of laden horses and mules passed stealthily southwards from Brazil through the valleys, forests, and streams of the frontier districts, for the daring ventures of the Uruguayan leader met with phenomenal success. As a result his influence steadily increased among both the men of his own race and the semi-civilised Indians of the neighbourhood. The personality of the man with the hawk nose, blue eyes, and fair skin possessed the rare faculty of inspiring his followers with personal affection as well as with admiration. As the years went on his name began to ring in every mud cabin and reed hut, and the numbers of his adherents attained to formidable proportions. In the meanwhile the general disorder of the country had increased to a pitch that demanded active measures for its repression. In 1797 the Spanish authorities raised a special corps of Blandengues, whose duties were fairly comprehensive. Picked men, they served as cavalry, police, as guards against Indian raids, and as a force to repress the smugglers. Imbued with a wholesome respect for his power, the Montevidean Government approached Artigas by way of the line of least resistance. The Uruguayan accepted an invitation to join the corps, and soon proved himself its most capable and efficient officer. Thus we see Artigas in the blue-and-red uniform of the Blandengues, armed with a lance that sported a steel crescent below its point, chasing smugglers instead of being chased, arresting criminals, fighting with intruding Brazilians, and slaying rebellious Indians with the precautionary enthusiasm of the period. His vindication of justice was now as thorough as had formerly been his evasion of the fiscal laws. In 1802 a rapid series of promotion created him _Guarda General de la Campaña_, or guardian officer general of the rural districts. We next hear of him as taking part with his regiment against the British invaders of the country in 1807. Then, in 1810, began the South American War of Independence, and with its outbreak dawned the true career of the Uruguayan popular hero. It was not, however, until nine months or so after the commencement of the campaign that Artigas threw in his lot with the patriot forces. The immediate cause was a quarrel with his superior officer, the Spanish General Muesa. Artigas, whose spirit was not tempered to verbal chastisement, gave back word for word, until the incensed general threatened to send him in chains to the neighbouring island of San Gabriel. That night the offended officer of Blandengues crossed the broad River Plate in a small boat, was received with acclamation by the Argentine leaders, and with their aid prepared an expedition that should free his country from the Spaniard. The motives that brought about this sudden adherence to the party of independence have been much in dispute. Hostile critics assert that the change of front was merely vindictive, and that it was the revengeful fruit of wounded pride that sent him to the patriot ranks. His supporters declare positively that the dispute was of importance only in so far as it gave him reason for the long desired severance of the link that bound him to the Spanish service. Be this how it may, the figure of Artigas now looms with vastly increased bulk from the field of River Plate history. He is in command of armies now--which is the lot of many--winning battles with them, moreover, which is the luck of few. His official rank is that of Colonel, but the title of General is accorded him by all alike, whether his superiors or inferiors in grade. As for his own folk of Uruguay, they have grown to regard him as a being of almost superhuman power, and follow him with a devoted affection that speaks well for the temperament of the leader. Indeed, it was at this period that the famous Uruguayan was first enabled to show his true mettle. His armies knew little of the pomp of war. The ragged companies looked up to a chief whose garb was little more warlike and pretentious than their own. The goodwill, however, that prevailed in the midst of the Uruguayan armies was not shared by the leaders of the united forces. Jealousy between Artigas and the Buenos Aires generals had already caused a breach that political dissensions rapidly widened. Nations were in the making, and the process was attended by an almost inevitable bitterness. Buenos Aires urged a united republic, with its own town as the centre of government. Artigas strongly opposed this plan, proposing in its place a bond of self-governing provinces. Recriminations and threats were bandied to and fro between the rival patriots while the Spaniards, though closely besieged, yet retained Montevideo, and even while the Portuguese were moving from Brazil to the assistance of the monarchists. At length the Portuguese peril loomed sufficiently large to outweigh every other consideration. With a view to stemming the foreign tide of invasion, the Buenos Airens patched up a treaty with the Spanish troops in Montevideo. The despairing measure was doubtless one of necessity, but it aroused deep passion in the mind of the Uruguayan leader, who protested that his country was forsaken, and given over once again to the mercies of the Spaniards. Collecting every available man, woman, and child, he led them to the north-west, and passed the great exodus over the River Uruguay to a haven of safety at Ayui, upon the Entre Rios shore. Meanwhile, Uruguay was overrun by the invading Portuguese and by the released Spaniards, who eddied out in all directions from Montevideo. Artigas was now encamped for the first time with a translated nation and an independent army of his own. The condition of both was grimly tragic, pathetically humorous. For fourteen months almost the only shelter, that served for all alike, was afforded by the branches of the trees and the boards of the carts that had brought them. As for the army, it was composed of strangely heterogeneous elements. Honest countryfolk rubbed shoulders with professional criminals and cut-throats; Indians from the destroyed Jesuit missions went side by side with fierce-faced Gauchos; while townsmen, negroes, and a few adventurous foreigners made up the mixed gathering. The men were in deadly earnest, since the example of Artigas seems to have inspired even the most depraved with a spark from his own fire. Had it been otherwise they would undoubtedly have succumbed to the disadvantages with which they had to contend. Arms were scarce. A certain favoured few were possessed of muskets and swords; but the weapon in chief use was the lance, the national arm of River Plate folk, the point of which, here at Ayui, was usually fashioned from the blade of shears or a knife, or from the iron of some other agricultural instrument. Many, however, had perforce to be content with a long knife, with the lasso and the sling--the _boleadores_--as subsidiary weapons. Yet even these proved by no means despicable in the hands of the men whose sole garment was the ragged remnant of a poncho tied about the waist, and who exercised with poles in preparation for the time when a musket should be in their hands. It was with the aid of an army such as this that Artigas would cross the river to make his incursions among the hills of his native country, and would engage Portuguese and Spaniards alike in battles from which the desperate and motley companies of men would frequently emerge victorious. Artigas was now assisted by numerous minor chiefs, many of whom were of a character quite unfitted to stand the light of day. Otorques and Andresito were the most noted of these. The methods of the former were utterly brutal. Although the fact is contradicted, he is credited by many with the order to a subaltern officer to "cut the throats of two Spaniards a week in order to preserve the morale. Failing Spaniards, take two Buenos Airens for the purpose"! Andresito was an Indian from the deserted Jesuit missions who commanded a considerable force of his own race. He appears to have interspersed his dark deeds with some evidence of better qualities and even of a grim humour. A coarse instance of this latter is supplied when he entered the town of Corrientes in the heyday of Artigas's power. On this occasion the Indian troops behaved with no little restraint towards the terrified inhabitants, and contented themselves with levying contributions towards the clothing of the almost naked army. This accomplished, Andresito determined to exhibit the social side of his temperament. He organised several religious dramas, and followed these by a ball in honour of the principal residents of the town. These, however, failed to attend, their reluctance to dancing with Indians overcoming their prudence. On learning the reason from some crassly honest person, the enraged Andresito caused these too particular folk to be mustered in the main plaza of the town. There he obliged the men to scour the roadway, while the ladies were made to dance with the Indian troops. Although no merit or subtlety can be claimed for such methods, they at all events stand apart from the rest in their lack of bloodthirstiness. Compared with the sentiments revealed in a proclamation of Otorgues in taking possession of Montevideo, the procedure at Corrientes seems innocuous and tame. One of the clauses of this document decrees the execution within two hours of any citizen who should speak or write in favour of any other government, while the same fate was promised to one "who should directly or indirectly attack the liberty of the Province"! The humour in the employment of the word "liberty" is, of course, totally unconscious. Such proclamations, naturally, served purely and simply as a licence for convenient murder. Employing lieutenants of the kind, it is little wonder that much of the guilt of their accumulated deeds should be undeservedly heaped upon Artigas's head. Not that the Commander-in-Chief himself was inclined to put a sentimental value upon human life; indeed, a delicacy on this point would be impossible in one who had passed through the scenes of his particular calling. In any case his hatred of robbery was deep-rooted and sincere. After the execution of three criminals of this type, he proclaims to his people at Ayui: "My natural aversion to all crime, especially to the horrible one of robbery, and my desire that the army should be composed of honourable citizens ... has moved me to satisfy justice by means of a punishment as sad as it is effectual." A little later he makes a similar appeal, adding, "if there be remaining amongst you one who does not harbour sentiments of honour, patriotism, and humanity, let him flee far from the army he dishonours"! Here we get the flowers of the south, earnestly thrown, but alighting in too earthy a bed! The poor army, with its impoverished, ragged loin-cloths, and with its lassos and slings, undoubtedly valued the occasional luxury of a full stomach at least as highly as the abstract virtues. Yet they probably heard the words with sincere admiration, feeling an added pride in their beloved leader who could employ such phrases. In any case--whether as a result of punishments or proclamations--the crime of robbery soon became rare almost to extinction within the sphere of Artigas's influence. The war itself was each month growing more savage in character. Such virtues as the Uruguayan army possessed were recognised least of all by the Spaniards. Elio, the Viceroy, had erected a special gallows in Montevideo for the benefit of any prisoners that might be captured, while Vigodet, his successor, endeavoured to strike terror by measures of pure barbarity. By his order a body of cavalry scoured the countryside, slaying all those suspected of Artiguenian leanings, and exposing the quartered portions of their bodies at prominent places by the roadside. Each patriot, moreover, carried a price upon his head. It is not to be wondered at that the Uruguayan forces made reprisals, and that corpses replaced prisoners of war. A renewed campaign waged by the Buenos Aires forces against the Spaniards was the signal for the abandonment of the settlement at Ayui. Once again the Royalists were shut up within the walls of Montevideo, and at the beginning of 1813 Artigas, with his men, marched down from the north to take part in the siege. The Uruguayan came now as an assured ruler of his own people; the Buenos Aires commanders regarded him as a unit in a greater system. The result was the inevitable quarrel, and a year from the inception of the operations Artigas took the most decisive step in his career. He gave no warning of his move. The evening before had witnessed his particular portion of the field covered with horses and men. The next morning saw the ground bare and deserted: Artigas and his army were already many leagues away. [Illustration: MONTEVIDEO AND THE CERRO HILL.] [Illustration: "AFTER CATTLE." To face p. 88.] From that moment Artigas became virtual king of a torn and struggling realm. The Buenos Aires authorities, incensed at his defection, placed a price of six thousand dollars on his head, continuing meanwhile the siege of Montevideo. Artigas retaliated by a formal declaration of war upon the central Government. The hostile ramifications were now sufficiently involved to satisfy the most warlike spirit. Artigas was fighting the Buenos Airens and Portuguese, and was only prevented from coming to close grips with the Spaniards by the fact that the intervening Buenos Aires armies had already taken that task upon themselves. As it was, the influence of the national hero spread out to the west with an amazing rapidity, passing beyond the Uruguay River, and holding good upon the remote side of the great Paraná stream itself. In a very short while his dominions in Argentine territory assumed an extent four times greater than that of his native country. The provinces of Entre Rios, Corrientes, Santa Fé, and Córdoba welcomed his new tricolour standard with enthusiasm. Thus Artigas was now ruler of 350,000 square miles, with the exception of the various odd points of vantage held by the remaining three contending powers. The fall of Montevideo and the final ejection of the Spaniards from the soil was followed by the retirement of the Buenos Aires armies to their own country. Thus to Artigas's realm was added the necessary complement of a capital and some seagoing ships that served as the nucleus of a national navy. The ex-smuggler was now at the zenith of his power. It is at this point that he affords by far the most interesting picture, since the amazing medley of sentiments for which his character was responsible were now given full play. Caring nothing for pomp and ceremony, he sent Otorgues to rule Montevideo, while his other chiefs assumed control of the various districts throughout the provinces. He himself, true to his Gaucho upbringing, avoided all towns, and finally settled himself in the north-west of Uruguay. On a tableland by the banks of the great river, some score of miles to the south of Salto, he established a camp from which he directed the policy of the five provinces that owned to his rule. In the neighbourhood of this encampment of Hervidero was another, in which were confined those prisoners whose offences were not considered worthy of immediate death. Serving as it did to cleanse doubtful minds of rebellion, it was christened by the euphuistic name of Purificacion. There is no doubt that the methods employed for this exalted purpose often ended fatally for the unfortunates experimented upon. The popular tales of the deeds done at both encampments are extraordinarily revolting. Two phrases of jocular slang then much in use throw a lurid light upon the callousness of the period. "To play the violin" referred to the cutting of a human throat; "to play the viola" signified the severance of a live man's body--both gruesomely accurate similes. Men are said to have been flung wholesale into the river, attached to stones, and a peculiarly agonising form of death was engineered in the sewing up of a living victim in the hide of a freshly killed bullock, which was then exposed to the sun. The result was shrinkage, and suffocation for the miserable wretch within the reeking covering, an ending that was dubbed "the waistcoat" by a touch of similar humour. Numerous evidences of individuality, moreover, were evident in the various forms of punishment. Thus a certain Colonel Perugorria, who lay under a charge of treason, was, until his execution, chained to a post, as though he were a dog, by means of an iron collar round his neck, to which the steel links were attached. Many of Artigas's supporters roundly deny the perpetration of these horrors; yet there is little doubt that many such acts were committed throughout the various provinces. To what extent they received the sanction of Artigas is far more uncertain. The probability is that he strongly discouraged wanton torture, although it lay beyond even such powers as his to hold back the Gaucho passions when they were fiercest and to prevent the merciless acts of revenge. Many eye-witnesses have related that he exhibited emotion and pity at the sight of a humanely conducted execution. Indeed, there is no reason to suppose that Artigas, for all his errors and limitations, was not a true believer in the very lofty sentiments he used to express. One of the many examples of these is to be met with in his letter to the local authorities of Montevideo, when in 1815 they endowed him with the title of Captain-General, with the addition of that of "Protector and Patron of the Liberty of the Nation." Artigas, refusing the honour, which, nevertheless, remained attached to him, says: "Titles are the phantoms of States, and the glory of upholding liberty suffices for your illustrious corporation. Let us teach our countrymen to be virtuous. For this reason I have retained until now the rank of a simple citizen ... the day will come when men will act from a sense of duty, and when they will devote their best interests to the honour of their fellow-men." The simplicity of Artigas was innate and genuine. One of his own nationality, on a visit to Hervidera, describes the costume of the dreaded leader. On that occasion Artigas was content with the plain costume of a countryman--plain blue jacket and pantaloons, white stockings, and a skin cloak, all rather shabby. The paraphernalia of a meal was of similar quality, and in addition lamentably scanty. Broth, a stew of meat, and roast beef were served on a couple of pewter dishes with broken edges; a single cup took the place of non-existent wine-glasses; no more than three earthenware plates could be mustered, and, since the seating accommodation was restricted to three chairs and a hide box, the majority of the guests had perforce to stand. Such were the clothes and household goods of the lord of five provinces, whose armies were battling with Portuguese Peninsular War veterans and with Argentine battalions, whose vessels had borne his flag to Europe to harass hostile vessels off the coasts of Portugal itself, who made treaties with England and other powers, and whose name was all but worshipped by a hundred thousand people! J. P. Robertson, an English chronicler of the period, gives an interesting account of a meeting with Artigas. Assaulted and robbed by a band of the noted chief's adherents, he boldly set out for Purificacion to claim redress. His words deserve quotation at some length. "I came to the Protector's headquarters," he says, "of the so-called town of Purificacion. And there (I pray you do not turn sceptic on my hands) what do you think I saw? Why, the most excellent Protector of half the New World, seated on a bullock's skull, at a fire kindled on the mud floor of his hut, eating beef off a spit, and drinking gin out of a cow horn! He was surrounded by a dozen officers in weather beaten attire, in similar positions, and similarly occupied with their chief. All were smoking, all gabbling. The Protector was dictating to two secretaries, who occupied, at one deal table, the only two dilapidated rush bottom chairs in the hovel. To complete the singular incongruity of the scene, the floor of the one apartment of the mud hut (to be sure it was a pretty large one) in which the general, his staff, and secretaries, were assembled, was strewn with pompous envelopes from all the Provinces (some of them distant some 1,500 miles from that centre of operations) addressed to 'His Excellency the Protector.' At the door stood the reeking horses of couriers arriving every half hour, and the fresh ones of those departing as often.... His Excellency the Protector, seated on his bullock's skull, smoking, eating, drinking, dictating, talking, dispatched in succession the various matters brought under his notice with that calm, or deliberate, but uninterrupted nonchalance, which brought most practically home to me the truth of the axiom, 'Stop a little that we may get on the faster.'... He received me, not only with cordiality, but with what surprised me more, comparatively gentlemanlike manners, and really good breeding.... The Protector's business was prolonged from morning till evening, and so were his meals; for, as one courier arrived another was dispatched, and as one officer rose up from the fire at which the meat was spitted another took his place." The General politely took his visitor the round of his hide huts and mud hovels, where the horses stood saddled and bridled day and night, and where the tattered soldiery waited in readiness for the emergencies that arose so frequently. When Robertson submitted his financial claim, Artigas remained as amiable as before. "'You see,' said the General with great candour and nonchalance, 'how we live here; and it is as much as we can do, in these hard times, to compass beef, aguardiente, and cigars. To pay you 6,000 dollars just now is as much beyond my power, as it would be to pay you 60,000 or 600,000. Look here,' said he, and so saying, he lifted up the lid of an old military chest, and pointed to a canvas bag at the bottom of it. 'There,' he continued, 'is my whole stock of cash; it amounts to 300 dollars; and where the next supply is to come from I am as little aware as you are.'" Notwithstanding this, Robertson then and there obtained some trading concessions that, he says, repaid him the amount of his claim many times over. Surely this picture reveals Artigas more truly than all the long-winded polemics that have raged about the famous Uruguayan. It is given by one whose sympathies were against the aims of the Gaucho chief, and who has proved himself no lenient critic. Yet the description fits no mere cut-throat and plunderer. On the contrary, it reveals a virile personality, a thinker and worker of a disposition that goes far to explain the adoration accorded him by his troops. Artigas, at the hands of the visitor who had sufficient cause for his ridicule, comes to light as a _man_--contemptuous of poverty, misery, and sordid surroundings so long as his goal remained as clear and distinct as it ever was to his sight. The picture is not without its pathetic side. It shows Artigas in the heyday of his power, yet even then hard put to it to supply his men with clothes and the common necessities of life. Imagine the calm force and philosophy of a being capable of governing more than a third of a million square miles of territory with the assistance of a treasury of three hundred dollars! Nevertheless, these _opéra bouffe_ conditions represented the highest point of material prosperity to which Artigas ever attained. For five years he ruled thus, grappling desperately with the invading Brazilian armies, and resisting the efforts of the Buenos Aires forces to regain control of the four Argentine provinces that had espoused his cause. With a prosperity thus frugally marked, it is easy to conceive the circumstances of the adversity that was to come. To their credit be it said that the Uruguayans faltered not in the least in the face of the ultimate doom that must have appeared inevitable. As their ranks became steadily thinned, the invading hordes of Portuguese soldiers swelled in numbers, while the Buenos Aires attacks on the river provinces became yet more determined. Yet, wanting in everything, its more capable and intelligent officers prisoners of war, the Uruguayans fought on to the very end--gaunt, haggard men who gave back blow for blow, though their courage was often sustained by no other means than the chewing of strips of hide. One of the officers of a regiment of lancers, once the pride of the army, describes the condition of the men in the last days of the struggle. At reveille, on a chilly winter's morning, each trooper would supplement the loin-cloth that alone remained to him by a whole cowhide. Thus when their backs were turned as they retired to their quarters, the number of men could only be judged by the quantity of moving cowhides! Even then the final hour might have been indefinitely postponed but for the revolt of Ramirez, one of Artigas's own chieftains. After a homeric struggle, Ramirez obtained the victory over his old leader, and pursued him relentlessly through the provinces of Corrientes and Misiones. It was by this incessant chase alone that the victor retained his superiority. For such was the popularity of Artigas that a few days' halt sufficed for a number of fresh Gauchos and Indians to join him. When he had escaped from his penultimate defeat, accompanied by only twelve men, his pursuer lost touch with him for a week. At the end of that time the veteran had collected over nine hundred men, and was besieging Cambay, one of Ramirez's strongholds. A division was sent off post-haste to the spot, and it was here that the old warrior fought his last fight. Artigas, leaving most of his men dead upon the field, fled northwards and passed into Paraguay. The later years of Artigas present the strangest contrast to his early life. Received and sheltered after some hesitation by Francia, the dreaded tyrant of Paraguay, he was first allotted a dwelling in the north of the country, and was afterwards permitted to dwell in the neighbourhood of Asuncion, the capital. Here he lived in complete retirement and peace until his death occurred, at the advanced age of eighty-three. Both his time and the small pension allowed him by the Paraguayan Government were spent in relieving the wants of his neighbours, by whom he was regarded with affection and veneration. The keynote to the true Artigas undoubtedly lies in these last years, when in humble tranquillity he had leisure at length to practise the benevolence and charity that he had so often preached from a corpse-surrounded pulpit. Difficult as it is to withdraw the personality of Artigas from the sea of blood that flooded his age, he was surely a product of an anarchical period rather than of anarchy itself. CHAPTER VII HISTORY The Spanish colonies as nations--The first-fruits of freedom--Uruguay beneath the heel of Portugal--The advent of a second liberator--Juan Antonio Lavalleja--The forming of the league of the "thirty-three"--Opening of the campaign--The patriot force--Rank and its distribution--The crossing of the River Plate--Commencement of operations in Uruguay--A first success--Spread of the movement--Rivera embraces the patriot cause--The march upon Montevideo--A daring siege--How the army of occupation was deceived--Timely reinforcements--Lavalleja establishes an independent government--Incident at the opening of the Senate--Argentina comes to the assistance of Uruguay--Beginning of the rivalry between Rivera and Lavalleja--Dissension in the Uruguayan army--Temporary disgrace of Rivera--His acquittal--Lavalleja declares himself dictator--Uruguay's independence acknowledged by Argentina and Brazil--The national authorities enter Montevideo. The end of the year 1824 witnessed the extinction of the last vestige of the power of Spain in South America. With one solitary exception, each former Spanish colony had now raised itself to the status of a nation. It is true that in the majority of cases the inhabitants of these countries suffered not only the wildest of anarchy, but in addition a degree of despotism that had been unknown during the Spanish régime, for all the selfishness of the Peninsula Government. Yet since the flock of tyrants that rose up, each like a grim phoenix, from the ashes of the Spanish Dominion were conceived of the tortured countries themselves, the South Americans took such small comfort as they might from a dim reflection that in their own hands lay the possibility of the improvement in the rulers born from their own bone. Of these States thus freed from any other despotism but of their own making Uruguay formed the sole exception. For years she had remained beneath the heel of Portugal, writhing uneasily, but unable to remove the weight of the foreign occupation. When the time came for the full independence of the rest, however, Uruguay's longing to acquire their State was no longer to be repressed, even at the cost of the expulsion of the second European power that had fixed upon the land. The man whose name stands out as the liberator of Uruguay for the second time is Juan Antonio Lavalleja. Ceding place only to Artigas as a national hero, Lavalleja had fought in many actions against the Spaniards, and had distinguished himself not a little in the original revolutionary wars. Alternate military and civil occupations have nearly always fallen to the lot of South American public men, and Lavalleja formed no exception to the rule. At the time when the victory of Ayacucho in Peru crowned the entire campaign against the Spaniards he held the comparatively humble and prosaic post of manager of a meat-curing factory in the neighbourhood of Buenos Aires. The rejoicings that the victory of Ayacucho aroused in the capital of Argentina stirred to the depth both Lavalleja and a company of fellow-exiles from the Banda Oriental. A meeting of these patriots was held on the spot, the result of which was an enthusiastic determination to place their own country upon the same footing as the rest. Doubtless many hundreds of similar gatherings had already been effected--and concluded by vapourings of thin air. But the spirit of these men who had thus come together was of another kind. Having sworn solemnly to free their country, action followed hotfoot on the heels of words. A couple of their number were sent at once to Uruguay to prepare the minds of a trusted few, while the rest made preparations for the expedition that was to follow. The mission of the two deputies proved successful. They returned to Buenos Aires, the bearers of many promises of support and co-operation. Nothing now remained but to take the first irrevocable step in the campaign that was to bloom out from this very humble seed. "Treinta y Tres" has now developed into a proper name in the Banda Oriental; for the number of men who started out from Buenos Aires for the sake of Uruguay was thirty-three. The name has now been locally immortalised. Among the infinite variety of objects that it endows may be counted a province, a town, innumerable plazas and streets, and a brand of cigarettes. There is certainly nothing that is intrinsically humorous in the adventures of these noble men who set out for their patriotic purpose in the face of such terrible risks. Yet as a specimen of the constitution of the armies of the South American factions at this period a survey of the grades held by the small gathering is illuminating. In the first place the diminutive expedition had for its Commander-in-Chief Colonel Juan Antonio Lavalleja, who had beneath him three majors and four captains. These in turn were supported by three lieutenants, an ensign, a sergeant, a corporal, and a guide. The remaining eighteen constituted the rank and file of the force--in fact, the Army proper. The little expedition so overwhelmingly officered set out from Buenos Aires, proceeding northward along the Argentine shore. Reaching a point where the river had become comparatively narrow, they embarked in small boats, and launched out on the Uruguay at dead of night. A gale obliged them to seek refuge on a friendly island, and caused a day's delay. But the next evening they embarked once more, and reached in safety the beach of La Agraciada on their native shore. There they unfurled their chosen tricoloured banner, and swore once again to attain liberty or death. The expedition was now actually on the scene of its mission, and shortly after daybreak it began its march to the north. During the course of a few hours they collected _en route_ reinforcements of forty able-bodied and armed Orientales. Proceeding steadily onwards, the gallant little army, officers and all, found itself in the neighbourhood of the small town of Dolores, better known formerly as San Salvador. This was held by a garrison of eighty men in the service of Brazil. Determined to inflict a first decisive blow, Lavalleja led his men onwards to the attack. The moment chanced to be especially propitious, since the officers and principal men in the town had attended a dance on the previous night. So great had been the delights of the _baile_ that the principal men had found it necessary to continue their repose long into the morning--a circumstance that is not unknown even to this day. Had it not been for an error on the part of the patriot guide the town would undoubtedly have been captured by surprise and taken almost without a blow. As it was, the official chanced to mistake the situation of a ford in an intervening small river. This necessitated a lengthy march along the banks ere a place suitable for the passage was found, and the presence of the small company with the tricoloured flag was discovered with amazement by the inhabitants. Thus ere Lavalleja's expedition had succeeded in crossing the stream there had been moments of wild bustle in Dolores. Officers sprang out of bed to gird on their swords in haste; soldiers ran to assemble with uniforms even more than usually awry, while the municipal officers doubtless ran to and fro in aimless confusion. Nevertheless by the time that the turmoil was at an end the garrison had had an opportunity to muster, and to sally out against the advancing band that had not yet gained the town. Since the Portuguese forces were under the command of an Oriental, Colonel Julián Laguna, a parley took place ere the two forces met. In the end, Laguna deciding to remain staunch to the foreign cause, the thirty-three and their allies charged, routing the enemy completely. Thus in the course of their first victory they won not only the town of Dolores itself, but a number of Uruguayan volunteers who joined them from out of the beaten force. The thirty-three with their companions, delaying a very short while in the captured town, continued their march. A more pressing danger now menaced them. General Rivera, the Oriental who, having so distinguished himself in the former wars against the Portuguese, had entered the latter service when the Uruguayan cause became lost, was sent out with a force of seventy men to annihilate the daring aggressors. Here, again, when numbers and rank are compared, it will be seen that the regular forces of the country were more or less on a par with the thirty-three in their generosity in the matter of titles. Nevertheless, however it was commanded, the thirty-three were destined to gain yet further support from the force detached against them. On his near approach to the devoted band, Rivera's patriotic instincts overcame all other considerations. At a meeting contrived between him and Lavalleja the pair embraced, and Rivera forsook the Brazilian service on the spot to join the cause of his country. The addition to their ranks of the famous fighter and his men was naturally greeted with enthusiasm by the patriots, who advanced filled with renewed confidence. On the other hand, the news of the defection created no little consternation among the Brazilians, who set a price upon the heads of both Rivera and Lavalleja, valuing the former at five hundred dollars more than the fifteen hundred offered for Lavalleja, although the latter remained the actual commander of the expedition. The thirty-three had now abandoned their cautious north-west fringing of the coast. With their numbers increasing as they went, they struck for the south-east, making boldly for Montevideo itself, and defeating the various Portuguese forces that strove to oppose them. Arrived at length at San José, some three score miles distant from Montevideo, Lavalleja determined on an especially daring move that proved his appreciation of the value of prestige. From there he sent all his prisoners with a strong guard under Rivera to Durazno, and at Canelones, farther on, he detached another party to obtain recruits from the neighbourhood of Maldonado. He himself, accompanied now by no more than a hundred men, continued in supreme unconcern his march to Montevideo. Arriving upon the outskirts of the spot, he encamped on the Cerrito de la Victoria, whence, employing a colossal piece of bluff, he set himself to besiege the city. It is surely not often that a hundred men have sat down to invest a fortified town garrisoned by nearly two thousand soldiers. Yet it was in the amazing effrontery of the proceeding that success lay. On the very next day a strong force of the enemy, numbering over fifteen hundred men with four guns, sallied out from Montevideo. The hundred besiegers must doubtless have thought that all was lost; but, continuing the grim farce to the end, they opened fire to the best of their ability upon the advancing columns. The result more than fulfilled their most sanguine expectations. Convinced that the furious fusillade emanated from a powerful army, the Portuguese columns retired into the town, while the hundred men sat down again to continue the siege of Montevideo. But their number did not now long remain at this ridiculously inadequate total. By twos and tens and even by hundreds the Orientales escaped from the city, flocking to the tricolour banner until the patriot army had swollen to a degree that rendered it formidable in fact as well as in fancy. So successful, moreover, had proved Rivera's mission in the Campo that in a few days almost the whole of Uruguay was in arms against the enemy's forces in its midst. The work of the thirty-three had been extraordinarily rapid. So successful, indeed, had been the campaign that, in the place of disputing against another's authority, the moment had arrived for setting up their own, against which it should be treason to contend. In order to effect this Lavalleja withdrew personally from the siege of Montevideo, and established an independent government at the town of Florida to the north of the capital. Moved by a truly lofty sense of patriotism, he handed over his leadership to the new authorities, who responded by creating him General-in-Chief of the Army of Liberation, and by endowing Rivera with the rank of Inspector-General. On this occasion the titles conveyed some material significance, since the Uruguayan Army now amounted to two thousand five hundred men. The opening of this new Senate was attended by a dramatic incident. In order to be present at the assembly it was necessary for Lavalleja to leave the front of hostilities and to ride through rain and mud to Florida. Ere entering the Hall of Assembly he was met by several ladies, amongst whom was the wife of Rivera, who begged him to change his dripping costume before he proceeded with the official business. "Thank you, señoras," replied Lavalleja, "I will attend to that as soon as our country has its government." Within a few minutes the consummation had been achieved, and Lavalleja was in dry clothes. The story affords only one more instance of the numerous inevitable satellites that attend the passage of a notable name through the ages; but here the ingenuous simplicity of the tale is almost sufficient in itself to vouch for its truth. At this point, properly speaking, ends the story of the thirty-three. Beneath the national edifice that they had built up the minor members of the devoted band had already become lost to view. The control of affairs was now vested in a Senate and Corporations, and Argentina, hastening to recognise the existence of the independent Government, sent her armies to its assistance, stipulating that in exchange for the alliance Uruguay should become one of the provinces of the River Plate. With the survival of the first perils, moreover, the cohesion of the leaders of the famous thirty-three passed away. During the course of the final battles against the Portuguese a rivalry sprang into existence between Lavalleja and Rivera that gradually deepened into a jealous antagonism that has left its mark of bitterness upon the country to this day. With the growing certainty of the success of the cause, and, consequently, of the honours and power in store for the chosen few among the patriot ranks dissension and suspicion became rampant. One of the more immediate outcomes of this regrettable state was the falling under suspicion of Rivera. Accused of opening up negotiations with the Portuguese, he was sent to Buenos Aires for trial. Acquitted by President Rivadavia of traitorous intent, he was, nevertheless, held in prison owing to his outspoken federal views, which were in direct opposition to the unitarian doctrines of Argentina. After a while, however, he escaped from captivity, and, collecting an army, completely re-established his reputation by invading and conquering the Misiones districts that were then in the power of the Portuguese. Although the territory was in the end ceded back again, the invasion was of material effect in concluding the war. When, moreover, after the rout of the Portuguese fleet by the Argentine Admiral Brown, and the series of victories that culminated in the battle of Ituzaingo, it became evident that the expulsion of the Portuguese from Uruguayan soil was now inevitable within a very short time, Lavalleja did not wait for any definite conclusion of peace. In October of 1827, when, as a matter of fact, the terms of an armistice were still in dispute, he deposed the national Junta, and without further ado declared himself Dictator of his country. This office he held until July of the following year, when he voluntarily resigned from the post. August witnessed a formal acknowledgment of the independence of Uruguay by both Argentina and Brazil, and in November a provisional Government was established. On May 1, 1829, the national authorities, amidst no little pomp and ceremony, made a formal entry into Montevideo, and Uruguay was at last definitely left to the care of its own rulers. CHAPTER VIII HISTORY--_continued_ Foreign war succeeded by internal chaos--Warriors as statesmen--The dictatorship of Lavalleja--His methods--The first open breach between Lavalleja and Rivera--A temporary reconciliation--Establishment of the Constitution of Uruguay--Lavalleja and Rivera candidates for the President's chair--Differences in the temperaments of the two--Rivera is elected first President of Uruguay--Jealousies and intrigue--Attack upon Rivera--Narrow escape of the President--Lavalleja's party temporarily occupy Montevideo--Defeat of the insurgent general--His flight into Brazil--Intervention of the Argentine Dictator Rosas--His support of Lavalleja--Combined forces beaten by Rivera--Lavalleja's second attempt proves unsuccessful--General Oribe succeeds Rivera as President--Lavalleja's party again in the ascendant--Rivera heads a revolution--Civil war--Intervention of France--Resignation of Oribe--Rivera elected President--His alliance with the French and Corrientines--Declaration of war against Rosas--Defeat of the latter--On the withdrawal of the French Rosas resumes the aggressive--Severe defeat of Rivera and his allies of the littoral provinces--Oribe besieges Montevideo--The services of Garibaldi--The Uruguayan forces decimated--Further incidents of the war--The power of Rosas broken by Brazil, Uruguay, and Entre-Rios. For the purpose of a self-contained romance with a popular ending, the adventures of the leaders of the thirty-three should end at the moment when the liberation of the Banda Oriental became a dawning certainty, but history has an unfortunate knack of continuing where fiction ceases. The fiercest enemy of a hero is longevity. In this case the phase is especially lamentable, since although daring deeds of arms persisted, the feats were wrought, not in a joint cause against a common enemy, but amidst a turbulent confusion of sudden alliances and yet more rapid breaches between friends and neighbours that rendered impossible speculation whence the tide of battle would flow next. The three names that stood out from the very midst of the chaos of events were those of Lavalleja, Rivera, and Oribe. Since the three had fought shoulder to shoulder for their country's redemption this prominence was only fitting and just. Yet the rôle of each of the three differed widely now from his previous methods. Cohesion had departed with the enemy's forces: not so the tale of the battlefields, that multiplied until they stained the soil of the country a deeper red than ever before. The first few months of complete independence gave no inkling of what was to come. After one or two politicians had held interim offices, General Rondeau, who had rendered great services to Uruguay, was made Governor. A disagreement, however, arose between him and the constitutional assembly. As a result he resigned his post, and departed to Buenos Aires, shaking the dust of the Banda Oriental from his feet. Lavalleja was now invested with the chief office of the land. Alas for the difference between the striver after liberty and the sitter in the goddess's chair! Viewed from the lofty pedestal, freedom became distant far below and lost to sight. In short, Lavalleja became a dictator of the most arbitrary type from the very beginning of his authority. He muzzled the Press, such as it was, disbanded various battalions suspected of loyalty to his private interests, and then turned upon Rivera, his old comrade-in-arms. Not satisfied with depriving the latter of his office of Commandant-General, Lavalleja raised an army, and, intent upon destruction, marched against the man whom he feared as his most dangerous rival. The despotic Governor was not mistaken in his estimate of Rivera's power. Indeed, the result of a battle would have been extremely doubtful, had the two forces come into conflict. But the strenuous efforts of several peaceful commissions ended in a reconciliation between the leaders--a mere loose patching up of differences, it is true, but one that served for the time being. In the meanwhile the Constitution of independent Uruguay was established and sworn to, the event being greeted by the populace with wild enthusiasm. The new State was, of course, endowed with a President, whose chair remained to be occupied. As was inevitable, the two candidates for the high post were Generals Lavalleja and Rivera. Both were, perhaps, almost equally secure in the admiration of the nation. Nevertheless, the distinctions between the temperaments of the two were marked. Rivera was a democrat, a friend of the populace, whom he captivated by his intimacy and easy manner. Lavalleja's tendencies were, by comparison, aristocratic; yet it is doubtful whether he lost much in influence from his loftier pose. The first legislative act of the National Assembly came as a bitter blow to Lavalleja. In October of 1830 that body elected as President General Rivera. As a nation Uruguay had now blossomed out into a full-blown Constitution. But the youthful constitutional flower was destined to suffer an almost continuous winter of frosts. It was beyond the limits of Lavalleja's forbearance to sit quietly by and to see his rival comfortably installed in the coveted chair of state. It was not long ere the machinery of plots was set in motion. The first attempt proved all but successful. Rivera, accompanied only by a few men, chanced to be in the small town of Durazno, suspecting nothing, when a force of five hundred of his enemies descended suddenly upon the place. Their object was the capture of the President, who only escaped by leaping through a window and by swimming across the River Yi. A rising of the Charrúa Indians was the next material fruit of the campaign of intrigue; but the rebellion served no other end than the practical extirpation of the remnant of the aboriginal race that had survived until then. Very shortly after this a revolutionary movement was instigated in Montevideo itself. Headed by Colonel Garzon, who held in his pocket a commander-in-chief's commission from Lavalleja, the rising was temporarily successful. The National Assembly, intimidated, had already confirmed the appointment of Lavalleja as President, when Perez, the Vice-President, resisted, and the rest, encouraged by his example, made a firm stand. As a result, Lavalleja himself made his appearance in Montevideo, and, with his followers, occupied the municipal buildings. After an exchange of shots, however, he and his band were forced to retire. During the course of these events Rivera had been absent from the town. On receiving the news he hastened back from the country, and, placing himself at the head of an army, set out in strenuous pursuit of Lavalleja. The latter was overtaken at Tupambay. A battle ended in the shattering of his company, and, closely pursued by the President, Lavalleja fled across the northern border and sought shelter in Brazil. In the meanwhile the famous Rosas had come to power in Argentina, and the policy of this dictator was destined to awaken very material echoes in Uruguay. Lending support to Lavalleja, he sent a force of three hundred men across the river. In order to create a diversion, these captured the town of Melo from the Government party. Their triumph was fleeting. Beaten shortly afterwards by Rivera in person, the invading force fled to Brazil. But the end of the tide of invasion had not yet come. At the beginning of 1834 Lavalleja, aided by further contingents furnished by Rosas, descended once more from the north into his native country. On this occasion the events of his former attempt were repeated with equally disastrous results to himself. Beaten once again, he sought Brazil, the sheltering spot of all the atoms of Uruguayan turbulence. A little after this the four years of Rivera's term of office expired. It was now the turn of another of the thirty-three, General Manuel Oribe, to enter the arena. Oribe was a warrior as well seasoned as the others. He had fought strenuously under Artigas's standard; but at the coming of the crisis, declaring that he could no longer serve under such a tyrant, he joined the Buenos Aires cause. Later, he had formed one of the most prominent members of the thirty-three. Becoming embroiled in the disputes of the period, he had found himself in opposition to Rivera, although he had to thank the President for promotion in rank. In March of 1835 General Manuel Oribe was created the second constitutional President of the Republic. One of his first cares was to undermine the weighty influence of Rivera, in whose power he saw a menace to his own office. The new President began the campaign by summoning back to their country all those _Lavallejistas_ who had been living in forced exile in Brazil and Argentina. Then, in order to deliver a death-blow to a rival's prestige, he deprived the late President of his rank of commandant-general. Exasperated beyond endurance at this latter move, Rivera immediately made his appeal to the only authority that was understood at the period--that of arms. The insurrection attained almost immediately to formidable proportions. Indeed, there is no doubt that the malcontent cause would have been successful almost immediately had not Rosas intervened. As it was, the Dictator sent over from Argentina to the assistance of the Government five hundred troops, under the command of Lavalleja, who had thrown in his lot with Oribe against his arch-rival. As a preliminary to the actual hostilities Oribe sent forth a thunderous proclamation, in which Rivera was branded as a traitor to his country. The first battle ended in favour of the Government, the forces of the rebellion leaving over two hundred dead upon the field. The chief historical importance of the contest, however, lies in the fact that on this occasion were used for the first time the red and the white colours that distinguished the respective forces of Rivera and Oribe and that have ever since remained the emblems of bitter strife. The fortune of war varied for a while. After numerous indecisive skirmishes, Rivera won an action at Yucutuja, while a month later Oribe was successful in a battle on the banks of the River Yi. Then followed the decisive battle of Palmar, from which the Government forces emerged no longer as an army, but merely as a scattering of fugitive stragglers. In the meanwhile foreign influence, in addition to the lot of war, had veered in favour of the revolution. The arbitrary methods of Rosas, extended to foreigners resident within the land, had caused him to become embroiled with France. Thus the northern power, in addition to the institution of a blockade of Buenos Aires port, was only too glad of the opportunity of frustrating the plans of the Argentine despot in Uruguay. Allying their forces with those of the revolutionists, they captured the island of Martin Garcia from the Government troops, and were preparing further active measures of aggression when Oribe realised the hopelessness of his plight. Adopting the sole course that was left him, he resigned his office of President, and sailed for Buenos Aires, accompanied by his late ministers, and a considerable following of private friends. Rivera's road to the return of power was now clear. In November of 1838 he made a triumphal entry into Montevideo, and in due course the National Assembly elected him President for the second time. One of the first acts of the new chief of the State was the avenging of Rosas' late interference in favour of his rival. Allying himself with the French Government and the Province of Corrientes, he declared war--not against the worthy Argentine nation, as was carefully explained in the proclamation, but against the "tyrant of the immortal people of South America." Rosas was never slow in responding to a challenge of the kind. Scarcely had the declaration of hostilities been made when he sent an army of six thousand men to invade Uruguay. Rivera, his forces strengthened by a thousand French volunteers, marched to meet the enemy, and at Cagancha he obtained a signal victory, the Argentine troops being defeated with heavy loss, and thus forced to abandon their campaign in Uruguay. It seemed as though the event had put the seal upon Uruguay's success. But the fortunes of the period were as erratic as the period was turbulent. Very shortly after the Battle of Cagancha the differences between Rosas and the French were settled, with the result that an armistice was effected. With the raising of the blockade of Buenos Aires and the departure of the French troops from the country, it was the turn of Rosas to laugh, for his enemy now stood before him single-handed. On this occasion the first aggressive steps were taken by the naval forces. In 1841 the Argentine fleet, under Admiral Brown, made a practical end to Uruguayan sea power. Some minor vessels that were subsequently collected were given in charge of the Italian Garibaldi, and the famous guerilla leader carried on with them a war of privateering, without, however, meeting with any material success. In a desperate attempt to stem the formidable tide of Rosas's power, the three provinces of Corrientes, Entre Rios, and Santa Fé allied themselves with Uruguay. From the joint States Rivera raised an army of seven thousand men. But even this heroic effort did not suffice. Boldly marching through Entre Rios towards Buenos Aires, Rivera found himself brought to an abrupt halt by the unexpected appearance before him of his old enemy, Oribe, at the head of an imposing army of fourteen thousand men. The ensuing battle, fiercely fought, ended in an overwhelming victory for the superior forces, nearly a thousand of Rivera's men being massacred in cold blood on the conclusion of the fight. The beaten President retired from Entre Rios with the remnants of his army, while Oribe likewise crossed the Uruguay River, and marched leisurely southwards from Salto towards Montevideo. In due time his armies arrived before the capital, which they forthwith proceeded to invest, thus commencing the great siege of the place that endured for nine years. The circumstances of the beleaguering are too numerous and complicated to bear recapitulation here. One of the most notable features of the earlier days was a proclamation issued by Oribe to the effect that he would spare no foreigners whose sympathies lay with the "rebels," as he termed the Government of Rivera--or rather of Joaquín Suárez, who had taken the defeated President's post in Montevideo. The result of the proclamation was exactly the reverse of that anticipated by Oribe, since the foreigners responded by raising legions of their own and by flocking to the active defence of the town. The capital, however, was closely invested by sea as well as by land, Garibaldi's flotilla finding itself unable to make any headway against Admiral Brown's blockading fleet. In the meanwhile Rivera had not been idle. With the amazing recuperative power that was characteristic of so many of the noted leaders of the period he had scraped together from the countryside a force of nearly four thousand men. With these he harassed the rear of the besieging force to such effect that the Buenos Aires Government, in order to leave the blockade undisturbed, raised a fresh army, and sent it, under the command of General Urquiza, to cope with the unexpected source of danger. Urquiza came up with Rivera at India Muerta, and the result was fatal to the Uruguayan force. The end of a desperate conflict saw nearly a thousand of Rivera's men lying dead upon the Campo. In accordance with the drastically conclusive methods of the age, the number of prisoners was small by comparison. As to the surviving remnant, it was scattered to the four winds on the face of the downlands. The terrible defeat of India Muerta deprived Rivera of his military prestige and Uruguay of her last hope of aggressive warfare. Cooped up in Montevideo, the Government appealed in despair for foreign intervention. England and France, viewing the policy of Rosas with dislike, complied with the request. But in the end their interference proved futile, although the combined European forces went the length of blockading the Argentine ports, and of defeating Rosas's troops on the banks of the Paraná. Rivera in the meanwhile had fallen upon evil days. His last defeat had involved him in straits that went beyond even the loss of men and power. The fatal day won for him, unjustly enough as it proved, the active suspicion of his own people. Doubtful of his loyalty, the Montevideo Government applied to Brazil for his banishment to Rio de Janeiro. The petition was acceded to; but the Uruguayan leader seemed a veritable human phoenix in his ability to spring undismayed from the ashes of each successive disaster. With the ultimate object of taking an active part once again in his country's defence, he succeeded in getting himself appointed by Montevideo as Minister Plenipotentiary to Paraguay. Rivera, however, had no intention of proceeding to take up his office. Once free of Brazil, he sailed boldly down the river to Montevideo, and raised the popular opinion of the capital so much in his favour that, after a short period of disturbance in the beleaguered city, he was once again endowed with trust and command. He took himself forthwith to the Campo, where he resumed his warlike operations with varied success. Nevertheless, it was many years ere this particular period of Uruguay's strenuous vicissitudes came to an end. The year 1851 marked one of the numerous dawns in the fortunes of the land. Then an alliance was concluded between Uruguay and Brazil, while the famous General Urquiza, revolting against the Buenos Aires tyrant, brought the forces of Entre Rios to join the league that was now formed against Rosas. The result was the Battle of Monte Caseros, in which the combined forces made an end to the dictator's power, and caused him to flee to Europe. The soil of Uruguay was once again free from hostile troops. During the fleeting period of peace that followed, it is necessary to take leave of two of the three Orientales who had ridden to such purpose on the breath of the whirlwind. A little more than two years after the Battle of Monte Caseras, Lavalleja died at Montevideo. In harness to the end, the liberator of his country ended his career just as he had once again been elected to take a share in its government. Three short months later Rivera followed his old comrade and enemy to the land where the cavalry lance is unknown and where no gunshot crashes echo. CHAPTER IX HISTORY--_continued_ Condition of Uruguay at the conclusion of the war against Rosas--Measures for the relief of poverty--Juan Francesco Giro elected President--The arising of antagonistic elements--Giro resigns in favour of Bernardo Berro--A revolution ends in the formation of a triumvirate--On the death of Lavalleja and Rivera, Flores becomes Dictator--Rebellion against his rule--Brazil sends an army to the assistance of General Flores--Further revolutionary movements--Manuel Basilio Bustamente succeeds Flores--The policy of General César Diaz--His exile and return at the head of an army--Defeat and death of Diaz--Two interim Presidents--Continuous civil war--General Flores enters the Republic in command of a strong force and is declared Dictator--The Paraguayan war--Causes of its outbreak--The policy and military strength of Paraguay--Strategic errors--Uruguay's share in the campaign--Flores returns to Montevideo from the seat of war--His assassination--General Lorenzo Batlle elected President--The continuance of political unrest--Various presidents and dictators--The Government of the present day--Don José Batlle y Ordoñez--Doctor Claudio Williman--The Uruguayan battle-fields in tabular form--Progress of the land. With the Battle of Monte Caseros and the fall of Rosas the range of episode enters comparatively modern times. Although the war had ended successfully for the Uruguayan cause, its conclusion left the country in an utterly impoverished and desolate condition. Through the terrible stress of events in a land of such infinite natural resources the population was roofless, and in many districts actually at the point of starvation--an unheard of situation for such a country. As for the treasury, it was virtually empty, and the harassed Government found itself under the necessity of seeking for loans from without its frontiers on any terms that it could obtain. On the 1st of March, 1852, Don Juan Francisco Giro was elected as the fourth constitutional President of Uruguay. The newly elected chief of the State made desperate efforts towards ameliorating the financial condition of the country, but political complications were destined to work against success from the very start. A fortnight after he had assumed power the Uruguayan army that had borne a brilliant share in the victory of Monte Caseros returned home from Buenos Aires. Its commander, General César Diaz, was acclaimed as a popular hero, and was promptly created Minister for War and Marine, although his sympathies were directly opposed to the Government. It was not long ere the antagonistic elements that now surrounded him led to the resignation of Giro, who in October delegated his authority to Don Bernardo Berro. The latter, however, was able no more than his predecessor to restrain the tide of partizanship, and in July of 1853 an open revolution broke out, headed by General Diaz and Colonel Palleja. The outbreak occurred during a review in the centre of Montevideo, and, dramatically conceived, proved definitely successful within the course of a few minutes. In the first instance Berro was forced merely to appoint a fresh set of ministers, whose views were hostile to his own; but very shortly afterwards the President was obliged to vacate his post in haste, and to take refuge in the French legation. At the end of September, 1853, a triumvirate was formed of Generals Lavalleja, Rivera, and Colonel Flores. The deaths of both the former occurred ere the new regime could be adopted in practice, and thus the survivor, Colonel Venancio Flores, was elected to complete the term of the presidency that Giro had vacated. He had scarcely taken charge of the reins of government, however, when his authority was rebelled against, this time by the party who had lately been in power. Leaving General César Diaz in charge of the Government, Flores himself headed a successful campaign against the revolutionists, at the end of which his military rank was raised to that of General. The unrest did not long remain quelled. Indeed, so threatening did the situation become that Flores appealed to the Brazilians for aid. In response the northern republic sent an army of four thousand men, who occupied the principal cities of Uruguay. The result, as may be imagined, was a yet more marked seething of discontent. In 1855, despite the presence of the foreign troops, the Colorado, or red party, now definitely formed, revolted, and by force of arms obtained possession of the capital for a while. The success of the revolutionists was short-lived. General Oribe and many other members of the Blanco, or white, group, came to the assistance of Flores. In the end a compromise was effected. The revolutionists retired; Flores resigned his post, and Don Manuel Basilio Bustamente was elected as temporary President. At this stage of Uruguayan history, however, space does not permit a detailed description of the various revolutions that followed the one upon the heels of the other, and that were separated by intervals of merely a few weeks or months. An event of striking importance, however, occurred in 1858, during the presidentship of Don Gabriel A. Pereira. The latter had been opposed by General César Diaz, who had stood as an unsuccessful candidate for the office, and the inevitable jealousies soon became embittered once more to the point of active explosion. The policy of Diaz was now to incorporate the Banda Oriental with the Argentine Provinces, and thus to form a single country that should be known as the United States of La Plata. On the discovery of his plan Diaz was exiled to Buenos Aires, and with him many of the more prominent members of the Colorado party. Diaz, however, soon made his way back across the river, and, collecting an army of eight hundred men, marched upon Montevideo, his forces swelling in numbers as he went. Unsuccessful in its attempt upon the capital, the revolutionist army retired, and, after an indecisive battle or two, met with total defeat at Cagancha. Diaz was taken prisoner in this action, and was shot in company with fifty of his followers. The remainder of Pereira's term of office passed in comparative tranquillity. He was succeeded in 1860 by another representative of his own party, Don Bernardo Berro, who was elected in constitutional fashion. Three years later, however, General Flores entered the arena of politics once more. The pretext under which hostilities broke out was slight enough in itself. A refusal on the part of the Government to permit the celebration of the anniversary of the Battle of Quinteros had enraged the Colorados, and Flores, espousing their cause, led an army into the field. A lengthy series of battles ensued, in the majority of which Flores was successful. While the war was still raging, Berro, having completed his term, was succeeded as President by Don Atanasio Aguirre. Flores, however, having now obtained the active support of Brazil, was carrying all before him, and in February of 1865 he entered Montevideo in triumph, and was proclaimed provisional Governor and then Dictator of the Republic. In recapitulating the history of Uruguay at this period the incessancy of the stream of warlike events is amazing. Scarcely had Flores seated himself upon what was virtually the throne of his dictatorship when an event of international importance, the Paraguayan war, occurred that was destined to convulse three republics and an empire. The pretext on which war was declared was the armed intervention of Brazil in the affairs of the Banda Oriental, and the support lent to Flores by the Brazilian army--an interference that Francisco Solano Lopez, the tyrannical Dictator of Paraguay, took upon himself to resent hotly. Yet, even had not this particular bone of contention come into being, the war was undoubtedly inevitable. Paraguay's distrust of Brazil, and the latter's dread of the really formidable military forces that the inland republic had gathered together, had piled up a situation that only the faintest flame was required to set ablaze. The military strength of Paraguay at this period was considerable. With an army of eighty thousand men of wild courage, backed by an adequate number of cannon, she might well have bidden defiance to any other single republic of South America. But her strength was exceeded by her confidence. Desirous of sweeping all before him, Lopez divided his forces, and dispatched an army to the north in order to invade Brazil, while another corps was told off to strike in a south-easterly direction. In order to effect this latter move it was necessary to obtain Argentina's consent to cross her province of Corrientes. This permission, which would have involved a breach of neutrality, was, not unnaturally, refused. Incensed at this check to his plans, Lopez declared war upon Argentina, and occupied the province of Argentina by force of arms. In the meanwhile Flores, in return for the support he had received from Brazil, threw in the lot of the Banda Oriental with that of the northern empire. Thus Paraguay found herself face to face with the allied powers of Brazil, Argentina, and Uruguay, and a struggle ensued that cost the lives of tens of thousands ere the death of Lopez ended the long and desperate fight, at the conclusion of which Paraguay stood all but bereft of her adult manhood. Flores assumed command of the Uruguayan forces that took part in the campaign, and the Oriental division distinguished itself on numerous occasions in the course of the arduous conflict. Fifteen months after the beginning of the war Flores found it necessary to return to Montevideo, where, in spite of the foreign campaign, symptoms of internal unrest had again become evident. Here in 1868 he met with the fate that had passed him by in the course of the Paraguayan war. Learning that a _coup d'état_ had suddenly come about, and that a body of men had taken the Government House by assault, Flores without delay started out in his carriage to gain the scene of action. This move, as a matter of fact, had been foreseen by the conspirators, and a broken-down wagon blocked one of the streets through which he had to pass. As the General's carriage came to a halt in front of the obstruction, a group of men rushed out from the neighbouring doorways, and a minute later the body of Flores, mortally wounded by gunshots and knives, was left lying in the roadway. This tragedy, however, was of little material assistance to the Blanco party. Indeed, the sole result, so far as they were concerned, was the execution of one or two of their leaders. The power remained with the party of the dead Flores, and General Lorenzo Batlle was elected President, ruling with no little determination despite the frequent revolutionary movements that continued to occur. On various occasions, it is true, the situation of the Government became critical enough, and in 1870 the capital itself was besieged by the insurrectionists; but in the end Batlle prevailed, and the insurrectionists were repulsed, at all events for the time being. Beyond these warlike episodes much of importance occurred during the rule of this President, which lasted until 1872. Two distinct catastrophes marked the years 1868 and 1869. The former was darkened by a terrible visitation of cholera, while during the latter a financial crisis arose that caused the ruin of many thousands of Oriental families. Nevertheless, the year 1869 is to be marked in white among the milestones of Uruguay's progress; for it was then that the railway was inaugurated, and a line completed between Montevideo and Canelones that marked the first falling into line of the Republic with the more advanced countries. The next President, Doctor José Ellauri, failed to complete his term of office. In January of 1875 a military revolution forced him to take hasty refuge in a Brazilian warship that was lying in the port of Montevideo, while Don Pedro Varela was acclaimed by the army as chief of state. Raised to power at the point of the bayonet, Varela found it necessary to sustain his post by the same force. Although his armies succeeded in suppressing the numerous popular risings, the dissatisfaction in the end became so general and a condition of monetary crisis so pronounced that Varela was forced to resign. [Illustration: LAGO DEL PRADO: MONTEVIDEO.] [Illustration: THE PRADO: MONTEVIDEO. To face p. 124.] Colonel Latorre next assumed power as Dictator. His handling of this dangerously powerful office was liberal, and after three years of office he was elected in 1879 as constitutional President of the Republic. Almost immediately after this, however, the political situation became too complicated for his patience, and he vacated his post, declaring, it is said, that the Uruguayans were ungovernable as a race. Doctor Francisco Vidal, who succeeded him, was replaced in 1882 by General Santos. Although no marked internal disturbances occurred during the presidentship of this latter, the Blanco party were making strenuous efforts just outside the frontiers of the Republic to organise a revolutionary campaign on a serious scale. In 1886, when his office was completed, Santos caused Vidal to be elected once more, meaning to succeed him again, as he had already done on a previous occasion. No sooner had Vidal occupied the presidential chair than the threatened revolution broke out. General Santos, at the head of the Government forces, effectually suppressed the rising, whereupon Vidal resigned in his favour. A governmental crisis ensued; the Ministry resigned in a body, and Santos was wounded in the course of an attempt upon his life. Efforts towards the keeping of the national peace were now made on both sides, and by means of strenuous endeavour a mixed Ministry was formed. Known by the title of "the Ministry of Conciliation," the new Government was acclaimed with enthusiastic rejoicings throughout Uruguay. Shortly after its formation Santos proceeded to Europe in order to obtain a complete recovery from his wound, and General Tajes was elected President of the Republic. During Tajes's term of office and that of his successor, Doctor Julio Herrera y Obes, matters remained fairly quiet. In 1894 Don Juan Idiarte Borda became chief of state by election, and three years later a revolution on the part of the Blanco party broke out afresh. At the end of six months' fighting Borda was assassinated in the streets of Montevideo, and the tragic event was followed by the patching up of a temporary peace. Don Juan Lindolfo Cuestas, who next assumed control of the Government, was successful in bringing about a treaty with the Blanco party, and in September of 1897 the revolutionists laid down their arms. We now arrive at a period that is practically that of the present day. In 1903 Don José Batlle y Ordoñez was elected President. For the first year of his rule he had to contend with further risings of the Blanco party, in the course of which numerous battles were fought. In the end the Government forces were signally successful, and in September of 1904 peace was signed and a general amnesty declared. In 1907 Doctor Claudio Williman succeeded Señor Batlle. The first years of his tenure of office passed in tranquillity; but at the end of 1910 the Blancos became active once more, and various actions were contested ere the Government troops once more obtained the mastery of the situation in January of 1911. Having thus brought this rough sketch of Uruguayan history to its conclusion at the present day, it must be admitted that the trend revealed throughout is distinctly warlike. Indeed, the battles that have reddened the soil of the Banda Oriental since its first colonisation are amazingly numerous. I have compiled a list of some 120, and were minor skirmishes included a volume would be needed to contain the list. It is, indeed, the militant portion of history that must necessarily stand out chiefly in a cursory survey such as this. The progress of industry, education, science, and art by the side of the roar of strife is necessarily a silent one. Its course has been none the less forceful for all that; and universities, schools, national institutions of every kind, port-works, and the general paraphernalia of commerce testify to the fact that Uruguay has not permitted her numerous internal struggles to divert the nation from its true forward march. In at least one sense the situation renders tribute to the virile qualities of the Uruguayan. For there are surely few nations that can exhibit a battle-roll such as this, and yet at the same time produce convincing evidence of prosperity and progress. With a proper manipulation of the great national energies, and their devotion to the pursuits of peace alone--tendencies that are becoming each year more marked--the prospects of the Banda Oriental would excel even the present fair promise of her future. CHAPTER X URUGUAYAN MANNERS AND CUSTOMS The temperament of the Oriental--Some merits of the race--The Spanish Main as treated in fiction--Distinction between the villains in print and in actual life--Civility as a national trait--Courtesy of officials--The Uruguayan as a sturdy democrat--A land of equality--Some local mannerisms--Banquets and general hospitality--Some practical methods of enjoying life--Simplicity versus ostentation--Some consequences of prosperity--The cost of living--Questions of ways and means--European education and its results--Some evidences of national pride--The physique of the Oriental--Sports and games--Football--The science of bull-fighting--Eloquence and the oratorical art--Uruguayan ladies--Local charm of the sex--South American institutions--Methods by which they have been improved--The advantages of experiments--The Uruguayan army and navy--Some characteristics of the police--Honesty of the nation--Politics and temperament. Life in Uruguay is perhaps best described by the German word _gemüthlich_, an untranslatable adjective that savours in its birthplace just a little of light beer, easy-chairs, cigar smoke, steaming coffee, and an atmosphere of _camaraderie_. After which it is necessary to come to an abrupt halt in this task of translation, since the danger of dragging in a foreign word becomes evident when it is necessary to introduce another in order to explain it. In any case, this good-fellowship of the Uruguayan is of a far lighter order than the Teutonic, and is only remotely concerned with the material matters of life. Like the majority of the races of Iberian descent, the Oriental is essentially sober in his tastes, and frequently of an ascetic temperament. Such traits are inborn and natural, and by no means the result of a campaign of schooling and self-repression. He has not, for instance, found it necessary to undergo an outward treatment of badges and blue ribbons nor to devote himself to a special era of self-protection from the like of which the chastened Anglo-Saxon is only just emerging. For generations the Spanish Main has afforded a lucrative field to the writers of pure sensationalism--if the word be allowed. Their choice has undoubtedly been a wise one, and a judicious compound of fair creoles, satanic dons, swashbuckling pirates, and heroes of the tenderest age has proved an almost inexhaustible gold-mine of really lurid fiction. Yet it cannot be said that this fervid literature has led to a complete understanding of the South American character by the British youth. As to the popular and stirring villainies, I will not attempt to deny that in the past deeds have been enacted that were as terrible as those which have shuddered in print between gaudy paper covers. There were many beyond, infinitely worse, and altogether unthinkable. But the perpetrators of these were seldom enough of the stereotyped temperament as portrayed by the blood-and-thunder authors. Alas for the double-dyed deceit that lurked between the terrific drunken orgies! The real chief organisers of such colossal outrages as have obtained went about their business with a directness that was worthy of a better cause, and reddened the pages of history with a strictly methodical and painstaking industry. Moreover, they were as sober as an infant of eight at a Band of Hope festival. But all this has very little to do with the present-day dwellers in Uruguay, and their habits and customs. The atmosphere of the country is essentially one of civility. If you would learn the temperament of a nation, mark the behaviour of its humbler public functionaries! In fact, one of the first steps that a student of national character should take is merely to ask a policeman the first question that enters the mind. In order to apply the severest test the query should be a crassly foolish one. In France may be expected vivacious expostulation, in Germany an explosion of imperative military sounds, in Holland a placid non-comprehension, in Portugal a pathetic eagerness to satisfy at all costs--I have tried all these, and more beyond than would stand inclusion here without the risk of wearying. The Uruguayan policeman, in his uniform of British pattern, is essentially courteous, while the manners of the tram conductors, railway guards, and those other genii of transit in whose hands the fate of the traveller lies are equally to be commended. [Illustration: THE PRINCIPAL PLAZA: MONTEVIDEO.] [Illustration: THE HARBOUR: MONTEVIDEO. To face p. 130.] The absence of sycophancy that is characteristic of nearly all South American Republics is especially marked in Uruguay. A sturdy democracy is evident here even amongst those whose menial service is of the nature to evoke professional obsequiousness in other parts of the world. The waiter, for instance, will serve with brisk attention, but at the end of the repast he will as often as not pocket the customary tip as a matter of course that is unworthy of comment, to say nothing of thanksgiving. At the same time, it is certain that he would bear no grudge against a well-acquainted patron who had omitted the ceremony altogether. At a genuine Uruguayan hotel the returning guest who has been fortunate enough to win the esteem of the hall porter will find his hand cordially grasped in greeting by that official. The Banda Oriental is a country of discrimination and individuality where personality counts and where popularity is a very material asset. Such a land as this is undoubtedly a home of opportunity. The hospitality of the higher classes is proverbial. Indeed, reputable conviviality of all kinds is at a premium. In Montevideo the occasions for the giving of banquets are numberless. Thus if a man has achieved something in particular it is necessary that a banquet should mark the event, if he has expressed his intention of achieving anything in particular, a banquet forms the appropriate prelude to the work, and if he has failed to do anything in particular, there is nothing like one of these selfsame banquets to console him for the disappointment. It is, in fact, much to the Uruguayan's credit that he contrives to extract a vast deal of enjoyment from life in a comparatively homely and unostentatious manner. The race meetings here, for instance, are most pleasant functions, although the horses are not burdened with the responsibility of those tremendous stakes that prevail in some other parts. The theatres, too, although they obtain the services of excellent companies, are moderate in their charges--moderate considering the usual scale that prevails in South America, that is to say. The advent of a prosperity, however, that now seems more definite than ever before has produced a similar effect upon household expenditure as in the neighbouring countries. The cost of living has risen by leaps and bounds during the past two or three years--a fact that salaried foreigners resident in the country have found out to their somewhat acute inconvenience. In the Campo, naturally enough, this phenomenon of ways and means has not occurred. When live stock and acres are numbered only by the thousand such annoying matters as house-rent and the butcher's bill fail to carry any significance. Nevertheless, in Montevideo the former has practically doubled itself within the last half-dozen years, and all similar items have followed suit as a matter of course. But the rise in the price of land signifies prosperity, and is at all events welcome enough to those directly interested in the soil. South America, taken as a whole, is a continent whose inhabitants are not a little addicted to ostentation. The phase is natural enough in view of the conditions that obtain in so many of the Republics. In the case of the pastoral countries, even in quite modern times the broad lands had lain comparatively valueless until the introduction of the freezing process for meat and the opening up of the great wheat and maize areas sent up the price of the soil by leaps and bounds. Yet even prior to this era a certain amount of prosperity had prevailed, and young South Americans had become accustomed up to a certain point to wend their way for educational purposes to France and to England, and thus to assimilate European ideas with those that prevailed at the time in the republics of the south. The sudden advent of overflowing wealth thus found them to a great extent prepared to introduce the most high-flown of modern ideas into the life of their own country. No doubt the very consciousness of these riches that, head for head, undoubtedly far surpass that of the dwellers in the old continent, caused the South Americans to fling aside the last vestige of pastoral simplicity and to make the roots of this great wealth of theirs bud out into residential palaces and entertainments of a rather fabulous order. Since they had shown clearly enough that their material gains had surpassed those of Europe, what more natural than that they should endeavour to prove with equal conclusiveness their ability to outshine the continent of their ancestors in the ornamentation and luxuries that follow automatically in the footsteps of fortune! Surely the trait is nothing beyond the proof of a healthy rivalry. The Uruguayan is curiously free from all evidence of this ostentation. The life he leads is well supplied with comforts, but its tendency is simple. Thus, although a very fair number of well-turned-out carriages and motor-cars exist in Montevideo, they are seldom to be seen parading to and fro in imposing processions along an avenue or street specially adapted for the purpose, as is the case in many other cities. Rather less rigorous tenets, moreover, obtain in the case of the costume of the male city dwellers, and the whole atmosphere of the country, in fact, is one of plain comfort that has little concern with outward display. Uruguay, for the present, at all events, has retained its democracy. Whether it will continue to do so when the national wealth has become more consolidated is another matter. The physique of the Uruguayan men is of a distinctly high order. Well-set-up and fresh-complexioned, they represent a favourable testimonial to the climate of the country. In all equestrian exercises they are, as may be imagined, past masters, and they have proved themselves apt pupils at sports and games of all kinds. As is general throughout almost the length and breadth of South America, football is much in vogue here, although, owing merely to the scarcity of the population, the ubiquitous game is less played in the country districts than is the case in Argentina. The art of bull-fighting still obtains in Uruguay, notably at Colonia, on the banks of the river, where a large new edifice has been erected for the benefit of this, I think, regrettable sport. _Espadas_ from Spain frequently come out to perform here; but with the exception of Colonia, that attracts the tourist class from abroad, the haunts of bull-fighting lead only a precarious existence in the Republic. The Oriental is undoubtedly a man of deeds; but in his case the tendency to action is not effected at the expense of speech. He is, indeed, a born orator, and on the slightest provocation will burst forth into a stream of eloquence that can be quite indefinitely continued. In any case, it is pleasant enough to listen to the resounding periods in which the customary lofty sentiments are couched, but it is as well to bear in mind that the oratorical effort may mean very much--or very little. Uruguay, more especially its capital, is well-found in the matter of femininity. Indeed, ever since it became a full-blown city Montevideo has been celebrated for its pretty women. This fortunate state of affairs has now become a well-recognised fact, in which the masculine portion of the community takes an even greater pride than does the sex more directly involved. Should a patriotic Montevidean be engaged in conversation with an interested foreigner, the chances are that it will not be long ere the confident question is asked: "And our señoritas, what is your opinion of them?" In such a case there can be only one opinion--or expression of opinion. Conscience may be salved by the reflection that it is as difficult to find a woman without some stray claim to beauty as it is to light upon a dame of sixty without a grey hair. In both cases the feature may be hard to see. If so, it must be taken for granted. In the case of the Montevidean señorita no such feat of the imagination is necessary. To the far-famed graces of her sisters throughout South America she adds the freshness of complexion and the liveliness of temperament that are characteristic of the land. Indeed, to conceive these lighter virtues, added to the natural Spanish stateliness, is to picture a very bewitching feminine consummation. Much has been written concerning the señoritas of Uruguay, and yet not a line too much. Their own kith and kin have sung their praises with all the tremendous hyperbole of which the Spanish tongue is capable. White hands, bright eyes, raven hair, and a corresponding remainder of features that resemble all pleasant things from a dove to the moon--the collection of local prose and verse on the subject is justifiably enormous. The Montevidean lady has now, of course, become essentially modern. She rides in a motor-car, plays the piano instead of the guitar, and has exchanged the old order in general for the new. Yet the same vivacity, courage, and good looks remain--which is an excellent and beneficial thing for Montevideo and its inhabitants. Indeed, the beach of Poçitos or the sands of Ramirez shorn of their female adornment would be too terrible a disaster to contemplate even on the part of the most hardened Oriental. And at this point it is advisable to forsake for the present the more intimate affairs of the people, leaving the last word to the ladies, as, indeed, is only fitting--and frequently inevitable. The majority of South American Republics--or rather of those in the lower half of the continent--are keenly alive to the benefits of many of the European methods and institutions. Although each of these countries possesses a strong individuality of its own, the generality of these younger nations have almost invariably shown themselves eager to graft to their system foreign methods of organisation that have stood the test of time and that have not been found wanting. Indeed, in matters of practical progress the citizen of the more enlightened South American Republics is blessed with an unusually open mind. This condition has naturally borne fruit in experiments, and it is this very tendency to receptiveness that has frequently laid these States open to accusations of irresponsibility. Often enough the charge has proved entirely unjust, since it was based on nothing beyond a too fervent outbreak into an experimental region from which it was hoped to extract remedies and innovations that should tend to the betterment of the Republic. The direction of the public services affords striking instances of the kind. The navy, army, and police of the more progressive of the republics are usually modelled on European patterns. The navy is usually conducted on the English system, the army follows German methods, and the police copies as closely as possible the time-honoured principles of what is undoubtedly the finest force in the world, the English constabulary. Uruguay follows this procedure only in part. The kit of the troops here is of the French, rather than the German, pattern; and although the naval uniforms throughout the civilised world are all more or less alike, that of the Uruguayan does not resemble the British as closely as do some others, notably that of the Chilian. The costume of the Oriental police, however, helmet and all, is almost exactly the counterpart of the British, although it boasts the additional adornment of a sword and of spats. The work of the Uruguayan police, moreover, is to be commended for a lack of officiousness and fussy methods. They are little concerned with larceny, and with the similar forms of petty dishonesty, for the nation, as a whole, is endowed with a strict sense of the sacredness of property. The trait is to a large extent inherent in all the nations of the River Plate; but in this instance it may well be that it has become even more accentuated by the drastic methods of General Artigas at the beginning of the nineteenth century, whose abhorrence of theft and whose exemplary castigation of the crime may well have left an impression that has endured for almost a century. I have already referred to the sobriety of the Uruguayan. Perhaps for the reason that he is of a more openly jovial temperament he is slightly more addicted to looking upon his native wine when it is red than is the Argentine or Paraguayan. But the cases where this occurs are isolated enough. Indeed, in the matter of sobriety the Uruguayan can easily allow points to almost every European nation. The majority of crimes that occur to the east of the River Plate are neither those brought about by dishonesty nor drink. They are far more frequently the result of differences of opinion and of old-standing feuds that are avenged by the knife and revolver, for the Uruguayan, though courteous to a degree, is quick to resent offence, more especially when the umbrage given is brought about in the course of a political discussion. CHAPTER XI ABORIGINAL TRIBES The population of Uruguay prior to the Spanish conquest--Principal tribes--Paucity of information concerning the early aboriginal life--The Charrúas--Warlike characteristics of the race--Territory of the tribe--Stature and physique--Features--The occupations of war and hunting--Temperament mannerisms--A people on the nethermost rung of the social ladder--Absence of laws and penalties--Medicine-men--A crude remedy--The simplicity of the marriage ceremony--Morality at a low ebb--The prevalence of social equality--Method of settling private disputes--The Charrúas as warriors--Tactics employed in warfare--Some grim signals of victory--Treatment of the prisoners of war--Absence of a settled plan of campaign--Arms of the Charrúas--Primitive Indian weapons--Household implements--Burial rites--The mutilation of the living out of respect for the dead--Some savage ceremonies--Absence of religion--A lowly existence--Desolate dwellings--Change of customs effected by the introduction of horses--Indian appreciation of cattle--Improvement in the weapons of the tribe--Formidable cavalry--The end of the Charrúas--Other Uruguayan tribes--The Yaros--Bohanes--Chanas--Guenoas--Minuanes--Arachanes. At the time of the Spanish Conquest the territory which now constitutes the Republic of Uruguay was peopled by about four thousand Indians. These, however, did not form a single nation, but were divided off into a number of tribes. The most important of these were the Charrúas, Yaros, Bohanes, Chanas, and Guenoas. Each of these groups possessed its own territory, and each was wont to exist in a state of continued hostility with its neighbours. Nothing is known of the history of these folk previous to the arrival of the Spaniard, and even during the earlier periods of the conquest information is scanty enough, since contact between native and European was confined almost entirely to warlike occasions, and since, even when opportunity offered, the early colonists were neither sufficiently adapted nor especially educated for the purpose. The Charrúas constituted the leading tribe of these aboriginal people. They owed this ascendancy to their warlike spirit, and to their comparatively large numbers. It was they who murdered Juan Diaz de Solis, the discoverer of the Rio de la Plata, together with many of his companions, and it was they, moreover, who offered the most strenuous resistance to the colonising attempts of the Spaniards. The Charrúas, to the number of a couple of thousand, inhabited the coast of the River Plate, and carried on a semi-nomadic existence between Maldonado and the mouth of the River Uruguay, occupying a region that extended inland for about ninety miles, its inner frontiers running parallel with the coast-line. The stature of these natives attained to middle height; they were robust, well built, and usually free from that tendency to obesity which is the characteristic of the Guarani Indians. As a race they were distinguished by rather large heads, wide mouths, and flat noses. Their skin was unusually dark, and in colour approached the complexion of the negro more nearly than that of any other South American race. Peculiarly adapted to resist hunger and fatigue, they were agile and swift of foot as became those who existed principally on the deer and ostriches that they hunted. It is said that their health was such that many attained to a very advanced age. The character of these Indiana was essentially warlike and turbulent, and they were remarkable for their passion for revenge and deceit. Of a taciturn and apathetic temperament, they refused to submit to discipline of any kind. They were, moreover, peculiarly averse to outward display of any emotion. A laugh, for instance, would be noiseless, signalled merely by a half-opening of the lips; conversation was carried on in a low and unmodulated tone of voice, and a true Charrúa would run a considerable distance to gain a comrade's side rather than be under the necessity of shouting openly to him. The sole occasions on which the exercise of patience would seem to have come naturally to the race were those of hunting and of scouting. A child of nature, with the faculties of hearing and sight marvellously developed, the Charrúa became reticent and morose when brought into contact with civilisation. [Illustration: ANCIENT STONES EMPLOYED FOR NUT-CRUSHING. To face p. 140.] In social ethics these dwellers on the coast ranked low; indeed, their place was amongst the lowest in the scale of tribes. Division either of labour or of the spoils of war was unknown. Each hunted and fought for his own hand alone, while the wife constructed a few rude utensils and performed the duties of a slave. Their system knew neither laws, punishments, nor rewards, and the only services that were wont to be recompensed in any way were those of the medicine-men, whose natural cunning was doubtless as superior to that of the rest as is the case elsewhere. Nevertheless, these leeches seem to have been acquainted with only one remedy. This was to suck with might and main at that portion of the body beneath the surface of which an inward pain was complained of. The marriage ceremony was confined to the obtaining of the consent of the bride's parents. The state of wedlock, however, was considered of some importance in the man, as it conferred on him the right to go to war, and to take part in the councils of the tribe. Morality, as understood by the more advanced sections of humanity, was at a low ebb. Wedlock was permitted an unnaturally liberal range and licence. Not only was polygamy general, but marriages between brothers and sisters were permitted, although it is related that their occurrence was rather rare. Cases of monogamy, however, were not unknown, and, whenever the opportunity offered, a wife would desert a multi-spoused husband in order to take up her abode with a man who was willing to accept her as his only wife. Conjugal faithlessness was held to be an excusable failing; indeed, on the arrival of the Spaniards, the men would frequently offer their wives to the Europeans in return for some material advantage. Some evidence of that social equality that is so strongly a characteristic of the tribes of the River Plate is to be met with among the Charrúas. Such chiefs as existed were almost altogether lacking in real power or authority. A leader, as a matter of fact, was elected by the people merely in order to act in cases of emergency, and his chieftainship, held on sufferance, was liable to be taken from him on the coming to the front of a man held more suitable for the post. It is a little curious to find that in so fierce a race private quarrels were not adjusted by means of the crude arms of war that they possessed. These disputes were fought out with the fists, and after a satisfactory exchange of blows the matter was ended for good and all. Notwithstanding this sensible method of settling their individual differences, the Charrúas were merciless in the wars waged against neighbouring tribes or Spaniards. On the first outbreak of hostilities they were wont to hide their women and children in the woods, after which spies were immediately sent out to locate the position of the enemy. This determined, it was usual to hold a council of war in the evening, and to make a surprise attack at the first glimmerings of dawn. The method of their onslaught was one calculated to terrify. Dashing out of the semi-obscurity, they would make a furious charge, uttering loud cries, the fierceness of which was supposed to be accentuated by means of the warriors striking themselves continually on the mouth. Women and young children captured in their attacks were taken back as prisoners to the rude encampments of the conquerors, where they afterwards received complete liberty, and became incorporated with the tribe. No quarter, however, was shown to the men of the beaten force. It is said by some of the early European adventurers who came into contact with this fierce race that they were not only wont to scalp their fallen enemies, but that each was accustomed to cut an incision in his own body for every dead foeman whose body lay to the credit of his prowess or cunning. Some doubt, nevertheless, is thrown upon the existence of these habits, although they are affirmed by three rather notable authorities, Barco, Lozano, and Azara. Fortunately for the Spaniards, who discovered in the Charrúas by far the most dreaded enemies that it was their lot to encounter in this part of South America, these Indians were easily turned from a settled purpose or plan of campaign. Thus they would lose many opportunities of pushing home success, halting in an advance in order to celebrate a first victory, and remaining on the ground for the purpose of marking the occasion at length. The fact that these rude savages should have obtained victories over the Spaniards by means of the crude arms that were known to them speaks wonders for their bravery. Their choice of warlike implements was no whit greater than that enjoyed by the lake-dwellers of the Stone Age. Arrows, spears, clubs, and maces--all these were made up of stone heads and wooden shafts. That which might be termed the characteristic native weapon was the _bolas_, the pair of stone balls attached to ostrich sinews or to some other contrivance of the kind. These--as remains the case to the present day in other lands--were employed as slings, and, for the purpose of entangling an enemy, were the most dreaded implements of all. For the purposes of peace as well as for those of war the sole materials available to the Charrúa for the fashioning of implements were stone, wood, bone, and clay. Thus the household equipment was wont to be confined to the most primitive types of knives, saws, punches, hammers, axes, mortars, pestles, and roughly baked pottery. It is certain that they used canoes, since they used to cross over to the islands facing Maldonado, but nothing is known concerning the particular build of these humble craft. Waged under such circumstances existence knew little glamour. Yet even here certain ceremonial institutions obtained. The women, for example, on attaining to adult age were accustomed to tattoo three stripes upon their faces as a signal of the fact, while the men wore a certain kind of headgear to bear a similar significance. On the death of a male, the warrior was buried with his arms, usually on the summit of a small hill. Later, when the luxury of domestic animals became known, the rites grew more elaborate, and the dead man's horse was usually sacrificed on the grave. In any case the occasion of a man's death was marked by self-mutilation on the part of his wives and female relatives. These would commence by cutting their fingers, weeping bitterly all the while, and afterwards would take the spear of their deceased relative, and with it would prick themselves in various parts of the body and more especially in the arms, which were frequently pierced through and through. Azara was privileged to witness a number of these painful ceremonies, which must have been carried out with conscientious zeal, since he remarks that of all the adult women that he saw none was without mutilated fingers and numerous scars on the body. These methods of accentuating sorrow, however, were light when compared with the tortures that adult sons were wont to inflict upon themselves on the loss of their father. It was their duty first of all to hide themselves, fasting, in their huts for two days. This effected, it was customary to point a number of sticks and to transfix the arms with these from the wrist to the shoulder, with an interval of not more than an inch between each. In this porcupine-like condition they proceeded either to a wood or to a hill, bearing in their hands sharpened stakes. By means of these each would dig out a hole in the earth sufficiently deep to cover him to the height of the breast, and in this custom demanded him to remain during a whole night. On the next day the mourners rose up from their uncomfortable holes, and met together in a special hut that was set apart for the ceremonial purposes. Here they pulled the sticks from their arms, and remained for a fortnight, partaking of only the scantiest nourishment. After which they were at liberty to rejoin their comrades, and to resume the comparatively even tenor of their normal existence. The Charrúas afford one of the rare instances of a race who knew no religion. They neither worshipped a benevolent divinity nor endeavoured to propitiate a malignant spirit. They were, nevertheless, superstitious up to a certain point, and dreaded to leave their huts during the night. There is no doubt that some vague belief in an after-existence must have been implanted in their lowly minds. Although they do not seem ever to have referred openly to the belief, the sole fact of the burial of the dead man's arms in the same grave as the corpse is sufficient proof of their supposition that the weapons would be needed in some half-imagined and dim place beyond. But neither priest nor magician was in their midst to stimulate their wonderings on the point. The highest degree of science or intellect, as a matter of fact, was represented by the medicine-men with their simple and mistakenly practical remedy. The race had no acquaintance with either music, games, dancing, or with ordinary conversation as understood amongst more civilised beings. In matters of personal adornment the Charrúas were equally unsophisticated. A few ostrich feathers in the hair constituted the beginning and the end of the men's costume; the sole garment of the women was a loin-cloth. Of too dull a temperament to discover even the simplest pleasures that the majority of races contrive to extract from their existence, the sole luxury in which these folk indulged was the bathing in the streams of the country. But this recreation was limited to the midsummer months: during all the other periods of the year they refrained entirely from ablutions. The point as to whether these benighted Indians were cannibals has never been definitely cleared up. The charge of eating human flesh has been brought against the tribe by a certain number of authorities. It is stated, for instance, that the body of Juan Diaz de Solis, the discoverer of the River Plate and one of the first victims of these warriors, was consumed by the attacking party after his murder. But the evidence is not clear in either this case or in any other of the kind, although it is likely enough that they partook of the taste that was shared by various tribes who inhabited the country to the north. Their ordinary food, in any case, was the flesh of the deer and ostrich, as well as fish. Their meals were frequently demolished in a raw condition, doubtless of necessity, although they understood the means of producing fire by the friction of wood. Vegetable food was unknown to them, but they contrived to produce an intoxicating liquor from the fermentation of wasps' honey mixed with water. A glance at the more intimate domestic life of these wild possessors of so many strictly negative attributes may well complete a rather desolate picture. The home of the Charrúa was on a par with the remainder of his few belongings. A few branches, stuck into the earth and bent towards a common centre, constituted the foundation; one or two deer-skins placed on top of these formed the superstructure. These dwellings, as a matter of fact, were no more crude than those of the Patagonian natives, and little more so than the huts of the Chaco Indians to the north-west, although the structures of both these latter were--and still remain--thatched with grasses and vegetation in the place of skins. In the case of the Charrúa the inner accommodation was limited to a few square feet; but the confined space sufficed to hold an ordinary member, although if the human units increased unduly, a second hut was erected by the side of the first. For furniture, there were the few crude household implements already mentioned, the weapons of the men, and the deer-skin or two spread upon the ground to serve as couches. It was in this manner that the Charrúas were accustomed to live when the Spaniards, much to the rage of the original inhabitants, landed upon their shores. From that time onwards their method of existence underwent a change. With the introduction of horses they adopted the habit of riding, and soon became extraordinarily proficient in all equestrian arts, although their natural fleetness of foot suffered inevitably during the process. The cattle that now roamed the Campo in great numbers afforded them ample and easily obtained meals. Indeed, although they may have had some legitimate cause for grievance, the material benefits that the influx from Europe accorded the Indians were enormous. Yet the hatred with which these fierce warriors of the Campo regarded the white intruders tended with time to increase rather than diminish. As a foe the Indian was far more formidable now than at the time of the first encounters. Behold him on horseback, careering like the wind across the pastures, armed with a deadly iron-tipped lance some fourteen feet in length! For he had obtained the means now to fight the _conquistadores_ with their own weapons, and even his arrows were pointed with metal, although he still retained the homely stone in the case of his ever efficient _bolas_. Thus he remained, immutably fierce, alternately winning and losing the endless fights, but never conquered nor enslaved for three centuries. At the end of that period, in 1832, came the end of his race, and the small remnant was practically annihilated. The fate of the last four of the Charrúas is pathetically humorous, as illustrating what unsuspected ends a wild community may be made to serve. Two men and two women, the sole survivors of the unconquered warrior tribe, were sent across the ocean to Paris, where they were placed on exhibition, and doubtless proved a profitable investment. Having concluded with the Charrúas, the remaining aboriginal tribes of Uruguay demand very little space by comparison. There were, nevertheless, half a dozen minor groups that inhabited the other portion of the land that is now Uruguay. The Yaros Indians occupied a small district on the south-western coast of the country, and were a warlike race whose customs and manner of existence much resembled those of the Charrúas. With this latter race they were on terms of hostility, and only allied themselves with their aboriginal neighbours for the occasional purpose of a joint attack upon the Spaniards. At the beginning of the eighteenth century they were to all intents and purposes exterminated by the more powerful Charrúas, the few survivors joining the ranks of their conquerors. Little is known of the Bohanes, who occupied the coastal territory to the north of the Yaros. They were likewise enemies of the Charrúas, and in the end suffered partial extermination at the hands of the latter tribe. It is said that a certain number escaped into Paraguay and became absorbed amongst the Guarani inhabitants of the north. It appears certain that, although this insignificant group could not number much more than a hundred families, their language differed entirely from the tongues of the neighbouring tribes. [Illustration: NATIVE "BOLEADORAS." To face p. 148.] The Chanas were island-dwellers whose character contrasted rather remarkably with that of the inhabitants of the mainland. When first met with they were occupying the islands in the River Uruguay to the north of the point where the Rio Negro joins the principal stream. A race of peaceable and rather timid folk, they suffered not a little at the hands of the more warlike tribes. Thus, when the Spaniards occupied their native islands, the Yaros endeavoured to obtain a footing on the western coast-line; but, driven from here by the Charrúas, they found shelter in a collection of islets to the south of those that had formed their first abode. They were more or less expert fishers and watermen, and possessed a language of their own. Many of their customs were akin to those of the Guarani Indians. Thus when the bodies of their dead had been buried for a sufficiently long time to lose all flesh, the skeletons would be dug up, painted with grease and ochre, and then entered once again in company with their ancestors. In the case of a dead child it was their custom to place the body in a large earthenware urn which they filled with earth and ochre, covering up the vessel with burnt clay. The Chanas lent themselves readily to civilisation. Towards the middle of the seventeenth century they became converted to Christianity, and in the beginning the Jesuit mission station of Soriano was peopled almost entirely by members of this tribe. Of an intelligence and temperament infinitely superior to that of the remaining tribes, they mingled freely with the Spaniards after a while, and adopted European manners and customs. The race disappeared eventually merely from the force of absorption by marriage with their civilised neighbours. The Guenoas existed in the north-western portion of the country, leading a semi-nomadic life. They were to be distinguished from the Indians who dwelt to the south of their territory in that they were amenable to discipline in their natural state. At their head were recognised chiefs, or caciques, who appear to have exercised no little authority. They were endowed, moreover, with a certain amount of superstitious belief, and witch-doctors were to be found among them. They had also learned the art of signalling from a distance by means of bonfires. Although a warlike race, they were far more susceptible than the Charrúas to outside influence. A portion of the tribe eventually found refuge in the Jesuit missions, and the majority of the males took service in the Spanish and Portuguese armies. The Minuanes occupied a territory to the east of the Guenoas, and in physical appearance, manners, and customs closely resembled the Charrúas, to such an extent, indeed, that the two tribes have frequently been confused by writers. An error of the kind is natural enough, since the two groups were wont to bind themselves in hard-and-fast alliance in order to combat the Spaniards. The Minuanes, however, were a trifle more advanced in some respects than their southern allies. They were accustomed, for instance, to wear loin-cloths, with the frequent addition of a skin flung across the shoulders. Moreover, their hostility towards Europeans was undoubtedly less deep-seated, since the Jesuits succeeded in incorporating them for a while in one of their missions. The majority, it is true, soon returned to their own wild life, but a certain number remained. The last tribe to be noticed is that of the Arachanes, a people of Guarani origin who lived on the east coast between the ocean and the great Lake Merim. Practically nothing is known of these folk. They were dispersed and exterminated at the commencement of the seventeenth century by the Brazilian mamelukes in the course of their raids from San Paulo. CHAPTER XII MONTEVIDEO Population--Attributes of the city--Situation of the Uruguayan capital--The Cerro--A comparison between the capitals of Argentina and Uruguay--The atmosphere of Montevideo--A city of restful activity--Comparatively recent foundation--Its origin an afterthought--Montevideo in 1727--Homely erections--Progress of the town--Advance effected within the last thirty years--The Uruguayan capital at the beginning of the nineteenth century--Some chronicles of the period--The ubiquity of meat--Dogs and their food--Some curious account of the prevalence of rats--The streets of old Montevideo--Their perils and humours--A comparison between the butchers' bills of the past and of the present--Some unusual uses for sheep--Methods in which the skulls and horns of cattle were employed--Modern Montevideo--The National Museum--An admirable institution--Theatres--Critical Montevidean audiences--Afternoon tea establishments--The Club Uruguay--The English Club--British community in the capital--Its enterprise and philanthropy--The _Montevideo Times_--A feat in editorship--Hotels--Cabs and public vehicles--The cost of driving. It may come as a surprise to many to learn that Montevideo, the capital of Uruguay, possesses a population of almost four hundred thousand inhabitants. By no means one of those centres that are remarkable only for population, it holds almost every conceivable attribute of a modern city--from boulevards and imposing public buildings to plazas, statuary, and a remarkably extensive tramway service. Montevideo is situated at a peculiarly advantageous point on the Uruguayan shore. No student of geography, it is true, could point out the exact limits of so immense a stream as the La Plata. Yet for all practical purposes the capital of the Republic sits just beside this very phenomenon. Thus it may be said that the eastern side of the town faces the ocean, while the southern looks upon the River Plate. To enter more fully into the geographical details of the spot, the chief commercial and governmental districts cover a peninsula that juts well out into the waters, thus forming the eastern extremity of the semicircular bay of the actual port. Upon the ocean side of the peninsula the shore recedes abruptly northwards for a short space, and it is here that lie the pleasant inlets that are not a little famed as pleasure resorts. At the riverward extremity of the port bay is a landmark that is indelibly associated with Montevideo, whether viewed from sea or land. The famous Cerro is a conical hill, surmounted by a fort that dominates all the surrounding landscape. But of the Cerro, since for various reasons it is a place of importance, more later. The capital itself claims the right to prior notice, and to the rendering of a few introductory facts. Since the distance between the chief town of either republic only just exceeds a hundred miles, a comparison between Montevideo and Buenos Aires is almost inevitable. Indeed, it has become something of a hobby on the part of the Oriental who has visited the Argentine city, and vice versâ. Fortunately, the comparison can be made without the engendering of bad blood, since to a great extent that which the one town lacks is possessed by the other. Thus, in the first place Montevideo, although astonishingly thriving, is without the hastening crowds and feverish hustle of the city across the waters. Again, although its sheltered bay is yearly accommodating more and larger vessels, the Oriental town is innocent of those many miles of docks teeming throughout with steamers. Yet, on the other hand, it possesses its rocks and shining sands of pleasure that draw the Argentines themselves in shoals across the river. Indeed, the atmosphere of Montevideo is restful, and at the same time free from the slightest taint of stagnation. Even the more modest thoroughfares are comparatively broad, while the many new avenues are spacious and well planned to a degree. Perhaps the keynote to the town in these respects may be found in the fact that, although the absolute dominion of the priests has long been a thing of the past, the sound of the cathedral and church bells is audible above the hum of the traffic. Even in the ears of the most ardent Protestant the effect is not without its soothing and tranquillising properties. It is true that there have been some who, deceived by its peaceful appearance, have altogether underrated the actual activity of the city. As a matter of fact, the progress of Montevideo deserves far wider recognition than it has obtained. The town represents something of a babe even amongst the roll of comparatively youthful South American cities. Its foundation, in 1726, indeed, was due to an afterthought, following an expulsion of Portuguese who had landed at the solitary spot and fortified it in the course of one of their later expeditions. Thus Colonia had long afforded a bone of contention between the two nations, and even Maldonado had provided several battlefields ere the present capital was colonised or thought of. In 1727 the panorama of Montevideo could not well have been an imposing one. At that time the place possessed no more than two buildings of stone, although it could count forty others of hide. But the erections of this homely and odorous material that in the colonial days were made to serve almost every conceivable purpose could have added very little to the æsthetic properties of the budding settlement. Once established, however, the city grew apace, and in due course the natural advantages of its position raised its status to that of the premier urban centre of the land. But, although Montevideo flourished and increased for rather more than a century and a half, its leap into complete modernism has only been effected within the last thirty years. In this respect it has only followed the example of the important cities of the neighbouring republics. Thus, in 1807, when its ninetieth birthday was marked by the British occupation, the accounts of numerous foreign visitors to the place testify to its primitive state, although all agree that in the main the capital was a pleasant spot. That the streets of the period were badly paved it is not surprising to hear, since, owing to many obstacles, the art of accurate paving is one of the very last that has filtered through to South America in general. On the other hand, it is admitted that the thoroughfares were well lit. Amongst the more disagreeable peculiarities were some for which the butcher's trade was responsible. In a country of oxen the superabundance of meat was made only too evident. "Oftentimes," says an English chronicler of the period, "when a particular piece of meat is wanted, the animal is killed, and after cutting out the desired part, without taking off the skin, the remainder of the carcass is thrown to the dogs, or left to rot in the streets." After this the author proceeds to make a startling statement: "Almost every animal is fed on beef: from this circumstance pork and poultry bought casually in the market, and which has not been purposely fattened, are tinctured with a very ancient and beef-like taste." The first part of this piece of information is undoubtedly accurate; but to what extent the latter is the result of imagination or of fact it is perhaps best not to investigate too closely. According to this theory, some of the plainest of joints must have contained in themselves the elements of several courses, with a species of menagerie meal as a consequence! In any case, it is well known that the effect of this abundant meat diet upon the prowling dogs of the town was to render them savage and dangerous to the casual passer-by, who frequently had to defend himself as best he might from their attacks. The extraordinary prevalence of rats from similar causes is confirmed by other authors, Uruguayan as well as English. The brothers Robertson, who are responsible for such an excellent description of Paraguay at that period, have some curious experiences to relate concerning this visitation. Both received much hospitality at the hands of their Uruguayan friends. "The only drawback," writes one of them, "upon the delightful way in which I now spent my evenings was the necessity of returning home through long, narrow streets so infested with voracious rats as to make it perilous sometimes to face them. There was no police in the town, excepted that provided by the showers of rain, which, at intervals, carried off the heaps of filth from the streets. Around the offal of carrion, vegetables, and stale fruit which in large masses accumulated there, the rats absolutely mustered in legions. If I attempted to pass near these formidable banditti, or to interrupt their meals and orgies, they gnashed their teeth upon me like so many evening [ravening?] wolves ... sometimes I fought my way straight home with my stick; at others I was forced to fly down some cross and narrow path or street, leaving the rats undisturbed masters of the field." No doubt had a militant vegetarian of the period found his way to Montevideo he might have pointed out many object-lessons in favour of a lesser carnal devotion. On the other hand, it is lamentable that the cheap value at which carcasses were then held has not continued to prevail to this day. To the small population of a hundred years ago meat seemed to grow as easily as grass-blades, and the uses to which it was wont to be put seem astonishing enough in an era of butchers' bills and shilling steaks. Since until comparatively recent years in the River Plate Provinces mutton has been held unworthy of even a beggar's acceptance, the carcasses of the sheep suffered the most ignominious end of all. Amongst the other means they were made to serve, the animals were driven to the brick-kilns, slaughtered upon the spot, and their bodies flung into the ovens to feed the fires. As for the cattle, their skulls and horns were everywhere. Prepared by the foregoing for revelations of general utility, it is not surprising to read that houses as well as fence-lines were frequently constructed from such tragic material. Such reminiscences of the past, however, have drawn the trail too far aside from the modern city of Montevideo, where dogs are subject to police regulations, and the rat is scarce, and meat as dear as elsewhere. As for the town itself, it has sprung up afresh, and renewed itself yet once again since the colonial days. Indeed, the sole buildings of importance that remain from the time of the Spanish dominion are the cathedral and Government palace. [Illustration: SOLIS THEATRE AND NATIONAL MUSEUM.] [Illustration: THE CERRO FORT. To face p. 156.] The national museum at Montevideo is both well represented and amply stocked. It is a place into which the average foreigner enters with sufficient rarity, which is rather lamentable, since a very varied local education is to be derived from its contents. Uruguayan art, natural history, geology, literature, and historical objects all find a place here. The collection of primitive Indian utensils, and of _bolas_, the round stones of the slings, is unique. It is said that in the case of the latter, which have been brought together from all districts, almost every species of stone that exists in the country is to be met. The historical objects here, moreover, are of great interest to one who has followed the fluctuating fortunes of the country. The early uniforms and weapons of the Spaniards, the costumes and long lances of the first struggling national forces, and a host of other exhibits of the kind are assisted by a considerable collection of contemporary local pictures and drawings. Many of the earlier specimens of these are exceedingly crude, but none the less valuable for that, since the battle scenes are depicted with much the same rough vigour that doubtless characterised their actual raging. In the gallery devoted to Uruguayan painters there is at least one picture that is remarkable for its power and realism, the work of a famous modern artist, representing a scene in the great plague visitation that the capital suffered. It is a little curious that in the rooms where hang the specimens of European art the biblical paintings of some of the old Italian masters should be hung side by side with modern productions of the lightest and most Gallic tendency; but it is quite possible that this may have been done with intention in support of the propaganda against the influence of Church and religion that has now become so marked throughout South America. In any case, the custom is one that does not obtain in Montevideo alone. The taxidermic portion of the museum is exceedingly well contrived, and the entire institution, with its competent staff, under the direction of Professor José Arechavaleta, is worthy of all praise. With social institutions of all kinds Montevideo is amply provided. The theatres are well constructed, well patronised, and frequently visited by some of the most efficient companies in existence. It is true that, owing to the difference in the size of the two towns, Montevideo usually obtains the tail-end of a visit the most part of which has been spent in Buenos Aires. But such matters of precedence do not in the least affect the merits of the various performances. Both actors and musicians here, moreover, have to deal with an audience that is at least as critical as any that its larger neighbour can provide. One of the evidences of Montevideo's modernity is to be found in its afternoon-tea establishments. Unfortunately, the name of the principal one of these places has escaped me, so that it must receive its meed of praise in an anonymous fashion. It is certainly one of the daintiest specimens of its kind that can be conceived both as regards decoration and the objects of light sustenance that justify its existence. As a teashop it is a jewel with an appropriate pendant--a tiny coal-black negro boy official at the door, whose gorgeous full-dress porter's uniform renders him a much-admired toy of humanity. The chief and most imposing of the capital's clubs is the Club Uruguay that looks out upon the Plaza Matriz, the main square. The premises here are spacious and imposing, and the club is quite of the first order. The membership is confined almost entirely to the Uruguayans of the better classes, although it includes a small number of resident foreigners. The English Club is situated on the opposite side of the same square, and is an extremely cosy and well-managed institution that sustains to the full all the traditions of the English clubs abroad. The English community in the capital is fairly numerous, and is in closer touch with its Uruguayan neighbours than is the case with the majority of such bodies in other South American countries. The enterprise and philanthropy of the colony are evident in many directions. It has long possessed a school and a hospital of its own; but subscriptions have now been raised for the erection of a larger and more modern hospital building, to be situated in pleasant surroundings on the outskirts of the town. A great part of the credit for this, as for many other similar undertakings, is undoubtedly due to Mr. R.J. Kennedy, the British Minister. The English Colony is represented journalistically by a daily paper, the _Montevideo Times_, a sheet of comparatively modest dimensions that is very ably edited and conducted. Indeed, the record of Mr. W.H. Denstone, the editor, must be almost unique in the history of journalism all the world over. For a period that, I believe, exceeds twenty years the production, in journalese language, has been "put to bed" beneath his personal supervision, and not a number has appeared the matter of which has not come directly from his hands. As a testimony, not only to industry but to a climate that permits such an unbroken spell of labour, surely the feat is one to be cordially acclaimed in Fleet Street! The Montevideo hotels, although there is much to be said in their favour, are comparatively modest in size, and somewhat lacking in those most modern attributes that characterise many in other large towns of South America, and even those in the pleasure resorts on the outskirts of the Uruguayan capital itself. The best known is the Lanata, situated in the Plaza Matriz. But I cannot recommend the Lanata with any genuine degree of enthusiasm. The Palacio Florida, a new hotel in the Calle Florida, is, I think, the most confidently to be recommended of any in the capital. The tariff here is strictly moderate, the service good, and the place is blessed with the distinct advantage of a very pleasant lounge on each floor. In many respects Montevideo, although its scale of expenses is rising rapidly, still remains a place of cheaper existence than Buenos Aires. But not in the matter of its cabs and public vehicles. The hooded victoria of the Argentine capital is frequently replaced here by the landau, and on a provocation that may not have exceeded half a mile the piratical driver will endeavour to extract a dollar--the equivalent of four shillings and twopence--from his victimised passenger. The reason for this ambitious scale of charges no doubt lies in the fact that the Montevidean is very little addicted to driving in cabs, of which vehicles, indeed, the very excellent tramway service of the city renders him more or less independent. Thus, as the solvent person is said to bear the burden of the tailor's bad debts, the economies of those who ride in Montevidean tramcars are visited upon the pockets of those others who patronise the cabs. CHAPTER XIII Montevideo--_continued_ The surroundings of the capital--Pleasant resorts--The Prado--A well-endowed park--Colón--Aspects of the suburbs--Some charming quintas--A wealth of flowers and vegetation--European and tropical blossoms side by side--Orchards and their fruits--The cottages of the peasants--An itinerant merchant--School-children--Methods of education in Uruguay--The choice of a career--Equestrian pupils--The tramway route--Aspect of the village of Colón--Imposing eucalyptus avenues--A country of blue gum--Some characteristics of the place--Flowers and trees--Country houses--The Tea Garden Restaurant--Meals amidst pleasant surrounding--An enterprising establishment--Lunch and its reward--Poçitos and Ramirez--Bathing-places of the Atlantic--Blue waters compared with yellow--Sand and rock--Villa del Cerro--The steam ferry across the bay--A town of mixed buildings--Dwelling-places and their materials--The ubiquitous football--Aspects of the Cerro--Turf and rock--A picturesque fort--Panorama from the summit of the hill--The guardian of the river mouth--The last and the first of the mountains. The Uruguayan's appreciation of pleasant Nature is made abundantly clear in the surroundings of the capital. The city, as a matter of fact, is set about with quite an exceptional number of pleasant resorts both inland and upon the shore. Of the former the Prado park and the pleasure suburb of Colón are the best known. The Prado is reached within half an hour from the centre of the city by means of tramway-car. Situated on the outskirts of the town, the park is very large and genuinely beautiful. Groves of trees shading grassy slopes, beds of flowers glowing by the sides of ponds and small lakes, walks, drives, and sheltered seats--the place possesses all these commendable attributes, and many beyond. The Montevidean is very proud of the Prado, and he has sufficient reason for his pride. He has taken a portion of the rolling country, and has made of the mounds and hills the fairest garden imaginable. The place would be remarkable if for nothing more than the great variety and number of its trees, both Northern and subtropical. But here this fine collection forms merely the background for the less lofty palms, bamboos, and all the host of the quainter growths, to say nothing of the flowering shrubs and the land and water blossoms. One may roam for miles in and out of the Prado vegetation, only to find that it continues to present fresh aspects and beauties all the while. The expedition to Colón is a slightly more serious one, since, the spot being situated some eight miles from the centre of the town, the journey by tramcar occupies an hour or so. As much that is typical of the outskirts of Montevideo is revealed by the excursion, it may be as well to describe it with some detail. [Illustration: THE BEACH AT PARQUE URBANO.] [Illustration: THE SAN JOSE ROAD BRIDGE. To face p. 162.] It is only when once fairly launched upon a journey of the kind that the true extent of Montevideo and the length of its plane-shaded avenues proper become evident. Nevertheless, as the car mounts and dips with the undulation of the land, the unbroken streets of houses come to an end at length, giving way to the first _quintas_--the villas set within their own grounds. The aspect of these alone would suffice to convince the passing stranger of the real wealth of the capital. Of all styles of architecture, from that of the bungalow to the more intricate structure of many pinnacles and eaves, many of them are extremely imposing in size and luxurious to a degree. A moral to the new-comer in Montevideo should certainly be: Own a quinta in the suburbs; or, if you cannot, get to know the owner of a quinta in the suburbs, and stay with him! But if you would see these surroundings of Montevideo at their very best, it is necessary to journey there in October--the October of the Southern hemisphere, when the sap of the plants is rising to counterbalance its fall in the North. The quintas then are positive haunts of delight--nothing less. Their frontiers are frequently marked by blossoming may, honeysuckle, and rose-hedges, while bougainvillæa, wistaria, and countless other creepers blaze from the walls of the houses themselves. As for the gardens, they have overflowed into an ordered riot of flower. The most favoured nooks of Madeira, the _Midi_ of France, and Portugal would find it hard to hold their own in the matter of blossoms with this far Southern land. Undoubtedly, one of the most fascinating features here is the mingling of the hardy and homely plants with the exotic. Thus great banks of sweet-scented stock will spread themselves beneath the broad-leaved palms, while the bamboo spears will prick up lightly by the ivy-covered trunk of a Northern tree--a tree whose parasite is to be marked and cherished, for ivy is, in general, as rare in South America as holly, to say nothing of plum-pudding, though it is abundant here. Spreading bushes of lilac mingle their scent with the magnolia, orange, myrtle, and mimosa, until the crowded air seems almost to throb beneath the simultaneous weight of the odours. Then down upon the ground, again, are periwinkles, pansies, and marigolds, rubbing petals with arum-lilies, carnations, hedges of pink geranium, clumps of tree-marguerites, and wide borders of cineraria. From time to time the suggestions of the North are strangely compelling. Thus, when the heavy flower-cones of the horse-chestnut stand out boldly next to the snow-white circles of the elder-tree, with a grove of oaks as a background, it is with something akin to a shock that the succeeding clumps of paraiso and eucalyptus-trees, and the fleshy leaves of the aloe and prickly-pear bring the traveller back to reality and the land of warm sunshine. But it is time to make an end to this long list of mere growths and blossoms. The others must be left to the imagination, from the green fig-bulbs to the peach-blossom and guelder-roses. Let it suffice to say that a number of these gardens are many acres in extent, and that you may distribute all these flowers--and the far larger number that remain unchronicled--in any order that you will. As the open country appears in the wider gaps left between the remoter quintas, and the space between the halting-places of the tram is correspondingly lengthened, the speed of a car becomes accelerated to a marked degree. The cottages that now appear at intervals at the side of the road are trim and spotlessly white. They are, almost without exception, shaded by the native ombú-tree, and are surrounded with trelliswork of vines and with fig-trees, while near by are fields of broad beans and the extensive vineyards of commerce. Along the road a rider is proceeding leisurely, a large wooden pannier jutting out from either side of his saddle. This bulky gear, that lends such a swollen appearance to the advancing combination of man and horse, denotes a travelling merchant of humble status. What he carries within the pair of boxes there is no outward evidence to tell. Their contents may be anything from vegetables or chickens to scissors, knives, or sweetstuffs. Since, however, he has now drawn rein by the side of one of the white cottages, his wares almost certainly do not comprise the first two, for the market for such lies within Montevideo proper. By the time, however, that the lids of the panniers have been raised and the bargaining has commenced the car has sped far onwards, and has dropped him from sight. Thus the business of the travelling merchant--like that of the majority of passers-by--remains but half understood. But here, at all events, comes a group of riders of another kind, whose purpose is clear. Half a dozen small boys and bareheaded girls, mounted upon disproportionately tall ponies, are jogging along on their way to school. Uruguay prides itself, with no little reason, upon the efficiency of its system of education, and the humblest hut now sends forth its human mites to absorb the three R's and to be instilled with patriotically optimistic versions of their country's past. These rudiments mastered, they need not necessarily halt in their scholastic career, since, according to the laws of the land, a professorship is open eventually to the most lowly student who persists for sufficient time. And Uruguay is undoubtedly a nest of opportunities. An embryo statesman or learned doctor may be represented by each of the urchins who are now plodding onwards with serious intent through the dust! In the meanwhile the car has won its way fairly out into the open country, always green, smiling, and thickly shot with the pink of peach-blossoms. The rails have now drawn well away from the centre of the road, and are separated from the actual highway by a grassy space. Stirred by the importance of possessing a track all to itself, the car is undoubtedly aspiring to the rank of a railway train, and goes rushing at a really formidable pace upon its verdure-embedded lines. Swaying over the shoulders of the land, past plantations, lanes, and hedges, it plunges onwards in grim earnest to the terminus of the line at Colón itself. The actual village of Colón gives little indication of the nature of the district. The railway-station, shops, and houses are all pleasantly situated, it is true, and the restaurants and pleasure-gardens are unusually numerous. The attractions of the place, however, lie well outside the central nucleus of buildings. From this some remarkably imposing eucalyptus avenues lead outwards into the favourite haunts of the Montevidean when on pleasure bent. Undoubtedly the most salient feature of Colón is the eucalyptus. Indeed, the place primarily consists of mile upon mile of these stately avenues, fringed by blue gums of an immense size. Bordering these magnificent highways, that cross each other at right angles, are country houses here and there that are reproductions of those in the suburbs of Montevideo. In between the avenues, again, are clumps and small forests of eucalyptus, whose tops soar high up in tremendously lofty waves, that enclose vineyards, peach-orchards, and olive-tree plantations. Here and there are lanes walled in by mounting hedges of honeysuckle and rose, while many of the private grounds are guarded by the impassable lines of aloe. Add to this basis all the other trees, shrubs, and flowers that have already been passed on the outward journey, and you have the main attributes of Colón. [Illustration: EUCALYPTUS AVENUE: COLÓN. To face p. 166.] Since the topic of the inner man appeals at least as much to the Uruguayan as to any other mortal, there are some very pleasant restaurants set in the midst of this land of eucalyptus. Perhaps the best and prettiest of these is one known by the very English name of the Tea Garden Restaurant. One of the chief peculiarities of the place is that tea is actually partaken of there from time to time, as the modern Oriental is beginning to accord this cosmopolitan beverage a recognised place by the side of coffee and his own native Yerba Maté. At the Tea Garden Restaurant it is possible to lunch by the side of a lake, with ripening grape-bunches above to throw their reflections in the soup, and with the falling petals of orange-blossom floating daintily past the steaming cutlets, while the music of the ducks blends admirably with the clatter of the table weapons. With really good cooking and attentive service added to these side attractions, what more could one want! But the proprietors of the restaurant are nothing if not enterprising. They give the wayfarer something even beyond an excellent meal. At the end of the repast each guest is presented with a ticket that entitles him to a free cab-ride to the tramway terminus. The idea is admirable. Nothing is wanting but the cabs! At all events, when I had concluded lunch there the surface of the fine avenue was innocent of any vehicle, and continued so until the walk to the car was accomplished. But the courtesy of the offer had been effectual, and a certain sense of obligation remained. The bathing-places of Poçitos and Ramirez are akin in many respects to these inland resorts. By the side of the sea here are fewer blossoms and rather smaller eucalyptus groves, but a greater number of open-air restaurants and one or two quite imposing hotels. Indeed, Ramirez, the nearer of the two, is endowed with a really fine casino, that faces the shoreward end of the pier, and that has by its side the spacious and well-timbered public park. Poçitos occupies the next bay, and is notable for its lengthy esplanade and for the very pleasant houses that give upon the semicircular sweep. This bay, moreover, is the first that has, so to speak, turned its back upon the river and has faced the open ocean. As a token, the waters are tinged with a definite blue, and the air holds a genuine sting of salt that rapidly dies away when passing up-stream away from here. To the Buenos Airen, who enthusiastically patronises the place, Poçitos is delightful, if for no other reason than the sense of contrast to his own surroundings that it affords him. Not that he has any reason to grumble at the river frontier of the rich alluvial soil, from out of which his fortunes have been built. But here, in place of the soft, stoneless mud, is bright sand, and genuine rocks, piled liberally all over the shore, that shelter crabs, and pools that hold fish of the varieties that refuse to breathe in any other but guaranteed salt water. So it is that the summer season sees the long rows of tents and bathing machines crowded and overflowing with the Uruguayans and the host of visitors from across the river. Both Ramirez and Poçitos are within the range of the ubiquitous tramcar. But this very efficient service, not content with its excursion of half a dozen miles and more on the ocean side of Montevideo, runs in the opposite direction completely round the port bay, and performs the yet more important journey to Villa del Cerro, the small town that lies at the foot of the hill that is so closely associated with Montevideo and its affairs. A far shorter route to this latter place, however, is by the busy little steam ferry that puffs straight across the bay, and that starts faithfully at every hour, as promised by the timetable, although, if that hour coincides with the one specified, the event may be accepted as a fortunate accident. Its most patriotic inhabitant could not claim loveliness for Villa del Cerro. The existence of the spot is mainly due to the presence of some neighbouring _saladeros_, or meat-curing factories, and thus the small town presents the aspects of the more humble industrial centres. There are two or three regular streets, it is true, that contain a few houses with some faint pretensions to importance. Upon the balconies of these the local señoritas are wont to gather of an evening. They are obviously a little starved in such matters as romance, and a little fearful lest their eye language should lose its eloquence through too long a disuse. Thus the advent of any passing stranger whatever suffices to cause a certain flutter and excitement in the balconies above. Outside these main streets the pattern of the town has been left much to the discretion of its most lowly inhabitants. Buildings composed of unexpected material sprout up from the earth in unexpected places. Earth, boards, tin, and fragments of stone are amongst the commonest of these, although there are a certain number, stiffened by bricks, whose comparatively commonplace exterior looks smug and respectable by the side of the rest. Mounting upwards, the architecture of the outskirts comes as something of a relief, since its simplicity is crude and absolute to the point of excluding any jarring possibilities. The ranchos here are composed of nothing beyond loose fragments of rock piled one on top of the other, with an odd hole here and there that serves for window or door, frequently for both. At one point in the midst of these primitive stone dwellings a small group of scantily clothed boys are playing football, the implement of their game being an old sheepskin rolled into the nearest imitation to a globe to which its folds will consent and held together roughly with string--one more instance of the spreading triumph of football, that wonderful game that seems to conquer its surroundings and to implant itself firmly throughout the world entire. The turf slopes of the Cerro itself are all about one now. From the distance they had appeared of an unbroken green, but when actually approached the broken patches of bare rock upon their surface become evident. The last of the stone shanties are not only contrived upon one of these, but constructed from the very site upon which they repose. The result is a difficulty to distinguish between the natural rock and the habitable flakes. The short turf of the wind-swept Cerro is innocent of blossoms save for the ubiquitous verbena, a few stunted tobacco flowers, and some other lowly blooms. Upon the very summit, where the rock breaks out boldly and piles itself in jagged heaps, is a picturesque fort, from the midst of whose walls of solid masonry rises the dome of the light that guides the ships into the harbour below. The panorama that opens itself out from this point is not a little remarkable. On the one side lies the bay of Montevideo, thickly dotted with its steamers and sailing vessels, with the towers and streets of the capital spreading far inland upon the opposite shore. Beyond this, again, are the undulations of the hills, the coastline, and the ocean that shines brilliantly, although it is only dimly blue. On the other hand stretches the River Plate, whose waters are deepening their yellow as they extend towards the landless horizon, beneath which lies Buenos Aires and Argentina. The Cerro guards the entrance to the great river. It is the first true hill upon its banks--and the last, for over a thousand miles. For the next of its kind signals the approach to Asuncion--beyond Argentina and far beyond the Banda Oriental--in far-away Paraguay. And much water flows between the tropical heat of Asuncion and the cool freshness of this Cerro. Therefore the place is worthy of mark as the southernmost of the two widely separated sentinel hills that guard such different climes. CHAPTER XIV FROM MONTEVIDEO TO THE NORTHERN FRONTIER Leaving Montevideo--General aspects of the Campo--The Rio Negro as a line of demarcation--Growing exuberance of the scenery--_Flor morala_--Blue lupin--Camp flowers--A sparsely populated countryside--Absence of homesteads--A soft landscape--Humble ranchos--Cattle and horses--Iguanas and ostriches--Deer--Cardoso--Influence of climate and marriage upon the colonists--A cheese-making centre--A country of table-lands--A Campo load--Some characteristics of the way--A group of riders--Some contrasts--A country of rocks--Stone walls--Crude homesteads--Kerosene tins as building material--"Camp" stations--The carpets of blossom--Piedra Sola--Tambores--Landscape and nomenclature--Increase in the height of the table-lands--Scenes at a country station--Aspects of the inhabitants--Some matters of complexion--The train and its transformation--Influence of the country upon the carriages--Northern passengers--Metropolitan and local costume--Some questions of clothes and figure--Relations between mistresses and maids--Democratic households--A patriarchal atmosphere--Things as they seem, and as they are--Conversation no guide to profession. A journey from south to north through the heart of Uruguay reveals an infinitely greater variety of landscape and humanity than is suspected by the dwellers in the better known littoral districts of the land. It is true that for the purpose the employment of the homely and convenient railway train is essential. Although it has been my good fortune to drive for day after day and for league upon league through lesser areas of the Uruguayan Campo, to cover such a lengthy stretch as this by means of coach and horses is only possible for him who can afford the supreme luxury of ignoring time. The first portion of the journey, moreover, although far from wearisome in the circumstances, is effected across a landscape almost every league of which presents the exact replica of its neighbours. Once clear of the woods, fields, vineyards, orchards, and flowers that lie so pleasantly to the landward side of Montevideo, the rolling grass waves of the Campo come to stretch themselves from horizon to horizon, rising and dipping with a ceaseless regularity of sweep until it becomes difficult to believe that the entire world itself is not composed of these smiling folds of land. It is not until nearly three hundred kilometres have been traversed, and the train has rumbled over the long bridge that spans the Rio Negro that the first symptoms of a changing scenery become evident. The undulations have become less regular, and the hill-tops are soaring higher into the sky-line. Indeed, the tendency throughout is towards an exuberance that has been hitherto lacking. Thus not only the outbreaks of stone that scar the hill-faces at intervals are bolder in character now, but the wealth of field flowers, too, has grown in extent and brilliance. A broad, glowing bank of the purple _flor morala_ lines the railway track on either hand, pricking across the landscape in twin unbroken bands of colour. Where the loftier flower ceases, the red, white, and mauve of the verbena clings closely to the turf. At longer intervals sprout clumps of blue lupin blossom, while the white mallows, harebells, and tobacco flowers lurk thickly in between the groves of thistle, and large yellow marguerites and daisies mingle with a variegated host of blooms. The countryside is as sparsely populated as elsewhere. League upon league of the great rolling sweeps of the land spread their panorama unflecked by a single homestead. So far as the mere picturesque is concerned, the result is admirable. The soft, dreamy landscape is at its very best when unburdened by human habitation. Yet in such cases the picturesque becomes a luxury won at the expense of the practical. Undoubtedly from the green background of the pastures should shine out the white walls of estancia-houses and ranchos. The time is now probably near enough when such will actually be the case; but in the meanwhile the land waits in complacent patience, sprouting out its grassy covering with contemptuous ease. Yet it must not be imagined that the landscape, however lonely, is altogether deserted. Now and then may be discerned the clump of trees that stand out like islands from the sea to shelter the dwellings of the owners of these great areas of soil. At long intervals, too, springs up a hedge of tall cactus that flanks the humble rancho, whose tin roof, as often as not, is held down in its place by means of small boulders--a feature of architecture that recalls the châlets of Switzerland, although it is certain enough that the respective buildings have nothing else in common. Here and there graze the dumb supporters of the homesteads--herds of cattle, troops of horses, and flocks of sheep. These districts of the centre have not yet attained to the standard of breeding that characterises the lands that fringe the great rivers to the south and west. Thus, the cattle, although sufficiently fat and sleek, lack the finish of the more aristocratic Hereford. Shaggy of coat, long of horn, and exhibiting an utter lack of restraint in the strangely varied colour scheme of their bodies, they are essentially of the _criollo_, or native, order. In the neighbourhood of these licensed occupiers of the pastures are others whose existence is more precarious. These are hares who race away at the advent of a train, and iguanas whose long tails stream behind them as they depart in a flurry. As for the ostriches, they have obviously come to the conclusion that their life is too short and their neck too long for any excitement of the kind. They are plainly bored by the advent of this noisy invention of man, and regard it languidly from the height of the two long legs that repose in a supercilious attitude. On through the undulating Campo, where the rain pools lie like dew ponds upon an English South Down, and where the banks of the intermittent streams of the cañadas thread in and out of the green grass for all the world like the bodies of black snakes. A company of deer are feeding peacefully in the distance, intermingled with the bulky members of a herd of cattle with whom the wild creatures have condescended to associate for the time being. The train has pulled up at Cardoso now, the centre of a district that is considerably more populous than the majority. The place was once the site of a German colony, and indeed the sole reasons why it does not remain so to this day must be laid at the doors of climate, surroundings, intermarriage, and the influence of all three. As it is, chastened by the all-powerful atmosphere of the spot, Teutonic features, customs, and language have already become modified almost to the extinction of the original type. The phenomenon affords only one more of the innumerable instances of the tremendous power of absorption that is latent in the South American continent. In contrast to the mutability of all things intrinsically human, the industry of the community remains the same as when the first colonists, strangers and foreigners, introduced it to the spot. Cheese-making is still the staple trade of Cardoso, and the district is not a little famed for the art. This particular neighbourhood, however, is to be noted for something of more enduring importance than cheese. It is here, indeed, that the soil of the land, after many tentative swellings, each more ambitious than the last, takes upon itself to change its outline in a determined and conclusive fashion. The universal, gentle swell of the undulations has given way to steeper walls of green surmounted by curiously level, flat surfaces. Thus the face of the Campo is now dotted, so far as the eye can reach, with a collection of table-lands, each separate and differing slightly from the rest in the details of its pattern, but each marvellously distinct and clearly cut. The feature is characteristic of central northern Uruguay, and is continued well beyond the frontier into Brazil. Obeying the sociable instinct that so frequently links the railway line with the highway in these parts of the world, the main road runs close alongside the locomotive track. Where it goes the dark, rich soil gleams moistly in every dip, and each cup in the land holds its pool, for heavy rains have preceded the brilliant sunshine of the day. For many leagues the broad surface of the way has been broken by nothing beyond the inevitable attributes of such thoroughfares--the occasional pathetic heap that stands for the dead body of a horse or cow, or the bleaching framework of bones that gleam out sharply after the vultures' and caranchos' feast. But here at length comes a body of riders, half a dozen Gauchos, enveloped in ponchos of various patterns, who are pricking onwards at the easy canter that renders the conquest of any space whatever a question of mere time. Thudding over the hill-tops, splashing through the mud-holes below, the progress of the grim, silent centaurs is as inevitable and certain as the presence of the knives at their belts or the maté-bowl slung by the saddles. Then the train has sped ahead, dragging after it a world of its own as remote from the atmosphere that surrounds the six diminishing horsemen as is the clank of the engine from the light jingling of the silvered bridles. The crop of stone upon the land has become more prolific. The rock has come to adorn the sides of the table-lands more especially, breaking out with precision at the spot where each slope of the green eminences starts out abruptly from the level, after which it continues, unbroken, to the summit. The material, however, has been made to serve for purposes of utility, and here and there are corrals and walls of loosely piled stones, a novel sight to one who is working his way upwards from the south. The scarce ranchos, however, continue on much the same pattern that has characterised them throughout the journey. The crudeness of many of these is scarcely to be excelled in any part of the world. To imagine an edifice composed of the lids and sides of kerosene tins, roofed and finished off at the odd corners by straggling tufts of reed, is to picture the abode of by no means the most humble settler. One or two are embellished, it is true, by a rough trellis work from which the vine-leaves hang thickly, while others are decorated by nothing beyond a variety of multi-coloured garments that hang out in the sunshine to dry. Clustered together, the modest homesteads would appear sordid and mean. As it is, the open solitudes of which each stands as the human centre lend it a certain dignity that is not in the least concerned with the pattern of the structure itself. The train has halted at a couple of small "Camp" stations, and has puffed onwards again, leaving the respective brick buildings, with their scatter of outhouses, to sink back into the lethargy that the passenger train disturbs but for a few minutes every other day. In the neighbourhood of Achar, the latter of these halts, the surrounding country has broken out into an exceptional blaze of flower. The purple of the flor morala stains hillsides entire; the scarlet verbena glows in spreading patches that from a distance might well be mistaken for poppy-fields, while all about are other flower carpets of yellow, blue, and white. The wealth of blossom continues unbroken as far as Piedra Sola, or Solitary Stone--a spot aptly named from a curious square block of rock that reposes upon the top of a mound in so monumental a fashion that it is difficult to believe that it is the work of Nature rather than of human beings--and beyond it, adorning a country that grows ever bolder until Tambores is reached. All the attributes in these primitive parts savour of Nature and of its simplicity. The very nomenclature is affected by this influence. Thus no historical significance is to be looked for in the name of Tambores--drums. The origin of the word lies in the surrounding table-lands that have grown loftier and more accentuated here than their brethren to the south, and whose shape resembles not a little the instruments of war. Tambores is a place of comparative importance. It is true that no architectural beauties are to be looked for at the spot, since the quaint collection of edifices that are scattered in the neighbourhood of the station are almost without exception the tin and reed structures common to the district. Such rare exceptions as exist, moreover, hold out merely minor claims to aristocracy in the shape of an entire sheet or two of corrugated iron. Yet these modest precincts guard a really important cattle and wool centre, and even now many hundreds of bales are lying in readiness in their wagons, while cattle stamp impatiently in the trucks that will bear them southwards to Montevideo. Passing to and fro by the honeysuckle hedge that flanks the platform is a motley collection of folk. The majority of the men are in sad-coloured ponchos, and in _bombachos_ that frequent staining has imbued with an earthy hue. In addition to the railway officials, beshawled women, children, dogs, and hens complete the gathering. A feature that is especially noticeable here is the number of dusky complexions that have come to assert themselves in the midst of the fresh-coloured Uruguayan faces. Quite distinct from the swarthiness of the Indian, the tint here savours undoubtedly of the African. It becomes, moreover, steadily more marked as the Brazilian frontier is approached. Indeed, the evidence of variety is everywhere. Even the conventional aspect of the train itself and of its passengers has undergone no little alteration since the start. As it pulled out from Montevideo the train was undoubtedly a model of its kind that took no little pride in its well-ordered level line of day coaches, and sleeping and restaurant cars. Once well out into the country, however, the democratic influence of the land has overcome its patrician make-up. A passenger coach or two has dropped away at one station; some trucks and goods-vans have been added at another, until its appearance has become as heterogeneous as that of a Uruguayan volunteer soldier in a revolution. In fact, the farther from the capital it gets and the nearer to its destination, the more _négligé_ and doubtless practical does its appearance become. Like to a man who starts out for a walk on a hot summer's day, it is metaphorically trudging along bareheaded, with its coat slung over its shoulder. In the case of the passengers the same may be said without the apology of metaphor. It is in the occupants of the first-class coaches that the transformation is most evident. Many of the men remain in at least portions of the same clothes of metropolitan cut that served them in Montevideo. But ponchos have now been brought out and donned to hide what lies beneath--ponchos of fine texture, these, that stand quite apart from the meaner drapings of the _peon_, but nevertheless essentially national and of the land. As for the women, the few who have remained constant to the train since the beginning of the journey remain in much the same trim as when they first entered the carriage. The persistence may be due to the vanity that is alleged by man to be inherent in woman, or merely to the laudable desire of giving the country cousin an object-lesson in costume. It must be admitted that the garments of these latter tend to comfort somewhat at the expense of appearances. The loosest of blouses, wraps, and skirts are wont to make up a figure in which a waist may at times be suspected, and even occasionally hoped for, but is never seen. Decidedly the procedure savours of rigid honesty on the part of the country cousin. For frankly to promise nothing is surely more admirable than the transient advertisement achieved by the manufacture of merely temporary space in the position rightfully sought for by superfluous material. Many of these country ladies with the honest and unaccentuated figures are accompanied by their maids, these latter for the most part negresses. The bond between mistress and maid is very close here. Indeed, in Northern Uruguay such episodes as a "month's warning," a demand for an extra "night out," the right to "followers," and all other similar bones of contention that arise in more populous centres between employer and employed are unknown. Here the maid, whether she be negress, mottled, or white, obtains an assured, if minor, footing in the family circle. Not only her love affairs but her appetite will call forth the ready sympathy of her mistress. Seated together, their meals will be shared in common, as indeed is occurring in the case of sandwiches and wine in the railway carriage even now. To complete the patriarchial atmosphere, the railway guard has joined one of the groups in question in order to assist, purely platonically, at the impromptu meal, and his manner is equally courteous towards señora and maid. It is certain that he who travels in the remoter parts must put aside all preconceived notions of degree and appearances. Close by is seated a group of young men who are discussing the opera in Montevideo with critical fervour. After a while the conversation, as is inevitable, turns upon politics, and the arguments and views are bandied to and fro with the eloquence common to the race. But there is original philosophy here, whether sound or otherwise. Schemes for alleviating the lot of the humble worker follow hard upon the heels of topics of municipal reform, parliamentary procedure, and the vexed and intricate question of where the Uruguayan-Argentine frontier floats in the broad dividing river. The phrases are wonderfully apt, the proposals astonishingly daring. During a pause in the political discussion one of the debaters explains his own walk in life. He is a jeweller's assistant. Another is head waiter in a Montevidean hotel. These products of the land are undoubtedly bewildering. Each has been talking like a prime minister. CHAPTER XV FROM MONTEVIDEO TO THE NORTHERN FRONTIER --_continued_ A remarkable transformation in Nature--The Valley of Eden--The gateway of the garden--An abrupt descent--From bare plain to sub-tropical forest--Picturesque scenery--Eden station--Some curiosities of nomenclature--Beggary as a profession--The charity of the Latin lands--The cliffs of the valley--Varied aspects of the vegetation--The everlasting sweet pea--Some characteristics of the mountains--A land of tobacco--Negro cultivators--Appearance and dwellings of the colonial population--Some ethics of climate and customs--Tacuarembo--A centre of importance--A picturesque town--Scenes at the station--Some specimens of local humanity--A dandy of the Campo--The northern landscape--The African population--Nature and the hut--The tunnel of Bañada de Rocha--Paso del Cerro--On the Brazilian border--Rivera--A frontier town--Santa Ana--The Brazilian sister township--A comparison between the two--View from a neighbouring hill--The rival claims to beauty of the Uruguayan and Brazilian towns. Tambores has been left behind, and the train is speeding once again through the undulations and table-lands of the pastures. Although the new-comer is unaware of the fact, the climax of the journey is drawing near, and one of the most remarkable transformations in Nature is about to reveal itself with the suddenness of a pantomimic stage-shifting. That the stranger to the land should remain unaware of what lies before him is not surprising. The rolling downs have encompassed him in unbroken sequence from the moment that the outermost suburb of Montevideo was left behind. They are about him now, sinking and rising until their smooth green sweeps upwards in long waves against the blue horizon. Never was a fresher, blowier country, with its every inch open and bare to the sunlight and breeze. It is difficult to imagine such a land rubbing shoulders with a landscape less frank and guileless. Its only fitting boundaries are white cliffs, and, beyond them, the wide ocean. Yet if Nature aspired to human ideals of consistency the hills would go hopping to many a queer tune. After all, it is best to leave it to arrange its surprises in its own way. The first symptom of a coming change is afforded by the appearance of a growth that has remained a stranger to the landscape until now. Rock plants, with thick, heavy, silver leaves and snowy blossoms rise up thickly of a sudden to whiten the ground. Then without warning the train is speeding downwards through the rock walls of a cutting that seems to have opened out from the ground at the call of an Open Sesame steam-whistle. Two or three hundred yards of a steep descent that makes a precipice out of the stone side on either hand, then a rapid widening of the barrier to the view--and the thing is done! The train has entered the Valley of Eden. Just as Adam in his fig-leaf gasped in dismay at his eviction from the garden, so does the modern traveller in boots and buttons exclaim in surprise as he passes through the stone gateway of this later Eden. The two or three hundred yards have made an incredible memory of the open downland. In its place are rugged cliffs to right and left, at the base of which dense sub-tropical forest sends its waves upwards to cling to the stone sides as far as they may. In the centre of the valley is a stream that goes rippling over its rocky bed, overhung with a curtain of flowering trees that hold strange nests within their branches, and the festoons of the lianas that plunge thickly downwards towards the earth. The scene, in fact, holds all the enthusiastic variety of the sub-tropics. Nothing is wanting to the picture. The rock, leaves, flowers, palms, and the vivid patches of smooth green by the edge of the stream have as accessories the turkey-buzzards and black vultures carving their lazy circles above, and the brilliant host of butterflies beneath that float airily to and fro as though to outflash even the wonderful feathers of the local woodpecker. The train, as though itself entirely taken aback by these new aspects of Nature, has been proceeding at little beyond human walking pace. Now it has drawn up by the side of a modest building and a few surrounding huts that are almost smothered in the verdure. Eden station! The sight of the place is far less incongruous than the sound. As a matter of fact the valley itself is well named. No spot could better endow with its glamour the simple life that endures until the inevitable boredom leads to the death of innocence. Nevertheless, the railway company should reserve special accommodation for the garden. Let the traveller proceed to Margate or Southend as he likes. But a third-class ticket to Eden! The thing is inconceivable, yet it is done every day. The advent of the train, however, affords a harvest to at least one inhabitant of this secluded and fair corner. An aged negro, who was undoubtedly born a slave across the Brazilian frontier, is slowly hobbling the length of the train collecting toll from the passengers as he goes. In South America are two professions that stand apart from all the rest. Failing the status of a millionaire, become a beggar by all means! As regards a profitable occupation, not one of the intermediate walks of life can equal the extremes at the social poles. That of politician is perhaps nearest akin to both; but, intrinsically, the phrase is transitory, since a rapid absorption at one end or the other is practically inevitable. The aged negro is collecting his dues with grave complacency. A general dealer in receipts, his profits are by no means restricted to mere cash. Business in centavos is amazingly brisk; but so are the transactions in cigarettes, cigars, fruit, and morsels of food. Ere the train starts the benignity has grown deep upon the old man's face. When the place is lonely and still once more he will totter back to his tiny reed hut, with its insignificant patch of maize, and will smoke, and eat, and drink, in senile enjoyment of the lengthy holiday that separates his tri-weekly half-hours of work. He may thank the God of beggars that he was born in a Latin land. The train is moving onwards once again, and the bold grey cliffs and bluffs recede as the valley widens. Although the first full beauty of the scene has lost by the expansion, the wealth of colour remains. The forest trees for the most part are flecked with brilliant yellow, while the surface of the swamps that now cover the centre of the valley are thickly spangled with the pure white of their own broad blossoms. [Illustration: OXEN DRAWING RAILWAY COACH.] [Illustration: BEFORE THE FAIR: TACUAREMBÓ. To face p. 186.] But an attempt to describe the various growths would be the task of a botanist. One alone must be described for its striking propensities if for nothing beyond. In all directions are bushes of glowing mauve flower--or, at least, so they appear at the first glimpse to the eye. The sight is not a little amazing, since many of the shrubs, a dozen feet in height, are covered from top to bottom with an unbroken coat of petals. A nearer inspection solves the mystery some while after. The flower itself is a parasite, an everlasting sweet pea, that goes the length of concealing from sight the bush on which it depends. In the meanwhile the valley has widened until the well-defined cliffs that hemmed in its beginning have disappeared altogether. But the country remains entirely distinct from the open Campo that preceded the gate of Eden. There is pasture here, it is true, but it is pasture broken and intersected by woodland, river courses, ravines, and mountains. It is curious to remark that among the latter, although many are bold and lofty, there is not a peak to be met with. In obedience to what appears to be a hard-and-fast law of the hills, the top of each is shorn evenly across, leaving a flat and level summit. The country is one of tobacco now as well as of maize, and the aspect of the cultivators coincides to a great extent with the popular notions of the _mise en scène_ of the tobacco-fields. The population of the tiny mud huts that decorate the land is almost entirely negro, and the inevitable piccaninny is much in evidence, having apparently escaped in shoals from the London music-hall stage. The costume of the younger boys, however, would scarcely pass muster in a more conventional neighbourhood. The sole garment of many of the younger ones consists of a shirt, and a very frayed one at that--a costume that is eminently suitable to the palm-tree, but criminal beneath the oak. The next halt is at a place of importance, one of the chief features, in fact, of the Far North. Tacuarembo numbers a population of almost eight thousand, which, although the figure may not impress the outer world, renders the spot something of an urban giant in the neighbourhood. As though to compensate for its lack of imposing buildings, Tacuarembo is exceedingly picturesque. With its avenues of tall trees, and its houses peering everywhere from beneath the shade of an unusual richness of vegetation, the place is sufficiently delightful and striking in its own fashion. The station itself gives the keynote to the aspects of the place. Within half a dozen yards of where the white steam goes hissing upwards from the engine the green young peaches hang in thick clusters from their branches. To their side is a hedge of blossoming roses that continues until the flowery architecture changes abruptly to a wall of golden honeysuckle. At the rear of this, surrounding the outer yard of the place, are poplars and eucalyptus, while the heavy scent of the purple paraiso-tree overpowers the fainter colours of the mimosa. A dozen or so of the local "coches" are waiting in the shade of all these and in that of the vines that clamber upwards by their side. They are crude affairs, whose lack of paint and polish is more than counteracted by the dictatorial attitudes of the brigand-like drivers who lounge at ease upon the boxes. It must be admitted that the manners of these latter are far less formidable than their appearance. Indeed, they smile far more graciously than the corresponding metropolitan tyrants of South America as they drive off one by one, bearing away their patrons beneath the shady avenues. The majority of folk, however, remain for some while to chat together, since in these parts the railway station is an accepted centre of sociability. The queer medley of the crowd possesses its own charm. A group of officers in dark uniforms and red kepis rub shoulders with Gauchos and peones in dark clothes and black or blue _bombachos_. Beyond is a knot of women in the homely and loose costume of the district, bare-headed, and with hair drawn tightly back to be wound into a plain knot at the back of the head. An elaborate dandy, dressed ostentatiously in the favourite black from head to foot, is extracting a few centavos from the pockets of his shining velvet waistcoat with which to endow a couple of dissolute-looking beggars who have drawn near. Although the jet-black faces of the negroes and the browner tints of the half-castes are much in evidence, the countenances of the true Uruguayans remain remarkably fair and fresh. Indeed, the features of many are unusually handsome, and curiously untouched by the stress of heat and climate. Perhaps the most striking of all in the neighbourhood is the tall figure of one who has detached himself from a group of friends, and is walking toward where a line of tethered horses is waiting. Like the other who has been distributing alms to the beggar, he is clad from head to foot in black. Nevertheless, the aspects of the two are as different as night and day. The one is a walker of the streets, this latter a true lord of the Campo. Unmistakably a landed proprietor of no little consideration, his costume affects the Gaucho to a marked degree. With scarf wound negligently round his neck, loose jacket, and broad bombachos, the spotless black of the finest material is finished off by the light boots of the man whose life is spent in the saddle. In his hand the _rebenque_--the inevitable riding-whip--glistens with its silver carving, a work of art. None could deny the coquetry of his appearance; but this is the stern coquetry of the warrior and hunter, as a glance at his grave, rather hawklike features will confirm. A strikingly handsome figure of a man, he stalks with assured tread, raising his sombrero with a simple gesture to acquaintances, until he reaches the spot where the line of horses are tethered. His mount is a magnificent bay, whose leathers and bridle are silvered as thickly as they may be and yet remain flexible, while the saddle and stirrups are heavily coated with the same material. He has swung himself into the saddle now, and is riding away, forcing his horse with consummate ease into a series of curvets and caracoles that evoke admiration even from the numerous professional centaurs in the crowd. But the rider never once looks back as he swings away in the shade of the trees. The romantic figure is either unconscious of admiration or too accustomed to the tribute to be concerned. In any case, he is a product of the land, a veritable paladin. To the north of Tacuarembo are grass hills overshadowed by the inevitable tall table-lands. Where the rock juts out from the side of these the fronds of many varieties of fern sprout thickly, and by their sides are clumps of evening primrose, everlasting pea, and a wealth of far more brilliant blossoms of the tropical order. In the hollows the vegetation of the wooded streams grows ever more luxurious, and here the flowers star the banks in the wildest riot of profusion. Seeing that it is springtime, all this is as it should be. But there cannot be many parts of the world whose inhabitants are permitted such a striking reminder of the season as is the case just here. In the neighbourhood of one of these enchanting streams is a very humble mud hut. Its dwellers are pure Africans, and they are just without, enjoying a sun-bath with all the zest of the race. But the interest of this particular spot is not concerned with them at all; it is centred upon the modest homestead itself. The mud walls have responded in an amazing fashion to the call of the year. Not content with a background of lichen and moss, they have flung out lengthy streamers of fern, from amidst which peer shyly the blossoms of various plants. Obedient to the impulse of spring, each of the four sides has garbed itself thus. In less exuberant parts the effect would be strained for with toil and achieved with triumph. But here the black inhabitants regard their eloquent house as a matter of course. Just after leaving the small station of Bañada de Rocha is a tunnel. This fact may appear totally unworthy of mention--anywhere else but within the countries bordering on the River Plate. Here a tunnel is an object to be paused at, and to be inspected with not a little curiosity. Although it is possible that some minor burrowings may exist, to the best of my belief the three republics of Argentina, Uruguay, and Paraguay can count no more than two regular tunnels between them. The wonderful shaft bored through the heart of the Andes is one--the other is before us here at Bañada de Rocha. As the only specimen of its kind in Uruguay, therefore, it is not without distinction, and is worthy of at least a passing remark. After passing through the tunnel the line drops down into a fairly wide plain, hemmed in by numerous low ranges of the inevitable flat-topped hills, while a few elevations of the same curious nature dot the country in the nearer neighbourhood of the track. In a short while, however, the more broken country has surged up all about once again, bearing upon its surface quaint rocky projections, some shaped exactly as tables, others in the form of sugar-loaves, while yet others resemble giant mushrooms sprouting cumbrously from the soil. Ere reaching the station of Paso del Cerro a great grove of carolina-trees rises majestically, and in the grateful shadow of the branches a long line of bullock-wagons, each vehicle loaded with the wool for which the region is noted, goes winding its way towards the station in the stolid fashion of such processions. Paso del Cerro is delightfully situated, facing as it does a range of hills whose surface is dotted with ranches that appear picturesque enough in the distance. Beyond this point lofty cliffs of rock soar aloft, pressing near to the line. In the nooks and crannies of the great walls are dwarf trees of fantastic shapes that make pleasant breaks here and there in the bare rock of the surface. A little farther on the colour of the soil begins to undergo a transformation, and soon the red sandstone--the colour that is typical of the same, as well as the more northern, latitudes in the surrounding republics--is stretching everywhere to join with the green in dominating the landscape. A few more wayside stations, and then Rivera and the Brazilian frontier are drawing near, while the mountain ranges that mark the Brazilian territory are already in sight. Rivera is a town of no little local importance, small though its extent may be as it nestles in a hollow in the midst of the hills. The soft pink of its buildings and the red of its roads and hillsides contrast delightfully with the green foliage and brilliant flowers with which the spot is so liberally endowed. Rivera, moreover, is a place that can lay claim to some quite notable characteristics of its own. It possesses, for instance, a magnificent avenue, the Sarandi, that stretches for over a mile, shaded by trees for all its length, from off the central portion of which lies the pretty little plaza. [Illustration: FRONTIER STONE AT RIVERA.] [Illustration: TUNNEL AT BAÑADA DE ROCHA. To face p. 192.] The best view of both the town and of the surrounding country is to be obtained from the solitary hill near by that marks the boundary between the two republics, and that bears upon its summit an old and battered boundary-stone. Viewed from here the panorama is fascinating. To the north, and immediately below, lies Santa Ana, the Brazilian sister-township of Rivera, that sends out its buildings almost to join walls with those of the Uruguayan. Santa Ana itself presents a picturesque enough prospect with its white houses and luxuriant gardens, its wide, unpaved, shadeless streets, its rambling barracks, and its red-bricked bullring. As a background to this bright, sunlit picture, and one that throws it into strong relief, rise range upon range of the dark hills with their shaven summits, starting up abruptly in the first instance from the confines of the town itself, and fading away gradually into the misty distance of the province of Rio Grande. Skirting the base of the hill to the east is a short avenue devoid of buildings that serves as the frontier line, and marks with no little emphasis where one town ends and the other begins. The significance of the spot is accentuated by the sight of the sentry-boxes of the frontier guards and custom officials. To the south, reclining in its own hollow, lies Rivera, with its shady avenues and its conspicuous round-towered church. The aspects of the two towns are curiously different, considering the fact that from their absolute propinquity they form to all intents and purposes a single city. In the first place the difference in the tint of each is marked. The general colour of the Rivera houses is red, while that of Santa Ana is pure white. The distinction is merely the result of differing national customs. The houses of both places are constructed of precisely similar stone, but the Brazilian prefers to face his walls with plaster. _Autres pays, autres moeurs_; but it is seldom that the contrast may be viewed from so near at hand. The architecture, moreover, of the Santa Ana buildings is of a much squarer and older design than that of those in the Uruguayan town. The former city, as a matter of fact, is considerably more ancient than the latter, to which not only the growing timber but the buildings as well bear witness. In Santa Ana the trees, although not nearly so numerous, have attained to far grander proportions than has been the case with those across the border. If one should not judge humanity from outward appearance, the procedure is even less wise in dealing with a collection of human habitations. Feminine powder and rouge are as mere toys in the matter of guile compared with the alluring scenic effect that a city is capable of producing by means of bricks and mortar. Judged from the summit of the hill without, Santa Ana presents an even more inviting appearance than that of Rivera. Once within the walls the aspects of the situation alter abruptly. Santa Ana possesses one spot of beauty, it is true. Its luxuriant and shady plaza where the date-palms flourish is an oasis of delight set in the midst of sordid surroundings and dusty heat. With this exception, it must be admitted that the place is shadeless, dirty, and evil-smelling. The streets of Rivera, on the contrary, are clean, well paved, and sheltered from the rays of the sun by the innumerable green branches that stretch so pleasantly above. The townsfolk, moreover, differ less from those of Montevideo than might be imagined, although the heat of the climate has been responsible for a rather sallower and swarthier type. CHAPTER XVI HERE AND THERE IN URUGUAY Uruguayan roads--A comparison with those of Argentina--The benefits of stone--Some fine metalled highways--The road to San José--On the way to Pando--The journey as effected by motor-car--A smiling landscape--Distant sand-dunes--A spotless range--The mountains of Minas--The town of Pando--A typical minor urban centre--The ending of the macadamised road--The track beyond--An abrupt change in the order of going--The bumps of the Campo--Piriapolis--A budding pleasure resort--Completeness of the enterprise--Eucalyptus forests--A vehicular wreck by the way--Unsuccessful Samaritans--The work of Señor Piria--The Castillo--An imposing home--View from the spot--The Pan de Azucar--A landscape of mountain, valley, forest, and sea--Architecture of the Castillo--Piriapolis Bay--A centre of future bathing--Preparations already effected--The hotel and casino--A wonderful feat of private enterprise--Afforestation--Encouragement of the industry by the Uruguayan Government--The work of Mr. Henry Burnett--The transformation of arid soil into fertile land--Commercial success of the venture--The Maldonado sand-dunes--Fulgurites--A curiosity of the sands--Discoveries by Mr. C. E. R. Rowland. A feature that is not a little remarked upon by those who have entered Uruguay from the stoneless Pampa of Argentina is the excellence of the roads that surround Montevideo, and of several, indeed, that penetrate for a considerable distance inland. The highway to the town of San José, for instance, that extends for ninety-six kilometres is macadamised throughout its length, and is, moreover, excellently constructed and sustained. The benefits of convenient deposits of stone are strikingly emphasised here. Now that a start has been made, there is no reason why efficient roads of the kind should not pierce the countryside in all directions. For, notwithstanding the natural fertility of its soil, there is scarcely a corner throughout the whole length and breadth of the Republic that is not seamed to a smaller or larger extent with these layers of useful stone, the eruption of which frequently marks the surface itself of the land. The road to San José, as a matter of fact, is by no means the only important one of its kind. There are various similar specimens, equally well constructed if of less imposing length. A very admirable road leads from the capital to the small town of Pando in the neighbouring province of Canelones. The journey by motor-car is an easy one, and renders an admirable insight into the nature of the country in this particular district. Curiously enough, the least smooth portion of this highway is represented by a mile or so of its length on the outskirts of Montevideo itself. This point once passed, however, the undulations in the surface of the road die away, and the broad grey thoroughfare stretches with remarkable smoothness over hill and dale. The car can snort along at the utmost speed its power will permit, since the grey band opens out ahead with a refreshing openness that is totally devoid of secrecy, and only at the lengthiest intervals is its surface darkened by the form of a rider or of a lumbering country cart. The progress is of the switchback order, with long-drawn-out rises and falls that are effected with alternate exuberance and strainings, while on either hand the fields, verdure, and masses of fruit blossom speed by in very pleasant sequence. For a spring shower has laid the dust, and when the Oriental landscape smiles, its countenance is supremely fascinating. As though to add just the tinge of sombreness that is requisite for the accentuation of the delightful scene, a dark forest of eucalyptus stands out here and there by the way, the massive serried trunks and branches painting the landscape with a heavy splash of gloom. For the first few leagues the aspect of the country--although the great variety of its attributes preserves it entirely from the taint of mere monotony--remains much the same. After a while, however, the skyline to the right becomes lightened in a rather remarkable fashion. The foreground is a medley of green, brown, and purple--rendered respectively by the hills, trees, orchards, and a patch or two of ploughed soil. At the back of these rich colours a range of very lofty snow-white sand-dunes has risen up. The gleaming barrier marks the frontier-line of the land; upon its farther side, invisible, of course, from inland, are the breakers of the South Atlantic Ocean. Indeed, the effect of this spotless range, when viewed from the shoreward side, is doubly curious, since the verdant landscape that leads right up to them gives no other indication of the propinquity of the sea. To the north-east elevations of quite another kind have been slowly rising upwards from the horizon as the car speeds along. As the town of Pando itself is more nearly approached, the distant mountains of Minas have swollen into view to assert themselves in a fashion that is not to be overlooked. Great rounded masses piled in dim purple against the horizon, their aspect presents a sharp contrast to that of the dunes close by. The latter are shadowless things, clear-cut and wanting in depth for all their purity; the inland mountains are deep and secretive, with an outline that confounds itself mysteriously with the sky. The town of Pando itself is remarkable for little in the way of commercial or industrial development beyond forming the centre of a very flourishing agricultural district. The place possesses a quaint red-brick church, the walls of which are adorned with a curious number of balconies. With this exception the buildings are unpretentious; but almost every one is lent its own particular charm by the wealth of gardens and shade-trees with which the spot is endowed. Pando, indeed, is one of those very pleasant minor urban centres with which Uruguay is so plentifully besprinkled, with its delightful surroundings of orchards, vineyards, and cultivated land planted here and there with eucalyptus forests and with groves of other trees. In the near neighbourhood of the town runs a typical Uruguayan stream, its banks thickly lined with verdure, more especially with the weeping willows whose branches droop downwards in a thick green curtain over the water's edge. [Illustration: EUCALYPTUS FOREST: PIRIAPOLIS.] [Illustration: THE CASTILLO: PIRIAPOLIS. To face p. 198] It is at this placid rural centre that the macadamised road ends. There is no mistaking the terminus of the metalled highway. One turn of the wheels of the car has left the smooth, hard surface behind--and then begins quite another order of going. The progress of an automobile over a representative local road of the country partakes of many elements, amongst others of those of steeplechasing, toboganning, and of the switchback railways common to those centres less well provided with natural forms of excitement. The mounds and valleys of the way provide an unbroken succession of surprises to which the car responds by lurching and dipping wildly, although the dexterity of the driver keeps it staggering upon its four wheels. Nevertheless, a very little of this goes a long--or an incredibly short--way. So after a while the nose of the car is turned--a manoeuvre that demands as much caution as putting a small boat about in a gale--and the vehicle bumps its way back again through the smiling outskirts of Pando to come to rest, as it were, upon the hard, grey road again. The sand-dunes of which a glimpse has been obtained at Piriapolis are characteristic of almost the entire length of the Uruguayan coast that gives upon the Atlantic Ocean. There are many spots along this open shore that are well worthy of a visit. Not the least of these is Piriapolis--a place that is in the act of making a very bold bid for popularity as a pleasure resort. Piriapolis is a spot of no little interest. Situated a little to the west of Maldonado on the southern coast that faces the open Atlantic, the place is a budding town, and is noteworthy as much for what it promises in the future as for its present aspects, interesting enough though they are. Piriapolis is remarkable in being a one-man place--by which no connection is implied with the one-horse epithet of tradition--in that it has emanated from the mind and pocket of a prominent Uruguayan, Señor Francisco Piria. Piriapolis lies to the coastward side of the railway line that is being prolonged in the direction of Maldonado, and, as matters at present stand, it is necessary to board a construction train, and to proceed soberly along the unballasted track to the point where the coach, with its four horses abreast, waits in readiness to complete the journey. It must be admitted that the road that goes rising and falling over the hilly country is not good. The future will doubtless endow the district with a network of highways of quite another kind. But Piriapolis is young. Hence the unfortunate wagon that is lit upon, shortly after the start, stuck hard and fast in the deep mud of a hollow. In the way of good Samaritans, horses are detached from the coach to assist in the struggle; but the tenacious mud clings in unyielding obstinacy to its wheeled prey. In the end the contest is abandoned for the time being; the lent horses return to their place in front of the coach, and the driver of the wagon departs gloomily to scour the neighbouring country in search of oxen. As the coach proceeds, the way lies through a wild and mountainous country that bears not a little resemblance to portions of the South West of Ireland. But here in the place of the whitewashed Irish cabins are mud ranchos, almost every one of which reposes beneath the sheltering branches of its own particular unit or group of ombú-trees. After a little more than an hour's drive the aspect of the country to the front changes abruptly, and presently the coach enters the cool shade of a great forest of eucalyptus and pine. It is difficult to conceive these stretches of giant trees as not having covered the soil for generations. Yet less than twenty years ago the face of this particular district was as bare as any of that of the surrounding country, since it is only eighteen years ago that Señor Piria planted the first sapling that went to form this present forest land. Roads of a better order now prick their way the length of the woodland aisles, and after a while a lonely little store and post-office stand out from amidst the trees. A little beyond evidences of civilisation appear quite unexpectedly. A pair of fine wrought-iron gates are to the front. Once through these an avenue, adorned by statues at intervals of a few yards, leads to a square turreted building that is known as the _castillo_, or castle, of Señor Piria himself. The dwelling is a pleasant one, with its broad stone terraces that overlook pretty grounds, covered with semi-tropical trees, shrubs, and flowers, laid out after the Italian style. The view obtained from the upper terrace here is decidedly beautiful. Beyond the gardens spread broad orchards and vineyards, and at the back of these again on one side is a belt of forest that covers the ground for seven miles and more until the edge of the sea itself is reached--a sparkling line of blue that is visible in the distance from here. On the opposite side rises a rugged hill of immense queer-shaped boulders, from the interstices of which grows a dense tangle of scrub. By far the most conspicuous object, however, in the whole panorama is the aptly named Pan de Azucar, or Sugar Loaf Mountain, that rises to a height of some two thousand feet on the west of the castle. The hill is a bare mass of serrated rock, and represents one of the highest points in the Republic. It is the dominating feature in a landscape that affords a wonderful combination of mountain, valley, forest, and sea. The architecture of the castillo itself is somewhat original. The ground floor is almost entirely occupied by the guests' bedrooms, apartments with great vaulted ceilings that open promiscuously the one into the other. The living apartments are on the first floor, and the walls of the central hall are hung with many old Italian paintings. Above this again is the square tower that stands as the summit of the house. I mention the architecture more particularly, since it is entirely unusual, the ordinary country houses of Uruguay being almost without exception constructed on a single floor. The seven miles of eucalyptus forest that intervene between the castillo and the sea afford a delightful drive to the shore of Piriapolis Bay. This portion of the coast consists of a shelving sandy shore eminently suited for the purposes of bathing, and is backed by an imposing vista of forest and mountain. The hill immediately behind the bay, by the way, is locally known as the Sierra de los Ingleses, having been employed, it is said, for the purposes of smuggling in the old days by English sailors. It is at this point that the future town and pleasure resort of Piriapolis is to be situated. Some considerable start in this direction has already been made, as will be evident when it is explained that a great hotel has already been constructed, and is now complete, and ready for the day when it shall be officially opened. The place is of quite a palatial order, and is provided with no less than 120 bedrooms, as well as with a magnificent dining-room and very spacious apartments and lounges. A broad terrace runs the entire length of the building on the seaward side, and the tide, when at its highest, reaches to within twenty yards of the hotel itself. A very useful addition to the place is a large vegetable and fruit garden that holds everything of the kind that is needed. The plants and trees flourish amazingly well here, although, curiously enough, their roots are planted in no more satisfying a soil than sand. The enterprise, however, has not contented itself with the erection of the hotel. In the neighbourhood of this building is a small casino, destined to be employed for the purpose of games of chance, and almost the entire margin of the bay is dotted by little, square, four-roomed châlets. At some distance from the hotel a stone mole is in the course of construction, and it is here, of course, that the pleasure steamers will land their passengers when the place is once in the full swing of its active life. [Illustration: THE PAN DE AZUCAR MOUNTAIN.] [Illustration: THE NEW HOTEL: PIRIAPOLIS. To face p. 202.] At present the place stands empty--a prepared shell awaiting this influx. As a feat of private enterprise Piriapolis must take a high rank; for the difficulties of transport have added vastly to the labour of the undertaking. It is a beautiful spot, in any case, and the pleasure resort should meet with all the success it deserves. The topic of Piriapolis brings us to the question of afforestation. On this portion of the coast the science is undoubtedly one of supreme importance, and one to which of late years a fitting amount of attention has been paid. The Government of Uruguay has very wisely done much towards the encouragement of tree-planting and the transformation of apparently arid areas to regions of genuine fertility. As an instance of this liberal and progressive policy it may be mentioned that in 1909 Mr. Henry Burnett, the British Vice-Consul at Maldonado, was awarded a gold medal and a bonus of three thousand dollars for having been the first to plant a collection of over ten thousand maritime pines. The labour in the first instance of inducing these young trees to grow was arduous, and time after time the budding plantation was buried beneath the masses of driven sand. With the eventual survival, however, of the first screen the remainder of the task proved easy, and Mr. Burnett has now in his possession over one hundred thousand maritime pines. Encouraged by this example, numerous other landholders of the district have succeeded in cultivating similar plantations, and the result has proved highly beneficial, not only in the transformation of the country but from the commercial point of view as well. For districts that until recently were absolutely worthless are now valued at anything from ten dollars to forty dollars the hectare. A peculiar characteristic of these Maldonado sand-dunes is to be met with in the fulgurites that are found there--the vitrified sand-tubes caused by the action of lightning that are referred to by Darwin on the occasion of his visit to the spot. Similar phenomena obtain in a few other corners of the world, but those found here are by far the largest in size, some extending to no less than five feet in length. Owing, however, to their extremely fragile nature, it is impossible to extract these larger specimens in any fashion but in comparatively small fragments. Mr. C. E. R. Rowland, the British Vice-Consul at Montevideo, has taken especial interest in these fulgurites of the Maldonado Sands. The British Museum contains some very fine specimens sent by him, and he has supplied the national museum at Montevideo with its first specimens of these curiosities. This same gentleman, by the way, quite recently discovered two distinct species of Uruguayan lizards that, sent for classification to the South Kensington Natural History Museum, were discovered to be of kinds that until then had been perfectly unknown. They remain in the museum to which they were sent, dignified by the name of their discoverer. CHAPTER XVII MERCEDES AND THE SWISS COLONY The journey to Mercedes--The outskirts of Montevideo--Santa Lucia--A pleasant town--Native quince and gorse--San José--The terminus of a great highway--Some feats of engineering--The urban importance of San José--A modern flour mill--Mal Abrigo--Character of the soil--A country of boulders--Some animals of the Sierra de Mal Abrigo--The surroundings of Mercedes--A charmingly situated town--The terminus of the line--Some characteristics of Mercedes--Urban dwellings--The delights of the patio--The disadvantages of economy in space--Streets and plazas--The hospital--A well-equipped institution--View from the building--An island in Rio Negro--The Port of Mercedes--River craft--Some local scenes--An equine passenger--Formidable gutters--The industries of the town--The Hôtel Comercio--Colonia Suiza--Situation of the Swiss Colony--Uruguayan Campo dwellings--Method of construction--Simplicity of household removals--Aspect of deserted huts--The houses of the Swiss Colony--Habits in general of South American colonists--The range of nationalities--Liberty accorded--Population of the Colonia Suiza--Its industries--A dairy-farming community--An important butter factory--An instance of a rapid rise from poverty to riches. The railway journey from Montevideo to the town of Mercedes, on the Rio Negro, is of ten hours' duration. The first portion of the run is, of course, through the pleasant suburbs of the capital that have already been sufficiently described. At Juanico, some forty kilometres distant from the starting-point, the denser plantations and orchards have already fallen away, and the country has definitely assumed its natural grazing character, broken into here and there by large areas of alfalfa. The place, as a matter of fact, is an important dairy centre, from which Montevideo obtains a considerable proportion of its butter, milk, and cheese. Santa Lucia, the next halt, is another of those smiling Oriental towns embowered in gardens and orchards, and surrounded by tree-dotted pastures. Close to the confines of the town runs the Santa Lucia River, with its banks thickly bordered by willows and poplars that at one point give way to a wide avenue of the popular and gigantic eucalyptus. The spot is much patronised in the summer for the purpose of picnics; for--to his credit be it said--the Uruguayan is a great connoisseur of the _al fresco_ and its charms. On leaving Santa Lucia the railway line makes a sweeping bend, and then crosses the river by an iron bridge that proudly claims the distinction of being the longest on the system. Upon the farther side of the stream the country is brightened by the innumerable blossom sprays of the many wild quince-trees, and by the broad clumps of glowing gorse. Soon, however, the aspect of the landscape alters again, and the train is speeding once more through the open Campo of pasture-land and of wheat and barley fields. San José, the next town of importance to be reached, is remarkable as being the terminus of a splendid macadamised road that runs a distance of ninety-six kilometres from Montevideo to this point. This excellent highway is constructed in a really imposing fashion, and is engineered with a lordly disregard of all obstacles. Just before reaching San José, for instance, it crosses the river in the neighbourhood of the town by a magnificent bridge no less than 360 metres in length. This work was commenced by an Uruguayan engineer in 1906, and was completed in 1909, at a cost of nearly two hundred thousand gold dollars. The Uruguayans take a vast amount of very just pride in this structure, which is probably one of the finest road bridges in existence. It forms a fitting conclusion, moreover, to the best road in lower South America. The town of San José itself is fairly important from the point of view of population, since it numbers thirteen thousand inhabitants--a fact that places it in the first rank of the country towns of the Republic. Its chief church dominates all the remaining buildings, and affords a notable landmark for many miles around. With the exception of this, San José contains little of interest. It is, in fact, merely a typical "camp" town that serves the surrounding agricultural area. A most up-to-date mill that turns out daily twenty-one tons of flour is, however, worthy of remark, since from the moment that the wheat is dumped into the granary to that when it emerges as fine flour and is mechanically poured into sacks, the whole process is effected by machinery. Beyond San José the line climbs gradually to the summit of a small sierra, whence a spreading panorama of the surrounding country is obtained. On leaving Mal Abrigo, the next station, the character of the landscape alters. The rich, black, vegetable soil has given way to a rocky surface. Huge boulders of all shapes are strewn everywhere as though flung by some giant upheaval into their tremendous confusion. In the intervals of these great rocks grow thorny trees and shrubs. Indeed, this Sierra de Mal Abrigo differs from anything that has gone before. Hares abound in the neighbourhood, and at the approach of the train great numbers of the animals speed away behind the sheltering boulders. The armadillo, too, is especially plentiful in this region, which seems to favour the partridge and martineta almost equally well. Bizcocho is the last point of call before reaching Mercedes, from which it is distant some twenty kilometres. From here the ground--once again an open, treeless plain--slopes continuously as it descends towards the valley at the Rio Negro. At the near approach to Mercedes itself the country assumes the smiling aspect that seems the inevitable attribute of the environs of the Uruguayan towns. Gardens, orchards, streams, plantations, vineyards--all these flit past in rapid sequence, until the train pulls up at Mercedes station, the terminus of the line. This terminus of the line is well defined in more senses than one. The station is situated on a bluff that hangs immediately over the Rio Negro. It is merely necessary to proceed to the end of the rails, just beyond the platform, in order to look sheer down upon the water of the river some hundred feet below. A thoughtful act on the part of the railway company to halt on the very brink, and thus to supply a panorama in the place where the rails can no longer travel! [Illustration: MERCEDES: FROM ACROSS THE RIO NEGRO. To face p. 208.] As a town Mercedes is attractive to a degree. The place can boast of no great size, it is true, since its population does not exceed ten thousand. Yet it is exceptionally fortunate both in its situation and in the style of its buildings. The main portion of the city consists of some half-dozen streets running parallel to the river, crossed by a rather greater number of thoroughfares that lead directly from the water's edge. The houses are almost without exception of the older style of architecture--rather low, spreading buildings, each of which encloses one of those charming patios that, alas! are now growing steadily fewer with each year. Surely nothing is more delightful than this verdure-filled courtyard set in the midst of the house--the small stone-bound garden with its flowers, shrubs, and palms, on to which give all the lower rooms of the establishment! They would doubtless continue to exist for centuries were it not for the growing power and insistence of their chief enemy, economy of space! The streets and plazas of Mercedes are fairly animated, for the town is the centre of considerable social life. The majority of folk here are of rather darker complexion than those of the capital, but the women are almost equally good-looking. _Coches_ are plentiful in the town; each of the two-horsed buggies will seat six people with ease, and even then will speed along at an exhilarating pace, for the steeds of these public conveyances are both willing and well cared for. The highest point of the town is occupied by the hospital. This, like so many other Uruguayan institutions of the kind, is a very fine establishment, well appointed, and provided with large, airy rooms and corridors. From the roof of this hospital is revealed a magnificent view of the town and its surroundings. The entire panorama is one not easily to be forgotten. So far as the river itself is concerned, it is possible from this point of vantage to follow its windings for miles in both directions. The river here, by the way, attains to very nearly a quarter of a mile in width--no despicable stretch of water even for a tributary of the mighty Uruguay. In mid-stream just opposite Mercedes is an island--a gem of an island embowered in luxurious vegetation, and completely fringed by large weeping willows, whose drooping festoons of green all but touch the waters. In conformity with the utilitarian spirit of the age, a scheme is on foot for the construction of an hotel in this place, and surely no more alluring spot could be lit upon for the purpose--although the danger to the landscape from the erection of an unsuitable building would be very real. Between this island and the buildings of the town is the port. Here the topsail schooners and the various river craft of all descriptions lie at anchor, including the small stern-wheel steamers that serve for the passenger traffic into the far interior of the land, and a few large barges piled high with the bones of cattle. Jutting out into the stream near here is a small mole, from which point a small motor-ferry is wont to ply to and fro, and thus give connection with the Fray Bentos road upon the opposite shore. Just to the left of this, anchored in mid-river, lies a large houseboat, which serves as the headquarters of the local rowing and swimming clubs. It is, of course, in this neighbourhood that the river life is at its busiest. Upon the rocky shore are groups of women in bright-coloured dresses busily employed in washing household linen and various garments--a sight, as a matter of fact, that may be anticipated with certainty upon any populous Oriental river bank. The motor-ferry, too, has by no means the monopoly of transit, and numerous smaller craft are continually passing from one shore to the other. Their occupants are not necessarily limited to the human species. Here, for instance, is a horse being brought across in a small rowing boat. The animal appears quite unconcerned; he is doubtless accustomed to the aquatic excursions in so tiny a skiff. Returning from the riverside, a peculiar characteristic of the Mercedes streets should attract the eye, or, failing this, stumblings will ensue of a certainty. On either side of the roadway is an immense gutter of over a yard in depth and width. These portentous channels serve to carry off the rainfall of the heavy storms that occur from time to time, and on a dark night constitute formidable obstacles in the path of an unwary foot-passenger. Mercedes possesses a fairly important _saladero_, and, in addition, constitutes a centre of the charcoal-burning industry. A couple of hundred tons of this commodity is frequently shipped from the place in the course of a month. So far as hotels are concerned, the Comercio is distinctly to be recommended. The establishment is well above the average of those that the ordinary provincial town can boast, being clean, airy, and comfortable, and provided, moreover, with a very genial host. Colonia Suiza is situated, some twenty miles inland from the coast, midway between Mercedes and Montevideo. In order to reach this very picturesque spot from the former town by rail it is necessary to hark back to Mal Abrigo, from which junction the run to the Swiss Colony is a short one. The country through which the journey is made is of the usual grazing order, sparsely populated, the ground being marked only here and there by a typical Uruguayan rancho. The modest establishments of this particular district are worthy of special mention. Each is contrived from square blocks of turf, carefully cut, and placed one on top of the other with the grass edge downwards. The exterior of the walls is left without any attempt at facing or adornment, and thus presents a distinctly crude and peculiar appearance. The dwelling, however, is rendered snug and waterproof by being plastered from within. These walls are extremely well made, considering the fact that their composition is not assisted by any additional material. The roof is made of wood, cut in lengths, and thatched over with wood or straw. Household removals on the Uruguayan campo are not necessarily matters of weighty thought, whose occurrence is to be anticipated with dread for many months beforehand. When the family who owns one of these mud ranches decides to move, the procedure is very simple. The roof, doors, and windows of the home are taken down and collected. After which it is merely necessary for the party to pack these along with them on horseback, until a suitable site is lit upon for a new erection of turf into which the portable finishing touches may be inserted. That effected, the owners are once more at home. As for the discarded dwelling, it remains much as before, save that it is minus roof, door, and windows. Many of these skeleton huts are to be met with on the rolling face of the country. They possess this in common with birds' nests, that from a distance it is difficult to ascertain whether they are occupied or to let. If deserted, there is no reason why any chance family on the move should not take possession by no more formal means than that of affixing roof, door, and windows in the gaps that await them. Many of these ranchos, by the way, are surrounded by very pretty gardens, and hedged in by tall hedges of geranium and rose. Once arrived at the Swiss Colony, however, the aspect of the dwellings becomes altogether changed. The houses here resemble strongly the châlets of the Swiss mountains, for, like the remaining colonies of the kind throughout the River Plate republics, the immigrants have introduced their own ways and fashions of living. Indeed, the existence of such bodies provides an ample testimonial of the conditions of freedom under which life is conducted in these countries. [Illustration: RIO NEGRO BRIDGE.] [Illustration: ON THE RIO NEGRO. To face p. 212.] The number and strange variety of these self-contained colonies in this part of the world is scarcely realised. They are, of course, totally distinct from the ordinary, scattered immigrant dwellers. When surveyed _en masse_ the result is not a little extraordinary. In the three Spanish-speaking republics of Argentina, Uruguay, and Paraguay that, together with Southern Bolivia, formed the old River Plate provinces, exist distinct and important settlements of Swiss, Austrians, Poles, Australians, Welsh, Boers, and Jews, besides numerous lesser groups of many nationalities beyond. Within the frontiers of each perfect liberty obtains to continue existence as it is led in the country from which the immigrants came, and thus each is provided with its own churches and institutions. In the case of the more recently founded it is almost as though a portion of the foreign land had been translated bodily to South American soil, while those of older standing have invariably yielded more or less to the influence of their surroundings. But the choice of remaining entirely aloof, or of assimilating the customs that prevail outside their own frontiers lies entirely in the hands of the immigrant communities. It is, of course, only natural that each section should carry on that particular branch of industry to which it has been accustomed in its country of origin. The Colonia Suiza constitutes an important body, containing, as it does, no less than four thousand inhabitants. Here it is not surprising that the staple industry should be that of cheese manufacture and dairy produce. In addition to this a fair amount of agriculture is carried on. The soil of the district is well adapted to linseed, and numerous vineyards are responsible for the production of a local wine of very fair quality. Consisting for the most part of small dairy farms, no regular township exists in the colony, although a small village has sprung into being in the neighbourhood of the railway station, and three hotels are distributed at wide intervals across the area occupied. The community, first established in 1862 by the arrival of seven Swiss families, is flourishing, and its members have clung to their national habits with more tenacity than is usual. The largest and most important butter factory in the place produces in the springtime a daily quantity of no less than a ton of butter. Its proprietor, ere he emigrated, played the rôle of a small shopkeeper in his own country. His house was burned to the ground, but, fortunately for himself, the property was insured. He employed the money derived from this source for the purpose of the voyage to South America, and, arrived at the Colonia Suiza, he found employment in the carrying round of the milk. In a very short while he was employing others to perform this service for himself, and is now a wealthy man, thus affording one more example of those rapid rises from poverty to riches that are so characteristic of South America. The general aspects of this colony are peculiarly agreeable. Situated in one of the most pleasant districts of a smiling land, it is well watered and timbered. The verdure of the place, moreover, is enhanced by the numerous green lanes that intersect it. Indeed, no more delightful situation could be imagined than that occupied by many of the châlets of Swiss design. CHAPTER XVIII COLONIA An historical town--Rarity of ruins in the River Plate countries--Specimens at Colonia--Situation of the town--Past antagonism between the capitals of Argentina and Uruguay--Present aspect of Colonia compared with the former--A sleepy hollow--Periodical awakenings of the place--Impressions of the old town--Its colouring and compactness--Fortifications of the city of discord--A warlike history--Nations that have warred together at this spot--The reddest corner in a bloodstained land--Surroundings of the town--Crumbling masonry--A medley of old and new--A Colonia street--Old-time scenes of peace and war--Some pictures of the past--Cannon as road posts--The Plaza--An episode in the wars with Portugal--The eternity of romance--Real de San Carlo--A modern watering-place--Its buildings--The bullring--A gigantic pelota-court--Popularity of the spot--A miniature tramway--Attractions of Real de San Carlo--Vegetation on the sands--A curious colour scheme--Pleasant lanes--Buenos Aires as a supplier of tourists. The small town of Colonia stands quite alone in many respects. Not as regards situation, climate, and a reputation as a pleasure resort. In all these three the spot is especially favoured; yet in each of these it possesses a number of formidable rivals along the Uruguayan coast. Excursionists flock to Colonia, it is true, but such flighty nomads are more concerned with beaches and bathing than with the subtler and deeper interests of the spot. To the historian and to the antiquarian Colonia represents a gem. It must be admitted that the values of such treasures go strictly by comparison. Uruguay is rich in the amethyst and topaz, but poor in architectural ruins. Indeed, these romantic features are distressingly--or pleasingly--rare throughout all the lands that made up the provinces of the old River Plate. So far as I am aware, almost the sole examples of any real antiquity are to be met with in the Jesuit ruins of Paraguay and the Misiones Province, and in the few fragmentary Inca relics upon the Andes slopes. Beyond these there is Colonia. Therefore if the gem lack the full brilliance of some of the specimens that an older continent can produce, its importance must not be under-estimated, since it possesses the rare merit of being all but unique in its own country. From the Uruguayan bank of the great river Colonia faces Buenos Aires. The one is not visible from the other, since almost forty miles separate the two cities--a distance that has frequently been found too short for the peace of mind of both. For, although they now sit on their respective banks in undisturbed peace, the past has only too many instances to show of how the pair opposed each other with an active hostility that worked its share in the building up of the warlike history of Colonia. The present fate of Colonia is much akin to that of many of those spots that serve as the decayed shells of old-time battles and terrific alarums. In short, it is a sleepy hollow. There are certainly times when a large river steamer comes to rest for a while against its wooden jetty, and disgorges a crowd of tourists who wander aimlessly about the quaint streets. But such spells are short, since the interests of the spot can compare in the minds of very few of such visitors with the great bullring and pelota-court, recently erected some half-dozen miles up-stream, to which they are on their way. Thus the place has barely time to shake its old walls, and yawn with its blank windows, wondering at this sudden new life that has sprung up within it, when the spasm has passed away, and Colonia sinks back from its semi-conscious state into full slumber again. The first impressions of the old town, when viewed from the river, present a rather strange medley of brown, yellow, grey, white, pink, and green. Thrown together as abruptly as this, the colour scheme doubtless sounds perplexing. Yet in reality the tints blend with consummate harmony. The brown is rendered by the rocks that hem in the little bays and inlets of the foreground, while the lichen that clings to the stone accounts for a strangely brilliant yellow. The grey is produced by the most important asset of the town, the ruined walls and battlements of the fortifications that pile themselves sullenly upon the rocks along the river bank, penetrating the waters at many points. The pink and white gleam very softly from the more modern houses in the background that mingle with the old, crumbling erections of grey, while at close intervals the verdure of trees and shrubs sprouts out thickly from amongst the masonry. To conclude with all this colour, so far as possible at one fell swoop, the town is dominated by a brilliant white lighthouse shaft and the twin red towers of a modern church. Undoubtedly one of the most curious effects for which Colonia is responsible is that of its compactness. There is scarcely a town in Uruguay, or in Argentina either, whose outskirts do not straggle far away from the centre into the Campo. To one who has inevitably become accustomed to these architectural loose-ends the accurately defined boundaries of the riverside town are not a little striking. The reason is a very simple one. In the old days the city of discord was completely surrounded by fortifications and, since it has performed the feat--almost unique in the country--of failing to grow in extent since that time, its original abrupt boundaries have remained. The result, from an artistic point of view, is undoubtedly far more imposing than that produced by the stress of modern development. Colonia is not a town to be skimmed over lightly. It is worthy of almost as careful a reconnoitring as it has frequently suffered in the past. For the place can boast of half a dozen regular sieges, and pitched battles, sallies, and skirmishes galore. Indians and Spaniards, Spaniards and Portuguese, Uruguayans and Spaniards, Uruguayans and Portuguese--all these have fought together here on countless occasions, and yet the list of the warring companies is not ended. The red ponchos of Urquiza's Gauchos have charged up to the grey walls, staining the brown earth crimson as they went; buccaneers of all nations have come and gone, and the scarlet of a British garrison has gleamed out against the background of stone. Colonia is the reddest spot of all in a sadly bloodstained land. But, however much the aftermath of battles may brood, the aspect of the place is as fair as could be desired. Just opposite its site are the first green islands of the river, the oceanward outposts of the lengthy series that rest in the midst of the waters upstream. This shore of the mainland itself is picturesque in another fashion. Bright semicircles and crescents of sand fringe the rocks of the innumerable small bays. Upon the natural boulders, and ledges, and heaps of masonry above are clusters of green leaves starred with blossoms. Here and there a growth of more artificial kind is spread upon the stone; for the sole figures upon the foreshore are those of two washerwomen, busily engaged amongst the pools, whose variegated harvest is increasing in area as it is spread out to dry. [Illustration: COLONIA: RUINED FORTRESS WALL.] [Illustration: A CAMPO GRAVEYARD. To face page 218.] In places the surface of the old masonry is level and wide; in others it is necessary to leap from point to point just as it is in the case of the rocks below. Scrambling and walking thus for several hundred yards, the way lies past a collection of ruined houses, the massive walls of which prick upwards in gaunt desolation. Beyond these again is a narrow passage, paved principally by the chance falling of the masonry, that leads into one of the actual streets of the town. The medley here is fascinating from the mere force of its quaintness. The first houses that flank the slender thoroughfare as it winds its way uphill are a few pink erections, fairly modern, with windows plainly barred, and open doorways, through which is visible the foliage that decorates the patio within. Side by side with these is a building of quite another type, an old grey house, stately and imposing, though now little beyond a shell of ruins. Its front is thickly set with the remnants of graceful balconies, and with broken shields and coats of arms. Upon the massive doorway is an ancient bronze knocker in the form of a human hand. But the hapless instrument has been silent now for many a generation, since at the back of the doorway itself is nothing beyond a confusion of tumbled stone into whose crevices the roots of the intruding shrubs and flowers have pressed themselves. The street is quite deserted; the temptation to raise the bronze hand and bang out the echoes is almost irresistible. It is certain that one could arouse nothing beyond the ghosts of the past. Yet the answer to such an appeal might prove a little too intense for the modern tranquillity of mind. Confined to the days of peace, the vision would be well enough. The house, the walls, the patio, the fretwork of the balconies, the carving of the coats of arms--all these would be intact and hung about with humanity. In obedience to the most commonplace demands of the all-pervading romance, breeched men, whose long-draped cloaks hid the lace and buckles of their costume, would send out their voices and the tinklings of their guitars towards the señoritas, whose soft eyes glowed beneath a tremendous headgear, and who wore their filmy wrappings and short skirts with true Iberian grace. Within the courtyard the negro slaves would lounge at their ease, while near them would repose the great guardian dogs of the house. Now and again would sound a heavy rumble from the street without that signified the advent of visitors in a cumbrous coach of state--an interruption that would still the notes of voice and guitar string, and that would excite the negro attendants into sudden life and the dogs into a delirium of barking. After which many grave bows and deep curtseyings would prelude the quiet ceremony of entertainment. But if instead of this peaceful scene the wrong half of the past were to appear! For there were times when the heavy booming and uproar drew ever nearer from without, and then the faces of the señoritas as they peered through the elaborate bars were ashy pale. There were moments, too, when the last doubts had turned to a bitter certainty, when the forms of fleeing men passed the house, and those of others, who stayed, reddened the ground before the door. And last of all!--the apparition of the strange men in hostile garb, the lust of slaughter in their eyes as they rushed on, making another place of the once familiar street. Thirsting for blood, hungry for booty, and for all things beyond--the cheeks of the shuddering señoritas have not paled without reason. After all, perhaps it is better to leave undisturbed the knocker upon the old door. Such mental apparitions, moreover, could be multiplied indefinitely, for there are a dozen houses of similar design, if of varied ruinous importance, in the town. Indeed, the place breathes strongly of the past. At a street corner here and there is an ancient cannon, buried muzzle upwards into the ground, that serves to fend off from the sidewalk such wheeled traffic as exists. After a while the narrow street falls away, and the wide sweep of the plaza extends to the front. The place was once the site of a rather peculiar feat of frontier delimitation. The occasion was that of one of the numerous cessions by treaty to Portugal of the town that the Spaniards were wont to win by force of arms. On receiving the order from the Court of Spain to evacuate the province in favour of the temporarily reconciled enemy the staunch old Spanish Governor lost patience. The town, he knew full well, he must surrender, but he refused to give up more even at the command of his royal master. So he raised the muzzle of a cannon in the plaza, fired a shot to right and left, and told the Portuguese that the land within the range of the balls was theirs, but no more. And with this they had to be content. There are now no cannon in the plaza, where, indeed, the wild shrubs and grasses alone thrive. Passing across it, the river is approached again, for Colonia covers a small promontory. Ere reaching the water on the farther side, however, it is necessary to pass by far the most imposing ruin in the place. By the side of the white lighthouse tower a tall fragment of grey fortress wall rears itself aloft. Some four feet thick throughout, its crumbling embrasures are strongly lit up by the blue sky behind. From this point the ground slopes abruptly downwards towards the shore. Here are more rocks, more mounds of ruined masonry, more washerwomen--and the forms of a girl and of a man seated apart from the rest upon the stones. The girl is flaming in all the pride of red skirt and kerchief and yellow blouse. For all I know the latter garment may not technically be admissible within the strict category of blouses, but, failing a more intimate knowledge, it must pass as something similar! By comparison with the very brilliant butterfly, the man looms a dusky moth, whose only glitter lies in the great, round, silver spurs that protrude from his high heels. Yet the business of the pair is the same as ever! Though wrought out more frequently when Colonia really lived, it obtains still amongst the ruins. It is comforting to reflect that even the most simple of these rural chains of the affections continues with links far less unbroken than those of war! Some three miles distant from Colonia, and situated likewise upon the banks of the river, is Real de San Carlo. Although such close neighbours, it would be difficult to find two spots that differed more widely from each other. Real de San Carlo is a mushroom of a place that has only known existence for some two or three years. Since it is planned as a pleasure resort pure and simple, the nature of Real de San Carlo is to a certain extent artificial, and the brand-new buildings have yet to be toned down by the softening process of age. So far the new bathing-place is deficient in the private dwelling-houses and châlets that characterise the majority of such spots. On the arrival of the steamer at the imposing pier, the eye is arrested at once by the sight of two very large buildings, and by that of one of a more moderate size. Beyond these there is little in the way of architectural development, with the insignificant exception of the cottages that house the labourers upon the place. [Illustration: THE BULL RING. To face p. 222.] Of the two great buildings the bullring is the more notable. Indeed, the enormous circular erection of white concrete is visible for a distance of many miles in all directions. One side of the ground beneath, sheltered by the rising spread of tiers that hold the seats, is occupied by an open-air café, while the appointments within are of the usual order to be met with in bullrings. It is here that the periodical bullfights are held, and it is here, moreover, that many of the noted Spanish fighters perform. In the neighbourhood of the bullring is the pelota-court, which is only just now being completed, in which the famous Basque game is to be played. This is likewise constructed of white concrete, and, although its magnitude cannot rival that of the bullring, it is of an amazing size for a building of the kind, holding galleries above, as it does, that must be capable of seating several thousand spectators. Compared with these two tremendous affairs, the hotel is of modest dimensions and of unpretentious appearance. Nevertheless, were it to stand apart from such overwhelming neighbours, it would doubtless appear imposing enough. Real de San Carlo is well equipped to cope with the crowds of visitors that the steamers already bring to its shore; it does things, in fact, in a certain elaborate style of its own. A narrow-gauge steam tramway runs between the jetty and the bullring, although the distance does not exceed a quarter of a mile, and behind the miniature engine a number of cars are in waiting, each containing a row of seats facing outwards on either side. At the moment of the visit the bull-fighting itself is undergoing a temporary lull--a fact that, from one's own point of view, is very little to be regretted. So the tramcars, crowded now, roll merrily onwards to a ring devoid of espadas, bulls, horses, and blood, and for the majority of the tourists the chief business of the day is confined to the precincts of the café in the shade of the great building. Apart from these more artificial attractions, Real de San Carlo will undoubtedly prove popular as a bathing resort. The fine white sands and rippling waters here possess an invaluable auxiliary in the delightful air with which the place is blessed. In this springtime of the year, moreover, the sands themselves are decorated in rather an unusual fashion. From them sprout masses of silver-white, thick, silky leaves, and stems that support blossoms that exactly resemble small sunflowers. The effect that the great stretches of these present is distinctly striking. Thickly spangling the white sand is a silver glow, topped by the yellow of the blossoms above--a colour scheme that gives a strangely fairylike and unreal impression. As though to lend a touch of warmer colour, thousands of butterflies, all of a variety of the painted-lady species, are hovering in clouds about the blossoms. Just inland, where the undulations of the real country begin, the lanes are ablaze with passionflower and honeysuckle--but the steamer is whistling impatiently in the distance, and the tourists are flocking back to the tramcars. It is time to return, and to mingle with the crowd once more, the great majority of which are returning to Buenos Aires. For it is on the inhabitants of this city, within a couple of hours' steam across the river, that Real de San Carlo depends for its popularity, and consequent welfare. CHAPTER XIX THE URUGUAY RIVER A great waterway--The river compared with the Paraná--Some questions of navigation--The lower stretch of the Uruguay--The stream from Montevideo upwards--Montevideo--The docks--An imposing array of Mihanovich craft--Breadth of the river--Aspects of the banks--Various types of vessels--The materials of their cargoes--The meeting of sister steamers--The etiquette of salutations--Fray Bentos--The Lemco factory and port--A notable spot--The paradise of the eater--The islands of Uruguay--Method of their birth and growth--The responsibility of leaves and branches--Uncertainty of island life--The effects of flood and current--Sub-tropical bergs--The vehicles of wild creatures--A jaguar visitation in Montevideo--Narrowing of the stream--Paysandú--The home of ox-tongues--The second commercial town of the Republic--Some features of the place--Variety of the landscape--The _Mesa de Artigas_--An historical table-land--A monument to the national hero--Salto--A striking town--Pleasant landscape--The Salto falls--The ending of the lower Uruguay--A rocky bed--Some minerals of Salto--Alteration in the colour of the water--The beauty of the upper Uruguay. As a waterway the Uruguay River is of infinite service to the Republic whose western coastline it serves. It is true that, compared with the Paraná, the stream suffers somewhat both as regards length and navigable facilities. Both rivers have much in common, in that either has its source in the mountain ranges that fringe the coast of Brazil, and either flows first to the west, then southwards until the junction of the pair forms the broad River Plate. But, whereas the Paraná rises in latitude 22° south the first waters of the Uruguay do not come into being until 28° south. The latter, in consequence, has to content itself with a course of a thousand miles, rather less than half the length of its neighbour. The lower stretch of the Uruguay holds an obstacle to navigation that is unknown in the corresponding waters of the Paraná. At Salto, some two hundred miles above the mouth, falls extend from the one bank to the other, and thus bar the passage of all vessels. Above this place, however, is the starting-point for the lighter draught steamers that continue their northward course for many hundreds of miles. As though to compensate for the barrier, the first two hundred miles of the Uruguay represent a particularly noble highway of waters, far broader and more imposing, indeed, than the equivalent stretch of the Paraná. Ocean-going vessels here penetrate to Paysandú, and beyond it to the Lemco port of Colón on the Argentine shore, while the really magnificent steamers of the River King, Mihanovich, produce their finest specimens to ply to and fro here. But, as the banks of the stream contain not only some of the most fertile lands in the Republic but much of interest beyond, it is worth while to follow its course, beginning at Montevideo itself, which, as a matter of fact, is somewhat to anticipate the waters of the true Uruguay. By the quayside of the capital are grouped three or four of the Mihanovich craft, large, two-funnelled vessels with an imposing array of decks surmounted by an unusually spacious promenade that crowns the whole. One of these is bound for Salto--or rather for the Argentine town of Concordia that lies opposite that port--but just now it is not advisable to be tied hard and fast to her broad decks, since she must call at Buenos Aires on her way, and at many other spots outside Uruguay and the scope of this book. We will therefore perform the strange feat of making a break in the trip ere it is begun. In any case it is necessary to leave the quay over whose broad, paved surface of reclaimed land the cabs are rattling, and where the policeman and porters stand, and where, moreover, a strong group of Salvationists are singing lustily, surrounded by a motley but attentive group such as the precincts of a port attract. But the graceful _Triton_ shall churn her way out into the open without us, since we will cling so far as possible to the Uruguayan shore, forging upwards through the yellowing waters, to halt at Sauce with its willow-covered lands and Colonia with its rocky beach, until Carmelo is passed, and at Nueva Palmira the River Uruguay has been fairly entered. Even then, however, it is necessary to accept the fact more or less on trust, and to confide in the accuracy of the map rather than in that of the eyesight. For the faint line that has recently appeared on the horizon to the left might as well stand for a distant streak upon the waters as for the low-lying Argentine shore that it actually represents. To the right, the Uruguayan bank is well defined. Here the undulations of the land swell boldly out from the edge of the river, while in many places rocks and boulders strew the sloping foreshore as though to accentuate the frontier between stream and land that is so faintly defined upon the opposite coast. Here and there the verdure of the hills is broken by the darker green bands of the eucalyptus plantations, through which from time to time gleam the white walls of an estancia-house. At intervals the chimneys of a saladero prick upwards from the nearer neighbourhood of the bank. About these centres of their doom the speck-like figures of the cattle dot the surrounding pastures, grazing in fortunate ignorance of their end. The traffic upon the river itself is by no means inconsiderable. Native topsail schooners laden with jerked beef, fruit, and timber come gliding serenely down the stream beneath their spread of sail. One of these craft is especially indicative of the main industry of the land. The vessel is laden as high as the booms will permit with horns of cattle, the bleaching mounds of which must represent the sacrifice of many thousands of animals. There are smart Government tugs, too, that hold the official guardians of the mighty stream, and great dredgers of queer and monstrous shape that steam slowly along to find an anchorage where the bottom is shallow, and there remorselessly to bite out mouthfuls from the unduly lofty bed. At rarer intervals appear the ocean-going craft and sailing vessels. It would be safe to wager that there is not one of those passing down-stream that is not laden with some portions or other of the bodies bequeathed to humanity by the unconsulted yet generous bovine souls. Nevertheless the exact species of cargo would be more difficult to predict. It might be beef itself, or hides that will make leather upon which to sit while consuming the meat, or horns which will provide handles for the necessary complement of knives, or indeed many other products useful for similar purposes. There never was such a creature as the ox for the provision of a variety of articles that all eloquently urge the benefit of his death! A tall and majestic structure has come into sight from round a bend in the stream now, and is sweeping rapidly downwards. With grey hull, white upper-works about her rows of decks, and twin black funnels to cap the whole, she is one of the proud fleet of steamers that ply throughout the entire system of the great rivers. If the vessel upon which you may be found bears a corresponding =M= upon its funnel--which in the case of a passenger craft may be taken as a practical certainty--you may be assured that you will not be passed without recognition, even if sheltered by a mere paltry stern-wheeler that is bound for one of the small tributary streams. Combining affability with size, the whale will blow out three deep roars of salute from its great horn, that will be echoed by a like number of shrill notes from the treble whistle of the minnow. Such is the etiquette throughout the entire length of the rivers. The six blows are sounding throughout the day from the tropics of Brazil downwards to where the La Plata and the ocean meet. Upon the right-hand side Fray Bentos has come into view, marked in the first place by a great collection of tall black chimneys glistening in the sun. Beneath is verdure, and massive white buildings, and streets of dwelling-houses, while to the front is the Lemco port with a small forest of masts rising from its waters. The place, in a double sense, represents the very incarnation of Uruguay's trade. A greedy spot that swallows live cattle by tens of thousands to render them up again in the pathetically diminished form of extract! Even now the odour of soup floats heavily in the air from across a mile of water--a proof that Fray Bentos is busily occupied in turning out its brown rivers of fluid. The factory, the most notable in the country, is indeed strongly symbolical of the land where starvation in ordinary circumstances of peace has never yet been known. Havana may be the paradise of the smoker, Epernay that of the champagne lover; but the eater's heaven is undoubtedly situated in Uruguay, a paradise in which the spirits of departed and honest butchers might well revel in perfect joy. Just above Fray Bentos the islands dot the river more plentifully than in almost any other part of the great stream. As is the case on the Paraná, it is difficult enough at times to distinguish between these and the true bank on the Argentine shore; both are equally lowly and each covered with the same density of willows and native scrub. Amongst these larger islands, however, whose surface may comprise several square miles, are numerous smaller pieces of land, and some quite diminutive specimens that can lay claim to no more than a few yards of area. These are baby islands--young territories that have only just succeeded in raising their heads above water. For an island here is conceived, grows, and dies in a fashion that is vegetable rather than purely earthy. The fact is not really curious, seeing that vegetation is directly concerned in their birth. The conception of one of these is evident even now. A tangle of the thick leaves of the camelota--the water plant with its mauve hyacinth-like flower--has in its downward floating course fouled the earth of a shallow in mid-stream. The arrested clump of green has already inveigled other objects to keep it company in its trap. A few sticks and branches and tufts of grass are already fast in the embrace of the powerful stems and green leaves, while at the end that faces the stream the water-driven sand has risen at the obstacle, and has shyly protruded a small round hump or two above the ripples. The life of the thing is as uncertain as that of a seedling or of a human child. Under favourable conditions it will grow and solidify year by year until from the few leaves and sticks will have extended some square miles of tree-covered soil. On the other hand, it may be swept remorselessly away in its earliest days ere the tentative formation has had time to secure sufficiently firm hold of the earth. [Illustration: ON THE URUGUAY RIVER.] [Illustration: A URUGUAYAN STREAM. To face p. 230.] In any case the life of these islands is comparatively short, and fresh floods and currents are forming some and destroying others all the while. During these periods of flood many of them would seem possessed of the characteristics of icebergs. Detached by the irresistible force of the currents, great fragments of the vegetation and camelota plant that cling to their sides go swirling down the stream. Though they can boast no polar bears, they are occasionally freighted with other beasts whose neighbourhood is equally undesirable. On such occasions snakes and many four-footed specimens of northern creatures form the unwilling tenants of these frail rafts of vegetation. It is said that many years ago one of unusually large size struck the shore of Montevideo itself, disgorging four jaguars, who entered the town as much to their own terror as to that of the inhabitants. With Fray Bentos once left in the rear, the river becomes distinctly narrowed, and, where no islands intervene, the features of either bank begin to be clearly distinguished at the same time. The Argentine shore has broken away from its dead level now, and is rising in gentle undulations; the Uruguayan coast, too, as though in a determined endeavour to retain its physical superiority, has taken to heap itself in far loftier and more imposing hills than before. The next town of importance at which the steamer halts is that of Paysandú, the great centre of ox-tongues. Indeed, were one to adopt the popular figurative methods of certain magazines, amazing results might well be extracted from the commerce of the place. Thus, supposing a year's accumulation of Paysandú ox-tongues were able jointly to give forth the notes that they were wont to render in life, the effect of the combined roar would probably be to deafen the entire populace of the Republic, and to blow every atom of water from the river! The number of men they would feed, and the distance they would cover if extended in a line I do not know; but it may be taken for granted that the export of these preserved instruments of bovine speech is very considerable. Paysandú ranks as the second commercial city in the Republic. It is true that, so far as size is concerned, it is altogether dwarfed by Montevideo, since the inhabitants of the smaller town number only twenty thousand or so. Yet, the centre of a rich pastoral and agricultural province, the place is of no little commercial importance, and, although its architecture remains largely of the pleasant but old-fashioned Spanish style, not a few new buildings and boulevards have already sprung into existence. Like the majority of towns of its kind, it is well equipped with electric lighting, telephones, and other such modern appliances, although its tramcar traction is still effected by the humbler methods of the horse. To the north of Paysandú the stream narrows, the islands become few and far between, and the course of the river is distinct and well-defined. The landscape, too, is more varied now than that of the lower reaches. Among the Uruguayan rounded hills a few well-marked tablelands spread their broad, level surfaces in the way that is characteristic of so many parts of the Republic. Both the inland valleys and river banks are covered with an added density of vegetation, while beaches of shining white sand jut out at intervals from the shore. As for the Argentine bank, it has quite suddenly assumed a marked individuality of its own. It is covered with a reddish yellow rolling soil, tinged only lightly with green, from which close groves of palm-trees sprout upwards for mile after mile. It is as though a portion of Africa on the one shore were facing a rather wooded and broken portion of the South Downs on the other! The water itself has been growing more limpid all the while, now that the dead-flat, soft, alluvial soil of the Argentine bank has given way to a harder and more stony surface. It has become shallow in parts, too, and the nose of the steamer often gives a tentative turn to the right or left as she cautiously feels her way. The craft has penetrated almost to the limits of the lower stretch of the great river now, and the rising bed is a premonitory symptom of the end. On the right has now risen the loftiest bluff that has yet marked the Uruguayan shore. It forms one of the walls of a striking and bold table-land. The place is now known as the _Mesa de Artigas_--the table of Artigas. It was upon the summit of this hill that the Uruguayan national hero had his chief encampment, and it has been described as a desolate and lonely spot, haunted by murdered spirits and by the memory of horrors, that no living being cared to approach. The description cannot be said to hold good at the present moment. The green slopes are dotted with grazing cattle and sheep, while at one point the distant figures of two mounted Gauchos are careering to and fro, and the cattle in the neighbourhood are wheeling together and lumbering forward as a result of their manoeuvres. On the summit of the tableland is a peculiarly tall stone pedestal that rises from a great pyramidal base to soar high upwards against the sky-line. The shaft is surmounted by a bust that represents Artigas himself. The entire structure is on the colossal side, and the effect of the bust poised on high against the blue of the air is curious rather than effective. Viewing it from far below, it is difficult to avoid the impression that the head and shoulders, placed half-way between earth and heaven, are pleading with mute eloquence for a body and legs with which to grasp more firmly the summit of the sustaining shaft. In any case the monument is bold, and affords a strikingly conspicuous landmark for an area of many leagues. To the north of the Mesa de Artigas the landscape of the river continues bold and hilly. A score or so of miles up-stream from the monument lies the town of Salto, the last place of real importance upon this stretch of the Uruguayan frontier. With its buildings rising to cover the hills of its site, the panorama of Salto is more imposing in its way than that of any other town on the banks of the stream. Indeed, piled on the summit of cliffs and bluffs, the white masses of masonry, crowned by a few steeples and towers, are visible from far inland upon the Argentine territory as well as from the remoter neighbourhoods of its own soil. The river just here is exceptionally populous, since facing Salto from across the waters is Concordia, a large and thriving Argentine town. The population of Salto is slightly in excess of twenty thousand, and, like every other town along the length of the stream, it serves as a storehouse for the pastoral and agricultural industries of the district. In many respects, however, the situation of the town gives it a commercial scope greater than that of the more southern towns. Although the climate lacks sufficient heat for the production of the banana and similar sub-tropical growths, the variety of fruit is very great. The orange flourishes in exceptional abundance here, and its cultivation forms a valuable addition to the wealth of the district. [Illustration: CATTLE ON THE ROAD.] [Illustration: A CORNER OF THE FRAY BENTOS FACTORY. To face p. 234.] Pleasantly situated, with shaded plazas and avenues, and with the orchards, vineyards, orange-groves, and well-timbered country of its outskirts, Salto lies at the end--or, to be more accurate, the beginning--of the lower Uruguay. Just above the town a white foaming line stretches from bank to bank during the periods when the river is low. But these lower falls are navigable during a considerable portion of the year, and not until Salto Grande, at a point considerably higher up, is the permanent barrier to navigation reached. Between Salto itself and Concordia the river is plentifully strewn with rocks, and, although the channels are deep, it is necessary on this head for vessels to use considerable caution, more especially as the tide races fiercely just here. Indeed, the fluctuations of the stream at this point are very great, and account for the tremendously lofty wooden passenger pier that serves the town. It is in the neighbourhood of Salto that is found the curious water stone that is referred to elsewhere in this book. It is in this province too that exist the topaz and amethyst mines. The visitor, however, need not trouble his head to start out upon any expedition with the object of picking up any of these curiosities. The topaz and amethyst fields are well-defined private property, while the water-stone is as shy and elusive as a four-leaved clover at home. If in quest of these objects, it is wiser to restrict the field of adventure to the Salto shops. It has been noticeable all the time whilst ascending the river that the water has steadily become less tinged with yellow. Above the falls, however, the distinction is far more marked. The stream here is peculiarly limpid, and the effect at a northern spot such as Santa Rosa, almost on the Brazilian frontier, is entrancing. Here the river is at times of a brilliant blue tint--a broad azure ribbon winding between swelling banks covered now with dense folds of vegetation. Viewed from the rising ground in the neighbourhood, the conviction is inevitable that, although the northern waters may have lost a little in commercial importance, the Upper Uruguay can lay claim to a degree of beauty with which the lower reaches, for all their charm, cannot compete. CHAPTER XX THE URUGUAYAN CAMPO Formation of the land--A survey of the country--Features of the soil--Types of wild flowers--A land of hill, valley, and stream--The glamour of the distance--"The purple land"--Breezes of the Campo--An exhilarating country--The dearth of homesteads--The Uruguayan Gaucho--His physique--The product of the blowy uplands--Matters of temperament--His comparative joviality--The Gaucho as worker, player, and fighter--The manipulation of feuds--A comparison between Argentina and Uruguay--Warrior ancestors of the Gaucho--His sense of dignity and honour--Conservative habits and customs--Costume and horse gear--Strenuous _bailes_--Some homeric feats of dancing--Stirring revelry--The Uruguayan land-owner--Foreign elements in the land--Negro inhabitants of the Banda Oriental--The numerical status of the Africans in the north and in the south--Absence of a racial question--The slavery of former days--The employment of black troops in war--Lenient treatment of negro slaves--Harsh measures applied to aboriginal Indians--A lesson in human economy--Testimony of a contemporary writer--Immigrant colonies. The Uruguayan Campo is not to be described without a certain amount of hesitation. It would be simple enough for one who had caught only a distant passing glimpse of the land of the pastures to put down the country without further ado as rolling grass upland watered by many streams. That such is the foundation of the Campo is undeniable. Nevertheless to begin and end with such a phrase would be equivalent to a description of the peacock as a bird who wears coloured feathers. The subtle charms of the Uruguayan Campo are not to be discerned through the medium of the bioscope-like glimpses that so many travellers obtain of it. Very rightly, it refuses to reveal itself fully until a certain amount of familiarity has justified a nearer acquaintance. From an æsthetic point of view it certainly holds far more than might be expected from a country of such comparatively limited attributes. If you desire to watch the moods of this rural Banda Oriental, ride out to mount one of the higher shoulders of the downland, and wait there, either in the saddle or out of it. You will obtain little sympathy in the task. Eccentric to the mind of the estancieros, frankly mad in the eagle eyes of the Gaucho--a calm survey of the Campo is worth all such merely human depreciation! The aspect of the country in the immediate neighbourhood of where the observer has taken his stand will be green in the main, although the unbroken verdure by no means obtains throughout. Here and there the ground is strongly marked by the occasional heaps of stones that come jostling to the surface, and that recline in the fashion of small bleak islands in the midst of the green waves. But, should the time be spring, these latter are themselves flecked frequently almost to the extinction of their own colouring. The great purple bands and patches of the _flor morala_ lie thickly upon the land. These, however, stand apart, since where they glow the serried ranks of blossom permit no others to raise their heads. [Illustration: A PASTORAL SCENE. To face p. 238.] But these, though the boldest of their kind, are by no means the sole occupants of the landscape. Indeed, one of the chief characteristics of the Banda Oriental Campo is the wealth of beautiful and comparatively lowly plants that grow amidst the grasses. They are of the type of English blossoms, peering out shyly from between the green blades, blowing purely and sweetly in their innocence of the heavy sickliness of the tropics. It is where the ground is chiefly dotted with these fresh flowers that the smile of the Campo is most brilliant. So much for the immediate surroundings up to the point where the more intricate markings become merged in the broader tints of the landscape. Down in the hollows are bands of dark, close green formed by the trees that shade the streams. With scarcely a break in the narrow walls of verdure they run from valley to valley, accurately defining the banks of the small rivers whose waters they conceal. Within these leafy lanes lurk the only spots upon the Campo, save for the rare woodland, that do not stare frankly upwards, exposing all their earthly soul to the blue sky. Away in the far distance there is a magic glamour. There the lands are no longer green to the eye. The soft waves, as they rise and dip in an accumulation of folds towards the final horizon line, are bathed in warm purple. The Banda Oriental has been called "the purple land" by one who knew it well, and never was a name better applied. Without the foreground--that is itself strongly purpled by the banks of the _flor morula_--all is purple and mystic. The land has its ordinary mirages as well; but here is one that at all times confronts the traveller--that wonderful land of the horizon that, unattainable, dies farther away as it is approached. Yet, notwithstanding its soft romance, the place is essentially alive. It is a blowy haunt of clean fresh airs that sweep the slopes and open valleys to billow the grass tops and to refresh mankind. It is amidst such surroundings that the Oriental of the country dwells. His type is not very numerous, it is true, and--although the dearth of houses suits the landscape itself most admirably--the scarcity of habitation is a little lamentable in so wealthy and pleasant a land. It is practically certain, as a matter of fact, that the pastures will bear more roots in the near future than they have ever known in the past; but in the meanwhile it is necessary to take them as they are, and their inhabitants as well. Of these inhabitants the true _paisano_, the Gaucho, decidedly claims the chief share of attention. The Gaucho of the Banda Oriental is not to be confused with his brethren of the neighbouring countries. In appearance he presents perhaps the finest specimen amongst the various kindred families of his race. He is taller in stature, and, if possible, even more athletic in his lithe frame than his neighbour. His complexion, moreover, though frequently dusky and invariably tanned, is peculiarly wholesome and fresh. It was inevitable that the blowy downlands should have produced a fitting and appropriate breed of amazingly healthy, hardy, and fearless men to whom the art of horsemanship has become second nature, while the occasional enforced spells of pedestrianism have degenerated into a mere unwelcome accident of life. The temperament of the Uruguayan Gaucho shows corresponding distinction from that of the rest. It goes without saying that he is strongly imbued with the grim dignity of the race. Silent austerity here, however, is modified by lighter traits. In the same way as the higher social member of his country, he is more easily moved to laughter than his neighbours, and indulges from time to time in frank outbursts of joviality. For practical purposes it is necessary to regard this child of the Campo from three standpoints--from that of the worker, the player, and the fighter. It is rare enough that one of them is not called upon to fill all these three rôles on a good many occasions during his lifetime. As stock-rider, he has proved his courage, fidelity, and honesty of purpose to the full; his moments of recreation are taken up by equestrian sports, guitar-playing, and chance affairs of the heart, whilst in warfare he has had only too many opportunities of displaying his reckless brilliancy--frequently, it must be admitted, at the cost of discipline and order. In his private quarrels the Argentine Gaucho will bottle up his wrath until his overflowing passion culminates without warning in the rapid knife thrust or revolver shot. The conclusion of a serious dispute between his Uruguayan brethren will almost certainly be the same; but the tragic climax will be approached in quite another fashion. The atmospheric effervescence of the Banda Oriental will enter into the case. There will be shouting, vociferation, and not a little abuse. Not until a fair exchange of all this has been bandied to and fro will come the flash of steel or flame--and the red stain upon the grasses of the Campo. That these dwellers upon the downlands should prove themselves born fighters is no matter for surprise. For the dusky side of their ancestry they claim the Charrúa Indians, the fiercest and most warlike of all the tribes in the neighbouring provinces. With this strain added to the blood of the old Spaniards, and the mixture fostered and nourished by the breezy hills, the result has been a being whose keen sense of dignity and honour were ever in the very active custody of knife or lance. As is perhaps natural enough in a land whose interests--as compared with the agricultural development of the neighbouring countries--are almost purely pastoral, the habits and customs of the Oriental have remained unusually conservative. His poncho is a veritable poncho, often of a bizarre and daring hue; his spurs are weapons that glitter in huge circles at his heels, while his horse furniture is frequently silvered to the very last degree. When the Gaucho undertakes a dance--a _baile_--moreover, he enters into the performance with a zest that puts to shame the human products of a later civilisation. In order to witness one of the most homeric of these exhibitions it is necessary to suppose the revellers in the peculiarly reckless and irresponsible mood that from time to time falls to their lot. On such an occasion their wonted strict sobriety is abruptly melted beneath the flow of the native spirit, caña, and perhaps that of wine, and of beer. Then upon the open sward of the Campo they will dance their _tangos_, stepping it manfully for hour after hour. Indeed, strengthened by the intervals of rest, refreshment, and sleep, it is not unusual for them to continue these tremendous terpsichorean feats for two or three days on end. At the conclusion of which, having danced themselves out and drunk themselves in, these astonishing mortals are perfectly ready for their strenuous work in the saddle! Having concluded with the Gaucho, it soon becomes evident that the main features of individuality that distinguish the Uruguayan from his neighbours are very nearly finished with as well. The landowner, it is true, still clings in parts to ancient customs and the remnants of national costume rather more closely than elsewhere in the Southern republics. But the distinctions here are less marked, and in the case of the townsmen have disappeared altogether. An important factor in the population is now provided by the large foreign element that has settled itself permanently in the country. By far the most numerous communities of these are those of the Italians and Spaniards; but in addition there is scarcely a European country that is not more or less strongly represented by its emigrants. The negro race, although its presence is more marked than in the republics to the West, is quite insignificant numerically in the South of Uruguay. Towards the north, however, the numbers of the Africans are much increased, and as the Brazilian frontier is closely approached, the black people tend rather to predominate over the white. It is only in these remote districts that the possibility of a racial question could be involved. As a matter of fact, such an eventuality is quite undreamed of, and nowhere in the world is it less likely to occur. In the absence of any drawn distinction the negro appears to exist in more or less complete peace, and only meddles with the affairs of the country during troublous times when instructed by the true lords of the soil, whose actual superiority would seem all the greater for the fact of its being unexpressed. Considering the number of slaves that were imported directly into Uruguay as well as those that filtered southwards through Brazil, it is perhaps somewhat a matter for astonishment that these blacks are not numerically stronger than is the case. The explanation lies largely in the numerous wars by which the country has been harassed in the past, and in the policy that prevailed under the old Spanish regime. Black troops were freely employed then, and it must be admitted that they met with far less consideration than the rest. If a desperate situation arose, they were wont to be sent out in search of a glory that was very remote and of a death that was very near, not necessarily because the Spaniards feared for themselves in the attempt, but rather on account of the science of racial economy, and on the principle of sacrificing the pawns before the more aristocratic chessmen. And it is to these wholesale gaps in the black ranks that the existing scarcity of the negro population in the South is largely due. Not that it must be inferred from this that the general treatment of the African slaves by the Spaniards was severe. Their fate has always been entirely distinct from that of the unfortunate native Indians. The blood of these latter, slain by the first generation of adventurous _conquistadores_, flowed in red rivers almost the length and breadth of South America, while tens of thousands more sank and died beneath the superhuman tasks imposed upon them. Nevertheless they were not sacrificed from mere wanton love of slaughter. Held as soulless instruments from whom the last possible ounce of labour was to be extracted, these fearful slaughterings were instigated as acts of discipline that should make more pliant and serviceable material of the general body, while the cowed met their slower, toilful death in order that their masters should obtain wealth ere the advent from Europe of further competitors who might desire to share their wealth with them. After a while the limitations both of the continent and of the labour capacities of its natives became evident, and the first spasms of the remorseless and feverish lust moderated. It was then that the introduction of the negro occurred. With the maturing of the continent came a milder and more settled form of civilisation, of which the dusky imported labourers obtained the full benefit. That they were well cared for in times of peace is testified to not only by the native historians but by perfectly unbiassed English travellers. One of these, who visited Uruguay during the last years of the Spanish dominion, is particularly emphatic on the point. "There is one trait," he writes, "in the South American Spaniards much in their favour. I mean the mild, humane, and gentle treatment which their slaves receive. This one would scarcely expect from the cruelty they manifest to animals. The condition of the Africans here is without doubt happier than in any other part of the world where they are held in slavery, and I will even venture to say, more so than in their native country. A severe punishment is seldom inflicted; the tasks imposed on them are light, and such as they can easily execute. Indeed, they scarcely seem to be slaves." If any palliation for enforced human labour were possible it might be looked for in evidence such as this. Nevertheless, since nothing of the kind is admissible, it is well to remember that the slave era in the River Plate countries is now a matter of comparatively remote history. Moreover, as though in compensation for a former servitude, however light, the lot of the African here is now undoubtedly happier than almost anywhere else in the world. In addition to the ordinary foreign landowners and residents in Uruguay are a few of the regular immigrant colonies the establishment of which has now become so popular throughout the Southern republics. Of these the most important is the Swiss Colony in the neighbourhood of Colonia, to which reference has already been made. CHAPTER XXI ESTANCIA LIFE Similarities between the farming routine of Uruguay and of Argentina--The Banda Oriental a pastoral rather than an agricultural land--Viticulture an asset in estancia affairs--Wheat, maize, and linseed--Scarcity of alfalfa--Excellence of the natural pastures--The possibilities of private agricultural colonisation--Favourable outlook for grazing countries in general--Lemco estancias--The estancia San Juan--A comprehensive enterprise--Cattle, cereals, and viticulture--Stone quarries--A Campo sketch--The cutting out of a bullock--A Gaucho meal. The Uruguayan estancia life resembles that of Argentina very closely. And of this latter so much has been written in recent years that a too lengthy description of the routine of one of the great cattle farms would almost inevitably savour of repetition and superfluity. The duties of both estanciero and his major-domo are, indeed, almost identical with those of their brethren upon the other side of the great river. There are similar rides of inspection in order to "revise camp," similar great _rodeos_, or gatherings of cattle, and a general method of life that is distinct from the other merely in minor details. [Illustration: THE BICHADERO ESTANCIA.] [Illustration: HEREFORD CATTLE ON THE BICHADERO ESTANCIA. To face p. 246.] In the main ethics of the farming itself, it is true, there are some differences. Seeing that Uruguay is a pastoral rather than an agricultural land, the system of setting apart a certain proportion of a private estancia for the purpose of colonisation by crop-raising tenants is almost unknown. On the other hand, as it happens that the soil of a portion of almost every province is suitable for viticulture, a great number of the Uruguayan landowners throughout the republic cultivate vineyards--an industry that in Argentina is confined almost entirely to the two great grape-growing centres of Mendoza and San Juan. In many districts of the Banda Oriental, moreover, fruit-growing forms part and parcel of the industrial programme of an estancia, instead of necessarily forming an entirely separate branch of commerce, as is the case in Argentina. Although I have referred to Uruguay as an essentially pastoral country, it must not be inferred from this that the cultivation of cereals and the like has no existence in the land. On the contrary, many districts--notably that of Colonia, the most fertile in the Republic--produce really important quantities of wheat and maize, and a certain amount of linseed beyond, although this latter is grown in a minor degree. Very few districts in the country are adapted for the favourable cultivation of alfalfa, a fact that is undoubtedly to be regretted, since the merits of this lucerne for the purposes of fattening cattle are supreme. Yet this disadvantage is to a great extent counterbalanced by the excellent pastures of natural grass with which Uruguay is so plentifully endowed. It is likely enough, too, that the system of private agricultural colonisation referred to above will in the future be seriously undertaken. At the present moment experiments in this direction are being undertaken, and, should the landowners become impressed with the success of the departure, it is quite possible that the system will spread with the same rapidity as was the case in Argentina. In the meanwhile the supreme interest of Uruguay remains pastoral; and the bulls and the rams continue to be lords in the land. In a sense this is undoubtedly just as well, for in all probability never was the outlook for grazing countries more favourable than it is at the present moment, when the exports of North America are rapidly dying away, and the markets of Europe are opening their metaphorical mouths in a clamorous demand for further supplies. Some of the largest and most imposing of the Uruguayan estancias are situated in the western districts of the Republic. Many of these, such as the Bichadero, Ombú, and others, are owned by the Lemco Company, and constitute most imposing estates, stocked by pedigree cattle. The San Juan estancia is situated in the neighbourhood of Colonia, and, under the able management of Mr. J. Booth, affords one of the best possible examples of an estate whose lands have been aptly utilised to serve various purposes. The estancia is noted in the first place for the quality of its live stock--and with no little reason, since it harbours over a thousand head of pedigree shorthorn and Hereford cattle. But the energies of the San Juan estancia are not confined to the raising of cattle and the production of maize. Viticulture is a matter of great importance here, for the place enjoys a great repute for the quality of its wine. Its vineyards, as a matter of fact, repose on a subsoil of iron-stone rocks, which lends a particularly pleasant flavour to the vintages. In addition to the great vineyards that spread themselves over portions of the estate, the cellars of its bodega are well worth a visit. The building is specially constructed for the purpose, and contains air-spaces between the inner and outer walls, thus rendering the interior to all intents and purposes damp-proof. The cellars contain forty-two large casks, each with a capacity for holding 3,600 litres, and, beyond these, twelve giant specimens, in each of which eight thousand litres of wine may be stored. The extent of the vineyards on the place is thirty hectares, and from this area an average 250,000 litres of wine are produced annually. Thus it will be seen that the vineyard industry of San Juan is of no mean importance. Among the other branches of general industry in which San Juan is interested is that of stone-quarries, the quality and extent of the deposits here being considerable. A large bee-farm is also attached to the place. In addition to this comprehensive programme there are, of course, the ordinary side-issues of estancia production in the way of both live stock and agriculture. Among the horses bred are not a few racers of pedigree stock that have given a good account of themselves in the neighbourhood and elsewhere. The estancia-house of San Juan is delightfully situated amidst orange, wattle, and paraiso trees, from whose trunks and branches hang festoons of air-plants and masses of yellow orchids. From the picturesque, shaded building itself the view embraces miles of undulating country on all sides, with a few distant peeps of the waters of the River Plate to the south-west. It would be difficult to conceive a pleasanter or a better managed spot. Such estancias as these, of course, represent the cream of the land, and Uruguayan "camp" life must not be judged as a whole by such particularly favourable examples. Even the foreigner in the Republic, whose life is wont to be rather more fully surrounded with comfort than that of his native-born brother, must perforce make a beginning, and, as in all else, it is always the first steps that are the roughest. It is said that one of the first requisites of a gardener is a cast-iron back. In the same way the primary needs of the budding estanciero are undoubtedly health and a good horse. In these respects he is likely to be well suited, for the climate will attend to the former and his _patron_ to the latter. I have already said that the scenes upon the Uruguayan estancias are much the same as elsewhere, but the following sketch may serve to show a little of the local colour with which the rural Oriental landscape and life are imbued: * * * * * [Illustration: ESTANCIA HOUSE: SAN JUAN. To face p. 250.] The bullock is grazing in the midst of his fellows, plucking stolidly at the spring grass, whose close blades paint the undulations of the Uruguayan Campo in soft green. No pedigree animal this, his lengthy horns, rather pointed nose, and shaggy mottled coat being redeemed by various features that tend to raise him from the mere ruck of the disappearing country-bred. There is a trace of Hereford in the compact form, straight back, and in the symptoms of red-brown and white that endeavour to assert themselves from out of the confusion of his other markings. Representing one of the earlier stages in the forward march of the local breeds, he is of the type known to experts by the cryptic word "useful"--a meritorious physical condition whose reward is wont to fructify in an earlier death than that accorded to those of his brethren who are less liberal in meat. At the present moment the bullock is supremely content, although profoundly unconscious of the charm of his surroundings. This is perhaps just as well, since his ribs would undoubtedly emerge from their plump covering were he to waste the precious moments of mastication in favour of less material delights. As it is, he tramples carelessly on the patches of scarlet verbena, and crushes the life from the white tobacco blossom and the blue lupin flower with a ponderous impartiality. It is enough for him that the warm sunlight beats down upon his back, and that the plentiful grass rises to his cud in a ceaseless green stream. Moreover, the few score of companions that surround him lend a dimly-felt but comforting sense of comradeship. From the green of the foreground to the blue and mysterious distant swellings of the horizon the face of the Campo has been devoid of humanity. Near by a humble rancho, it is true, raises its diffident walls from the earth, a lowly erection of turf and reeds, enlivened here and there by a small auxiliary patch of corrugated iron, that catches up the sun-rays to flash them back in brilliant defiance. But there are no signs of life about the place beyond that afforded by a couple of hens of worn and frayed appearance that make rapid and spiteful passes at the dust with their beaks. Only when the sun is falling near to the horizon does the first sign manifest itself of more active stirrings. The figures of two horsemen have emerged from behind a distant clump of eucalyptus that stands out like a green island from the midst of a rolling sea. As the riders draw nearer it is plain that they are Gauchos--Gauchos in a workaday mood, and consequently in attire far less picturesque than that which lends colour to their feast days. Yet they afford striking enough figures of men in their sombreros, kerchiefs, white shirts, broad trousers, horse-hide boots, and giant spurs. Each part and parcel of his horse, they come loping easily along with that curious air of careless alertness that is characteristic of the Gaucho. With the first warning of human approach the cattle have raised their heads in the wary and rather resentful stare that the presence of such visitors demands. When no doubt longer remains that the grim-faced riders are heading directly for their own company, doubt turns to active alarm. There is a flinging up of heels and tails, a bunching together of scattered units, and a surging to and fro, while the horns wave in a panic of indecision. The bullock with the traces of Hereford markings has run to a common centre with the rest. A moment later the horses are cleaving the ranks of the cattle, and the cumbrous bodies of the horned creatures go floundering to right and left just as they have floundered a dozen times before, with precisely the same degree, moreover, of dread and confusion. Dodging and twisting ponderously, they rush to and fro for a while, then flee with a thunder of hoofs from the impact, ending up in a breathless halt at length to turn their horns upon one another in a fury of terror. All but the bullock with the scanty Hereford markings. He has raced and charged with the rest, only to find on each occasion a horse's flank or chest barring the way to safety, and a threatening human arm raised on high that sent him without further ado to the right-about. And now the situation is doubtless quite inexplicable, since the rumbling of his companions' hoofs has died away, and he is racing across the Campo quite alone save for the horseman who gallops remorselessly on either flank--fatal attendants who are no more to be shaken off than the hairs of his hide. A lasso circles lightly in the air, uncoiling as it goes like an aerial snake: the noose falls with a gentle rattle on the hurrying animal's horns. A terrific jerk shakes him from tail to nostril. But the bullock has kept his legs, and stands firm now, pulling with all his might against the strain that follows, heaving from side to side in his fight with the rope that never slackens. There is a thudding of horses' hoofs at his quarters now. Enraged at the presence of a second foe, the bullock kicks wildly, and the action is the signal for his doom. Another rope has whistled through the air, and has encircled his fetlock in some demoniacal fashion. In consequence, he gives a strenuous jump into the air--his last, for ere his feet have touched the ground his legs are wrenched away from under him, and the heavy body of the creature, flung full upon its side, strikes the earth with a crash. Ere he can move the beat of galloping horses' hoofs has drawn near, and ceased. Two men have sprung to the ground, and are securing his legs with ropes; then one rises to draw the blade of a huge knife from its sheath at his belt. A minute later there is a pool of darker crimson by the side of the verbena patches. A couple of hours later there is a log fire upon the Campo, and the beef is being cut into long strips from where it is spitted above the blaze, and eaten wholesale as Gaucho appetite demands. In the meanwhile the carancho birds are gathering thickly above, for meat is cheap upon the open pastures, and they will be economically-minded Gauchos indeed who do not leave them the greater share of the carcass. CHAPTER XXII URUGUAY AS A PASTORAL COUNTRY Origin of the live stock of the country--Influence of the climate and pastures upon the first animals introduced--Live stock census of 1909--Importance of the breeding industry--Various ramifications--Principal items of home consumption--Articles of export--Quality of the first herds introduced--Type of original sheep and horses--Goats and pigs--The introduction of a superior class of animal--The _criollos_ and the _mestizos_--Breeds imported--Durham, Hereford, Polled Angus, and Devon cattle--Dutch, Norman, Flemish, and Swiss cattle--Growth of the dairy industry--Popular breeds of sheep and horses, and pigs--Principal countries from which the animals are derived--Growing value of the local-bred live stock--The manipulation of an estancia--Well-found estates--Uruguayan agricultural societies--Work effected by these--Government support--The Rural Association of Uruguay--Financial results of agricultural shows--Side products--Tallow--Hams--Tanning--"La Carolina"--A great dairy farm--The factory of Breuss and Frey--The _saladeros_, or meat-curing establishments--Number of animals slaughtered--Method by which the meat is cured--_Tasajo_--Countries to which it is exported--The frozen meat trade--"La Frigorifica Uruguaya"--Important growth of the new industry--Shipments of frozen meat. The great numbers of the live stock which to-day constitute the chief wealth of Uruguay owe their origin to the animals introduced by the Spanish _conquistadores_ at the beginning of the seventeenth century. These animals, which, of course, were drawn from the breeds that existed in Spain at that period, found themselves surrounded by conditions that were eminently favourable. Thus, beneath the influence of a temperate climate and of the rich and nourishing pastures that cover almost the entire surface of the Republic their numbers rapidly multiplied. It is for these reasons, moreover, that the breeding and traffic in these animals constitutes at the present day the principal industry of the inhabitants. The live stock census organised by the Government in the year 1909 gave the following results concerning the numbers of the live stock that are now in existence in the Republic: Sheep 16,608,717 Cattle 6,827,428 Horses 561,408 Pigs 93,923 Mules 22,992 Goats 20,428 ---------- Total 24,134,896 These figures might reasonably be increased, since it was necessarily impossible for the census to deal with the complete numbers of the animals that exist throughout the country. Thus, without danger of exaggeration, it may be supposed that some thirty million head of live stock actually graze upon the pastures of the land. These figures suffice to show the enormous importance to which live stock breeding has attained in Uruguay. The ramifications of this industry are naturally numerous. For home consumption and internal commerce meat, milk, and tallow form the principal items. For the export trade the list is considerably more comprehensive. Live cattle, frozen, chilled, tinned, and dried meat, beef extracts, wool, horns, hides, tallow, fat, guano, and the various other products now make up a commerce of an annual value of thirty millions of gold dollars, or of rather more than six million pounds sterling. Chilled or frozen beef and mutton form the principal items of this export trade, after which hides and extract of meat rank next in importance. The main breeds of animals introduced by the Spaniards at the time of the conquest, although they served their purpose well enough at the time, were by no means of the type which the exigencies of modern times require. The cattle of former years were wanting in many respects. They were wont to possess, for example, a superabundance of bone, were badly built, and were notably backward in development. The sheep were possessed of the same faults, and, in addition, were wont to yield inferior wool. The horses, on the other hand, although of light build and lacking somewhat in shape, have proved themselves particularly well suited to the country. Hardy and of great power of endurance, they have adapted themselves completely to the natural conditions of the land. From this stock a breed has sprung that fulfils admirably the equine duties of the Campo. The tendency of these horses has been to improve and to increase in size. Both the pigs and goats that were imported from Spain were of an inferior order, although the latter showed favourable results in the yielding of milk. By the aid of these breeds alone it is certain that the live stock of Uruguay could never have attained to that degree of excellence in quality such as it can legitimately boast to-day. From these, for example, cattle could never have been produced of the class that the freezing works now demand, nor the valuable wool that is characteristic of the day. The beginning of this later progress dates from the middle of the last century. It was then that the more progressive breeders became aware of the limitations of the _criollo_ races, as are termed the breeds imported from Spain that have flourished and taken root in the land. To this end these were crossed with others of a superior type, and thus the much-improved _mestizos_, or cross-breds, were obtained. These now preponderate in many regions of the Republic, in which, by the way, no true criollo animals now remain. In order to effect this improvement in the cattle various English breeds have been introduced. Of these the two most important are the Durham and the Hereford, both of which are excellently adapted for the production of meat. By the crossing of these with the criollo a mestizo steer is obtained, capable of turning the scale at six hundred kilos and more, that provides excellent meat whether for the purposes of live shipment, freezing, salting, or extract. In addition to these more important breeds others have been introduced, such as the Devon, Polled Angus, and a few further varieties--all these, however, in a lesser degree. It will be evident from this that the improvements in stock have been effected chiefly with the view of increasing the quantity of meat produced. Nevertheless, there are others that have been imported for dairy purposes alone. The chief of these are the Dutch, Norman, Flemish, and Swiss. It must be remarked that the popularity of these is rapidly growing, on account of the progress and extension of the dairy industry. So far as sheep are concerned, the breeds that have been found most suitable for the country are the Merino, Lincoln, Shropshire, Hampshire, Romney Marsh, and Southdown. The Merino race amidst its new surroundings provides an especially fine class of wool that is appreciated throughout the world; from the crossing of the Merino with the English breeds animals are obtained that provide the best meat for the purposes of export, and those types of wool that are most in demand for general commercial purposes. The horses principally employed for saddle purposes and for light draught are the thorough-bred, Yorkshire, Anglo-Norman, Irish, and Russian, while for heavy draught the Percheron, Clydesdale, and Shire strains are the most popular. The improvement in pig-breeding has been effected by the introduction of several English species, such as the Yorkshire and Berkshire, the French animals of the kind being rarely employed. It is by means of the crossing with all these above-mentioned breeds that the general live stock of the country has been raised in degree. The result has been distinctly favourable, since the healthy climate and the pastures are eminently suitable for the finest strains as well as for the cross-breds. The annual importation into Uruguay of sires, bulls, and of the remaining stock is now large. The countries whence they are derived are England and other European lands, Australia, Argentina, and North America. Amongst these many valuable animals are to be met with. Thus recently two champion rams have been imported from Australia, various champion bulls and rams from England, while from France came the noted Durham bull "Tamarin." [Illustration: CHALÊT AT COLONIA SUIZA.] [Illustration: THE VINTAGE: ESTANCIA SAN JUAN. To face p. 258.] Uruguay, however, does not now depend entirely upon importations from abroad for its pedigree stock. It already possesses a number of _cabañas_, or breeding establishments, from which emerge cattle and sheep of a grade sufficiently high to meet with success in the agricultural shows of other countries. These are to be distinguished from the estancias, the farms of larger area upon which the general live stock of commerce thrives. The ordinary estancia consists of a number of paddocks, separated the one from the other by wire fences, of the natural pastures that abound in Uruguay. The advance that has been effected in these great enterprises is on a par with that of the rest. They are as a rule well provided with sheds for the housing of the pedigree stock and with plantations of trees for the shelter of the less valuable type of animal, as well as with cattle-dips, water deposits, and stockyards, and, in fact, with every installation that is requisite for the purpose of the industry. In every department of the Republic societies have been founded in order to encourage scientific breeding, and to organise the agricultural shows that are now held throughout the country. These agricultural meetings have served a most useful purpose in fostering an interest in breeding and in the various other branches of the general national industries. This fact has been recognised by the Government, which, in consequence, has done its utmost to stimulate the holding of such functions. It has thus during the past few years spent an annual sum of fifty thousand dollars in the subsidising of these events, an outlay that has undoubtedly borne good fruit. In providing these subsidies it is stipulated that at least a third part of the sum provided shall be expended in cash prizes, and that the chief attention in this respect shall be devoted to those particular branches of industry that appear in a less advanced condition than the rest, and that, therefore, are the most in need of encouragement. Many of these agricultural societies possess extensive grounds of their own in the near neighbourhood of the provincial capital. In these places permanent buildings are frequently to be met with that are employed for the annual shows. These usually owe their construction to private enterprise, assisted by the Government. In Montevideo, too, there is a ground specially set apart for this purpose. Here the Rural Association of Uruguay holds the great annual championship meeting, and the Government has just allotted the sum of a hundred thousand dollars for the purpose of improving the spot, and for the introduction of the very latest innovations. These agricultural shows have proved highly successful in facilitating the actual commercial transactions having reference to live stock of all descriptions. Thus during the past few years the principal meetings alone have been responsible for an annual sale of over half a million dollars' worth of animals. Although, as has been explained, numerous products of the pastoral industry are exported in their natural state, there are others which require special treatment and preparation in their country of origin ere shipment, and which are daily gaining in importance. The most important institutions that deal with these are the meat-curing factories, the freezing works, and the establishments for preserving meat and for extracting its essence. These chief industries we will deal with at some length later, enumerating first of all some of the side products of lesser importance, such as the manufacture of tallow and of hams, and that of tanning. Another industry that bids fair to be of supreme importance in the future is that of dairy-farming. At the present time this is worked on a comparatively modest scale, since the great majority of farms are content with the breeding and selling of the cattle. Nevertheless, there are several important establishments that produce milk, butter, and cheese for the purposes of both home consumption and of export. The chief amongst these establishments is that of La Carolina, belonging to Don Francisco Fontana, which occupies an area of eight thousand hectares in the department of Rocha. No less than five thousand milch cows graze on this property, which is provided with steam-driven machinery of the most modern type. In the department of Colonia, too, exists the colony of Swiss, who devote themselves especially to this particular branch of industry. The principal factory here is that of Breuss and Frey, which deals with thirty thousand litres of milk daily, and can turn out twenty-four thousand kilos of butter in a month. This factory likewise contains the most up-to-date machinery, and is provided with freezing and sterilising apparatus. This concern exports cheese as well as butter. These few facts will give an idea of the point to which the dairy-farming industry in Uruguay may develop in the near future, since there exist several millions of cows of a type eminently suitable for the purpose. In the Republic there are actually twenty saladeros in existence, of which thirteen are situated in Montevideo, seven on the banks of the River Uruguay, and one at Paso de los Toros, in the interior of the country. The number of the animals slaughtered at these saladeros will give an idea of the importance of the industry. During the years 1904 and 1908 the total amounted to no less than 2,763,855 head of cattle, thus making the average for the year over half a million head. During these five years 223,872,000 kilos of _tasajo_, or dried meat, were prepared, which represent a yearly average of forty-five million kilos. The average yield of the steers was ninety kilos of tasajo, that of the cows sixty kilos. The manner in which this dried meat is prepared in the saladeros is fairly simple. After the cattle have been slaughtered and the veterinary examination has proved the absence of any taint or disease the bones are separated from the meat, which is then shaped into various portions known respectively as _mantas_ and _postas_. Once dried, these are placed in brine-pans, and piled up, well covered with salt. According to the state of the weather and the condition to which the meat is required to attain, it is placed in special vessels in the sun for a period varying between four and six days, until it is perfectly dry and ready to be baled. As will be seen from this, salt and sun heat are the two principal agents that enter into the manufacture of tasajo, two powerful agents that, it is claimed, perform their task in the simplest and most hygienic fashion possible. The slaughtering season in the saladeros generally begins in the month of November, and is continued until January of the following year. Tasajo, when its manufacture is completed, is classified into four grades, in accordance with the fatter or leaner propensities of the meat. The former kinds are exported principally to the markets of Brazil, while the latter are for the most part destined for consumption in Cuba. Beyond these, however, there are various other fields in which tasajo plays a popular part. It is, for instance, sent in fairly large quantities to the Portuguese colonies, to Puerto Rico, and to Spain and Portugal themselves, as well as to numerous less important places whose inhabitants have learned to appreciate this particular form of dried meat. The product contains certain advantages in that its treatment is simple throughout. Thus, when once in the hands of its actual consumers, the salt has merely to be dissolved from the meat in order to render it in a condition prepared for the oven. It is several years now since Uruguay has commenced to export frozen meat. Six years ago an important freezing establishment, La Frigorifica Uruguaya, was founded in the department of Montevideo on the bank of the River Plate. The place occupies a large extent of ground, and is capable of slaughtering daily two hundred head of cattle and two thousand sheep. This establishment is fitted up with the most recent inventions that have been brought to bear on the freezing process. The frozen beef is classified into three qualities, according to type and weight, and is packed in quarters in a double covering that completely preserves it from the danger of contact with other substances. The carcasses of the sheep, following the usual custom, are shipped entire, and covered in the same way. The Frigorifica Uruguaya began operations in 1905. The rapid increase in the extent of its shipments may be judged from the following figures. Thus, in 1905, the year of its inception, the establishment exported two thousand tons of frozen meat; in 1906 the shipments had increased to four thousand tons, whereas in 1907 the total amounted to seven thousand and in 1908 to nine thousand tons. This increase has continued unchecked during the past couple of years, and the shipments for 1910 are estimated to have amounted to no less than twelve thousand tons. The machinery has now been added to, and the result will certainly go to swell these figures considerably more in the near future. The benefit that this concern confers on the pastoral industry is of course very great. Not only does it increase the facilities for sale of the cattle, but its existence tends in addition towards the improvement of breed in general, since only the animals of a superior class are suitable for the purpose it serves. CHAPTER XXIII DEPARTMENTS, CLIMATE, AND NATURAL HISTORY The nineteen divisions of Uruguay--Their populations, areas, towns, and industries--Canelones--Florida--San José--Durazno--Flores--Colonia--Soriano--Rio Negro--Paysandú--Salto--Artigas--Tacuarembó--Rivera--Cerro Largo--Treinta y Tres--Rocha--Maldonado--Montevideo--Climate--Favourable conditions throughout the Republic--The Atlantic coast line--The summer season--Pleasantly tempered heat--A land of cool breezes--Its attractions as a pleasure resort--Climates of the interior and of the north--Draught--Locusts--Comparative immunity of a pastoral country--Uruguayan fauna--Some common creatures of the Campo--Bird life--The ostrich--Its value as a commercial asset--The trade in ostrich feathers--Measures for the protection of the birds. A list of the nineteen departments of Uruguay with their more salient features will go far towards explaining in detail the various areas, populations, and resources of the Republic. Canelones, situated in the midst of the departments of Montevideo, San José, Florida, Minas, and Maldonado, with a coast-line upon the River Plate, possesses an area of 4,751 square kilometres. It is one of the most populous departments, containing over ninety thousand inhabitants. Three railway-lines connect the district with Montevideo. Its chief towns are Guadeloupe, Santa Lucia, Pando, and Las Piedras, each of which contains some eight thousand inhabitants. Canelones is mainly devoted to pasture, agriculture, viticulture, and general fruit-growing. Florida is situated directly to the north of Canelones. Its area is 12,107 square kilometres and its population fifty thousand. Two lines of railway connect it with Montevideo. The chief town is Florida, the capital of the department, a city of ten thousand inhabitants. Until recent years Florida has been almost altogether given up to the pastoral industry; but of late agriculture has made great strides. San José is situated to the west of Canelones, and likewise possesses a coast-line on the River Plate. Its area is 6,932 square kilometres; population about fifty thousand. The department is connected with Montevideo by two railway lines. The principal town is San José de Mayo, with a population of just over twelve thousand inhabitants. Rather more than half the department is made up of rich pasture-lands, although the agricultural districts are increasing. In addition to fruit-growing and viticulture, the timber industry of San José is important, consisting of wood both for building purposes and for fuel. Durazno, to the north of Florida, is the most central department in the Republic, and contains a population of fifty thousand inhabitants. It is connected by a railway line with Montevideo, and its chief city is San Pedro del Durazno, whose inhabitants number eleven thousand. The department is essentially a pastoral one, and is especially well watered, being served by the Rivers Negro and Yi, and by countless tributaries and smaller streams. Flores, situated to the west of Durazno, contains twenty thousand inhabitants. Almost half this number are residents of the capital, Trinidad. Flores is not yet served by a railway, and it is probably for this reason that so many of its districts, admirably adapted for agriculture, still remain essentially pastoral. In Flores is a very curious grotto, sustained by natural arches and columns, that has been the source of much geological controversy. Colonia is the richest and most important department of all in the Republic. Lying to the west of San José, it has the advantage not only of railways but of a lengthy coast-line on the River Plate. Agriculture here has attained to a high pitch of development, and dairy-farming constitutes one of the most important industries of the department. Fruit culture and viticulture are in an equally advanced condition, while the quarrying of building stone is now being energetically carried on. In Colonia is situated the Swiss Colony, the inhabitants of which apply themselves to agriculture and dairy-farming. Soriano lies to the north of Colonia, and its western boundary is likewise washed by the waters of the river--no longer the River Plate, but the Uruguay. The area of the department is 9,223 kilometres, and its population rather exceeds forty thousand. Soriano is connected by railway with Montevideo. Its chief town is Mercedes, the population of which amounts to ten thousand inhabitants. The principal industry is pasture, although agriculture and general fruit-growing is carried on to a certain extent. Timber, charcoal-burning, and stone-quarrying are responsible for a certain amount of labour. A fair quantity of minerals such as iron, silver, copper, and lead is met with here. Rio Negro is situated on the Uruguay River to the north of Colonia. Its area is 8,470 kilometres and its population twenty thousand. The department is now in the act of being linked up with the main centres by railway. Its capital is Fray Bentos, a town celebrated as one of the chief centres of the manufacture of meat extract, with a population of seven thousand inhabitants. Rio Negro is essentially a pastoral province, and is the chief centre in the Republic for the breeding of live stock, which attains here to an exceptionally high grade of quality. Rio Negro is one of the most favourably situated departments as regards water communication. In addition to its 120 kilometres of coast-line on the Uruguay it possesses 200 kilometres of river frontage on the River Negro. Paysandú bounds Rio Negro to the north, with a lengthy frontage on the Uruguay River. Its population is forty thousand, of which twenty-one thousand inhabit the capital, Paysandú, the second town of importance in Uruguay. The area of the department is about 14,000 square kilometres. Paysandú is connected by railway both with the capital and the northern centres. Its industries are chiefly pastoral and agricultural, and a number of meat-curing establishments exist. Salto is the neighbouring province to the north upon the River Uruguay. It contains an area of 12,500 square kilometres and a population of rather over fifty thousand. Its chief town is Salto, that in actual size is said to exceed that of Paysandú, numbering as it does rather over twenty-two thousand inhabitants. The department is served by railway. The principal industry is that of pasture. The department, moreover, is one of the chief wine-producing centres of the Republic. Salto is rich in minerals, and quartz and precious stones are met with in fair quantities here. Artigas is the northernmost province on the Uruguay as well as in the Republic. Its area is 11,300 square kilometres, its population thirty thousand. Its capital is San Eugenio, situated on the Brazilian frontier, a town of nine thousand inhabitants. The railway runs as far as this point, and thus serves the length of the province. Artigas contains many districts notable for minerals, and is well endowed with precious stones such as the amethyst and topaz. Owing to the northern situation of the department grazing and agriculture are carried on to a lesser extent than in the majority of others. The variety of timber is important here, hard woods being found as well as the softer varieties. Tacuarembó is situated in the northern centre of the Republic. That is to say, its frontiers extend from the centre to within a comparatively short distance of the Brazilian frontier. The department is the largest in Uruguay, its territories extending over more than twenty-one thousand square kilometres. Its population, however, does not exceed fifty thousand, and it is thus the most sparsely inhabited department of the country. It is served by a railway. The principal town is San Fructuoso, which possesses eight thousand inhabitants. Tacuarembó is for the most part devoted to agriculture. Tobacco flourishes in the province, and recent experimental rice plantations have met with a fair amount of success. Gold and manganese are met with in various districts. Rivera is bounded on the south by Tacuarembó and on the north by Brazil. It is a fairly extensive department containing comparatively few inhabitants, but the precise figures of neither the one nor the other seem available. The chief town of the department is Rivera, a city situated on the Brazilian frontier that has a population of ten thousand. The industries of Rivera are similar to those of Tacuarembó. The gold mines here are of considerable importance, and are in active working. The department is served by railway, Rivera being the northernmost Uruguayan point of the line from Montevideo. Cerro Largo is situated on the south-east of Rivera, and is bounded on the north-east by Brazil. The area of the department is nearly fifteen thousand square kilometres; population about forty-five thousand. Its capital is Melo, a town of fourteen thousand inhabitants. It is the terminus of a recently constructed railway-line, the entry of which into the country has had the effect of benefiting local commerce to a considerable extent. The principal industry is pastoral, but, in addition, a certain amount of agriculture is carried on. Treinta y Tres, which lies to the south of Cerro Largo, possesses an area of 9,550 square kilometres and a population of thirty thousand. It has not the advantage of being served by any railway, although this will shortly occur. The principal town is Treinta y Tres, whose inhabitants are about eight thousand in number. Up to the present time the pastoral industry predominates here, that of agriculture being scarcely known. It is anticipated, however, that the coming development of the province will alter this condition of affairs. The department is well wooded, and the timber industry here is an important one. Treinta y Tres is bounded on the east wholly by the great Lake of Merin, upon the further shore of which lies Brazil. Rocha, to the south of Treinta y Tres, is also bounded for the great part of its eastern frontier by Lake Merin, although a small portion of Brazil and a long stretch of Atlantic Ocean complete its boundaries in this direction. The department contains an area of eleven thousand kilometres and a population of forty thousand. It is not traversed by a railroad. Its chief industry is grazing; but in some districts viticulture is in an advanced state. The seal fishery affords an important revenue, and the mineral products of the country are considerable. Copper, gypsum, alabaster, marble, and jasper obtain in considerable quantities. The chief town is Rocha, a centre of unimportant size. Maldonado is situated on the Atlantic Ocean, to the west of Rocha. Its extent and population are not officially given. In a short while the department will be adequately served by the railway, which has already entered its frontiers. Like the great majority of the departments it is principally devoted to pasture. A certain amount of agriculture and wine-growing obtains, and in the southern districts much timber has been planted. The seal fishery in the neighbourhood of Lobos Island, off its coast, is important. The capital of the department is Maldonado, a small coastal town. Minas, to the north of Maldonado, has a population of about sixty thousand. In addition to its pasture and agriculture, the department is exceptionally well endowed with minerals. The capital is Minas, a city of fourteen thousand inhabitants, that forms the terminus of the railway-line from Montevideo. The department of Montevideo constitutes the small extent of territory in the neighbourhood of the capital itself, a considerable portion of which is taken up by the outer suburbs of the main town. The country in the neighbourhood here is very fertile and highly cultivated. There is probably no climate in South America that offers greater attractions than that of Uruguay. Throughout the Republic the conditions are favourable; but it stands to reason that those which obtain upon the coast-line facing the Atlantic are the most ideal of all. The climate in these neighbourhoods is essentially temperate, and may be likened to that of the Riviera of France, without, however, suffering from the occasional winter frosts and intense summer heat that characterise this latter seaboard. Nevertheless the winter temperature of the Uruguayan littoral when a southern wind is blowing can be quite as keen as is compatible with comfort. As is the case in the majority of temperate countries, there is no accurately defined rainy or dry reason, although the rains are wont to be far more abundant in the winter months. The heat of summer in the south-eastern provinces is very seldom oppressive; indeed, one of the most striking characteristics of the warm season is the continuance of the refreshing and bracing airs that temper the heat, and that render midsummer itself as enjoyable as the delightful spring months. The climate of Buenos Aires is distinctly pleasant, but, so far as the summer season is concerned, the difference between that of the capitals of Argentina and Uruguay is curiously marked, when it is taken into consideration that not more than 120 miles of water separate the two. The exceptionally pleasant conditions that prevail on this portion of the Oriental coast are acknowledged by none more readily than by the Argentines, who flock there in great numbers for the purposes of bathing and general climatic refreshment in January and February. The wind-swept uplands of the interior are favoured in a similar degree when compared with the districts of the other countries in corresponding latitudes. In the northern provinces upon the Brazilian frontier the increase in the normal temperature is, of course, very distinctly perceptible, and for the first time the vegetation gives undoubted evidence of an approach to the tropics. [Illustration: STREAM ON THE SAN JUAN ESTANCIA. To face p. 272.] In consequence of this temperate climate that it enjoys the natural plagues of the Banda Oriental are few. Drought, although it occurs from time to time, cannot be looked upon as a genuinely characteristic chastening influence of the land. The visitations of locusts constitute a more serious matter. These, as in the case of the neighbouring countries, occur in cycles, and the periods marked by the presence of the small winged creatures with the insatiable appetites are unpleasant enough for the agriculturalist. Owing to the great pastoral predominance in Uruguay, however, the country in general suffers far less than one more devoted to the production of cereals. With the spread of agriculture that is now in progress the question is likely to become more serious. But by the time that a reasonable proportion of the Republic has been brought under cultivation it is possible that one of the many plans that are continually being brought forward for the extermination of the locust curse may have taken effect. Nevertheless, too much reliance is not to be placed upon this very desirable consummation. The great majority of Uruguayan fauna are identical with those of the River Plate countries in general. The animals most commonly to be met with in a journey through the Campo are the carpincho, a large, tailless water-hog; the nutria, a creature that closely resembles a gigantic rat, although its hind feet are webbed; the skunk, the opossum, the iguana, and the armadillo. In the region of bird life the larger varieties most in evidence are the carancho, a cross between a vulture and a hawk; the chimangu, a smaller carrion-hawk, and a kestrel-hawk with brown body and bright grey wings. Far rarer are the large grey eagle, and the cuerbo, or black vulture. Heron of various species are very plentiful. Of the smaller birds the teru-tero, a variety of crested plover, is by far the most numerous, although certain districts exist in which the duck and teal run them a close second in point of numbers, while partridge and martineta are to be met with in abundance in others. Amongst the more gorgeous winged specimens of the country are the flamingo, parrot, woodpecker, humming-bird, and the little black pecho colorado with its brilliant scarlet breast. Both the scissor bird and the _viuda_ (window) bird are aptly named. The former rejoices in a very long, divided tail; the latter is of a pure white colour with a well-defined black border to its wings. The "bien te veo, bicho feo" is a mocking-bird whose call closely resembles the phrase by which it is known, and the ornero, or oven bird, is so called from the curious structure of its mud nest. The small owl, too, is a notable inhabitant of the Campo, as are the dainty miniature doves. But to enter fully into the animal life of the Banda Oriental would require a book in itself; therefore it is necessary to be content with a list of the varieties most commonly to be met with. In dealing with the category of birds I have purposely left the ostrich to the last, as that particular biped stands, as it were, in a class of its own. The _Rhea Americana_ represents a commercial asset of no little importance, and the grey companies of these rather awkward-looking creatures are carefully watched now as they strut solemnly to and fro over the pastures. The feathers, it is true, cannot as a rule rival in quality those of the African bird, although occasionally some very fine specimens are to be met with. Indeed, it is said that the large, specially selected feathers are sold at prices that range from fifteen dollars to twenty-five dollars the kilo. The great majority of the coarser feathers are of little value, and are employed for dusting brushes and such similar purposes. That the commerce in these ostrich feathers is of no little importance becomes evident when the shipments of the article are considered. In 1908 the exports of these to France, the United States, Spain, and Germany amounted to fifteen thousand kilos, while in 1909 they had increased to twenty-five thousand kilos. The numbers of the ostriches themselves, however, have tended to decrease of late years, and it is estimated that at the present time there are not more than fifty thousand in the country. Realising the danger incurred by this diminution, the Government is now taking measures towards the protection of these very useful birds, and there is no doubt that judicious legislation will cause their number to increase once more. CHAPTER XXIV INDUSTRIES AND NATURAL WEALTH England's financial stake in Uruguay--British capital invested in the Republic--Its monetary importance compared with that of other South American nations--General commercial development of the country--A satisfactory outlook--Progress of grazing and agriculture--Marked increase in commerce--Uruguay's exports--Cured meats and frozen carcasses--Diminution of the former trade; increase of the latter--Reasons for the transformation of industry--An outcome of Brazilian protection--The breeding of fine cattle for the European markets--Present situation of the world's meat market--The British Isles as importers of meat--The position in the United States--A change from the rôle of exporter to that of importer--The increase in River Plate shipments--Closeness of touch between South American and English markets--Probable admission of foreign meat into European countries--Intervention of the United States Beef Trust--Purchase of Frigorificos--Possible effects of a monopoly upon the producers--South American views on the subject--Favourable general position of the River Plate--The balance of power in beef--Extract of meat--The Lemco and Oxo Company--Ramifications of the enterprise--The town of Fray Bentos--Agriculture--Wheat--Maize--Barley. The financial interest that England possesses in Uruguay is not generally realised. As a matter of fact, the amount of British capital invested in the Banda Oriental amounts to over forty-four millions of pounds sterling, and there are thus only two nations, Argentina and Brazil, that possess a greater share of the total of those funds invested in the South American continent. To the ears of the majority, it must be admitted, the names of Chile, Peru, Venezuela, and Colombia sound more familiar than that of the country with which we are at present dealing. Yet in the matter of these investments Chile alone can approach the status of the small Republic on the River Plate, and, indeed, falls behind it only to the extent of a few hundred thousand pounds. Peru, however, is interested to scarcely more than one-half of the extent, while Venezuela, the next in order, cannot lay claim to one-sixth of the amount. A comparison such as this will show the real financial importance that Uruguay represents to England, and, such being admitted, the condition of its commerce must be a matter of proportionate interest. To deal first of all with the general commercial development of the country, the outlook is undoubtedly satisfactory. In order to obtain the broadest possible survey of the situation it is necessary to lump together the national imports and exports. Taking a recent number of five-yearly periods, the results obtained are: $ 1862-68 109,886,156 1869-73 158,468,043 1874-78 148,443,857 1879-83 195,757,038 1884-88 234,618,354 1889-93 261,877,934 1894-98 274,137,052 1899-1903 286,580,824 1904-08 338,009,777 The dollar quoted in this table--and wherever this unit is employed throughout the book--is, it should be explained, the Uruguayan gold dollar, the rough value of which may be estimated at four shillings and twopence. This steady development of commerce is not a little striking in view of the fact that up to the present only a very small percentage of the resources of the country have been brought to bear. It is true that the chief national wealth is likely, in the future as in the past, to remain centred in the rich natural grazing lands. But the progress of agriculture is now such that this branch of industry cannot well fail in the course of a few years to rank as a moderate second in importance to the business of grazing. Moreover, the development of this latter itself is only now being proceeded with in a manner worthy of the great resources that exist. The marked increase in the general commerce that is evident between the years 1899 and 1908 is due to a very large extent to the introduction of modern methods into the estancia life of the country. It is necessary now to turn to a more detailed consideration of Uruguay's exports. The chief of these, as has already been explained, is represented by live stock, and by meat in various forms. Of recent years these particular branches of industry have been undergoing a certain amount of transformation. For generations, indeed for centuries, Uruguay has represented the chief source of Brazil's supply of animal food. Not only were the herds of cattle and flocks of sheep driven northwards with ceaseless regularity across the frontier, but the millions of bales of dried beef flowed along the same channels too. Recent events have caused a certain diminution in this commerce. With the course of time Brazil has become more and more desirous of seeing her own southern and comparatively temperate provinces more liberally stocked with cattle. With the idea of fostering the local grazing industry, the northern republic has increased the duties upon both imported cattle and meat. The immediate result naturally proved unfavourable both to Uruguayan graziers and saladero owners. In the end, however, the outcome has proved beneficial rather than detrimental to the landowner. As may be imagined, for the manufacture of tasajo a high grade of cattle is not necessarily required. The secret of the actual quality of the meat is to a great extent lost in the dried and hardened bales of the preserve. Moreover, in order to suit the taste of local consumption in Brazil a far slenderer class of animal was necessary than the fattened type that the colder climates demand. Thus, when it became necessary to make up for the deficit in these neighbourly exports by the opening up of fresh markets and by catering for the overseas demand, one of the first means to be taken in hand towards attaining this end was a yet more close attention to the question of a quality of meat suitable for European consumption. There were many who foresaw numerous difficulties in attaining to this standard, principally owing to the comparative absence of alfalfa in the land. It is true that this fattening lucerne thrives only in limited areas of Uruguay. But to what extent the excellent pastures of the land have made up for this disadvantage is plain enough from the amount of frozen carcasses now shipped to Europe. The situation as regards the export of pastoral products has, in consequence, become improved. Less dried meat and fewer live cattle are sent to Brazil, but the deficiency is more than counterbalanced by shipments of a superior order to the new markets now established in Europe. The present situation of the meat markets throughout the world has reached so vitally important a stage that a few comments on the position cannot well come amiss in view of its inevitable direct influences upon Uruguay, and the similar stock-raising countries. Naturally enough, the primary centres of interest are to be found in the United States, and in its Beef Trust. Ere coming to this point, however, it would be as well to review the general situation. Until the present moment the British Isles have been the chief importers of frozen and chilled meat from both North and South America. The demand has, naturally enough, shown an annual increase corresponding with the growth of the population. A similar state of affairs has, of course, existed in North America, but here the increase of the inhabitants has been so rapid and so overwhelming that the breeding of cattle has been entirely unable to progress in the same ratio. The result of this is that the United States can now produce only a comparatively insignificant surplus over and above the quantity of animal food that is required for consumption by its own inhabitants. Of late, therefore, the shipments of North American beef to the British Isles have decreased with a rather startling celerity, and there can be no question that in the near future the trade will have ceased altogether. Exactly when this will occur--whether in two years or half a dozen--it is impossible for even the experts to tell, since so many elements of the unexpected enter into the question. But that it will come about is certain, and it is, of course, equally inevitable that the conclusion of the period of exportation will mark the beginning of another era when it will be necessary for the United States to import her animal food supply from countries outside her own frontiers. [Illustration: THE CATTLE DIP.] [Illustration: DRYING JERKED MEAT. To face p. 280.] In the meanwhile Argentina has stepped into the gap that North America had of necessity left vacant, and the establishment of its frigorifico will now enable Uruguay to take a hand in this business of shipping. The River Plate countries are undoubtedly in a position to cope with the situation for an indefinite period of years, although its effects are already evident to a certain extent upon the local markets of Argentina. In the latter country I have been present at the stockyards in November when the herds of cattle that had arrived from the Campo were being sold. The faces of those estancieros who were present were beaming, for prices were ruling quite exceptionally high. The reason lay in the demand for the London Christmas beef that had sent its stimulus all this distance--an emphatic proof of the closeness of touch that now obtains between the River Plate and the British Isles. Were the position to begin and end at this point it would be simple enough. Some developments, however, have occurred of late that render the outlook for the future far more complicated. There seems very little doubt that the time will come when England will no longer enjoy the practical monopoly of imported beef. The desire for the admission of this commodity in several of the great European countries is becoming more and more accentuated, and it is highly probable that the agitation that is now being carried on in favour of this new departure will eventually result in the breaking down of the barriers that at present oppose the trade. It is, of course, impossible to estimate the full extent of the consequences of a move of the kind, but that it must cause a rise in the price of beef in the English markets is inevitable. In the face of these possibilities the prospects of the River Plate countries are, of course, more favourable than ever before. With the markets of Europe open to their cattle and meat, the added stimulus to the industries of these countries cannot fail to be enormous. But here again an element has come into being that, although it will have no effect upon the industry, taken as a whole, must necessarily threaten many of the interests involved. The Beef Trust of the United States has been keenly alive to the great pastoral developments in South America. Accurately foreseeing that the importance of the present day is merely a prelude to what is to come, the great corporation has now descended wholesale upon the shores of the River Plate, has already bought up a number of frigorificos, and it will be through no want of endeavour of its own if it does not sooner or later acquire the remainder. I have no desire to tilt against the Beef Trust, which is very probably an excellent institution, but one that, since it openly lays no claim to a purely philanthropical policy, cannot be expected to safeguard the welfare of concerns that do not tend towards its own advancement. Should this corporation, therefore, attain its present object of securing the frigorificos, and the consequent monopoly of the purchase of cattle for export, the actual producers of the live stock will find themselves face to face with a situation of which they have previously had no experience. It is quite possible that it will suit the corporation to buy the cattle at prices similar to those which now obtain--or it may not, since it is well known that the estanciero continued to exist in a more or less affluent fashion when his cattle sold at lower rates than is the case at the present day. In any case the matter seems to be taken fairly lightly in the South American countries most concerned. The prevalent idea is that, should the danger be realised, it is easy to legislate against trusts--a theory that may, or may not, be correct. Putting aside for the moment, however, these possible complications, it will be clear that the position of the River Plate countries as regards the shipment of their beef is quite exceptionally favourable. So much so, indeed, that it is not without the bounds of possibility that the spread of agriculture may at some future period receive a check in favour of the purely pastoral industry. For the wheat and maize-producing lands are considerably in excess of those that raise cattle in sufficient quantities for serious export. Fresh areas suitable for wheat-growing, moreover, are continually being lit upon, whereas the discovery of new grazing lands is obviously more limited. It is true that our own colony of Rhodesia promises to take an important share in the cattle-breeding industry--a promise the fulfilment of which may be anticipated with confidence. With this exception, the countries of the River Plate will undoubtedly hold the balance of power in all matters appertaining to that very, very important article beef. In addition to that of the carcasses themselves, another very important product of Uruguay is the extract of meat produced by the Liebig (Lemco) Company. Fray Bentos was the original home of this industry, with which the place has been associated since 1865. Of late years the Lemco interests have spread far beyond their original frontiers, for of the total of nearly five million acres at present owned by the concern many hundred thousands of acres exist in Argentina, Paraguay, and even in Rhodesia. As a matter of fact, the working power of the recently constructed factory at Colón in Entre Rios, upon the Argentine bank of the river, exceeds that of Fray Bentos. Nevertheless, the importance of this latter place will be evident enough when it is explained that in 1910 over one hundred and seventy-nine thousand head of cattle were slaughtered there in order to provide the necessary extract of meat. The Lemco town of Fray Bentos is by way of being a model specimen of its kind. The establishments of the managers here, and the dwellings of the workmen are each admirable of their kind, and very replete with the comforts and luxuries that appertain to the various walks of life. The streets, moreover, are broad and well-engineered, and the schools and various institutions denote a liberal spirit on the part of the directors of the concern. To turn from the meat industry to that of agriculture, we come, naturally enough, to a far less imposing condition of affairs, but one, nevertheless, that is increasing in importance each year. The chief cereal of Uruguay is wheat. At the present moment nearly three hundred thousand hectares have been devoted to the raising of this crop. Although the discovery of fresh lands suitable to the production of wheat has caused this particular area to increase, the main centres in cultivation up to the present have been rather strictly localised. The provinces that contain the really important wheat districts are those of San José, Colonia, and Canelones. The lines of railway, however, that have recently been constructed to the east and west of the Republic are opening up much land that is undoubtedly admirably suited for the production of this cereal. Wheat, it may be explained, is a crop the nature of which renders it more immune than the majority from the attacks of the voracious locust. By the time the all-devouring insect is wont to make its appearance, the ears of the wheat are as a rule hardened to a sufficient extent to render them unpalatable. Wheat therefore, frequently escapes, wholly or in part, where the maize crop suffers severely from the ravages of the locusts. The production of maize is only very slightly less than that of wheat. The yield of this commodity in 1909 amounted roughly to one hundred and seventy thousand tons, while that of wheat fell just below two hundred and thirty-four thousand tons. Generally speaking, it may be said that the districts where wheat is grown are suitable for the cultivation of maize, and thus in Uruguay the two are wont to flourish to a large extent side by side. It is worthy of note, however, that whereas the wheat area has remained more or less stationary, although its development is now practically certain, that of maize has increased to a marked extent--from one hundred and forty-five thousand hectares, in fact, in 1900 to over two hundred thousand hectares in 1909. The production of oats and barley--although that of either still remains comparatively insignificant--has increased rapidly during the past decade. In 1900 the output of oats only just exceeded thirty tons, whereas in 1909 it had amounted to nearly seven thousand tons. Barley has a similar, although a somewhat more gradual, tale to tell, since in the corresponding period its production rose from four hundred to three thousand tons. CHAPTER XXV INDUSTRIES AND NATURAL WEALTH (_continued_) Minerals--Past obstacles to the proper working of mines--Gold--Auriferous prospects--Situation of the goldfields of Uruguay--Past and present workings of the mines--Influence of politics on labour--The Corrales mines--Manganese--Districts in which iron ore is met with--Mineral centres--Minas--Maldonado-- Silver--Copper--Marble--Gypsum--Slate--Sulphur--Asbestos--Precious stones--Diamonds and rubies--Jasper--Agate--The amethyst and topaz--The water-stone--A peculiarity of Uruguay--Viticulture-- Date of the introduction of the vine--Vicissitudes at the start-- Subsequent rapid progress--Vineyard area of the present day--The introduction of suitable plants--Countries of origin--Production of grapes and wine--Departments most suitable to the industry--The seal fisheries--Originally carried on by the Indians--Habits of the seals--Development of the industry--Government grants--Conditions and concessions--Number of skins obtained since 1873--Islands inhabited by the seals--Method of killing and curing--Waste of seal life--Suggestions for the improvement of the industry-- Scientific measures necessary--A diplomatic incident in connection with the seal fisheries. It is quite possible that Uruguayan minerals may yet cause something of a sensation throughout the world. In the past her deposits of the kind have lain comparatively undisturbed, owing to similar reasons that have hampered the industry in Peru and Bolivia--want of transport facilities. With the rapid spread of the railways, however, these disadvantages will shortly become minimised, when no doubt considerably more will be heard of the mineral wealth of the country. Let it be clear that I am not making the following remarks in the character of a mining expert. The latter profession, according to vulgar report, is at times not averse to fiction; but the gap that separates an author from a goldfield is uncomfortably wide. This apparently frivolous foreword is not altogether uncalled for, since to speak with undue optimism of the presence of the yellow dross is dangerous to the layman writer, and profitable only to the expert. Nevertheless, the auriferous prospects of Uruguay, so far as such can ever be assured, give no small promise of success. The chief goldfields of Uruguay lie in the northern province of Rivera, and are situated in the neighbourhoods of Corrales, Cuñapiru, and Zapucaya. A district here of from thirty-five to forty miles in length and of about seven miles in breadth is thickly interwoven with auriferous reef. The knowledge of the wealth in this particular spot is no new thing, as ancient superficial workings on the part of the Indians prove. From that time the mines had apparently fallen into disuse until comparatively recent years, when they were in a sense rediscovered by a French company. The concern, it is true, met with a consistent lack of prosperity. The actual working is said to have been carried on in a fashion that was both half-hearted and old-fashioned. The period, moreover, was a peculiarly disturbed one from a political point of view, and the province of Rivera has always been famed as the birthplace and chosen haunt of revolutionary movements. An English company, however, has now assumed control of the mines, a modern plant is at work, and gold is actually being yielded. Such are the bare historical facts of the chief mines at Corrales. According to the experts, reefs have been met with that will yield five ounces to the ton, and, should the reefs prove deep, the prospects are practically limitless. But this remains to be seen. In the meanwhile the earth has promised! But its promises, like its crust in parts, are sometimes of pielike material. In this case, should the anticipations be realised, there will be no little stir in the province of Rivera--and elsewhere. In the neighbourhood of these mines are enormous deposits of manganese that are just now beginning to attract special attention. The quantities of iron, too, that are to be met with here are rather exceptional. Rivera, however, constitutes by no means the sole mineral district of Uruguay. The provinces of Minas, Artigas, Maldonado, Salto, Paysandú, Montevideo, and San José are all more or less well endowed with the various species. Of these remaining centres Minas is probably the richest. Traces of gold are to be met with here, although in a minor degree, and silver, copper, marble, gypsum, slate, sulphur, and asbestos would probably all repay organised handling. Minas also produces lead, but this, too, has suffered from considerable neglect. Indeed, I believe that one of the very few ransackings of the mines that have occurred was for the purpose of manufacturing bullets for the armies during the revolutionary and civil wars at the beginning of the nineteenth century. The province of Maldonado contains copper, iron, marble, gypsum, sulphur, and slate, and here, too, the mineral field has remained almost unexploited up to the present. Montevideo holds manganese and iron, Salto copper, Florida iron, Paysandú copper, and San José asbestos. These, at all events, constitute the principal centres of the minerals specified, although there are others of comparative insignificance in many other districts. Uruguay, too, is by no means without its precious stones. Odd rubies and diamonds have been met with from time to time, and the jasper and agate are fairly common. The stones, however, that obtain in really considerable numbers, and that are consequently of the chief commercial interest, are the amethyst and the topaz. Of both these some magnificent specimens are to be met with in the Province of Artigas. These very handsome stones are now attaining a distinct popularity amongst the visitors to Montevideo. To those who have not the opportunity of visiting the remote province of Artigas itself, it may be mentioned that Agosto Wild, in the Calle Veinte Cinco de Mayo in Montevideo, is a most trustworthy and reliable dealer. A peculiarity of Uruguay is the water-stone that is met with in the neighbourhood of Salto. This consists of a rounded portion of stone, more or less knobbly and opaque or smooth and transparent as the case may be. In the latter the water that is enclosed within it is almost as plainly seen as though it were held within rather dull glass, and with every movement of the crystal-like material the motion and bubblings of the water are very clearly evident. There have been some mental gymnastics ere now concerning the advent of the apple within the dumpling: but the presence of this water within the stone suffices to puzzle the more scientific minds. So far as I am aware, no adequate explanation of the phenomenon has yet been vouchsafed. Viticulture is one of the more recent industries of Uruguay. It has now, however, obtained a firm hold, and the future of the commerce is distinctly promising. It was as late as 1860 that the first tentative plantings of the vine occurred, and it was not until 1875 that a couple of really important vineyards were established, one at Colon and the other at Salto, in the north-west of the republic. Even then the undertaking did not meet with immediate success, and it was some while ere the type of plant was discovered that would lead to the most favourable results in the local soil. This, however, once discovered, the progress of viticulture has proceeded almost without a check. The rapidity of its increase may be gathered from the following figures. In 1880 the number of vineyards in Uruguay was 16; in 1890, 181; whereas in 1895 the total had swollen to 748. Since that time the industry has continued to spread. Thus in 1897 the vineyards had increased in number to 824, while in 1905 the viticultural census showed the very respectable total of 1,453. It is only natural that this great increase in vineyards should have been accompanied by the introduction of a greater variety of suitable plants. The types of vines that now flourish in Uruguay hail from France, Italy, Spain, Portugal, and Germany, the importance of the various kinds being in accordance with the seniority rendered them in order here. Of the French species introduced the most popular are the Sauvignon, Cabernet, Pinot Noir, Castel, Merlot, Verdot, Semillon, Sauvignon blanc, Clairette blanche, and some half-dozen others; of the Italian the Piamonte, Grignolino Negro, Asprino, Docetto, Leonarda, Lambrusca, Cipro Negro, and Verdea. The favourite Spanish varieties are the Cariñana, Morrastel Bouchet, Murviedo, Malvosia Blanca, Pedro Ximinez, while from Portugal have been introduced the black and the white grape, and from Germany the Riesling. The cultivation of the vineyards is attended by the greatest expense in the south of the country, where the comparatively humid climate lends itself more readily to the propagation of the various diseases to which the vine is subject. Here the American grape, owing to its immunity from phyloxera in a great degree, flourishes admirably. The departments in which viticulture is chiefly carried on are at Montevideo, that possesses a vineyard area of 1,426 hectares; Salto, 719 hectares; Canelones, 699 hectares; Colonia, 490 hectares; Maldonado, 330 hectares; Paysandú, 177 hectares; Florida, 132 hectares; Soriano, 125 hectares; and Artigas, 97 hectares. In the remaining departments the viticultural industry is of small account. The later increase in the actual production of grapes and wine will be evident from the following table: -------------+---------------------+------------------- | Kilos of Grapes. | Litres of Wine. -------------+---------------------+------------------- 1904 | 16,387,738 | 10,458,119 1905 | 20,304,850 | 11,569,314 1906 | 16,408,077 | 9,469,674 1907 | 19,385,569 | 11,461,817 1908 | 28,753,259 | 18,563,496 -------------+---------------------+------------------- The sealing industry of Uruguay is of considerably greater importance than is generally supposed. Mr. C. E. R. Rowland, the British Consul at Montevideo, is the leading English authority on the subject. The following article, then, which he has kindly supplied, may be taken as authoritative: * * * * * The aboriginal races of this part of South America were known to have resorted to the coast-line during the summer months for their fishing expeditions, the Indian race of the Charrúas occupying the coastline from above the river town of Colonia to the borders of the Brazilian frontier at al Chue, on the Atlantic. Traces of their encampment grounds are still to be found along this coast, principally from Maldonado to the Brazilian frontier, where many of their primitive weapons and utensils are still to be met with, and also the remains of what must have been their watch-fires, mounds of burnt bones, containing amongst the rest bones and teeth of seals which crumble under touch. This coast in these former times evidently abounded in seal life, as the natural conditions offered every attraction to these now timid animals. A storm-beaten coast, with plentiful havens, in the mouth of a large estuary abounding with fish, enticed the seals to the shore and made them an easy prey to the Indians, but time has driven them to the present rookeries which now afford them protection. The first record of the sealing industry on the coast of Uruguay having been put to practical purposes is that in the year 1834 they were rented by the Government for the period of ten years to Señor Francisco Aguilar for the sum of $80,000. The condition was imposed that he should erect a suitable edifice to be used as a public school in the town of Maldonado. This latter condition was altered insomuch that the building, when completed, was used as a chapel, and has remained so ever since. [Illustration: A SEAL ROOKERY.] [Illustration: BASKING SEALS. To face p. 292.] From the termination of this contract up to the year 1858 this industry was worked by various tenants, but in this latter year the Government passed a Law imposing a tax of 20 centavos per skin and 4 centavos per 10 kilos of seal oil, to be paid in equal proportions to the municipalities of Maldonado and Rocha Departments, on whose coasts the islands are situated. A further Law in the year 1896 doubled these taxes, which were destined by the said Law to be applied by the municipal authorities to the public works and the creation of artificial parks. The following tables will show the number of skins produced from these islands since the year 1873: Year. Skins. 1873 8,190 1874 9,449 1875 9,204 1876 11,353 1877 11,066 1878 14,493 1879 14,093 1880 16,382 1881 14,473 1882 13,595 1883 12,483 1884 14,872 1885 12,245 1886 17,072 1887 17,788 1888 21,150 1889 15,700 1890 20,150 1891 13,871 1892 15,870 1893 14,779 1894 20,763 1895 17,471 _____________|__________________ | | Island Coronilla Island Lobos 1896 11,096 12,543 1897 9,091 10,143 1898 8,908 8,778 1899 9,339 7,796 1900 8,983 9,845 1901 8,023 8,215 1902 9,785 11,468 1903 5,899 7,929 1904 5,114 5,765 1905 2,246 3,387 1906 4,871 7,212 1907 2,880 7,612 The islands inhabited by seals on the coast of Uruguay are: Castillos Rocks 4 small islands Polonio 3 " Paloma 2 " Lobos 2 " The Castillos Rocks are very difficult of access on account of the heavy swell breaking on them. The Polonio group consists of three small islands lying directly off the cape of same name, and are called Raza, Encantado, and De Marco. The sealers' huts and boiling-house are on the mainland in a small bay to the north-east of the lighthouse. The seals when killed on these islands are skinned with the inside lining of fat attached and are brought on shore, when the inside lining of fat is taken off and boiled down. The dead carcasses are left on the island, and in my opinion the presence of so many dead seals destroyed by human agency must have some effect upon those animals frequenting these islands, making them wary and cautious in returning again to a place where the remains of their companions are so visible. Coronilla Islands consist of two large islands, covered with herbage, and one small "_islote_," or reef, generally awash with the sea. On the largest of these islands the sealers live during the season for the purpose of salting the skins and boiling down the carcass of the seals for oil. At the end of the season the skins and oil are brought into Montevideo by tug-boats. On Lobos Islands the killing is carried out in a different manner. A large corral is erected on the middle of the island, and, when seals are plentiful and the wind and weather are specially favourable, a drive is made by about fifty men with clubs, who, getting between the seals and the sea, drive them gently towards the corral. This is done without much difficulty, and perhaps two thousand may be enclosed in one day. Once enclosed they are allowed to wait until all preparations for killing are complete. They are then driven out in batches of twenty or thirty to the skinning-shed and boiler-house, where they are dispatched at leisure. By this mode of killing I am inclined to think that there must be a great waste of seal life from an absence of a proper knowledge as regards the animal killed. No selection is made from those driven down, and every animal is killed even if the skin is worthless or mangy. The majority of the animals slaughtered are females, consequently the stock of production is gradually lessened. Were a skilled sealer employed for the proper classification of the animals before killing, it would do away to some extent with the extermination of seals whose skins at that season were practically worthless. On the Paloma Islands very few seals are killed. The seizure of the Canadian schooner _Agnes G. Donohoe_ in the year 1905 on the alleged grounds of sealing in jurisdictional waters--that is, within the three miles limit--caused the intervention of the British Government. The master and men were under arrest for a period of ten months, but the case, diplomatically handled at that time by her Majesty's Representative, Mr. Walter Baring (Minister), and Mr. Robert Peel (Chargé d'Affaires), was finally settled with satisfaction to both Governments by the tactful procedure of his Majesty's present Representative, Mr. Robert J. Kennedy, Minister Plenipotentiary and Envoy Extraordinary. CHAPTER XXVI COMMUNICATION AND COMMERCE British enterprise in South America--The various industries controlled--The railways of the Southern continent--A remarkable record--The opening up of new lands--Some possibilities of the future--Sound basis on which the extension of the lines is founded--Products and transport facilities--Probable influence of communications--Uruguayan railways--A high standard of enterprise--Comfortable travelling--Some comparisons between Uruguay and Argentina as railway countries--Level country _versus_ hills--Stone _versus_ alluvial soil--Questions of ballast--Importance of the new ramifications--Railway construction in Uruguay--History of the lines--Government obligations--Mileage and capital of the companies--Interest paid on capital--Various railway systems--Areas served--The Central Company--Sketch of lines and extensions--Important developments--The communication with Brazil--Financial position of the Company--Midland Uruguay Railway--Development and extension of the line--Receipts and expenses--The North Western of Uruguay and Uruguay Northern Railway--Montevidean tramways--Local, British, and German enterprise--Steamer service of the River Plate--The Mihanovich line--Ocean passenger traffic--Montevideo the sole port of call--The Royal Mail Steam Packet Company--The Pacific Line--The Nelson Line--Other British companies--Position of British exports--Sound consular advice. British enterprise throughout South America is admittedly remarkable. If one except the retail and local trades that are carried on by the native-born inhabitants of each republic, or by the Spaniards, Basques, Italians, and Turks, each of which have taken some particular trade under their own protection, there is probably not a single branch of industry in which the British are not interested in a more or less important degree. From mining and banking to farming and general commerce, the scope is sufficiently broad. In no other kind of enterprise, however, has intelligence and skill been so freely lavished as upon that of the railways. The British have not the sole monopoly of these great undertakings, it is true. There are the local Government lines, numerous French railways, and others of various nationalities that are ably served and administered. Yet almost every one of the most important lines throughout the entire Southern continent owes its existence to British capital, and is managed by British officials. The record is a remarkable one, and the full tale of its magnitude has yet to be written. It is true that in many branches of industry the ratio of British increase has not been in proportion with that of other countries--a falling off that may be inevitable, but that in any case is regrettable. Fortunately, this is not the case with the railways. Indeed, when the progress that is now being made is taken into consideration, it becomes evident that the results that must ensue within the space of a few years cannot well fail to affect the entire world. Of the feats of this kind that are at the present moment being achieved some of the most important are concerned with Bolivia, Paraguay, and the hinterland of Brazil. The opening up of many of the hitherto inaccessible regions of these countries means more than the enclosing within the fold of civilisation vast areas of rubber, timber, and general agriculture. It promises, in fact, some revelations in the way of minerals and mines that, although the possibility of a disappointment must never be lost sight of, are likely enough to prove of an astonishing nature. The tales of gold in the untravelled lands where the Indian still holds sway do undoubtedly not emanate merely from the imagination of the few travellers who have penetrated within certain of the districts. The reluctance of the aboriginal to disclose the spots from which they derive the precious metal is an acknowledged phase of his character. But it is not solely upon the unwilling testimony of the Indians that such hopes are based. It is well enough known that when the expulsion of the Jesuits occurred, and when many of the remoter districts in which they had established precarious missions returned to a state of savagery and seclusion, numbers of the mines that were even then known were abandoned when in the full flush of their yield--a yield that the primitive native implements could never make complete. But it is not in anticipation of such developments as these that the railways have been built. The ordinary products of the countries in question are more than sufficient to demand their existence. The possibility of greater mineral fields than are at present suspected is merely a side issue in the general scheme. The influence of steam transport, however, upon many of the silver-mines cannot fail to be marked, since the utter want of transport facilities now renders imperative an astonishing number of mines of this kind the productive power of which is very great indeed. The Uruguayan railways form no exception to the prevailing South American rule. The three companies in existence in that Republic are all British, and the standard of each is as high as that of the others in the remaining republics. Although the enterprises naturally enjoy lesser advantages in the way of skilled labour and technical conveniences than those here at home, there can be no doubt that the degree of comfort enjoyed by the traveller on a Uruguayan line compares very favourably with that experienced on an average British railway. The service and observation of punctuality are both to be commended, while the dining and sleeping cars are not only admirable of their type, but extremely well adapted to the needs of the country. The natural facilities that the Uruguayan country offers for railways differ considerably from those of the Argentine. In the central provinces of the latter many hundreds of miles may be travelled without any gradient whatever becoming apparent. The absence of streams here, moreover, obviates almost entirely the necessity for bridge building. It has already been explained that the characteristics of the Uruguayan Campo are entirely different. Although it possesses few hills of any really imposing height, its stretches of dead level ground are equally rare. Thus, although the gradients may be gentle and sufficiently easy, they are almost continuous. In some places, moreover, the rise and fall of the line is necessarily accentuated, and even abrupt--at all events, compared with the neighbouring areas. Although, however, Uruguay may not be quite so favourably situated for railway purposes as regards its levels, it possesses one very important advantage over Argentina. In the central and richest provinces of the latter one of the most serious drawbacks lies in the total absence of any local material with which to ballast the track. For hundreds of miles on all sides no stone--not even the merest pebble--is to be met with, since the land consists of nothing beyond the rich, alluvial soil. Thus, if stone be required for the perfection of the tracks, it is necessary to import it from afar, and the haulage of the material inevitably forms a weighty item in the cost and upkeep of the line. In this respect Uruguay is far more favourably provided for. Stone abounds, not only in certain districts but throughout the country--although, of course, there are many centres where the quality of the material is far superior to that of others. Thus the question of ballast and embankments is solved in a very simple fashion here, and in a land of numerous rivers and streams the construction of stone bridges is made possible. As regards the present position of Uruguayan railways, it is impossible to over-estimate the importance of the new ramifications that are now spreading through the country. Uruguay contains no mysterious hinterland, it is true. But, although every corner of the Republic is known, the resources of many of its regions have of necessity remained quite untapped for want of the railway communication that was essential for the transport of the produce in whatever shape or form it might emerge from the soil. I am indebted to Mr. V. Hinde, the secretary of the Midland Uruguay Railway, for the following information concerning the railways of the country: * * * * * The construction of railways in Uruguay may be said to have commenced in the year 1866, when a concession was granted for a line from the capital (Montevideo) to Durazno, a distance of 130 miles. The construction of this line was followed by the building of a short line from the city of Salto towards the frontier of Brazil. In 1877 an English company, the present Central Uruguay Railway Co., Ltd., was formed to take over the former and complete the line to the town of Rio Negro, which extension was finished in 1886. In the meantime the Uruguayan Government had devoted considerable attention to the question of railways, and in the year 1884 a law was passed by the Chambers embodying a definite scheme of railway communication with various parts of the Republic, the executive being authorised to contract for lines as outlined, and to guarantee an income equal to £560 per annum per mile of line for a period of forty years. A result of this enactment was the formation of several companies in England, and railway construction was rapidly proceeded with. By the year 1891, 1,000 miles of line were opened for traffic. In respect of which some 670 miles enjoyed the Government guarantee, equal to 7 per cent. on a capitalisation of £5,000 per kilometre. At this point, however, further development received a check by the Government finding it necessary to rearrange its obligations. This rearrangement took the form of a reduction of the interest on the External Debt, including railway guarantees, from 7 per cent. to 3-1/2 per cent., the service at this reduced figure being secured on 45 per cent. of the Custom House receipts specially hypothecated. Punctual payment of guarantees at this rate has always been made. In 1889 the Central Uruguay Western Extension Railway Company was formed to construct a line from San José to the towns of Mercedes, Sauce, and Colonia. This line does not enjoy a Government guarantee, and reverts to the Government in the year 1862. The railway system of the Republic to-day amounts to some 1,432 miles of line opened for traffic and 78 miles in course of construction. The following shows the capital of the respective companies and length of lines: --------------------------------------------+-------+--------------------- |Mileage| Capital. | Open. | £ --------------------------------------------+-------+--------------------- Central Uruguay Railway, including Western | | Extension and North Eastern of Uruguay | | } Worked Railway Co., Ltd. | 482 | 5,403,018 } by Central Uruguay Eastern Extension Co., | | } Central Ltd. | 277 | 2,033,400 } Uruguay Central Uruguay Northern Extension Co., | | } Railway Ltd. | 182 | 1,627,150 } Co. Midland Uruguay Railway Co., Ltd. | 229 | 2,378,462 North Western of Uruguay Railway Co., Ltd. | 111 | 1,435,517 Uruguay Northern Railway Co., Ltd. | 73 | 855,562 Uruguay East Coast Railway | 78 | 309,980 +-------+--------------------- Total |1,432 |14,044,089 --------------------------------------------+-------+--------------------- The amount of interest, &c., paid on the above capital may be seen in the table on the following page, which is equal to rather over 4-1/5 per cent. on the whole capital of £13,444,089. The railway system of Uruguay may be said to be represented by the following companies: The Central Uruguay Railway and its allied lines. The Midland Uruguay System, which joins that of the Central and forms a means of communication with the cities of Paysandú and Salto, with a branch to the town of Fray Bentos, now almost completed. The North Western of Uruguay, continuing the railway from Salto to the frontier of Brazil at Cuareim. In addition there are the short lines in the nature of branches--that of the Northern Uruguay Railway Company, branching from the North-Western system at Isla de Cabellos connecting with the frontier of Brazil at San Eugenio; and the Uruguay East Coast Railway from a junction with the North-Eastern Uruguay system at Olmos to Maldonado, a distance of seventy-eight miles. ------------+-------------------------------------+----------+--------- £ | Interest paid on Capital. | Per Cent.| £ ------------+-------------------------------------+----------+--------- 2,000,000 | Central Uruguay Ordinary Stock | 5 | 100,000 400,000 | " " Preference Shares | 5-1/2 | 22,000 953,018 | " " Debenture Stock | 6 | 57,181 1,000,000 | " " Western Railway | | | Extension Debenture | 4 | 40,000 250,000 | Central Uruguay 2nd Debenture Stock | 6 | 15,000 400,000 | North Eastern of Uruguay Preference | | | Shares | 7 | 28,000 400,000 | North Eastern of Uruguay Ordinary | | | Shares | 7 | 28,000 775,000 | Central Uruguay Railway Eastern | | | Extension Ordinary Shares | 3-3/4 | 29,062 775,000 | Central Uruguay Railway Eastern | | | Extension Preference Shares | 5 | 38,750 483,400 | Central Uruguay Railway Eastern | | | Extension Debenture Stock | 5 | 24,170 1,000,000 | Central Uruguay Railway Northern | | | Extension Ordinary Shares | 3-3/4 | 37,500 627,150 | Central Uruguay Railway Northern | | | Extension Debenture Stock | 5 | 31,357 600,000 | Midland Uruguay Railway Ordinary | | | Stock | nil | ---- 600,000 | Midland Uruguay Railway Prior Lien | | | Debenture Stock | 5 | 300,000 1,179,462 | Midland Uruguay Railway Debenture | | | Stock | 5 | 58,973 120,120 | North Western of Uruguay Ordinary | | | Stock | nil | ---- 293,172 | North Western of Uruguay 2nd | | | Preference Stock | nil | ---- 583,850 | North Western of Uruguay 1st | | | Preference Stock | 2 | 11,677 400,000 | North Western of Uruguay 1st | | | Debenture Stock | 6 | 24,000 38,375 | North Western of Uruguay 2nd | | | Debenture Stock | 6 | 2,302 100,000 | Uruguay Northern Railway Ordinary | | | Shares | nil | ---- 250,000 | Uruguay Northern Railway Preference | | | Stock | 1 | 2,500 449,400 | Uruguay Northern Railway Debenture | | | Stock | 3-1/2 | 15,729 56,162 | Uruguay Northern Railway Prior Lien | | | Debenture Stock | 5 | 2,808 125,000 | Uruguay East Coast Railway Ordinary | | | Shares | nil | ---- 184,980 | Uruguay East Coast Railway | | | Debenture Stock | nil | ---- ------------+-------------------------------------| |--------- £14,044,089 | | | £599,009 ------------+-------------------------------------+----------+--------- _Central Company._--By far the most important system is that of the Central Company, including leased and worked lines. The lines of this system extend from the capital to the frontier of Brazil at Rivera, with branches to the city of Mercedes in the west, and the towns of Melo, Treinta y Tres, and Minas on the Eastern and North-Eastern Extension. The railway from the capital passes through a well-populated agricultural district for a radius of about thirty miles; this radius is gradually extending, stimulated by the increasing importance of Montevideo and the gradual breaking up of lands in the fertile regions of the western and eastern extensions. The extension now finished to Melo opens up another district suitable to the cultivation of cereals, from which considerable traffic is being derived. An extremely important matter in connection with the future development of these lines, and, in fact, all the railway interests of the Republic, is to be found in the completion of the port works at Montevideo. Until the port works were taken in hand the embarkation of cargo at this principal outlet of the Republic had been greatly hampered by natural difficulties, and consequently heavy charges in connection with the lighterage from the railway wharf to the ocean steamers. The deepening of the inner port and the construction of extensive wharfs and piers at which ocean steamers can berth will doubtless lead to an increase in traffic, not only from Uruguay but the neighbouring State of Rio Grande do Sul. An important connection with the railway system of Rio Grande do Sul is made at the terminus of the Central Uruguay Northern Extension Railway at Rivera, and by the completion of a connecting link between the Sao Paulo Rio Grande Railway System and the lines of the Cie Auxiliare de Chemins de Fer au Bresil, a Company which controls practically the whole railway system of the State of Rio Grande do Sul (now almost completed), direct railway communication will be established between Montevideo and Rio de Janeiro. The following table shows the result of working of the Central Uruguay Main Line, exclusive of extensions, which, as far as expansion in receipts is concerned, may be regarded as indicative of those lines: -------------------------------------------------------- Year. | Receipts. | Expenses. | Profit. | Dividend. | --------------------------------------------------------| | | | | Per Cent. | 1904-5 | 414,228 | 190,165 | 223,572 | 4-1/2 | 1905-6 | 442,083 | 212,465 | 229,618 | 5 | 1906-7 | 493,682 | 244,922 | 248,760 | 5 | 1907-8 | 508,044 | 272,104 | 235,940 | 4-1/2 | 1908-9 | 557,122 | 287,505 | 269,617 | 4-1/2 | 1909-10| 577,489 | 287,959 | 289,530 | 5 | -------------------------------------------------------- The increase in gross receipts is perhaps not quite so marked as in the case of neighbouring lines in the Argentine Republic, and a reason for this is to be found in the fact that, favoured by magnificent grazing camps, cattle raising is still the principal industry of Uruguay. Agricultural development, although more marked of recent years, has been slow, but an increase in this is probably due to efforts which are being made by the Government to promote colonisation and the extension of lines in the Eastern provinces. _Midland Uruguay Railway._--This Company's line passes through an entirely pastoral district, and its traffic is principally derived from the carriage of cattle, wool, and general merchandise. An important extension is now practically completed to Fray Bentos, the headquarters of Liebig's Extract of Meat Company. The River Uruguay at this point is navigable for large ocean steamers, and a pier has been erected to accommodate these, which will put the railway system of the north of the Republic in a more favourable position to handle the various products of cattle-killing establishments, both in Uruguay and on the Brazilian side of the frontier of Rio Grande do Sul, an industry of increasing importance. ------------------------------------------------------------- Year. | Gross Receipts. | Expenses. | Profit. | Dividend. | -------------------------------------------------------------| 1905-6 | 60,533 | 50,304 | 10,229 | | 1906-7 | 75,887 | 60,833 | 15,054 | | 1907-8 | 72,172 | 67,153 | 5,019 | | 1908-9 | 81,503 | 71,114 | 10,389 | | 1909-10 | 88,165 | 67,479 | 20,686 | | ------------------------------------------------------------- At the present time a considerable tonnage is transported by river from Salto for shipment from Buenos Aires. It is possible, therefore, that the extension of the Midland Company to Fray Bentos will play an important part in the development of its line and those of the companies north of Salto, and Fray Bentos should very shortly become the second port of the Republic. The receipts in Uruguay of the Midland Company have shown some expansion of late years, having increased from £55,000 in the year ending June 30, 1904, to £88,165 in 1909-10 (see opposite page). _The North-Western of Uruguay Railway and Uruguay Northern Railway._--The remarks with regard to the nature of the country and the traffic of the Midland apply also to these lines. At the terminus of the North-Western Line at the River Cuareim arrangements exist for the interchange of traffic with the Brazil Great Southern Railway, and the respective Governments have sanctioned a project for the construction of an international bridge to connect the lines at this point. It is probable that this bridge will be constructed within the next few years, as the interchange of traffic due to the extension of the Brazil Great Southern Railway to San Borju is likely to be considerably enhanced. The excellent tramways with which Montevideo is served are administered by three companies, local, British, and German. The local enterprise is considerably the smallest of the three, the extent of its lines not exceeding twelve miles. The concern, moreover, is dependent solely upon horse traction, with its attendant disadvantages. The British enterprise, the United Electric Tramway Company, is the most important in the capital. It possesses eighty-two miles of line, 195 passenger-cars, and sixty-eight trailers. By the terms of the concession at least two-thirds of the employees must be citizens of the country. The Compania Alemania Transatlantia is a German Company, with a length of seventy-five miles of electric tramlines. The steamer service of the River Plate and Uruguay is almost entirely in the hands of the Mihanovich Company, as, indeed, is that of the entire system of these great rivers. The Company is an extremely powerful one, possessing a very large fleet that comprises all classes of steam vessels from the small, puffing tug to the largest and most modern liner of the fresh waters. Many of these latter are peculiarly fine specimens of their type, graceful in build, powerfully equipped, and provided with broad and roomy decks. Although the larger of these craft will carry between two and three hundred passengers, the cabin and saloon accommodation is contrived on a most liberal and imposing scale. Indeed, there is no doubt that the Mihanovich boats are a credit to the broad rivers on which they float. So far as the ocean passenger traffic is concerned, Montevideo is the sole Uruguayan port at which the liners call. The capital affords a port of call for the magnificent vessels of the Royal Mail Steam Packet Company that, notwithstanding their size, are now enabled by means of the recent harbour improvements to enter the inner waters of the port. Of the other British lines concerned, the most important are the Pacific (that is now incorporated with the R.M.S.P.) and the Nelson Line, that possesses a fine new fleet of ten-thousand-ton boats. The other great British shipping companies whose vessels call at Montevideo are the Lamport and Holt, Houlder, Prince, Houston, the New Zealand Shipping Company, and the Shaw, Savill. Thus it will be seen that in all monumental undertakings of the kind the British are holding their own in a satisfactory fashion. As regards ordinary commerce and the exports of manufactured goods, the progress, unfortunately, is by no means so evident. I have so frequently laid stress upon the narrowness of the home commercial ideas in this respect that still obtains in so many quarters that I am glad to be able to quote the words of another that admirably fit the case. The following is from the Consular Report on Uruguay issued in 1910, and the sentences undoubtedly sum up the situation with a commendable accuracy: "It has been pointed out to me that careful investigation into the commercial methods of our competitors reveals several reasons why British trade has failed to retain the proportion of the imports it held a few years ago. For instance, greater attention to detail is paid by the foreign merchant than by his British rival, who, as a rule, adheres in catalogues and invoices to British standard weights and measures and prices, without giving their equivalent in terms of the country. In tenders for public works German firms study the specifications with minute care, and tender for every item, leaving nothing in doubt, besides drawing up their applications in so clear and simple a manner as to give the minimum labour in examination, and the maximum of facility in comparison to the authorities who deal with them; whereas British tenderers sometimes merely quote a lump sum, ignoring all details, and often, when details are given, the price of many items is left vague, 'As may be agreed upon.' When goods are imported into the country from Germany, France, the United States of America, &c., a detailed statement in Spanish of the contents of each package is generally furnished, with metric weights and measures, which facilitates their rapid examination and dispatch, whereas British firms as a rule content themselves with the brief statement, 'Case containing machinery' or 'hardware,' &c., leaving to the Custom House official the task of working out details and calculations. "Then, again, as regards languages, the British commercial traveller, armed with British catalogues and price lists [although I note with pleasure that some are now printed in Spanish], knows no language but his own, but the German invariably speaks Spanish and English, and he has carefully studied beforehand the needs of the market which he is visiting and the financial position of merchants. This gives him a great advantage over his British rival, who rarely has previous knowledge of his would-be customers, and is dependent on such chance information as he may pick up to be subsequently confirmed by inquiries at the banks. Time is thus lost, and irritation is caused to respectable buyers, who resent what appears to them impertinent suspicion." CHAPTER XXVII POLITICS AND REVOLUTIONS The Constitution of Uruguay--Government of the Republic--Deputies and senators--Their duties--The Civil Code--Marriage--Rights of foreigners--Law--The Commission of Charity and Public Welfare--Hospitals--Orphan asylums--Infirmaries--The charity hospital lottery--The distribution of political parties--The Colorados and the Blancos--Policy of both--Feud between the parties--Old-standing strife--Explanation of the nomenclature--Origin of the feud--Rivera and Oribe--Inherited views--Attitude of the foreigners--Revolutions--Manner of their outbreak--Government precautions--The need of finance and arms--Some rebellious devices--Rifles as Manchester goods--The importance of horses--Difficulties that attend a revolutionary movement--The sweeping up of horses--Equine concentration camps--A powerful weapon in the hands of the authorities--First signs of an outbreak--Sylvan rendezvous--The question of reinforcements--Some desperate ventures--Their accustomed end--Chieftains of the north--Effect of a revolution upon local industries--Needs of the army--Estancia hands as troopers--Hasty equipment--Manner in which actual hostilities are conducted--"The Purple Land that England lost"--The spirit of modernism and the internal struggle--Tendency to localise the fields of strife--Power of the Colorado party--Whence the respective partisans are drawn--Distinguishing insignia--Some necessary precautions on the part of the foreigner--Adventures derived from colour in clothes--Some ludicrous episodes--The expense of revolution. The Constitution of Uruguay has now stood the test of eighty years, and thus claims to be the oldest in South America, or, at all events, the one that has suffered no modification for the longest period of time. The basis on which this is composed is liberal in the extreme, and the laws undoubtedly concede to Oriental subjects an amount of freedom that can be surpassed in few other countries. The Republic possesses two chambers, one of deputies elected by the direct vote of the people, the other of senators. In addition to their legislative functions it is the duty of these chambers to elect the President of the nation, whose term of office lasts for four years. The chambers also nominate the judges of the High Court, who, in turn, select the magistrates of the lower courts. The civil code is largely based upon the Napoleonic model. It may be as well to note rapidly a few of its more salient features. From the point of view of the resident foreigner it is admirable in at least one respect, since it makes no distinction between the civil rights accorded to Uruguayans and those to foreigners. Civil marriage is obligatory, the offspring of a union contracted solely by the Church being considered illegitimate. In commerce the system of arrest for debt is not admitted, the only cases of the kind in which imprisonment is imposed being those in which an element of fraud has entered. In criminal law the death penalty has been abolished, and the various modes of punishment consist of solitary imprisonment, exile, deprivations, suspension from public employment, ordinary imprisonment, and fines. On the whole, there is a satisfactory absence of red-tape in Uruguayan administrative and municipal affairs. It is true that in litigation the delays are occasionally lengthy; but the popular idea on this point has been much exaggerated, and the dispatch of legal business is far more satisfactory than is generally supposed. The great majority of officials, moreover, discharge their duties in a reasonable and fair-minded fashion that has been heartily acknowledged by many a resident foreigner. Uruguay possesses comparatively few paupers. Indeed, it would be strange were this otherwise in a land the resources of which are in excess of the population. Nevertheless a certain proportion of the lame, blind, halt, and indigent is inevitable, and these unfortunate human elements are well cared for. Public assistance towards this end is chiefly in the hands of a Commission of Charity and Public Welfare, formed of twenty-one members, two-thirds of whom must be citizens of the Republic. The powers of this Commission are considerable, and they control a number of important institutions, such as hospitals, orphan asylums, and establishments of refuge for the infirm, indigent, and insane. These are, almost without exception, exceedingly well-organised, and conducted on the most modern humanitarian lines. The financial support necessary for the upkeep of these charities is derived to a large extent from rates and taxes. In addition to this a special lottery has been instituted that is known as the "Charity Hospital Lottery." Twenty-five per cent. of its proceeds are devoted to the institution in question. The support at present derived from this source is not inconsiderable, as will be evident when it is explained that the amount it rendered in 1809 exceeded eight hundred thousand dollars. We now arrive at the political affairs of Uruguay--a subject that calls for explanation at some length. So far as the distribution of parties is concerned, the matter is simple enough. Shifting parties, fusions and splits between contending sections, and the general complications that attend changing political programmes are to all intents and purposes absent here. The rival parties of Uruguay are the Colorados (reds) and the Blancos (whites). The policy of both is equally well-defined, and, indeed, is amazingly simple. It is to govern! The national programme would almost certainly remain exactly the same whichever were in power. Thus the aim of the party that is "out" is to obtain power in the first place, and to declare their policy of government afterwards. The feud between the parties is one of old-standing. It commenced with the final wars of liberation, became strongly marked with the establishment of the Republic over eighty years ago, and has continued without intermission from that day to this. The origin of the party terms dates from the war of liberation. General Oribe was the founder of the Blanco party and General Rivera that of the Colorado. The former was wont to ride a white horse, the latter a bay, and the distinguishing colours of the lance pennons of their followers were respectively white and red. It is a little curious to consider that the present-day party strife in Uruguay is the direct legacy of the disputes between these two generals that broke out in the first instance ere the Banda Oriental had even been proclaimed a nation! In 1830 Rivera was elected first Constitutional President of the Republic; he was succeeded on March 1, 1835, by his rival, Manuel Oribe, and in 1838 there broke out what is known as the _Grande Guerra_, which lasted, with varying results, until 1852. In 1853 a triumvirate was formed, consisting of Rivera, Lavalleja, and Flores, and in the following year the last named, on the death of his two colleagues, was elected Constitutional President. Since that time there have been no less than twenty-three presidents, constitutional and provisional, of whom only two, Perreira and Berro, from 1856 to 1864, have been Blancos. In that year the Colorado party got into office, and have maintained themselves, in spite of the forcible efforts of the Blancos to expel them. It will be seen that no political principle divides the two parties; men are simply Blanco or Colorado because their fathers and grandfathers were so before them, but they cling to their respective parties with a strange courage and high sense of honour. In the case of foreign immigrants whose sons, born in the country, become Oriental subjects, but who have no Blanco or Colorado traditions to inherit, what happens is this: the youths go to school, form boyish friendships, and by pure accident become ardent supporters of one or other of the two parties. Two brothers may thus chance to become bitter political opponents, and when a revolution breaks out they are to be found fighting on opposite sides. The situation may savour a little of the Gilbertian, but it is sufficiently serious for the families involved. It must be admitted that many revolutions in Uruguay are curious affairs. To one not in close touch with the national movements an outbreak of the kind may appear to burst forth spontaneously, whereas it has probably been anticipated by the Government as well as by the revolutionaries for months beforehand. In these days even the most casual insurrection is not to be effected without a certain amount of forethought. First of all financial sinews are indispensable, and, these once obtained, it follows that a supply of arms is equally essential. The introduction of these is the most difficult feat of all to accomplish, since the Government adopts methods of precaution, and keeps a sharp look-out for any possible importations of the kind. Thus as a rule the weapons are either smuggled across the Brazilian frontier or over some of the more lonely stretches of the River Uruguay. Occasionally a device is tried similar to that which met with success in the Transvaal Colony previous to the South African War. When I was in Uruguay at the end of 1910 many indications were at hand that went to prove the imminence of a revolution, and the authorities, not only in Uruguay but in the neighbouring countries, were on the alert for any development that might arise. At this period a large number of innocent-looking packing-cases, purporting to contain Manchester goods, were in transit through Argentina destined for one of the northern Oriental ports on the Uruguay River. Through some cause or other the cases came under suspicion, and they were opened ere they had crossed the Argentine frontier. In place of the Manchester goods reposed thousands of grim Mauser rifles and millions of cartridges! The discovery of these weapons must have dealt a bitter blow to the insurrectionist cause; nevertheless, as anticipated, the revolution broke out a few weeks later. I have said that both weapons and cash are essential for the purpose of a revolution--which is obvious enough in almost every country as well as in Uruguay. But there is a third requisite that is quite as indispensable as either of the former. The Uruguayan is a born cavalryman, and a horse is necessary to him, not only for the partaking in the actions but for the covering of the lengthy distances that have to be traversed. A score of leagues and more frequently lie between a man and his appointed rendezvous. A pedestrian in the midst of the hills and valleys would be a lost and negligible unit. [Illustration: OX WAGON ON THE CAMPO.] [Illustration: CROSS COUNTRY TRAVELLING. To face p. 316.] It might be imagined that the matter was simple enough, and that all a revolutionist had to do when the time for the outbreak arrived was to mount his horse, and to ride away over the hills to join his fellows. In actual fact a rising is not to be started in this fashion. It is inevitable in the first place that numerous preparations must occur ere the time for active operations has ripened, and it is equally inevitable that an organisation of the kind, with whatever attempt at secrecy it may be conducted, cannot proceed without becoming known to the Government. The eve of an outbreak is, in consequence, marked by tremendous vigilance on the part of the authorities. Troopers and police are dispatched to strategic positions throughout the country, and then for a while the nation waits in anxious expectation while the tension increases. With the first hint of the actual banding together of the revolutionary companies the authorities strike a blow--not at the men themselves, but at their means of transport. The troopers and police ride hastily in all directions, and scour the countryside in search of every horse that is available. When the districts have been swept quite clear of their equine population the horses are driven together to the various headquarters, where they remain, strongly guarded. This very practical measure naturally provides the authorities with a power with which it is difficult for the revolutionists to cope. It is distinctly fatal to a premature or to a belated move on their part, and even should they chance to strike upon the most favourable moment, the horse-gathering policy militates strongly against any likelihood of eventual success. Should the malcontents determine to proceed with the affair in the face of this discouragement, they, of course, follow the lead of the Government, and endeavour to annex all the mounts that the authorities have been unable to carry off in time. So far as the militant programme of the revolutionists is concerned, the first sign of an outbreak is invariably the riding away of a number of men from townships and estancias to the woods in the remoter and more lonely districts. These sylvan rendezvous are, of course, known to the party in general beforehand, and here the leaders of the movement lie hidden in order to await the advent of reinforcements. The first move is simple enough; but it is the arrival of the necessary reinforcements that is frequently frustrated by the precautionary measures of the Government. Should the matter appear quite hopeless, it is even then possible for the insurrectionists to disperse and to return to their homes ere the shedding of blood has occurred. The Uruguayan, however, is not noted without reason for his spirit of reckless daring. It frequently happens that a forlorn band, once gathered, will refuse to disperse, and then the result of the campaign is usually short and sharp. In the ordinary course of events the adventurers will lie hidden until a sufficient force has come in, one by one, or in parties of three and four. Then they will ride out and commence active operations, of which the end in these days is invariably the defeat of the party. Many of the attributes of these revolutions are not a little quaint and picturesque--reminiscent, in fact, of the times when personality counted more and system less. In the remote country districts, more especially in those of the north, are many prominent men who occupy more or less the position of chieftains, or that of the old Caudillos who have left so great a mark on Uruguayan history. Each of these is a power in himself, according to the extent of his following; for each can count upon his own particular body of armed men just as surely as could the feudal knights upon their mediæval retainers. These personalities are naturally marked, and their movements are closely watched in a period of unrest. A Uruguayan revolution, even when in full blast, has this to be said in its favour, that it does not in the least interfere with the liberty or with the movements of a resident foreigner. If he be an estanciero, however, and should the tide of campaign flow into his district, it is likely enough that it will affect him materially in much the same fashion that a strike influences the fortunes of dwellers in industrial districts. It is obvious enough that when the Government is in need of recruits the claims of neither the pastures nor the shearing-shed can rival those of the cause. Unfortunately for the estanciero, there is almost certainly not a man in his employ who is not admirably adapted for a trooper, and none are more alive to this fact than the Government recruiting-officers. Thus, when the official party arrives its members will be polite but firm, and a short while afterwards the station hands will be bearing rifles instead of lassos, and a _capataz_ or two--the foremen on the estate--will find their heads raised a little higher in the air beneath the support of a military title, although it is possible that this may be effected a little at the expense of their pockets, since the pay is not in proportion to the temporary rank. In the circumstances of haste that obtain at such moments it may be imagined that, with the exception of the Government regular forces, the equipment on both sides knows little of the accepted insignia of military pomp. Indeed, a rifle and a badge in the majority of cases alone distinguish the militant from the ordinary civilian. But at such periods it must be admitted that, putting aside the foreigners, very few ordinary civilians are left in the disturbed areas, since, when the tide of warfare rolls his way, it is practically impossible for an Oriental to remain neutral. Even were he so inclined, it is doubtful whether he would be given the opportunity. In order to obtain an insight into the manner in which the actual hostilities are conducted no better means could be adopted than the perusal of a novel, "The Purple Land that England Lost," from the pen of a great authority on the River Plate, Mr. W. H. Hudson. It is true that the descriptions deal with a period when the present prosperity of the Banda Oriental had not yet come into existence; but the vivid local colouring must hold good for all the contemporary softening of the national methods. The spirit of modernism that is now evident in Uruguay has entered to a certain extent into the waging of these internal struggles that themselves by rights should belong to the past. The Oriental is perfectly willing to acknowledge that the dispute concerns himself alone, and the tendency to localise the fields of strife and to respect private property is becoming more and more marked. A certain amount of inevitable damage, however, ensues. In districts where fuel is scarce fence-posts and even railway-sleepers are apt to be employed for the purpose of the camp fires. So far as the parties themselves are concerned, the tenacity of the Uruguayan character is clearly evidenced in the continued struggles of the Blancos. In view of the fact that this party has not been in office since 1864, it might be thought that forty-seven years of unsuccessful attempts would have cured it of an ambition that has been so costly both in life and purse. Nevertheless, whether openly or covertly, the contest continues with much the same amount of bitterness that characterised it from the start. [Illustration: PEDIGREE CATTLE.] [Illustration: OVEN BIRD'S NEST. To face p. 320.] Broadly speaking, it may be said that the Colorado party is made up of the dwellers in the towns and more populous centres, while the Blancos are represented to a large extent by the dwellers in the Campo and the clerical party. Of course, no hard-and-fast rule can be laid down on the subject: there are Blancos in plenty to be met with in the towns, and numbers of the opposing section to be found in the country; but in the main the distinction applies. The districts in which the Blancos are most strongly represented of all are those of the northern provinces of Tacuarembó and Rivera, more especially the latter, since it offers in case of need the refuge of the Brazilian frontier. Party feeling at all times runs high, and in these districts that are almost altogether given over to the Blanco cause a certain amount of caution is necessary should a revolution actually be in progress. Much stress, for instance, is laid on the insignia that--in the absence of regular military uniforms--distinguish the adherents of one side from those of the other. In a Blanco district, when trouble is seething, it may be laid down as a hard-and-fast maxim that the traveller should wear no trace of red about his person. The precaution may seem grotesque, yet many ludicrous mistakes have occurred through a failure to observe it. One of the numerous instances of the kind was provided me by a mining engineer, who had himself undergone the experience. Appointed as manager to a goldmine in the far north of the Republic, he happened to arrive, a stranger to the country, during the period of unrest in 1904. Nearing his destination, he had left the railway-line, and was completing the last few leagues of his journey by coach, when he stopped for refreshment at a small _pulperia_, or rural inn. The place was fairly well filled with _peones_, and with the various types of the local labourer, and no sooner had he entered the doors than it became obvious to the traveller that his advent had caused a deep sensation amongst these folk. The landlord served him with reluctance and a visible show of embarrassment, while the black looks of the rest grew deeper, until the demeanour of a certain number became actually threatening. The mining engineer turned in amazement to the _pulpero_, who in mute accusation pointed a finger at the tie he wore. It was a vivid red! The traveller had learned sufficient of the country's situation to enable him to understand something of the situation. The group of Blancos were fully under the impression that one of their hated political enemies had defiantly come to beard them in their very midst. Explanations produced only a minor result, since these hardy dwellers in the back-blocks were wont to judge by deeds rather than by words. So, perceiving that no other remedy remained, the wearer of the hated badge hurried out to his coach, unstrapped one of his bags, and entered the pulperia once more, bearing beneath his collar a standard of neutrality and peace in the shape of a black tie! On this the local patrons of the inn expressed their entire satisfaction, and profound peace reigned in the pulperia. It would be possible to mention a number of similar episodes. There have even been cases when the colouring of surveyor's poles has given an unpleasantly political significance to instruments that were never more misjudged. But even such ludicrous side-issues serve to show the amount of bitterness that exists amongst the humblest members of either cause. Such determined struggles, it is true, are not a little eloquent of the virility and energy of a nation. Nevertheless, it will be a bright day for Uruguay when the country can look upon its revolutions as past history. As I have said elsewhere, these minor wars have not succeeded in arresting the forward march of the Republic. Yet their cessation could not fail to produce an even greater acceleration in the present rate of progress. Since every thoughtful Uruguayan admits this to the full, and openly deplores these periodical outbursts of unrest, it is to be hoped that the days of internal peace will not be much longer delayed. APPENDIX FINANCIAL AND COMMERCIAL STATISTICS The increase in Uruguay's trade with foreign countries since 1862--Trade with foreign countries in 1908--Imports of articles destined for commercial purposes--Imports of articles destined for industrial purposes--Ports to which Uruguayan wool was chiefly exported during 1908--Values of imports from foreign countries--Values of exports to foreign countries--Values of goods handled by the various ports since 1909--Proportion of cultivated soil compared with the area of departments--Live stock census of the Republic in 1900, showing the amounts owned by Uruguayan and foreign proprietors--The distribution of live stock in the various departments--Principal articles exported from Uruguay to the United Kingdom in 1909--Principal articles exported from the United Kingdom to Uruguay in 1909--Uruguay's Budget--Distribution of expenditure among the various departments--Services provided for by special revenues--Principal sources from which the revenues are derived--The development of the State Bank during the years 1897-1909--Balance-sheet--Cereal production in tons--Cereal harvest for the year 1908-9--Cable, telegraph, and telephone systems--Postal service. TABLE SHOWING THE INCREASE IN URUGUAY'S TRADE WITH FOREIGN COUNTRIES SINCE 1862 ------+-------------+-------------+------------+ Year. | Imports. | Exports. | Total. | ------+-------------+-------------+------------+ 1862 | $8,151,802 | $8,804,442 |$16,956,244 | 1864 | 8,384,167 | 6,334,706 | 14,718,873 | 1866 | 14,608,091 | 10,665,040 | 25,273,131 | 1867 | 17,657,918 | 12,077,795 | 29,735,713 | 1868 | 16,102,465 | 12,139,720 | 28,242,195 | 1869 | 16,830,078 | 13,930,827 | 30,760,705 | 1870 | 15,003,342 | 12,779,051 | 27,782,393 | 1871 | 14,864,247 | 13,334,224 | 28,198,471 | 1872 | 18,859,794 | 15,489,532 | 34,349,256 | 1873 | 21,075,446 | 16,301,772 | 37,377,218 | 1874 | 17,481,672 | 15,244,785 | 32,426,455 | 1875 | 12,431,408 | 12,693,610 | 25,125,018 | 1876 | 12,500,000 | 13,727,000 | 26,527,000 | 1877 | 15,045,846 | 15,899,405 | 30,945,251 | 1878 | 15,927,974 | 17,492,159 | 33,420,153 | 1879 | 15,949,303 | 16,645,961 | 32,595,864 | 1880 | 19,478,868 | 19,752,201 | 39,231,069 | 1881 | 17,918,884 | 20,229,512 | 38,148,396 | 1882 | 18,174,800 | 22,062,934 | 40,237,734 | 1883 | 20,322,311 | 25,221,664 | 35,543,975 | 1884 | 24,550,674 | 24,759,485 | 49,309,559 | 1885 | 25,275,476 | 25,253,036 | 50,528,512 | 1886 | 20,194,655 | 23,811,986 | 44,006,641 | 1887 | 24,615,944 | 18,671,996 | 43,287,940 | 1888 | 29,477,448 | 28,008,254 | 57,485,702 | 1889 | 36,823,863 | 25,954,107 | 62,777,970 | 1890 | 32,364,627 | 29,085,519 | 61,450,146 | 1891 | 18,978,420 | 26,998,270 | 45,976,690 | 1892 | 18,404,296 | 25,915,819 | 44,356,115 | 1893 | 19,671,640 | 27,681,373 | 47,353,013 | 1894 | 23,800,370 | 33,470,511 | 57,279,881 | 1895 | 24,596,193 | 32,543,643 | 57,279,881 | 1896 | 25,530,185 | 30,403,084 | 55,933,269 | 1897 | 19,512,216 | 29,219,573 | 48,831,789 | 1898 | 24,784,361 | 30,276,916 | 55,061,277 | 1899 | 25,552,800 | 36,574,164 | 62,226,964 | 1900 | 23,978,206 | 29,410,862 | 53,389,068 | 1901 | 23,691,932 | 27,731,126 | 51,423,058 | 1902 | 23,517,347 | 33,602,512 | 57,119,859 | 1903 | 26,103,966 | 37,317,909 | 62,421,975 | 1904 | 21,217,000 | 38,485,000 | 59,702,000 | 1905 | 30,778,000 | 30,805,000 | 61,583,000 | 1906 | 34,455,000 | 33,402,000 | 67,857,000 | 1907 | 37,470,715 | 34,912,072 | 72,382,787 | 1908 | 36,188,723 | 40,296,367 | 76,485,090 | 1909 | 37,136,764 | 45,789,703 | 82,946,467 | ------+-------------+-------------+------------+ URUGUAY'S TRADE WITH FOREIGN COUNTRIES IN 1908. A COMPARISON WITH THAT OF SOME OTHER CENTRAL AND SOUTH AMERICAN STATES Uruguay $76,485,090 Peru 49,585,000 Bolivia 33,837,000 Columbia 28,512,636 Venezuela 26,540,905 Ecuador 15,296,627 Santo Domingo 14,613,807 Costa Rica 13,386,930 Guatemala 12,567,729 San Salvador 10,028,237 Panama 9,563,946 Haiti 8,180,008 Paraguay 7,661,468 Nicaragua 7,500,000 Honduras 4,664,039 URUGUAY'S IMPORTS OF ARTICLES DESTINED FOR COMMERCIAL PURPOSES ----------------------+-------------+------------+------------+----------- | Yearly | | | |average from | 1905. | 1906. | 1907. |1898 to 1902.| | | ----------------------+-------------+------------+------------+----------- Various foods | $4,938,000 | $5,293,397 | $6,966,500 | $6,530,700 Beverages | 2,359,000 | 1,724,185 | 1,808,500 | 2,097,000 Tobacco | 218,000 | 306,142 | 280,109 | 697,000 Cotton manufactures | 3,265,000 | 4,900,000 | 4,400,000 | 4,555,000 Woollen " | 1,203,000 | 1,523,600 | 1,814,000 | 1,879,800 Thread " | 155,000 | 170,086 | 166,000 | 226,100 Silk " | 276,000 | 303,286 | 364,000 | 521,500 Other " | 344,000 | 1,727,492 | 1,587,000 | 955,000 Chemical and | | | | pharmaceutical | | | | products | 507,000 | 751,993 | 718,000 | 1,178,000 Musical instruments | 61,000 | 93,873 | 106,800 | 116,600 Paper and cardboard | 496,000 | 615,617 | 675,100 | 709,300 Manufactured metal | 707,000 | 1,072,426 | 1,078,100 | 593,600 China and earthenware | 84,000 | 163,000 | 186,800 | 185,400 Jewels, crystals, &c. | 373,000 | 494,815 | 546,000 | 724,000 Various articles | 1,271,000 | 1,635,203 | 1,948,800 | 1,384,315 |-------------+------------+------------+----------- Total | $17,271,000 |$20,775,651 |$22,645,700 |$22,353,615 ----------------------+-------------+------------+------------+----------- URUGUAY'S IMPORTS OF ARTICLES DESTINED FOR INDUSTRIAL PURPOSES -----------------------+-------------+------------+------------+----------- | Yearly | | | |average from | 1905. | 1906. | 1907. |1898 to 1902.| | | -----------------------+-------------+------------+------------+----------- Livestock | $1,388,000 | $1,822,452 | $990,000 | $754,000 Machine oil | 533,000 | 691,860 | 781,400 | 841,400 Coal | 1,128,000 | 1,366,564 | 1,723,000 | 1,879,000 Paints and inks | 139,000 | 224,784 | 223,000 | 320,000 Timber | 1,112,000 | 1,605,410 | 1,526,000 | 1,620,000 Wooden manufactures | 134,000 | 308,175 | 349,000 | 418,700 Tanned hides | 211,030 | 310,756 | 379,000 | 258,000 Iron and steel | 420,000 | 684,959 | 883,000 | 1,688,500 Agricultural machinery | | | | and instruments | 235,000 | 299,146 | 241,300 | 180,300 Industrial machinery | | | | and implements | 149,000 | 247,116 | 338,000 | 847,600 Wire fencing | 506,000 | 976,490 | 721,000 | 793,700 Manufactured iron | 403,000 | 619,749 | 737,000 | 470,000 Portland cement | 103,000 | 237,437 | 347,000 | 479,600 Tiles | 41,000 | 59,601 | 73,000 | 74,500 Railway and tramway | | | | material | 490,009 | 275,889 | 2,089,000 | 3,194,000 General factory | | | | material | 72,000 | 275,564 | 407,600 | 1,295,700 |-------------+------------+------------+----------- Total | $7,064,000 |$10,001,952 |$11,808,300 |$15,117,100 -----------------------+-------------+------------+------------+----------- PORTS TO WHICH URUGUAYAN WOOL WAS CHIEFLY EXPORTED DURING 1908 Bales. Marseilles 94,418 Hamburg and Bremen 28,003 Dunkirk 21,901 Ambères 17,926 Havre 12,953 Liverpool 7,003 VALUES OF IMPORTS FROM FOREIGN COUNTRIES ----------------+-------------+------------+------------- | Yearly | | |average from | 1907. | Difference. |1898 to 1902.| | ----------------+-------------+------------+------------- Great Britain | $6,447,764 | $11,572,152| + $5,124,388 Germany | 2,932,965 | 6,079,498| + 3,146,533 France | 2,290,174 | 3,924,069| + 1,633,885 United States | 2,091,209 | 3,439,445| + 1,348,236 Italy | 2,218,844 | 2,898,391| + 679,547 Belgium | 1,456,469 | 2,688,520| + 1,232,051 Argentina | 3,151,345 | 2,563,186| - 588,158 Brazil | 1,518,800 | 1,743,731| + 224,931 Spain | 1,837,603 | 1,725,198| - 112,405 Holland | 3,625 | 233,968| + 230,343 Paraguay | 145,431 | 187,989| + 42,558 Australia | -- | 130,559| + 130,539 Cuba | 105,932 | 121,040| + 15,108 Chile | 106,608 | 108,342| + 1,734 Portugal | 15,087 | 32,668| + 17,281 Austria | 3,071 | 22,178| + 19,107 |-------------+------------+------------- Total | $24,324,927 | $37,470,615| +$13,145,688 ----------------+-------------+------------+------------- URUGUAYAN EXPORTS TO VARIOUS COUNTRIES --------------------+-------------+-------------+----------- | Yearly | | |average from | | |1898 to 1902.| 1907. | 1908. --------------------+-------------+-------------+----------- Germany | $3,401,642 | $4,647,866 | $5,454,661 England | 2,592,613 | 2,954,529 | 2,987,759 Argentina | 5,194,663 | 7,295,195 | 8,143,029 Australia | -- | 12,750 | 4,400 Austria | -- | 116,880 | 528,568 Belgium | 5,084,554 | 5,551,763 | 6,138,059 Brazil | 6,908,427 | 2,759,863 | 3,467,283 Cuba | 439,040 | 1,092,966 | 848,858 Chile | 282,015 | 289,239 | 170,924 Scotland | -- | 38,625 | 58,846 Spain | 531,793 | 533,674 | 524,066 United States | 1,886,372 | 1,603,330 | 2,336,201 France | 5,137,192 | 6,441,631 | 7,699,927 Italy | 663,097 | 1,155,704 | 1,310,811 Holland | 34,977 | 11,910 | 6,071 Paraguay | 192,024 | 9,343 | 21,618 Peru | 106 | -- | -- Porto Rico | -- | -- | 51,070 Portugal | -- | 101,784 | 133,170 Prussia | 18,911 | -- | 100,002 Barbadoes | 816 | 330 | 1,570 Canary Islands | 14,234 | 5,971 | 2,475 Falkland Islands | 3,739 | 1,483 | 511 Trinidad | 2,051 | 3,794 | 1,541 South Africa | 2,760 | -- | 12,195 Provisions for | | | vessels | 164,400 | 293,502 | 291,150 |-------------+-------------+----------- Total | $31,555,422 | $34,912,072 |$40,296,347 --------------------+-------------+-------------+----------- VALUES OF GOODS HANDLED BY THE VARIOUS PORTS DURING 1909 --------------+-------------+------------ | Imports. | Exports. --------------+-------------+------------ Montevideo | $34,251,069 | $32,685,267 Paysandú | 924,112 | 2,933,884 Salto | 571,371 | 2,000,038 Fray Bentos | 272,535 | 2,538,870 Colonia | 513,684 | 2,770,862 Mercedes | 226,789 | 1,547,081 Maldonado | 21,404 | -- Rocha | 45,800 | -- Cerro Largo | 155,000 | 780,000 Various | 175,000 | 533,700 |-------------+------------ Total | $37,156,764 | $45,789,703 --------------+-------------+------------ PROPORTION OF CULTIVATED SOIL COMPARED WITH THE AREA OF DEPARTMENTS ---------------+-----------+------------+----------- | | | Portion of | Area in | Cultivated | Cultivated Departments. |Kilometres.| Area | Area to | | Hectares. | the whole. ---------------+-----------+------------+----------- Montevideo | 664 | 1,074 | 1·61 Artigas | 11,378 | 1,321 | 0·11 Canelones | 4,751 | 139,721 | 29·40 Cerro Largo | 14,928 | 11,129 | 0·74 Colonia | 5,681 | 107,815 | 18·98 Durazno | 14,314 | 5,100 | 0·35 Flores | 4,518 | 3,842 | 0·85 Florida | 12,107 | 33,382 | 2·75 Maldonado | 4,111 | 11,530 | 2·80 Minas | 12,484 | 31,079 | 2·49 Paysandú | 13,252 | 5,707 | 0·43 Rio Negro | 8,470 | 1,727 | 0·20 Rivera | 9,828 | 3,986 | 0·40 Rocha | 11,088 | 7,662 | 0·69 Salto | 12,603 | 2,202 | 0·17 San José | 6,962 | 102,866 | 14·77 Soriano | 9,223 | 21,487 | 2·33 Tacuarembó | 21,015 | 2,385 | 0·11 Treinta y Tres | 9,539 | 6,329 | 0·66 |-----------+------------+----------- Total | 186,929 | 500,347 | 2·67 ---------------+-----------+------------+----------- LIVE STOCK CENSUS OF THE REPUBLIC IN 1900, SHOWING THE AMOUNTS OWNED BY URUGUAYAN AND FOREIGN PROPRIETORS -----------+---------+-------+----------+-------+-------+------+---------- | Cattle. |Horses.| Sheep. | Mules.| Goats.| Pigs.| Total. -----------+---------+-------+----------+-------+-------+------+---------- Uruguayans |3,135,152|304,381|10,782,057| 8,952| 15,059|54,877|14,301,378 Argentines | 126,796| 10,963| 347,271| 168| 219| 508| 485,925 Brazilians |1,968,188|131,733| 2,370,920| 7,812| 2,522|10,755| 4,492,230 Paraguayans| 609| 112| 4,887| -- | 4| 54| 5,656 Chilians | 11,338| 140| 3,550| -- | -- | 13| 16,041 Mexicans | 65| 13| -- | -- | 2| -- | 80 North | | | | | | | Americans| 6,990| 337| 5,989| -- | 2| 27| 13,345 Spaniards | 823,226| 58,905| 2,769,364| 4,080| 1,276|15,351| 8,672,242 Portuguese | 23,122| 1,434| 36,848| 43| 6| 159| 16,612 French | 240,494| 17,223| 1,141,881| 564| 382| 2,339| 1,402,883 English | 275,183| 15,055| 514,835| 410| 119| 257| 806,859 German | 39,544| 3,488| 121,747| 90| 54| 297| 165,220 Swiss | 15,033| 1,146| 23,181| 12| 12| 555| 39,939 Italians | 158,310| 16,226| 479,122| 836| 771| 8,631| 663,896 Austrians | 1,955| 203| 4,445| 21| -- | 89| 6,713 Dutch | 25| 13| 550| -- | -- | -- | 586 Danes | 15| 12| -- | 4| -- | 6| 37 Belgians | 10| 3| -- | -- | -- | 5| 18 Norwegians | 25| 8| 180| -- | -- | -- | 213 Russians | 6| 4| -- | -- | -- | -- | 10 Arabs | 2| 9| -- | -- | -- | -- | 11 |---------+-------+----------+-------+-------+------+---------- Total |6,827,428|561,408|18,618,717| 22,992| 20,428|93,923|26,134,896 -----------+---------+-------+----------+-------+-------+------+---------- THE DISTRIBUTION OF LIVE STOCK IN THE VARIOUS DEPARTMENTS ------------+---------+-------+----------+------+-------+-------+---------- Departments.| Cattle. |Horses.| Sheep. |Mules.| Goats.| Pigs. | Total. ------------+---------+-------+----------+------+-------+-------+---------- Artigas | 514,328| 43,489| 791,969| 6,060| 1,296| 1,501| 1,358,643 Salto | 614,806| 45,819| 1,076,878| 3,234| 1,622| 2,957| 1,746,316 Paysandú | 686,159| 44,685| 1,071,382| 1,881| 330| 1,734| 1,806,171 Rio Negro | 525,086| 22,346| 1,060,344| 769| 419| 934| 1,609,898 Tacuarembó | 560,406| 38,468| 922,081| 1,683| 874| 4,406| 1,527,918 Rivera | 292,704| 28,993| 207,236| 1,063| 983| 3,234| 534,213 Treinta y | | | | | | | Tres | 382,803| 29,160| 892,815| 384| 265| 4,158| 1,309,585 Cerro Largo | 591,007| 30,999| 662,184| 629| 67| 5,247| 1,290,133 Minas | 369,172| 34,074| 1,334,916| 290| 3,184| 6,314| 1,847,950 Rocha | 336,426| 36,735| 1,257,495| 314| 918| 8,483| 1,640,371 Maldinado | 121,176| 17,894| 695,833| 182| 1,629| 5,472| 842,186 Durazno | 429,451| 31,762| 1,978,391| 950| 140| 2,217| 2,442,911 Flores | 154,776| 16,719| 1,474,664| 154| 104| 1,346| 1,647,763 San José | 142,130| 12,518| 482,436| 517| 158| 1,799| 639,558 Florida | 338,012| 25,037| 1,654,940| 536| 186| 2,723| 2,021,434 Soriano | 407,037| 35,968| 2,056,795| 688| 229| 1,170| 2,501,887 Colonia | 225,475| 28,868| 785,697| 1,039| 422| 4,499| 1,043,209 Canelones | 112,651| 20,808| 99,152| 917| 1,935| 29,355| 264,818 |---------+-------+----------+------+-------+-------+---------- Total |6,827,428|561,408|18,608,717|22,992| 20,428| 93,923|26,134,896 ------------+---------+-------+----------+------+-------+-------+---------- PRINCIPAL ARTICLES EXPORTED FROM URUGUAY TO THE UNITED KINGDOM IN 1909 Meat (chilled, frozen, extracts), &c. 732,125 Wool 173,738 Hides and skins (including sealskins, £8,440) 62,703 Bones 10,089 Tallow 76,688 Wheat 20,054 Maize 7,160 Flax seed 26,721 PRINCIPAL ARTICLES EXPORTED FROM THE UNITED KINGDOM TO URUGUAY IN 1909 Coal 699,260 Coke 11,339 Woollens, Manchester and Bradford goods 712,067 Galvanised iron 141,184 Drugs, &c. 70,460 Machinery 337,304 Hardware 26,614 Glass and china 39,105 Jute goods 63,209 Cement 16,000 Stationery 14,000 Paints, &c. 19,140 Metals (excluding iron and steel) 23,675 Hats and millinery 11,335 Woollen articles 29,737 URUGUAY'S BUDGET. DISTRIBUTION OF EXPENDITURE AMONG THE VARIOUS DEPARTMENTS ----------------------+---------------+---------+---------------+--------- | Budget of | | Budget of | | 1908-9. | | 1910-11. | ----------------------+---------------+---------+---------------+--------- |Dollars. Cents.| £ |Dollars. Cents.| £ Legislature | 541,476 61 | 115,208| 558,864 33 | 118,907 Presidency of the | | | | Republic | 77,938 21 | 16,582| 76,471 40 | 16,270 Ministry of Foreign | | | | Affairs | 473,280 50 | 100,698| 534,898 37 | 113,808 Ministry of Interior | 2,997,013 36 | 637,662| 3,412,250 88 | 726,011 Ministry of Finance | 1,371,455 84 | 291,799| 1,523,842 57 | 324,222 Industry, labour, and | | | | public construction | 1,572,257 46 | 334,523| 2,308,793 75 | 491,232 Ministry of Public | | | | Works | 283,887 20 | 60,401| 374,321 91 | 79,643 Ministry of War | | | | and Marine | 3,057,377 67 | 650,506| 3,580,739 89 | 761,859 Administration | | | | of justice | 445,286 54 | 94,742| 323,353 80 | 68,800 National obligations |10,255,357 35 |2,181,991|10,639,723 80 |2,263,771 |---------------+---------+---------------+--------- Total |21,075,330 74 |4,484,113|23,333,260 70 |4,964,523 ----------------------+---------------+---------+---------------+--------- SERVICES PROVIDED FOR BY SPECIAL REVENUES $ Municipal Budget } 1,520,000 Montevideo } Interior 930,000 National Commission of Charity 1,850,000 University, application of special revenue 140,000 Port works, application of additional duty 1,400,000 National Council of Hygiene 33,000 Miscellaneous 1,200,000 ---------- Total 7,073,000 PRINCIPAL SOURCES FROM WHICH THE REVENUES ARE DERIVED -------------------------------------+------------+---------- | $ | £ -------------------------------------+------------+---------- Customs Revenue | 13,620,000 | 2,897,872 Property tax-- | | Montevideo | 1,090,000 | 231,915 Provinces | 1,720,000 | 365,957 Licensing taxes-- | | Montevideo | 783,000 | 166,595 Provinces | 571,000 | 121,489 Profits of the Bank of the Republic | 770,000 | 163,829 Internal taxes on home | | manufactures--_i.e._, alcohol, | | matches, beer, artificial wines, | | tobacco, &c. | 1,408,000 | 299,574 Stamps and stamped paper | 830,000 | 176,596 Post and telegraphs | 570,000 | 121,276 Consumption tax on imported produce | 380,000 | 80,851 Consular fees | 233,000 | 47,449 Lighthouse dues | 85,000 | 18,085 -------------------------------------+------------+---------- TABLE SHOWING THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE STATE BANK DURING THE YEARS 1897-1909 -----+----------+------------+---------+----------+---------+-------+--------- | | Notes | | | |Reserve| Year.| Cash. | in |Deposits.|Advances. |Capital. | Fund. |Dividend. | |Circulation.| | | | | -----+----------+------------+---------+----------+---------+-------+--------- | $ | | $ | $ | $ | $ | 1897 | 1,659,098| 892,430 | 524,982| 2,849,586|5,000,000| -- | 2·649 1898 | 3,095,343| 2,691,652 | 834,339| 3,418,435|5,020,303| 20,303| 2·762 1899 | 4,431,313| 4,551,419 |1,604,669| 4,527,312|5,037,633| 37,633| 3·273 1900 | 4,739.788| 5,010,388 |2,427,891| 5,936,920|5,058,243| 58,243| 4·030 1901 | 4,633,957| 5,223,569 |2,704,441| 6,353,506|5,083,713| 80,713| 5·504 1902 | 6,541,015| 6,008,603 |3,345,939| 7,012,434|5,118,692|118,692| 5·410 1903 | 7,616,593| 6,862,538 |4,111,762| 7,352,943|5,153,302|153,302| 5·596 1904 | 6,120,185| 5,256,811 |2,472,016| 5,460,727|5,223,118|223,118| 7·044 1905 | 9,382,287| 8,195,477 |4,109,257| 6,608,587|5,255,118|255,118| 7·107 1906 |10,339,651| 10,396,740 |4,730,672| 8,971,758|5,281,626|281,626| 6·736 1907 |11,362,879| 12,323,869 |5,032,657|12,483,812|6,326,600|326,600| 9·209 1908 |13,080,825| 13,773,633 |5,455,804|15,345,513|6,399,425|399,425| 12·754 1909 |17,598,920| 15,936,961 |8,001,301|16,223,624|6,857,901|501,446| 11·217 -----+----------+------------+---------+----------+---------+-------+--------- NOTE.--Rate of Exchange: $4.70 = £1. The following is the balance-sheet of December 31, 1909: ASSETS. $ Cash 20,036,564 Advances 18,921,606 Foreign correspondents 2,927,139 Capital not realised 5,045,947 Sundry stocks and discounts 940,007 National savings bank 400,000 Stocks, &c., for guarantees of judicial and administrative deposits 842,671 Properties 540,596 Branches 4,657,167 Stocks and shares deposited 22,798,736 ---------- Total 77,110,433 £ Equivalent in sterling 16,406,475 ---------- LIABILITIES. $ Authorised capital 12,000,000 Judicial and administrative deposits 703,641 Notes in circulation 16,692,413 Deposit certificates and silver cheque "conformes" 1,633,000 Reserve Fund 597,599 Deposits 11,000,423 Supreme Government 6,047,270 Dividends (payable to State) 769,221 Branches 4,807,854 Sundries 60,276 Depositors of stocks and shares 22,798,736 ----------- Total 77,110,433 £ Equivalent in sterling 16,406,475 ---------- CEREAL PRODUCTION IN TONS -----+---------+--------+-------+-------+---------+-------- Year.| Wheat. |Linseed.| Oats. |Barley.|Birdseed.| Maize. -----+---------+--------+-------+-------+---------+-------- | Tons. | Tons. | Tons. | Tons. | Tons. | Tons. | | | | | | 1900 | 187,553 | 1,009 | 33 | 424 | 518 | 77,093 1901 | 99,719 | 2,313 | 68 | 438 | 709 | 141,647 1902 | 206,936 | 8,757 | 115 | 1,016 | 1,103 | 128,539 1903 | 142,611 | 20,767 | 149 | 658 | 323 | 134,335 1905 | 205,888 | 14,046 | 525 | 588 | 1,745 | 121,862 1906 | 124,344 | 10,782 | 543 | 786 | 1,908 | 81,956 1907 | 186,884 | 21,930 | 1,752 | 1,576 | 1,638 | 13,613 1908 | 202,208 | 18,372 | 3,467 | 1,889 | 223 | -- 1909 | 233,910 | 13,259 | 6,710 | 3,072 | 119 | 169,464 -----+---------+--------+-------+-------+---------+-------- CEREAL HARVEST FOR THE YEAR 1908-9 ------------+------------+-----------+------------ |Amount Sown.| Area |Total Yield. | |Cultivated.| ------------+------------+-----------+------------ | Kilos. | Hectares. | Kilos. | | | Wheat | 18,915,529 | 276,787 | 233,910,034 Linseed | 592,959 | 18,341 | 13,259,821 Oats | 458,156 | 6,891 | 6,710,645 Barley | 238,089 | 3,487 | 3,072,202 Canary seed | 5,319 | 141 | 119,130 Maize | 2,534,739 | 203,268 | 169,464,099 ------------+------------+-----------+------------ CABLE, TELEGRAPH, AND TELEPHONE SYSTEMS IN URUGUAY CABLES. MILES. Western Telegraph Company 470 River Plate Telegraph Company 180 Telegraph and Telephone Company of the River Plate 205 National Government cable 10 ------ Total 865 TELEGRAPHS. MILES. National Government Telegraphs 1,740 Oriental Telegraph Company 1,030 River Plate Telegraph Company 328 Telegraph and Telephone Company of the River Plate 300 ------ Total 3,398 TELEGRAPHS (RAILWAY SYSTEM). MILES. Central Uruguay Railway Company 2,138 Midland Railway Company 198 Northern Railway Company 71 North Western Railway Company 112 Eastern Railway Company 32 Local companies 39 ------ Total 2,590 TELEPHONES. MILES. Montevideo Telephone Company (British) 10,845 The Co-operative Telephone Company (Uruguayan) 4,375 National Government lines for police service 2,188 ------ Total 17,408 SUMMARY MILES. Cables (Telegraphs) 865 Public service 3,398 Railway service 2,590 Telephones 17,408 ------ Total 24,261 POSTAL SERVICE The Revenue from the Postal Services for the year 1909 amounts to £132,307, and the expenditure as authorised by the Government £106,085. [Illustration: URUGUAY London: T. Fisher Unwin] INDEX A Aborigines (138-150); various tribes, 138; character of, 139; ethics, 140; marriage, 141; warfare, 142; weapons, 143; burial, 143-4; superstitions, 144-5; question of cannibalism, 145-6; introduction of horses to, 147; hostility to whites, 147 Administration, 312-3. _Agnes C. Donohoe_, Canadian sealing-schooner, seized, 295 Agricultural societies, 259 Agriculture (_See Estancias_, _Industries_, _Cereals_); proportion of soil in cultivation, 331 Alfalfa, 205 Alvear, defeats Otorgues, 70; deposed by Thomas, 72 Amethysts, 235, 289 Aguirre, President, 121 Arachanes Indians, 150 Architecture, 193-4, 201, 208, 216 Argentina, provinces, occupied by Lopes, 122 Argentine, the, relations with Uruguay, 30, 63-4. See _Buenos Aires_, _Rosas_ Artigas (78-96), central figure of the Revolution, 57; joins patriots, 58; defeats Spaniards at Las Piedras, 59; besieges Montevideo, 60; superseded in command, 61; heads exodus to Argentine, 63; insists on Uruguayan autonomy, 64; separates from Argentine, 65; elected President, 67; raises siege of Montevideo, is outlawed by Argentina, but raises revolt in provinces, 68; demands surrender of Montevideo, 69; ruler of Uruguay, 71; returns hostages to Thomas, 72; defeated by Brazilians, 75; declares war upon Buenos Aires, 75; deserted by leaders, 76; escapes to Paraguay, 77; history of, 78-96; character, 79-80; early life, 81-3; ruler of Uruguay, 88; expels Spaniards, 89; horrors committed in camp, 91; simplicity of manners, 91-4 B Banda Oriental, 27; subject to Artigas, 90 Barley, 285 Bathing-places, 167 Batlle, President, 123, 126 Beef Trust of United States, 280-1; attempt to capture South American refrigerating industry, 282 Belgrano, makes treaty with Portuguese, 64 "Blancos," or Whites, the, a political clan, 32; assassinate Flores, 123; assassinate Borda, 125; origin of term, 313, 314-5, 321-3 Bohanes Indians, 148 Borda, President, assassinated, 125 Brazil, relations with, 30-1; invades Uruguay in 1817, 75; annexes Uruguay, 77; alliance with Uruguay against Rosas, 117; sends troops to assist Flores, 120; alliance with Uruguay in Paraguayan War, 122 British: capital, 276; popularity of, 33; enterprise, 296-7; invade Uruguay and evacuate it, 55. _See England._ Brown, Admiral, destroys Spanish fleet, 68; destroys Uruguayan fleet, 114 Budget, the, 335 Buenos Aires, taken by British, 55; Junta of, 56; action of Government during revolution, 62, 64; refuses to recognise Congress of Uruguay, 67; evacuates Montevideo, 70, 71; sends forces against Artigas which revolt and depose Alvear, 72; offers to acknowledge Uruguayan independence in return for Transplatine provinces, 73 Bull-fighting, 133-4, 223-4 Burnett, Mr. Henry, British Vice-Consul, 203 Bustamente, President, 120 C Cabildo, official, 73 Cabot founds San Sebastian, 38 Campo, the, 72, 114, 175-7, 137, 237-45 Canaries, immigrants from, 48-9, 53 Canelones, 265 _Caudillo_, severity of, 74 Carlos II. of Spain, surrenders Colonia to Portugal, 42 Carlota, Queen of Portugal, 61 Casas, Padre de las, recommends introduction of negro slaves, 44 Cattle, introduced by Hernandarias, 40; superabundance of, 153, 247-8, 250, 254-264; census, 332; distribution of, 333 Cereals, 284-5 _Changadores_, or early buccaneers, 40 Charity, Commission of, 313 Charrúa Indians, kill de Solis, 37; destroy S. Sebastian, 38; attempt to sack Montevideo, 49; practically exterminated, 110, 139-47 Cheese, 175 Chilled meat. See _Refrigerating Industry_ Cholera, 124 Civil War, 28; after War of Independence, 108; Rosas intervenes, 112; the French intervene, 113. _See Revolution_, _Revolutions_ Climate, 272 Clubs, 158-9 Colón, 166 Colonia, foundation of, 42; in hands of Portuguese, 43; captured by Spanish, 44; given back to Portugal by Philip V., 44; besieged by Salcedo, 49; exchanged for Jesuit missions, 50; again becomes Portuguese, is retaken, and again falls to Portuguese, 51; captured by Ceballos, 53; siege of, during Revolution, 60 Colonia, department, 267 Colonia Suiza, 211-5 Colonies, 212-3, 220-244 "Colorados" or Reds, a political clan, 32; formation of, 120; origin of, 313, 314-5, 321-3 Communications, 296-308. _See Railways_, _Shipping_ "Conciliation Ministry," the, 125 Constitution of Uruguay, 109, 311 Coronilla, seal islands, 294 Corrales, goldfields, 287 Costume, 180 Cuestas, 125 Culta, besieges Montevideo, 65 Customs revenue, 336 Customs service, 83 D Dairies, 214, 261 Darwin, discovers fulgurites at Maldonado, 203 Departments, 265; budgets of, 335 Diamonds, 288 Diaz, General, revolt of, 119; policy of, 120; second revolt and execution, 121 Dolores, taken by the Thirty-Three, 101 Domestics, 180-1 Durazno, department, 266 E Eden, 185 Education, 32, 165 Elio, appeals to Queen Carlota for help during siege of Montevideo, 61, 88 England, intervenes during Rosas' invasion, 116; exports to, 334; exports from, 334. _See British._ English colony, the, 159 Estancias, 246-53 Exports, 277, 329; general, 330; to England, 334 F _Faeneros_, early trafficking in hides by, 40 Fauna of Uruguay, 273-5 Ferdinand VI. of Spain, cedes northern Uruguay and the Missions to Portugal in return for Colonia, 50 Feuds, 137. _See Politics_, _Revolutions_ Finance, a crisis, 124; increased cost of living, 131-2; English capital, 276; imports and exports, 277; the Budget, 335; special revenue, 336; principal sources of revenue, 336 Flores, Dictator, 120-1; assassinated, 123 Florida, department, 205 Football, 133 Foreigners, position of, 32 France, blockades Buenos Aires, 113; forms armistice with Rosas, 114; intervenes during invasion by Rosas, 116 Francia, Dictator of Paraguay, 77 Fray Bentos, 229 Frigorifica Uruguaya, 263 Frozen Meat trade, 263, 280-2 Fulgurites, 203 G Garay, Juan de, defeats Zapicán, 39 Garibaldi, as privateer, 114 Garro, de, Governor of Buenos Aires, expels Portuguese from Colonia, 42; removed from post and promoted, 43 Gauchos, 240-2, 251-3 Gems, 288-9 Giro, fourth President, 119 Gold, 287 Government, policy of, 35; established by Lavalleja, 104 Guarani Indians, 149 Guenoa Indians, 149 H Hares, 207 Herán, Padre, Jesuit, 49 Hernandarias, defeated by Charrúa Indians, 39; ships cattle and horses to Colonia to breed in wild state, 40 Hervidero, headquarters of Artigas, 90 Highways, 195-6 History, 37-127 Horses, introduced by Hernandarias, 40, 256, 258 Hotels, 159-60 I Immigration, modern methods in use in eighteenth century, 48 Imports, 277; commercial, 327; industrial, 328; value of, 329 Independence, War of, 28. _See History_, _Revolutions_ Indians, Charrúas, 37; become carnivorous and equestrians, 42; campaign against, 43; rising crushed, 50; they resist treaty of 1750, 50. _See Aborigines_ International troubles, 28 Irala orders Romero to settle Uruguay, 38 J Jesuits, in Uruguay, 50; expelled by Carlos III., 51 K Kennedy, Mr. R. J., British Minister Plenipotentiary, 34 L Landscape, of Uruguay, 173-5, 184-7, 197, 206-7, 222; of the Campo, 238-45, 251 Latorre, dictator, 124 Lavalleja, Juan Antonio, liberator of Uruguay, 98; head of the Thirty-Three, 99; takes Dolores, 100-2; besieges Montevideo with 100 men, 102; sets up Government, 103; General-in-Chief of Army of Liberation, 104; deposes Junta, 105; character as ruler, 108; turns upon Rivera, 109-110; enters Montevideo but is forced to retire; appointed President, the appointment is refused by Assembly, 110; takes refuge in Brazil, 111; supports Oribe, 112; death of, 117 Law, 312 Lemco, 229, 283 Liebig. _See Lemco_ Livestock, census of, 255; cattle census, 332; distribution, 333; Lopes, Dictator of Paraguay, declares war upon Brazil, Uruguay, and Argentina, 123 Lottery, 313 Luxury, Uruguayan free from common South American habit, 133 M Magellan, 38 Maldonado department, fulgurites in dunes of, 203, 270-1; mines and mineral products of, 288 Manners and customs, 128-137 Marriage, laws of, 312 Meat, dried, 261-2, 278-9. _See Tasajo_ Meat, frozen. _See Refrigerating_ Meat trade, the, 261-2, 278, 279, 280-2. _See Beef Trust_ Mercedes, captured by Gauchos, 58, 205, 208-9; port of, 210 Minas, department, 271 Minuanes, Indians, 150 Monte Caseros, battle of, 117 Montevideo, city of, 46, 48-9; a Governor appointed, 50; seat of Viceroy after the revolution of Buenos Aires, 56; siege during revolution, 60, 62; a fresh siege 64-5; capitulation, 68; occupied by Alvear, 70; evacuated, 70; entered by Otorgues, 71; captured by Brazilians, 75; besieged by the Thirty-Three, 103; entered by provisional Government, 106; in revolt, 110; the Nine Years' Siege, 114-5; revolution of 1851, 120; seized by the Colorados, 121; population of, 151; description of, 152-60; surroundings of, 161-2; port works, 304 Montevideo, department, 271 Moreau, French adventurer, 45 Museum at Montevideo, 157 Mutton, despised, 156 N National Assembly, confirms and then vetoes appointment of Lavalleja, 111 Negroes, first introduced into Uruguay, 44, 243; troops, 243; treatment of, in slavery, 245 O Oats, 285 Oribe, General, 108; second President, 111; deprives Rivera of command, 112; resigns upon intervention of France, 113; joins Rosas, 114, 120, 314 Ostentation, common South American failing, not found in Uruguay, 133 Ostrich, the, 275-6 Otorgues, enters Montevideo, 71; captured, 75 P Palomas, seal islands, 295 Pan de Azucar, 201 Pando, agricultural centre, 197-8 Paraguay, 28; appealed to during Revolution, 64; the Paraguayan War, 122-3 Paysandú, centre of meat industry, 32, 58, 321-2 Paysandú, department, 268 Pelota, 223 Pereira, President, 120-1 Philip V. cedes Colonia to Portuguese, 44 Pines, 203 Piracy in eighteenth century, 45 Piria, Señor, 199-200, 202 Piriapolis, 197 Plata, La, River Plate, delineation of boundaries, 34, 45 Police, 136-7 Politics, 311-23; conduct of revolutions, 316-17 Portuguese, rivalry of, with Spain, 38; founders of Colonia, 42; attempt to obtain Uruguay, 46; invade Rio Grande, 49; trouble with, 50-55; invade Uruguay during Revolution, 61; again invade Uruguay, 73. _See Brazil_ Posts, Telegraphs, Telephones, 340-1 Prado, the, 162 Privateering, 45; Uruguayan privateers in European waters, 75; Garibaldi, 114 Progress, 36 R Race-meetings, 131 Railways, 176-80, 206-7, 297-308; companies and stock, 302, 308 Ramirez, deserts and defeats Artigas, 76 Ranchos, primitive, 177, 211 Rats, in Montevideo, 155 Real de San Carlo, 223 Refrigerating industry, 263, 280-2 Republican Constitution, the, 312 Revenue, tables of, 335-6 Revolutions: the War of Independence commences at Paysandú, 58; Portuguese intervention, 64; independence proclaimed, 71; independence recognised after expulsion of the Brazilians, 103; revolution of 1853, 119; military revolution of 1875, 124; lesser revolutions, 311-23 Rhodesia, 283 Rio Negro, department, 267 Rivera, department, 269; goldfields, 287-8 Rivera, General, joins the Thirty-Three, 102; jealousy of Lavalleja, 104; accused of treason and imprisoned, 105; attacked by Lavalleja, 109; elected President, 109; escapes from Lavalleja's attempt at capture, 110; chases Lavalleja into Brazil, 110; deprived of rank by Oribe, 112; returns to power assisted by French, 113; attacked by Oribe and defeated, 114; further defeat, 115; appointed as Minister to Paraguay, 116; return to power, 116; death, 117 Rivera, town, 193 Rondeau, defeats Portuguese, 55; at siege of Montevideo, 61, 65; made Governor, 108, 314 Rosario, 53 Rosas, Dictator of Argentina, 110; supports Lavalleja, 111-2; invades Uruguay, 113; armistice with French, 114; nine years' siege of Montevideo, 114; final defeat and flight, 117 S _Saladeros_, dried meat factories, 261 Salto, department, 268 Salto, town, 234 San José, 207 San Juan, department, 266 San Juan, estancia, 248-9 Santa Ana, 193-4 Santa Lucia, 207 Santos, 125 Seal fisheries, 291-5 Sheep, 258 Shipping, 308-9 Sierra de Mal Abrigo, 207 Slaves, introduction of, 44, 243, 245. _See Negroes_ Solis, Juan Dias de, discoverer of Uruguay, killed by Indians, 37-8 Soriano, department, 267 Spain, turns attention to Uruguay, 38; during Revolution, 38-68; fall of Spanish power in Uruguay, 68; fall of Spanish power in America, 72; State Bank, 337-8 Steamer traffic. _See Shipping._ Suárez, 115 Swine, 258 Swiss Colony, 212 T Tacuarembo, department, 269 Tacuarembo, town, 187 Tajes, President, 125 Tambores, 178-9 _Tasajo_, dried meat, 261-2, 278-9 Tea-Garden Restaurant, 166-7 Theatres, 131 Thomas, General Alvarez, deposes Alvear and becomes Director of Buenos Aires, 72 Topaz, 235, 289 Trade, 277; exports, 277, 329; general, 330; to England, 334; table of increase, 326; comparative trade in 1908, table, 327; table of commercial imports, 327; value of, 331 _Treinta y Tres_, the "Thirty-Three," set out from Buenos Aires, 99; capture Dolores, 101; win over Rivera, 102; besiege Montevideo, 102; obtain general support, 103 Treinta y Tres, department, 270 Triumvirate, the abortive, 119 Tunnel, Bañada de Rocha, 191 U Urquiza, General, defeats Rivera, 115; defeats Rosas, 117 Uruguay: general description of, 27-36; history of, 37-127; manners and customs, 128-137; continued warfare in the past, 29; present conditions, 34; War of Independence, 38, _et seq._; independence proclaimed, 71; evils of new regime, 71; partitioned, 73; invaded by Portuguese, 73; annexed to Brazil, 77; Lavalleja sets up National Government, 104; independence recognised, 105; alliance with France, 113; at mercy of Rosas, 116; alliance with Brazil and defeat of Rosas, 117; warlike history of, 126; life in, 138; landscape, 174-5; the Campo, 237-246; departments of, 265 Uruguayans, heroism of, 29; fighting qualities, 31; character as troops, 94-5; character of people, 128; hospitality and democratic feeling, 115, 130-3; physique of, 133; honesty, 136; sobriety, 137; types of, 181-90; a Paladin of the Campo, 190 V Varela, Dictator, 124 Vidal, President, 124-5 Vigodet, 65 Villa del Cerro, 168 Viticulture, 289-91 W War of Independence, 58. _See Revolutions_ Water-stone, 235 Whale fishery, 54 Wheat, 278 Whitelocke, General, incapacity of, 55 Wild, A., dealer in gems, 289 Williman, President, 126 Wines, 289-291 Women, Uruguayan, 135, 180 Y Yaros Indians, 148 Z Zapicán, famous Indian chief, defeats Zarate, is defeated and killed by J. de Garay, 39 Zarate, founds a settlement, and is defeated by Zapicán, 39 Zavala, captures Montevideo, 47 The Gresham Press. UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED WOKING AND LONDON _THE SOUTH AMERICAN SERIES._ Demy 8vo, Cloth. VOL. I.--CHILE. BY G. F. SCOTT ELLIOT, M.A., F.R.G.S., Author of "A NATURALIST IN MID-AFRICA." With an Introduction by MARTIN HUME, a Map and 39 Illustrations. "An exhaustive and interesting account, not only of the turbulent history of this country, but of the present conditions and seeming prospects, ... and the characters of the Chileno and English and German colonists there."--_Westminster Gazette._ VOL. II.--PERU. By C. REGINALD ENOCK, F.R.G.S., Author of "THE ANDES AND THE AMAZON." With an Introduction by MARTIN HUME, a Map and 72 Illustrations. "An important work.... The writer possesses a quick eye and a keen intelligence, is many-sided in his interests, and on certain subjects speaks as an expert. The volume deals fully with the development of the country.... Illustrated by a large number of excellent photographs."--_Times._ VOL. III.--MEXICO. By C. REGINALD ENOCK, F.R.G.S. With an Introduction by MARTIN HUME, a Map and 64 full-page Illustrations. "Mr Enock unites to a terse and vivid literary style the commercial instinct and trained observation of a shrewd man of affairs."--_Aberdeen Free Press._ "Mr Enock transmutes the hard material of ancient chronicles into gleaming romance; he describes scenery with a poet's skill. Full of charm he makes his pages, alluring as a fairy tale, an epic stirring and virile."--_Manchester City News._ VOL. IV.--ARGENTINA. By W. A. HIRST. With an Introduction by MARTIN HUME, a Map and 64 Illustrations. "The best and most comprehensive of recent works on the greatest and most progressive of the Republics of South America."--_Manchester Guardian._ "In the treatment of both the main divisions of a complex theme, the historical and descriptive, Mr Hirst shows judgment and skill that are decidedly rare.... Mr Hirst's exceedingly able and interesting book."--_Westminster Gazette._ "A very interesting and trustworthy survey of the present conditions and prospects of the country."--_Times._ VOL. V.--BRAZIL. By PIERRE DENIS. With a Map and 36 Illustrations. "It is a mine of information, arranged with all the lucidity of a Frenchman; and in one case, in the long chapter devoted to the valorisation of coffee, the treatment deserves to be called masterly."--_Globe._ VOL. VI.--URUGUAY. By W. H. KOEBEL. With a Map and 55 Illustrations. * * * * * Transcriber's note: Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals. =M= indicates a bold letter "M". Variations in spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been retained except in obvious cases of typographical error. The cover for the eBook version of this book was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain. The ad page has been moved from the beginning to the end of the book. The images on pages 38 and 192 were rearranged to match the list of illustrations. 
45621	----	https://archive.org/details/southamericato-d00clemrich Transcriber's note: Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=). SOUTH AMERICA TO-DAY A Study of Conditions, Social Political, and Commercial in Argentina, Uruguay and Brazil by GEORGES CLEMENCEAU Formerly Prime Minister of France G. P. Putnam's Sons New York and London The Knickerbocker Press 1911 Copyright, 1911 By G. P. Putnam's Sons The Knickerbocker Press, New York INTRODUCTION I have been asked for my impressions as a traveller in South America. I had no sooner promised them than a difficulty presented itself. I have no notes of my journey, and I should be sorry to have them, for it is annoying to record impressions in black and white at the precise moment when one feels them most vividly. And I pass over in silence the hour when it is wisdom to remain quiet. The task of Christopher Columbus was lightened by one fact. America was there, stationary, in the middle of the sea, only waiting for some one to knock against it. I even found in Brazil an eminent Senator for the State of Saint Paul, Señor Almeida Nogueira, who declared that the principal event of that Friday, October 12th, was the discovery--by the original Americans--of Europe in the person of the great Genoese. They had this advantage over him--they had not left their homes. What was I going to discover in my turn, at the risk of being myself discovered?--unknown countries?--unheard-of peoples?--virgin civilisations?--or simply points of comparisons for new judgments on myself and on my country? Our self-satisfaction will not allow us readily to admit that we have anything to learn from young communities, though we are too ready to talk in generalities about them. We cannot deny, however, that their effort is fine, and tends continually toward success. In such a result the least quick-sighted of us must be interested. Facility of communication has multiplied the points of contact between the men of every country. One of our first needs is to correct the vague or false conceptions of the different human societies borne by this globe in a tumult of joy and misery towards destinies unknown. Because there was no one to contradict them, travellers of ancient times were able to give full play to their wildest imaginings. A proverb even sanctions their lack of veracity. When our good Herodotus related that the army of Xerxes dried up the rivers on its passage, the Athenians, perhaps, were not astonished. Christopher Columbus himself died in ignorance of the continent on which he had landed, convinced that he had reached the east coast of Asia. To-day it is another matter. From the Poles to the torrid zone are at work innumerable explorers who only succeed painfully in discovering the new at the price of being verified by their rivals. The incidents which accompanied the probable discovery of the North Pole by Commander Peary showed the danger of rash assertions, even when denial seemed only possible from seals and white bears. I enjoy, happily, the great advantage of having discovered nothing. And, as I am less ambitious of astonishing my contemporaries than of suggesting reflections by the way, I shall perhaps escape offending the susceptibilities of those formidable savants who, having theorised upon everything, can only see everything from the standpoint of their studies. Statisticians had better avoid me; I have nothing to tell them. Having no preconceived notions, I shall not attempt to make facts square with them. Having in mind Voltaire's expression that the most mischievous ignorance is that of the critic, I confess that my own criticism of old civilisations makes me indulgent towards new experiments outside Europe. I am of my time and my country, and at the end of a long career I submit with equanimity to the public the opinions and judgments I have gained. I do not share the prejudices current in Paris against the suburban dwellers of Villers-sur-Marne or St. Cloud. Our comic journals and our plays have inflicted the same kind of torture upon the South Americans. Having ridiculed them for so long, has not the moment come when we should study them, not merely to flatter ourselves at their expense, but as a people who, more than any other, are our intellectual children, and to ask ourselves whether we cannot sometimes learn something from them? It is not in three months that one gets definite ideas as to the future of these vast territories, where a work of civilisation is going on which will inevitably change the political and social equilibrium of the planet that to-day is still, in effect, European. It is always difficult to report faithfully what one has seen, for there is an art in seeing as in telling. Without claiming to have achieved it, I venture to hope that my observations, impartially recorded, will bear the seal of good faith and be of some use to the reader. It is obvious that the towns of South America, though some of them are very fine and well laid out, cannot, by reason of their recent history, offer monuments comparable with those of Europe. One not infrequently hears a remark of this sort: "Have you seen that old church over there? It is at least forty or fifty years old!" The towns derive their chief interest from their situation and surroundings; their internal features are only those which Europe has been pleased to send them in superabundance. There remain the land and the people, two worthy subjects of study. The land, rich in undeveloped forces, calls for new energies. As it only becomes valuable through human labour, everything depends upon man's activity. In the depth of his soul, at once ingenuous and complex, are inscribed all the mysteries of the past, all the secrets of the future. Admitting that American civilisation is of recent origin, it must be said that the American peoples, far from suffering from growing pains, as we are fond of imagining, are really old races transplanted. Like us, they bend under the weight of a heavy history of glory and human suffering; they are imbued with all our traditions, good or bad; and they are subject to the same difficulties, whilst manifesting their vital energies in an environment better adapted to their display. Then, again, let us not fail to distinguish between Latin America of the South and Anglo-Saxon America of the North. Let us refrain as well from generalities, sometimes unjustifiable, regarding the parallel development of two orders of civilisation, and the future destinies which, in hours of crisis, may appear uncertain, of old historic races. I shall deal only with Latin America, without, however, losing sight of the great Republic of the North, where I lived nearly four years. Since neither Jefferson nor Washington foresaw the economic evolution which, in a little more than a hundred years, was to be realised by their infant Republic, it behoves me to be modest in my prophecies. But, if I firmly believe that, in spite of the "historic materialism" of Karl Marx, commercial interests are not the only factors in civilisation; if I take from an eminent writer in Brazil, Señor Arinos de Mello, the curious information that in 1780, at 1400 kilometres from the coast, at the house of his great-grandfather, who had never seen the ocean, a company of amateurs played the tragedies of Voltaire--I must conclude that the influence of Ideas, inherited from our forefathers, is not less certain or durable than that of international trade relations. This I say with no intention of depreciating the importance of such commerce as, even at that time, served as the vehicle of Ideas--just as the good sailing ship transported a copy of Voltaire's _Mérope_ or _Mahomet_ from Rotterdam to Pernambuco, and a train of mules took a month to complete the journey. It should remind us that moral influences are not inferior in results to monetary affairs. We French have allowed ourselves to be outstripped in economic matters at too many points of the globe. Yet, notwithstanding our mistakes, our eighteenth century--with the Revolution which was its inevitable outcome--has constituted for us a patrimony of moral authority which we should seek not only to preserve, but also, if possible, to enlarge. G. C. CONTENTS PAGE INTRODUCTION iii CHAPTER I. THE OUTWARD VOYAGE 1 II. MONTEVIDEO AND BUENOS AYRES 18 III. BUENOS AYRES (_Continued_) 48 IV. FOREIGN COLONISTS IN ARGENTINA 81 V. ARGENTINE EDUCATION, HOSPITALS, AND ASYLUMS 109 VI. ARGENTINE TYPES, MANNERS, AND MORALS 142 VII. ARGENTINE POLITICS 175 VIII. PAMPAS LIFE 204 IX. FARMING AND SPORT 233 X. ROSARIO AND TUCUMAN 257 XI. URUGUAY AND URUGUAYANS 289 XII. RIO DE JANEIRO 316 XIII. BRAZILIAN SOCIETY AND SCENERY 352 XIV. BRAZILIAN COFFEE 389 INDEX 427 SOUTH AMERICA TO-DAY South America To-Day CHAPTER I THE OUTWARD VOYAGE The _Regina Elena_ is in harbour. A great white boat vomits volumes of black smoke from its two funnels, whilst the siren sounds the familiar farewell. Two gangways, on which luggage and passengers are jostling desperately, present the peculiar spectacle of departing crowds. On a dais of multi-coloured sunshades, the wide hats of beautiful Genoese women offer their good wishes to the little veiled toques of the travellers. People stop in the narrowest part of the gangway to laugh and cry together. Vainly the human flood tries to break through the obstacle. The current, according to its strength, carries the living mass of feathers and ribbons back to the landing-place or pushes it on to the deck, where, in a perfect maze of movement and exclamations, it continues to stop the traffic. Not far away, heavily laden with nondescript burdens, the silent emigrant forces his way to the lower deck, dragging old parents and young children after him. Do not imagine the emigrant leaving Italy for the Argentine to be the miserable human specimen one generally sees. He is neither more nor less than a workman moving from one hemisphere to another. We shall meet him again on board. Strongly attached to family life, his peculiarity is to move about with his wife and progeny. The difference in seasons allows him, after cutting corn on the Pampas, to return to Italy for the harvest. Often he settles down in the Argentine under the conditions which I shall explain later, and takes strong root there. Often, again, the love of his native land speaks louder than his love of adventure, and the steamship companies are glad to profit by the circumstance. The siren has blown its last authoritative blast; the last visitors have returned to land; the huge monster glides gently out to sea. One sees nothing but waving handkerchiefs and hears nothing but parting words. We are off. "Good-bye." The grand amphitheatre of white marble and sunburnt stones glides slowly past us, dazzling in the warm light. Already our eyes were looking with curiosity and hopefulness towards the liquid plain. Are we flying from Europe, or is Europe flying from us? From this moment we shall look to see America surge up from the horizon on the day ordained. The first impressions of the boat are excellent: it is admirably fitted up; clean as a new pin, with good attendance. We are welcomed in a most charming manner by the Captain, de Benedetti, a _galant 'uomo_, who advertises his French sympathies by flying a French flag. A fortnight in a handsome moving prison, with floods of salt air to fill one's lungs, and the marvellous panorama of sky and sea, shot with luminous arrows. Our daily promenades are those of prisoners condemned to walk in an eternal circle. As long as land is in sight, our eyes linger on the blue line of mountains, which speaks to us of the country which, in spite of the revolving screw, our hearts refuse to leave. The Ligurian coast, crowned by Alpine heights; Provence, rich in memories, blue mountains darkened by the dying day; grey spots, which represent Toulon and Marseilles. A choppy, rather rough sea, complicated by a ground swell, as we cross the Bay of Lyons, tries the ladies, who had hitherto been very lively. They retire to their cabins, whence issue sinister sounds. But let us pass on. To-morrow's sun will illumine the joyous hospitality of Barcelona. Never did land look so fascinating to me. I have crossed the Atlantic eight times without ever feeling that kind of anticipated regret for the old Continent. Youth longs for the Unknown, but age learns to fear it. The passengers lunched on shore. Then came a visit to the _Rambla_, sad and deserted under the grey sky. We linger over our first letters home, which can neither be called letters from abroad nor letters of farewell. A cab carries us about in a haphazard way, past modern houses which are a disgrace to Spain and our epoch, and past façades of convents burnt down in the last revolution. Finally, we are driven back to the quay, where, since morning, a crowd of fruit-sellers, picturesquely attired in red and yellow, have been selling their wares to the emigrants, forbidden by the regulations to land at the ports of call. Nets attached to long poles, filled with provisions of all sorts, are offered to the passengers on the lower decks and held at a safe distance until the sum, which has been volubly disputed, falls into the outstretched apron below. But the signal is given. The teeming market disappears, and, without more ado, we put out to sea. In the dusk of the evening we discern the white summits of the Sierra Nevada, in whose shadow lie Granada and the Alhambra. We shall pass Gibraltar in the night, and at dawn to-morrow we shall have only the blue monotony of the infinite sea. It is five days' steam to St. Vincent, in the Cape Verde Islands. The passengers shake down, grouping themselves according to national or professional affinities. Stretched on arm-chairs of excessive size--which turn the daily walk into a steeplechase--fair ladies, wrapped in shawls and gauzes, and profoundly indifferent to the comfort of others, try to read, but only succeed in yawning. They chatter aimlessly without real conversation. The cries of the children create a diversion, and a badly-trained dog is a fruitful topic for discussion. The men sit down to bridge, or smoke innumerable pipes in the Winter Garden. I catch scraps of business talk around me. The boldest foot it on the deck, but their enterprise does not please the gentler passengers, who are in quiet possession of the only space available for exercise. Soon, under the guise of sops to the ravenous ocean appetite, piles of plates, glasses, and decanters, complicated with stools and travelling rugs, encumber the passageway. As the soft roll of the ship causes a certain disturbance of the crockery, the pedestrian, young or old, has always a chance of breaking his leg--a contingency to which the ladies appear to be perfectly indifferent. The piano suffers cruelly from sharp raps administered by knotty juvenile fingers. An Italian lady sings, and one of my own countrywomen sketches a group of emigrants. In the primitive setting of the steerage everybody is already at home and appears happy. Attentive fathers walk and play with their offspring and occasionally smack them by way of showing them the right path. Mothers are nursing their babies or washing clothes. I am told that there are no fewer than twenty-six nursing mothers out of a total of six hundred third-class passengers on board. Amid the Italian swarm, brightly coloured groups of Syrians stand out. The women, tattooed, painted, and clad in light-coloured draperies, sometimes covered with silver ornaments, fall naturally into the dignified and statuesque pose of the Oriental. A few are really handsome, with a sort of passive sensuality of bearing. It is said that the Syrians are the licensed pedlars of the Pampas. A visit between decks shows that the ventilation is good and that cleanliness is insured by incessant application of brush and hose. The sick bay is well kept. One or two patients are in the maternity ward awaiting an interesting event before the Equator can be reached. The food is wholesome and abundant. The Italian Government keeps a permanent official on board who is independent of the officers of the ship, and sees that the regulations concerning hygiene and safety for this class of passengers are rigorously carried out. Frightful abuses in former days necessitated these measures, which are now entirely efficacious. We are looking forward to calling at St. Vincent as a welcome break in the monotony of our days. However, thanks to wireless telegraphy, we are no longer cut off from the world on this highly perfected raft which balances our fortunes between heaven and sea. One cannot help feeling surprised when presented with an envelope bearing the word "Telegram." Some one has sent me his good wishes for the voyage from France by way of Dakar. Then by the same mysterious medium the passengers of a ship we shall meet to-morrow wave their hats to us in advance. On several occasions I have had the pleasure of receiving messages of this sort; they are incidents in a day. From time to time we can read the despatches of the news agencies posted in the saloon. I leave you to imagine how, with our abundant leisure, we discuss the news. From St. Vincent to the island of Fernando de Noronha, the advanced post of Brazil, I do not think we were ever more than two days out of range of wireless telegraphy. When it is compulsory to have a wireless installation on board all ships, collisions at sea can never occur. I visit the telegraph office situated forward on the upper deck. It is a small cabin where an employee sits all day striking sparks from his machine as messages arrive from all parts of the horizon; the sound reminds me of the crackling of a distant mitrailleuse. Here one must not allow the mind to wander even with the smoke of one's cigarette. Through a technical blunder our unfortunate telegraphist, without knowing it, sent the information to Montevideo that we were in danger. In consequence, we learnt from the newspapers on our arrival that the Government was sending a State ship to our help. We thus experienced the sweet sensation of peril without danger, whilst the employee guilty of the error found himself discharged. We shall not profit by the call at St. Vincent, since we arrive in the night. It is in vain that they tell us that the Cape Verde Islands are nothing but a series of arid, yellow rocks; that St. Vincent can only show commonplace houses and cabins with the inevitable cocoanut-trees; that the "town" is only inhabited by negroes who pick up a living from the ships that put in here to coal; whilst the English coal importers and real masters of this Portuguese possession live up in the hills. Nevertheless, we are disappointed of an opportunity to stroll on shore towards a clump of trees, apparently planted there with the object of justifying the name of the place, which is in reality the most barren spot. On our way we had passed the denuded rocks which somebody tells us are called the Canaries. St. Vincent, it seems, is a second edition of the Canaries--only more sterile. We have no difficulty in believing it when at nightfall the _Regina Elena_ stops at the bottom of a deep black hole dotted with distant lights, of which some are fixed to the bows of small craft or tugboats drawing coal lighters, which dance up to us on the waves. Suddenly, as in the third act of _L'Africaine_, under the orders of an invisible Nelusko, we are invaded on the starboard and port side by a dual horde of savages. They are fearful-looking blacks, with grinning masks, clothed in coal-dust, who swarm like monkeys up the shrouds and fall on deck with the laugh of cannibals. We are assured that our lives are not in danger, and, in fact, they are no sooner amongst us than, attacked with sudden shyness, they offer in a low voice and in a language in which French and English are strangely mixed, an assortment of cocoanuts, bananas, and bags made of melon seeds, to which they seem to attach great importance. Once more we fall back on the small events of our daily life on board, of which the principal is to find the point in the southern horizon by which the speed of the ship can be calculated, under given conditions of wind and tide. On the New York crossing, the Americans make of this detail an excuse for a daily bet. I notice that the South Americans are less addicted to this form of sport. The first impression made upon me by these South American families with whom I am thrown in daily contact is eminently favourable. Simplicity, dignity, and graciousness are what I see: I find none of the extravagance ascribed to them by rumour. Only on one point am I led to make a criticism: their children seem to enjoy the utmost license of speech and action. Henceforth our only subject of conversation is the probable date on which we shall cross the Equator. The _Regina Elena_, with a displacement of 10,000 tons, did 17 knots on her trials. If she makes 14 or 15 now, we are satisfied. The sea is calm: not a stomach protests. In these latitudes the storms of the North Atlantic are unknown. We shall make the crossing from Barcelona to Buenos Ayres in fifteen or sixteen days. A long rest for any one leaving or seeking a life of excitement. We amuse ourselves by watching troops of dolphins, divine creatures, passing from the joys of the air to those of the sea with a facile grace. What legends have been created about these mammals! From the most ancient times they have been the friends of the seafarer! They save the shipwrecked, and surrender to the charms of music. According to Homeric song, it was from the dolphin that Apollo borrowed the disguise in which he led the Cretan fishermen to the shores of Delphi, where later his temple was built. How true to life is the undulating line of the bas-reliefs on the monument of Lysicrates, in which the Tyrrhenian pirates, transformed into dolphins, fling themselves into the ocean, as though in feverish haste to try a new life! Souvenirs of this old tale surge in my brain until I hear a voice saying harshly: "All these filthy beasts ought to be killed with dynamite, for they destroy the nets of the fishermen." Good-bye to poetic legend! Friendship between man and the dolphin ends in utilitarian holocausts! Civilisation has not yet stamped out the flying-fish. It is still left to us to enjoy the spectacle of the great sea-locusts in flight, rising in flocks into the air to escape from their greedy comrades in the water, and dappling the wide blue plain with their winged whiteness. They remind me of the story of the traveller who was readily believed when he declared he had found at the bottom of the Red Sea a horseshoe belonging to the cavalry of Pharaoh swallowed up in their pursuit of the Hebrews. But when he talked of flying-fish, he found no credence anywhere! It is true men have told so many tales that it is not easy to know when it is safe to show surprise. A daily increasing and heavy heat meets us as we draw near the Line. Light flannel suits are brought into requisition, and breathing becomes difficult to redundant flesh. We are in the _Black Pot_--skies low, heavy with iron-grey clouds; an intermittent, fine rain which cools nothing; a glassy sea; no breeze stirring. It feels like the interior of a baker's oven. We take refuge in the dangerous electric fan which is unequalled for adding a bad cold to the disagreeable sensation of suffocation. Nothing remains of the famous ceremony of christening the passenger who crosses the Line for the first time. The innocent performance is now converted into a ball, with a subscription for the crew. Passengers on the lower deck waltz every evening with far less ceremony, to the strains of an accordion, varying the entertainment by playing at _Morra_, the national game. They stand up in couples and aim terrific blows at each other's faces, accompanying the movement with savage cries. If you watch carefully you will find that in this game of fisticuffs the closed hand is stopped just in time and, at the same moment, a certain number of fingers are shot out. Simultaneously a voice cries a number, always less than ten; and the game consists in trying to announce beforehand how many fingers have been pointed by the two partners. This sport, which has the advantage of requiring none but Nature's implements, is a great favourite with the Italians. Often, in the early morning, from my berth, I used to hear an alarming barking in the direction of the bows, which seemed to be the beginning of a deadly quarrel, but was in reality merely the fun of the _Morra_. Brazilian territory is now in sight--Fernando de Noronha. It is a volcanic island three days off Rio de Janeiro. Successive streams of lava have given strangely jagged outlines to the peaks. A wide opening in the mountain lets in a view of the shining sea on the other side of the island. Three lofty poles of wireless telegraphy stand out among the foliage. They say that these posts were set there by Frenchmen. Goodluck to them! Captain de Benedetti pays me the compliment of celebrating the Fourteenth of July. The Queen's portrait is framed in the flags of the two nations. In the evening we have champagne and drink healths. An Italian senator, Admiral de Brochetti, expresses, in well-chosen language, his appreciation of the friendship of France and I echo his good wishes for the sister nation. Is there any better relief from the exhaustion of a sleepless night in the tropics than a solitary walk beneath the starry firmament of the Southern Hemisphere? Naturally, I sought the Southern Cross as soon as it had risen above the horizon. It was another disillusionment caused by an inflated reputation. Where are ye, O Great Bear and Pleiades, and where the Belt of Orion? On the other hand, words fail to describe the Alpha of Argo. Every morning, between three and four o'clock, I see on the port side a sort of huge blue diamond which appears to lean out of the celestial vault towards the black gulf of the restless sea as if to illumine its abysses. I receive the most powerful sensation of living light that the firmament has ever given to me. If there is in any part of infinite space a prodigious altar of celestial fire, that focus must be Canopus. It was assuredly there that Prometheus stole the heavenly spark with which he kindled in us the light of life. There, too, Vesta watches over the eternal hearth of sacred fire in which is concentrated a more divine splendour than even that of a tropical sun. But now the earth calls us back to herself, or, rather, it is the stormy ocean that rouses us, for as we approach the immense estuary of La Plata a tempest of icy wind blows suddenly upon us from the south. This is the _pampero_, the south wind, the wind from the Pampas, which blows straight from the frozen tops of the Andes. A heavy swell makes the _Regina Elena_ roll in the great yellow waves, for already the clay of the Rio de la Plata is perceptible in the sea and gives it the aspect of a vast ocean of mud. To-morrow morning we shall be in Montevideo. CHAPTER II MONTEVIDEO AND BUENOS AYRES Through the vaporous atmosphere of the sky-line appear the serrated edges of Montevideo, the capital of Uruguay, which was formerly a province of the Argentine, but is to-day an independent republic. In the current language of Buenos Ayres, Uruguay is known simply as "the Oriental Band," and when you hear it said of any one that "he is an Oriental," know that by this term is not meant a Turk or a Levantine, but the inhabitant of the smallest republic in South America, hemmed in between the left bank of the Uruguay, Brazil, and the sea. Quite apart from the question of size, the Argentine and Uruguay have too much in common not to be jealous of each other. The Argentinos would appear to think that the prodigious development of their country must ultimately have the effect of bringing back Uruguay to the fold. This may be so; but it is also quite possible that the "Oriental Band" in her pride will continue to cherish her independence. Meantime, while leaving to the future the solution of the question, there is a little friction between them. Uruguay's revolutionary shocks usually originate in Argentine territory, across the river. The Argentine Government is certainly averse to any leniency towards those who incite to civil war, but it is not always able to exact obedience. South American ways! It is hardly necessary to add that the leaders of an unsuccessful party are wont to take refuge in Buenos Ayres--ten hours distant by the fine boats on the estuary--and that the natural magnet of commercial prosperity enlarges this political nucleus by the powerful factor of trade. There are no less than fifty thousand Orientals[1] in the Argentine capital, and the daily traffic between the two cities may be judged by the crowd assembled morning and evening on board the _Piroscafi_. A brisk walk round the city to obtain a first impression of South America was the most I could do in a stop of a few hours. The landing was somewhat laborious owing to a heavy sea. The President of the Republic was obliging enough to send me a greeting by one of his aides-de-camp, and placed at my disposal the most comfortable of boats, which, after dancing gaily for a while on the waves, finally landed us without too much trouble. The docks, constructed by a French firm, are nearly approaching completion. The great European vessels could here, as at Rio, moor alongside the quays. Why should the _Regina Elena_ lie off outside? A question of red-tape, such as I found later at Rio de Janeiro, exposes travellers to the annoyance of transhipping when every accommodation exists for mooring inside the harbour. Thus on these Latin shores I found a familiar feature of my own bureaucratic land. Beside the French Minister, who is a friend, numerous journalists of pen and kodak came to offer a cordial welcome to their _confrère_. M. Sillard, an eminent engineer from the "Central" School at the head of the French colony here, is in charge of the harbour works. He has succeeded in winning for our country the esteem of every class of the population. The motor-cars start off. The first visit is to the Post-office where I am greeted by a cordial Montevidean whom I do not recognise but whose first word reveals an _habitué_ of Paris. I have travelled by a long road to find out here the boulevard atmosphere! There can be no two opinions about Montevideo. It is a big, cheerful town, with handsome avenues well laid out. Some fine monuments denote a capital city. Streets animated but not too noisy; sumptuous villas in the suburbs; subtropical vegetation in gardens and parks; a pleasant promenade amid the palm-trees by the sea. The dwelling-houses are for the most part of the colonial type. A very lofty ground-floor, with door and windows too often surcharged with ornament resembling the sugar-icing of the Italian pastry-cook, and calculated to convey to these sunny lands an idea of cheap art. The unexpected thing is that the first floor stops short at its balconies as if sudden ruin had overtaken the builder. I found this feature repeated _ad infinitum_ wherever I went. The most modest of citizens, as soon as he can turn his back on his primitive cabin of corrugated iron, makes a point of arousing the admiration of the public with the decorative balcony of a first floor that will never be built. Roofs flat and without chimneys: the climate allows of this. Occasionally a balustrade that almost gives the illusion of a finished building, but that the balcony, cut off short at a height of from two to three feet, leaves you again in doubt as to its object. The drawing-room windows are naturally in the front of the house, and here ladies in their indoor dress have no objection to showing themselves for the delectation of passers-by. But let us say at once that in these countries where the blood is hot misconduct is rare. Men marry young, and the demands of a civilisation as yet untouched by decadence leaves little energy for pleasure that must be sought elsewhere than on the strait path. I will not say but what the great attraction of Paris for many South Americans is precisely the pleasure of the novelty it offers in this respect. It is sufficient for me to set down what came under my notice: happy homes and regular habits; a tranquil enjoyment of a life of virtue. The living-rooms are always grouped around a _patio_ with its colonnade bright with trees and flowers, and here their occupants enjoy the utmost privacy with an absence of street noises. These are the impressions gathered in a hasty walk, since my first visit was necessarily for the President of the Republic and my time was strictly limited. The Presidential palace was a modest-looking house, distinguished only by its guard. Many of the soldiers show strong signs of mixed blood. Curiously enough the sentry is posted not on the pavement but out in the street, opposite the palace. As traffic increases, this rule will need to be changed. The President was not in his office. I was cordially received, however, by the Minister of Foreign Affairs, who was like the most obliging of Parisians. A few steps from the palace I met the President of the Republic, with a small crowd round him, and easily recognisable by his high hat. I was careful not to interrupt him. He is going to do me the honour of receiving me when I return to the capital of Uruguay. Señor Williman is a compatriot, the son of a Frenchman, of Alsatian origin. Before his election he was professor of physics, and he has not thought it necessary to allow his political duties to interfere with his educational work; twice a week he lectures in the college, where he becomes again the happy schoolmaster whose pupils have not yet developed their powers of contradiction. This charming democratic simplicity is in curious contrast with our own persistent efforts to save as much of the ancient autocratic machinery as possible from the revolutionary shipwreck. It is agreeable to be able to testify to the great personal influence that M. Williman wields in this land of Latin dissension. We must get back to the ship, which is announcing its departure. With what pleasure shall I revisit Montevideo! There is perhaps more of a French atmosphere about the capital of Uruguay than any other South American city, and it has just enough exotic charm to quicken our pleasure at finding French sympathies in these foreign hearts. We get a view from the deck of the _Regina Elena_, as we pass, of the _Cerro_, which is something like the Mont-Valérien of Paris, and which in this land of flat alluvial soil assumes a very great importance. Like its prototype, it is crowned with a bristling line of fortifications, and Uruguay is so proud of this phenomenon that it has placed the _Cerro_ in the national arms, where it figures in the form of a green sugar-loaf; no good Oriental omits to tell you that there is nothing like it in the Argentine. Under the stinging breeze of the persistent _pampero_, our "screw" began to turn again in the heavy, clayey waters, with a slow, regular rhythm. To-morrow at daybreak we shall be looking through our glasses at the port of Buenos Ayres. The estuary of the Rio de la Plata (Silver River[2]) that we have now entered is a veritable sea. Though this immense sheet of water is practically landlocked, there is no trace of land on the horizon. It is said to be as wide as the Lake of Geneva is long, not far short of thirty miles, spreading to nearly five times these dimensions at its mouth, after a course of 350 kilometres. The area covered by the estuary is larger than Holland. Two big rivers, the Uruguay and the Parana, pour their waters into this enormous _cul de sac_, which is often ruffled by an unpleasant sea, as at this moment, and, after their junction at the small town of Nueva Palmira, in Uruguay, they project into the Atlantic a huge volume of water drawn from a vast watershed representing one quarter of South America. The tide is felt nearly a hundred miles above the confluence. Montevideo, 200 kilometres from Buenos Ayres, seems to guard the entrance of this inner sea, whilst the Argentine capital, situated on the opposite shore, is almost at the extremity of the bay. Clay deposits, silted down by a relatively weak current, clog the estuary and require constant dredging to keep the channel open to vessels of large tonnage. This is the problem which faces the port authorities of Buenos Ayres. At last the town comes in sight. From out the grey clouds driven by the _pampero_ there emerge the massive shapes of the tall elevators--those lofty cubes of masonry so dear to North America. Neither church steeples nor any other prominent monuments. Low, prosaic banks, barely distinguishable from the water, a few clumps of palms here and there, unbroken plains, an utter absence of background to the picture. We are preceded by two pilot boats, their flags flying in honour of the President of the Republic, who is lunching on board a training ship within the harbour. Very slowly the _Regina Elena_ brings up at the quayside. The gangway is put out, and behold a delegation of the Argentine Senate, accompanied by an officer from the President's military household, sent to welcome me. A deputation from the French colony also arrives, having at its head the governor of the French Bank of Rio de la Plata, M. Py. Cordial handshakes: a thousand questions from either side. Friendly greetings are exchanged, some of them taking almost the form of brief harangues in which the mother-country is not forgotten. Journalists swarm round us. As might be expected, the _Prensa_, _Nacion_, and _Diario_ have each a word to say. I offer my best thanks to the members of the Senate. Farewell to the excellent Captain with my best wishes. Then I get into the motor-car which ten minutes later drops me at the door of my hotel. I am in the Argentine Republic. Henceforth I must keep my eyes open. Buenos Ayres first. It is a large European city, giving everywhere an impression of hasty growth, but foreshadowing, too, in its prodigious progress, the capital of a continent. The Avenida de Mayo, as wide as the finest of our boulevards, recalls Oxford Street in the arrangement of its shop-fronts and the ornamental features of its buildings. It starts from a large public square, rather clumsily decorated and closed on the sea side by a tall Italian edifice, known as the _Palais Rose_, in which Ministers and President hold their sittings; it is balanced at the other end of the avenue by another large square with the House of Parliament, a colossal building nearly approaching completion, with a cupola that resembles that of the Capitol of Washington. Every style of architecture is to be seen, from the showy, the more frequent, to the sober, comparatively rare. The finest building is without question that of the wealthy _Prensa_, which we shall visit later. There is an epidemic of Italian architecture in Buenos Ayres. Everywhere the eye rests on astragals and florets, amid terrible complications of interlaced lines. I except the dainty villas and imposing mansions which call public attention to the dwellings of the aristocracy. I suppose that the business quarters of all cities present the same features. The commercial quarter of Buenos Ayres is the most crowded imaginable. Highways that seemed spacious twenty or thirty years ago for a population of two or three hundred thousand souls have become lamentably inadequate for a capital city with more than a million. The footway, so narrow that two can scarcely walk abreast, is closely shaved by a tramway, which constitutes a danger to life and limb. The traffic is severely regulated by a careful police. But so congested with foot passengers do certain streets become of an afternoon that they have had to be closed to vehicles. In spite of the wisest of precautions, the problem of shopping in the chief business district is not easily solved. To stroll along, or, still worse, to pause to look in at a shop window, is out of the question. Politeness demands here that the honours of the road be paid to age as to sex; so if by chance, in the confusion, you come upon a friend, you must stand on the outer edge of the pavement so as to check as little as possible the flood of human beings driven inwards by the almost continuous passing of the tramway. It is only just to add that this means of locomotion, which is universally adopted here, is remarkably well organised. Still, there are occasions when one must go on foot, and the municipal government, which has laid out elsewhere broad highways in which cabs, carriages, and motors may take their revenge for the scanty accommodation afforded them in the overcrowded centre, is faced with the urgent necessity of laying out hundreds of millions of francs in a scheme for street improvement that cannot be much longer postponed. One of the peculiarities of Buenos Ayres is that you can see no end to it. Since on the side of the Pampas there is no obstacle to building operations, small colonial houses, similar to those that attracted my notice at Montevideo, make a fringe on the edge of the city, that extends ever farther and farther into the plain in proportion as building plots in the city area--the object of perpetual speculation--rise in value. Some of brick, some of plaster or cement, these villas make comfortable quarters in a land where no chimney-stacks are needed. The quality of the building, however, goes down naturally as one draws nearer the Pampas. The lowest end of the scale offers the greatest simplification: walls of clay dried in the sun, with a roof of corrugated iron, or the more primitive _rancho_, supported on empty oil-cans, placed at convenient distances, with the spaces filled in with boughs or thatch. One hardly knows whether this outer edge of habitations can fairly be included in the city area or not. The motor-car has been travelling so long that a doubt is permissible. The track is only a more or less level, earth road, which just allows the car to run over its surface but cannot be said to add anything to the pleasure of the drive. The drawback in this country is the absence of wood, of stone, and of coal. No doubt in the more distant provinces there are still fine forests, which are being ruthlessly devastated either for _québracho_ (the tree that is richest in tannin), or for fuel for factory furnaces; but the cost of transport is so great that the more prosperous part of the Republic gets its timber from Norway. Uruguay, on the other hand, supplies a stone that is excellent both for building and for macadam and paving: a heavy expense. As for coal, it is the return cargo of English vessels which carry as inward freight frozen meat and live cattle. Without comparing in density of shipping with the ports of London, or New York, or Liverpool, a noble line of sea-monsters may be seen here stretching seven miles in length, most of them being rapidly loaded or unloaded in the docks by powerful cranes. The scene has been a hundred times described, and offers here no specially characteristic features. I should need a volume if I tried to describe the plan and equipment of the docks of Buenos Ayres. Those who take an interest in the subject can easily get all the information they need. The rest will be grateful to me for resisting the temptation to quote long lists of figures copied from technical reports. Here it will suffice for me to state that there are two ports--the _Riachuelo_ and the "port of the capital." The former is a natural harbour formed by a stream of the same name. It is used as the auxiliary of the other, which is finely fitted with every appliance of modern science. More than 30,000 craft, sail and steam, come in and out annually, including at least 4000 from overseas. The big grain elevators have been described over and over again. Those of Buenos Ayres are no whit inferior to the best of the gigantic structures of North America. Each can load 20,000 tons of grain in a day. To one there is attached a mill said to be the largest in the world. Covered by way of precaution with the long white shirt that stamped us at once as real millers, we wandered pleasantly enough amongst the millstones and bolters which transform the small grey wheat of the Pampas into fine white flour. Our Beauce farmers accustomed to heavy ears of golden wheat would not appreciate this species, which, moreover, requires careful washing. We were told that it is the richest in gluten of all known species. Diabetics know, therefore, for what to ask. The slaughter-houses of the Negra, round which I was taken by M. Carlos Luro (son of a Frenchman) form a model establishment in which no less than 1200 oxen are killed daily, without counting sheep and pigs--a faithful copy of the famous slaughter-houses of North America. The beast, having reached the end of a _cul de sac_, is felled by a blow from a mallet and slips down a slope, at the foot of which the carotid artery is cut. After this operation, the body is hooked up by a small wagon moving along an aerial rail, and is then carried through a series of stages which end in its being handed over in two pieces to the freezing chambers to await speedy shipment for England--the great market for Argentine meat. The whole is performed with a rapidity so disconcerting that the innocent victim of our cannibal habits finds himself in the sack ready for freezing, with all his inside neatly packed into tins, before he has had time to think. "We use everything but his squeals," said a savage butcher of Chicago. Veterinaries are in attendance to inspect each beast, which in the event of its being condemned is immediately burnt. The first colonists, arriving by sea, naturally built their town close to the port. The capital now, in its prosperity, seeks refinement of every kind, and laments that the approach to the seacoast is disfigured by shipping, elevators, and wharves. The same might be said of any great seaport. Buenos Ayres in reality needs a new harbour, but it looks as if the present one could scarcely be altered. It is naturally in this part of the town that you find the wretched shanties which are the first refuge of the Italian immigrants whilst waiting for an opportunity to start off again. Here is to be seen all the sordid misery of European towns with the accompaniment of the usual degrading features. I hasten to add that help--both public and private--is not lacking. The ladies of Buenos Ayres have organised different charitable works, and visit needy families; as generosity is one of the leading traits in the Argentine character, much good is done in this way. There are no external signs of the feminine degradation that disfigures our own public streets. Why is it that this swarm of Italians should stop in crowded Buenos Ayres instead of going straight out to the Pampas, where labour is so urgently needed? I was told that the harvest frequently rots on the fields for want of reapers, and this in spite of wages that rise as high as twenty francs per day. There are a good many reasons for this. In the first place, such wages as this are only for a season of a few months or weeks. Then again, these Italian labourers complain that if they venture far from the city, they have no protection against the overbearing of officials, who are inclined to take advantage of their privileged position. I do not want to dwell on the point. The same complaints--but more detailed--reached me in Brazil. Both the Argentine and Brazilian Governments, to whom I submitted the charges brought against their representatives, protested that whenever any abuse could be proved against an agent he was proceeded against with the utmost rigour of the law. There can be no doubt as to the good faith of the authorities, who have every interest in encouraging the rapid growth of the population in the Pampas. Besides, it must be borne in mind that the elements of immigration are never of the highest quality. Still, I should not be surprised to learn that there was occasion for a stricter control in the direction I have indicated. So far, I have said nothing of the beauties of the city. It is a pity that amongst the attractions of Buenos Ayres the sea cannot be counted. A level shore does not lend itself to decorative effect. A mediocre vegetation; water of a dirty ochre, neither red nor yellow; nothing to be found to charm the eye. So I saw the sea only twice during my stay at Buenos Ayres--once on arrival, and again when I left. During the summer heat, that section of the population which is not compelled to stay flees to Mar del Plata, the Trouville of Buenos Ayres, a charming conglomeration of beflowered villas on an ocean beach. A perfectly healthy city. No expense has been spared to satisfy the demands of a good system of municipal sanitation. Avenues planted with trees, gardens and parks laid out to ensure adequate reserves of fresh air, are available to all, and lawns exist for youthful sports. The zoölogical and botanical gardens are models of their kind. A fine racecourse, surrounded by the green belt of foliage of the Argentine Bois de Boulogne, is known as Palermo. A Frenchman, the genial M. Thays, well known amongst his European colleagues, has entire control of the plantations and parks of Buenos Ayres. M. Thays, who excels in French landscape gardening, takes delight in devoting his whole mind and life to his trees, his plants and flowers. He is ready at any moment to defend his charge against attacks--an attitude that is wholly superfluous, since the public of Buenos Ayres never lets slip an opportunity of testifying its gratitude to him. Wherever he discovers a propitious site, the master-gardener plants some shoot which will one day be a joy to look upon. He has laid out and planted fine parks. He has large greenhouses at his disposal, and any prominent citizen, or any association popular or aristocratic can, for the asking, have the floral decorations needed for a fête delivered at his door by the municipal carts. In his search after rare plants for the enrichment of his town, M. Thays has visited equatorial regions--the Argentine, Bolivia, Brazil. As his ambition vaults beyond the boundaries of Buenos Ayres, he has conceived a project, already in process of execution, of founding a great national park, as in the United States, in which all the marvels of tropical vegetation may be collected. The Falls of Iguazzu--greater and loftier than those of Niagara--would be enclosed in this vast estate on the very frontiers of Brazil. Apart from these plans of conquest, which make him a rival of Alexander, M. Thays is a modest, affable man, who takes a good deal of trouble to look as if he had done nothing out of the common. Were I but competent I would describe the organisation of his botanical garden, which is superior to any to be found in the old continent. More amusing is it, perhaps, to follow him through the various sections in which the characteristic flora of every part of the world is well represented. The Argentine, as may be supposed, has here the larger share. Here are displayed specimens of the principal species of flora to be found in the district lying between the frozen regions of Tierra del Fuego and the Equator: the Antarctic beech, the carob palm, the _québracho_ (rendered extraordinarily durable by the quantity of tannin it contains, and in great request for railway sleepers), walnut, and the cedar of Tucuman or of Mendoza--which, by the way, is not a cedar. It is from its wood that cigar boxes are made. It is used in the woodwork of rich houses, for it is easy to handle and highly decorative by reason of its warm colouring. Its fault is that it warps; wherever you find it in house fittings, doors and windows refuse to open or shut as they should. But you should see M. Thays doing the honours of the _ombu_ and the _palo borracho_. The _ombu_ is the marvel of the Pampas, the sole tree which the locust refuses to touch. For this reason alone, it has been allowed to grow freely, though not even man has found a way to utilise what the voracious insects of Providence decline. For the _ombu_ prides itself on being good for nothing. It does not even lend itself to making good firewood. It is only to look at. But that is sufficient. Imagine an object resembling the backs of antediluvian monsters, mastodons or elephants, lying in the shade of a great mass of sheltering foliage. Heavy folds in the grey rind denote a growing limb, a rounded shoulder, a gigantic head half concealed. These are the tremendous roots of the _ombu_, whose delight it is to issue forth from the soil in the form of astonishing animated objects. When by foot and stick you have ascertained that these living shapes are in reality mummified within a thick bark, you turn your attention to the trunk itself and find it hollow, with a crumbling surface. Another surprise! The finger sinks into the tree, meeting only the sort of resistance that would be offered by a thin sheet of paper. And now fine powdery scales of a substance which should be wood, but, in fact, is indescribable, fall into your hand. They crumble away into an impalpable dust, which is carried off by the breeze before you have had time to examine it. Now you have the secret of the _ombu_. Its wood evaporates in the open air; at the same time there spring from its strangely beast-like roots young and living shoots of the parent tree. Since it is impossible to burn the non-existent, you cannot, obviously, have recourse to the _ombu_ to cook your lunch. Here is an example in the vegetable world of paradox, which has no mission in life but a glorious uselessness. If it were but beautiful I should recommend the _ombu_ to poets who profess to prefer the Beautiful to the Useful. But as its appearance does not impress the beholder, the wisest course is to impute its existence to momentary abstraction on the part of the Creator. The _palo borracho_, on the other hand, is extremely useful, though not without a touch of capriciousness. Its popular name, which signifies "the drunkard," has been given to it on the ground that it seems to stagger; but such a name is a libel. This peaceful denizen of the forest has nothing to do with the alcoholic world. Nor can it be said to attract human society, for its strange trunk, strangled in a collar of roots, and bulging in its middle parts, bristles with innumerable points, short and sharp, which prevent all undue familiarity. These thorns fall with age, at least from the lower part of the tree, but as they exist elsewhere, even on the smallest twig, no animal, from man to monkey, can venture upon its branches. The trunk, if tapped with a cane, returns a hollow sound. The tree is, in fact, empty, needing only to be cut into lengths to give man all he needs for a trough. The Indian squaw uses it to wash her linen, and the wood, exposed to the double action of air and water, becomes as hard as cement. The unripe fruit, the size of a good apple, furnishes a white cream, which, if not quite the quality demanded for five o'clock tea at Rumpelmayer's, still supplies the natives with a savoury breakfast. Later, when the fruit comes to maturity, it bursts under the sun's rays into a large tuft of silky cotton, dotting the branches with white balls and furnishing admirable material for the birds with which to build their nests. It is for this reason that the species is known as the "false cotton-tree." The exceedingly fine thread produced by this tree is too short to be spun, but the Indians, and even Europeans, turn it to account in many different ways. Soft pillows and cushions are made with it, and I can speak personally of their comfort. M. Thays was not the man to let us leave without seeing his plantations of _yerba-maté_. Every one knows that _maté_, the Paraguay holly, is a native of Paraguay, whence it spread to Chili, Brazil, and the Argentine. Its leaves, dried and slightly roasted, yield a stimulating infusion that is as much enjoyed by the South American colonists as by the natives. Like kola, tea, and coffee, _maté_ contains a large proportion of caffeine, which renders it a good nerve tonic and, at the same time, a digestive. I have tasted "Paraguay tea," or "Jesuits' tea," on several occasions, but cannot honestly say I like it. The palate, however, ends by getting used to anything. I have a friend who drinks valerian with pleasure. All South America delights in the peculiar aroma of the strengthening but, on first acquaintance, certainly unpleasant _maté_. Existence in the Pampas is strenuous. The days are past when a cow was lassoed to provide a beefsteak for your lunch. The favourite stimulant of the _rancho_ is the _yerba-maté_ which puts new life into the exhausted horseman. Everywhere in town and country, the first rite in the morning is _maté_-drinking. Men and women carry the little gourd around, into which each in turn dips the tube of the _bombilla_, a perforated disc which travels from mouth to mouth, in the company of devotees. In the old days, it was the tradition of _maté_-making to give the first infusion--poured off quickly, but invariably slightly bitter--to the servants. Growing familiarity with the herb has practically set aside this practice: in fact, while it is, and probably always will be, the favourite drink of the masses, the aristocracy and _bourgeoisie_, though still appreciating _maté_, drink in preference China tea or Santos coffee, like good Europeans. Yet the consumption of _maté_ has increased enormously with the population. It has been calculated that an Argentino spends twice as much in a year on _maté_ as a Frenchman on coffee. Until the last few years the Argentine Republic, independently of its home production, imported from Brazil and Paraguay 40 millions of kilogrammes, estimated at 22 millions of francs. As might be expected, the Argentine Government has shown itself anxious to encourage the cultivation of _maté_. The difficulty lay in the germinating process. In certain provinces of the Argentine, _maté_ grew wild, but when sown the crops were a failure. After many trials, M. Thays discovered that the seed only sprouted after long soaking in warm water, and that, strangely enough, the plants thus produced could be propagated without repeating this preliminary process. It appears that in the ordinary course of nature, the fertilising process takes place in the stomach of birds. The Jesuits had made the same discovery, but on their expulsion they carried the secret away with them. M. Thays rediscovered it. More than once an attempt has been made to introduce the habit of _maté_-drinking into Europe. I do not think it will easily come about. It would, nevertheless, be a great boon if _yerba-maté_ could with us, as in South America, be substituted for the alcohol which is threatening us with irrevocable destruction. I cannot leave the Botanical Garden without noting the pleasing effect of the light trellises which are a feature of all large gardens here. In this fine climate, where winter's cold is practically unknown, neither shrubs nor flowers need the protection of glass. An arbour of trellis-work with gay flower-borders forms a winter garden without glass, in which sun and shade, cunningly blended, throw into delicate relief the beauties of the plants. It is not quite the open air, and neither is it the greenhouse. Let us call it a vast cage of decorative vegetation. FOOTNOTES: [1] The census of 1904 shows only twenty-nine thousand. [2] The estuary, which is not a river, and which contains not a particle of silver, was thus named from a few native ornaments discovered in its bed by the first comers. CHAPTER III BUENOS AYRES (_continued_) Botany and zoölogy are sister sciences. We leave the plants to inspect the beasts in the company of M. Thays, who is always glad to see his neighbour M. Onelli. The governor of the Zoölogical Garden of Buenos Ayres is a phlegmatic little man, Franco-Italian in speech, and the more amusing in that his gay, caustic wit is clothed in a highly condensed, ironical form. What a pity that his animals, for whom he is father and mother, sister and brother, cannot appreciate his sallies! Not that it is by any means certain that they do not. It seems clear that they can enter into each other's feelings, if not thoughts, since an intimacy of the most touching kind exists between the man and inferior creation, to whose detriment the rights of biological priority have been reversed. I should like to pause before the llamas, used as beasts of burden to carry a load of twenty-five kilogrammes apiece, or before the vicuñas, whose exquisite feathery fur is utilised for the motor-car, and whose private life would need to be told in Latin by reason of the officious interference of the Indian in matters that concern him not a whit. M. Onelli has housed the more prominent groups in palaces in the style of architecture peculiar to their native land, and this gives to the gardens a very pleasing aspect. But first let us enjoy the animals. It is amazing to see the two monstrous hippopotami leap from the water with movements of ridiculous joyfulness in response to the whistle of their governor-friend, and, on a sign from him, open their fearful caverns of pink jaws bristling with formidable teeth to receive with the utmost gratitude three blades of grass which they could easily cull for themselves beneath their feet if these manifestations of joy were called forth by the delicacy and not by friendship. The great beasts became human at sight of their master, if one may thus describe ferocity. The puma, a sort of yellow panther whose colour has apparently won for him the name of the American lion, came running up to offer his back to the caressing hand of his friend with a hoarse roar that seemed to express rather helpless rage than voluptuousness. The puma is perhaps the commonest of the wild beasts of the northern provinces of the Argentine, for it retreats from before the approach of man, and is more successful than the jaguar or the panther in escaping the traps or the guns of the hunter. M. Edmond Hilleret, who has killed several, told me that at Santa Ana, near Tucuman, it was impossible to keep a flock of sheep, as they were always devoured by the pumas in spite of all the efforts he made to protect them. "Yet," he added, "notwithstanding my dogs and my peons the puma can never be seen. He is quite a rarity." After a short palaver with some delicious penguins newly arrived from the southern ice, with their young, which would die of spleen if they were not fed with a forcing pipe, like an English suffragette, we pause before the grey ostrich of the Pampas, which has been nearly exterminated by the cruel lasso of the _gaucho_. The grey American ostrich, which should be safe from our barbarous ways since his tail feathers offer no attraction for ladies' hats, is interesting by certain peculiarities in his domestic habits. To the male is left the duty of hatching the eggs, the female preferring to stray. By way of compensation, the paternal instinct is the more keenly developed in the father in proportion as the mother--reprehensible bird!--neglects her duties. Thus before beginning to sit on the eggs, he sets carefully aside two or three of them, according to the number of young to be hatched, and when the little ones leave their shells, he opens them with a sharp blow from the paternal beak, and spreads in the sunshine the contents of the eggs his foresight had reserved; the appetising dish attracts thousands of flies who promptly drown themselves therein to make the first meal of the fledglings. Admirable instance of the contradictory processes of nature designed for the preservation of existing types. But we have come to the palace of the elephants. There are half a dozen of them beneath a vast dome, and the sight of M. Onelli rouses them all. The heavy grey masses sway from side to side, large ears beat up and down, while the small eyes wink; the trunks are flung inquiringly round, eager for any windfall. One amiable and tame elephant, the youthful Fahda, born on the place, hustles her colossal friends, to clear a way to M. Onelli, who talks to her affectionately, but is unable to respond as he should to her pressing request for cakes. The governor gives us the reason of their friendliness. "We have no secrets from each other," he remarks gently. And it was truer than he thought, for the young trunk was softly introduced into his tempting pocket, and brought out a packet of letters which were forthwith swallowed. Thereupon exclamations as late as fruitless from the victim, who thus witnessed the disappearance of his correspondence down the dark passages of an unexpected post-office from which there is no hope of return.[3] M. Onelli kindly offered us a few minutes' rest in his own _salon_. But what did we find there? The housemaid who opened the door to us carried a young puma in her arms, and I know not what sort of hairy beast on her back. The gnashing of white teeth proceeded from under the chairs and coiled serpents lay in the easy-chairs. Indeed, we were not the least tired! Palermo must be visited. The celebrated promenade starts nobly at the Recoleta, where the lawns and groves are seen in a setting of harmonious architecture. Carriages of the most correct British style, drawn by superb horses, and noisy motor-cars dash swiftly by. But for the groups of exotic trees one might be in the Bois. Palermo begins well. Unfortunately, we suddenly find before us an avenue of sickly coco-palms, whose bare trunks are covered with dead leaves, giving an unpleasing perspective of broom-handles. This tree, which is so fine in Brazil, is not in its element here. When planted in rows, even in the streets of Rio, it is more surprising than beautiful. It is in groves that it best displays its full decorative qualities. I take the liberty of suggesting that M. Thays should pull up the horticultural invalids and plant eucalyptus or some other species in their place. But we are not yet at the end of our troubles. Less than two hundred yards down, the railway traverses the avenue on a level crossing. A gate, generally closed, a turnstile for pedestrians, a station, and all the rest of it. After a wait of ten minutes, the train duly passes, and then the motor-car plunges into a roadway, full of ruts, leading to a dark archway which carries another railway across the promenade, making an ugly blot on the landscape. And now we reach a further marshy road, bordered with young plantations, which leads across a leafless wood dividing the railway track from the estuary of La Plata. A succession of trains on one hand, and a muddy yellow sea on the other: as a view it is not romantic. Gangs of labourers are at work on the roads, which are badly in need of their attentions. No doubt some day this will be a superb promenade. It is only a question of making it, and the first step must be to clear away the railway-lines with their embankments and bridges. This is probably the intention, since I was assured that the level crossing would shortly be swept away. That will be a beginning. M. Bouvard is not likely to overlook the importance of the matter. My only fear is lest the situation should make it impossible for Palermo ever to attain to imposing proportions. But one thing is certain, if M. Thays can get a free hand, the city will not lack a park worthy the capital of the Republic. Need I say that squares and parks alike are superabundantly decorated with sculpture and monuments both open to criticism? There is nothing more natural to a young people than a desire to acquire great men in every department as early as possible. Yet idealism that is to be materialised must, one would think, have its base set solidly on established facts. In a country whose population offers a mixture of all the Latin races, art could not fail to flourish. It will free itself from its crust as fast as public taste is purified. Works such as those of M. Paul Groussac, or the fine novel by M. Enrique Rodrigues Larreta,[4] the distinguished Minister of the Argentine Republic in Paris, are evidences of the development of literary taste on the banks of the Rio de la Plata.[5] The sculptor does not appear to have reached quite the same point, but I hasten to add, for the sake of justice, that our own hewers of marble, with a very few prominent exceptions, expose nothing in Buenos Ayres which is calculated to throw into too dark a shade their _confrères_ of across the ocean. France, Italy, and Spain supply some fairly fine statuary for the Latin confraternity. But, as might be readily imagined, a legitimate desire to write history on every square and market-place has given a profusion of monuments to soldiers and politicians. The same mania has been pushed to such extremes in our own land that it would ill become me to make it a subject of reproach to others; nevertheless it behoves us to acknowledge that the Argentine Republic has, both in times of war and of peace, produced some great men. It suffices to mention the names of San Martin (whose statue is being raised at Boulogne-sur-Mer and at Buenos Ayres) and of Sarmiento. If genius were always at the disposal of Governments, the wish to perpetuate to all eternity the renown a single day had won for them might readily be pardoned. But men of genius are rare, and they are apt to make mistakes like other men. And for the rest, the statues that are put up to their memory serve merely to inspire in our breasts a few philosophic reflections on the danger of a permanent propaganda of mediocrity! Besides, the sculptor has this defect--that he forces himself on the attention of the passer-by. We are not compelled to purchase a poor book or to go into ecstasies over all the Chauchard collection, whereas we are unable to avoid the sight of the statue of Two-shoes by Thingummy. My only consolation is that such monuments will not prevent the advent of other supermen in the future, who, like those of the past, will raise their own monuments in a surer and better manner by their own glorious achievements. But it is time to leave these men of marble and come to the living, of whom I have so far said not a word. My remark as to the European aspect of Buenos Ayres at first sight must be taken as referring merely to its outdoor life. I do not speak of the business quarter, which is the same in all countries. The man who is glued to the telegraph wire or to the telephone, waiting for the latest quotations in the different parts of the globe in order to build on them his own careful combinations, is, notwithstanding his patriotism, an international type whose world-wide business connection must in time modify his own characteristics and make of him the universal species of merchant. At the same time, the population of any large European city, while preserving in its general outline the special characteristic evolved by its own history, does yet show a certain trend in the direction of some well-defined types of modern activity whose attributes are the outcome of natural conditions of civilisation the world over. But when transplanted outside Europe, the original characteristics are inevitably modified by the new environment, and the result will be a striking differentiation--North America is an example of this. In the eyes of our ancient Europe, with its venerable traditions and its base of primeval prejudice, the man who ventures to strike a new root in a colony beyond the sea will have to expiate his new prosperity by some extravagances which will expose him to the fire of the satirical pressman or playwright. This is the reason why South America, having undoubtedly borne in common with every country of Europe some few fantastic types of high and of low ideals, suddenly finds herself represented to the public, for the greater entertainment of the boulevard, as being exclusively peopled with those strange creatures we have christened _rastaquouères_, whose privilege it is to lead a life that is ever at variance with all the laws of common-sense. If all we ask is a joke at the expense of our neighbours, the Gauls of Paris may give rein to their wit. Still, it may be useful for us all to know that these so-called _rastaquouères_, leaving to petty tyrants the whole field of ancient history, have not only secured to their country by their steady labour its present prosperity, but have also founded in their new domain a European civilisation which is no whit inferior in inspiration to that which we are for ever vaunting. They learn our languages, invade our colleges, absorb our ideas and our methods, and passing from France to Germany and England, draw useful comparisons as to the results obtained. We are pleased to judge them more or less lightly. Let us not forget that we in our turn are judged by them. And while we waste our time quarrelling about individuals and names, they are directing a steady effort toward taking from each country of Europe what it has of the best, in order to build up over yonder on a solid base a new community which will some day be so much the more formidable that its own economic force will perhaps have as a counterbalance the complications of a European situation that is not tending toward solution. In spite of everything, France has managed to maintain so far friendly and sympathetic relations with the Republic. Latin idealism keeps these South American nations ever facing toward those great modern peoples that have sprung from the Roman conquest. I cannot say I think we have drawn from this favourable condition of things all the advantage we might have derived from it, both for the youthful Republics and for our Latinity, which is being steadily drained by the huge task of civilisation and by the vigorous onslaught that it is called on to sustain from the systematic activity of the Northern races. The great Anglo-Saxon Republic of North America, tempered by the same Latin idealism imported in the eighteenth century from France by Jefferson, is making of a continent a modern nation whose influence will count more and more in the affairs of the globe. May it not be that South America, whose evolution is the result of lessons taught to some extent by the Northern races, will give us a new development of Latin civilisation corresponding to that which has so powerfully contributed to the making of Europe as we know it? It is here no question obviously of an organised rivalry of hostile forces between two great American peoples, who must surely be destined both by reason of their geographical situation, as also by mental affinities, to unite their strength to attain to loftier heights. The problem, which ought not to be shirked by France, will be henceforth to maintain in the pacific evolution of these communities the necessary proportion of idealism which she had a large share in planting there. In following such a train of thought, how can we help pausing for an instant to consider the Pan-American Congress which so fitly closed the splendid exhibition of the Argentine centenary? With the sole exception of Bolivia, every republic of South America sent a representative to the palace of the Congress to discuss their common interests--an imposing assembly, which in the dignity of its debates can bear comparison with any Upper Chamber of the Continent of Europe. For my part, I sought in vain for one of those excitable natures, ever ripe for explosion--the fruit, according to tradition, of equatorial soil. I found only jurisconsults, historians, men of letters or of science, giving their opinions in courteous language, whose example might with advantage be followed by many an orator in the Old Continent. Not, of course, that passions were wholly absent from these debates. In these new countries, where the strength of youth finds a free field for its display, and where revolution and war are the chief traditions of the race, warmth of feeling has too frequently transformed the political arena into a field of battle. But by degrees, as the community takes form and acquires greater weight in every domain of public life, there grows up an imperious need of organised action, and the youthful democrats themselves end by realising that a people can only govern itself when its citizens have proved themselves capable of self-discipline. Of all the problems which might naturally present themselves in a Pan-American Congress, those that might be expected to call forth implacable opposition were rigorously eliminated. An exchange of views took place, and each delegate was able to report to his principals a number of conclusions calculated to pave the way to future understandings. When the Congress threw out the proposal to generalise the Monroe Doctrine and apply its principle to the whole of the South American continent, the representative of a large State said to me: "We shall separate without accomplishing anything." "It is already much to have avoided all conflict," I replied, "and if you had really accomplished nothing you would still have been useful in that you had met, talked together, understood one another, and parted on good terms." Perhaps the man whose position was the most delicate of all was Mr. Henry White, the delegate of the great northern Republic, and the distinguished diplomat so popular in Parisian society, who contributed to the utmost of his power towards finding an equitable solution of the Franco-German conflict at the Algeciras Conference. At the Congress of Buenos Ayres, the delegate of Washington had, like the representative of Uruguay, one vote only, and his efforts were directed to making his collaborators forget that he was a "big brother," a very big brother, faintly suspected of tendencies towards an hegemony. It took all the gracious affability of Mr. White to disarm the distrust aroused more especially by the proposal to place Southern America under the banner of the Monroe Doctrine, and thus the Congress could be dissolved without a word of any but good-will and American brotherhood. The Pan-American Congress was the natural outcome of the great international exhibition by which the Argentine Republic celebrated the centenary of its independence. The great fairs of older times existed with very good reason. There was every advantage to be gained by bringing together at stated times the produce of different districts at a period of the world's history when the deficiency of means of communication placed insurmountable obstacles in the way of producer, merchant, and consumer. To-day, thanks to steampower, every city in the world offers a permanent exhibition adapted to the needs of its public, and the traveller wastes his time when he endeavours to bring back from his journeys some article unknown to his countrymen. For this reason the finest of international exhibitions can reserve no surprises to its visitors. And as for experts, or specialists in any branch of commerce or industry, he is to be pitied who awaits the opening of one of these universal bazaars in order to obtain information on some detail of his business. There remain evidently the amusements and entertainments which in such gatherings are naturally intended to arouse the pleasure-loving instincts of crowds. But civilisation has pretty well surfeited us with such amusements, which are now better calculated to tempt than to satisfy us. And when the friendly city that summons us to such a show is situated 11,000 kilometres from our shores, it requires a more powerful attraction than this of the "already seen" to induce us to undertake the expedition. For all these reasons and without seeking any others the Buenos Ayres Exhibition could not be a success either in the way of money or of the concourse of peoples. An unfortunate and ultra-modern strike retarded the arrangements to such a point that on the anniversary day, May 25th, only the section of _ganaderia_ (cattle-breeding) was ready. Notwithstanding a multitude of difficulties, pavilions were put up, in which were amassed and docketed in the usual fashion some of those products which the greed for gold brings to all the depots of the world. A few special side-shows were remarkably successful. Of these may be mentioned the English exhibit of the railway industry and the German section of electricity. Some of the buildings were never completed, as that of the Spanish section. France, I regret to say, did not distinguish herself. The omission is inconceivable when one considers what a market might in this way have been found for our manufactures. Apart from some interesting displays by dressmakers, jewellers, and goldsmiths, exhibited in a tasteful pavilion slightly resembling Bagatelle, and called the Palace of Applied Art, we found nothing to send. I admit that for France this was not sufficient. England, however, exhibited a magnificent State railway-carriage--said to be worth two millions--which she presented to the President of the Republic. It is a luxury that the English might very well permit themselves, since almost all the railways of the Argentine are in their hands. And why, if you please? Because the engineer who one day invited tenders for the construction of the first Argentine railway-line found in Paris no support, and from our capital (I have it from his own lips) he turned to London, where the enterprise was carried to colossal proportions. We could hardly help being represented in the art and sculpture pavilions. I can honestly say that our exhibit, well-organised, was highly creditable to the nation. But, without any tremendous effort, we might have done much better! We reckoned, perhaps, on the Argentine millionaires coming to Paris to look for the works we failed to exhibit in their capital. If only millionaires were concerned, I should say nothing. But it is precisely because the art education of the Argentine people is as yet rudimentary, as might also be said of more than one nation in ancient Europe, that we ought to have attempted to arouse a wider public interest instead of appealing merely to connoisseurs, who are in the habit of getting what they want in the picture-galleries of the Old World. Some excellent examples were shown, no doubt; that was the least we could do. Our home artists would not risk the experiment of creating a kind of exhibition-museum, which might have been a revelation of French art and have had the effect of arousing the need of the Beautiful which is latent in every nation, and at the same time inviting that intelligent criticism which is a powerful factor in the development of taste in connoisseurs. There is no art museum worthy the name in the Argentine Republic. You must exist before you can add adornment. If, however, I may judge by what I saw in a few private galleries, the time is at hand when the need for large art collections will be fully acknowledged in the south as it is now in the north; there, forty years ago, I know by personal observation that the ground was less fully prepared than it is to-day in the Argentine, while now we see the treasures of Europe being eagerly bought up in order that the New World may soon vie with the Old on this point. I must not omit to say a word on the retrospective exhibit of "colonial days." A centenary celebration implies a history and a past, and this history is remarkably well illustrated by the instruments of civilisation now in the hands of the founders. What a contrast there is between the more than sumptuous railway-carriage of which I spoke just now and the archaic coaches, fat-bellied barouches, and Merovingian chariots which used to pick a painful way across the pathless Pampas, transporting from plantation to plantation families that had but little prospect of ever amassing more than they needed for a bare daily life. Utensils of the simplest, bespeaking a time when wood was scarce. Weapons of the clumsiest, undressed skins as a protection from the occasional blasts of the _pampero_. In a period when the horse was the universal means of locomotion--he still is as a matter of fact, to a very great extent, since in the country the little children must mount their ponies to go to school--the equipment of the horseman was a pompous bedizenment in Spanish guise, from his heavy brass ornaments to the rowels of monstrous spurs. All this belongs to the ancient times of scarcely fifty years ago, and when you meet a _gaucho_ on his thick-set horse, his feet in weighty wooden stirrups hanging vertically like wheels, you realise that the modern miracle of iron roads has not been able to entirely wipe out the primitive machinery of a world of colonists. The section of Argentine produce--cattle, timber, plants, fruits, cereals, etc.--is specially interesting to foreigners. To describe it would be to write the economic history of the land. I heard on all sides that the cattle exhibits were exceptionally fine. I am not astonished, now that I have seen in the shows and on the _estancias_ (farms) the finest of stock for breeding purposes. We know that out on the Pampas the rearing of horses and horned cattle as well as of sheep has developed enormously. I shall have occasion presently to return to the subject when I speak of the famous freezing-machines which supply the English markets with meat slaughtered in Buenos Ayres--to say nothing of the live cattle exported. The only detail that I shall give here is that the event of the day has been the purchase by a meat-freezing company of five oxen for beef at the price of 25,000 francs apiece (£1000). This looks like madness, and perhaps it is. We are beginning to learn in Europe to what point the craze for advertisement is carried by Americans. I only quote this fact because it throws more light on certain traits of character than any number of traveller's tales could do. Grain-growing--wheat and maize--like that of flax (of which they burn the stalks for want of knowing how to utilise them) has recently grown enormously. I shall return to this subject also later on, when I speak of the Pampas, with their immense stretch of arable land between the Andes and the sea, yielding every kind of harvest without manure and almost without labour. Wherever the locomotive makes its appearance there blossoms forth a fertile strip of country on either side of the line, which on the plan of the administrators symbolises an instant rise in value of the property whose produce has henceforth a quick means of transport to its market. Had I not firmly resolved to abstain from quoting figures and facts cut out of books of statistics, I could easily dazzle the reader by showing him the fantastic increase in the crops of maize alone, standing in gigantic ricks round the _estancias_, pending the moment when they will be handed over to the gigantic elevators to be flung on board the English and German cargo-boats. Strolling through the galleries in which are accumulated the exhibits of Argentine agricultural produce, you are forced to admire the variety of species yielded by a soil that produces clover two and a half yards in height! I say nothing of the fruits and vegetables, because at that season of the year I could not try them. Neither seemed to me to compete with European varieties. As for the tropical fruits, with the exception of the oranges and pines, they are astonishing, I confess, but I cannot give them any other praise. In the section of Argentine timber is to be seen in the front rank the "false cedar" and the marvellous _québracho_, of which I have already spoken. No other wood can be compared with this in respect of the quantity of tannin it contains. For this reason the immense forests of the northern provinces are being devastated to supply the manufacturers. Railway-sleepers and stakes for the wire-fencing that marks out the immense stretches of Pampas are the principal employment for _québracho_, irrespective of the extraction of tannin. As the demand increases, and the idea of replanting does not seem to have occurred to the Argentinos, it is reasonable to foresee the moment when the Government of the Republic, having neglected to husband its resources, will have only vain lamentations to offer to its customers. The day may be far distant; I do not dispute it. Such an improvident policy is, none the less, reprehensible. How many years, moreover, must elapse between the planting of the young _québracho_ and its maturity? Indeed, the same remarks might be made of all the other species of timber. When you have seen tree-trunks that were many centuries in growth falling bit by bit into the maw of a factory furnace, without any attempt being made to replace them, when you have been saddened by the spectacle of the marvellous Brazilian forests blazing in every direction to make room for coffee plantations that will presently spring up amongst the charred trunks, you realise keenly that there is no more urgent need in these great countries than a complete organisation of forestry. If in some parts of Brazil the soil will no longer yield freely without the help of manure, the water system, at all events, remains unchanged. In the Argentine Pampas the case is very different, for the reason that the watercourses disappear into the ground before reaching the sea. When the immense forests of the highlands have disappeared to make way for plateaux open to wind and sun, can we doubt but that the already terrible scourge of drought will be still further aggravated, and its disastrous effects on cattle and harvests be even more redoubtable than they are at present? I must resist the temptation of dwelling on the interesting exhibits of the South American Republics. I should never finish. Neither must I wander any farther from the Argentine capital to set down reflections that will more fitly suggest themselves later. Nevertheless I cannot leave the exhibition without mentioning the extraordinary establishment in which the Rural Society holds its annual cattle-shows--vast stables and stalls, constructed according to the latest pattern on English model farms. There is accommodation perhaps for more than 500 horned cattle, or horses, and for 700 or 800 probably in the paddocks, while 4000 sheep can be penned under a single roof, the whole completed by an enclosure for trials with seating accommodation for 2000 persons. These shows take place every year in October. They are closed by a sale at which the beasts are put up at auction. No better system of gauging the progress of the breeding industry could be devised. As many as 4000 animals have been brought together for these shows, collected from all parts of the country, including stallions of the best breeds, Durham and Herefordshire cows, to say nothing of pigs, llamas, and poultry. Agricultural machinery and dairy implements also find a place here, of course. It is in this colossal cattle-rearing city that the greatest effort of production ever made has been concentrated. I saw at Rosario a magnificent cattle show. But the great Fair of Buenos Ayres outdoes anything to be offered elsewhere of the kind. I shall have to return to the subject when I come to the _estancias_ and the vast herds that belong to them. Here it suffices to note that the Argentine breeders do not shrink from any expense in order to obtain the most perfect stallions. England is, of course, the chief market for the frozen meat, which is carried as return cargo by the coaling-boats. Naturally the farmers of the Pampas endeavour to suit the tastes of their customers. This is why the finest specimens of British cattle-farms find their way every year to Buenos Ayres. It is not surprising that the horse-breeders have adopted the same course, though full justice is done to the qualities of French breeds. Still, the English breeder best understands how to make an outlet for his wares, whilst the French prefers to sit in the sun on the plains of Caen to wait until the foreigner comes to ask him as a favour for his animals. FOOTNOTES: [3] One word about M. Onelli's interesting work, _À Travers les Andes_, an accurate account of his journey in Patagonia. When describing to me the customs of the natives, he was good enough to promise me a few arrowheads collected in the course of his expedition. They reached me the following day with this letter: "My dear Sir,--After rummaging amongst my drawers, I finally found the arrowheads you wanted. The book which accompanies them, a humble homage to yourself, describes the places in which I found them. If you are good enough to glance at it you will find several photographs of the descendants of the makers of these arrows. The Tchuleches Indians, who to the number of rather more than 2000 live in the southern half of Patagonia, say, when shown one of these arrowheads, which are to be found all over the arid plateau they inhabit, that they were the usual weapon of the Indians of olden times who travelled on foot. We know that they did not know the horse until a hundred and fifty years ago, at most, and, in fact, one may say that the Stone Age represented by these arrowheads only ended in Patagonia a half-century ago. The arrows to be found in Patagonia demonstrate in a contrary manner the influence of civilised industries, since the heads the most clumsily made are the most modern. The Indians lost little by little the art of making them when they learnt to make the shafts of fragments of knife-blades, or of iron obtained from the Christians, and since then they have completely abandoned the work to adopt firearms. In the preparation of guanaco skins, the Indian women, naturally more conservative than the men, still use the old system of scraping the under side of the leather with scrapers made of stone, in every way similar to the tool used by prehistoric man in European lands. Nowadays, having no means of making them, they search in their leisure moments in the ancient dwellings of their forefathers in order to find a flint scraper, which they carefully use and preserve. "The arrow age still subsists in the north of the Republic among the Indians of the Chaco forests. Their arrows are made of hard wood. On alluvial soils no flint can be found, just as none can be had in the province of Santa Fé, and nearly throughout the whole of the province of Buenos Ayres (a region larger than all France), without a single pebble!--a fact which renders it extremely difficult to keep up good roads across a flat country of crumbling soil without lime. The highway is turned into soft mud by traffic and rain; yet observe the enormous increase of railway lines. "As for the art of making arrowheads, the Stone Age still reigns among the Onas and Lakaluf, natives of Terra del Fuego; but alas! the art has degenerated. The natives of the seacoast, always on the lookout for a whale, dead or wounded, and for fragments of wrecks of sailing vessels rounding Cape Horn, have discovered that bottle glass is the easiest material to work upon for their arrows, and their poor language is thus enriched with a new word; to express 'glass' they say 'botel,' by the natural _quid pro quo_ of a tongue which in adopting a new word confuses the name of the object with that of the material of which it is made. "The opaque black arrowhead is of basalt, the most abundant kind of rock in Patagonia, but also the most difficult to use in the manufacture of such small objects. Obsidian--the little black point of flint--is more generally used. "The twisted forms are moulds of flint of the inside of a tertiary fossil mollusc, the 'turritella,' very common in the strata of the Rio Santa Cruz cliffs, and which Indian women often wear as ornaments. In the hope you will excuse my bad French, since I have had the presumption to write direct to you instead of being translated into good French, "I am, my dear sir, yours, etc., "CLEMENT ONELLI." [4] _La Gloire de Don Ramire._ [5] I quote these two names because they are best known among us in France. But Argentine literature cannot be dismissed in a word. The struggle for independence could not fail to inspire songs to be caught up from ear to ear and sung everywhere, and in the same way the spread of education has naturally turned many minds to literary composition. The struggle with the metropolis and the flame of civil war irresistibly impelled the individual into the arena to take public action, and from the vortex there issued a new nationality. It is from such a period of strife that the first history of a people takes its origin, and the record of deeds wrought under the influence of such excitement is the material from which a nation's archives are derived, fixing for ever the memory of actions that will be revered by the generations to come. In this way, the noble harangues of Moriano Moreno to the Provisional Government, the eloquent proclamations made by General Belgrano after the battles of Salta and Tucuman, the noble letters of San Martin are impressive lessons for all humanity; time can have no effect on the exalted nobility of thought and artistic mode of expression that are here held up before us. Under the savage dictatorship of Rosas, all voices were silenced. Still, Sarmiento from his exile in Chili launched from the heights of the Andes his virulent pamphlets against the odious tyrant. When liberty was regained, Press and rostrum sent forth a legion of writers and orators, at whose head we must place Bartolome Mitré and Nicolas Avellaneda. To come down to our own time, the list of distinguished writers meriting each a special notice would be long indeed. CHAPTER IV FOREIGN COLONISTS IN ARGENTINA It is now time to return to the city to get a little better acquainted with its inhabitants. As a matter of fact, the features upon which I have touched--the town, port, promenades, palaces, settlers' houses, agricultural products, manufactures, or commerce--do more or less reveal the native, and although I have said nothing of his person beyond that he looks very like a European, my reader has certainly gathered some light as to his way of living. To the Argentine _extra muros_, the citizen of Buenos Ayres is the _porteño_--that is, the man of the port, the townsman kept, by the sea, in constant contact with Europe, and more readily undertaking a trip to London or Paris than to Tucuman or Mendoza. On his side, while professing great esteem for the provincials (for in the Argentine patriotism amounts to mania), the _porteño_ is inclined to pity those who pass their lives far from the capital; while the countryman mocks good-humouredly at his strange compatriot who knows naught of the _Campo_, whence are brought to his door the corn and cattle which are the outcome of the highest and mightiest efforts of their common national energy, and which by his means are to be exchanged for European produce in an ever-widening and developing trade. This is, however, but a superficial judgment that we may permit ourselves to make; but if we look more closely into the national character, we shall perceive that if the _porteño_ is the nearer to Europe and hastens thither on the smallest pretext; if he is more thoroughly steeped in European culture; if he takes more interest in the doings of the Old World, attaching the greatest importance to its opinion of his own country; if it is his dearest ambition that the youthful Argentine Republic shall comport herself nobly among the old peoples of a weary civilisation; if it is his constant care to obtain from beyond sea the advantages gained by experience, to be turned to account by his own nation--we should be greatly mistaken in assuming that European contact or descent could lead either citizen or farmer, _porteño_ or _estanciero_, to prefer to his own land that Old Continent which his forefathers deserted, in the hope, already realised, of finding on this virgin soil, fertilised by his own labour, a better chance of success than the Old World could offer him. While the physiognomy of the streets of Buenos Ayres is wholly European in symmetry, style, and even in the expression of the faces to be seen thereon, yet this people is Argentine to the very marrow of the bones--exclusively and entirely Argentine. New York is nearer to Europe, and New York is North American in essence as completely as Buenos Ayres is Argentine. The difference is that in New York, and even in Boston or Chicago, North Americanism is patent to all eyes in type, in carriage, and in voice, as much as in feeling and manner of thinking; whereas the piquancy of Buenos Ayres lies in the fact that it offers the spectacle of rabid Argentinism under a European veil. And, strangely enough, this inherent jingoism, which in some nations that shall be nameless assumes so easily an offensive guise, is here displayed with an amiable candour that is most disarming, and instinctively you seek to justify it to yourself. Not satisfied with being Argentine from top to toe, these people will, if you let them, Argentinise you in a trice. To tell the truth, there are some (I have met a few) who speak ill of the country--and these critics are people who have not even had the excuse of having been unsuccessful in their business affairs here. There are systematic grumblers everywhere, who endeavour to give themselves importance by finding fault with their surroundings. Those who are not pleased with their stay in a foreign country should remind themselves that nobody prevents them from returning to their own. I have already mentioned that many Italians cross the sea for the harvesting in the Argentine, and then, taking advantage of the difference in the seasons, return home to cut their home corn. This backward and forward movement has grown enormously. But in the long run the attraction of a land that overflows with energy defeats atavistic proclivities and weakens roots that are centuries old. And as soon as the settler has become the owner of a few roods of the new soil, he is irrevocably lost to Europe. I have not sought to conceal the fact that the largest number of immigrants make the mistake of stopping at Buenos Ayres, whose population is thus increased out of all proportion with the development of Argentine territory. This mass of working people, who necessarily remain easily accessible to European influences, offers apparently an excellent field for revolutionary propaganda. Anarchists and socialists spare no pains to make proselytes here, in order to strengthen their hands. A violence of speech and action has in this way given to certain strikes a truly European aspect. Still, in a country in which there is a constant supply of work, it is hardly possible that disturbances arising rather from doctrine than from existing social evils can take any hold on or materially affect any considerable extent of territory. If I am to believe what I heard in all parts, the Russian anarchists have a specially redoubtable organisation. To mention only the most recent of events, it is known that the Chief of Police, who had directed in person some ruthless repressive measures, was killed in the street by a bomb thrown by a Russian, who was protected from the full severity of the law by his tender age.[6] Last June, a few days before I left Europe, a bomb was thrown by some unknown person in the Colon Theatre, falling in the middle of the orchestra and wounding more or less seriously a large number of persons. The Colon Theatre, in which opera is given, is the largest and perhaps the handsomest theatre in the world.[7] The open boxes of the pit tier, like those of the first two tiers and orchestra, present, when filled with young women in evening dress, the most brilliant spectacle that I have ever seen in any theatre. In such a setting, imagine the catastrophe that could be caused by a bomb![8] The injured were carried out somehow or other, the house was emptied amid loud and furious outcries, and, the damage having been repaired in the course of the following day, not a woman in society was absent from her place at the performance of the evening. This is a very fine trait of character which does the highest honour to the women of Argentine society. I am not sure that in Paris, under similar circumstances, there would have been a full house on the night following such a disaster. It is easy to understand, however, that the fury of the public found expression in an Act of Parliament of terrible severity, directed immediately against any suspicious groups. The criminal in the present case has not yet been discovered, though during my stay in Buenos Ayres there occurred a sensational arrest which led the authorities to believe they had laid hands on the guilty man. A state of siege was in some sense declared, lasting all the time I was in Buenos Ayres; and the Government obtained extraordinary powers, to be used only against organisations believed to be anarchical. The penalty generally imposed was transportation to Terra del Fuego, under conditions that no one would or, perhaps, could describe to me. I am without the necessary returns for establishing the results obtained. Some complaints reached me from the more populous quarters affirming that the innocent had been punished; all I could do was to hand them over to the authorities. I can testify that in my presence, in any of the circles of Buenos Ayres society that I was able to observe, no anarchist outrages were on any single occasion the subject of conversation. More than once I led up to it. The reply invariably was that the question was one for public authority, that the Government was armed and would take action, and if further powers should prove necessary they would be granted. Then the topic was changed. There is no doubt that the Argentine Government, like that of Great Britain, is resolved to finish, once for all, with crimes which arouse only horror in all the civilised world. In the course of a hasty visit I had occasion to pay to the Police Department, in the company of the City Superintendent, Señor Guiraldès (at the very moment of the arrest of the man who was believed to have thrown the bomb in the Colon Theatre), I could see that not only is the force a very powerful one, but that it has at its head men of energy and decision who are determined to repress deeds of violence, of which all or nearly all are committed by persons not of Argentine nationality.[9] While on the subject, one may note that the Argentine police have adopted and perfected the system of identification of criminals by the marks of the thumb. First the imprint of all ten fingers is taken, so as to make mistake impossible and arrive at absolute certainty; then, acting on the principle that it may be as useful to identify an honest man as a bandit, identification certificates are issued to the public, for a small fee, containing an enlargement of the thumb imprint. A crowd of people waiting at the door of the office that makes and furnishes these documents showed that the public fully appreciated their usefulness. Young men and old were submitting in silence to have their ten fingers smeared with a sort of wax not easily removed by soap and water. Each in turn departed well pleased that the stigma of "Unknown" would never be attached to his grave. It appears that it has become the fashion to register one's thumb at the police-station before starting on any journey. Señor Guiraldès told us that his own son, now in Europe, had taken this precaution before exposing his person to the risks of the elements and the unceremonious manners of Parisian _apaches_. In the days of the stage-coach Parisians used to be laughed at for making their wills and taking out passports before starting on a journey to Étampes. Now behold! By other routes we have returned to the good old days. And funny as it may appear to those of us who like to believe that civilisation in South America is more or less rudimentary, it is precisely this country which thus, in scientific fashion, guards against the barbarous ways of the capitals and even the country districts of Europe. There was recently a story of an Argentine who was drowned on our coast and whose body was subsequently washed up on shore, with the head frightfully mutilated. As, however, the telltale thumb had been preserved he was quickly identified. If this story had been told me in time I should certainly have allowed as much of my person as was necessary to be dipped in wax instead of venturing to start on my homeward journey without the simple proofs of identity which would suffice to place beyond doubt the status of any Jonah in the depths of a whale. As it is, in spite of my imprudence, I reached home with my head still on my shoulders. Pure luck! Never again will I trust myself at sea without this elementary precaution, which would so radically have changed the fortunes of Ulysses in rocky Ithaca. After this digression, which is only excused by the importance of the subject, I want to finish what I began to say about the rabid Argentinism of our friends. I had a great surprise one day when speaking respectfully of the fine qualities of the Spaniards. Some highly cultured men present interrupted me, and criticised severely the race from which they had sprung in terms one might have expected from an Anglo-Saxon, but not from a Latin. Therefore I must ask my readers not to imagine that the Argentinos are merely Spaniards transplanted to American soil. No! The real Argentino, though he would never confess it, seems to me convinced that there is a magic elixir of youth that springs from his soil and makes of him a new man, descendant of none but ancestor of endless generations to come. That there is indeed a regenerating influence in this youthful land is proved by the power it wields over newcomers of whatever origin. The Italian in particular is Argentinised before he is _argenté_. In the provinces, as in Buenos Ayres, I had a hundred thousand examples of this before my eyes. You ask a child, the son of an immigrant, whether he speaks Italian or Spanish. He answers haughtily, "At home we all talk Argentine." Another, unable to deny that he was born in Genoa, although he claimed Argentine nationality, murmured by way of excuse, "I was so little." I may add that in the primary schools where these replies were made to me the teaching was the epitome of Argentine patriotic spirit, as might be guessed from the pictures and inscriptions on the walls.[10] But Alsace-Lorraine and Poland are witness to the fact that unless the heart be wholly won authority may labour in vain. As I want to be wholly sincere here, I must admit that the French take this Argentine contagion with remarkable facility. I should grievously wrong our own excellent colony, however, if I did less than justice to its ardent patriotism. It is only when tried that love grows and grows purer. In absence the fatherland seems the dearer in proportion as it is connected with the recollection of sufferings that left us stripped of all but honour. The public work of the French colony speaks loudly for it. Its most important achievement is the French Hospital, founded long ago, but, thanks to its Governor, M. Basset, and its chief physician, Dr. G. Lauré, it is invaluable. As I was leaving the building after a visit I shall not soon forget, the Chairman of the Board of Directors showed me a bust of Pasteur standing among the trees, and asked what I thought of a suggestion to place near it a figure of Lorraine. Although the symbolism in the two statues would be entirely different, I warmly concurred in the plan. There is, after all, a delicate connection between these two manifestations of the soul of France--the desire for knowledge and the courage to hold. These men, who have presented to the city of Buenos Ayres a monument worthy of France in commemoration of the friendship of the sister republics, and who, on the occasion of the floods in Paris of last year, sent a cheque for 400,000 francs to assuage the worst of the distress, never miss an opportunity of showing their loyalty to the mother-country. Yet how many sons of France one meets at every step who have gone over to the Argentine, head and heart, beyond all possibility of return! One large manufacturer of the port of Buenos Ayres is a nephew of a member of our National Assembly of 1871. I noticed, when inspecting his very remarkable establishment, that he speaks French less fluently than Spanish, while his two brothers, who pay frequent visits to Paris, have become thorough Argentinos. Again, I might take the case of one of our most eminent compatriots who left France in his twentieth year, but who has remained French to the very marrow of his bones. His son is an official of high position in the Argentine. Doubtless his marriage with a woman of the country laid the foundation for this South American family. The atmosphere of the home is naturally altered, and his material interests, indissolubly riveted to the soil that feeds him and his family, attune the settler insensibly to new ways, and gradually transform his whole habit of mind to the new pattern. Can anybody explain why this is not the case with the French who try their fortune in North America, and why in Canada the two races live side by side in all harmony but never mix? It must be that "blood is thicker than water," as says the English proverb, and that the Latin element blends more readily with a Latin agglomeration than with an Anglo-Saxon community. Here I have seen, over and over again, that after two or three generations nothing remains of the original stock but the name. I know of but one instance where the Latin organism has been completely assimilated by a northern race, and that is the French emigration to Germany in consequence of the revocation of the Edict of Nantes. But in that case a community of religious fervour, strengthened by an odious persecution, was the active agent in the blending of the Latin mind and character with that of Germany. We all remember that the first German Governor of Alsace-Lorraine was the descendant of a French emigrant. Some of us may recall the furious address of the learned Dubois-Reymond to the youth of Prussia in 1870, urging them over the frontier of the land from which their ancestors were driven by the sabres of the dragoons of Louis XIV. To return once more to our Franco-Argentinos, I ought to say that the severe application of French military law but too often embitters them against the mother-country. In its haste to increase its population, the Argentine awards nationalisation to the children of foreigners born on Argentine soil, and nationalisation carries in its train military service. It is the same system adopted by ourselves in Algiers toward Spanish colonists. The consequence is that the son of French parents duly registered at the French Consulate, in order to preserve for him his father's nationality, finds himself later called simultaneously to serve under two flags on opposite sides of the ocean. What is he to do? In the Argentine, where military service is very short, are all his future prospects, while in France no place has been kept open for him. If France were in danger and called to him for help he would not hesitate, but, failing that, his actual surroundings make it hard for him to decide. The majority respond to the call to the Argentine flag, and by so doing fall into the class of _insoumis_ on French soil, except in cases where the father, with a forethought that cannot be approved, has omitted to register the birth at the Consulate. If I remember rightly, ten only out of forty youths called up leave Buenos Ayres annually to answer to their names at the French roll-call. One wonders whether the result be sufficient to justify steps that might easily trouble our relations with the French colony in this country. For the young _insoumis_ can never set foot on French soil without finding the _gendarmerie_ after him. Yet his business will call him inevitably to Europe. Where will he take his orders when France has shut her doors to him? England, Belgium, Switzerland, and Germany are open to him. I heard recently a story about a Frenchman of Buenos Ayres who ventured to Lille, and had only just time, at a warning from a friend, to escape over the border. I need not dwell on the matter, but it is easy to see how detrimental the present state of the law is to French families living in the Argentine, Brazil, and other American countries, as well as to France herself. We manage in this way to drive from the national fold a number of young men who would in time of danger respond heartily to a call from the motherland. Wherever I went I heard the same cry. The Consuls and the French Minister could only reply, "It is the law." But the Frenchman who follows the Flag in some foreign land demands an alteration in a law which ought not to be applied with the same rigour to youths living in Basle, Brussels, Geneva, and to those who have found a field for their activities across the sea. To me it seems only justice to establish a distinction in our legislation between these two categories of French subjects. For example, I heard of the case of an eminent politician--M. Pellegrini, the son of an inhabitant of Nice, and therefore French--who, in his youth, got into difficulties in the way described with the French recruiting service, and who later, having risen to the position of President of the Argentine Republic, received the Grand Cordon of the Legion of Honour. The red ribbon or the Council of War--which seems the more appropriate reward to citizens of this kind? Of course, we must all regret that valuable citizens should thus be taken from France at the moment when she needs every one of her children. At the same time we must consider that a Frenchman who has become Argentine is by no means lost to France, as might be the case in the United States, for instance, where the Latin is rapidly submerged by the irresistible flood of Anglo-Saxonism. In the Argentine, on the contrary, the Northern races prove merely a useful element of methodical intelligence and tenacity, which is in time engulfed by the great Latin wave. There are important German colonies in Brazil, and even in the Argentine. Both English and North Americans have prosperous manufactories there. Yet in a race that has preserved integrally its Latinity, all this is of but secondary interest, and the tendency remains to travel steadily in the track of peoples of Latin stock, among whom it may without presumption be said that the French exert the most powerful influence. For this reason any Frenchman of average intellectual and moral value who becomes incorporated in the Argentine nation must almost infallibly at the same time--for I doubt if any Frenchman is ever really un-Frenched--materially aid in permanently strengthening French prestige. What are we to think of men like M. Paul Groussac, who holds an eminent place in Buenos Ayres, but who would equally in his own land have reached the very front rank? M. Groussac, having gone through our naval training school, set out to see the world. One day, his pockets empty, he arrived at Buenos Ayres, where courageously he hired himself as _gaucho_--that is, keeper of the immense flocks of the Pampas, whose members run into their thousands--and he undertook to drive a train of mules to Peru. He accomplished the journey successfully, covering the same route four times in all, each journey taking four months. Later we find him acting as schoolmaster. In Tucuman he carried on the work of the French outlaw, Jacques, who, having escaped to the Argentine after the _coup d'état_ of December 2d, devoted himself entirely to public education on lines taken up later and developed by President Sarmiento. We had the pleasure of seeing in the place of honour at the Training College of Tucuman the portraits of the two French founders, Jacques and Paul Groussac. From time to time the latter brother has published various literary works, notably some short stories in which Argentine life and character are brilliantly set forth, and the name of their author has achieved a wide celebrity. Then M. Hilleret, the great French sugar manufacturer of Santa Ana, placed a large capital at the disposal of Paul Groussac with which to start a daily paper destined to reveal, in the person of its editor-in-chief, a writer of remarkable force. To-day you may hear that Paul Groussac is the leading Spanish writer of our times, which by no means prevents him from contributing some brilliant articles to our own _Journal des Débats_, amply proving his mastery of his mother-tongue, not to mention a curious study by him of that literary enigma the _Don Quichotte_ of Avellaneda. In 1810 a Public Library was founded by decree of the first Revolutionary Junto, on the initiative of Secretary Moreno. It was opened March 16, 1812, its nucleus being drawn from the convent libraries. In 1880, after the proclamation of Buenos Ayres as capital of the Federation, the Public Library became the National Library, and in 1885 Paul Groussac was appointed Governor. In an interview with President Roca, who cannot be accused of any partiality for him, Groussac obtained a grant of the building intended, alas! for public lotteries, in which the library might be installed. He set to work immediately. The National Library of the Argentine, under the control of M. Groussac, is now without a rival in South America, and can bear comparison with many similar institutions on the Old Continent.[11] One of the pet hobbies of M. Groussac is now to open a French _lycée_ in Buenos Ayres, with the support of both Governments. His eldest son, an Argentino, has just been appointed to the post of Under-Secretary of State in the Office of Public Instruction by M. Saënz Peña. Strangely enough all the fine qualities of this illustrious compatriot of ours have been lost sight of for the reason that through some defect--I had almost said vice--in his character he has won the reputation of being the surliest of bears. Having myself also, to some extent, a reputation for being less than amiable I wondered whether the two of us might not come to blows if we met. Considering in some sort my bald head a protection, I ventured into the bear's den, and found only the most affable and genial of men, whose claws were of velvet and his tusks of sugar. Thus we made friends at once, and I found that the much-dreaded beast had nothing terrible about him, unless it was a strong accent of the Gers. Since that day I have done my best to dispel so injurious a prejudice against the man. I can only explain its prevalence by the words of Tacitus, who remarked of his father-in-law, Agricola, "He chose rather to offend than to hate." It is a rare enough trait among men this, which leads them, like Alceste, to declare their real opinion rather than stoop to the indignity of falsehood. It may very easily happen that in this way such men may offend the talker who asks only cheap flattery, though actuated themselves by the kindliest feelings towards their fellow-men. If we consider for a moment the sentiment aroused in us by the general practice of using words to conceal our thoughts, we must recognise that we are the first to suffer by this universal weakness--not to say cowardice--in that we only expect from others what we ourselves give, namely, hypocritical phrases, leading to crooked actions, and causing that silent but lasting dislike which forms the principal obsession in the life of many among us. If it is a less offence to inspire than to harbour dislike, let us absolve the men who fail to win universal regard, but who are nevertheless wholly incapable of harming a creature. Unless I am misinformed, we shall soon have the pleasure of seeing Paul Groussac in Paris. A Chair of History of the Argentine Republic has been founded at the Sorbonne, and there is talk of offering it to him. Certainly no one could better perform its duties. Yet it would surprise me if he could in this way break off his multitudinous engagements in the Argentine. They say he will in person open the course of lectures. I can promise an intellectual treat to his hearers. I did not hear of any Germans or Englishmen who had, to the same extent as the Italians and the French, undergone transformation into Argentinos. The German, whose fundamental roughness--to call it by no stronger name--is frequently masked by good humour, works his way into all classes of society, but without losing any of his original traits. M. Mihanowitch, who is at the head of a colossal business of river and sea transportation, must, notwithstanding his Austrian origin, be considered as an Argentino, though he is surely of Slav blood. The English invariably retain their individuality. I am told that in Patagonia, where they are carrying on sheep breeding on a scale that leaves Australia in the rear, they have built up cosy dwellings, where every night they change into their smoking-jackets for the family repast, and never miss taking a holiday of two or three months in their native land. They never become Argentinos. This, however, does not prevent their being at the head of the business world of La Plata, where they exert a powerful influence on the industrial and commercial life of the people. It would have greatly interested me to study the foreign colonies more closely, but time was lacking. Of the Spanish, the only man I was able to see anything of was M. Coelho, the distinguished Governor of the Spanish Bank of La Plata, whose untiring energy reaches out daily in new directions; he gave me many proofs of kindness, for which I am sincerely grateful. It is certain that the recent visit of Field-Marshal von der Goltz to the Argentine must prove useful to German influence. As we know, it is the Germans who are responsible for the present organisation of the Argentine Army. Their Government, wiser than some others, did not hesitate to send to La Plata some of their most skilled officers, who were naturally received by Argentine society with the deference that was their due. The eminent legal scholar, Professor Enrico Ferri, lately re-elected Deputy of the group that we should call "Independent Socialists," is and has long been the official mouthpiece of the Italian colony. Gifted with a perfect urbanity, an impartial mind, lofty ideals, and generous eloquence, he quickly attracted the notice of the public, and soon vanquished the suspicions of the Extreme Right, who feared his Socialist views, and the opposition of the Extreme Left, who bore him malice for having broken away from them. M. Saënz Peña's Cabinet has been well advised in calling on M. Enrico Ferri to take over the management of the penitentiary system. I have mentioned the principal features of the French colony, and shall hope to be forgiven if lack of space has prevented me from doing full justice to its members. I have spoken of M. Py, the distinguished Governor of the Banque Française de la Plata, who is admirably assisted in his work by the manager, M. Puisoye. It would be unpardonable to omit the name of Mme. Moreno (of the Comédie Française), who has so thoroughly mastered the Spanish tongue that she has opened and carried to success a _conservatoire_, in which she trains pupils for the stage. It would be the less excusable to forget this lady in that she is frequently to be met at receptions, where her elocution, both in prose and in poetry, delights her Parisian-Argentine public. Whilst waiting for the Académies to confer on women the right to be learned, let us venture to proclaim their cleverness even when it is but an adjunct to feminine charm. FOOTNOTES: [6] The death penalty, abolished in Uruguay, does still exist in the Argentine Republic, but executions are rare. The last dates several years back. The condemned man is shot by the troops. [7] The Colon Theatre seats no less than 3570 persons. The third tier is reserved for ladies only; the acoustics are excellent; the most renowned artists appear on its stage. There is also another opera-house. [8] Impossible to exaggerate the horror of the scene. A high official personage told me that he had never beheld such pools of blood. [9] The Fire Brigade, admirably organised as I had an opportunity of observing, is armed like the Paris Corps, and can thus be employed to reinforce the city police if necessary. [10] It appears that on the day of the National Fête the pupils of the primary schools have to take an oath of fidelity to the Flag, which is called the _juro de la Bandera_, and is accompanied by speeches and patriotic songs that cannot help making an impression on the children. [11] In 1893 the Library numbered 69,000 volumes; in 1903, 130,000; and in 1910, 190,000. CHAPTER V ARGENTINE EDUCATION, HOSPITALS, AND ASYLUMS If the different foreign elements contributed by the Latin peoples fuse so readily into an Argentine race, it is none the less true that Spanish metal bulks the heaviest in the ore. Language, literature, history, give a bias from which none can escape. The ancient branch transplanted to this youthful soil sends up its shoots towards another heaven, but the original sap circulates unendingly in the living tree. The Argentine is not, and firmly refuses to be, a Spanish colony. It has successfully freed itself from the historic shackles--those of theocracy, first of all--which have so disastrously tied and bound the noble and lofty impulses of a people eminently fitted to perform exalted tasks. And hence, notwithstanding a large alluvion from Italy, symbolised by the monument to Garibaldi, notwithstanding the growing influence of French culture, the atavism of blood preserves an indelible imprint which will characterise the Argentine nation down to its most distant posterity. The visit of the Infanta Isabella on the occasion of the Centenary Fêtes in honour of the independence was a happy thought on the part of the Spanish Government. The Princess, escorted by M. Perez Caballero, the present Spanish Ambassador in Paris, was everywhere received with rapturous enthusiasm. It was easy to see that the struggles of the past, now relegated to the annals of the dead, had left no bitterness in the people's heart. There was universal pleasure at the graceful action of the now reconciled parent in thus stretching a hand to the son who, with impetuous ardour, had thrown off the yoke of dependence, and the public found a subtle pleasure in showing that the chivalrous courtesy which is part of the tradition of the race had lost none of its flower in this American land. After the severe measures taken to repress anarchical violence, a rumour spread that the life of the President of the Republic was in danger. Perhaps there was nothing in it. Unfortunately, it was one of those things that can only be verified by experience. At all events, the Infanta Isabella chose to ignore the danger. With the utmost simplicity, but also with the utmost courage, she showed herself everywhere by the side of the Chief of the State, and to the lasting credit of the Argentine reputation, everywhere she was greeted with hearty applause. Here, then, is a base, immutably Spanish through all the changes that one can foresee, together with a fusion and perfect assimilation of the Latin elements in the immense influx of European civilisation: such is the first condition of Argentine evolution to be seen and studied in the city of Buenos Ayres. To make the picture complete, we must notice an important contribution of Indian blood that is very marked everywhere. I shall return to this later. As for the national character, since I am only jotting down a traveller's impressions, and not attempting to present to my readers a didactic study, it is, I think, better to allow its features to spring naturally from the subject under consideration as we go along, rather than first to make statements that I must next attempt to prove. I have already mentioned the extreme kindness of Señor Guiraldès, the City Lieutenant, who is for the Argentine capital what M. de Selves is for Paris. Like our own Prefect, he is appointed by the President of the Republic, and I may say that although there are inevitably from time to time differences with the Municipal Council, the system has given good results as applied to a place in which there are so many conflicting elements. Señor and Señora Guiraldès, like all the upper class of Argentine society, possess the most perfect European culture, and they do the honours of their city with a charming grace that delights the foreign visitor. Now that I am at a distance from them, I consider that I may with propriety pay sincere homage to their courtesy. Whenever I found I had a little time to spare I used to telephone to Señor Guiraldès, who had once for all placed himself at my disposal. He invariably replied by hastening to my door, and together we consulted as to tours of inspection; it was agreed that I should choose the institutions to be visited so that there might be no suspicion of collusion. In this way I was enabled to visit all the State or municipal establishments that interested me. When by chance we found some evidence of official oversight, Señor Guiraldès's satisfaction was boundless. "At least," he cried, "you will not tell me that your call had been announced beforehand." Then, to check any inordinate vanity, I told him the tale of an adventure that happened once to a certain Minister of the Interior who visited the prison of Saint Lazare. A ring at the bell. "I want to see the Governor." "He has gone up to town." "Then I will see the chief clerk." "He is away on leave." "The chief warder?" "He is laid up." "Can I speak to the Sister Superior?" "She has just gone out." "Well, are any of the prisoners at home?" The gaoler, smiling amiably: "I believe so." Argentine officials, like their French brethren, are both fallible and zealous, and while it was impossible that in so many visits there should be no ground for criticism, yet I am anxious to declare publicly how admirably kept were the schools, of whatever degree, the hospitals, asylums, refuges, and prisons; they were not only adapted to all the requirements of therapeutics, hygiene, and the canons of modern European science, but they showed a genuine effort to do better than the best. I should have been glad to have there some of those who make a practice of disdaining these countries that started very long after us, but that can already give us some salutary lessons through institutions such as those I have named, which are here brought to a pitch of perfection that is in many cases unknown with us. My readers will not expect me to take them with me round all the establishments that I visited with Señor Guiraldès. They would fill a book, and I should need to dip into the innumerable volumes of reports and notices which Argentine benevolence added to my personal luggage. This, however, does not come within my subject. None will be surprised that the schools attracted my attention first. The School Question is too vast to be handled here in detail. But I saw professional schools (_Écoles industrielles de la Nation_), and primary schools that would be models in any land. All the arrangements irreproachable, and the children scrupulously clean. Demonstration lessons in abundance. Lessons on the land and its mineral, vegetable, and animal productions, specimens of each being passed from hand to hand, accompanied by explanations summarised in synoptic tables. A lesson on the anatomy and physiology of the lungs was illustrated by the breathing organs of an ox and a sheep (higher primary class for young girls), which appeared to awaken great interest among the scholars. Specimens in pasteboard coloured like life, showing the different parts of the organism, allow these rudimentary demonstrations to be carried fairly far. The primary schools, under the management of the National Educational Council, are free, and include the school material obligatory in theory for children of from six to twelve years of age. But the population of Buenos Ayres grows more rapidly than its schools. Hence the inconvenient expedient has been adopted of dividing the pupils into two categories, one attending school of a morning and the other of an afternoon, with the result that one half the children are always wandering about the streets while the others are drinking at the fountain of knowledge. This is a system that has nothing to recommend it. It is difficult to understand why the Argentine capital postpones making a pecuniary sacrifice which is certainly not beyond its means, and which is imperatively necessary. The criticism is the more justifiable in that untold sums have been spent on certain buildings which are veritable palaces, as, for example, the President Roca School. About a hundred private, lay, or denominational schools, kept for the most part by foreigners, take in the children who are crowded out of the public schools. At Buenos Ayres, as in other parts of the country, the number of pupils in this category is far too large. There are provinces where the deficit of schools is such as to constitute a real scandal in a civilised nation.[12] I shall never forget the heart-broken tones of a child of ten whom I met in the Pampas of the Buenos Ayres province and whom I questioned as to his occupations. "I want to go to school. Papa does not want me to." The father was a Mexican. The eyes of the child thus condemned by paternal stupidity to mental darkness were full of intelligence. How much trouble we take to make the best of our land! How apathetic we are when it is a question of developing the greatest force in the world, that which sets in motion all the rest--human intelligence! Is it not inconceivable that in France, after nearly half a century of labour, we still find every year a large number of wholly illiterate men among the conscripts called up to serve with the Flag? This state of affairs, which is sad enough at home, would be reckoned a great success in the _Campo_, where distances are such that the children have to go to the primary schools on horseback, as I have elsewhere mentioned. But when a school is within reach, the folly of parents must not be permitted to debar their children from its advantages. The municipal and State schools are entirely undenominational. This rule obtains throughout the Argentine, where it is accepted without a murmur. The numerous religious Orders have their own private schools in virtue of the recognised principle of liberty of teaching. It might surprise a European to see that the Catholic clergy of the Argentine do not attempt to fight the undenominational character of the public schools which elsewhere has aroused such violent hostility. To my mind this cannot be explained by a want of religious fervour amongst priests and monks in the Argentine. But circumstances which it would take too long to explain have taught the Argentine clergy to make an _outward_ practice of toleration. If questioned on the subject, the Argentino will reply: "Our clergy hold themselves aloof from politics." And this seems to be the case. The religious world appears to be no party to political differences. The social influence of the Roman hierarchy is none the less powerful on what remains of the old colonial aristocracy and (with few exceptions) on the women of the class known as superior. Practically, the official relations of Church and State in the Argentine approach very close to separation. I shall say nothing of the secondary schools and colleges, of which I saw but little. They are placed under the immediate control of the Minister of Public Instruction. There are no resident students. This, in the opinion of all, is the weakest spot in their educational scheme. Amédée Jacques, one of the exiles of our December _coup d'état_, introduced our classical curriculum into the Argentine, but it met with no success. Since that time, here, as at home, there has been strife between the partisans of the classic and those of modern, or even technical, education. Great battles have been fought, and the only result is that the cause of education has suffered from both parties. The opening of a French _lycée_, which I have reason to believe will shortly take place, may help to restore the classics to the position which in my opinion they ought to hold in every civilised country. In certain branches higher education has made great strides. Law and Medicine in particular have a staff of eminent men in their colleges. Any man who has made his mark in Europe is sure of a choice audience there, drawn from both professors and students. I had the pleasure of being present at the first of Enrico Ferri's lectures at the Law schools. His subject was Social Justice. The powerful and glowing eloquence of the orator was never displayed before a public better prepared to profit by his lofty teaching on humanitarian equity. It is not in vain that so many young Argentines have made their way to the universities of France, Italy, and Germany. As soon as I set foot in the hospitals here I had an impression that I was in the full stream of European science, and that the Argentinos were determined to be second to none in the perfection of their organisation. I noticed an excellent bacteriological institute managed by a compatriot of ours, M. Lignères, and some agricultural schools that are turning out a competent body of men for the development of the Pampas. The hospitals impressed us very favourably. The New Hospital for Contagious Diseases, situated some kilometres from the centre of the town, comprises a series of model buildings, all strictly isolated, of which each is devoted to a special disease. At the Rivadavia Hospital, for women only, the _Cobo_ wards (for pulmonary tuberculosis and surgical operations) are particularly admirable. Everywhere the latest improvements as regards the appliances for the patients, the sterilising halls, and operating theatres, and also as regards surgical appliances. Nothing has been overlooked that can increase the efficaciousness of the hospital schools: amphitheatres for classes, diagrams, specimens, etc. The laboratories are so luxurious that they would make our own hospital students envious. It was here that Dr. Pozzi, our eminent compatriot, performed in May, 1910, a series of operations, every one of which proved successful; while his German fellow-practitioner, whose scientific acquirements are unquestionable, met with very different results. The same may be said of Dr. Doléris, who held a course of demonstration lessons in Buenos Ayres, and whose operations were also crowned with entire success. The Rivadavia Hospital has a fine _annexe_ of supplementary work: consultations for outpatients, electro- and radio-therapy, dispensary, etc. I must also mention the sumptuous recreation-rooms for the use of convalescents, and the gardens, exquisitely kept. In the maternity wards (at Alvear as at Rivadavia) we find the same care for ultra-modern comfort, combined with the strictest cleanliness. I must not forget a very curious obstetrical museum with diagrams, anatomical specimens, and a series of admirable preparations exemplifying the different stages of gestation. A small cradle should be noticed (a German invention, I believe), ingeniously attached to the mother's bed and taken down with a single movement of the hand. Very happy instance of simplification. Everywhere--in the design of the buildings, in the fittings, laboratories, sterilising- and operating-rooms--the influence and products of Germany were patent. On the other hand, the French culture of doctors and surgeons, masters and pupils, was easily discernible, and all were greatly indebted to the classics of our Paris and Lyons Faculties. I could not see the evidences of this in the hospital libraries without remembering regretfully the churlish reception that is given in some of our hospital schools to modest foreign _savants_. At the same time, I will not conceal the fact that Protection of the most extreme sort flourishes among the Argentine physicians, who are very anxious to defend themselves against European competition. I was told that there are no less than thirty-two examinations imposed on a doctor from the Paris Faculty before he is permitted to write out the simplest prescription for a _gaucho_ of the Pampas. We may be allowed to find these measures highly exaggerated. There is a splendid Asylum for Aged Men kept by French Sisters of Charity in a condition of the daintiest cleanliness, and managed by ladies of the city. The Argentinos claim that their women are very zealous in all charitable works. Doubt was thrown recently in the Chamber on this statement. I am not competent to judge. One original institution--the Widows' Asylum--is a sort of settlement composed of small apartments of one or two rooms, on a single floor. In the courtyard opposite the gate is a small shed, in which is placed a stove for open-air cooking, possible in this fortunate climate all the year round. The rents are very low for widows having more than four children. The lunatic colony of Lujan, to which its founder and manager, Dr. Cabred, has given the significant name of The Open Door, deserves a more detailed description. It consists of an estate of six hundred hectares on the Pacific Line seventy kilometres from Buenos Ayres, and here twelve hundred patients are accommodated in twenty villas--graceful _chalets_, surrounded by gardens and containing each sixty patients. These villas are fitted up with everything necessary for clinotherapy and balneotherapy, with fine recreation-rooms. The colony is enclosed by a line of wire; not a wall, not a wooden fence--everywhere unrestricted freedom and a wide, open horizon. We have erected a monument in Paris to the memory of Pinel, in which he is represented as breaking the chains which mediæval ignorance heaped on the mad inmates of Bicêtre as late as 1793. But if you visit our asylum of Sainte-Anne, you are tempted to ask in what this "modern" establishment differs from an ordinary prison. I hasten to add that in the other asylums of the Department of the Seine we are beginning to develop the open-air treatment. Long ago the system of placing certain patients out in the country amongst peasant families was planned and adopted. The Open Door treats all mental patients, of whatever degree of madness, on the plan known out here as "work performed in liberty." In the confusion of cerebral phenomena the widest freedom is given to the reflex action of unconscious or quasi-unconscious life. If a patient has learnt a trade, he finds at once in The Open Door an outlet for his energies, for it is with the labour of the lunatics that the carpentering, masonry, scaffolding, etc., of these villas was executed. Those who have no trade are given a technical education, and often acquire great skill. The difficulty is to persuade the newcomer to begin to work. If he refuses, he is left alone. "He is left to feel dull." Then he is invited to take a walk, and once on the spot where work is proceeding, he is offered a tool that he may do as the others are doing. "I have met with only one refusal," said Dr. Cabred. "One patient tried calmly to prove to me that life was not worth the labour necessary to preserve it. I must confess that he nearly convinced me, and I often try to find the flaw in his reasoning, though never, as yet, with success. It is a little hard when the apostle of lunatic labour is brought to ask himself if the lunatic who refuses to work is not acting on a better reasoned conviction than his more submissive companions. At any rate, he is the only man in the colony who does nothing. He spends his time reading the paper or dreaming, without saying a word. When I go to see him he mocks at me, declaring that it is I who am the fool, and, indeed, to support his laziness is not, perhaps, the action of a sane man." There is not a strait-waistcoat or a single appliance for restraint in the whole colony. Excitement or attacks of violence all yield to the bath, which is sometimes prolonged to twenty-four or thirty hours if necessary. Separate _chalets_ for the manager and his staff, for the water reservoir, the machinery, laundry, dairy, kitchens, workshops, theatre, chapel. Outside, agricultural labour in every form, from ploughing to cattle rearing. Only the superintendents who direct the work are sane, or supposed to be. In spite of this assurance it is not without alarm that one watches madmen handling red-hot irons or tools as dangerous for others as themselves. As may be supposed, they are not put to this kind of work until they have been subjected to long trials. Our visit to The Open Door lasted a whole day, and still we had not seen everything. From first to last we were followed by a mad photographer, who took his pictures at his own convenience and reprimanded us severely for rising from lunch without first posing for him. Four days later a series of photographs, representing the various incidents of our day at The Open Door, was sent to me, bound in an album--by a madman, of course, and sent by another madman to a person mad enough to believe himself endowed with reason. Need I add that we had been received to the strains of the _Marseillaise_ and the National Argentine Hymn, performed by a mad band, which, all through lunch, played the music of its repertoire! Ever since, I have wondered why a certificate of madness is not demanded from every candidate for admission to the Opera orchestra. As for journalism, do you suppose that no room was found for it in The Open Door? The excellent Dr. Cabred is not a man to make such omissions. We were duly presented with a copy of the _Ecos de las Mercedes_, a monthly paper, written and published by the madmen of The Open Door, with the intention, perhaps, of making us believe that other journals are the work of individuals in full possession of their common-sense--prose and poetry; articles in Spanish, Italian, and French; occasionally a slight carelessness in grammar and in sequence of thought, but, on the whole, not wandering farther from their subject than others. Finally, to wind up the day's proceedings, we were treated to a horserace ridden by lunatics. Sane beasts mounted by mad horsemen, galloping wildly, by mutual consent, in a useless effort to reach a perfectly vain end. Is not this the common spectacle offered by humanity? Meantime, one honest madman of mystic tendencies, decorated with about a hundred medals, pursued us with religious works, from which he read us extracts, accompanied by his blessing. I wondered whether this form of exercise was included in Dr. Cabred's programme, since he claims to make his lunatics perform all the acts of a sane community. A similar scruple occurred to me at noon, when I was invited to take a seat at a well-spread table. "Is your cooking done by madmen?" I inquired, not without anxiety. "We have made an exception in your favour," was the contrite reply. And now another question arose to my lips. "Since you have clearly proved that the mad are capable of performing any kind of task, will you tell me why you give yourself the lie by placing at the head of The Open Door a man who appears to me in possession of all his faculties?" "Yes; that is a weakness," replied the Doctor, laughing. "But, after all, what proof have you that I am not literally fulfilling all my own conditions? Did I not tell you that one of my patients, who may quite possibly be the most enlightened of us all, pronounced me a raving lunatic when I invited him to work? If he is right, then all is as it should be at The Open Door." I did not wish to vex the kindly doctor, who is the architect of so admirable a monument, but there was still a doubt in my mind: Was it possible to give the illusion of freedom to these madmen by merely suppressing the walls? They offer no resistance when called to co-operate in all kinds of open-air labour, and find, if not a cure, at least relief from their malady in this simple treatment; but did they really believe themselves free? I did not ask the question, for the answer was given by an old French gardener, one of the inmates of The Open Door, who, over-excited by our presence there, suddenly began to rave. "For twenty-five years," he shrieked, "you have kept me prisoner here!" Here, then, was a man whose life was spent out of doors at the work with which he had been familiar all his life, and, although no sign of restraint was visible, he was conscious of imprisonment. It is true that modern determinism has reduced what we call our "liberty" to the rigorous fatality of an organism which leaves to us merely the illusion of free will,[13] while imposing on us the impulse of some superior energy that we are forced to obey. Oh, Madness! Oh, Wisdom! Oh, vacillating sisters! is it indeed true that you wander hand in hand through the world? To whatever philosophic solution our own madness or reason may lead us, let us hasten to conclude the subject by stating that The Open Door is a model establishment, which, thanks to Dr. Cabred, enables the Argentine to give the lead to older peoples. I will only add that it is the rarest thing for a patient to escape (if I may use so unsuitable a word), since the natural conditions of the surrounding Pampas would render life therein impossible; and the lunatics on the way to recovery who are given leave of absence to stay a few days with their friends before being finally set at liberty invariably return punctually to the colony. Who can tell if some lunatic, restored to reason, might not secretly refuse to believe himself cured, and elect to pass the rest of his days happily at work under the glorious sky amongst these peaceful creatures, where the troubles and worries of the world, with the eternal competition and conflict which are the scourge of our "sane" existence, are unfelt and unknown? Such a case might lead Dr. Cabred to put up a similar establishment for the wise. From the lunatic asylum to the prison is not such a leap as some of us may think. The asylum lifts out of the relative orderliness that we have managed to establish in the conditions of civilised life all those who, by lack of mental balance, might introduce unbearable disorder. And might not this elemental definition be equally applied to the one or the other class of unfortunates? I beg my reader not to be alarmed at the fearful gravity of the problem. If it be true that no philosopher has ever been able to find a solid foundation for the right that man has assumed to "punish" his fellows for transgressing his laws, at least all will readily admit that, notwithstanding some obvious imperfections, society has attained to manifest superiority over the state of barbarism in which brute force alone rules, and that it is therefore inadmissible that those who would transgress the general laws on which society has been based should be allowed to destroy the fabric so laboriously built up. In moving out of its path those who would live within its pale in defiance of its laws, society but exercises its natural right.[14] The real question open to dispute is rather the treatment to be meted out to these rebels. In the primitive code of the _talion_ nothing was more simple--an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth--thou hast killed; I kill thee. Thou hast inflicted injuries; I in my turn shall injure thee, and I expect to deter thee from future crimes by fear of the pain in store for thee. Such "justice" has the double advantage of being speedy and readily comprehended of a rudimentary intelligence as long as the temptation has been resisted. But when evil instincts, that none asks of Nature, have caused the fall of delinquents, the morbid moral sense, more or less distorted, which urged them on to violent deeds, makes them conscious solely of the violence of which they are now the object, and drives them to take sinister revenge. Thus they are prevented from exercising their calmer judgment, from which, by the mere force of reaction, there might spring a desire and hope for a new life within the pale of the established order of things. And seeing it had been left for 1793--the epoch of a universal outburst of fraternity, manifested first by the permanent institution of the guillotine--to give us in Pinel a man of enough simple common-sense to break the chains that bound the mad, is it unreasonable to think that without freeing criminals (since not even at The Open Door are the lunatics let loose upon the public) one might yet seek some system of improvement and reformation to be applied in the establishments in which we keep our prisoners? There will always be some incurables--that is certain; but because incurables exist in every hospital and asylum, ought we to argue therefrom that it is useless to fight against an evil that is beyond human powers? The reader may suppose that I should not have ventured to set down these considerations of social philosophy without a good reason. The principles I have thus summarised, at the risk of wearying those who look only for amusement, are now held by every criminalist worthy the name. But since this new conception makes its way very slowly with even the best-intentioned of Governments, which are the more strongly imbued with the prejudices of the masses in proportion as they are the more impregnated with the democracy, and since the transformation of our existing prisons would be very costly, we have as yet not got farther than the inclusion of the words "reform" and "amendment" on programmes that are very far from being put in execution. Shall I give an example? It is evident that the time-sentence must inevitably restore a prisoner sooner or later to society. Is not, therefore, the public interest bound up in his returning with a good chance of leading a regular life, and not falling back into the disorder that was the cause of his temporary removal? And is not the very first condition of this fresh start the possession of a trade with sufficient skill therein to ensure some chance of success? If, then, we can give technical instruction in our prisons, and at the same time improve the intellectual and moral standard of the prisoner; and if, on his discharge, we can place the man whom society has thus--temporarily only--removed from its midst, in a position immediately to earn an honest living, instead of throwing him on his own resources, to be again confronted with the same temptations--would not society in this way infinitely multiply the sum total of the probabilities that its money and trouble would have the desired effect? I think, in theory, this argument will be readily admitted. Unfortunately, the difficulty is that it is much more economical to draw an immediate profit from prison labour than to reverse the problem and spend more in order to place an instrument of reform in the hands of the delinquent, with always, of course, a risk of failure. In the United States great progress has been made in this direction, and if I appear to have gone a long way round to introduce my readers to the Central (men's) Prison of Buenos Ayres, my excuse is that to my mind the Argentine Republic has far surpassed all that has been attempted hitherto in this department of work. And to say truth, I feared that in bluntly and without comment giving a description of what I have been permitted to see, I might jar the spirit of routine that has taken hold of certain communities, notwithstanding their revolutionary changes of appellation. I shall say nothing of the material side of the place, which very much resembles our own prisons. The prisoners are locked into their cells at night, but by day they are told off into the different workshops which are intended to perfect them in their own trades or give them a new one. The wages question is placed on much the same basis as with us, except that, the food being more abundant, the men are able to put aside the greater part of what they earn. (The diet consists principally of _perchero_--boiled beef--the staple article of food amongst the masses.) Conversation is allowed, but only in a low voice, and as long as work is not hindered thereby. Rations are distributed in the cells by the prisoners themselves, who take their meals with the door open, and frequently add a cigarette to the menu. There are books in every cell, with the essentials of school stationery. There are fourteen classes and fourteen masters. All the inmates attend the adult classes, which include such subjects--in addition to the theory of their own special technical work--as history, hygiene, morality, and in each an examination is held at the end of the year. Both Governor and masters testify to the general application of the pupils. The land surveying class grows with special rapidity, in view of the constant demand for surveyors in the Pampas. A vast lecture-hall, which makes a theatre when required, is decorated with drawings, casts, and charts by the hand of the pupils. Lectures are given both by masters and prisoners when the latter are sufficiently advanced, or when their former studies have qualified them for the task. On one occasion M. Ferrero, who has, I believe, published an account of his visit to the Central Prison of Buenos Ayres, was present when a prisoner gave a lecture on prehistoric America. "And the old offenders?" I asked as I went out. "There are some," replied the Governor, "but not many. Our system of re-education is powerfully backed up by the permanent offer of work from all parts of the Pampas. Moreover, the greater number of our crimes are what are called 'crimes of passion.' The Italian and Spaniard are equally prompt with the knife. A large number of these men have killed their man in a fit of furious excitement, but they will be thought none the less of for their 'irritability' when they return home. Our point of view is this: Every time a man commits an offence or a crime, it becomes the duty of the community to begin, immediately, the work of re-education. Probably in no country shall we ever do all we might for the individual offender. But when one member of the social corporation falls he must be made over again. This is what we are trying to do, and I admit it is the greatest joy to us to see the success of our efforts. I have seen most of the prisons of Europe. Did you notice amongst our inmates that expression of the tracked beast which you find on all your prisoners? No. Our inmates have one idea only--to begin life again and to prepare, this time, for success. This is the secret of that tranquil, confiding air of good children at their task which you must have observed on so many faces; and this, perhaps, takes the place of repentance, which is not given to all." "And you are not afraid your comfortable building will prove an attraction to people who are at a loss to know what to do with themselves?" "That has not happened so far. Such a fear--though I cannot believe you are speaking seriously--shows you do not take into account the superior attraction for every human creature of liberty." With that I left, having learnt a very interesting lesson from the Argentinos, whom so many Europeans are generously ready to teach. FOOTNOTES: [12] The census of 1909 showed that public instruction had since 1895, the date of the last census, made great progress. In these ten years the Argentine has opened 2000 new schools. In 1895, 30 per cent. of the population were in the schools; in 1909, 59 per cent. The Lainez Act enjoined on the National Educational Council the duty of opening elementary schools, giving the minimum of instruction, wherever they were needed. In the census of 1909 every child from five to fourteen years was made the subject of a separate card of psychophysical details on the initiative of Dr. Horacio G. Pinero. This card contained twenty-one questions: age, nationality, parentage, height, weight, thoracic measurements, size of the head, weight of the body, anomalies, deformities, stigmata, anterior diseases, sight, hearing, objective perception, attention, memory, language and pronunciation, affectionateness, excitability, temper. [13] "If the idea of liberty be in itself a force, as Fouillée maintains, that force would be scarcely less if some wise man should one day demonstrate that it rested on illusion alone. This illusion is too tenacious to be dispelled by reasoning. The most convinced of determinists will still continue to use the words 'I will' and even 'I ought' in his daily speech, and moreover will continue to think them with what is the most powerful part of his mind--the unconscious and non-reasoning part. It is just as impossible not to act like a free man when one acts as it is not to reason like the determinist when one is working at science" ("La Morale et la Science," by Henri Poincaré, _La Revue_, June 1, 1910). [14] "If some day morality were forced to accept determinism, would it not perish in the effort to adapt itself thereto? So profound a metaphysical revolution would doubtless have less influence on our manners than might be thought. Penal repression is not of course in question; what we now call crime and punishment would be known as disease and prevention, but society would preserve intact its right which is not to punish but simply to defend itself" (Henri Poincaré, _loc. cit._). CHAPTER VI ARGENTINE TYPES, MANNERS, AND MORALS I had very good ground for stating that a salient characteristic of the Argentinos was a desire, not only to learn from Europe but to carry to the farthest possible pitch of perfection every institution begun, whether public or private, and to surpass their model. The obvious danger in all rapidly-developed colonial settlements is the acceptance of the "half-done," an almost obligatory condition in the early stages of development, and one whose facility of attainment is apt to militate against the persistency of effort after that precision of completion which alone can give good results. This defect, in fact, constitutes the principal reproach brought by the systematic Northerners against the impulsive Latin races, whose temperamental traits lead them to content themselves with a brilliant start, leaving thereafter to imagination the task of filling in the blanks left in the reality by this unsatisfactory method of operation. I confess that in setting out for South America I was prepared to find that I should need the greatest indulgence if I would escape the danger of offending by discourteous but candid criticism. This was due to the fact that I was insensibly influenced partly by a few sociologists who discuss these matters carelessly, and partly by the folly that leads us to overlook the claims of consanguinity and urges us ever along those paths that England and Germany have opened. But not at all. If the prodigious expansion of the great North American republic may have inclined me to fear for the South American republics anything approaching to comparison, it is my belief that any impartial observer will rejoice to recognise the robust and generous development of some of the most promising forces of the future, in young communities that are clearly destined to attain to the highest grades of human superiority. In 1865 Buckle, who was a man of no ordinary mental calibre, did not fear to write in his _History of Civilisation_ that the compelling action of land and climate in Brazil was such that a highly civilised community must shortly find a home there. The event has amply justified the bold prophecy. In the South American republics, as in the United States and elsewhere, there are different degrees of fulfilment, of course. At the outset, while waiting for land to acquire value, all peoples have had to be satisfied with an approximate achievement. But in the Argentine, Uruguay, and Brazil, to speak only of countries I have visited, it is plain that nothing will be left half done, and the capacity to carry all work methodically forward to its end, in no matter what field of labour, promises well for the future of a race. You do not require to stay long at Buenos Ayres to find that this quality exists in a very high degree in the Argentino. I have mentioned the European aspect of Buenos Ayres--the least colonial-looking, probably, of any place in South America. But I noticed at the same time that the Argentino refuses to be simply a Spaniard transplanted, although _society_, in Buenos Ayres, traces its descent, with more or less authenticity, from the _conquistadores_, and did originally issue from the Iberian Peninsula. If we go farther and inquire what other influence, beside that of soil and climate, has been exercised over the European stock in the basin of the Rio de la Plata, we are bound to be struck with the thought that the admixture of Indian blood must count for something. The negro element, never numerically strong, appears to have been completely absorbed. There is very little trace of African blood. On the other hand, without leaving Buenos Ayres, you cannot fail to be struck by some handsome half-castes to be seen in the police force and fire brigade, for example, and the regularity of their delicate features is very noticeable to even the observer who is least prepared for it. The Indian of South America, though closely akin to the redskin of the North, is infinitely his superior. He had, indeed, created a form of civilisation, to which the _conquistadores_ put brutally an end. There still subsist in the northern provinces of the Argentine some fairly large native settlements which receive but scant consideration from the Government. I heard too much on the subject to doubt the truth of this. Not but what many savage deeds can be laid to the charge of the Indians, as, for example, the abominable trap they laid for the peaceful Crevaux Mission in Bolivia which led to the massacre of all its members. Still, in equity we must remember that those who have recourse to the final argument of brute force are helping to confirm the savages in the habit of using it. In the interest of the higher sentimentality we must all deplore this. But our implacable civilisation has passed sentence on all races that are unable to adapt themselves to our form of social evolution, and from that verdict there is no appeal. Not that the native of the South is incapable, like his brother of the North, of performing a daily task. I saw many natives amongst the hands employed by M. Hilleret in his factories in Tucuman. Neither can it be said that there is any lack of intelligence in the Indian. But the fact remains that he finds a difficulty in bending the faculties which have grown rigid in the circle of a primitive state of existence to the better forms of our own daily work, and this renders it impossible for him to carve out a place for himself in the sunlight under the new social organism imported from Europe by the white men. With greater power of resistance than the redskins of the other continent, he, like them, is doomed to disappear. Yet in one respect he has been more fortunate than his kinsmen of the North, and will never entirely die out, for he has already inoculated with his blood the flesh of the victors. I am not going to pretend to settle in a word the problem of the fusion of races. I will only observe that the inrush of Indian blood in the masses--and also to a very considerable extent in the upper classes[15]--cannot fail to leave a permanent trace in the Argentine type, notwithstanding the steady current of immigration. And if I were asked to say what were the elemental qualities contributed to the coming race by the native strain, I should be inclined to think that the Indian's simplicity, dignity, nobility, and decision of character might modify in the happiest way the turbulent European blood of future generations. After all, the Argentino who declines to be Spanish has, perhaps, very good reasons for his action. Here, he has succeeded, better than in the Iberian Peninsula, in ridding himself of the Moorish strain, which, though it gave him his lofty chivalry, has yet enchained him to the Oriental conception of a rigid theocracy. Why should not native blood have taken effect already upon the European mixture, and, with the aid of those unknown forces which we may class under the collective term of "climate," have prepared and formed a new people to be known henceforth by the obviously suitable name of "Argentinos"? All I can say is that there are Argentine characteristics now plainly visible in this conglomeration of the Latin races. The objection may be made that the "Yankee" shows equally strongly marked characteristics, which distinguish him from the Anglo-Saxon stock, while we know that he is unaffected by other than European strains. This is undeniable, and in his case soil, climate, and the unceasing admixture of European types suffice to explain modifications which are apparently converging towards the creation of a new type or sub-type. It is remarkable that the character of the Americanised Englishman, having passed through a phase of Puritan rigidity in the North and aristocratic haughtiness in the South, has, for some inexplicable reason, burst out into a temperament of highly vitalised energy that may be summed up in the characteristic formula of a universal "go-aheadedness." The South American, on the contrary, having started with every kind of extravagance in both public and private life calculated to destroy the confidence of Europe, is obviously now undergoing a settling-down process with a marked tendency to adopt those principles of action of which the North is so proud, while at the same time retaining his affection for Latin culture. It is easier to generalise about the Argentine character than to penetrate beneath its surface. It is naturally in "society," where refinement is the highest, that traits which best lend themselves to generalisation are to be seen in strongest relief. The American of the North is, above all, highly hospitable. If you have a letter of introduction, his house is open to you at once. He establishes you under his roof and then leaves you to your own devices, while keeping himself free to continue his daily occupation. The Argentino receives you as kindly, though with more reserve. Although I know but little of the business world, I saw enough of it to gather that money enjoys as much favour there as in any other country; but the pursuit of wealth is there tempered by an indulgent kindliness that greatly softens all personal relations, and the asperities of the struggle for life are smoothed by a universal gentleness charming to encounter. In their family relations the differences between the social ideals of the North and South American are plainly visible. The family tie appears to be stronger in the Argentine than, perhaps, any other land. The rich, unlike those of other countries, take pleasure in having large families. One lady boasted in my presence of having thirty-four descendants--children and grandchildren--gathered round her table. Everywhere family anniversaries are carefully observed, and all take pleasure in celebrating them. The greatest affection prevails and the greatest devotion to the parent roof-tree. Not that the Argentine woman would appear to be a particularly admirable mother according to our standard; for, on the contrary, it is said that her children are turned out into the world with very bad manners. How, then, are we to explain the contradictory fact that such children become the most courteous of men? Perhaps a certain wildness in youth should be regarded as the noisy, but salutary, apprenticeship to liberty. All that can be seen of the public morals is most favourable. The women--generally extremely handsome in a super-Spanish way, and often fascinating[16]--enjoy a reputation, that seems well justified, of being extremely virtuous. I heard too much good about them to think any evil. They were, from what I could see, too carefully removed from the danger of conventional sins for me to be able to add the personal testimony that I have no doubt they merit. As to their feelings, or passions, if I may venture to use the word, I know nothing and therefore can say nothing. Are they capable of the self-abandonment of love, of experiencing all its joy and all its pain--inseparable as these but too often are? They did not tell me, so I shall never know. The most I can say is that they did not give me the impression of being made for the violent reactions of life as we know it in our daily European existence. I hope no one will see in this statement a shadow of criticism. It is, indeed, a compliment if you will admit that in an Argentine family love's dream is realised in the natural, orderly course of events. But if it were otherwise, it would still be to the highest credit of the women that in their _rôle_ of faithful guardians of the hearth they have been able to silence calumny and inspire universal respect by the purity and dignity of their life. Above all, do not imagine that these charming women are devoid of conversational talent. Some ill-natured critics have given them a bad reputation in this respect. Their principal occupation is evidently paying visits, and they gossip as best they can under the circumstances, considering that neither their friends nor their foes give any ground for tittle-tattle. This deficit might cause conversation to languish. Dress and news from the Rue de la Paix are a never-failing topic.[17] May not this be true in other lands? It has also been said that the beauties of Buenos Ayres are as prone to speculate in land as their menkind. It is quite possible. None will be surprised to learn that they gave me no information on this head either. They are credited, too, with being very superstitious, and are supposed to attach great importance to knowing exactly what must not be done on any given day of the week, or to what saint they should address their petitions. Here, again, I can give no authentic information. Naturally, had I been present at any of their meetings, the first condition of an exclusively feminine company would have been unfulfilled. It seems to me more reasonable to believe that the many works of public charity in which the ladies of Buenos Ayres take a share would account for much time and also for much talk. Further, I may in all sincerity remark that if female education be not one of the points in which the Argentine Republic has left us behind, it is none the less a fact that I was happy enough to meet many charming women who were perfectly capable of sustaining a thoroughly Parisian kind of conversation supported by a fund of general information. And, moreover, they added a charm of geniality and real simplicity that are not too common on the banks of the Seine. I have not spoken of shopping, which is the main occupation of the fair sex in North America, for the reason that at Buenos Ayres I saw none. I mentioned that the footwalks of the business quarter--including Florida, the handsomest and busiest of the streets--were blocked to such an extent that it was impossible to walk there two abreast. You do not expect to hear that there are any elegant toilettes in the crowd. And, in fact, in the central streets no women go afoot for pleasure. Some go about their business with hasty step, and that is all; the others receive the tradesmen at home, or take their chance of calling in the motor-car, which, after five o'clock, will probably not be allowed in the street to which they want to go. What is left, then, for the daily stroll? Only the wide avenues of the suburbs, where there is no particular attraction, and Palermo--the unique and inevitable Palermo, or rather, a part of Palermo, with the Recoleta, which makes a fine beginning for a public promenade. In these circumstances it is evident that the aspect of the pavements of Buenos Ayres suffers by the absence of the fair sex. It might be thought that at Palermo, where the walks lead amongst flowers, lawns, and groves, our Argentinos would recover the use of their limbs and guard against their dangerous tendency to an over-abundance of flesh. Not at all. Social conventions do not allow of this. Our classics, men of mature mind, were fond of saying, with the Apollo of Delphi, that excess in all things is bad. Buenos Ayres has not yet reached to this degree of wisdom, and its female society, not satisfied to follow closely after virtue, seeks to add to their fame the spice of a reputation that leaves absolutely nothing to be said. For this reason they guard against even a chance encounter that might appear compromising. And so the fair sex only consent to walk on the Palermo under the protection of a rigorous rule of etiquette which enacts that to stop and talk on a public road with a lady whom one may meet later in the day in some _salon_ is a sign of unpardonable ill-breeding. Decidedly we are far from Europe. To complete the exotic air of the place, know that all husbands are jealous, or, at least, so they say, and it must be supposed there is some foundation for the statement. As far as I was able to judge, they are as amiable as their wives, and appear by no means to harbour tragic intentions towards any man likely to arouse their resentment. No. But if by chance, after dinner, you remain chatting quietly with one or two ladies, and in the inevitable ebb and flow of a _salon_ you find yourself for a moment left alone with one, be sure that her husband, more genial than ever, will promptly appear on the scene to claim his share in the talk. At home this would appear strange, since we do not impose the spectacle of our private intimacies upon the public. Yet may not this very air of detachment upon which we insist lead, both in public and in private, to some of the tragedies of life? Is it wrong for a married couple to love each other? And when two hearts are united in this way how can a feeling so powerful fail at times to betray itself by some outward manifestation? Let us take heed lest, in laughing at others, we denounce ourselves. A man in a very high position, who is the father of a lad of twenty, volunteered to me the information that in the whole course of his married life he had nothing to reproach himself with, and that if by some misfortune he had transgressed the marriage law, he should have considered himself wholly unworthy of the woman who had given her whole life to him. No doubt the woman in question, who happened to be standing near us as we talked, fully merited his homage. Yet I wondered, as I listened to his noble and simple speech, whether one could find many Frenchmen to make in all candour such a confidence to a perfect stranger, or, supposing one found such a one, could he say as much without an embarrassed blush? Whatever may be the secret opinion of my reader, I hope he will agree with me in thinking that the advantage in this delicate matter is decidedly on the side of the Argentino, whose sane morality is the best of auguries for the community he is trying to found. I should like to say something about the Argentine girl. The difficulty is that I never saw her. Every one knows that in North America the young girl is the principal social institution. She has got herself so much talked about that neither Europe nor Asia can help knowing her. In Argentine society, as in France and in Latin countries generally, the young girl is a cipher. She may be seen, no doubt, in the home, at concerts, where she figures in large numbers for the satisfaction of our eyes, at Palermo, at the Tigre,[18] and the Ice Palace--very respectable--where she skates under her mother's eyes, and, finally, at balls, whose joys and special rites are the same the world over. But all this does not make of the South American girl an element of conversation and social doings as in the United States. She remains on the edge of society until the day of her marriage. At the same time, the Argentine girl must not be supposed to resemble very closely her sister in Latin Europe. Less educated, perhaps, but more vivacious and less timidly reserved, she shows greater independence, they tell me, at Mar del Plata, which is the sole common meeting-ground for wealthier families, since the Pampas offer no resource outside the _estancia_.[19] At the Colon Theatre and at the Opera she is seated well in view in front of the box, making the whole ground floor an immense basket of beribboned flowers, and there, under the eye of her parents, the young men who are friends of her family are permitted to pay their respects to her. Must it be confessed? It is said that she makes use of borrowed charms, applied with puff and pencil, following in this the example of her who should rather prevent than abet? This must, however, be libel, for whenever I ventured a query on the point, I was met with a shrug of the shoulders and a burst of laughter. In such a case, the man who can laugh sees always more than smoke. The father is not a negligible quantity, whatever may be said of him. I saw very plainly that it is entirely untrue that he takes no interest in his children's upbringing. I may have come across a few specimens of idle youth engaged in flinging their _piastres_ into the gutter, but as regards heads of families, there is no comparison between the number who here are seeking distractions, illicit or otherwise, for a useless existence and those of the same type to be seen in any capital of Europe. But while I have here said nothing that is not strictly true, I am not trying to represent the Argentine husband as the phoenix of the universe. Money is so plentiful that it may well be responsible for some sins, and, on occasions, I suspect that the city can supply opportunities of committing them. Even so, it is wise to maintain the strictest reserve on the subject, for Buenos Ayres smacks strong of the small country town, and there is abundance of pointed arrows for culprits who allow themselves to be caught. Still, as long as society has not decreed the total suppression of the bachelor.... None can deny that gambling occupies too large a place in the life of a certain number of the newly rich. But are we indeed justified in pretending to be more scandalised at what takes place amongst our neighbours than at home? What might I not write about the development of our _casinos_? To satisfy this vice in the masses the Argentinos have established lotteries, which now add to the temptations, powerful enough already, provided by race meetings. The evil is universal; I can but note it. The form of gambling which is special to Buenos Ayres is unbridled speculation in land. In Europe it is constantly stated that all the work of Buenos Ayres, as of the Pampas, is done by foreigners, whilst the Argentino himself sits waiting for the value of his land to treble, quadruple, decuple his fortune without effort on his part. This might easily be true, since the value of property has risen with giddy rapidity of late years. Sooner or later, of course, there must be a reaction; this is obvious. But until that day dawns it must be admitted that, in a country where every self-respecting mortal owns a bit of land, large fortunes have been realised before the fortunate proprietor has raised as much as a finger. Our fellow-countryman M. Basset told me that on his own estate the rise in value of his waste ground allowed him to recoup himself for all he lost on his arable land. Under these circumstances, it is really not surprising if prices form a general subject of conversation. It was, in fact, on a larger scale, but with less excitement, a repetition of the Fair of Mississippi stock, in the Rue Quicampoix, with this difference, that there is here some foundation for it, though it is by no means inexhaustible. But while there is no denying that land speculation occupies a special place in Argentine life to-day, it is also incontestable that all ranks of society are here, as elsewhere, devoting their energy to some great agricultural, commercial, or cattle-rearing enterprise. The _estancia_ needs a head. Herds of ten thousand cows must be well looked after if they are to be productive in their three departments--dairy, meat, or breeding. The magnificent exhibits that we see at shows are not raised by the sole grace of God, and the "big Argentinos" with whom I had the privilege of chatting not only spoke of their _estancias_ with a wealth of detail that showed a close interest, ever on the watch for improvements, but also frequently I was given to understand that they had other business which claimed part of their time. And many of them surprised me by their readiness to discuss topics of general interest that happened to be engrossing the attention of Europe at the time. The growing interest taken in all kinds of labour on the soil and the need of perfecting strains of cattle both for breeding and for meat have led the larger owners to group themselves into a club, which they call the Jockey Club. The name suffices to denote the aristocratic pretensions of an institution that has, nevertheless, rendered important services to the cause, as well for horned cattle as for horses. The sumptuous fittings lack that rich simplicity in which the English delight. The decorations are borrowed from Europe, but the working of the club is wholly American. The greatest comfort reigns in all departments of the palace, whose luxury is not allowed to dissemble itself. The cuisine is thoroughly Parisian. Fine drawing-rooms, in which the light is pleasantly diffused. A large rotunda in Empire style is the show-place of the club, but, like Napoleon himself, it lacks moderation. A severe-looking library, reading-rooms, banqueting-rooms, etc. To explain the amount of money either amassed or flung away here, it must be remembered that all the receipts taken at the race-courses--less a small tax to the Government--come back to the Jockey Club, which is at liberty to dispose of them at will. Hence the large fortune of the establishment, which has just purchased a piece of land in the best part of Buenos Ayres, for which it gave seven millions; and here it is proposed to erect a palace still more grandiose. I saw in the papers that the Jockey Club intends to offer to the Government the building they now occupy in the Rue Florida, and it is believed that the Foreign Office will be moved there. You see, the Argentine cattle breeders have found very comfortable quarters and enjoy themselves there. M. Benito Villanueva, the Chairman of the Jockey Club, is a senator, extremely prominent in the business world, who joins the most superlative form of North American "go-aheadism" with the graceful urbanity of European _bongarçonnisme_. He is in close touch with all classes in the capital, and if he cannot be said to have a hand in everybody's business, it is certain he could if he would. People who have never set eyes on him speak of him by his Christian name, and as there are not two "Benitos" of that calibre this is accepted as a matter of course. Very unceremonious, very quick of perception, and with a dash of the modern aristocrat in his bearing, he is a manager of men who would make any sacrifice to gain his end. His small black eyes are as bright as steel, and gave me an impression that it would not be agreeable to have him for an enemy. Like any man who combines politics with large business interests, he has his adversaries, but he appears entirely oblivious of them. His _estancia_, the "Eldorado," with its racing stables and prize cattle, the Senate, which he attends with great regularity, and the innumerable commercial enterprises in which he is engaged (to say nothing of the admirable Jockey Club), make him one of the busiest men in Buenos Ayres. Nevertheless, he always found time to waste in my company, and showed me much both in and out of Buenos Ayres. I found every one in the capital obliging to a degree, and it would be rank injustice to place M. Benito Villanueva in a category by himself under this heading. I will only say, therefore, that if many equalled him, none surpassed him. Who better fitted to do the honours of the Palermo racecourse than M. Villanueva? Modern arrangements, elegant fittings; no convenience missing. The Jockey Club Stand has a first-class restaurant on its upper story, where its members who are just sufficiently interested in the racing to make their bets can enjoy at the same time the pleasures of the table and a view of the winning-post. Betting is fabulously high. But the racecourse is open to the same objection as Palermo. What is to be said of the hideous embankment of yellow clay that bars the landscape? Surely the setting of a racecourse is not without its importance. As far as the convenience of the situation goes, this one leaves nothing to be desired. But really, seeing the small part played in an afternoon's racing by the events themselves, how is it that the artists who laid out this hippodrome neglected to provide a lovely view for the joy and repose of the visitors' eyes? They talk of masking the slope by plantations, but the trains that traverse the course from one end to the other will still remain visible. I have nothing against this form of amusement, though I think it almost a pity not to reserve it for the delectation of the _ranchos_ out on the Pampas, since there is no part of the plain where it might not be enjoyed. Then the displaced railway would allow of a cutting which would let in a great flood of light as far down as Rio. The racing public, from horses to humans, being everywhere the same, there would be nothing to say of either professionals or spectators, had I not noticed that the fair sex of Buenos Ayres, as seen in the stands, were wearing with confident grace the latest creations of Parisian fashions, and more than made up in quality for their possible inferiority in quantity as compared with a Longchamp gathering. I will not say that there were not a few errors in technical details here and there. But it was pleasant to see that some of our audacious Parisian freaks, contrary to what one might imagine, find only the faintest of echoes in these brilliant meetings. The reason is that the cunning display of eccentricities by beauties who have nothing to lose cannot here, as at home, react on the toilettes of society women by consequence of a universal search after novelties whose sole object is to attract attention. The reason is simple. In Buenos Ayres there is no _demi-monde_, for the few belles who cross the ocean to come here are birds of passage merely, and cannot be said to form a class. When present they avoid the grandstands of the racecourse and take refuge in the paddock, where their loneliness makes them rather an object of public pity. Still in Señor Villanueva's company, I had the pleasure of visiting the Tigre, the finest recreation ground open to the inhabitants of Buenos Ayres. But do not be misled by the name to fancy that it is a menagerie. There were, it appears, in distant ages, some few great cats that ventured as far as the mouth of the Parana in order to steal a breakfast at the expense of the citizens of the capital. Times have greatly changed. It is now the honest Argentino who comes here to get a meal after having taken proper steps to ensure the absence of the tiger. The delta of the Parana is formed by an inextricable network of channels, dotted with innumerable islets, whose luxuriant vegetation has won for them the pretty name of a "Venice of Gardens." In all this floating land imagine trees of every kind leaning over the water as though attracted by the moving reflection of their foliage; call up a picture of orchards in the glory of their spring or autumn dress; fling amongst the groves an orgy of wild and cultivated flowers; people the shade of the branches with large and small boats filled with merry young people, whose song and laughter blend with the music of the oars, and you will have an idea of the pastimes that the Tigre can offer. _Quintas_, _chalets_, built on piles, hotels, restaurants, wine-shops, resorts of all kinds, suited to all classes of society, provide a peaceful asylum for fête days and holidays, far from the turmoil and bustle of Buenos Ayres. Following the stream upwards, past miles of wood and water, there are still more picturesque sites to be visited, where man has not yet set his hand, and the boat glides in and out of these beflowered waterways as far as Parana, whence come the big boats from Paraguay laden with oranges, their decks shining in the sunlight like some quaint palace of ruddy gold. The Tigre is reached by railway in twenty minutes, and a skiff bespoken in advance awaits you at the station. But Señor Villanueva, whom nothing can daunt, wanted to try a new road, said to be just finished, in his motor-car. Now, carriage roads are not a strong point in this country, where no stones are to be found. However, after a journey that recalled at times the passage over the rollers at Auteuil Lock, we duly and miraculously reached the Tigre without quite wrecking the car, but not without some damage to our more sensitive and intimate organs. Wherefore we were assailed by a longing for the _chaises-longues_ and easy-chairs of our hotel, which drew us forthwith to the booking-office of the railway-station, whence modestly and quickly we made our way back. Since the subject of hotel furnishings thus comes under my pen, why not say at once that in the Argentine, as in Brazil, the internal arrangements of the houses show that the greater part of the time is spent out of doors? Italy, with its open-air life, was naturally the land to which the Argentino turned for architects to supply florid furniture, meant rather to look at than to use; and when to this is added cheap German goods with their clumsy designs, one may be pardoned for finding a lack of grace as of comfort, to a French way of thinking.[20] In aristocratic _salons_ the best Parisian upholsterers have at least left their mark--with a little overcrowding in effect, if the truth must be told. In a few, where "antiques" were discernible, there were evidences of an appreciation of just proportions and simplicity. But my criticisms must be taken in the most general way possible. It is in the hotels that one feels the farthest from Europe, and this in spite of a manifest attempt to do things well. A continual change of servants and a bad division of labour ensure infinite discomfort for the traveller. There is, it is true, central heating, but it works badly. Is the _pampero_ blowing? The pipes of the radiators shake the window-panes with their tempestuous snorting and bubbling, waking you out of your sleep with the suddenness of their noise; but they diffuse only cold air.[21] An electric heating apparatus, hastily put in, must be used to supplement the other. Do you want to lock up some papers? You may, perhaps, after a long search, find a key in your room, but it will assuredly fit none of the locks. As I was tiresome enough to insist, the manager, anxious to oblige me, ordered his own safe to be placed in my apartment, with all his accounts therein. When I found the drawer that was placed at my disposal, I found money in it! Oh, marvellous hospitality! To the new houses in the town chimneys are being added. The European who comes to the Argentine for the winter months--June, July, August--can be delighted with the change. But, meantime, he suffers keenly from the cold, for if the sun shines perseveringly in a cloudless sky, an icy south wind will prove very trying to Europeans who are not accustomed to such sharp contrasts.[22] As for the summer season, which I have not tried, every one talked of its charms, the greatest being, apparently, to go and wipe one's brow at the Tigre, at Mar del Plata, or on the _estancia_, in default of the mountain resorts within reach of the Brazilians. It is difficult to speak of Argentine cookery--which is rather international than local--always excepting those households that boast a French _chef_. The influence of Italy, with her macaroni and her cheese, predominates. The vegetables are mediocre; the fruit too tropical, or, if European, spoilt by the effect of the tropics. Lobsters and European fish, imported frozen, are not to be recommended; table water is excellent. The national dishes, _puchero_, or boiled beef, good when the animal has not been slaughtered the same morning; _asado_, lamb, roasted whole--savoury souvenir of my excursions in Greece, where it is to be met under the name of _lamb à la palikare_. I might add a long list whose sole interest would be the strange-sounding names given to familiar dishes. Still, as the main conditions of man and communities are necessarily unvarying, is it not in appearances and forms of expression that we find variety? FOOTNOTES: [15] I might instance a statesman who has all the externals and probably also the prudent wisdom of a pure _cacique_ of olden times. [16] I shall not take the liberty of attempting a description of Argentine beauty. Let me only mention their large black eyes, heavily shaded, the delicately golden skin, beneath which there pulses a generous blood, and the sweet and ever youthful smile. [17] "Six dresses are sufficient for me for one season in Paris; in Buenos Ayres I want quite a dozen," says an Argentine belle who was until recently a member of the Parisian diplomatic world. The more limited circles of Argentine society and the proportionately keener rivalry of personal luxury may explain the difference. [18] This is the name applied to the group of islands forming the Delta of the Parana. [19] An estate devoted to agriculture and cattle rearing. [20] The dearness of living in Buenos Ayres and especially of rents is a common theme among travellers. [21] I understand there is a scheme for adding a system of central cooling for summer use in hotels and private houses in hot climates. Nothing would be easier or more useful. Even in our own land there are many days in the season when we should be glad of cool radiators. [22] It is often said that Buenos Ayres has a "Nice winter." This is strictly true. The sun is rarely wanting, and the _rôle_ of the Mistral is played by the pampero with great success. CHAPTER VII ARGENTINE POLITICS Writing about a country, with no dogmatic intention, but drawing at haphazard from memory impressions received, has this advantage, that instead of setting down general theories that are always open to argument, certain living traits may be seized upon which, by the very fact that they are open to more than one interpretation, demand the constant collaboration of writer and reader. The method--if one may apply so big a word to so small a result--gives me an opportunity of making a few observations about the organisation and working of the Argentine Government. It seemed quite natural to the intellectuals of a democratic Republic that a democrat should come out to talk to them about democracy, to discuss the serious problems it presents and the solutions that time is more or less rapidly working out for them. Nevertheless, it is not without some legitimate trepidation that one faces a public completely unknown, proud probably of its achievements, ardently hopeful certainly for the future, and inclined, no doubt, thanks to the very sincerity of its labours, to be carried away by an excess of jealous susceptibility. I was quickly reassured. The consciousness of a great work accomplished, a keen appreciation of the finely organised effort whose astounding results are revealed anew each day, give to the Argentine people too just a confidence in the value of their activity for them to see more in any courteous criticism than a good opportunity of improving on their past--on condition, naturally, that the criticism appear to be well founded. The critic is thus disarmed, and lets fall his weapons for fear lest a shaft intended only to graze the skin should penetrate deeper and inspire a weakening doubt in the mind of men who are engaged, body and soul, in a tremendous struggle after social progress. In matters of government the Argentinos are neither better nor worse off than any people of Europe where freedom of speech has begun its work. But, notwithstanding the astonishing rapidity of assimilation that distinguishes this land, there is as yet too little homogeneity in the masses for the possibility of any influence from below, on the problems of the day, apart, of course, from matters that make appeal to patriotism, which inevitably provoke unanimity. There are many other countries of which, in spite of appearances to the contrary, the same might be said. Here, as elsewhere, politicians, who are the more or less official mouthpieces of that vague concourse of general opinions which we call the mind of the public, may very easily mistake the ephemeral demands of a party for the permanent interest of the country. A point to be noticed is that faction fights, which have for so long brought bloodshed into the cities and villages of South America, are now disappearing. It is scarcely possible, none the less, for all traces of violence to depart, leaving no reminder of movements which have made of political changes one long series of hysterics. Autocracy and sudden upheavals are inseparable. This is the lesson that the races of the Iberian Peninsula have best learnt from their governors. In Brazil, where an admirable economic movement goes hand in hand with a remarkable development of orderly progress and civic peace, recent events have shown what fires are smouldering beneath the molten streams of a dying volcano. It is to be hoped that our friends will not be found lacking either in the patience or the courage necessary to impose on the public a salutary respect for law! In Uruguay, a land of Latin amiability, the rage of revolution has frequently broken out; and if, to all appearances, there is calm to-day, Whites and Reds still exhibit mutual hostility without troubling to find reasons that might explain, if not justify, recourse to arms. The Argentinos appear farther removed from the danger of revolutionary shocks. "Wealth has quieted us," said a politician. This is no new thing. All activities profit by undisturbed work and lose by deeds of violence. Lucrative labour and the fear of losing what has been acquired go to make up a fund of prudence. But while, happily, in the Argentine there is no present menace of revolution, I cannot deny that in the provinces I often heard rumours of it. Insurrection seemed imminent. Precautions were taken to protect arsenals. And when I inquired the reason for such a movement, I was invariably told that no one knew, but that no doubt there were malcontents. One need not go as far as the Argentine to seek for them. As all these alarms ended in nothing, I must put them down as a verbal echo of a vanished epoch. I can but admire the profound peace that has succeeded to the fury of the past, for the Argentino who, in revolution, exposed his person so light-heartedly did not fear to take the life of his enemy. But can it be affirmed that in no department of the Administration there has survived some trace of the cavalier methods of former days? Is it true that some officials do as they like with the people committed to their charge, and inflict treatment that is passively borne for the moment, but may lead to terrible reprisals later? It was often stated in my hearing, but I could never obtain any proof. I shall not make myself the echo of slanders and calumny, which, in all lands, are the weapons used by public men against each other. I will only take the liberty of reminding my Argentine friends that one never need fear excess on the side of a watchful control over Government offices. M. Thiébaud, the Minister of France, presented me to M. Figueroa Alcorta, the President of the Republic.[23] He gave me the most cordially courteous of receptions, prompted, of course, by the respect and friendship that Argentine statesmen have for France. The President's first words were an inquiry as to whether I was as comfortable at the Palace Hotel as at the _Hôtel du Mouton_, in Chantonnay (Vendée). This showed me that the President of the Argentine Republic was a reader of the _Illustration_, for a photograph of that more than modest establishment was recently published in the columns of the review on the occasion of an expedition I made to my native country, when I put up at the little inn. I assured him that the resources of Buenos Ayres were infinitely superior, and from this we wandered off into a very interesting talk about our two countries. M. Figueroa Alcorta was Vice-President of the Republic when the death of President Quintana called him to the supreme _magistratere_. I fancied that a good many people found it hard to forgive him this unlooked-for good fortune. Some journalists thought it funny to create for him the reputation of a "Jettatore," an inexhaustible subject for spiteful tales in the Opposition sheets. They say the story has not been without influence on the feminine world, specially prone to superstition. M. Figueroa Alcorta appears to bear the misfortune with calm courage. He talks of the Argentine with a modesty that does not exclude a just pride, and for France he had only sympathetic admiration. Let me say also that President Saënz Peña, whom I twice saw in Buenos Ayres, is a devoted friend to France and French culture. It is my duty to add that M. Saënz Peña's attention has been called to certain lapses in the administration, and he is firmly resolved to put an end to them. The Minister of Foreign Affairs, M. de la Plaza, has, since my journey, become Vice-President of the Republic. He is rather heavy and cold in appearance--with the silent gravity of the _cacique_, it is said--but he is a man of profound culture and keen mind, and it is not impossible that his taciturnity and slowness of speech are merely diplomatic. He enjoys the reputation of being a thorough Anglomaniac, but this, fortunately, does not preclude him from being also a Francophil.[24] I must mention the Minister of Public Works, M. Ramos Mexia, who was continued in his important office by President Saënz Peña when the Cabinet was new-formed. In a country where great public works are constantly being undertaken, an upright mind and an iron will, united to a spotless reputation, are all needed to resist the overtures of the large European firms that are clamouring for contracts. A vast field for quarrels, more or less veiled personal attacks, and unending recriminations. I do not want to recriminate myself, or, indeed, to touch on any delicate questions; yet I must regret the preference that has been shown for Krupp cannon, when innumerable experiments have demonstrated the infinite superiority of French guns. I have already pointed out that England, by our wilful negligence, managed to obtain the right of building practically the whole of the railway system. She has done the work to the satisfaction of the public, and the same may be said of the way Germany has installed the electric systems. France triumphs in the ports of Rosario, Montevideo, Pernambuco, Bahia-Blanca, and Rio Grande do Sul. That is all I can say, for at the moment there exists the keenest European competition in the harbour works of Mar del Plata and Buenos Ayres. Some complain that Ramos Mexia has been too favourable to England. He is, however, first and foremost an Argentino, and he uses his right to take the best from each country. If there has been in the past some little friction, I fancy it is now over; it hardly could be otherwise, for M. Ramos Mexia is a warm admirer of French culture, and as well acquainted with our classics as our contemporaries, beside being a regular attendant at the lectures at the Sorbonne and Collège de France whenever he is able to take a little recreation in Paris. Need I add that Mme. Ramos Mexia is the most French of all the Argentinos whom I met--French in the graciousness of her welcome and French in charm of conversation. We know that in the Argentine (and perhaps in all South American republics, with the exception of Chili) Ministers are not responsible to Parliament. In Chili, Parliamentary coalitions amuse themselves by knocking over Ministers like ninepins. In the Argentine it is the rule--to which there are exceptions--for Ministers to follow the President, whose agents they are, having the sole function of obtaining from the Chambers the funds required to carry on the administration. Before I weigh up the advantages and disadvantages of this system, which was imported ready-made by South America from the north, let me record the surprise I felt when I discovered that, notwithstanding the absurd stories told of the lack of measure in "hot countries," a South American assembly could give a lesson in dignity to more than one European Parliament. In England, as we know, measures have been taken to prevent personal questions from being introduced into debates, where the interests of the public alone occupy members' attention. Here the chivalrous temperament of Castile suffices as a guarantee against excesses of language or abuses at the hands of the majority. For instance, in some cases a speaker is granted only ten minutes in which to give the merest sketch of his Bill. If the orator be a member of the minority, however, Speaker and Chamber make it a point of honour to let him take as long as he likes. If he goes too far the rule is applied; but this, I was assured, never happens. Finally, "it is our constant rule," said a member well qualified to make the statement, "not to let slip allusions in the course of a debate that might hurt the feelings of a colleague. This requires no effort. It is just a habit one can acquire." May the "habit" be shortly acquired in all lands! Now that the tide of free civilisation is setting towards a dissolution of all autocratic Powers, from Russia to Persia, and even to China, instituting the parliamentary system which we have come to regard as the best instrument for controlling and liberating the democracy, it is a remarkable fact that, in practice, Parliament is much criticised, more particularly in countries where it was only obtained after long and painful struggles. The reason, to my mind, must be sought in the unpardonable waste of time in debates, where free rein is given to a puerile love of theatrical display. In the absence of any salutary check on the humours of orators, too little attention is given to bringing the discussions to a practical conclusion. A good reformer should be able first to reform himself. It is less the Parliament than the executive that attracts the European observer of American institutions. This is because Parliament is dominated by the executive, instead of being itself the dominating power. The South American republics hastened to copy the Constitution of the United States of the North, which is the original creation of the revolution of 1776, and adapted, in a marvellous degree, to the needs, idea, and sentiment of the country. Adopting its text, if not its spirit, the South Americans fell into the same error as Europe has done in copying the English Constitution in the letter, but not in the spirit and sense given to it by the people whom it justly claims to express. Without entering on a discussion that would lead me too far, I could not refrain from remarking that in actual working the North American institutions have become distorted in South America, a change rendered inevitable by the different level of public education and the geographical distribution of the population. It was in the nature of things that the earliest civilisation should partake of the constitution of states or provinces destined later to form a federation, but as long as the Motherland imported the sovereign authority from outside, the struggles between a budding liberty and an unchecked autocracy were unceasing. Once self-government had been proclaimed, it became obligatory to constitute such elements of public life as should make its exercise possible. Now, for this, it is not enough to draw up a code of principles. We cannot, then, be surprised if the South American races, fondly attached to their own institutions, which maintain the principle of an autonomy of federated States and provide for their idealism a verbal satisfaction, inestimable, as they think, are yet (just like other nations now undergoing democratic evolution) far enough from an adequate realisation of their idea. We can scarcely expect any concerted political action from men (often of foreign birth) who are scattered all across the Pampas and separated by enormous distances. And, as regards the cities, great or small, a political _élite_ will more easily organise itself--especially where an absence of public opinion facilitates the abuse of power--than will the "sovereign people" be brought to exercise their sovereignty (and this we see even in Europe). Hence the evils often made public, which are but striking examples of what we see elsewhere; notably, the indifference of the electoral body, evidenced by the contemptibly small number of voters who answer the summons to the ballot--and of these few some have been brought thither by who knows what means! To this public apathy must be added the abstention of the middle classes, always difficult to incite to a common political action, who thus leave a wider field than is desirable to the machinations of the professional politician, with his methods, direct or indirect, of bringing pressure upon the elector. I have no hesitation in speaking of the evil. But at the same time I must point out that if the mind of the public--such as the intellectual _élite_ of the nation have made it--experiences some difficulty in getting used to the slow methods of organised political action, the independent spirit and personal dignity of the citizens are so strong[25] that a force of public opinion is gradually evolving which, in spite of some backsliding, will soon be powerful enough to impose its decisions on the world of political intrigue. For instance, it is frequently said that the President of the Republic does, in effect, nominate his successor by reason of his authority with the State Legislature, and there is a grain of truth in the assertion. Yet if it were strictly true, the same party would remain in perpetuity in power, and this we know is not the case. Thus public opinion, when it pronounces itself with sufficient decision, can, with the help of a wholesome fear of revolt, vanquish all resistance and bring in its candidate. In this way any eventual abuse of personal influence is, in effect, prevented, and this is precisely what happened in the case of the election of M. Saënz Peña. I fear that nowhere are institutions worked according to rule. Before throwing stones at the Argentine, let us look at our own deficiencies. The weak place in South American constitutions, as organised on the theory of Jefferson, appears to us Europeans to lie in the fact that too much power is vested in the individual. In our continent this would open the door to the danger of a reconstitution of the forces of the past, whose only hope now lies in the possibility of a surprise. In America a federation of divided Powers offers so many different centres of resistance (providing always that each State Government enjoys a real autonomy) to any attempt at usurpation. The American of the South is no less attached than his brother of the North to the principle of autonomy of States. It only remains for him to make it a reality. As a matter of fact, moreover, the theoretic independence of Ministers and Parliament does not hold together, in view of the omnipotence of the representative assemblies in matters of finance. This system has the advantage of making a series of crises impossible, but a Minister must, and always does, disappear when a succession of votes proves that he no longer possesses the confidence of Parliament. In America, as in Europe, the Press is the highest power after the Government. I say "after," because we must believe the Constitution. It is, however, only too true that the moral paralysis that distinguishes certain "popular leaders," whose chief anxiety is to trim their course to every wind that blows, leaves to any one who claims to speak in the name of public opinion a degree of authority before which the individuality of the pretended governing body, in spite of its pomp of speeches, is apt to disappear. But although the Press plays unquestionably a very important _rôle_ in the Argentine, it did not appear to me that the evil went as far as this. Not but what, perhaps, the man who owns a newspaper is as much inclined here as anywhere to make the most use he can of its influence. But in a land that calls out the best in any man, even the Latin, usually so easy a prey to the designs of the political revolutionary, manages to preserve enough independence of character to offer an effective resistance to projects that are too flagrantly opposed to his own calmer views. Argentine statesmen, worthy the name, are not content to hold opinions of their own; they are perfectly capable of the tenacity necessary to put a scheme into execution and carry it through. Clearly the advantages that go to make up the success of the Argentine Republic would count for nothing were there no strong minds to grasp the higher principles of public interest and no strong hearts to enforce their practice. The Argentine is a battlefield where every kind of moral force, including politics and sociology, is now in the full heat of action, and exposed to all the chances and changes common to weak humanity. Public activity is here, as in all countries, manifested chiefly by means of parties, a necessity, practically, which has at least as many advantages as disadvantages. Casuists have argued much about the relative qualities of "human" parties and those of any given intellectual symbol. The Argentine Government is not based upon a traditional or historic fact, but on a theory of right in which originates an organisation of justice and liberty that can only pass from principle to practice when the citizens are capable of clothing its bare bones with the living sinews of action; but this fact in no sense changes the problem, since man without the intellectual symbol or idea can be only a disturbing force, and the idea in politics has no value apart from the man who can give it life. The old-fashioned Press of ideas has made prodigious strides since the days of Armand Carrel, and the modern reader is more especially greedy for facts. With these before him he forms his own opinions, and the most the writer can do is to prepare the way towards a given deduction, without being able to discount its acceptance with any certainty. In reality, the Argentine Press is no better and no worse than that of any free countries; and, whether as regards news or party politics, the newspapers are extremely well conducted.[26] Not but that you may find occasional violence of language, as happens everywhere, but there are extremes which the public will not tolerate. There are no pornographic Press and no pictures of a kind to defile the eyes of every passer-by. On this we may congratulate a race whose healthy energies find too continuous employment in the sunshine for them to develop any tendency towards the excesses of "civilised" corruption. The _Prensa_ is, as we all know, the leading newspaper of the South American continent. Under the skilful control of its founder, M. Paz, the _Prensa_ has reached a state of prosperity which, within the limits of its field of action, makes it the equal of any advertising agency in the world. It is a paper that has to be reckoned with by every party, for although not officially attached to any group of politicians, it obviously seeks--while maintaining the principles of democratic evolution--to hold the balance between all parties, ready if necessary to intervene at the critical moment. Just now its general editor is M. Ezequiel Paz, who seems in every way capable of carrying on his father's work. M. Zeballos is credited with being the fount of inspiration of the paper. The ex-Minister of Foreign Affairs is at the same time a literary man, a legal expert, and a historian. His writings on questions of law are highly esteemed in Europe. An untimely dispute with Brazil drove him out of office, and gave him the leisure he is turning to account now. M. Paz is enjoying a well-earned rest in Europe, but he retains supreme control of the sheet; and a gorgeous palace that he is building in the best part of Buenos Ayres would appear to point to an intention of returning to the country before long. If he does I cannot help pitying him, for he will require nothing less than the Court of Louis XIV., or perhaps of Xerxes, to fill this showy dwelling. The business quarters of the _Prensa_ are in the Avenue of May, and if smaller in dimensions, they are no less magnificent. The building is one of the sights of the city. How shall I describe it? It would fill a volume. Every department of the paper is lodged in a way that unites the most perfect of means to the end in view. Simplicity of background, a scrupulous cleanliness, comfort for every worker therein, with a highly specialised method that gathers together all the varied workers on the staff to direct them towards their final end and aim, namely, promptness and accuracy of news. With all this there are outside services, such as a dispensary, so complete it would need a specialist to catalogue it, and suites of apartments that are placed at the disposal of persons whom the _Prensa_ considers worthy the honour. I confess that I thought less luxury in this part of the building would have been more to the taste of the poor distinguished men who are lodged there, since a comparison with their own modest homes would be wholly to the disadvantage of the latter. The _Nacion_ is a party organ in the best sense of the word, following the exalted traditions of Bartolome Mitre. It has been compared with our _Temps_. My friend Antonio Piñero exercises considerable influence here over the descendants of the great statesman. But for the quiet and invaluable help given by the _Nacion_, all of whose interests lay in the opposite direction,[27] we should never have succeeded in getting the law establishing literary proprietorship through Parliament. It is my duty as well as my pleasure to take this opportunity of offering my grateful thanks in the quarter where they are due. The _Diario_, in its turn, deserves special mention on account of its editor, M. Manuel Lainez, senator, who has a rare command of the most refined of Parisian critical talent, the sting of which does not exclude mirth. M. Lainez is one of those journalists who excel in detecting the weak spot in men and things and take a delight in driving home the shaft of a caustic phrase. He dissects with ease, and disguises the depth of his own knowledge under a thin veil of irony. I know of no more charming talker. Whether or no his wit has injured his political prospects is a point I am not able to decide. Then I must mention the _Argentina_, which seemed to me an honest news organ; and finally, I must not neglect the photographic papers, the _P. B. T._ and the _Caras y Carietas_, in which the spoken word gives place to the picture, according to the formula lately invented amongst us. Both have a large circulation. We all remember the words that Ibsen has placed in the mouth of his "Enemy of the People" about papers being edited by their readers. No doubt the gazette, nowadays, seeks less to establish an idea than to conform to the supposed feelings of the masses in whose hands is the key of success. Its educational influence has, of course, been in consequence greatly reduced; still, a remnant exists. The culture, slow but inevitable, of the masses must in time have a good influence on the Press that caters for them. Photography, when genuine, and the cinematograph, which vitalises it, have a real educational value. The trouble is that nothing is sacred to the Argentine photographer. He is omnipresent and enjoys the execrable privilege of being at home in all homes. You give a dinner-party to friends or relations. With the dessert there appear some pale persons, draped in black, who disturb servants and guests to set up their complicated lenses on the spot that strikes their fancy. Then comes the blinding flash and a poisonous puff of smoke, and the master of the house hastens to thank the intruders for the outrage. The _diable boiteux_, who lifted the roofs of houses, has been surpassed. When an unfortunate Argentino wants to offer his heart (always accompanied by his hand) to the lady of his choice, let him begin by doubly locking all the doors and hermetically closing the shutters, if he wishes to be safe from intrusion! I alluded just now to the voting of the Law of Literary Property.[28] As may be supposed, such an excellent Act was not carried through without long preparation. I could give a list of men who, on both sides of the ocean, worked in favour of this act of justice and literary honesty. From the moment that Argentine statesmen realised that purely intellectual labour had proprietary rights in the same way as every other kind, and that to defraud its owners of the proceeds was to place themselves outside the pale of civilisation, they made it a point of honour to yield to the representations made to them from all parts of the world. Is it not extraordinary that a law which was diametrically opposed to the interests of persons particularly well placed to defend them should have been voted unanimously without a single protest? All honour to the Argentine Republic, not only for the act itself, but for the nobility with which it was performed. It would be an affectation on my part to pass over in silence the public which did me the honour to come to listen to my lectures on democratic evolution as it manifests itself in history and in contemporary events. The subject is not wildly amusing. It is, however, one of those that are of surpassing importance to-day, and none can ignore it. Unfortunately, the general public cannot acquire any trustworthy knowledge of it by scrappy reading indulged in between the hours of the day's work; and if in the tumult of party passion the public are to be of any real service to their Government in solving it, the problem calls for more than a hasty and summary judgment founded on insufficient data. And yet was it not too much to expect of people who are engrossed all day by their own affairs to come to listen to the statements of a public man, against whom there must necessarily be some prejudices on a question of pure doctrine? The majority of workers are not free of an afternoon, and the "upper classes," even the most cultured--in Europe, at least,--are too distrustful of democratic movements in general to waste an hour on a subject that worries them. Happily, the history of American peoples has never been embittered by race hatred engendered by centuries of oppression, and revolts of which it is to be hoped that we have now seen the end. In the North, as in the South, a formula frightens nobody. Society has been built up on a new idea embodied in language that was once the terror and scandal of the Old World. When put in practice, however, these ideas and their verbal expression have stood the test of a century of trial; and the "practical" men of the new continent, while no less alive to social needs than any others, are, perhaps, more ready than the rest of us to make an experiment that can be recommended by right and by reason. There is here neither middle class nor aristocracy in the sense that we attach to those terms in the Old World. All are workers who, having reached the top rung of the ladder, are ready to hold it steady for other feet to climb, rather than to overturn it and retard the advance of those behind. Thus, beside the small aristocracy formed of the last vestiges of the original Spanish colony, I had the pleasure and honour of finding a large public of European culture and wide intelligence, eager to hear what any European might have to say about an idea whose course he was honestly seeking to trace, whether bearing on the political and social experiences of Europe or on the more or less rational experiments of which their own land is the theatre. Their unbiassed criticism and independent opinions are all one could hope to find in an audience one is trying to influence. The very best public possible, prepared to surrender or resist according to the intrinsic value of the arguments presented. The element of resistance came, perhaps, from the feminine section, slightly actuated by snobbishness, and either holding itself aloof by way of protest against the possible utterance of ideas too bold to be acceptable, or attending the lectures in order to get some understanding of the subject so as to discuss it afterwards. As regards language, there was no difficulty. Every one here understands French, reading and speaking it like the speaker himself, and showing by their gestures that no shade of meaning was lost on them. What better could one wish? By the grace of winged words the mind of France has flown across the ocean, and we may rejoice in the fact and found great hopes for the future on it. It is therefore with the greatest pleasure that I offer my heartfelt gratitude to this admirable audience for their constant kindliness and for the encouragement that I found in their remarkable idealism and determination. FOOTNOTES: [23] I take this opportunity of thanking M. and Mme. Thiébaud for the friendly welcome I found at the French Legation. [24] If to Argentine diplomacy the rigidity of our famous chapel on the Quai d'Orsay be unknown, they have none the less given us first-class men--such, for instance as the present Minister for Foreign Affairs, M. Ernesto Bosch, who is much esteemed in the French political world, and his worthy successor in Paris, M. Enrique Rodriguez Larreta. [25] It pleases me to note the triumph of pride over vanity shown in the fact that the Argentinos have deliberately renounced the childish folly of orders. [26] Thanks to the difference in the clocks, the Buenos Ayres newspapers are able to publish in their morning editions news appearing at the same time in London and Paris. [27] The _Nacion_ publishes a Library of translations of the best works in French (fifty per cent. of the whole), English, Russian, German, Italian, to say nothing of Spanish and Argentine works in the original. [28] I regret to say that Brazil is backward in this respect. Let us hope she will not let Russia get ahead of her! CHAPTER VIII PAMPAS LIFE Every capital is a world in itself--a world in which national and foreign elements blend; but to understand the life of a nation one must go out into the country. A vast territory, ten times the size of France, extending from Patagonia to Paraguay and Bolivia, will naturally offer the greatest diversity of soil and climate, representing differing conditions of labour as well as of customs and sometimes of morals. Our ancient Europe can in the same way show ethnical groups with sufficiently marked features (such as in our French provinces) which a long history has not been able to destroy or even to modify. It is quite another matter when, on a continent with no history at all, you get men of every origin spread over it, brought thither by a community of interest and in the hope of cultivating the soil by their labour. I have already said what racial characteristics subsist. The colonist will, of course, at first do all he can to remain what the land of his birth has made him; the first evidence of this is his tendency to fall into groups and form national colonies. But the land of his adoption will in time surely force upon him the inevitable conditions of a new mode of life, the very necessity of adapting himself to changed conditions making of him a new creature, to be later definitely moulded by success. The Pampas are not the Argentine. They form, however, so predominant a part that they have shaped the man and the race by imposing on them their organisation of agricultural labour and the development of their natural resources. Whilst manufactures are still in a rudimentary state and are likely to remain so for a long time to come owing to the lack of coal, the Pampas from the Andes to the ocean offer an immense plain of the same alluvial soil from end to end, ready to respond in the same degree to the same effort of stock-raising or agriculture. An identical stretch of unbroken ground, with identical surface, identical pools of subterranean water, no special features to call for other than the unchanging life of the _Campo_. Naturally, the first experiments were made in the most rudimentary fashion on the half-wild herds of cattle that could not be improved unless the European market were thrown open. As soon as this outlet was assured the whole effort of skill and money was directed towards the improvement of stock, and the progress made in a few years of work far exceeded the brightest hopes of those early days. And as at the same time a powerful impetus was given to wheat-growing, the Pampas from one end to the other of their vast extent immediately took on a dual aspect: cattle farms (herds grazing on natural or artificial pastures), and acres of grain (wheat, oats, maize, and flax)--this is the only picture that the Pampas offer or ever can offer to the traveller. The system of cattle-breeding, primitive in the extreme at a distance from railroads, improves in proportion as the line draws nearer; wherever the iron road passes there is an immediate development of land under cultivation. All this goes to make up a man of the _Campo_--the _estanciero_, colonist, peon, _gaucho_, or whatever other name he may be called. Certain conditions of living and working are forced upon him from which there is no escape. Whether landed proprietor, farmer, servant, or agricultural labourer, the vastness of the plain which opens in front of him, the distance between inhabited dwellings, the roughness of the roads, leave him no other means of communication but the horse, which abounds everywhere and can be unceremoniously borrowed on occasion. The man of the _Campo_ is a horseman. He is certainly not an elegant horseman, whose riding would be appreciated at the Saumur Cavalry School. No curb; only a plain bit is used, whose first effect is to bring down the animal's head and throw him out of balance, whilst his rider, to remedy this defect, raises his hands as high as his head. To the unsightliness of this picture is added an unstable seat. As very often happens in similar circumstances, instinct and determination more or less making up for all mistakes, the rider manages approximately to keep on his beast's back, thanks partly to the fact that the horse is rarely required to go at more than a moderate pace over level ground. The hoof never by any chance can strike on a stone, though it may be caught in a hole; the active little _creole_ horse excels in avoiding this danger. One can ask no more of him. (I shall have something to say later of the way wild horses are broken in.) On his enormous saddle of sheepskin, the peon or _gaucho_, his hat pulled well down over his eyes, his shoulders draped in the folds of the _poncho_,--a blanket with a hole in it for the head to pass through,--is encumbered with a whip whose handle serves on occasion as a mallet, and a lasso, with or without metal balls, coiled behind his saddle. He makes a picturesque enough figure in the monotonous expanse of earth and sky, where _rancho_ or tree, beast or man, stand out in high relief against a background of glaring light. Without sign or syllable, his eyes fixed on the empty horizon, the man passes through the silence of infinite solitude, rising like a ghost from the nothingness of the horizon at one point to sink again into nothingness at another. When riding in a troop, they talk together in low tones. There are none of those outbursts of fun that you might expect in a land of sunshine. It is the gravity natural to men brought face to face with Nature in the pitiless light of sky and earth where no fold or break in the surface arrests the glance or fixes the attention. Still, there are those gigantic herds of horned cattle or horses which fill an appreciable portion of the melancholy plain--"green in winter, yellow in summer." I say nothing of the great flocks of sheep because there were none in the districts which I visited. When you talk of a herd of ten thousand cows, you make some impression on even a big farmer of the Charolais. Well, I can assure you that out in the Pampas ten thousand head of cattle is a small affair. You see a dark shadow that rises on the horizon that might be either a village or a group of haycocks, until the vague shifting of the mass suggests to your mind the idea of some form of life. The lines show clearer, groups break off and stand out, pointed horns appear, and at last you find you are watching the tranquil passage of a monstrous herd, whose outlines are stencilled in black upon the whiteness of the sky-line like the Chinese shadow pictures I saw on one occasion at the _Chat Noir_ (in Montmartre) when the flocks of the patriarchs were flung upon the sheet. So distinct are the shapes here that you lose the sense of distance and are astonished at the harmony of nonchalant impulse, as irresistible as slow, which can thus set in movement this huge living mass and make it pass before us like a vision of Fate. The dream fantasy is the more striking because it changes so rapidly. Withdraw your eyes a moment from the picture, and it is entirely altered. The heavy mass of migrating cattle seems now to have taken root at the opposite extremity of the horizon, whilst in the depths of the luminous distance shadowy patches of haze more or less distinct betoken further living bodies, some stationary, some in motion. These are mirages of the Pampas of which none takes any heed; but upon me they made a powerful impression, for I saw in them the whole tragedy of this land, from the tuft of grass on which the eyes of the beast first saw the light down to the last step of that fateful journey which ends at the slide of the slaughter-house. The rapid travelling of the motor-car multiplies one's point of view. The vast estates on the Pampas, which run from two to a hundred square miles in extent, are further divided into large sections bounded by wire fencing to limit the wandering of the herds. The roads are marked out by a double row of wire. What dust and what mud may be found thereon, according to weather conditions, may be imagined, since there is not the smallest pebble to be found there. Yet vehicles do, it appears venture along these paths, and even arrive at their destination. You may also meet flocks of sheep and oxen on them, and families of pigs engaged in breakfasting on a sheep that has been relieved of its skin. In less than an hour its bones, picked clean, are scattered along the way, where in process of time they will contribute precious phosphates to the soil. Naturally, on such a "road," the automobile does not yearn to travel; rather does it prefer the green smoothness of the immense prairie. Here there are no police regulations to annoy the motorist. No other law but your own fancy and a certain thought for the savoury lunch that is awaiting you at the next _estancia_. When you reach it you will discover that the monstrous herds on the horizon were merely these gentle creatures, placid in their happy ignorance of the fell designs that are the hidden causes of man's kindness to them. Do we astonish them? Or are they wholly indifferent? Their eyes are fixed on our panting machines as ours are on the grazing beasts, and not a spark is struck by the meeting of the two intelligences, the one so calmly definite and the other too soon checked in its effort to understand. Obedient to the _rebenque_ (whip) of the peon, the herd, which in motion looks so threatening, allows itself to be stopped or led by the cries and rapid movements of the horsemen going at a hand-gallop. The sight of any object that waves in the wind (whether coat or _poncho_) is equally effectual. If one expects the cows, which are penned for milking (three quarts a day as an average), the only apparent relations between man and beast consist in the easy use of this instrument of terror. Nothing is done for the flock except to provide the mill which automatically feeds the water-troughs, and to see to the safe arrival of the bulls intended to improve the breed, and to select those from the herd destined for the freezing machines; for all their other needs Providence is expected to provide--quite a different _régime_ from that prevailing in our French stock-farms. Of shelter against wind or sun there is none. The grass is there when the drought has not burnt it up, also an ugly thistle which no one troubles to pull up and which sometimes overruns the pasture. Of Nature's scourges, the drought is the most to be feared, for it falls with fearful suddenness on great stretches of the _Campo_. In the absence of rain, neither turf nor forage nor harvest can be looked for; for the cattle, death is certain. Winter in any case is a hard season for them. Their coats lose their gloss, their flanks fall in, and their pointed bones witness to their sufferings, which the icy breath of the _pampero_ does nothing to assuage. With the spring comes the hope of rain. But if this hope is betrayed, nothing can save innumerable herds from starvation and death. Forage is always stored for the more precious of the stock, but to feed the herd is out of the question. The Pampas then become one vast cemetery where hundreds of thousands of dead cattle are lying in heaps beyond all possibility of burial. It is the custom to leave the body of the beast that dies by the way to the tender mercies of the wind and the sun, the rain and the earth, into whose wide-open pores the remains are little by little absorbed. The birds of prey and dogs are valuable assistants but wholly insufficient. One of my friends told me that it was by no means uncommon for the dogs to return to the farm from the _Campo_ bearing a horrible smell about them. For my part, if I was often revolted by the spectacle of putrefying carcasses lying about the Pampas and seen either on my walks or from the railway-train--some even lying festering in pools close to dwelling-houses--I cannot say that my olfactory nerves were ever troubled. I occasionally spoke of the danger of poisonous fly-bites, but I got only vague replies. In my personal experience, whenever I met something disagreeable on my walks about the Pampas, the carcass was invariably completely mummified, the skin being so thoroughly tanned that the object might have been carefully prepared for a museum of comparative anatomy. But when death was recent, and the summer season had set in, with its attendant flies, I should certainly avoid the neighbourhood. It will surprise no one to hear that I took the liberty of calling the attention of two or three statesmen to the dangers of this unfortunate custom and the detestable impression it is bound to make on travellers. The reply invariably was that the Argentine was suffering, and would, no doubt, continue to suffer for some time to come, from a lack of hands and that the thousands of animals which under normal conditions perished in the Pampas could never find grave-diggers. When, therefore, a dry season killed off as many as ten thousand sheep on a single ranch, there was no alternative but to bow to the inevitable. We see that cattle-rearing in the Argentine has its ups and downs. At every turn Nature intervenes with its elements of success or disaster. Man's _rôle_ is to furnish a minimum of labour, and by the force of circumstances, he is compelled to reckon on quantity for his modicum of success; but the fact does not prevent his successful efforts to improve the quality. As I have already said, he will give any prize to secure a fine strain. It is naturally from England that he gets his stock for breeding, since the customers for his meat are chiefly English. On all hands I was told that the results were most satisfactory. As regards their breed of horses, the result is manifest. But as for the cattle, I take the liberty of disagreeing with those who declare that the Argentine can send to our slaughter-houses at La Villette meat as fine as our own at half its price. If, however, I am firmly convinced that our palate would not readily be satisfied with the frozen meat that seems to please the English, I am quite aware that there is a distinction to be drawn between the choice beasts, generally magnificent, that make such a show at exhibitions and the common run of the average flock, amongst which truth compels me to admit there are some very indifferent animals. It will require a long time and a change of system on the cattle-rearing farms for the Argentine ever to equal the fine products of our French breeders. It cannot be otherwise as long as the young animal, bred somewhat at haphazard and born on the open camp between the corpses of some of its relations, is left to grow up as best it can, exposed to every change of temperature. Everywhere I came upon young calves abandoned by their mothers as soon as born, and only sought out when the time for feeding came round; it cannot be said that the stock would bear comparison with the average produce of a Norman or Charolais byre. Not all the quality of its mother's milk will suffice to make up for the ground lost by neglect. As I have said, the troops of horses seem to have lost the least. I speak less of their appearance than of their action, which often seemed to me remarkable. You cannot imagine the pleasure it is to glide swiftly across the Pampas in a motor-car with a troop of young horses on either side of you, neighing and galloping to keep up with the machine. But do not, pray, call them "wild horses." Tradition to the contrary notwithstanding, I believe there are no wild horses in the Argentine. There are horses, and there are horsemen who treat them brutally under the pretext of breaking them in. This is a survival of ancient times which not even the universality of the horse in civilised countries can destroy. Any English squire will get more out of a young horse by quiet skill and kindness than can ever be obtained by the useless and cruel lasso, to which I shall return later. I have shown you the Pampas alive with the swarms of their new civilisation. We are far enough from the romantic descriptions so dear to story-tellers. We all know now that the redskin of North America bears no resemblance to the portraits painted of him by Chateaubriand or Fenimore Cooper. The Pampas, in full process of evolution, are getting more human and losing their distinctive features. They were once as bare, to quote the joke of a poet, now a member of the Académie Française, "as the speech of an academician"; man has undertaken to raise up orchards, groves, and even forests. Once they were the refuge of more or less innocent beasts. The son of Adam, by the mere fact of his presence, treads out all life that cannot be made of use to himself. I said that the _ombu_ was the only tree that flourished in the Pampas, for the simple reason that the locusts devour every other vegetable product, including clover, crops, and trees of all sorts. The damage caused by these insects, which descend in clouds and destroy in a moment the harvest, is only too well known by our Algerian colonists. Wherever the cloud descends vegetation vanishes. In a few hours every leaf is gone from the tree, and only the kernel, clean and dry, is left on the branch as a mute witness of the irreparable disaster. I did not see the locusts, but I was shown the result of their work, most conscientiously carried out. Men who have put long months of toil into their land see, with impotent rage, all the fruit of their toil swept off in the twinkling of an eye. The Government lays out some millions yearly to assuage in some sort the mischief done. But the only remedy applied up to the present consists in making such a din on the approach of the baneful host as to induce them to go on farther and land at a neighbour's. As altruism, this course is not above reproach. Another way is to dig ditches in which to bury them alive, but this is mere child's play. If you inquire the origin of the scourge you will get the sulky reply that the pest comes from Chaco, and that some men have travelled thither to verify the statement, but the country proving impenetrable, the project has for the moment been abandoned. I hasten to place these insufficient data before the European public. Alone victorious over the locusts by the repugnance it inspires, and over man by its glorious uselessness, the _ombu_ here and there spreads its triumphant arms near some ranch; occasionally, on the pasturage of the _Campo_, it may be seen extending its shelter to some quadruped that shuns the rays of the sun. Around his _estancia_ the farmer plants his orchard and his ornamental thicket, which will flourish or not at the will of the insects. After the passage of the destructive horde it requires at least two years for the country to recover. The eucalyptus, owing to its rapid growth, gives very good results, but the favourite tree in the Pampas is the _paraiso_--the Tree of Paradise--which is admirable rather for its flower than its form, and withstands to some extent the locust, through sheer force of resistance. Occasionally one comes upon a small wood, in which the _ornevo_--the cardinal--sings and the dove coos. For the _Campo_ has a whole population of running or flying creatures, whose principal virtue is that of being satisfied with little in the shape of a shelter. The gardens and parks of the _estancias_ provide a natural asylum for a world of winged songsters, in whom man, softened by isolation, has not yet inspired terror. But the Pampas in their nudity are not without signs of life. There is the guanaco, smaller than the llama, larger than the stork, which has already retreated far from Buenos Ayres. The grey ostrich, formerly abundant, has been decimated by the lasso of the _gaucho_, who, at the risk of getting a kick that may rip him open, attacks the beast that struggles wildly in the bonds of the cruel rope, drags out his handsomest feathers, and then lets him go. The really "wild" ostrich has disappeared from the Pampas. Numbers may be seen from the window of the train, but they are all confined in fenced parks, and are really in captivity. I cannot be expected to give a list of all the creatures that swarm on or under the soil of the _Campo_. There is nothing to be said about the prairie-dog, which has been systematically destroyed on account of the damage it does. I must mention the _tatou_, a small creature with a pointed muzzle, something between a lizard and a tortoise, and with the shell of the latter. It burrows into the ground, as certain of our European species do. The _gaucho_ considers its flesh excellent, declaring that it tastes like pork. Perhaps the surest way of getting the taste of pork is to address oneself to the pig himself, here popularly known as the "creole pig," a lovable little black beast that plays with the children in tiny muddy pools in the neighbourhood of the ranches. Passing by the hare (imported from Europe), the small partridge, and the martinette (_tinamou_), to which I shall return presently, I may mention the plover (abundant) and the birds of carrion, which settle all disputes for the possession of the ground according to the dictates of a boundless appetite, and the small owl, so tame that it rises every few yards with a cheerful cry to come down again a few yards farther on, following all your movements with a questioning eye. At the mouth of its burrow, or on the stake that marks the boundary of the ranch, its pretty form is a feature in the landscape. Finally, I must not forget the _ornevo_, to be found near the _estancias_ and in the woods, a charming, tame little bird, that chatters all the time like a good many people, and builds a mud nest in the branches, in the shape of an oven divided into two apartments, whose tiny door opens always to the north, whence comes the warmth. If you lose yourself in the forest you need no compass but this. The _gauchos_ hold the bird in pious respect. Legend has it that he never works on Sundays at his nest. Here is one who wants no legislation for a _repos hebdomadaire_ any more than he does for the regulation of the liquor sale. Oh, the superiority of our "inferior brethren"! I heard a good deal about the great lakes in which thousands of black-necked swans and rose-pink flamingoes may be seen at play. I was never able to visit these fascinating birds. To make up for this M. Onelli presented me with two handsome black-throated swans, which, however, were not able to stand the climate of Normandy. Having thus sketched the principal features, it remains to fill in the picture of the ranch and _estancia_. I have shown you the primitive cabin of the Robinson Crusoe of the _Campo_. I have drawn a picture of the colonist and the _gaucho_; it is not necessary to go back to him again. I have shown the diverse elements of his existence. The railway has not changed anything in it except by abolishing the interminable rides of earlier days and the tiresome monotony of convoying freight waggons to the town markets. The railway, moreover, brings within reach of the ranch the conveniences of modern furniture. In the huts of the half-castes, near Tucuman, the only piece of furniture I saw was a pair of trestles, on which was laid the mat which served as seat, bed, or table--the kitchen being always outside. In the Pampas, dwellings that look modest, and even less than modest, generally boast an easy-chair, a chest of drawers, with a clock, a sewing-machine, and gramophone, which, when fortune comes, is completed by a piano. The gramophone is the theatre of the Pampas. It brings with it orchestra, song, words, and the whole equipment of "art" suited to the æsthetic sense of its hearers. Thus on all sides dreadful nasal sounds twang out, to the great joy of the youth of the colony. The morals of the _Campo_ are what the conditions of life there have made them. Men who are crowded together in large cities are exposed to many temptations. When too far removed from the restraint of public opinion, the danger is no less great. In all circumstances a witness acts as a curb. In the Pampas as it used to be, the witness, nine times out of ten, became an accomplice. Between the menace of a distant and vague police force and the ever-present fear of the Indian, the _gaucho_ became a soldier of fortune, prepared for any bold stroke. With his dagger in his belt, his gun on his shoulder, and the lasso on his saddle-bow, he rode over the eternal prairie in search of adventures, and ready at any moment for the drama that might be awaiting him. To his other qualities must be added a generous hospitality, that dispensed to all comers his more or less well-gotten goods; he had in him the material for an admirable leader in revolutionary times. I saw no revolutions, and I hope the Argentine has finished with them for ever; but the periodic explosions that have taken place there are not so ancient but that an echo of them reached my ear. I shall leave out of the question, of course, all more remote circumstances that might serve at hazard to put a body of adventurers in motion. You were on the side of General X or General Z, according to the hopes of the party; but, in reality, that had little to do with it. When the signal was once given a military force had to be organised, and the means adopted were admirably simple. Any weapon that could be of use in battle was picked up, and a band would present themselves at the door of an _estancia_. "We are for General X. All the peons here must follow us. To arms! To horse!" And the order would be obeyed; otherwise, the _estancia_ and its herds would suffer. With such a system of recruiting, troops were quickly collected, and a few such visits would suffice to bring together a very respectable force of men. My friend Biessy, the artist, with whom I had the pleasure of making the journey, witnessed just such a scene one day at an _estancia_ which he was visiting. He was chatting with the overseer when the man, hearing a suspicious sound, flung himself down and put his ear to the ground. A moment later he rose, looking anxious. "There are horsemen galloping this way. What can have happened?" And sure enough, a minute later, there appeared a band of men so oddly equipped that at first they were taken for masqueraders. It was carnival time. The leader, however, came forward and called on the overseer to place all his peons at the service of the revolutionaries. Biessy himself only escaped by claiming the rights of a French citizen. And do not imagine that all this was a comedy. The dominant sentiment in their camp was by no means a respect for human life. On both sides these brave peons fought furiously, asking no questions about the party in whose cause they happened to be enrolled. The overseer of a neighbouring _estancia_, who was talking with M. Biessy when called to parley with the revolutionaries, was shot dead a few hours later for having offered resistance to them. If men are thus unceremoniously enrolled--I use the present tense because one never knows what may happen--it may be imagined the horses are borrowed still more freely. A curious thing is that when the war is over, and these creatures are again at liberty, they find their way back quite easily to their own pastures. The overseer of one _estancia_ told me that the last revolution had cost him 600 horses, of which 400, that had been taken to a distance of from 200 to 300 kilometres, returned of their own accord. How they contrive to steer their course over the Pampas, with their inextricable tangle of wire fencing, I do not undertake to explain. When I inquired of the overseer whether it were not possible to steal one of his horses without being discovered, he replied, "Oh, it is like picking an apple in Normandy! It often happens that a traveller on a tired horse lassoes another to continue his journey. But on reaching his destination he sets the animal at liberty, and he invariably makes his way back to the herd." I have already spoken of the time when the _gaucho_ would fell an ox to obtain a steak for lunch. In some of the more remote districts it is possible that the custom still subsists. But it is none the less true that a growing civilisation and the railway, which is its most effectual and rapid instrument, are changing the _gaucho_, together with his surroundings and his sphere of action. The _gaucho_ on foot is very like any other man. His flowing necktie of brilliant colour, once the party signal, has been toned down. His _poncho_, admirably adapted to the climatic conditions of camp life in the _Campo_, is now used by the townsmen, who throw it over their arm or shoulder according to the variations in the temperature. The sombrero, like the slashed breeches or high boots, is no longer distinctive. There remains only the heavy stirrup of romantic design, more or less artistically ornamented, but now often replaced by a simple ring of rope or iron. The days of roystering glamour are passed. The heavy roller of civilisation levels all the elements of modern existence to make way for the utilitarian but inæsthetic triumph of uniformity. Yet a little longer and the life of the _Campo_ will be nothing but a memory, for with his picturesque dress the type itself is disappearing. The modern _gaucho_ has preserved from his ancestors the slowness in speech, the reserved manner, and scrutinising eye of the man who lives on the defensive. But to-day he is thoroughly civilised, and can stroll down Florida Street, in Buenos Ayres, without attracting any attention. It is in vain that the theatre seeks to reproduce the life of the _Campo_, as I saw it attempted at the Apollo. What can it show us beyond the eternal comedy of love, or the absurdities of the wife of the _gaucho_ who has too suddenly acquired a fortune? Both subjects belong to all times and all countries, in the same way as every dance and every song are common to any assembly of young humanity. Long before the gramophone was invented the guitar was the joy of Spanish ears to the farthest confines of the Pampas. Between two outbreaks of civil war, when men were rushing madly to meet death, joyous songs and plaintive refrains alternated beneath the branches of the _ombu_, where the youth of the district met, and the sudden dramas of the ranch made them the more eager to drink deep of the pleasure they knew to be fleeting. They danced the _Pericou_ and the _Tango_, as they still do to-day; but the audacious gestures in which amorous Spain gave expression to the ardour of its feelings have now passed into the domain of history. The "Creole balls," where may be seen graceful young girls in soft white draperies, dancing in a chain that resembles our _Pastourelle_, have been reproduced on postcards and are familiar to all. There are, there will ever be in the Pampas--at least, I fondly hope so--graceful young girls dressed in white and destined to rouse the love instinct which never seems to sleep in an Italian or Spanish breast. But the trouble we take to reconstruct on the stage, for the edification of travellers from Europe, the real _Tango_, in all the antique effrontery of its ingeniousness, proves that the heroic age, made up of the _naïf_ and the barbarous, is fast losing its last vestiges of character in the wilderness of civilised monotony. The _Tango_ is disappearing rapidly. On the other hand, at Rio de Janeiro, in the flower of my seventieth year, I actually figured in the official quadrille of the President of the Republic, to the shame of French choregraphy. Alas! alas! CHAPTER IX FARMING AND SPORT Roman civilisation ended in those _latifundia_ which, amongst other causes, are usually considered to have brought about the ruin of Italy. The immense estates of the Argentine _Campo_ were not built up, however, by the expropriation of small farmers, as was the case in decadent Rome. They are simply the result of wholesale seizure of land at the expense of the savages who were incapable of utilising it. Without discussing the origin of all landed property, or to what extent our legal principles and our practice agree, I simply note the fact that the _conquistadores_ and their descendants set down as _res nullius_ whatever it suited them to appropriate. The principle once established (this is the commencement of every civilisation), there remained only to fix the approximate extent of land likely to satisfy the appetite of the European newcomer. Do you remember a fine story, by Tolstoy, of a man who was given, by I know not what tribe of the steppe, as much land as he could walk round in a day? Once started, the sole idea of the poor wretch was continually to enlarge the circumference. It was only at the price of a tremendous effort that he completed the circle, falling dead at the moment of accomplishing his journey. The first settlers, who followed the Genoese, took probably less trouble, though their greed was as great. But as the land depends for its value on labour, the result for Tolstoy's hero and for the _conquistadores_ was not so very different. Thus, when the first ploughshare turned the first sod, the estate, whatever its proportions, had to bear some relation to human capacity. The large domains of to-day--measuring from two to a hundred square miles--have proceeded from still larger ones, and gradually, as the much-needed labour comes forward to undertake the task, we shall see the further cutting up of preposterous holdings. This is inevitable in the near future, and this alone will render possible scientific farming, which is highly necessary for the development of agriculture. A farmer who knows nothing of manure of any sort, who is making his first experiments in irrigation, and who burns his flax straw for want of knowing how to utilise it, will, for a long time to come, continue to swamp the markets of Europe with his grain and his meat, but only on condition that he is satisfied with small profits and gives quantity in place of quality. These are the conditions of life on the _Campo_, such as I have tried to sketch them. It remains for me to introduce the chief agent in this huge movement of cattle-rearing and agriculture, who, in his own person and that of his overseers, administers the Pampas; he is the owner of the _estancia_, the _estanciero_. The word _estancia_--since it represents something non-existent with us--is not easy to translate. Let us put it down as the most sumptuous form of primitive ownership. I might call it the seat of an agricultural feudalism if the peon were a man to accept serfdom--something resembling a democratic principality, if the two words can be coupled together. When we meet him on the boulevard, the _estanciero_, who talks of his immeasurable estate and his innumerable herds, seems to us a fabulous creature. It is quite another matter to see him on horseback amidst his peons in the Pampas, which, in default of the customary features of private property, appears in its nakedness to be nobody's land--that is to say, everybody's land. The contrast between the _estanciero's_ personal refinement and the English comfort of his family abode, and the primitive rusticity of the surrounding country, suggests the inconsistencies of barbarism undergoing the civilising process. As I have already observed, the results obtained are due to a progression of efforts in which the chief, even if assisted by an overseer, necessarily plays a large part. For although it is easy to dazzle the European with fantastic figures, without sacrificing the truth, it is wise to remember that success is not automatic, and that from the elements alone (to say nothing of locusts) serious difficulties are to be expected. M. Basset, whose competence is beyond question, told me that, having lost money in conducting experiments on a large estate, he decided to sell the place. In the meantime land had gone up in value, and he was able to recover himself on the sale of the unworked plots. "I should have made a lot of money," he concluded, "if I had not farmed any of my land." This shows that in the Argentine, as elsewhere, there are risks to be run. The _estanciero_ takes these risks, but if he were content to wait on chance to enhance the value of his land, he would not contribute as largely as he does to the wealth of the Rue de la Paix. We are always being told that the word dearest to Creole indolence is _mañana_ ("to-morrow"), but the exigencies of economic success tend to modify customs. The Argentino, like the Yankee, is more and more inclined to do over-night the work that might be put off to the morrow. At all events, absenteeism is unknown on the _estancia_, for this would spell ruin at short notice. It is true the _estanciero_ has the reputation of mortgaging freely his estates, and, when a good harvest makes it possible, of hastening to purchase more land so as to increase his output. What can I say, unless that every economic error must be paid for sooner or later, and that in spite of whatever may remain of "Creole indolence," all are forced in the end to seek their profits in an improvement of the system of cultivation? _Grand seigneur_ I called him--a _grand seigneur_ on colonial soil, where his dwelling is a rustic palace that is something between a farmhouse and a mansion. Simple in structure, wood being the principal element, it is built on the ground-floor, colonial fashion. The comforts of English life are reflected in the large rooms, and both furniture and the domestic arrangements are admirable. Large and rich pieces of furniture belong to the days when difficulties of travelling made a provision of the sort indispensable. Large bookcases, filled with heavy volumes, denote a time before the coming of the railway to scatter on the winds leaves from the Tree of Knowledge. Here is every inducement for reflection--paintings, or, rather, pictures; massive plate, goldsmiths' work won as prizes in cattle shows, whose medals fill large frames, to say nothing of photographs of prize beasts. And, better than all the rest, was the hospitality of other times. Now that every one travels without ceasing, the ancient hospitality has lost its savour. There still linger vestiges of it in those countries where civilisation is not advanced enough to protect the traveller from unpleasant contingencies. Let me hasten to add that amongst these one need not count the risk of starvation in an _estancia_. No doubt the abundance of cattle counts for something. In any case, the _estanciero_ is admirable in this respect. I wish I could give unstinted praise to the _upchero_, the _asado_, of which I have already spoken. But I shall not be able to do that until the Argentino has got out of the habit of handing the meat to the cook while it is still warm, for this requires a power of mastication which European debility denies to our jaws. All kitchen-gardens are alike, and you cannot expect to find the pleasure-gardens of an _estancia_ laid out by a Lenôtre. Even if that miracle had been worked, what good would it be when the locusts had passed over it? In one _estancia_, near Buenos Ayres, considered the handsomest in the Argentine, which the kindness of its owner throws open to any foreign visitor, I beheld a park of a thousand hectares, where, amid the groves of tall trees, animals wander, giving the illusion of wildness. The grey ostriches that are there imagine, perhaps, that they are free. We admire some handsome bulls which are stalled here. The eucalyptus, planted sometimes singly and sometimes in broad avenues, towered above us at a height no other tree could rival. In this favoured spot the rich vegetation has nothing to fear from the locusts. Every species grows freely, as it will. For this reason, the overseer, anxious we should miss none of the rare species on which he prides himself, led us, with an air of mystery, to the edge of a low hill, where, with an authoritative gesture, he stopped us before an ordinary-looking tree, destitute of leaves, which had to me a familiar air. "Yes, it is an oak you are looking at. An old European oak in the Argentine. What say you to that?" I admit with prejudice that it is an oak, though at the same time confessing that I have seen others more favourable. And at the risk of being misunderstood, I acknowledge that it is not European flora that most interests me in the Argentine Republic. The special feature of this fine park is the quarter reserved for the bulls. The specimens I saw, which were led past us, are magnificent beasts, bearing witness to methodical and prolonged selection. The best English breeds are gloriously represented, not only in the beasts imported from Europe, but also in Argentine-bred animals, which would do honour to any country. The management and staff of the stables are entirely English. Stallions of world-wide fame are paraded by English stud-grooms that we may admire beauty of line united to beauty of action. Now we were to see the trainers at work, not upon "wild" horses, since they belong to bygone days, but simply upon young animals that have not yet been ridden. As a matter of fact, the problem here is exactly the same as with us, but I venture to think that our system is vastly superior. The colts are collected in an enclosure called the corral. Pray do not conjure up a picture of Mazeppa's steed, with fiery eye and bristling mane, as depicted in the favourite chromo. There is nothing here but ardour of youth and grace of movement. The object is to accustom the horse to man and his needs. This our Norman boys quickly achieve by a mixture of skill and kindness which does not preclude firmness of hand. The system of the Argentine peon is very different. First he catches the neck of the animal in a noose and leads him out of the enclosure to a piece of rough ground. There, with a few movements of the lasso, the limbs are so tied that the simplest movement must make the unfortunate victim lose his balance and bring him heavily to earth at the risk of breaking his bones. The creature is terrified, naturally. Meantime, five or six men run in upon him--each an expert in his own way; and when he is so bound he can no longer move, the bit is adjusted and a sheepskin saddle adroitly buckled. All that now remains is to set the animal on his feet so that the horseman may mount. The rope is then relaxed as swiftly as it was tightened, and the colt, on his four feet, firmly held by the head, his eyes blindfolded, might perhaps get over his fright if his two forefeet were not still tied together by a last knot to prevent him running away. The peon gives the signal, and as the last loop is removed he leaps into the saddle and urges his mount straight ahead with the air of riding a savage brute and with a lavish use of his riding crop. Two horsemen, called "sponsors," accompany him, rending the air with their cries and beating the creature with pitiless crops. By the time he has travelled two hundred yards in this way the horse is mad with terror, and asks nothing better than to be allowed to stop. Perhaps there are exceptions; I did not happen to see them. On the other hand, I did see poor beasts that offered not the slightest resistance, and whose angelic gentleness should have disarmed the executioner. It appears that when this performance has been gone through five or six times the colt surrenders unconditionally. In the days when horses were wild upon the prairies these practices might have had some excuse. Nowadays we have different ideas. All these branches of work require, as may be supposed, a fairly complete set of buildings. Consequently, around the farmer's house there are outbuildings of every style of architecture which make the _estancia_ a sort of small village, whence radiates the work undertaken on the Pampas. Thus ordered and thus spent, life in the fields is a "solitude" broken every moment by great herds and _gauchos_ ever on the march. It has nothing to daunt even a man who is anxious not to lose touch with his fellow-creatures in these days of extreme civilisation. Therefore it is not surprising that a stay of some months at the _estancia_ forms an agreeable part of the programme which the daily life of the Argentine landholder forces on all his family. The railway is never far off, since it brings colonists and is responsible for the whole agricultural movement. Railway construction proceeds at the normal rate of about five hundred kilometres per annum. The provinces of Buenos Ayres, of Cordoba, of Santa Fé, which alone furnish eighty per cent. of the agricultural exports, are naturally the most favoured; and also, naturally, it is on the Pampas, the immense reservoir of fertilising energy, that is concentrated the maximum of labour for the extension of the means of communication that are so swiftly and richly remunerative. Thus it is not too difficult to move about in the _Campo_. Moreover, the motor-car--running now on a road, now on the great green carpet where movable gates provide a passage through the wire fencing--facilitates a pleasant interchange of neighbourly relations. I have said that absenteeism is unknown in the _estancia_. Often the head of the family, when kept for some reason in the city, confides the management of the estate to one of his sons, who in this way turns to magnificent account the grand energy of youth and manhood in intensely interesting work. What more natural than for the family to gather in the fine summer months beneath the shade of the farms, amid its herds so full of life, to enjoy the beauty of the harvest ripened with the warm kisses of the sun? The rides are unending beneath the pure sky of the long mornings, in the strengthening breeze which sets the blood coursing through the pulses with renewed force. In Brazil I heard people pity the Argentinos because they lacked the resource of the mountains in the great heat of summer. The Andes are, indeed, too far distant even with the railway that now crosses them. (The Transandine line is now working between the Argentine and Chile--forty hours' run from Buenos Ayres to Valparaiso or Santiago.) But the costly pleasures of a sojourn at Mar del Plata are quickly exhausted. The _estancia_ offers a beautiful retreat of active and fruitful peace. There are visits to the farmers who, little by little, are coming to reside on the domain of the _estancia_ (purchasing the ground originally taken on lease, and grouping themselves in such-wise that villages are in process of formation), or the continual inspection of the herds (_rodeo_). Another occupation is watching over the harvest which spreads across the Pampas. There are daily pretexts for trips that combine pleasure with usefulness. The tall ricks grow in numbers, the grain falls to the snorting measure of smoking engines, the lean native cattle of the Pampas yield their place to monstrous Durhams, to Herefords, with their handsome white heads, to Percherons, to Boulonnais, to Lincoln sheep, with their heavy fleeces. It is by no means certain that the amusements of Trouville or Vichy are superior to those of the _estancia_. We may be allowed to think that the "gentleman-farmer" has chosen the better part. I have said nothing of game-shooting. We must admit that in this respect the resources of the Pampas are greater than those of France. Hares and partridges are on the programme, as they are with us. M. Py told me he had tried to acclimatise the quail--in vain. Some thousands of birds were let loose in a selected part of the Pampas and disappeared for good. The history of the hare is very different. About fifty years ago some Germans liberated a few couples at various points of the Pampas, and the same animal which at home produces only one or two young each year began to swarm like the rabbit. Several families every year--and what families! The result, disastrous for farming, is that from eighty to a hundred hares may be reckoned to every hectare, and you cannot walk on the Pampas without perceiving a pair of long ears that spring up out of the grass every moment. The flesh has a poor reputation, perhaps for the reason that here they neglect that elementary operation which follows immediately on the death of the animal in our country. The partridge, smaller than ours, is a solitary creature. Its flesh is white and rather insipid. The martinette (_tinamou_), a sort of intermediary between the partridge and the pheasant, is the best of the Pampas game. One may hunt it without turning to right or to left--certain always of not returning with empty hands. The favourite amusement is the _rabat_, or the "rope," and shooting from the motor-car. For the _rabat_ horsemen are needed. A dozen or two of peons ride off at a gallop in no matter what direction, since the game is everywhere, to meet at a point out of sight and return at the top of their speed to the sportsmen. Then, long before you hear their shouts or see their outlines on the horizon, there suddenly appears along the uncertain line at which earth and sky meet a swarm of creatures which rush and cross each other in every direction. Whether the mass is near or far off it is impossible to say, since there are no objects to measure by. If far, all these black spots on the luminous background may be horns. To our inexperienced eye they give the illusion of a herd of oxen. Then suddenly the truth becomes manifest. You have before you some hundreds of hares, which will quickly be within gunshot. But the animal is sharp to discern the danger, and, in less time than it takes to write it, the troop that was heading in a mass straight for the line of fire melts away until only the foolish ones at the back are left to continue their course with the acquired momentum. In this way the carnage, which promised to be terrible, resolves itself into ten or twelve more or less lucky shots apiece. This is inevitable, since the wire fence which effectually stops horses and cattle is powerless against running game. The day when the destruction of the hare is decided upon, which is certainly desirable, it will only be necessary to fence in three sides of an enclosure and drive the game towards the opening. In the present state of affairs the mere sight of three or four hundred hares running straight towards the guns, even though they make a right-about turn just in time, is an entertainment much appreciated by Europeans. Shooting _à la corde_ has a different aspect. The mounted peons form up to make a line of beaters a hundred yards apart. But, unlike our own _battues_, the beater precedes the shooter, instead of walking towards him. The reason is that every peon is attached to his comrade to right and to left by a rope of twisted wires, which sweeps the ground and puts up every living creature to the guns, which follow behind at the pace of a horse's walk. The hare does not wait till the rope reaches him. Often he gets away out of reach. But there is such an abundance of game that none misses the animal that may escape. The important point is for the peons to keep well in line, else huntsmen and horsemen are likely to get a charge of lead. At the Eldorado, M. Villanueva's place, this happened twice or three times in the same day. The partridge (always flying singly) and the martinette are never weary of marking time. They run before one without haste, and apparently determined not to fly away. It occasionally happens that a sportsman tires of his game and wants to end it. Several times I left the line of guns and ran upon the enemy, which, without any excitement, still kept its distance and never gave its pursuer the satisfaction of seeing it even hasten its step. You look around for a stone, a bit of wood, or a lump of earth, which should have the effect of driving off the creature. On the Pampas is neither pebble, nor stick, nor clod of earth. You have no resource but to swear and make violent gestures that have no effect at all. The martinette, too, has a way of glancing sideways at you which expresses a profound contempt for the entire human race. All generous minds are sensitive to rudeness and feel a just vexation when thus treated. The rapid chase is the more painful that you have very soon before you several martinettes and as many partridges which fly backwards and forwards, leaving you in doubt at which to point your weapon, while, at the same time, you know that in leaving the line of fire you expose yourself to all the guns which may be tempted, by fur or feather, to aim in your direction. There is only one way out of this critical situation that I know of. It is to fling your cap at the running bird. He will fly off then and keep his distance. The victory would be yours afterwards were it not that the chase under a sun that would seem hot even in summer has left you out of breath. To take aim while struggling for breath is to risk missing the bird. Happily, both partridge and martinette have a straight, low, and heavy flight, which permits you to return to the _estancia_ without dishonour. Such are the peripatetics of this amusing form of sport, in which, all along the line, firing is incessant. The steady walk of the guns is only checked by the rope getting caught occasionally on some tuft of grass, or by an encounter, not at all rare, with the carcass of horse or ox in process of decomposition. Having left on his own initiative, he at least escapes from man's ferocity. You pass without even having to hold your nose, so thoroughly does the strong, purifying air of the Pampas carry away in its boundless currents every germ that cannot be returned to the soil to perform the eternal labour of fertilisation. On all sides the last vestiges of clean and fretted bones tell us how lives now ended are taking on new forms of life, and in the gentle murmur of the grass that bends to the breeze the huge white skeletons that brave the blue of heaven have all the eloquence of philosophy in their tale of the supreme defeat of living matter beneath the irresistible triumph of fatality. With no other break in the horizon but the distant _ombu_, a group of _paraisos_, a ranch, or travelling herd, the murderous band pursues its way. The walking is good, and the motor-car, which follows slowly in the rear, is at hand to pick up the weary sportsman. But before that point is reached one is tempted to cast off, little by little, articles of clothing which rapidly become a burden under the sun's rays. A shirt and trousers are already much. Even so, a rest becomes necessary, and those who have any acquaintance with M. Villanueva will guess that there was present a cart laden with refreshments. Halts like these, in the precious shade of the car, are not without charm, if you have taken the wise precaution to put on something warm. When the incidents of the day have been thoroughly discussed the chase is resumed, but if you are really done up do not imagine your fun is over. The auto will take your place in the line of march behind the rope of peons, and, apart from the game of running after martinettes, nothing is changed. The endless prairie is so truly a billiard-table of turf that not a jolt need be felt, and, after a few attempts, one gets the knack of firing from the car with a good average of successful shots. The hare suffers most; martinette and partridge get off more easily. It must be admitted that the experienced chauffeur is a powerful auxiliary. In any case, if you are shooting the less brilliant, the pleasure of sport in repose, varied by all sorts of unforeseen circumstances, more than compensates for the misses and lends a flavour to the sport that is lacking in European shooting parties. Better still--the day is slowly dying: soon the party will break up, but the shooting will go on all the same. The silent peons come up to say good-night. Dumbly, with courteous gestures, final greetings are exchanged, and then the order is given to set the helm for Eldorado. But there is still light enough to see by. So here we are zigzagging across the Pampas in complicated turns and twists, as one spot or another appears more favourable for game. And the slaughter is terrific, for hares abound. Martinette and partridge, with their dark plumage, have nothing to fear from us now. In the faint light of the setting sun the hare makes still an admirable target, and plover and falcon offer supplementary diversions. The gay little owl alone finds grace with the guns. And when the "dark light" of the poet left us no resource but to shoot at each other, pity or perhaps fear of the last agony sufficed to make us hold our hand. The gentle horned beasts moved out of our way, fixing on us their stupidly soft eyes, and leaving us wholly remorseless, while in the freshening breeze and empty blackness of sky and land we burst in upon the lights of hospitable Eldorado. This simple tale of a day's sport in the Pampas has no other merit than that of being strictly accurate. The Argentinos might very well content themselves with the pleasures they have ready to their hand at all seasons of the year, for in these regions, half-way between barbarism and civilisation, the gamekeeper is unknown. But man can never be content with what is offered to him. Therefore the wealthy _estanciero_ takes infinite trouble to get thousands of pheasants sent out to him from our coverts, so that he may breed them in his preserves. In districts that are not menaced by the locusts the birds will be let loose shortly in the woods, and the Argentine will then pride herself on shooting such as that of Saint-Germain. It is because of this approaching change that I have set down these impressions of a day's sport in conditions which will soon belong to a vanished age. CHAPTER X ROSARIO AND TUCUMAN The traveller with only a few weeks at his disposal in this immense country of overflowing activity cannot pretend to make a very profound and detailed study of it. I am here setting down only those things that I saw, but, at the same time, I endeavour to show their significance, and to give some idea of their social import, while leaving my readers to judge for themselves. It is, of course, the subjective method, and is full of pitfalls, but it is, also, useful inasmuch as it sheds much light on the subject if used with discrimination. My friend Jules Huret, who has been inspired to reveal to the criminally incurious French public certain countries which they persistently ignore, takes all the time he needs to collect a voluminous amount of material, which he then proceeds to place before his readers in accordance with the strictest canons of the objective method. We know how successful he was with North America and Germany. He has marshalled before us so orderly a procession of men and things, that to my mind he has defeated his object, and left us no inducement to undertake the journey for ourselves and to obtain first-hand impressions by the direct contact which is worth all the books in the world. Huret is now publishing in the _Figaro_ the result of a year's close study of the Argentine. He has taught and will still teach me much, no doubt, and I strongly recommend every one to read his admirable work. But in their way I still venture to claim for my unpretentious notes the virtue of creating in my readers a desire for further information, for the simple reason that they will assuredly want to test my views in the light of their own experience. Humanity, nowadays, is moving at high speed, and the chief interest that most men attach to each day's events is the opportunities they may afford for to-morrow's energy. But the real value of the "event of the moment," to which the Press attributes more and more importance, lies in the revelation it may bring of those general laws that we must all understand. Hence the living appeal made by cursory reflections, irrespective of what may be the verdict of the future thereupon, since our "truths" of to-day can never be more than successive eliminations of errors. These generalities are intended to explain the spirit in which I prepared to leave Buenos Ayres, and drew up an itinerary that was necessarily curtailed by the limited time that remained to me. I had been told: "At Cordoba you will find a city of monks; Mendoza affords a charming picture of fine watercourses lined with poplars, vines in profusion, and a remarkable equipment for the wine industry; at Tucuman, there are fields of sugar-cane with dependent refineries and, also, the beginnings of an extensive forest." With irrigation-works, poplars, vines, monks even, I was already familiar: so without hesitation I headed for Tucuman, with a brief halt at Rosario, the second city of the Argentine Republic. In its external aspect Rosario de Santa Fé differs but little from Buenos Ayres. There is the same florid architecture, the same desire to do things on a large scale, the same busy spirit, though naturally on a smaller scale. Rosario exists by reason of its port, which commands the Parana. The prodigious extension of the town is due to the building of numerous railway lines, which have produced an enormous development of agriculture in the provinces of Santa Fé, Cordoba, and Santiago del Estero. The cereals grown in these provinces, representing one half the total exported by the Argentine, are carried by these railways, whilst the Parana furnishes a waterway several thousands of kilometres in length for coasting vessels on the upper river and from Paraguay as far as the mouth of the Rio. A volume might be written of its docks, built by a French firm under the management of M. Flandrin, a compatriot and native of my own Vendean village. There is a peculiar charm about meetings of the sort. A journey of many days has brought you to the unknown land, where, with the help of some imagination, any strange event is possible. After sundry adventures, the curtain rises, and the first face that meets your eye, the first voice you hear, belong to your native place. Names, scenes, and memories rush in upon the mind with a train of unexpected impressions and emotions. To think I had come all this way to be confronted with that special spot of earth to which through all travels and all life's changes we remain so firmly bound! Far away in the distant Brazilian mountains, I met a charming Vendean woman, whose tongue had kept that accent of the _langue d'oil_ which belonged to Rabelais. When Sancho, from the height of his waggon, beheld the earth no larger than a grain of millet, his sense of proportion was truer than ours. Only, instead of being so many hazel-nuts upon the millet, as Sancho thought, men are, in reality, merely imperceptible particles in a restricted space, bound to collide at the least movement. My philosophy did not prevent my feeling great pleasure at meeting M. Flandrin, who is as unpretentious as he is kind, and who is a credit to his native land. We made a tour of inspection of the docks, and the inevitable trip by boat round the harbour. All I can say of the port thus hastily seen and already described in many technical publications is that, in spite of tremendous natural difficulties, it has been satisfactorily accomplished, thanks to the tenacity of the engineers and the admirable method adopted.[29] Moored alongside the quays were a number of English and German cargo-boats (amongst which, I saw but one French, alas!) taking in grain at the rate of 800 tons per hour. The docks were begun in 1902. They were designed to cope with an average tonnage of 2,500,000, and it was at that time believed impossible to attain that figure before some thirty years at least. By 1909, however, it had been reached and passed, and a contract for their enlargement was immediately given to a French firm. Under these conditions, it is easy to understand how a town numbering 23,000 inhabitants in 1869 should, in 1910, contain nearly 200,000. This, also, explains a rivalry that exists between the second city of the Republic and Santa Fé, the historic capital of the province. Rosario complains, with some show of reason, that the enormous fiscal contribution paid by her to the national exchequer does not procure for her the advantages to which her population entitles her. The deplorable deficiency of schools in Rosario is more especially a subject of loud recrimination. I cannot but think that this claim will be before long admitted. As for the æsthetic future of the city, I can say nothing. When I saw it, it was disfigured in every direction by extensive road-making operations, thanks to which there will, in all probability, be open spaces enough, one day, to arouse the admiration of visitors. An excellent and modern hotel seems a good augury for the future. As usual, the welcome I received far exceeded anything I could have expected. But the municipal improvements scheme had occasioned a fever of speculation in land values, and the one subject of conversation was the fabulous fortunes to be realised in this way--so much so, indeed, that I was strongly tempted to spend a few _sous_ on a plot of land which by now or a little later perhaps might be worth a hundred millions. If Rosario has made a fortune out of the incredible increase of its corn harvests, it must not be supposed that cattle-rearing is neglected in the province of Santa Fé. By a fortunate coincidence, I arrived on the day of the opening of the great annual Cattle Show. The President of the Agricultural Society happens to be one of the most distinguished politicians, not only of the province but of the Republic, and, by his kindness, I was able to glean much information on general topics, and, at the same time, inspect some samples of agricultural produce that would not have been out of place in the first of our European shows. The surrounding provinces, including that of Buenos Ayres, had sent up some of their finest specimens of horses and horned cattle. As usual, there was a superabundance of British breeds to be seen; but our Norman horses were well represented, too. To tell the truth, the dual capacity of my guide, who was no less eminent as statesman than as cattle-breeder, caused politics to somewhat overshadow agriculture in our talk, and I found out that Señor Lisenadro de la Torre was the leader of a party that is aiming at the overthrow of the Cabinet now in power, whose majority, he informed me, was based on those very administrative abuses that I had already noted. The tendency is to use and even abuse authority to coerce the electors, who are unorganised for the defence of the public interests against private ambitions,[30] "an evil that spreads terror," as may truly be said, and one of which Rosario does not hold a monopoly. On this theme the clear-headed politician, with his concise manner of speech and decided tones, gave me a rapid sketch of the situation by a brief examination of the enemy's country. And I rejoiced to see that abuses common, more or less, in all old countries, and whose remedy lies only in private endeavour, have in this new community of the Argentine provoked the same keen intelligence and determination as others which I noted. Under whatever form of government, the worth of a country lies in its men--that is, in its sum total of disinterested activity. A race that can show the development of intelligence and character that have so struck me in the course of this journey can afford to await with tranquil courage the solutions of the future. As it is my desire to leave no dark corners unexplored, I must make a reference to the strange hints of revolution that I heard at Rosario and, later, at Tucuman. "A certain military leader would be displeased if full satisfaction were not given him. There was every reason to fear a movement. Dispatches from the Government recommended a careful guard over rifle magazines," etc. I was, however, pretty soon convinced that all these rumours were but the expiring echo of a bygone condition with very little foundation in actual fact. Here in Rosario we are not far removed from the life of Buenos Ayres. To-day the distance from one city to the other (300 kilometres) can be covered in five hours. The last part of the journey, which terminates at Tucuman (1100 kilometres from the capital), gives us the impression of a complete change of country. At daybreak, in full sunshine, the first discovery I made was that we were travelling through a cloud of dust that entirely concealed the landscape. With a kindness for which I can never be sufficiently grateful the President of the Republic, Señor Figueroa Alcorta, had lent me his own coach for the journey. I slept in an excellent bed, with windows carefully closed and blinds drawn. But the Argentine dust knows no obstacles. For this reason the prophecy in the Book that we shall all return to dust seems to me already fulfilled. My beautiful bedroom, my luxurious dressing-room, with its welcome douche, my clothes, my luggage, and my person, all were wrapped in a thick veil of fine red dust, ugly in appearance and dangerous to respiration. Yes, while I was sleeping in all confidence, the imperious dust had taken possession of train, passengers, and all that was visible to their dust-filled eyes. The stations: merely a stack of red dust; man: a vermilion-coloured walking pillar; the horseman, or vehicle: a whirlwind of dust. Horror! to my wrath a beautiful white shirt was discovered blushing rosy as a young girl surprised. I washed with red soap and dried with red towels my carmine-coloured face. Here is the explanation of the complexion of the Indian! Tucuman is in sight--Tucuman, the land of Cacombo, the faithful servant of Candide. None can have forgotten that the Governor of Buenos Ayres, moved by the beauty of the lovely Cunégonde, was on the point of despatching Candide when he was saved by Cacombo. But what follows marks the difference between Candide's times and our own, for Candide and Cacombo in their flight paused in "a beautiful meadow traversed by streams of water," where befell the double adventure of the monkeys and the mumps, whereas for us meadow, rivulets, monkeys, and mumps all resolve themselves into universal dust. I strain my eyes to discern some features of the country: a dismantled forest is dying in the dust; some lean cattle are grazing, on clay apparently; enormous cactuses, like trees; flocks of small white birds with pink beaks, known as "widows" (_viudas_); and, from time to time, the beauty of a flight of cackling parrots, making in the sunlight flashes of emerald in the dusty air. The _Marseillaise_! the Tricolor! the Governor, the French colony!--this is Tucuman's reception of me. Handshakes, salutes, welcoming words with affectionate references to the distant fatherland. An admirable official motor-car, but execrable roads where the best of _pneus_ finds so many obstacles to jump that it becomes quite dizzy, as is shown by its continued stagger. The first impression given by Tucuman after the jolting and shaking of the road is that of a colonial land. Everywhere the "half-house," hastily put up, but rendered charming by its _patio_, and comfortable by the disposition of its rooms to take advantage of the shade. The Indian half-caste is king in Tucuman, "the Garden of the Republic," whose women, they say, are more beautiful than flowers. Everywhere, in fact, one sees bronzed faces in which two impassive black eyes shine with the brilliance of the diamond. A long, lingering glance which says, I know not what, but something that is totally un-European. Simplicity, dignity, with few words, slow gestures, an imposing harmony of bearing. I know not whether one day the dominant race will succeed in modifying or effacing the native traits. At present, nothing seems to touch the indelible imprint of American blood. A few of the women are very handsome. The French colony in Tucuman is larger than I thought. I shall see it when I return from Santa Ana, where I am going to visit M. Hilleret's manor. As we pass, I notice broad avenues well laid out: the Place de l'Indépendance, on which there stands the statue of General Belgrano, in remembrance of the battle of Tucuman (1812), and the new palace of the Governor, which is impressive. From sixty to eighty thousand inhabitants. The town very commercial. The country broken, with high mountains. Fertile plain suitable for growing sugar-cane, tobacco, oranges, and the most beautiful flowers. Large and noble forests that are being ruthlessly devastated to supply fuel for factory furnaces. Uninterrupted cane-raising all the way to Santa Ana, where M. Hilleret, who came to the Argentine as a labourer on the railway, set up a sugar factory,[31] thanks to which--and to Protection--he was able, at his death, to leave a fortune of a hundred millions. We were magnificently received in a hospitable mansion that betrayed the taste of a Parisian architect.[32] A park and garden bearing traces of a recent attack from locusts. Specially beautiful were the tufts of bamboo, and the false cotton plants with their big balls of white down, amid which a tiny grey dove cooed softly like a wailing child. What can I say of the factory that has not already been said? It is admirably managed. The cane is automatically flung on a slope down which it drops beneath heavy rollers. Two thousand workmen are employed, half-castes for the most part--a few are pure Indians,--and a small number of French foremen. There is a picturesque scene in the town of a morning, when troops of women, old and young, followed by a procession of children, come to market and fill their wooden or earthenware bowls with provisions, balancing them on their heads; their parti-coloured rags, gaily patched, add a piquant touch to the faces, whose firm lines seem set in bronze, all vitality and expression being concentrated in the dark fire of their eyes. The workmen's quarters are indescribable slums. On both sides of a wide avenue there are rows of tiny low houses from which the most rudimentary notions of hygiene or of comfort are, apparently, carefully banished--dens rather than dwellings, to speak accurately, so destitute are they of furniture. Women and old men sit immovable in the dust, the _bombilla_ between their lips, in an ecstasy of _maté_. Children moving about on all fours are scarcely distinguishable from the little pigs which are grubbing in the rubbish-heaps. Ineffable smells issue from boiling cauldrons and stewpans, whilst in the darkness of the doorway the nobly draped figure of the guardian of the hearth stands, speechless and motionless, surveying the scene. According to European ideas, these folk are wretched indeed. Yet the climate renders existence easy and they appear to find quiet pleasure in it. We may be permitted to imagine for them a happier future and higher stage of civilisation, which they will achieve when they draw a larger share of remuneration from the monument of labour their hands have helped to put up. Laws for the protection of labour are unknown in the Argentine, which is explained by the backwardness of industry there. Although life beneath this beautiful sky must undoubtedly offer many conveniences, and although the mill-owners whom I met seemed to me both humanely and generously inclined, factories such as those I visited can scarcely exist much longer without the labour question being brought before the legislators. Members of Parliament with whom I discussed the point appeared favourably disposed, though inclined to defer remedies indefinitely. The fields of sugar-cane can be visited without fatigue by train. We passed teams of six or nine mules--up to their knees in dust--on their way to the factory with loads of cane grown at a distance from the railway. The drivers, sitting postilion-wise on their leaders, raised their whips with threatening cries that made the lash unnecessary. But who could have imagined that it took so much dust to manufacture sugar! Out in the fields the peons, armed with the long knife that is always stuck in the back of their belts, cut the cane and with two dexterous turns of the blade divide it into lengths for the presses, leaving the foliage and part of the stalk for the cattle. At the wayside station there were five or six dilapidated cabins, in which the numerous progeny of the cane-cutters seemed to be thriving. In appearance they formed a temporary encampment, nothing more. The huts are made out of odds and ends picked up at haphazard, and follow a simple principle of architecture which requires a space of some twenty or thirty centimetres between the floor and the palisade--for it can scarcely be called a wall--to insure a circulation of air. Thus, one could, at a pinch, sleep in the place without arousing the smallest envy in the four-footed beasts that are happily slumbering under the starry heavens. Children, pigs, and donkeys live together in friendly promiscuity. Women, bearing in their arms their latest-born, appear on their threshold dumbfounded, apparently, at the sight of strangers. In my own language, I ask one of them for permission to glance at the interior of her hut. She stands aside, and I look in, not venturing more than a single step. The only attempt at furniture is planks laid across trestles, with rags of clothing (incredibly dirty) doing duty for mattress or blanket. A movable stove adapted to open-air cooking, and four stakes in the earth, on which are laid bits of anything that comes handy, with tree trunks for seats--this constitutes a rough-and-ready dining-room. Scattered about on the ground are different utensils for the use of man and beast. Then a commotion. A naked baby, who is sucking a sugar-cane, suddenly sees its treasure carried off by a lively little black pig. A fight and loud screams. Biped and quadruped come to blows, and the effect of excitement on the dormant functions of infant life is such that it is the child who succeeds in worsting the pig. The latter noisily protests. Then, there being no such thing as Justice on earth, it is the child who is carried off and set on the heap of rags whose odorous dampness will at nightfall soothe its sleep. M. Edmond Hilleret, the eldest son of the founder of the factory of Santa Ana, had invited us to a tapir-hunt. To camp out in the forest for three days did not in the least daunt us, but a member of the Society for the Protection of Animals having urged upon me the shamefulness of letting dogs loose upon so inoffensive a beast, and Providence, with the same intention probably, having smitten our hunter-in-chief with appendicitis, followed by an operation, our shooting was directed humbly against the parrots. I speak for my companions; as for my own part, I announced the most pacific intentions towards the birds of the forest. Peons on horseback and light carts start off in an ocean of dust. The only way is to get in front of the procession and leave to your friends the duty of swallowing your dust. As a lack of altruism on the part of my comrades had inflicted this experience on me as we went, I took care to return the compliment on the way back. The forest, which belongs to the factory, is generally denominated "virgin" for the sake of effect. But my regard for truth compels me to state that it was not even _demi-vierge_, for there are herds grazing in the clearings, peons keeping watch, and woodcutters and colonists unceasingly busy dragging away its veils with a brutality that is never slaked. Such as it is, however, with its inextricable wildnesses, through which only the axe can clear a way, with its tall, flowering groves, its ancient trees covered with a luxuriant parasite growth that flings downwards to earth and upwards to heaven its showers of lovely colour, it is marvellously beautiful. The wonder of it is this haze of parasites, so varied in species, in colour, and in growth, with their invincible determination to live at all costs, which wrap the giant tree from root to highest twig in a monstrous profusion of new forms of life. The dead branch on which we trample has preserved, even in decomposition, the frail yet tenacious creeper whose blossoms had crowned it high aloft. The tree is no longer a tree: it is a Laocoön twisted in a fury of rage beneath the onslaught of an ocean of lives whose torrents recognise no barriers. Whichever way one looks, hairy monsters are agonising in despairing contortions, victims of a drama of dumb violence; and the spectacle conveys a keen realisation of the eternal struggle for life that is going on all around us, from the summits of these verdant heights to the subterranean depths whence issues this living force. And, as episodes in the universal tragedy, the brilliant colouring of lovely birds lights up the gloomy enchantment of the silent tumult of anguished lives whose effort after mastery can only end in death. Having not yet learnt to know man's baseness, the royal magpies of Paraguay, with their startling plumage, pause on the branches close beside our path to gaze on us in, perhaps, the same astonishment as we on them. But already in the great clearing shots resound, betokening the salute of the first arrivals to the denizens of the forest. Now, my parrot friends, make for the fields as fast as you can, out of reach of the horde of enemies! But it is precisely these clearings that the parrot loves, for here he, like us, can satisfy his appetite. When his tribe descends upon an orchard, good-bye to the fruit harvest. We were in a vast clearing, inhabited by a small colony of farmers, whose huts are built along a rivulet on the slope of a meadow. Here are fields of maize covered with dead stalks. The cattle wander freely where they will. In an orchard stands an orange-tree, the tallest I have seen, full of golden balls. Hard by a well, on a wooden post, there sits a green parrot, with red poll, his plumage ruffled, his eye full of contempt for the human race. Attracted by the noise, two women come out from a dark hut. Gossips probably, though what they can find to talk about in such a spot it would be hard to guess. One of them attracts attention by the beauty of her form, the nobility of her pose, and the warm, coppery tint of her face. She is a Creole equally removed from the two races. Her thick hair, intensely black, falls in a plait upon her shoulders. Instinctively she has twisted pink ribbon--found, probably, in a box of biscuits--in her hair, where it makes a line of light in the night of her tresses. Erect in the simplicity of the semi-savage, without a word, without the least acknowledgment of our presence, and without a trace of embarrassment or affectation, she stands looking at us, desiring, apparently, no better occupation. Her features are regular and delicate, according to the canons of European æsthetics. Two or three pock-marks make a startling patch. All the soul of the native race is visible in the dark light of her eyes, heavy with feelings that belong to an epoch too primitive to be comprehended, even dimly, by our aged and vulgar civilisation. That surprising pink ribbon and the shyness--like remorse for some unknown crime--expressed through the ingenuous and compelling eyes, are probably the secret of her charm. Whatever it springs from, the effect is the same. Whether girl or woman it would be hard to tell. This uncertainty often gives its brilliance to feminine power. I tear myself from contemplation of the lady and wander into the forest in the wake of the chattering birds, carrying with me, by way of viaticum, an orange whose freshness and perfume have left me a souvenir no less delicious than that of the charm of the young beauty. I was slowly returning to the glaring sunshine of the clearing, absorbed in admiration of a flight of bright-plumaged parrots, when a vexatious gunshot brought me back to the realities of our sinful race. One of our party had concealed himself among the brushwood at the foot of the tree in which the birds were holding their parliament. The danger of the institution was instantly apparent, for five birds fell to the murderous lead. I still hold with parliaments, however, and with parrots which debate in the branches. I know not what they find to talk about, but, judged by the criterion of noise adopted at home, it must be of great importance. When we teach them to speak our language, I am aware they utter the words but attach no meaning to them. I have known humans to do the same without the birds' excuse. Moreover, a very remarkable trait in the parrot's character is that he is altruistic in the last degree, and will face any danger to assist a friend in distress by voice and gesture. When one is wounded, the rest, who have at first flown off in alarm, return with loud cries to the scene, abusing the sportsman and calling on deaf gods for justice. If further volleys make fresh victims, the flock will not give up its work of pity, thus exposing themselves to further slaughter. All this is to explain how it was that, on my return to the place I started from, I saw on the ground a beautiful green parrot with a crimson head, lying now in the stillness of death, while two or three of his friends limped and fluttered round him, hurling maledictions at the human race. I fear they all figured later on the supper-table of the colony. The young woman with the pink ribbon, for whom the scene probably offered nothing new, stood and gazed at us as if we were the curiosity of the moment. One of the wounded birds had climbed a stump beside her, and, without any preliminaries, had nestled up against her like a child. The woman took no notice. Her questioning eyes seemed to be seeking forms in which to clothe her thoughts, but her tongue could give no assistance. I, too, would have liked to speak to her, to learn something of her story, of her notions about the world, and the ideas that influenced her actions. But I knew of no signs in which to clothe such questions, and not a word of either Spanish or _Guarani_ (the name of a small tribe now applied to the relics of their language, which is that of the natives). With a rhythmic walk she returned to her hut, emerging once more to join our circle, with a tiny grey parrot perched on her shoulder, by way, perhaps, of a conversational opening. The bird, fluttering its wings, stepped down as far as her fingers, which were slim and coloured as though with henna, and I ventured to tease him. The long, red hand came slowly forward, accompanying the movements of the bird, without a shadow of a smile on her impassive face; and so, the time for our departure having come, we parted for ever with all our questions unasked. On the following day we drove to the _Salto_, another clearing in the forest, enlivened by a waterfall. We fired at some hawks that we took for eagles. Large blue birds flew mocking above our heads, and our hunters ended by shooting at imaginary fish. They thought a walk in the forest absurd, so whilst I and two comrades ventured a little way, they chose the most natural occupation in the world for men who have come from the ends of the earth to see an almost virgin forest, and made up a game of poker. Oh, the joys of modern travelling, undreamed of by the early explorers! Meantime, I wandered straight before me through the woods, at the risk of losing my way. Once I thought I was going to know the pleasures, which are not unmixed, of being hopelessly lost. Already I saw myself reduced to the necessity of hunting for an _ornero's_ nest, the opening of which is always in the north side; but one of the party pointed out a line of bluish-grey lichen on every tree-trunk, which indicated clearly, without the help of the birds, from which direction blows the north--naturally the warm--wind. Finally, by way of putting a finishing touch to my education, he assumed that I was thirsty, and leading me to a creeper growing parasitically on a large branch at the height of a man above the ground, he dexterously inserted his knife into the joint of the leaves, and there burst forth a jet of water slightly aromatic in taste, like the fine juice of some grass. The traveller's sherbet! A few minutes later we came upon a peon mounted on his mule, who, more surely than either bird or lichen, set us on the right path. The first sugar factory founded by M. Hilleret was at Lulès. There we found a fine forest, wilder still than that of Santa Ana, with gorgeous great trees bearing bouquets of flowers, some white, some pale violet, and some pink. Fine gardens, and a park where, under the management of a French gardener, every fruit-tree of the subtropical zone may be found, from the banana and coffee-plant to the mango and _chirimaya_, beside a thousand other strangely named growths better calculated to surprise the eyes than charm the palate. Of an evening there was dancing in the garden. Though national in character, dancing here is much what it is elsewhere, since there is but one way to move the arms and legs. The most striking part of the picture was the attitude of the dancers when resting. In our countries these assemblies of young people would have been the excuse for jokes and laughter, often, probably, carried to a riotous excess. Here the immovable gravity of the native does not lend itself to merriment. Young men and young women exchange, now and then, a few words uttered in a low voice with the utmost composure. On the invitation of her partner, the young girl rises in exactly the same way that she would move to perform some household duty, and goes through the rites of the dance with its rhythmic measures without the vestige of a smile or a ripple of gaiety on her expressionless face. It is not, however, for lack of enjoyment, for no opportunity is missed of dancing, and the balls are prolonged indefinitely into the night. We must only see in this deportment a conception of dignity and of conduct that is not our own. On my return to Tucuman a great reception was given by the French colony in my honour. I went to call--as, indeed, it behoved me--at the House of Independence, more modest but no less glorious than that of Philadelphia. It was here that the first national Congress was held, and here that the Oath of Independence was taken (July 9, 1816). In order to preserve the humble house, now an object of public veneration, it has been built into a large edifice, which will preserve it from decay in the future. There is no decoration--some commemorative tablets only--but it is enough. When the heart responds readily to the call of duty, an unobtrusive reminder is all that is necessary. I was infinitely touched by the grandiose reception given me by the French colony. In a fine theatre, which is their own property, the Frenchmen of Tucuman extended the warmest of welcomes to their fellow-countryman. I found a surprise in store for me. It was arranged that I should lay the foundation-stone of the new French school of Tucuman, and, if I am to believe the inscription on the silver trowel that remains in my possession, given me for the purpose of spreading the cement, the school will bear the name of him who was thus its first mason. This honour, which is wholly unmerited, sprang, of course, from the natural longing to attach themselves in any way to France. Not a word was spoken that was not an invocation of our country, of its fight against ignorance, source of all human woes. There was a numerous and fashionable company present, whose large befeathered hats proved that Tucuman is not so very far from Paris after all. The ceremony was concluded by a pretty march-past of small boys and girls carrying the Argentine and French flags, and singing the national hymn, the _Marseillaise_. The little people put a world of spirit into their song. One little girl, about two feet high and gaily beribboned, was very determined to vanquish "tyranny." How congratulate her? I tried to express the very sincere pleasure the scene had given me, and remarked that these little Argentine tongues had a slightly Argentine accent in the _Marseillaise_. "That is not surprising," said their proud master. "They do not know a word of French." Then what about that charming baby's loudly expressed hatred of tyranny? It is true the significance of the hymn lies rather in the music than in its phraseology, now a century old. Children, begin by learning French, and do not wait for the opening of the school whose first stone I have just laid. All things shall be added unto you. FOOTNOTES: [29] To give an idea of the capacity of the port: there are 5 kilometres of quays and 81 kilometres of railroad to serve the docks. The large elevator measures 3000 cubic metres. It can handle 50 tons from the Parana and 500 tons from the railway per hour. [30] Speaking of a recent election, a well-known leader in the province of Buenos Ayres said: "I have been reproached with spending money. I silenced my enemies by asking them what other means of action they had left me." Making due allowance for exaggeration natural enough in the circumstances, the words contain a hint that may be usefully retained. [31] The sugar industry in the Argentine is but fifty years old. There are 70,000 hectares now under cane, with 31 refineries, the majority of which are in Tucuman. The total output is estimated at 130,000 tons. [32] Was it not surprising to find in the hall of a Tucuman house casts of some of the best busts of the Louvre and Comédie Française? CHAPTER XI URUGUAY AND URUGUAYANS Montevideo, at first sight, had given me so favourable an impression that I was anxious not to lose an opportunity of seeing more of it. But I had begun with the Argentine, and in such a country the more you see the more you want to see. I tore myself away from it with great regret, conscious that I was leaving much undone. Time had passed all too quickly. I had now only three weeks left for Brazil, where long months ought, rather, to be spent. Small as it is, Uruguay is for many reasons one of the most interesting of the South American republics. How far could a few days be made to go there? In its general features the country is not very different from the Argentine Pampas. There are the same alluvial soil, the same _estancias_, the same system of agriculture and cattle rearing. For me the principal interest lay in the Uruguay character. Three visits of one day each furnished me with an occasion to converse with some of their most distinguished statesmen, but is this sufficient ground on which to form an opinion of a race whose superabundant activity is directed towards every department of knowledge, as of labour, now the first essential in any civilisation? I do not pretend that it is. Still, I consider that even a brief investigation, if perfectly disinterested and unprejudiced, can and should furnish elements of sound information that are not to be despised. But perhaps I shall be excused if, instead of making affirmations that are open to challenge, I give myself the pleasure of dwelling on the splendid qualities of these courageous and modest men who are engaged in building up a social structure that is worthy of all our admiration. Uruguay, once the "Oriental Band" of the Argentine, lies between that Republic and Brazil, forming thus a buffer State which, in the event of war between Rio de Janeiro and Buenos Ayres (which the gods forfend!), would make it somewhat difficult for the two hostile armies to get at each other. If for this reason alone, I am disposed to think the constitution of an independent State between the River Uruguay and the sea a very wise provision. I am aware, however, that peace between the Argentine, Brazil, and Chile is the accepted maxim of South American foreign policy; and it is very sound doctrine, the triple hegemony offering a fairly solid guarantee against usurpation by one. Notwithstanding its diminutive size, as compared with its gigantic neighbours, Uruguay appears well fitted morally to fulfil the conditions of an independent State. There is a marked development of national spirit among its population, whose most striking feature is a mental activity that is sometimes carried to excess. Brazil has laid out immense sums of money in the purchase of _Dreadnoughts_ (not always perfect), and the Argentine felt, consequently, in duty bound to burden herself also with some of these sea monsters. Against whom are the Argentine and Brazil thus arming? They would both find it hard to say, since they have plenty to do at home without directing their creative energy in European fashion to the business of destruction, unless absolutely forced thereto. Let me tell them that it is but vain bravado that has urged them on the dangerous, downward path of armament. Where will they stop? When you have a population as large in proportion as that of the United States, it will be time enough, alas! to claim your share in the great international concert of extermination. Begin by giving life, oh, happy folk, who have been robbed by none and who have nothing to recover! I have already spoken of the appearance of Montevideo. A broad bay, commanding the entrance of the Rio de la Plata, magnificently situated for a commercial port, the Government has not overlooked its advantages. In 1901 tenders were invited, and a French syndicate was granted the contract for the construction of the docks. There are important quarries in all parts of Uruguay, which is more favoured than the Argentine in this respect; and the builders found all the stone they needed close to hand. The colossal work is now nearly ended. In 1909 two of our armoured cruisers, the _Gloire_ and the _Marseillaise_, visited the port of Montevideo. The comfortable boats of the Mihanowitch Company, which run daily between Buenos Ayres and Montevideo, moor alongside the quays. Why the large European vessels should be forced to remain outside in the roads is a puzzle; the only explanation seems to be a quarrel between the different governing bodies, to which, I trust, the Uruguay Government will speedily put an end. As things are, the building of the docks is but a sorry farce, and the more regrettable because one of the features of the handsome harbour is a simplification of the harbour dues, which entails the least delay on the vessels calling there.[33] M. Sillard, who has been in charge of the works from the beginning, took us to various places on the bay; and, in his motor-car, we climbed half-way up the famous Cerro, so that we might have the pleasure of walking a short distance over a road now under construction, which was spoilt for us by the disagreeable _saladeros_.[34] If I may say so without hurting the feelings of my friends, the Cerro fort is not, I believe, impregnable. Its demolition has, it is said, been decided upon. If an hotel or casino were built on its site, the Montevideans would have a pleasant object for excursion, for from the top of the hill there is a grand view over the town and estuary to the ocean and the River Uruguay. The Lieutenant of the city--an American of European education, with five years spent in the Diplomatic Service at Rome behind him--kindly offered to do the honours of the town for us. Under the guidance of M. Daniel Muñoz,[35] who is as well known at Buenos Ayres as at Montevideo, we saw every part of his domain, from the business quarter to the luxurious suburban villas, the well-planted public squares, and large parks that are growing rapidly, to say nothing of a handsome promenade along the sea-front, and the unpleasant smelling _saladeros_ of some of the environs. A short halt at the Prefect's private house gave us an opportunity of judging of the comfort and luxury of the big Montevidean dwellings. As for the city itself, there is little to remark beyond the curious contrast offered by the tall, handsome, modern buildings and the singular little "colonial houses" so popular in Montevideo, which look as if some sprite had cut them off short at the first story for the fun of whisking the rest out of sight. As the town of Montevideo can boast, and must obviously preserve, the aspects of the capital city, these over-ornamented "half-houses" and the clumps of green trees scattered everywhere lend it a youthful charm which I hope it will not soon lose. As a matter of fact, these houses are charming in effect--in the eyes, at least, of those who do not walk about with their heads too high in the air--a pose that is not to be recommended. They not only constitute a very agreeable _façade_, taken all together, but their _patio_ is so designed as to be admirably adapted to the special needs of the climate. If I were going to live in Montevideo, it would certainly be in one of these little houses. They have another virtue also, since they illustrate the necessity of experiment in building before one is committed to the settled plan. If the Town Council insists on constructing houses of several stories in some of the avenues, the measure may have its justification in the interest of the æsthetic and the useful. But before they trouble about the effect which their streets may produce as photographs, the Montevideans will, I hope, devote attention to comfort. Let the town spread freely, since there is plenty of space available. Is it not the curse of all our large European cities to be cramped and confined? New York, between two arms of the sea, has been obliged to invent its hideous "skyscrapers." One must encourage expansion to get all the air and light necessary to health. The population of Montevideo must be nearly a million now.[36] It has many a fine beach on its coast. A rich vegetation exists in all parts. Let no childish vanity induce it to attempt too soon to vie with Europe! Its friends can wish it nothing better. I have said nothing of the public buildings, because they are everywhere the same, except, perhaps, in those European countries where the masses have taken possession of the palaces of their former masters. To me they were less interesting than their inmates--that is, the members of the Government. Of the three Presidents who did me the honour to receive me in the course of my journey, each has now, in the normal course of events, yielded his place to a successor. Señor Williman, who left the presidential chair on the 1st of March, had the keenest possible sense of his responsibility to his country. He was the son of an Americanised Alsatian, and seems to have imported into his exercise of authority that valuable quality of well-reasoned idealism which has made his race one of the most precious constituent parts of the French nation. It must not be forgotten that an American President is first and foremost a man of action, exactly the reverse of the chief of the State in our European democracies; and a turbulent Opposition, ever ready to rush to extremes, makes the task of government every day more difficult. Señor Williman gave me the impression of being somewhat reserved, but the genuinely democratic simplicity of his welcome and the slow gravity of his speech betokened a man whose convictions would be deliberate but profound. We touched on the political questions now engrossing Europe, and I found he had long been familiar with all the problems that are keeping us so busy. It is not easy for me to give a personal opinion about the parliamentary world. The Senate organised a friendly reception in my honour at which we exchanged cordial toasts. But what can a Frenchman do when he knows not a word of Spanish, unless his Spanish hosts can speak French? There were only two or three members of Senate or Chamber with whom I could talk. Smiles and gestures of good-will, as we clinked our glasses of champagne, were all that was left to us. The eyes asked questions that could be but imperfectly answered. Amongst graver politicians were many young men eager for reforms. One of the "youngsters"--in this fortunate land even the senators are scarcely out of their teens--observed to me, with gently emphasised irony, that Uruguay had travelled farther along the road marked out by the French Revolution than our own present Republic. "The pain of death has been abolished in Uruguay. It has been retained by the Argentine and...." "And in France, I acknowledge. We are, moreover, confronted with a strong retrogressive movement in favour of the right of society to take life." "We have divorce by mutual consent. The Argentine has nothing even approaching it. The question of divorce has been raised there. The influence of the clergy prevented all discussion. As for the French Republic...." "We have still retained the traditional system," I confess. "And then our code grants the same rights to the illegitimate child, when recognised, as to those born in wedlock--this is common equity." "I do not deny it. But the prejudice that exists in our public mind on this subject appears to me so deeply rooted that, without venturing on risky predictions, I think we shall not obtain the solution of the problem that your democracy has accepted without encountering the keenest resistance." None will be surprised to hear that the conversation drifted quickly towards the Uruguay revolutions. Here the thread of our talk was picked up by a young journalist--a Deputy--who has spent a long time in Paris and is generally considered to be a coming man. In witty and picturesque language, he explained that Uruguay's revolutions had no more importance than a fit of hysterics. One is Red; another is White. A tie or a bit of stuff sewn on the hat serves as a badge.[37] The cradle supplies the bit of stuff; in a moment of popular excitement it is adopted, and becomes at once a point of honour. Then some little thing happens which, for one reason or another, leads to a heated discussion, and immediately there follows a general conflagration. The only fixed idea left in you is that you are a Red and the Whites must be exterminated, or _vice versa_, according to the camp in which you may be enrolled. There is nothing for it, then, but to let the effervescence escape. But when I remarked that the life of a man counted for nothing when Uruguayan effervescence was escaping, the ready assent they gave me showed that on this point no discussion was possible. "But I understood you had abolished the death sentence." "It is legally abolished, but illegally...." "Just so. Modern law, but ancient--very ancient--practice." As may have been noticed, there is a general tendency towards comparisons--I ought, perhaps, rather to call it jealousy--of the relative progress in Argentine and Uruguay. The "Oriental Band" is, in Buenos Ayres, talked of with affectionate good nature, as if it were a sulky member of the family. You cannot praise Uruguay without winning universal approval, accompanied by a smiling reserve that seems to say, "The Orientals are worthy to be Argentinos." At Montevideo you are more likely to be asked frankly which country you consider foremost; and if you reply that you are quite incompetent to judge, be sure that your answer will be interpreted according to the inclination of the party interested. This often happened to me--annoyingly enough. Every nation has its strong and weak points, which must be judged according to the form they take and the times in which we are moving. I certainly did not go to the South Americans for a classification of the different States of Europe. Why should I have been expected to draw up a scale of civilisation for them? The Argentine, Uruguay, and Brazil are, each in their way, grand social structures, having their defects, like the countries of Europe. I am telling what I saw, leaving to all the liberty of replying that I was mistaken in what I saw. That is sufficient. But one of the best ways of moving ahead of one's fellows is to acquire the capacity of self-judgment and self-reformation. Amongst so many kindly hosts I may pick out the youthful Minister of Foreign Affairs, Señor Emilio Barbatoux, whose polished Parisianism made him the mark for all the questions dictated by my ignorance. With unwearying courtesy the statesman, who is perfectly conversant with the French point of view, succeeded in adapting himself to my particular line of vision, and greatly facilitated the too superficial examination I was making by the clearness of his information. I was invited to a very French dinner at the Uruguay Club, where I found the greatest comfort combined with Franco-American luxury; and I was able to study at my ease the pure Latinity of the Uruguay politician. If I had foreseen these "Travel Notes" I should have jotted down on paper some of the speeches to which I listened on my travels, when French culture was eulogised in the highest terms by the natives of these countries, whose future is of such interest to us. It was not till I had left it all behind me that I became conscious of the omission. I can only say that in the Uruguay Club, and again in Mme. Sillard's charming home, I found France again, as also in the _salons_ of the French Minister at Montevideo.[38] There was something of France, too, in the editorial offices of _La Razon_ and of _El Dia_--for, of course, an old journalist could not resist the temptation of calling at a newspaper office.[39] Having gone there intending to interview the editor in my own way, the tables were turned on me and a volley of questions fired off at me. Next morning there appeared the very interview I had been avoiding, and all my "Ah's!" and "Oh's!" were cunningly interpreted to make up a tale. Consequently, all I can report of Uruguay journalism is that my _confrères_ of Montevideo excel in the art of the Abbé de l'Epée, who managed to make the dumb talk. I trust this remark will be taken as praise. The few occasions I had for talking with my _confrères_ have left a very pleasant recollection. I can truthfully proclaim them all Latins of the purest water--Latins by their vivacity, by the warmth of their temperament, by the trend of their mind towards general truths, by every sign of their predilection for wrestling with ideas. In this respect it was impossible to think them otherwise than youthful and delightful. The estimable Renan, who was indulgence itself, gently reproached me once with a lack of leniency. Alas! Time, the mother of Experience, brings to us all in the end the faculty of appreciation in the sense in which the philosopher meant it, and he himself never consented to sacrifice one of his early opinions unless he could at least preserve its terminology. Still, it is a serious question, not only which is the better, but which has wrought the more good in the world--youth, with its presumptuous eagerness, or weary wisdom. Now, is it possible to deduce any definite ideas of the special features of the people of Uruguay from these faithfully reported but necessarily diffuse notes, culled in chance encounters? If I had not just come from the Argentine I should have plenty of material. But as it is, consider, pray, that I have only to modify some epithets in consideration of the smaller proportions of the subject and all I might tell you of the aspect of town or country, as also of the mind and character of its inhabitants, would, to all intents and purposes, sound in your ears like a twice-told tale.[40] Then, you will say, the Argentine and Uruguay are practically one and the same. That I cannot admit. As well might one confound Marseillais and Brestois, who, however, are of the same country. I prefer not to pronounce an opinion that might foment the never-slumbering rivalry that exists between the two Hispano-American peoples of La Plata. But as the common-sense of Governments and peoples generally prevails over public excitement, and as the paramount interest of both countries is the same in economic matters as well as in the more or less clearly defined field of American politics, there is, I think, no reason to fear that either can take offence at an opinion inspired by equal respect for both parties. What more shall I say? A country of 1,400,000 inhabitants; a town of 400,000 souls. If Buenos Ayres is the second Latin city in the world, Montevideo follows--at some little distance, perhaps, but with a creditable total. The soil is no less well worked, cattle-rearing is equally successful, while the _saladeros_ and large factories, like those of the Liebig Company at Fray Bentos, provide a market as good as the freezing-machines for Buenos Ayres. The political and social institutions are much alike, both inspired by the same regard for equality as proclaimed by the French Revolution, and permeated by our own doctrines of justice and liberty. And if the Uruguayans have ventured to carry purely logical solutions farther than we have done, the reason is probably that the democratic Governments of these new countries have not had to contend with the same atavistic resistance that must be reckoned with in older lands, where men's minds have been moulded by long history. A cheap criticism might here be made by considering only such and such an aspect of these young communities. We lay great stress on their revolutions, and whilst it is to be hoped that violence will before long be laid aside, I have unreservedly set down all I learned about these movements. Nevertheless, we must admit that Uruguay is not without a show of reason when she replies by throwing up at us the floods of blood that we have shed in the course of our civil wars, and that down to our most recent history. Let the sinless throw the first stone. The ardent nationalism of Uruguay has nothing to fear from that of the Argentine. There are advantages and disadvantages in importing too great sensitiveness into every question. As a contribution to the International Exhibition in honour of the Argentine centenary, Uruguay published a very handsome volume, in which there was set forth in pictures and figures the entire history of their national development, the text being given in French and Spanish. The title was _Uruguay Through One Century_. The evolution of the Oriental Republic is therein set forth. Of course, the weak spot of such works is that they gloss over the deficiencies; and thus, though hiding nothing, there is always the risk of discomfiture when they are subjected to the brilliant light. It remains none the less true that the economic growth of Uruguay is in no whit inferior to that of the Argentine in these last few years, and the promise of the future justifies the highest hopes. It is possible that on either side of the estuary the heat of political and social verbiage is not always in accordance with cold reality. This is a criticism that might be made of any land, and I could apply it easily to those I know best. When all defects and excellences are taken into account, I should say the Uruguayan is distinguished from the Argentino by his impulsive idealism. Less sober-minded and less attached to novelty of doctrine--these are the two points that struck me first in his character. For this very reason he is more prone to argue about theories, and more expansive about himself and others. It may be that French is less current at Montevideo than at Buenos Ayres, though it seemed to me that, intellectually, French influence, if less profound, is more patent on the surface. The mixture of European races is about the same in the two countries. How is it that the first impression is one of greater Latinity?--Latinity of feeling, which lends a charm to social relations; Latinity of thought and action, with all the advantages of spontaneity, all the defects of method, its alternations of enthusiasm and hesitation in fulfilling its plans. The Latin conceived and created this modern civilisation, which the Northerner has appropriated to his own solid and empiric structures; but he has only succeeded in giving them their present universal application by renewed contact with the ideal in which the descendant of the Roman conquest too readily found consolation for his own desultory practice. South American Latinity has allowed itself to be left far behind by the great Anglo-Saxon Republic of the North, just as European Latinity has suffered its fiercest attacks from those who were designated the "Barbarians" by ancient Rome. Yet how great would be the darkness if the light of Latinity, as it survives even in its enemies, were suddenly to go out! If man could always measure the obstacle, he would frequently lack courage for the leap. It was the force of Latin impetus that sent modern humanity forth to besiege the fortresses of oppression, and it is the task of the experimental method to convert them by patience and perseverance into asylums of liberty; we know that to accomplish the miracle it will be necessary for the citizen to be made anew by the exercise of self-control and a primitive respect for the liberty of his neighbour. Considering all the feats that have been accomplished by the Latin races, I see nothing before them but this last and crowning marvel to complete their amazing history. In Uruguay the first indication of this new order of things will be the suppression of revolution. Before this comes to pass there will be great changes on both sides of the ocean, in the reflex action of humanity and, in a less degree, in its reasoning consciousness. Here is an educational work which offers a vast field for future effort. The Government of Uruguay is well aware that the greatest difficulty in the way of self-government is to establish the relation between principle and practice. It seeks, therefore, to implant in the young those broad general principles by which our private and public life must be regulated.[41] I lacked time to visit the schools, which are the most unmistakable thermometer of any social structure. A glance at the catalogue sent by the Primary Schools Council to the Third Congress of School Hygiene, held in Paris, August 2 to 7, 1910, will give us some light on the subject. This is not the place in which to describe the admirable organisation of obligatory primary teaching in Uruguay and the remarkable development of the primary schools under Señor Williman's presidency. The syllabus for a period of school life from the sixth to the fourteenth years is, I think, most interesting. In all the schools which are ranked as of first, second, or third degree, and in the country schools, the characteristic of the course is the revival of the object-lesson, still too often sacrificed in our European schools to the subjective teaching of olden days. In the very first year's work I note that the following subjects are included (to be carried farther in later years): geometry, notions of locality, the human body, animals, plants, minerals, weights and colour, demonstration lessons, etc. It is obvious that the first notions of such matters must, if they are to reach the minds of infants of six years, be of the most rudimentary character. But is not this the right age at which to begin to give a bias to the child's mind? In successive years it will be taught to observe and make simple experiments, so that it is progressively prepared for contact with the world in which it will be called to live, in a way that has little in common with the absorption of general rules which, until very recently, constituted the bulk of what we call education. The very fact that they have evolved this system of education, and that they have put their theories into practice, proves that the Latins of Uruguay are on the right road to succeed in the realisation of their hopes. For if they claim to impart to budding intelligence a solid base of observation and experience, or, in other words, to teach them the sensations that different phenomena give to us, and offer such explanations as we can supply, they will surely not be checked by the higher generalisations which are the natural outcome of scientific study and also its crown. Thus, in the catalogue of the school libraries for the use of pupils and professors I find such French works as these: Le Bon--_Psychologie de l'Éducation_, _L'Évolution de la matière_; Le Dantec--_Les Influences Ancestrales_, _De l'homme à la Science_; Henri Poincaré--_La Valeur de la Science_, _La Science et l'Hypothèse_. If we are not careful these "savages" will outstrip the "civilised." I shall make no bold predictions. There is, as I hinted just now, so wide a margin between understanding and the act that should result from it that the magnificent progress made in words is out of proportion to the slow evolution of action. It remains for our Uruguayan friends, as for their European judges, to surprise the world by a new history of human society. Whatever this history may hold in store for us, I am glad to think that our Latin republics of South America--and Uruguay amongst the first--will offer the spectacle of a splendid effort of high achievement. I will not seek to hide the great pleasure it gives me to record the fact, because, in the first place, the sight of man labouring to raise himself is always suggestive; and, secondly, because for a critical mind there is no better complement than the need of hope. FOOTNOTES: [33] The docks were built by the State alone without the help of a loan. In 1906 the tonnage of vessels entered and cleared in the port was fourteen millions. [34] Meat drying and salting is the principal industry of the country. In the _saladero_ the animal is killed and cut up, and the flesh dried and salted by a process analogous to that used with cod. Uruguay possesses thirty of these _saladeros_ (as against fifty in the Argentine and Brazil), with Brazil and Cuba for its chief markets. This article of food is now much esteemed in both countries, though formerly it was reserved for slaves. At Fray Bentos there are the large establishments of Liebig that must be mentioned to complete the list. [35] Señor Daniel Muñoz is now Minister of Uruguay at Buenos Ayres. [36] Of these, 100,000 are foreigners. [37] The Reds are the advanced party, the Whites the conservative. It was from the Reds that Garibaldi borrowed the famous red shirt that he brought back from Montevideo. [38] I should have liked to thank M. and Mme. Carteron for their kindness. Alas! Mme. Carteron's sudden death has left a blank in her home. [39] The papers are distributed in the streets of Montevideo by children on horseback. They fling the sheets skilfully into the doorways, where they frequently remain, respected by all passers-by. [40] There is only one point that it is only just to repeat: it is that the women of Uruguay are very beautiful. More or less so than the Argentinos? In the Pan-American Congress the ladies of Buenos Ayres gave the palm to a celebrated beauty of Montevideo, in an outburst of hospitable chivalry. I would not have the bad taste to say a word either way. The two banks of La Plata appear to me equally propitious for the development of feminine æsthetics, and for the foreigner who loves art the handsomest model is ever that which is before his eyes. [41] On the initiative of Señor Claude Williman, the late President, 360 country schools have been opened in Uruguay, so that the total number of primary public schools supported by the State reaches at the end of 1910, 1000, and gives us a ratio of one public school per 1095 of the population. CHAPTER XII RIO DE JANEIRO The _Orissa_ is an old coasting steamer of the Pacific Line, which calls at the western ports of South America, beginning at Callao, and passing through the Straits of Magellan, pushes as far as Montevideo, whence Santos and Rio de Janeiro are reached on the way to Southampton, the end of the journey, with a halt at La Palice. The _Orissa_ is not a rapid boat, but she is very staunch, and if her internal arrangements, of the oldest description, be not more than rudimentary, the voyage I made in her was very agreeable, thanks to the company of the captain, who I found knew India well. A heavy sea and a head wind made us a day late--a fair record in a journey only supposed to cover three days. The greatest trial on board was the music that played at mealtimes, when, without any provocation, three old salts, of pacific aspect as befitted servants of their Company, made daily distracting attempts to draw piercing discords from instruments which proved a cruel test of the harmony of our constitutions. One blew wildly into the little hole of a metal rod which shrieked in response; the second scraped furious sounds from his strings; while a piano, built probably about the time of Columbus, vainly endeavoured to bring the others into tune. It took an alarming quantity of ginger and Worcester sauce to settle the nerve-cells so cruelly exasperated by the rapid absorption of food in the discordant tumult of this orchestra. We know the ancients believed in the soothing influence of divine harmony. I wondered whether the _Orissa's_ fife might not have had something to do with the saraband of the wild waves we encountered. I lay the doubt before the directors of the Company. One thing is certain; at dawn, with no music at all, and (remarkable coincidence) with a sea that had suddenly calmed down, we entered the Santos River. A long arm of the sea between low-lying shores ending in a vast bay framed in high mountains; marshy plains covered with a tangle of tropical vegetation, or a low line of hill buttresses; all that is visible of the land seems to be sending upwards to the blue sky its tall shoots of foliage, which testify to the effect of the vivifying orb on the quivering sap of the tropics. On all sides, under the swaying lacework of green leaves, there appeared brightly painted cabins, which set a note of bold colour in the sea of verdure.[42] _Pirogues_ made from the hollowed trunks of trees and painted in the crude tones beloved of savages glide up and down the transparent waters. Nothing here that recalls Europe. This is where the curtain rises on the New World. Shadowy forms, in strange draperies, pass to and fro before the little cabins whose colouring gives them a strong resemblance to children's toys, and then suddenly disappear as though swallowed up in the luminous mystery of all this foliage. The relative proportions of all things are new here. Nature has broken her usual limit in these countries and developed immoderately, leaving man, by comparison, dwarfed and insignificant. Too small, he appears in a world too large. But already he is engaged in taking a revenge, as is shown by the disappearance of the yellow fever from the marshes of Santos. We know that no other town has been more cruelly tried. The simple fact of drying up the marshes when the harbour was building sufficed to destroy the scourge. The low shores of Santos Bay are still covered with salt marshes where little scarlet crabs clamber amongst the brushwood, but every trace of fresh water has disappeared, and we know that it is only in fresh water that the dangerous mosquito can live. The _Orissa_ moored alongside the quay, amongst the large cargo-boats down whose yawning holds long lines of porters were flinging bags of coffee. Each in turn advanced with alert step along the swinging plank, and as soon as the man in front of him had deposited his sack the same movement of the shoulders, repeated immediately after by the man behind, gave an uninterrupted cascade of yellow bags,[43] falling from the docks, where were heaped the mountains of berries, to the vast bosom of the ship. You, who, like me, have heard Creole laziness abused a thousand times, learn that the "lazy" Brazilian only relaxes this hard labour for the period strictly necessary for rest; and not even in the hottest part of the summer, when the sun is at its fiercest, does he indulge in so much as a _siesta_. In Brazil, indeed, the _siesta_ is unknown. I do not mention the fact in order to reproach Europeans. My only intention is to do justice to the toilers whose reputation has suffered at the hands of the ignorant and foolish. To return to Santos. We are impelled towards the quay in the first place by a strong desire to penetrate to the very heart of the marvellous landscape, and scarcely taking the time to shake the French hands outstretched to us on the landing-stage, we set out for the beach of Saint Vincent. Oh, surprise! A French hotel, all white, and redolent of the modern watering-place, where there awaits us a table decorated with orchids. But behold a tramway that runs to the end of the beach! In these countries to be in a tramcar is to be in the open air. So we follow the wide curve of silvery sand, bordered with villas whose gardens are enchanting with flowers and unexpected plants, whilst on the rocks of the small wooded islets, a cable's length from the shore, high waves are breaking stormily to melt softly away at our feet. The first impression is one of vigorous vegetation. In my first delightful surprise it seemed this could never be surpassed. We stop at Saint Vincent, and then return. According to the legend, it was in the little Bay of Saint Vincent that Calval with his warriors and monks first landed on these shores, thus discovering Brazil, which it only remained to conquer and convert. Naturally the event has been commemorated in stone and bronze. But Calval himself has reminded us that, if we would land in time, we must first catch our boat. A hasty lunch, and we are again on board the _Orissa_, which to-morrow at sunrise will enter the bewitching Bay of Rio. The entry is triumphal in this inland sea encircled by high mountains, with bristling summits like rocks in battle array, but relieved by sunny shores, with flowery and mysterious islands, where the dazzling lights of sky and sea are blended under the sensuous sunlight in the clear shade of lofty leafage. At four o'clock I was already on deck. Haze, a fine rain--there will be nothing visible at all. Jagged rocks emerge from the mists, which all at once conceal them from view. We are moving through a cloud. Two forts, the São João and the Santa Cruz, guard the entrance for the sake of appearances. In one of the recent revolutions they bombarded each other for a whole month for the entertainment of the inhabitants of Rio, who used to come out to the quays of an afternoon to criticise the firing. At the moment they are in a spasm of peace. Farther away, we are shown the soft outline of the _Minas-Geraes_, the redoubtable _Dreadnought_ which--but we must not anticipate the story. Then come the hideous steeples of Gothic sugar-icing which the Emperor Dom Pedro II. felt himself called to place on the most ridiculous palace that ever disgraced a small island. We stop here, for the quays are not sufficiently extensive for us to draw up alongside. Now we can see the town, with its spots of bright colour on the misty background of swelling green hills. We have reached Rio de Janeiro--the January River--so called by the first comers from Portugal, who took the bay for a river as the Spaniards had done for the La Plata estuary. Perhaps in January--that is, in the height of the summer--these explorers had like us the excuse of a fog, for tropical vegetation is only possible when there are alternations of rain and sunshine such as the climate of Rio abundantly supplies. It is the rarest of phenomena to see the horizon perfectly clear. The distance is invariably wreathed with a light haze which softens the violence of the colours. After the fierce sun, a refreshing rain; after the shower, the joy of warm light. For the moment we are enjoying a fog. A bark hails us, the national flag flying at her bows. She brings a delegation from the Senate, with their Speaker at their head, come to offer a brotherly welcome to their French colleague. Next arrived the brother of the President of the Republic, who acts as his chief Secretary, and who was accompanied by an officer of the military household of the Minister of the Marine. Many complimentary speeches were made as usual, and a handful of brother journalists followed, having among them M. Guanabara, editor of the _Imprensa_. What touched me most was the way in which they all spoke of France and her _rôle_ of high civilisation which she plays in the world. The President of the Senate, M. Bocayuva, whose son is just now Brazilian _chargé d'affaires_ in Paris, is a Republican of the old school and unanimously respected by all parties. One realised as one listened to the heartiness with which he called up a picture of the moral authority of France that he was in close harmony with the traditions of the French Revolution. In this way are we in full communion of mind and heart with the main currents of thought and feeling which are carrying the nations of the world towards the better forms of justice and liberty. Here in Brazil, too, I shall find once more my country, as I quickly discovered in the course of the conversation I had with Señor Bocayuva during our drive from the Farou Quay to the handsome house which the Government has done me the honour to place at my disposal. The sun had scattered some of the fog by the time we reached the Avenida Central, a magnificent highway which would be the pride of any capital city,[44] and as the motor-car sped swiftly down it or along that equally fine promenade above the quays jutting into the bay, whose features now grew gradually visible, and the gay villas with their frame of gorgeous foliage, we got a highly attractive view of the town, softly caressed on one hand by the luminous waters with their ever-changing horizons, and on the other, ever threatened by invasion of the tropical forest, struggling with the eagerness of the builder, whose efforts are ever hemmed in by parks and gardens and trees of all sorts that spring up from the soil at haphazard, evidences of the irresistible force of life that is here in Nature. Since the day when the sea brought man to the country, the struggle for existence has continued between the encampment of the budding city and the impenetrable thickets that ever repelled the invader. On the spurs, the ledges of the round green hills, everywhere the painted cabin has obtained a footing facing the bay, cutting out for itself with the axe openings through which may enter the daylight. Below, the town, which spreads out to the beach, would appear to be cut up by the farthest buttresses of the mountain range, and, pending the time when they will be tunnelled, the _Flumineuse_[45] will still be obliged to make many a long _détour_ to reach any given point. But why linger in the city, except to mention the Municipal Theatre, which cost far too many millions, and the pleasing Monroe Palace built for the Pan-American Congress? Even the parks, whose extraordinary trees draw loud exclamations of surprise from us every minute, cannot compete in interest with the forest. We can never get tired, however, of the wondrous promenade on the quays, seven kilometres in length, and presently to be doubled. Following the graceful lines of the sea front, with its array of flowers, whence at every moment we get a new view of the bay, we drink in the ineffable light that makes the sea palpitate and the mountain leap in a single voluptuous rhythm. In the distance a white line, Nicterchy, the capital of the State of Rio (40,000 inhabitants); at the entrance of the bay the tall cone of granite known as the "sugar-loaf"; then the green islets, the rocks, the mountains that melt in the blue gauze of the horizon, and if you turn round, the high "Corcovado," hovering over the city, from whose summit the whole expanse of the bay will be revealed to us--rapidly changing scenery whose excess of living quality defies pen or pencil. The infinite variety of the Rio Bay (140 kilometres in extent[46]) with all its hidden indentations in which lie screened from view so many richly wooded shores, where new forests are in process of formation, is beyond all possibility of description. I have said enough: I have seen it, and my dazzled eyes will not soon forget the picture. My first visit was, of course, to the President of the Republic, who was about to yield his place to Marshal Hermès da Fonseca, whose visit to Lisbon, planned in all ignorance, was destined to coincide with the Portuguese Revolution. A warm reception from Señor Nilo Peçanha, who showed me round his fine park, where royal palms which are one of the glories of Rio de Janeiro form a gorgeous avenue down to the very shores of the bay. The Baron de Rio Branco (a family ennobled under the Empire),[47] Minister of Foreign Affairs since 1902, was at one time Consul-General in Paris. He knew many of our public men and received me with the cordial simplicity of a friend. "The Baron," as he is commonly designated, enjoys sovereign authority in all matters pertaining to the external policy of the country. Friends and foes unite to leave him a free field in this respect, and all unite, too, in praise of his remarkable talents as diplomat. He does not conceal the fact that his sympathies are with France, though his admiration is reserved for Germany. The German Military Mission to Brazil was his idea, but it came to nothing. Some one in his immediate entourage told me he considers the German instructor to be specially capable of instilling into Brazilian troops the sense of military duty. Too many instances of insubordination--some very serious--have indeed shown the urgent necessity for such teaching. But can Señor de Rio Branco really think it possible to instil into the mind and manners of a democracy the doctrine of absolutism in military duty such as William II. has laid it down in repeated public utterances? If such absurd stress had not been laid upon the supposed rivalry between the States of Saint Paul and Rio de Janeiro, I believe that Baron de Rio Branco must have admitted like every one else the merits of our admirable French Military Mission to Saint Paul, of which I shall have occasion presently to speak again. If I may speak freely, I do not consider it diplomatic for France to leave so important a post as Rio for more than one year in the hands of a simple _chargé d'affaires_, no matter how experienced. Whatever happens, two features in the Brazilian character will to my thinking remain predominant. They are democratic idealism and a consequent innate taste for French culture. This was brought powerfully home to me at the official reception with which I was honoured by the Senate. This demonstration was carried by a vote that was almost unanimous, there being only one against.[48] In a public sitting, the speaker chosen for the occasion seated me on his right hand and then made in French a noble speech, in which after the usual compliments he declared that his country also upheld the glorious traditions of the French Revolution. Then a senator from the Amazon, Señor Georges de Moraès, got up to speak, and, also in French, delivered an admirable harangue on the _rôle_ of French culture in the general evolution of civilised society towards social justice and liberty. This oratorical effort was frequently interrupted by the unanimous applause of an audience quick to grasp the crisp outlines of our splendid dogmas of Latin idealism. This magnificent homage to my great country, coming from the highest representatives of the noble Brazilian democracy, itself invariably attuned to the realisation of humanitarian justice, touched me profoundly, and I could but say how great was my joy to hear my nation spoken of with the respect and gratitude due to the grandeur of its action on the world. I wished I had at my disposal the same eloquence to express, in my turn, the deep gratitude I felt for this movement towards France, whose history has, by some fate, been so grievously checkered by many painful conflicts. What encouragement there is for us in this brilliant demonstration of disinterested cordiality! What hopes for the future may be founded on this bond of union between peoples working equally in the cause of democracy, and towards a great and universal peace based on the rights of man in all civilised continents! I endeavoured to make this clear, and the simple words of brotherly friendliness that sprang to my lips roused unanimous applause from the benches of the august assembly. I wish I could have done better. I trust my good intentions will speak for me. Never did I feel so strongly the influence of the loftiness of human nobility and its power to raise our minds to the highest aspirations after justice and liberty. Before bringing the sitting to an end the President called for three cheers for France, for President Fallières, and for the guest of the Senate. And all the assembly on their feet, with the gravity of suppressed emotion, gave three times the cry of "_Vive la France!_" amid the applause of the spectators. I am sorry to say I cannot speak of Brazil in the way I should like. I was there only three weeks, just long enough to recognise how great an interest is attached to all the developments of this marvellous land in the different departments of human intellectual and physical activity, but far too short a time to warrant any opinion of the prominent men I met there, or on the multiple questions which are raised by the political and social progress of this democracy. I was able to converse with only a few politicians, and in my anxiety to see everything, I touched on too many subjects in too brief a space to have succeeded in assimilating the very complex impressions which might have enabled me to speak with some degree of authority. I can therefore only offer to the public a few rapid impressions for which I claim only the merit of sincerity. When I said that the ancestor of my friend Señor Acines de Mello had given a performance of Voltaire's tragedies in his home, 1400 kilometres from the coast, in 1780, it sufficed to show that neither general civilisation nor French culture is a new thing in Brazil. The Republic of Brazil is an "ancient" Latin community which can show titles of intellectual nobility and lofty social ambitions. Its economic development, if less sudden in origin than that of the Argentine, is none the less remarkable in all respects and holds out no less hopes for the future. Coffee, india-rubber, timber, sugar, cotton, rice, and mines are a source of wealth that the future will reveal. There are immense stretches of country that are and must long remain unexplored. The effort of a fine race has too long been held in check by slavery, but its incessant activity has already produced astonishing results. For numerous reasons, one of the principal being the domination of theocracy, neither Spain nor Portugal has up to the present been able to give in modern Europe the full measure of their force. In South America they are making ready a magnificent revenge, which, however, will not, I hope, prevent their taking and keeping in Europe the position that is their due. If I may venture to make a hasty judgment from what I was able to see, the distinctive traits in this people would appear to be an irresistible force of impetuosity in an invariably gracious guise, and every talent necessary to insure the fulfilment of their destiny. I have spoken of the crossing of the race in the Argentine, where the black element has been re-absorbed. It is not the same in Brazil, where at every step one comes across the African half-breed amongst the masses. The Portuguese woman and the negro seem to get on well together, as is evidenced by the innumerable young half-breeds to be seen in their serene bronze nudity at the doors of the cabins. It is difficult to estimate the general results of this mixture. The negro has the reputation of being idle, childlike, and kind except in his outbursts of rage. As I have said before, the vice of laziness cannot be imputed to the Brazilian. It may be that African blood is partly responsible for the demonstrations of emotional impressionability and unexpected violence that sometimes take hold of the populace. I dare not carry this argument too far. Yet, to my mind, the mutiny of the crews of the _Saint Paul_ and _Minas-Geraes_, as of the troops of marines in barracks in the island of Las Cobras, was largely due to the excitable African blood. The "governing classes" seem untouched by this infusion of blood. But for some reason or other, their virtues and their defects seem remarkably well adapted to the corresponding characteristics of the masses. Idealists with a cult for intellectuality, equally ready for higher culture as for the hard labour without which nothing is ever achieved, gentle and violent by turns, or even simultaneously--the variable sons of this soil, less disunited, however, than one might suppose, may invoke in their favour with a just pride a work already grandiose though but a feeble embryo by comparison with what it must in time become. In every department of modern activity Brazil need have no fear of the criticism of Europe, for she possesses men comparable with any of our chiefs of industry. Even a short visit suffices to show that there is no lack of either intellectual quality or business method. But the field is so vast that it would need innumerable legions to fully occupy it. Considered in this light, every effort appears totally inadequate in comparison with its immense possibilities. Admirable labourers they are, none the less, hard at work, in their modesty and perseverance, with no wish to spare themselves, and asking nothing from the struggle with inanimate Nature but ground for fresh hope. Does this imply that in certain directions of public action there is no wavering visible? How happy would modern society be if this could be said only of Brazil! Politicians are never in very high favour with the intellectuals of a country. I will say nothing against either the one or the other. The celebrated retort: "'Nothing' is a wide field: reign there!" may with some slight modification be applied to the most gifted of men when they persist in riding the eternal hobby of the ideal heedless of earthly conditions. Some of the problems with which humanity has wrestled for centuries have been solved by a single illuminating word uttered in calm authority by men who would not have shone in _rôles_ that call for a gradual development of character. Politicians, on the other hand, whatever their shortcomings--and I must acknowledge that, in a moment of trial, they are frequently disappointing--have yet this merit, that they play the labourer's part. They have to handle every kind of problem, not to find a graceful solution that will delight the intellectuals, but to extract therefrom certain conditions of private and public life which according to events may make the fortune or misfortune of the public. It may be that in Brazil they are too much attached to the higher culture always to give sufficient consideration to the common necessities of our daily life. It may be that they are too intrinsically Latin always to be able to resist the temptation of rushing events. These defects, if they really exist, are being cured. The politicians with whom I had an opportunity of exchanging views, both at Saint Paul and at Rio de Janeiro, would bear comparison, whether as regards culture or systematic firmness in action, with any in the world. An aristocracy had grown up around the person of the Emperor, the last remnants of which are now being fast submerged in the current of democracy. I shall mention no names, for I do not want these hasty notes to bear the smallest resemblance to a distribution of prizes. Let me only mention one case--a very rare one in Latin nations--of a leader who is universally obeyed. I have no doubt that Señor Pinhero Machado possesses all the qualities of a leader deft in handling men, but it is less his talents that astonish me than his self-abnegation, which has brought into line so many politicians of Latin temperament. The more momentous political questions of the day relate to organisation, there being no room for any serious attacks on principles that have been proclaimed and incorporated in the Constitution of the Republic. It is in practice that difficulties are apt to occur. The Empire showed a marked tendency towards centralisation.[49] The Republic, being, like the United States, a federation of States, is based on the theory of pure autonomy. But if the autonomy of these States is to be more than a vain word, some way must be found of constituting in each province of a territory which is eighteen times as large as France, and contains twenty millions of inhabitants unequally scattered over it, a sufficient force of intelligent determination to create a select governing body which will express the intellectual and moral capacity in the masses; otherwise democracy becomes only tyranny disguised. In some States, notably in that of Saint Paul, there is obviously a superabundance of energy. In others there is not enough. Time and community of effort can alone remedy this condition of affairs. Meantime, the balance is destroyed, and the Constitution enjoys principally a theoretic authority. It is inevitable that the result should be some confusion in Press[50] and Parliament, although the strife is rather one of dogma than of action, and lies principally between Federals and Unionists. Religious questions are practically outside the public domain. The separation of Church and State in Brazil goes with a papal nuncio, by means of whom South American innocence supposes the fact adds a distinction which should dazzle the outer world. I fancied that some of the public men viewed the activity of the religious Orders with apprehension, but I will say nothing further on the point. Laws for the protection of agricultural and industrial workers are here unknown. The Brazilian Republic will want to place itself on an equality with other civilised countries on this head as soon as possible, for already a number of colonists in lands where the administration has shown itself slow to take action have protested so loudly against the grave abuses that result that some Latin countries have been obliged to forbid emigration to Brazil. Take heed lest the States invoke their sovereign rights, which would be tantamount to declaring the central authority void. This throws light on the obstacle which now confronts progress on these vital questions--namely, the lack of an adequate Constitution in some of the States for the work of self-government, and of balance between those which have already a highly perfected civilisation and the districts theoretically on a footing of equality, but whose black or Indian population can only permit of a nominal democracy stained by those irresponsible outbursts which characterise primitive humanity. As might be expected, the same remarks could apply to public instruction. There is in certain States--as, for instance, Saint Paul--a magnificent group of schools which respond to the general consciousness of a pressing need for the spread of higher education; in other parts there is a lamentable deficiency.[51] It was, moreover, inevitable that the Federal Government itself should suffer from the unequal distribution of its military effectives. The State of Saint Paul is justly proud of an armed force which it owes to French instructors. I need not criticise the Federal army, which is officered by men of fine public spirit; but all agree that the force needs reorganising. There is no question, of course, of preparing for war; but the public interest requires that a military force should be at the disposal of the Government, capable of enforcing obedience to the laws. To me it seems more urgent than the acquisition of _Dreadnoughts_, which swallowed up millions of money and gave nothing but mutiny in return. Naval discipline necessarily suffered by the amnesty imposed by men who had just massacred their officers. As we know, this deplorable incident was followed by a mutiny amongst the marines stationed in the island of Las Cobras, which, however, for once, was severely put down. I inspected this body of troops at the manoeuvres arranged for my visit. The young officers gave me an excellent impression, and the barracks certainly left nothing to be desired; but there were far too many coloured men in the ranks. Who can tell the effect produced on these impulsive natures by the capitulation of the public governing body before a military rebellion? The rebels cruelly expiated the faults of others by adding thereto their own. As regards municipal administration, the greatest services have been rendered to the city by the Prefect, who interests himself especially in his schools amongst a long list of other duties. But the man who deserves the most from his country is Dr. Oswaldo Cruz, who has devoted himself to the improvement of the sanitary condition of the city and has instituted a service of sanitary police stationed at every point of contamination, and who, by dint of unwearying labour, has freed Rio of yellow fever. The Government has lent him generous pecuniary assistance in his work, but what is money without the man's perseverance and zeal? As we know, the disease is propagated by the sting of the female mosquito (the _Stegomya calopus_) just before the egg-laying season. In 1903 Dr. Oswaldo Cruz, having obtained from Congress all the necessary powers, began his fight with the fearful scourge. A body of sanitary police, organised by himself, was charged with the mission of getting rid of all stagnant water in the streets, houses, courtyards, gardens, roofs, gutters, and sewers, and from all other spots where the larvæ of the _stegomya_ could exist. In this he found material assistance in the scheme of public improvements then being carried out in the city--the building of the quays,[52] the drainage of marshy land, destruction of insanitary houses, cutting of new avenues, etc. In the course of the first year of these sanitary works there were 550 deaths from yellow fever; in the following year the number fell to forty-eight, and for the last three years not a single case has been recorded. Needless to say, the sanitary police brigade are continuing their duties, and in all parts of the city and in all the houses every trace of standing water is swept away. This constitutes a never-ending tyranny; but the result is the complete purification of a city which was once a den of pestilence, and is now one of the loveliest ornaments of the planet! Dr. Oswaldo Cruz was making ready to go to the Amazon, which is in a specially wholesome condition; he had already fulfilled a mission there last year. He will now complete the task of general sanitation already started, for which the Congress has furnished the necessary funds. This, perhaps, is the most important part of his project, for it will throw open an immense region of unlimited productiveness to every sort of civilised activity. Such a work would suffice to the glory of any one life, but Dr. Oswaldo Cruz is one of those men who are capable of continuing indefinitely their labours. The ex-pupil of the Pasteur Institute was anxious to endow his country with a similar school of therapeutics and prophylaxy. In a picturesque loop of the bay there stood a small building which was used by the engineer of the prefecture in the burning of rubbish. Dr. Oswaldo Cruz has transformed it into the _Institut Manguinhos_ (Institute of Experimental Medicine), with the special mission to study infectious and parasitic diseases in men and animals, as well as hygiene, and to prepare the different serums which modern therapeutics has adopted. It was hardly necessary, perhaps, to add all the _fioritura_ of Moorish architecture to a building intended for studies that call for no flourish of trumpets; still, there is something about these fanciful lines which harmonises agreeably enough with the natural arabesques of the prodigal learage. The institute aims at supreme perfection, and supplies having been furnished without stint, the results place it beyond comparison. Vast laboratories, comfortable studies, fitted up with all the latest appliances; operating-rooms for animals, with the most complete surgical outfits, disinfecting-rooms, vacuum machinery; lifts everywhere, gas, electricity, pipes for water and for compressed air; library and magazine-room, with all foreign periodicals properly classified; separate buildings for the study of infectious diseases and the preparation of the corresponding serum. Each building has its own stable, so constructed as to be readily sterilised, with boxes permitting a close watch over the animal as well as feeding him without opening the door; and its own hall for experiments and laboratory, a furnace to destroy all refuse, electric generating engines, etc. A group of young Brazilian _savants_ were at work under the guidance of Dr. Oswaldo Cruz and two German bacteriologists. One of them, Dr. Chagas, a Brazilian, is well known in the world of science for his studies in bacteriology and parasitology. There is an immense field open, for tropical diseases are still uncharted, whilst in the field of marasitic diseases of men and animals there is fully as much to learn. The _Mémoires de l'Institut de Manguinhos_ are published in Portuguese and in German. I was struck by the effort that the Germans are making to draw towards themselves the medical corps of the country. The heads of the laboratories and their assistants had all been brought from Germany, and their scientific method had been cordially accepted. At the Berlin Exhibition a first prize had justly been awarded to the Manguinhos Institute. Of late years two French _savants_, MM. Marchoux and Salimboni, of the Pasteur Institute, have been charged by the Brazilian Government with a mission to study yellow fever. To-day two of our army veterinaries are investigating the _morve_ at Rio. But it is time to leave the abode of the Mosquito Killer (_mata mosquitos_), as Dr. Cruz is nicknamed. The sun is mounting above the horizon. In the enchanting light of the bay there are now revealed to our gaze the serrated outlines of the soft shores where the intensely profuse vegetation runs riot, the glowing masses of bare rock which rise high above the water to meet the sun against the filmy background of the distant mountains, and, lastly, the islands with their rippling masses of rich verdure, which spring skywards like an offering from the sea. Impossible to pass the Island Viana by in silence. On the neighbouring island Señor L----, the descendant of a French family, has set up his dockyards for naval construction, which he took us to see with a modesty that was not without a point of legitimate pride. I shall not describe what is well known. There was a surprise in store for us, however, in the form of a colony of Japanese labourers working in wood and metal, and learning in this distant land a trade to be practised later in their own. Most diligent of workmen, remarkable by their gravity and steady application. Amongst them, tool in hand, one of those small boys whose oblique eyes we have learned to know by heart through the picture-albums of Nippon; dumb, motionless, the whole of his mind concentrated with intense force on the work in hand, this child of some ten years is taking a demonstration lesson in technical work that, as you see by his attitude, he is determined to profit by. I would rather have seen these little chaps playing at ball. I seem to see them as they show themselves to us, gathering up all their powers, even at the threshold of life, in order to take possession of the future. I was told that in the evening schools they accomplish wonders. The day's work ended, Señor L---- crossed a short arm of the sea and landed in his own island of Viana, where he has laid out a large park which at the same time satisfies his love of the beautiful and of comfort. Each member of the family has a house to him- or herself--and what a house!--English, or perhaps American in style, with the finest supply of light and air provided by great bay windows opening upon that immense expanse of sea framed in beflowered shores and broken by high blue peaks which lose themselves in the sky. Kitchen-gardens, flowery meadows, lawns, groves, woods--there is nothing wanting, and each in turn is planted in the best possible way to take advantage of the splendours of the views. And to make Viana a world in itself, all the loveliest birds of Brazil are to be found in this earthly paradise; and the supreme magnificence of the Brazilian types of winged and feathered creatures repays in beauty what man's munificent generosity daily distributes. Here within reach of my hand a large yellow bird is pouring out its mad and merry song, while two toucans, with their exaggerated beaks, light up with gold and clear sapphire hues the sober green of the thicket. I pretend to try to catch them; they barely feign a retreat. Eden before the Fall! I congratulate Señor L---- on the artistic way in which he spends the money he succeeded in making in business--two talents that are seldom found together. "It is all very well," he murmured in reply, "but you see what happens. My wife prefers Paris, and my children, who might have found here, at twenty minutes' run from Rio, a worthy occupation for their time, have elected to try their fate in the unknown. My eldest son is in New York. _Ma parole!_ I believe he sells seltzer-water there, or something of the sort. What do you think of that?" I said nothing. But I thought to myself that in the pursuit of happiness not even the most favoured escape some setbacks. FOOTNOTES: [42] In Brazil there are none of the half-houses of the Argentine and Uruguay. The Brazilian eye loves, on the other hand, bright colours. The houses are therefore daubed with blue, yellow, and red, which harmonise as they may with the green background. [43] A sack contains 60 kilogrammes. [44] Like Florida in Buenos Ayres, Ouvidor in Old Rio still remains, notwithstanding its inadequate dimensions, the principal business thoroughfare of the town. [45] The _Flumineuse_ is the native of Rio. There is no excuse for people who, knowing that there is no river in Rio, yet insist on being named after a stream (_flumen_) that is non-existent. [46] The Rio harbour, built by the English for a French company, represented in 1907 eight millions tonnage entered and cleared. [47] The father of Baron de Rio Branco, Minister under the Emperor Dom Pedro II., is the author of the Law of the _Ventre Libre_, which emancipated all slaves to be born in the future. In remembrance of this measure, which preceded the abolition of slavery, a statue has been raised to him in one of the Rio parks. [48] The vote of a senator belonging to the Church party. [49] The Emperor Dom Pedro II. is kindly remembered. Every one speaks of him with respectful sympathy. [50] The Rio press is not so fully equipped for news items as the European or American papers, but it is literary in tone and occupies a worthy place in the Corporation. The largest circulation is claimed by _El Commercio_. The _Imprenso_, whose editor is Alcindo Guanabara, Member of the Brazilian Academy and deputy, is, with _El Pais_, one of the most important party sheets. [51] We must do justice to the effort made by the Brazilian Government to extend education. According to an article in their Constitution, the "unlettered cannot vote," but I will not swear that the rule is severely applied. In each State the primary schools are supported by the municipalities and States themselves, as are also the training colleges. There are too many calls on the strength of the youth of a new country for secondary education to be very enthusiastically welcomed. On the other hand, the different institutions of higher education attract the rising talent of the land. [52] At Santos, one of the most severely tried, yellow fever was entirely stamped out by the building of the quays, which drained off the marshes. CHAPTER XIII BRAZILIAN SOCIETY AND SCENERY I have already jotted down a few characteristics that struck me in the people of Brazil, and these will form a sort of prelude to what I am now about to say. For a traveller who claims to convey only first-hand information, the difficulty, of course, is to make any definite statements when aware that his observations were all too hasty and brief to warrant generalities. Brazilian society is very different from that of the Argentine, its elements being more distinct and more complex, while equally European in trend, and with the same immutably American base; the strain of French culture is more attenuated, the impulsive temperament more apparent, but for steady perseverance and capacity for hard work the Brazilians cannot be surpassed. In criticising the social conditions in Brazil, it must be borne in mind that the abolition of slavery dates only twenty years back. I do not think the slave-owner was systematically cruel, but slavery does not precisely rest on any inducement to kindliness. Certain buildings that I came across and the explanation of their use that was given to me showed plainly enough, what we already knew, that the blacks were treated like cattle, with just as much consideration as was dictated by self-interest. Since man is almost as humane as he is cruel, no doubt the masters had their benevolent moments, but the institution was, nevertheless, fully as demoralising for owners as owned. The blacks multiplied, however,[53] and if the abolition of slavery was not accompanied here as in the United States by acts of violence, the reason is that, to the everlasting honour of the white man, the institution had been universally condemned before emancipation was proclaimed. It has been said that in Brazil slavery was buried beneath flowers. The fact is it had become practically impossible when its disappearance was publicly and officially acknowledged. And as, happily, there was no race hatred between whites and blacks, these two elements of the population were able to continue to live peaceably side by side in a necessary collaboration. They went farther than this, as a matter of fact, and the races mixed with a freedom that I noticed everywhere. From the point of view of social concord, this is cause for rejoicing, while it must be left to time to correct any lowering of the intellectual standard. Every one knows that the principal feature of a slave-owning community is the absence of a middle class whose mission it must be to hold the balance in an oligarchy and prepare the way for the emancipation of the oppressed. When the principle of democracy was proclaimed by the "big whites" of Brazil, they could rely for support only on the leading intellectuals of sound general education, and on the inorganic masses of the population formed or deformed morally by slavery, and its attendant evils, with an incoherent admixture supplied by immigration. This, necessarily, was the situation that had to be faced on the morrow of the decree of emancipation. By degrees this state of affairs has been and is still being improved. The substratum of the community remains, however, such as I have shown it. I am aware, of course, that in this immense territory there are vast districts of varying soil and climate where Indians and blacks are very unequally divided. For the purposes of this brief summary, I am naturally only taking into account representative centres of population. In some parts the negroes have deserted the plantations for the towns to which they were attracted by the opportunities for employment, and their place has been taken by Italian colonies who have established themselves as small farmers. Elsewhere the ex-slaves remained in their cabins and continued their accustomed tasks with more or less zeal, content if thus enabled to live as they liked. They appear to work and live in perfect harmony with their former owners. As regards the social _élite_, it is less easy to pick out its general features here than it is in the Argentine, where on every hand there are visible points of comparison with Europe. We are constantly obliged to revert to our starting-point, which is a feudal oligarchy, the centre of culture and refinement, which by a voluntary act is in process of formation into a single heterogeneous mass without any jarring of racial relations. For a long time the Empire preserved a nucleus of aristocracy of which only a vestige remains to-day. There might now be a danger of submersion beneath an inferior intellectual element which lacks the powerful bias towards higher education peculiar to the Brazilian mind. It is necessarily this element which will prove the salvation of the country. It is on his plantation (_fazenda_), in the centre of his influence, that we must seek the planter (_fazendero_). Of a highly refined theoretical feudalism, deeply imbued with European ways of thinking, and with the generous social standards that distinguished, at one time, our own eighteenth-century aristocracy, sublimely unconscious--and destined probably to remain so--of the first spasmodic movements of forces whose evolution towards a new order implies confusion at the outset, he is infinitely superior to the generality of his kind in Europe, who are either the product of tradition or the outcome of democratic circumstance. He leads the broad and simple life of the large landowner in a land whose soil offers every inducement to try fresh experiments. Everywhere within you will notice evidences of his search for the Beautiful and his thirst for knowledge. And everywhere without you will see the convincing proofs of his endless activity. In Paris one of these influential men may pass unnoticed, so little does he resemble his prototype as invented by satirists, with his modesty of speech and simplicity of bearing. He would, however, repay a closer study, and when he comes among us to obtain fresh force for his strenuous task, I should like to see some of our young men seize the opportunity to improve themselves by paying him a visit. All these social forces have a natural tendency to form themselves into groups. But the Brazilian planter, like other feudal survivals in Europe, is exposed to the attack of every modern commercial and industrial force that is tempted to wield some sort of social authority. This is now the base of all communities--in Rio, in Saint Paul, or in any other city of the world. A reception on extremely Parisian lines given by Senator Azeredo, assisted by Señora Azeredo, proved once again how strong is the likeness between circles that believe themselves to be utterly different. A single telegram suffices to give uniformity to the toilettes of all the women in the world, and if those to be seen in Señora Azeredo's _salons_ were less extravagant than some Parisian examples, Rio struck me as being quite as eager as Paris in its pursuit of beauty's adornments. Shall I mention that Brazilian women have large black eyes, which seem to ask a thousand questions, usually pale complexions, sometimes of a golden bronze tint, that they are vivacious in speech and take a delight in conversational tourneys? Señores Pinhero Machada and Guanabara were kind enough to give me an invitation that enabled me to see a little more of some of their politicians. Señor Pinhero Machada has a house that is built among the palm-trees on a height that commands the whole of the bay. I confess that in this enchanting place I was more tempted to open my eyes than my ears; still, in spite of the counter-attractions of the lovely landscape, I managed to study the mysteries of Brazilian politics a little more closely, and, as I had begun to do at Señor Guanabara's, to realise that reasons for union are and will remain predominant providing that the question of personalities does not obtrude. How shall I fail to speak of the ball given in commemoration of the Independence of Chile, where I had the pleasure of meeting the flower of Rio society together with the representatives of all the foreign Powers? I should only give it a passing mention were it not that the President of the Republic, who opened the ball in person, had conceived the idea of inviting me to form one of the official quadrille, with the thought, of course, of paying a compliment to my country. When the excellent Prefect of Rio announced this decree of public authority, I believed a catastrophe was imminent, and did not hesitate to impart my fears to his charming wife, who declared herself ready to go under fire by my side. The worst of it was that I had before me the mocking eyes of the papal nuncio with whom I had just shaken hands, and I could see that he was far from wishing me success in the perilous career on which I was about to embark. Timidly, I broke it to my partner that it was over fifty years since I had danced a quadrille, and she returned my confidence by acknowledging that her education as regards the art of dancing had been totally neglected. The great fat man in scarlet, whose ring was large enough to boil an egg in, found our predicament vastly amusing. I saw myself about to become the scandal of Christianity. Uniting our ignorance, my partner and I took up our positions and arranged to imitate to the best of our ability the movement that might be suggested by the music to the youthful couple that formed our _vis-à-vis_. Thereupon, the orchestra, a piano and some other instrument, began to play, and we saw that the charming young couple on whom we relied were obviously waiting for us to set the example. What was to be done? I looked at my neighbours. They could not agree. One advanced, the other retired. The President of the Republic tried to encourage the rest of us by getting himself into hopeless muddles. I soon saw that all we needed to do was to tread on the toes of our neighbours and then bow our apologies, to begin again immediately the same manoeuvre. This I accomplished, to the great disappointment of the scarlet man, who was obliged to give a wry smile at the spectacle of the grace I managed to display in the service of my country. I should have liked to see the theatres. Time was lacking. I saw only a performance of _The Daughter of the Regiment_, given in Italian at the Lyric Theatre, formerly the principal play-house of Rio under the Empire. The Imperial box was placed at my disposal and proved to be a veritable apartment, furnished in the style of Louis Philippe. I was told it had been kept unchanged. The Municipal Theatre, practically a copy of our own opera-house, is one of the finest buildings in the Brazilian capital, its only fault being that it swallowed up too many of the public millions. On the ground floor there is a very luxurious restaurant containing a faithful copy in glazed bricks of the frieze _The Immortals_, brought by M. and Mme. Dieulafoy from Suez and now in the Louvre. Here the French colony gave a dinner in my honour. A certain number of statesmen accepted the invitation of my compatriots, and thus I had the great pleasure of assuring myself by my own ears of the friendly relations that exist between French and Brazilians. At one time we had a very important colony in Rio. For reasons that are not too clear to me, it has dwindled away of late. I found, however, at the reception held by the French Chamber of Commerce that if lacking in quantity, the quality of these French representatives left nothing to be desired. The natural affinity between the two peoples is so obvious that the multiple attractions of this great and beautiful country are for French people enhanced by the joy of a genuine communion of thought and feeling which links their hopes and aims. To my intense satisfaction, I had a proof of this at my first contact with the public of Rio, and the same experience was pleasantly renewed later at Saint Paul; I found that I could speak with the utmost freedom as a Frenchman to Frenchmen, for there was not the smallest suggestion of a foreign element in the mind of my audience to remind me to adapt myself to new susceptibilities. I know not how adequately to thank my audiences for what in French eyes appeared the supreme gift of a spontaneous manifestation of French mentality. The Academy of Medicine were good enough to invite me to pay them a visit, and I will freely confess that a consciousness of my unworthiness made me hesitate to face this learned assembly. On this point they reassured me by declaring that the meeting would be merely in honour of French culture. I went accordingly, and scarcely had we exchanged our first greetings when I already felt myself at home in a French atmosphere. Medical science being out of the question, the delicate fare offered to me was some reflections on the general philosophy of science, as developed by the magnificent intellectual labour of France, and on the powerful lead given to the activities of civilisation by our country. Could anything be more encouraging than this disinterested acceptance of the testimony of history, considering how many there be who would exalt themselves at the expense of France? A very different atmosphere awaited me at the Bangu factories, where are admirable spinning and weaving mills; here the raw Brazilian cotton is transformed into those printed stuffs of vivid colourings in which the working classes love to drape themselves and thus supply a feast for our eyes. Here there were fewer abstract terms employed to declare the esteem so freely accorded to France. But here, as in other parts of the great Republic, I found the few brief words uttered in private encounters still more convincing than the noisier demonstrations. Wherever the work of social evolution is being carried on, wherever there is seen a fine promise for the future, their it is a joy for the French to find the name of their country associated with the forward movement. The splendid industrial development of Bangu among many other similar centres shows what is being done in Brazil in this direction. I have seen nothing more striking in Europe. The Brazilians possess in an equal degree with the Argentinos the capacity of bringing to the highest possible perfection any work to which they set their hand. I have already said that in Brazil our laws for the protection of industrial and agricultural labourers are unknown. Not but what politicians have studied the matter. But in the imperfectly centralised organisation of all these floating authorities, it is difficult to see how such laws, if voted, could be effectually applied. All the more credit is therefore due to the large employers of Brazilian labour who have done their best to improve the material condition of their hands without waiting to be compelled to do so. The working population of Bangu is scattered about the country in _chalets_ that appear to be admirably hygienic, and all wear the aspect of the finest of physical and moral well-being. A large building has been provided for meetings of all kinds and a theatre in which the hands may amuse themselves with theatricals and concerts. It is unnecessary to state that we were received to the strains of the _Marseillaise_ and that the French Republic was vigorously cheered. I do not go so far as to say that there were no dark sides here or elsewhere to the picture. I have not concealed the fact that immigrants complain loudly of the want of supervision from which they suffer in some regions. It seems fair to infer from what has already been accomplished that more is being attempted. It is naturally the farmer on the _fazendas_ who receives the most attention because he is the deep and almost inexhaustible source of the national wealth. It would appear that there are no limits to the productiveness of this soil, whose fertility has been developed and renewed during so many centuries by the combined action of sun and rain. Side by side with the barbarism of slavery there has been a barbarous system applied to the land, which has resulted in its impoverishment. Now the relation between production and fertilisation has come prominently forward. There is still, however, much virgin land that awaits the farmer. The real problem of a rational system of agriculture to be applied in Brazil will be left for a future generation. Meantime, their finest forests are burning and filling the horizon with smoke. This represents what the Brazilians call "clearing" the land. But the Brazilian forests deserve a volume, not a paragraph, or chapter--and its writer should be both learned and a poet. I did not visit the fairylike regions of the Amazon, but however amazing they may be, I think they could scarcely surpass the powerful impression made on me by the forests of Saint Paul. There is a limit to our nervous receptivity, beyond which point we become insensible to sensation. We in Europe have dwelt amid a beautiful harmony of the forces of Nature which have moulded all our impressions in a certain form of beauty; to find fault with them would be sacrilege, since the highest inspirations of art have been drawn from this source. Thus, consciously or not, we have lived in an equilibrium of pleasing emotions, that imposes on us certain limitations of sensation to be derived from the spectacle that Nature provides. Therefore, when we are suddenly confronted with an unknown Nature, whose power and vigour shatter all our preconceived notions, and alter the whole focus of our organs, the only possible effect at first is one of complete bewilderment. We must take time to get used to this new order of sensations before we expose ourselves to another and get back again to the standpoint of a corresponding sense of æsthetics. I had to endure several headaches before I could rise to the level of the genius of Berlioz or Wagner. What if we compared our own landscape with the music of Gluck or Mozart? Then you may grasp the Wagnerian fury of the virgin forests which produce a stupefaction that leaves you incapable of analysis and a prey to a tumult of superlatives. And all this happens simply because we have been exposed to the shock of a higher manifestation of the terrestrial forces of the world. The Botanical Gardens of Rio are famous the world over. The astounding forms of foliage, the bold growth of ancient tree and young shoot, the illimitably dense profusion of every form of vegetable life, recalling what must have been the earliest stage of the life of our planet, reduced me to a state of speechless surprise. I promised myself a second visit to its marvels, but never accomplished this, for spectacles of even greater magic detained me elsewhere. "Bon Vista," the Emperor's country house in a suburb of Rio, is surrounded by a fine park which is going to be turned into a public garden. The _Flumineuses_ make frequent pilgrimages thither, with their families, to spend a day in the shade of its trees during the hot season. But, to tell the truth, while they in this way enjoy Europeanising themselves in artificially made gardens, I took a delight in drinking in the Americanisation that awaits you in the outposts of the young Corcovado forest, which seems to be advancing to the attack of urban civilisation and pursues man even in the very streets of Rio. This urban forest is one of the charms of the Brazilian capital. It clasps the city in its powerful embrace and seems determined to drive back the population into the sea, whence it sprang, creeping insidiously into every open space, blending with the avenues, spreading over squares and parks, and everywhere declaring the triumph and victory of the first force of Nature over the belated but redoubtable energy of humanity. Trees, creepers, ferns, shrubs--all these forms seem to be mounting to the heights that crown the bay in order to draw from the sunshine a renewal of their vigour. The high peak of the Corcovado (over 2000 feet) that broods over the city, looms large on the horizon, and one can readily believe that the first thought of the invader was to climb that height and survey the marvellous panorama before him. Unlike the Galilean, he needed no tempter to sow in his mind the desire of possession. But, alas! the task of appropriation is not accomplished without encountering some obstacles, and the would-be mountain climber is forced to concentrate his attention on one spot of the planet that holds him in the grip of an irresistible attraction. A funicular railway performs this office for him; and with no more trouble than that of letting yourself be drawn up under the branches, you suddenly emerge on a height whence you get a magic vision of Rio, with her bay, her islets, and a mass of mountains heaped one upon the other, until they are finally swallowed up in the sea. A new world is here revealed to your gaze--a world in which the whole miracle of the earth's multiple aspects is epitomised, where the eternal play of light and shade constitutes an ever-changing picture that creates a world-drama in inanimate Nature. Are you surprised to meet some Parisians up here? No, not much. The first result of our industrial equipment is to diminish the proportions of the globe. It is easier to-day to go from one continent to another than it used to be to go from one village to the next. I am personally glad of this, for nothing could be better for us French people than to travel in foreign countries, since in this way we get a standard of comparison that we badly need. Coming down from the Corcovado, you must stop at "Silvestre," whence a shady path cut in the mountainside will bring you back to the city, through a wilderness of wood where a profusion of parasitic growth covers the boughs, tying them up in a mad confusion of tendrils. Next after the Corcovado the Tijuca will attract you, and, like the former, it ends in wondrous points of view. In this case the pleasure is in getting there. You pass now through lines of tall bamboos, whose light foliage meets overhead; now you follow the course of a noisy waterfall that seethes amid the verdure of the forest; anon you descend into a valley that is shaded by the fresh and delicate foliage of the banana-trees, or rise to the top of a hill from which all the indentations of the great bay are plainly visible, and a small gulf hidden in an avalanche of rocks and boulders lies revealed, where the mysterious waters sob and vanish on a bed of flowers. Ever onward, the motor-car pursues its headlong way at a speed one longs to check. Often we stop to prolong the pleasure of a moment, but if one did not take care one might stop for ever. The pen is powerless to convey what, perhaps, the brush might reveal--the joy of life that swells to bursting the sap of every twig and leaf, every flower and fruit, from the humblest blade of grass to the loftiest extremity of the tallest trees, and renders so impressively active every organ of the vegetable world. I remember pausing before a simple creeper which had produced some billions of blossoms, and had imprisoned a whole tree in a kind of tent of blue flames. This example alone will serve to give the measure of the tropical fecundity. The object of our drive was the "Emperor's Table" and "China Street." After the view from the Corcovado this seemed less grandiose, but in any other country of the world it would arouse a rapture of admiration. We returned to the city by another route, traversing a part of the mountain where rows of villas embowered in flowers seemed hung up half-way between sky and sea. You are back in Rio before you realise that you have left the forest. It is impossible to speak of Rio without mentioning Petropolis, which owes its success to the yellow-fever mosquito. The _Flumineuses_ formed the habit of migrating to this mountain station in order to escape from the attacks of the plague-carrying mosquito, which is so active after sunset. A well-founded fear of the scourge drove all those who could afford it out of Rio, and at their head were the Emperor--later the President of the Republic, the Ministers, and diplomatists, with their families. Thus Petropolis, an hour's journey from Rio, became in some sort a fashionable watering-place, whose charming villas stand in a forest of tropical gardens. It is a delightful spot for all who can turn their back on the business of the outside world, which seems, indeed, far enough away. For this reason the European diplomatists spend long days here, filled with visiting, excursions (there are many charming ones to be made from this centre), or the idle gossip that constitutes that work is lacking; but we know that everywhere custom is stronger than utility, and custom is very exacting. Now that the mosquito has deserted Rio the Government has settled in the capital, leaving the mountain station to the diplomats and their papers. How can diplomacy exist without a Government round which to "circumlocutionise"? For the smallest formality one must take the train. Coming back in the evening is fatiguing. One goes to the hotel for the night. Your friends take possession of you, and while you are dawdling in Rio all your correspondence is lying unanswered at Petropolis. There is, in consequence, a strong feeling now that "the diplomats ought to settle at Rio," near to the Baron de Rio Branco, who somehow invariably manages to be at Rio when they are at Petropolis and _vice versa_, just to upset our worthy "plenipotentiaries." All this is not done without a certain expenditure of money. Budget commissioners, beware! Theresopolis is another mountain station, three hours from Rio. On the opposite shore of the bay a railway climbs or winds round the lower slopes, cutting its way through the forest as far as a vast plateau, whence radiates a number of paths that invite you to wander amongst the astonishing phenomena of this fiercely abundant vegetation. A "circus" of bare rocks bristles with pointed peaks, one of which, bearing some resemblance to the forefinger of a human hand, is known as "the Finger of God." Whichever way you bend your steps this formidable and imperious finger lifts itself against the horizon, as if tracing the path of the planets through the heavens. The beauty of Theresopolis lies in its madly bounding torrents, which leap the giant boulders heaped up in its course, ruthlessly destroying the green growths that make a daily struggle for life. For me this giant strife provides an incomparable spectacle. I confess that the series of forest panoramas that open out on either side of the railway, from Rio Bay to Theresopolis, give a magic charm to the day's excursion. Tall ferns raised against the sky the transparent lacework of a light parasol, monstrous bamboos threw into the mêlée their long shoots, shaped like green javelins; shrubs, both slender and stout, and of every kind of leafy growth, encroach upon the heavy branches, worn out with the weight of parasites; the creepers twined like boas round their supports, flinging back from the crest of the highest trees a wealth of fine tendrils that, on reaching once again their native earth, will there take fresh root and draw renewed force for the future fight with fresh resistances, a single one of the family, with leaves like a young bamboo, so fine that the stalk is well-nigh invisible, entirely shrouding a whole tree in its frail yet stubborn network, transforming it into a green arbour that would put to shame any to be found in our ancient and classic gardens--all these and many other aspects of the marvellous forest arouse an unwearying and never-ending admiration, mingled with wonder at the blows dealt on a battlefield of opposing forces where the weapons are none the less deadly for being immovable. There is no forest to be seen on the road from Rio to Saint Paul. Here man has passed. On all sides are visible the signs of destruction wrought by systematic fires. Thanks to Señor Paul de Frontin, the Company's manager, and two friends of whom I shall have occasion to speak again later--Señores Teixera Soarès and Augusto Ramos--I made the journey under the best possible conditions. The great point was to see the country as we passed. Could any better way be imagined than that of placing the locomotive behind the coach, which was arranged like a _salon_, its front wall being taken away and replaced by a simple balcony? With rugs to guard against the freshness of the breeze, you find yourself comfortably installed in the very centre of a landscape whence you may see mountains, rivers, valleys, fleeing before you in the course of a run of five hundred kilometres. For the whole of the day I was able to drink in the fresh air and strong lights, as I looked out eagerly to discover new beauties. As a matter of fact, I saw nothing but mountains and hillsides that had been wantonly despoiled of their native vegetation. Here and there a small banana-wood growing in a crevice showed the proximity of the cabins of negro colonists and their offspring, who displayed in the sunlight the unashamed bronze nakedness for which none could blush. They were leading the nonchalant life of the farmer who expects to draw from the earth the maximum of harvest for the minimum of trouble. Whether under cultivation or lying waste, at this time of the year the land presented the same appearance of bare wildness. Sometimes on the top of a hill there would be seen one of the old plantations surrounded by walls built to imprison the slaves, or coffee-gardens, now abandoned because the soil was worn out for want of dressing, or long stretches of pale green denoting young rice crops, watercourses dashing over rocks and gliding through brushwood--the last resort of the birds,--vestiges of calcined forests where the new growth of vegetation eager to reach the sun was ever cut back and repressed; and everywhere flashes of red light that resolve themselves into birds, shuddering palpitations of blue flames that become butterflies, or the bronzed reflections of phosphorescent light that reveals a dancing cloud of hummingbirds. On the horizon spots of black smoke, betokening forests that are blazing in all parts to make way for future harvests--a melancholy spectacle of a wanton destruction of natural beauties that has not even the excuse of necessity, since the splendid forests are only attacked to save the trouble of fertilising the land exhausted by cultivation. I was told that at the first outbreak of fire the great birds of carrion come up in flocks to cut off the retreat of the monkeys and serpents that flee in terror. I did not witness this part of the tragedy, but I was near enough to see all the horror of the fearful flare. In the crackling of the burning palms, in the whirling clouds of blinding smoke furrowed with a sinister glow, boughs and branches lay heaped up on the ground in immense flaming piles, through which the charred stumps of boles, brought low by fire, crashed noisily to earth, where their corpses lay and slowly smouldered to ashes on the morrow's coffee plantation in accordance with the law of Nature, which builds fresh forms of life out of the decomposed elements of death. At nightfall, we entered the station of Saint Paul, where the cheers of the students, loudly acclaiming the French Republic, made us a joyous welcome. A few minutes later we found ourselves at a banquet attended apparently by representatives of every country of the world, and Brazilians and Frenchmen here united to express their brotherly aspirations in words of lofty idealism. The city of Saint Paul (350,000 inhabitants) is so curiously French in some of its aspects and customs that for a whole week I had not once the feeling of being abroad. The feature of Saint Paul is that French is the universal language. Saint Paul's society is supposed to be more markedly individual than any other community in the Republic, and it offers this double phenomenon of being strongly imbued with the French spirit, and, at the same time, of having developed those personal traits that go to make up its determining characteristics. You may take it for granted that the Paulist is Paulist to the very marrow of his bones--Paulist in Brazil as well as in France or any other land; and then tell me if there was ever a man more French in courtesy, more nimble in conversation in his aristocratic guise, or more amiable in common intercourse, than this Paulist business man, at once so prudent and so daring, who has given to coffee a new valuation. Talk a little while with Señor Antonio Prado, Prefect of Saint Paul, and one of the leading citizens, whose mansion, set in the frame of a marvellous park of tropical vegetation, would be a thing of beauty in any country, and tell me whether such elegant simplicity of speech could imaginably express any but a French soul. The same might be said of his nephew, Señor Arinos de Mello, of whom I have already spoken, a clever man of letters who divides his life between the virgin forest and the boulevard, and who might easily be taken for a Parisian but for a soft Creole accent. Frenchmen basking in Brazilian suns, or Brazilians drinking deep of Latin springs--what matter by which name we know them, so that their pulses beat with the same fraternal blood! The fact that the Paulist character has been strongly developed along lines of its own and that the autonomy of Brazilian States permits of the fullest independence of productive energy within the limits of federal freedom has led some to draw the hasty conclusion that there is a keen rivalry between the different provinces, and to see separatist tendencies where there exists nothing but a very legitimate ambition to forward a free evolution under the protection of confederated interests. The States of Saint Paul and Rio stand at the head of the confederation, both by reason of their intellectual superiority and by their economic expansion, and the steady increase of their personal weight in the federation is naturally in proportion to the influence they have succeeded in acquiring in the exercise of their right to self-government. As no one seeks to infringe any of their prerogatives, and as the only criticism one might make would be that certain States are at present unfit to fulfil all the duties of government, while any attempt at separatism must tend to weaken each and all, no serious party, either at Saint Paul or Rio, or, indeed, in any other province, would even consent to discuss the eventuality of a slackening of the federal tie. The Paulists are and will ever remain Paulists, but Brazilian Paulists. My first visit was paid to the head of the government of Saint Paul, who extended to me the most generous of hospitality. Señor Albuquerque Lins, President of the State, received me in the presence of his Ministers--Señor Olavo Egydio de Souza, Minister of Finance; Señor Carlos Guimaraès, Minister of the Interior; Señor Washington Luis, Minister of War; and Señor Jorge Tibiriça, who had just vacated the Presidential Chair, and was one of the most distinguished statesmen of Saint Paul. Señor Augusto Ramos and our Vice-Consul, M. Delage, whose tact, intelligence, and wide understanding of his duties are above all praise, were also present on the occasion. The President, who had an exaggerated opinion of the defects of his French, managed to convey to me in excellently worded phrases his warm sympathy for France, which, indeed, he proved by his cordial reception of us. I, in my turn, assured him of the fraternal sentiments of France for Brazil and Brazilian interests in general, as also for Saint Paul and Paulist society in particular. And then, as though to prove that our compliments were not merely those demanded by etiquette, the conversation turned upon matters in which Saint Paul and France were so mixed that the Paulist seemed to take as much pleasure in acclaiming France as did the Frenchman in expressing his admiration for the stupendous work carried out by the Paulists with such giddy rapidity, in developing a modern State that founds its hopes for the future on the miracles accomplished in the past. It was a joy to me to run about the city at haphazard. You do not ask from Saint Paul the stage-setting furnished by Rio; yet there is no lack of the picturesque. The suburbs of Saint Paul, where costly villas make bright spots of colour in the gorgeously beflowered gardens, can offer some fine points of view. At the end of an esplanade bordered with trees the plateau suddenly falls away into a gentle valley which would seem admirably designed for the site of a park, worthy the ambitions of Saint Paul if the authorities would but set about it while the price of land is still moderate. The only public garden at present owned by the town is a pretty promenade that can scarcely be considered as more than a pleasant witness to a modest past. In the course of our walk we came upon the museum, which stands on the hill, from which the independence of Brazil was proclaimed. It contains fine zoölogical, botanical, and paleontological collections. I was shown moths of more than thirty centimetres in breadth of wing, and hummingbirds considerably smaller than cockchafers. I paused for an instant before the cases containing relics of prehistoric America, with utensils, ornaments, and barbaric dresses of the aboriginal Indians who to-day are sadly travestied in abbreviated breeches and remnants of hard felt hats. There was no time to visit the schools, to whose improvement the Paulist Government attaches high importance. I promised, however, to call at the Training College, and, indeed, could scarcely have done less, since this marvellous institution would be a model in any country of Europe. I can but regret that I am unable to lead the reader through the building to see it in all its details--its rooms for study, its gardens, its workshops. The young Headmaster, Señor Ruy de Paula Souza, who was a pupil at our Auteuil College, does his professors the greatest credit and does not conceal his ambition to surpass them. A much too flattering reception was given me, in the course of which I had the surprise of hearing quotations from some of my own writings introduced into a speech made by one of the professors. France and French culture received a hearty ovation. The warmth of the welcome given me at Saint Paul could only be outdone by Rio. The charm of a hearty expansion of fraternal feeling was added to the cordiality of the demonstrations in honour of our country. The pleasure felt when members of the same family meet after separation, and find their mutual affection has been generously developed in the course of life's experience--this was the impression made on me by the greeting of the students both at the Training College and at the Law Schools, where one of the young men delivered a speech in excellent French that formed the best of introductions to the lecture that followed. In the evening the same young men organised a torchlight procession. I stood at a window with a French officer on either side of me. A moving speech was made to me by a student who stood on the balcony of the house opposite. The procession passed by to the strains of the _Marseillaise_, amid a tumult of hurrahs, in honour of France. I mentioned two French officers. There is here now a French Military Mission, to whom has been entrusted the training of the police force, whose duty it will be to ensure order in the State of Saint Paul. Colonel Balagny, who is in command, was away on furlough. Lieutenant-Colonel Gattelet, who takes his place, is a highly deserving soldier, who appears to combine strict discipline with the national urbanity. I observed with satisfaction that the Mission was very popular at Saint Paul. When the march of the _Sambre-et-Meuse_ rang out a crowd assembled to watch the passing of the troops with their French officers at their head. Intensely proud of this force, the public takes a delight in cheering them. I was present at a fine review held on the field of manoeuvres at Varzea de Corma. The soldier of Saint Paul would figure creditably at Longchamp, for in precision and regularity of movement he can bear comparison with any. I must add that the Brazilian officers who second the efforts of the Mission are actuated by a zeal that merits a large share of the credit of the results. When I congratulated Colonel Gattelet I felt I ought to inquire whether he had been obliged to have frequent recourse to punishment in order to bring the men to the point at which I saw them. "Punishment!" he said. "I have never had to administer any. I have no right, for one thing; and if I wanted to punish I should have to ask the permission of the Minister of War. But I have never had occasion even to think of such a thing, for all my men are as docile as they are alert and good-tempered." I could only admire. It is true we were discussing a select troop, who enjoy not only special pecuniary advantages but also quarters called by the vulgar name of barracks, but which, for conveniences, hygiene, and comfort, far surpass anything that our wretched budgets ever allow us to offer to the French recruits. FOOTNOTES: [53] It was the custom in many plantations to free any negress who bore six children. The master in such cases had done a good piece of business. CHAPTER XIV BRAZILIAN COFFEE It is not possible to speak of Brazil, still less of Saint Paul, without the coffee question cropping up. The fabulous extension in recent years of the coffee plantations and the crops that have permitted the present extraordinary accumulation of wealth have drawn the attention of the whole world to the Brazilian _fazendas_. Big volumes have been written on the subject, and I gladly refer my readers to them. There they will find all the figures that I as well as another might quote, but I adhere to my intention of leaving to statistics their own special eloquence, and of giving here an account of only such things as my eyes have seen. If you want to inspect the Brazilian coffee plantations you have only to look around you. I can show you the coffee-plant, a shrub between three and five yards in height, which, for foliage and manner of growth, bears a strong resemblance to box. The flower is very like that of the orange-tree, but with a more subtle scent. The fruit, or "cherry," red at first, then of a brownish colour, contains two kernels. The characteristic feature of the coffee-plant is to bear flowers and fruit at the same time, in all stages of maturity, when once the first flowering is over, providing a spectacle that interested me greatly. But under these conditions it follows that at whatever season the harvesting may be carried out the crop is bound to be very unequal in quality. The only rational way to meet the case would be to have several harvests each year, but the cost of the proceeding would not be covered by the difference in the quality obtained. For this reason the _fazendero_ generally makes but one harvest a year, plucking at the same time berries of varying quality, from the small rolled _moka_, which is found on all plants, to the more or less perfect berries destined for the average consumer. Not that the _fazendero_ makes the mistake of placing on the market a mixture of coffee of all qualities. When the berries have been dried in the open air on asphalt floors they are sorted by machinery, and thus seven different kinds are obtained, whose value naturally depends on their quality. But, unhappily, the canny dealers who buy the Brazilian product classified in this way have nothing more pressing to do than to invent fresh combinations, tending to increase their own profits but, at the same time, to ruin our palates. Here we have the Bercy mysteries of wine adulteration imported into the coffee market! We need not be surprised, therefore, to learn that to some palates coffee is only drinkable when mixed with chicory, with burnt fig, or roasted oats--the last more especially appreciated by the North American public. The best of it is that at home with us Brazilian coffee bears but an indifferent reputation among the epicures who like only the _moka_ of Santos. I confess that one of the surprises awaiting me in Brazil was to find their common coffee infinitely superior to any we get in our best houses. It is a light beverage, with a subtle, soft scent; and, being easily digested, it does not produce the usual nervous tension that causes insomnia. In the hotels and railway-stations of Brazil a cup of coffee is a perfect joy, not only for its delicacy of flavour but also for its immediate tonic effect, and cannot be compared with the article offered in similar places at home. The cups certainly are smaller than ours, but I fancy the average Brazilian drinks quite five or six in a day. It is true I did hear "Brazilian excitability" put down to coffee intoxication, but one would like to know just what this "excitability" amounts to, and, besides, I am not clear that alcoholic countries have a right to take up a critical attitude towards coffee-drinkers. Man in all parts of the world seeks to stimulate his powers, and only succeeds in obtaining temporary results--which have to be paid for later on in one way or another, either by a reaction of debility or by hypersthenic disorders. No one needs to be astonished, then, to find coffee in every mouth, both as a drink and as a topic of daily conversation. If it be true that coffee has made Saint Paul, I can testify that Saint Paul has repaid the debt. The muscles and the brains of the entire population are devoted to the same object. Enormous sums of money are invested in it, large fortunes have been made in it; and when the famous "valorisation" was operated, it looked as if a fearful catastrophe were preparing. This is not the moment to dwell upon the economic conditions of coffee-growing in the States of Saint Paul, Rio, and Minas-Geraes. I shall confine myself to recommending the reader to refer to the excellent book that M. Pierre Denis has published on the subject.[54] As for the "valorisation," a stroke of unparalleled audacity, it consisted in forbidding the laying out of new plantations at a moment when the market was menaced with a glut that seemed likely to bring about a "slump," and in forcing the State of Saint Paul to purchase the whole of the surplus stock--some eight million bags--and hold it until prices had recovered their tone, when the article could be placed gradually on the market at a remunerative figure, the scheme to be executed by means of a financial operation the details of which need not be gone into here. This is a piece of advanced State Socialism which looks like succeeding, contrary to the expectations of the economists, but which it would be highly imprudent to repeat on any pretext. As may be imagined, the scheme aroused the keenest opposition, for in case of failure the risks might have amounted to some hundreds of millions; but it sufficiently denotes the extraordinary mixture of audacity and foresight that belongs to Brazilian statesmen. The perilous honours belong more especially to the President of the State of Saint Paul, M. Tibiriça, and to Señor Augusto Ramos, a planter of the Rio State. As I took a keen interest in the peripatetics of this social drama that threatened to swallow up both public and private fortunes, I naturally desired to visit the great laboratory of the _fazendas_, where modern alchemy transmutes into gold the red earth that contains the mysterious _diabase_ which is the essential element in coffee-growing. A member of the Prado family kindly offered to show us his _fazenda_ at Santa Cruz. The beauties of the landscape were, unhappily, concealed beneath a haze of fine rain, but man, alas! had done worse--for it is a disastrous introduction to the glories of the _fazenda_ to cross smoking tracts of forest on fire. In the distance huge trees were still blazing, around us was a waste of ashes and of half-consumed boughs, and the falling rain seemed only to quicken the dying conflagration. In some of the great green holes were fearful gaping wounds through which the sap was oozing, while some tall trees still stretched to heaven their triumphant crown of foliage above a trunk all charred that would never sprout again. The Brazilians contemplate spectacles such as this with a wholly indifferent eye, and, indeed, even with satisfaction, for they see in the ruin only a promise of future harvests. To me the scene possessed only the horror of a slaughter-house. At least we have the grace to hide ourselves when we massacre innocent beasts, since an implacable law of Nature has decreed that life can only be supported on life. Why can we not hide in the same way the savage destruction of the beauties of the forest? Between two harvests the _fazenda_ is a scene of quiet repose. We witnessed all the different operations--from the drying to the sorting, and to the final departure of the bags to the Santos warehouses. Although our tour of inspection was arranged by the proprietor himself, he was only present on our account. The imposing mansion, the splendid gardens--all were deserted. The Italian colonist has taken the place of the slave. The former master, now the employer, is no doubt attracted towards the city. The overseer looks after the colonists, who are collected into a village, and the labour is organised as it might be in a factory. The families seemed prosperous enough beneath their coating of original dirt. Only babies and pigs were to be seen--scarcely distinguishable the ones from the others, except that the pigs occasionally wallowed in a chance pool. This was risky, however, for the terrible jaws of the crocodile lie in wait on the banks of the neighbouring pond. The coffee plantation furnishes occupation for entire families. Men, women, and children bring equal zeal to bear upon the task of weeding, which has to be repeated five or six times a year. The prolific Italian reaps an advantage from the size of his family. Moreover, plots of land are set apart for him, on which he raises forage for his cattle and the maize, manioc, and black beans on which he lives. Often, too, he gets permission to raise his private crops in the open spaces between the coffee-plants. All the colony is afoot when the time comes to pluck the berries. The Saint Paul growers claim that they have only a single crop, all the berries ripening at the same time. I saw them full of blossom, covered thickly with bouquets of white flowers. But I noticed also in the sorting-rooms a great irregularity in the grains. We walked out to the plantations--vast stretches of red earth in which the shrubs are planted at irregular intervals. Beside the path and amongst the young plants there were great charred branches rotting in the sun, the melancholy remains of forest monarchs laid low a dozen years ago and awaiting final decomposition. Here and there colossal tree-trunks were still erect, though hemmed in on all sides by the green bushes whose monotonous uniformity triumphs over the dethroned sylvan power. Occasionally some forest giant that has escaped by miracle from the flames raises to the sky its splendid stature, sole evidence of past splendours. In the bare flatness of the immense plain covered with the low coffee-plants, where no outstanding feature provides a scale of measurement, it is difficult to realise the real dimensions of these relics. It is only when standing actually beneath a bole that you can estimate its proportions, and a series of "Oh's!" and "Ah's!" of amazement burst from all lips. One of these trees, whose trunk was no less than seventy metres in height, had a girth so immense that eleven men stretching their arms in a circle round it could not entirely span it. I was told that it was worth from two to three thousand francs. There would be some expense attached to getting it to the place where it was wanted. Still, under a gentle sprinkle of rain, that fell like drops of clear light, we proceeded towards the great forest, across which a fair carriage-road has been made. This is not the decaying forest whose timber feeds the factory furnaces, such as that of Santa Ana or of Lulès. This was the forest that had stood for countless centuries, as is shown by Titanesque survivals of those unknown ages, but it remains the forest eternally young, its vital force still unimpaired by time. The grand architectural lines of trunks and boughs, where the sunlight plays tenderly in an unending scale of changing tones upon its depths, offer a feast for the eyes. Creepers entwine themselves among the branches, making a thousand fantastic turns and twists, while slender stems spring like fireworks heavenwards, there to burst into bouquets of rich blossom. Part only of the monstrous tree-trunks are left visible. Beneath its inextricable tangle of boughs the _jequiticaba_, all in white, its spurs and ramparts high enough to conceal a man, rises high above the rest--a Tower of Babel that has escaped the destruction of the others. Yet at our feet there lay a colossus that fell only three days ago, and seemed to point to the final destiny of all earthly glory. It was no tempest that had thus laid it low. Healthy, straight, and tall, it had fallen before it could be weakened by age, simply because the fatality of the action of underground forces crowding upon it from all sides had decreed that it should end then and there. We felt it, measured it, and examined every part of the gigantic corpse, and not one was inclined to quote the assassin of the Duc de Guise--"I thought it larger." No. Lying here at our feet it was no less amazing in its might than it had been in its ephemeral glory. Even in the beauty of death the splendour of life is impressive. In the clearings, where the slender stems of tall palms sway their parasol tops in the wind, flocks of large parrots were busy exchanging opinions as to the reason of our presence; and, if one may judge by the inflections of their cries, they thought it an ill omen. In the patches of blue sky visible between the branches we could see them swirling overhead, uttering loud curses. I had been promised a glimpse of monkeys, but it appears that our cousins retreat before the sound of wheels, and only tolerate--at a safe distance--the company of pedestrians. I thought if I separated from my fellows I might happen on the sight of one or two. Failing a specimen of the _Pithecanthropus erectus_ any little chap on four legs would have found a brotherly welcome. Since none came, why not go after them? But walking is a dangerous pastime, since at every moment one stands a risk of treading on a _trigonocephalus_ concealed in the brushwood, here as high as a man's waist, to say nothing of the fact that there are no landmarks, and that before I had taken a hundred steps I should have hopelessly lost my way. I walked about twenty yards, and that calmed my ardour. I saw neither monkey nor snake. I was not inconsolable, however, for the Brazilian snakes had no mystery for me. I saw them in all their forms collected in a charming little garden which Dr. Vital Brazil has laid out expressly for them at Butantan. The coral serpent, the _trigonocephalus_, the rattlesnake, glide about the grass, climb the bushes whose branches effectually conceal them, or seek the shelter prepared for them in solitary corners. But for the absence of Mother Eve one might fancy oneself in Eden. I must add that a moat full of water, with a wall above, renders impossible the machinations of the Evil One; but I confess I did not go near them, even under these conditions. Dr. Brazil showed them to me in his laboratory, preserved in transparent jars, where the aggressive force of the creeping beast is revealed by means of sectional surgery, and again in the narrow yard of his menagerie; here one alarming-looking reptile after another was fished out of its prison on the end of a stick, and then seized by the throat and forced to choke up its venom into a small glass. You may suppose that in all this Dr. Brazil has some plan. You are right, and it is worth explaining. He is engaged in a quest after a cure for snake-bites, or even perhaps for some way of rendering humanity immune. Brazil and India have a specialty of the most venomous of snakes. Dr. Brazil, who spends his life in their company, declares that even the most deadly species is without hostile feeling for man. No one has ever been attacked by a snake. His poison (I refer to the snake) permits him to paralyse instantaneously the prey destined for his food. But if by mistake you walk on his tail he is carried away by a desire for reprisals. I do not want to argue about it. It is sufficient to state that some hundreds of Brazilians and some thousands of Indians whose pleasure it is to walk barefoot in the forests die annually from the deadly sting of this philanthropist whom they have unwittingly annoyed, notwithstanding the humanitarian opinions of snakes in general. This is the evil for which Dr. Brazil is trying to find a remedy. The Butantan Institute, half an hour distant from Saint Paul, prepares antidiphtheric and antitetantic serums, but its specialty is the antiophidic serum. Dr. Calmette was the first to discover a method of procuring immunity, but the serum of the Lille Institute, prepared from the poison of Indian cobras, proved, in the hands of Dr. Brazil, powerless against the Brazilian rattlesnake. In this way Dr. Brazil made the discovery that each South American species had a special poison, the serum of which took no effect on other poisons. Accordingly, at Butantan three different serums are prepared--two act on special species, and the third, called "polyvalent," is used in cases where the owner of the poison has omitted when stinging his victim to leave his visiting-card and thus establish his identity--the most common case.[55] But Dr. Brazil is not satisfied to cure or render immune those who seek ophidic inoculation. He has discovered a superprovidential serpent, which, having no poison of its own and being invulnerable to the stings of its kind, renders them all innocuous to humanity by eating them. This is the friendly _mussurana_. They offered him to me for inspection, and he looked neither better nor worse than the _trigonocephalus_--I should not at all like to find him in my bed. I tried to coax him, however, to munch a poisonous comrade. He had just breakfasted, and wanted only to sleep. Dr. Pozzi, luckier than myself, had the pleasure of seeing him swallow a certain _jaracaca_, whose slightest caress is deadly. The story has been published in the _Figaro_. How must we regard this phenomenon unless as a freak of Nature? To try to multiply the _mussurana_ in order to exterminate rattlesnakes seems to me a dangerous experiment. Dr. Brazil has not yet succeeded in obtaining a single young one, and for my part I cannot yet see man and the _mussurana_ living in harmony together. As a final surprise, we were informed that Dr. Bettencourt Rodriguez had obtained some excellent results by treating yellow fever with antitoxic serum. The most certain method seems, however, to suppress the mosquito, the propagator of the disease, as Rio and Santos have done. Santos, now a healthy city, is an agreeable place whose only mission is to receive the coffee from Saint Paul and export it to all the continents of the world. We had a brief look at it as we passed, and saw enough to wish to return there. But this time, instead of approaching by sea, we descended upon it from the plateau, 2500 feet in altitude, which shuts the city in with its salt marshes, bounded by mountain and sea, using the famous electric railway which is celebrated throughout the world for the picturesque moving panorama it offers to travellers. From an industrial point of view the port is not equipped to cope with the present traffic, statistics for 1908 showing that 109 ships left its quays, carrying 50 millions of kilogrammes of coffee--three quarters of the total output of the world. As for the Brazilian _floresta_, it is difficult to judge of it at a distance. I was placed on a little balcony in front of the motor, between the Minister of the Interior of Saint Paul and Señor Augusto Ramos, and thus enjoyed an unrivalled point of view, while, at the same time, I was relieved from feeling any excess of heat. Mountains, valleys, forest-clad slopes--it might have been Switzerland or the Pyrenees, and I have assuredly no inclination to belittle either. Yet what a difference from the impression produced by a walk in any part of the forest, where every step lifts you to an ecstasy of admiration. Shall I confess it? The railway stations, melancholy halting-places on the mountain, have left the best souvenir in my mind. In the first place, there were rows of cups of coffee awaiting us there--coffee which revives and refreshes a traveller and perfumes the air with an aroma unknown in Europe. Then, and still better, there were delicate orchids climbing over the verandas, irradiating showers of warm light, and left there out of respect for one of Nature's _chefs d'oeuvre_, for they ill support the fatigue of railway travelling. The orchid season was just beginning when I left Brazil. What I could see of it in the forest, where the earth was piled up with all kinds of decaying vegetation which the marvellous harvest was already preparing, delighted me, for such beauty gains much from being viewed in its natural setting. And in the desolate railway stations, from all these wood chips, there spring sheaves of vivid colours transforming everything, as if the yawning rags of some beggar revealed a fabulously rich treasure. For the Brazilian flora has extraordinary resources. When I crossed the Bay of Santos to take the tramway, which runs in twenty minutes to Guaruja beach, I had no idea that the pleasure of the journey could excel that of my first arrival. The Guaruja beach is extremely fine. It lies in a frame of rocks and forests, and in its fine sands it filters the high waves that rush in from the open sea in magnificent cascades of fury, which suddenly melt away into great rings of pacified foam. But how find words to express the enchantment of the road! The low shores of Santos Bay are but a broad marsh, where a frail vegetation rejected by the forest has full sway. On both sides of the road there is an ever-changing sorcery of leaf and blossom in the most lurid of hues. Not an inch of space between two boughs but is promptly filled by stem, bud, creeper, parasite, and some kind of growth, large or small. Trees that are wasting beneath the cruel tendrils eating into their flesh don a robe of orchids. Cannas make patches of flaming scarlet in the thickest part of the brushwood, and the wild banana-palm lifts a tall head from above the two-cornered spirals of saffron-coloured flowers, which gives an effect like monstrous crustaceans warring with the branches--a wild scene, in which it looks as if all the forces of terrestrial fecundity were convulsed in one impudent spasm. Just as I was closing my visit to Brazil, with great regret at leaving so much unseen, I had accepted an invitation from Señor Teixeria Soarès, the owner of a _fazenda_ in the State of Minas Geraes. Señor Soarès is the manager of a railway company besides being devoted to land and its fruitful joys. Modest and quiet, he tries to efface himself socially, but his methodical and clear mind is attracted by every big problem, and forces him into the front rank of all the different enterprises which are an honour to his country. I was greatly impressed by the way he spoke of his _fazenda_, the management of which he has confided to his son. It was easy to see that he had centred there, if not the best of his energy, at least the highest pleasure that can be derived from the collaboration of man with the soil. When I inquired of one of the _fazenderos_ whether it was true, as Señor Soarès boasted, that he grew the best coffee in Brazil, and obtained for it the highest market prices, I was told that the fact could not be disputed, but that Señor Soarès had the reputation of spending more on his coffee than it could bring in. I could not help fancying the words covered an acknowledgment of inferiority. Idealism, in agriculture as elsewhere, is apt to be costly. It may not, however, exclude the active qualities that make for success. Señor Soarès devotes himself more particularly to the improvement of coffee-plants and the raising of new species. Now it was said that he had got from an horticulturist (of Montmartre) a certain plant with whose fame the world would shortly ring. He wanted me to open the new plantation, and as an ex-Montmartrois, I certainly could not refuse the invitation. I shall say nothing of the journey. As usual, there were miles of forest destroyed by fire. In the villages cabins and colonial houses were scattered about on the river banks amongst great groves of trees. The Parahyba made amends for the melancholy waste of the land by its innumerable rocky headlands, its tree-stems, its islets where a note of beauty was lent by the brilliant plumage of birds. Small, impatient horses were waiting for us at the station, and seated in "_boggies_" that bounded over the deep ruts of the road, we passed through woods where large-leaved creepers made a magnificent stage-setting which only ended in the acropolis of Santa Alda. This rustic baronial hall, that belongs to days of slavery, is set on the summit of an eminence which commands a tangle of valleys, and it offers a comfortable simplicity of arrangement clothed in an avalanche of flowers. Wide verandas, colonnades, arches, are all overgrown with multi-coloured bouquets that are perpetually in flower, and under the rays of the sun distil a delicate ambiance of scented prisms. The impression is one of charm as well as of force, and when the young planter, accompanied by the pleasant queen of the domain with her group of small children, is seen in this background of rustic nobility, you are conscious of a fine harmony between man and Nature. The strains of the _Marseillaise_ burst out, as we crossed the threshold, from instruments concealed in the plantation. It was a greeting to France that was touching enough from these Africans, but yesterday ground down in an odious slavery and to-day the free and light-hearted comrades of a man who by his kindly ways has retained the little colony in a place where the associations must be painful enough. The attraction of the gardens is too strong to be resisted, and we wander out, strolling amidst the clumps of tall, brilliantly coloured plants, anon gazing in rapt admiration at the warm line of the distant hills which hold up against the gorgeous crimson of the sunset a delicate fringe of palm foliage, or watching the hummingbirds which chase each other in the branches and form a dancing cohort of glowing brands. When night fell a golden light pervaded the atmosphere. We did not go in until we had taken a look at the stud, which boasts some of the finest English sires, and we wound up the evening by an amusing performance by an agreeable African conjurer, who gave an explanation in French of all his tricks and was clad in gentlemanly attire--frock-coat, white tie, tan shoes, all the latest style of the _Floresta_. To-morrow, a good hour before sunrise, we are to start for a last visit to the Brazilian forest, and although a heartless doctor has forbidden me riding exercise, I have not the strength of mind to refuse the expedition. They set me accordingly upon a plank, having a high wheel on either side, and soon I taste the joys of football, not as player, but as ball, leaping with its round elasticity heavenwards after a vigorous kick. And the pleasure of bounding upwards is as nothing to the austere sensation of falling back again on the implacable boot sole. In this fashion I was rolled through a series of black holes which I was told would appear in the sunlight to be valleys. As luck would have it, we presently came upon a hill that had to be climbed, and my courser dropped to a footpace. The violent shocks of the earlier part of the journey now gave place to a comparatively simple sensation that suggested an anvil beneath the blows of a hammer. Then the day broke. Señor Soarès, junior, who watched my progress from the back of a tall steed, pointed out his first experiments with rubber-plants and with cocoa, and described his coffee-gardens, of which I had already seen some specimens. The sufferings of the lower part of my person now gave way to the admiration of the higher as I mentally compared the wretched, stunted lives in our cities with the wide freedom of existence led by this high-spirited youth who was wrestling out here in the glorious sunshine with the exuberant forces of a fruitful Nature which he is certain to master in time. O you, my French brethren who in alpaca coats sit eternally on your stools, bent over useless documents, know that the earth has not yet exhausted her gifts, learn that there is another life, free from the anæmic, cramping condition which you know! This thought was still in my mind when we turned our reins across the moors that led to the coffee plantations, where dried palm-leaves protect the young shoots from the heat of the sun, and where the new species derived from a plant grown on the sacred hill of Montmartre-en-Paris is being carefully cultivated. Come out here, young men in shiny threadbare sleeves who make your way homewards nightly to the close dens around the Sacré Coeur; come and see these black coffee-planters--men, women, and children--living close to Nature on the outskirts of civilisation, and compare your own wretched quarters furnished by Dufayel on the "hire" system, that has cost you such anxious moments, with the blissful nudity of these cabins, and tell me where you see the worst form of slavery, here amongst the newly emancipated Africans or at home under your own roofs. The forest! the forest! I have seen it once and again, but I could never tire of it, and my great regret is that I cannot come back again to it. The sun has made its sudden appearance on the scene, glowing like a violent conflagration, and a thousand voices from the winged population of the woods have greeted him, singing the joy of light returned. Everywhere is the same eternal hymn to life. I was shown a small bird whose female dances round her spouse as soon as he begins to pour forth his love serenade in joyous notes. Blue and yellow toucans dazzle us with their splendour. Valleys filled with colossal ferns open out in the daylight their unexpected vistas of a delirious vegetation. I ask after the monkeys. Alas! they do not leave their retreats before two o'clock in the afternoon. They only arrive for five o'clock tea! But for no inducement would they leave their dressing-rooms until the sun has gone down to the horizon. When you have once seen the heart of the forest wilderness, where the same luxuriant life in manifold manifestations is to be seen at your feet and in the high tree and hilltops, where profusely flowering creepers wind themselves around every twig and bough, placing these forest kings in tender bondage, you will not blame the monkeys for being content to remain in their sumptuous domain. I was shown fruit half eaten, the refuse of a monkeys' restaurant. I can well believe it. A wood-cutter told me he was attacked yesterday by a dozen, who were so pertinacious that he had to defend himself with his stick. Thus, though I never saw a monkey, I did see a man who had seen one. At last we reached a waterfall which was, it appears, the limit of our excursion. On our way back we came to a difficult crossing, and as my horse was even more exhausted than myself by the rough treatment he had given me, he was taken out of the shafts, and a swarm of some eleven negroes pulled and pushed me along, with bursts of laughter at their performance. But for their chuckles, I might have fancied myself some Roman victor arriving in triumph. It lasted only ten minutes, but I should have been covered with confusion had some chance cinematograph been on the spot to reproduce the scene. This misfortune was spared me. Thanks to the fact, I take the pleasure of holding myself up to ridicule. The ceremony of inaugurating the Montmartre coffee-plant took place half-way. The operation is less difficult than might be thought. I climbed up a slope from whose top I could see rows of holes, with heaps of coffee-plants, their roots carefully wrapped up, and each in a small basket by itself, lying at intervals over the prepared ground. One of these baskets with its young green stem was offered to me, I stuck it in the first hole that came handy, and thus the glory of Montmartre, like that of Brazil, reached its apogee. I do not know what will become of _my_ coffee enterprise at Santa Alda. It is more certain that Señor Soarès has begun to manure his land instead of merely scattering the shells of the berries over it. It is possible that the Brazilian _fazenderos_ will be a little worried by this example, seeing in it only a way of increasing expenses. But the established fact that Señor Soarès's coffees are in great demand seems a curious coincidence, for no one can suppose he amuses himself in this way for the fun of losing his money. When I left Santa Alda, I carried with me a pretty collection of canes made from the finest woods produced on the _fazenda_, and on board the _Principe Umberto_, which brought me back to Europe, I discovered a chest of coffee, which enabled me to give my kind hosts the authentic testimony of a consumer. The _Principe Umberto_ is in every way like the _Regina Elena_, as indeed she ought to be considering her origin. There are the same comfortable arrangements, the same excellent service, the same Latin courtesy from the officers. We had two adventures on the voyage. A madman threw himself into the sea one night. The siren shrieked the alarm. A boat put off but returned after a fruitless search. I was told that this was a typical "return" case. On the way out Hope holds us by the hand. To make one's way back, after disappointments, is for human weakness perhaps a sore trial. We do not all get to Corinth. Let us pity those who make this an excuse for never setting out. The commissary told me the story of one third-class passenger, all in rags, who deposited with him when he came on board the sum of 150,000 francs. There are evidently compensations. The second adventure was more general in interest. It took the form of a strike among the coal-heavers of St. Vincent. The harbour, with its border of bare rock, lay still and deserted. A few saucy niggers dived for our edification after coins flung from the ship. But that was all, neither white nor black man appeared, for the order had been given that no one should come off to meet us and we on our side were forbidden to land. We need not be astonished if the first lesson learnt by the blacks from their white "superiors" is that of violence preached by grandiloquent politicians, trembling inwardly with fear, but, none the less, tenacious in their inglorious arguments. The negroes have the excuse of having reached our civilisation late in the day. Are we too exigent when we implore the whites to preach by example? We coal at Las Palmas, the capital of the Grand Canary. As other boats are there ahead of us, we are obliged to spend an entire day in harbour. We land, therefore. The "Happy Isles" have inherited from the ancients such a reputation that some disappointment is inevitable. Seen from the sea, the Canaries show only a cluster of arid rocks devoid of vegetation. Las Palmas is a picturesque town whose palms can but inspire an amiable benevolence in people who have seen Brazil. The country is purely African in character. Square white houses without windows, banana-groves down in the valleys, hills of calcined stones. After an hour or two along a road that is thick with dust, you reach a pretty restaurant standing in a garden whose exotic vegetation would be charming if one had never seen the Riviera. The canary of the islands that is said to abound revealed itself to me in the guise of a vulgar chattering sparrow. Yet the boatmen who boarded our ship offered authentic canaries in cages hung from a long rod, but I was told they had been procured from Holland. These birds have a particularly sweet song, and they sing to order, oddly enough. It is enough to shout to the seller, "Your canary does not sing," for the birds to burst into a flood of trills and turns. It is the triumph of a songster with the imitative faculty. Buyer and seller both are taken in and the greatest _serin_ (canary, also used to mean "duffer") is not the one you might think. Before I take my leave of the reader, I want to say a word for the creation of a line of fast ships making the journey between France and South America. So little space remains to me that I cannot treat the subject as I should like. The case is simple; formerly the French line was very popular, but it has allowed itself to be entirely outdistanced by other companies who have built more rapid boats while we continue to send our old vessels over the sea. The contract held by the Messageries Maritimes expires in 1912. By some culpable negligence no steps have been taken to improve the service or even to continue it. The matter cannot rest there. If we are to enlarge our dealings with South America, it is of capital importance to France to have a service of rapid boats fitted up on the most comfortable of modern lines. I shall venture to make a brief extract here from a report that I got my friend Edmond Théry to make out for me, since his authority in matters economic is universally known. For the last twenty years there has been a prodigious increase of production and public wealth in the two Americas. This fact accounts for the enormously increased proportion of travellers to Europe drawn from North America, Mexico, Brazil, the Argentine, etc. The proof is that the luxurious hotels springing up anew almost daily in Paris and on the Riviera to cater for this class of customer are always crowded. Brazil and the Argentine Republic have more especially profited by the rise in value of their land. In the course of the last ten years, from 1900 to 1909, their working railways have gone up from 14,027 kilometres to 19,080 in Brazil, and from 16,563 to 25,508 kilometres in the Argentine Republic. These 13,998 kilometres of new lines (46 per cent. increase since 1900) have opened the door to agriculture, cattle-breeding, forestry, in immense and hitherto desert regions, and the results of this may be traced in the increase of their foreign trade: FOREIGN TRADE OF BRAZIL AND THE ARGENTINE REPUBLIC IN TEN YEARS. ------------------+----------+----------+----------------------- | 1900 | 1909 |Total increase in 1909. | Millions | Millions | Millions | |of Francs.|of Francs.|of Francs.| Per Cent. |----------+----------+----------+------------ Brazil | | | | Imports | 634 | 935 | 301 | 47 Exports | 836 | 1,606 | 770 | 92 |----------+----------+----------+------------ Total | 1,470 | 2,541 | 1,071 | 73 |----------+----------+----------+------------ Argentine Republic| | | | Imports | 567 | 1,514 | 947 | 167 Exports | 773 | 1,987 | 1,214 | 157 |----------+----------+----------+------------ Total | 1,340 | 3,501 | 2,161 | 161 ------------------+----------+----------+----------+------------ Thus during a short period of ten years the exports--_i. e._, the surplus of home-grown articles after supplying the needs of the country--have increased in value by 770 millions of francs, 90 per cent., for Brazil, and 1214 millions, or 157 per cent., for the Argentine Republic. As for the total value of the foreign trade of the two countries, it has risen 1071 millions of francs for the former and 2161 millions for the latter: in other words, an average of 107 millions of francs per annum for Brazil and 216 millions for the Argentine. These startling figures show clearly enough the importance of the economic advance the two countries are making, and we may say that French capital has built up this prosperity. We ought now to seek to retain the advantages to be drawn from our financial intervention in the new Brazilian and Argentine undertakings, and one of the best ways to attain this end is to make sure of rapid means of communication between France and the two great South American Republics, which shall be up-to-date in every way and luxurious enough to induce Brazilians and Argentinos to come to Europe and return to their own country in French boats rather than in English, German, or Italian vessels. Such means of communication are already in existence between France and the United States, but are wholly lacking in the direction of Brazil and the Argentine Republic. The French boats which call at these stations have been a long time in use, and their fittings are in no sense in conformity with modern ideas of luxury such as the class of travellers to which I have already alluded invariably expects. As for their average speed, it certainly never goes beyond fourteen knots, for they make the journey from Bordeaux to Rio de Janeiro, with the different scheduled stops by the way, in a minimum of seventeen days, and if they go on as far as Buenos Ayres, in twenty-two days. The distance between Bordeaux and these two ports being 4901 and 5991 nautical miles respectively, it is only necessary to have boats capable of doing twenty knots as an average, or twenty-three miles an hour, for the journey to Rio de Janeiro to be performed in ten days and five hours, and that to Buenos Ayres in twelve days fifteen hours. There is nothing to add to this clear statement of the case. * * * * * And now, how can I resist the temptation to draw some sort of conclusion from these rambling notes, made with the sole desire to make use of the knowledge acquired for the benefit of French extension, and this in the interest of humanity at large? In every calling there is but one road to success--work. When Candide returned from Buenos Ayres, he brought back from his travels the lesson that we must work in our gardens. Since his days our gardens have grown considerably, and since we are ourselves the first elemental instrument for all work, the first condition of improvement must be the improvement of the material. Therefore let us work. FOOTNOTES: [54] "Brazil," by Pierre Denis. Translated by Bernard Miall. London: T. Fisher Unwin. [55] The reader who desires further information will find it in the article written by my travelling companion, Dr. Segard, on the Butantan Institute. INDEX A Aborigines of Patagonia, _n._ 52-54 Agricultural Society of Buenos Ayres, the shows of, 78-79 Agriculture: Waste entailed by system in vogue in the Pampas, 364 Wasteful Brazilian methods, 364-66, 376-78 _See_ Cattle, Cereals, Coffee, Horses, Pampas, _etc._ Alcorta, Señor Figueroa, President of the Argentine Republic, 180 Algeciras Conference, 67 Alienism, _see_ Open Door, The America, South: Impressions of, iii Cities of, vii, viii Architecture, vii Races of, viii Early culture, ix People of, unjustly ridiculed, 62-63 Produce of, 73-75 America, United States of, 64 Americans, South, characteristics of, 11-12 Anarchists, 85 Russian, 86 Oppressive measures against, 88-89 Argentine Exposition, 69-70 Argentine Republic, The, 18-20 Arrival in, 27-28 Maté, trade of, 45-46 Agricultural produce, 75-76 Foreigners in, 81 Patriotism, 91-93 Powers of assimilation, 94-97 Officials, 113-14 Types and manners, 142-74 Women of, 151-56 Exaggerated conventionality of society, 155-56 Girls of, 158-59 Fathers, 160 Gambling, 161-62 Land speculation in, 162 Cookery, 173-74 Politics, 175-203 Parliament, 184-86 The Executive, 188-89 The Press, 191-92 Society, 201-3 The Pampas, 204-32 Argo, Alpha of, 16 Aristocracy of Brazil, 355-56 Armadillo, The (_tatou_), 114 Army, The Brazilian, 342 Arrowheads, Primitive, _n._ 53-56 Arts, The, in the Argentine, 58-62 Asylums: Excellence of, in the Argentine, 114 For aged, 123 For widows, 124 For lunatics, 124-35 Avenida Central, Rio, 325 B Bacteriological research, 345-47 Ball, Official, at Rio, 359 Band, Oriental, 18 _See_ Uruguay. Bangu, Factories at, 364-65 Battleships, Extensive purchases of, 291 Belgrano, General, _n._ 59 Betting in the Argentine, 166-67 Black Pot, The, 14 Bon Vista, 368 Botanical Gardens: Of Buenos Ayres, 38-40, 44 Of Rio, 368 Bouvard, M., 57 Brazil, 144, (226-425) Recent troubles in, 178 Domestic architecture, _n._ 318, 321 French culture in, 331 Products of, 333 Politics, 337 Federal Government, 342 Saint Paul, 341-42 Society, 352-63 Planters, 356 Women of, 358 Agricultural methods, 364-66 _See_ Coffee, Rio de Janeiro, Saint Paul Brazil, Dr., his antitoxins for snake-bites, 403-4 Buckle, his prophecy relating to Brazil, 143-44 Buenos Ayres, 26-141 Elevators of, 26-27 City, 28 Architecture, 29 Docks, 32-33 Slaughter-houses, 34-35, 74-79 Excessive population, 85 Schools, 115-16 Asylums and prisons, 98-140 Buenos Ayres, Fair of, 79 Butantan (Sero-therapeutical Institute), 403 C Cabred, Dr., alienist, 128-29 Calval, 321 Campo, The Argentine: Men of, 207-9 Drought in, 213-14 Fauna of, 220-21 Morals of, 225 Canaries, The, 420 Cape Verde Islands, 5 Cattle: Exaggerated sums paid for, 74, 163 Herds of the Argentine Pampas, 206-9 Decimated by drought, 213-15, 246, 264 Cedar, False, 76 Cereals, 74, 75, 260 Cerro, The, 24-25 Church, The, in Brazil, 374 Cinematograph, The, 198 Clover, Giant, 75 Coal, Absence of, in the Argentine, 31 Coaling at St. Vincent, 10 Cobras, Las (island), Mutiny on, 335, 342 Coffee (389-94) The shrub, 389-90 Harvest, 390 Valorisation of, 393 Plantations, 394-99 Columbus, iii-v Conscription as affecting the French in South America, 97-99 Cookery in the Argentine, 173-74 Corcovado, 369-72 Creole balls, 231 Creole beauty, A, 279-82 Cruz, Dr. Oswaldo, Valuable medical services of, 343-48 D Dances of the Pampas, 321 Dancing, 285 Democracy, M. Clémenceau's lectures on, 200 Divorce in Uruguay, 299 Dolphins, 13 E Education: In the Argentine, 114-18 In Uruguay, 312-14 Emigrants: Italian, 2, 7 Yearly, 2 Syrians, 7 Emigration to Brazil prohibited on account of abuses, 366 England: At International Exposition of Buenos Ayres, 69-70 Her industrial rôle in South America, 70 English: In the Argentine, 100 In Patagonia, 105-6 As builders of railways, 183 Estancias: Of the Argentine, 75 Of the Pampas, 224, 235-47 Estanciero, The, 237 His habit of enlarging his holdings, 237-38 His life, 238-44 F Faction fights disappearing, 177 Family life in the Argentine, 150-51 Fauna of the Campo, 220-21 Fazenda, The Brazilian, 356, 408-17 Fazendero, The, 356 Ferri, Prof. Enrico, 107-8 Finger-print system, 89-90 Flax, 74 Flying-fish, 14 Fonseca, Marshal Hermès da, President of the Brazilian Republic, 328 Forest: The South American, 276-78 The Brazilian, 366 Destruction of, 376-78, 414-15 Forestry, Need of competent, 77 France: At the International Exposition of Buenos Ayres, 70 Failure of her capitalists to realise their opportunity in South America, 70 Military law of, as affecting the French in South America, 96-99 French colony, The, in the Argentine, 93, 94-97 As engineers, 183 French school at Tucuman, 287 French theatre at Tucuman, 286 French Military Mission to Saint-Paul, 329, 386 G Game on the Pampas, 247-52 Gaucho, The, 73, 207-9, 223-24, 228-30 Genoa, scenes in harbour, 1, 3 Germans in the Argentine, 100 Gramophones, 225 Groussac, P., 57 His adventures, 100-3 As a Spanish author, 102 Founds the public library, 102 Personality, 102-5 Groussac, de, 101-3 Guanaco, The, 221 Guiraldès, Señor, City Lieutenant of Buenos Ayres, 112 H Half-breeds, Life of, 271-75, 334 Harbour works, 183 _See_ Rosario, Montevideo Hares on the Pampas, 247 Harvesters, Italian, 84 Hilleret, M., sugar-planter, 270-71, 284 Horse-racing, 165-68 Horses: At the Buenos Ayres Horse show, 74 Of the Pampas, 207-8, 217-18 Curious power of finding their way home after revolutions, 228-29 Methods of breaking, 241-43 Hospitals: Excellence of, 114, 121 The "Open Door" for insane patients, 103, 124-32 Rivadavia Hospital, 122 Hotels, 170-71 House of Independence, The, 286 Huret, Jules, 257 I Idealism, Latin, 63-65 Immigration, 84-85 Indian blood in the Argentine, 111, 145-47 Indians, South American, _n._ 53, _n._ 56 Individualism, characteristic of South American constitutions, 190 Insurrections, Danger of, in the Argentine, 179 International Exposition at Buenos Ayres, 69-70 Isabella, the Infanta, Visit of, 110-11 Italians in Brazil, 355, 396-97 J Jacques, outlaw and educationalist, 101 Japanese in Brazil, 348-49 Jefferson, 64 _Jettatore_, Belief in, 181 Jockey Clubs of Buenos Ayres, 163-66 L La Plata, 17, 25, 56-8 Lakaluf Indians, _n._ 55 Land: Increase of value upon cultivation, 75 Speculation in, 161 Las Cobras, Island of, mutiny on, 335, 342 Larreta, E. R., novelist and Argentine Minister in Paris, 56 Law of Literary Property, 199-200 Law Schools, 120 Liguria, 4 Literature of the Argentine, _n._ 58 Llamas, 221 Locusts, 219 Lulès, 284 M Manguinhos Institute (sero-therapeutical), 345-47 Mar del Plato, 37 Martinette, The, 248-52 Maté, 44-6 Secret of growth from seed, 45 Meat, frozen, 79 Medicine, 120-22 French culture of doctors, 123 Protective regulations, 123 Sero-therapeutical Institute, 345-47 Middle classes, Abstention of, from politics, 188 Military service, French and Argentine, 96-98 _Minas Geraes_, battleship, mutiny on, 335, 342 Miscegenation, 147-48, 334 Monroe Doctrine, 66-67 Montevideo, 18 Docks, 20 City, 21 Architecture, 21-22 Harbour, 292 Moreno, Moriano, _n._ 59, 102 Morra, 14-15 Motor-cars: In the Campo, 245 Shooting from, 248-49 _Mussurana_, a cannibal snake, 404 O Ombu-tree, The, 40-42, 219-20 Onas Indians, _n._ 55 Onelli, Señor, Director of Buenos Ayres Zoölogical Gardens, 48-53 "Open Door," The, asylum for insane, 124-35 Ornevo (cardinal bird), 221 Ostrich, The, 51, 221 Owl, The prairie, 223, 255 P Palermo (racecourse), 38, 53-54 Pampas, The: Life on, 204-32 Enormous herds of, 210-12 _Pampero_, The, 17, 73 Pan-American Congress, 65-67 Parana, the, 26, 260 Partridges, 248-51 Patagonians, Account of, by Señor Onelli, _n._ 52-56 Peçanha, President, 332 Pellegrini, President, an _insoumis_, 99 Peña, President, 107, 182 Penguins, 50 Petropolis, 373-74 Photographers in the home, 198-99 Police, Argentine, 89 Politics, 176-77, 189 In Uruguay, 300-1 In Brazil, 336-39 Polyvalent serum for snake-bite, 403 Prado _fazenda_, The, 394-95 Press, Power of the, 191-92, 193-98, 304 Prisons, 137-41 Protectionism in the medical world, 123 Q Québracho, 32, 40 Quintana, the late President, 181 R _Rabat_, a method of hunting hares, 248 Race-course, Palermo, 38 Railways, 183, 422 _Rastaquouère_, The, 62 Reds of Uruguay, The, 178 Garibaldi's shirt borrowed from, _n._ 300 Refrigerator industry, The, 79, 216 Revolution, The French, x. Revolutions: South American, things of the past, 179 Method of raising men, 227, 266 In Uruguay, 300 Rio Bay, 321-27 Rio Branco, Baron de, 328 Rio de Janeiro, 322-51 Aspect of city, 325-29 From Corcovado, 371 Roca, President, 102 Rosario: Cattle show at, 79, 259 Docks, 262 Deficiency of schools, 263 Rosas, dictator, _n._ 59 S St. Lazare, prison, 113 St. Paul (_Saõ Paolo_), 379-81 Government of, 382 City, 384 _St. Paul_ (_Saõ Paolo_), battleship, mutiny on, 335, 342 St Vincent, coaling station, 8, 9, 418 St. Vincent, Brazil, 320 San Martin, 59 Santos, Shipments of coffee at, 319, 398-407 Santos Bay, 407 Santos River, 317 Sarmiento, _n._ 59, 101 Schools: In the Argentine, 115-18 Secondary, 119 Training College of St. Paul, 385-87 Sculpture, Abundance of mediocre, in Buenos Ayres, 58-60 Sera: Preparation of, 345-46 Snake antitoxins, 402-3 Sheep, in Patagonia, 106 Shipping, lines to South America, 421, 423-24 Siesta unknown to Brazil, 320 Slavery: In Brazil, Abolition of, 353-54 Evils and advantages of, 358 Snakes, of Brazil, 401-4 Soarès, Señor, his model _fazenda_, 408-9 Southern Cross, The, 16 Spain, influence of her traditions, 109-11 Sport in the Pampas, 248-55 Stone Age, The, _n._ 53-54 Sugar-cane, Fields of, 273 T Tchuleches Indians, 53 Telegraphy, Wireless, 9 Thays, M.: Director of Parks, etc., at Buenos Ayres, 38-39 His proposal for national park, 39, 44-55 Theatre at Rio, 361 Theresopolis, 375 Tierra del Fuego, Natives of, _n._ 55 Timber: Lack of, in Argentina, 32, 76 Improvident destruction of, 76 Trade of Argentina and Brazil, 422-23 Training College, St. Paul, 385-87 Tucuman, 268, 286-87 The French at, 286-88 U Uruguay, 18, (289-315) Revolutions in, 19 President of, 20, 23-24 Morals of, 22 Whites and Reds of, 178 Curious domestic architecture, 295 Laws (reformed), 298-99 Revolutions, 300 Whites and Reds, 300 Insecurity of life during political disputes, 301 The Press, 304 Idealism, 308-9 Uruguay Club, The, 303 Uruguay River, The, 26 V Valorisation of coffee, 393 Viana, Island of, 348-50 Voltaire, played 900 miles from the coast in 1780, ix., 333 Voyage, Impressions of the, 5-10 W White, Mr. Henry, 57 Whites, The, of Uruguay, 178, 300 Williman, Señor, President of Uruguay, 23-24, 297 Y Yellow fever, at Santos, and extirpation of, 319 The work of Dr. Cruz at Rio, 343-45 _Yerba-maté_, 44-46 Z Zoölogical Gardens, Buenos Ayres, 48-49 _A Selection from the Catalogue of_ G. 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Hanotaux in the front rank of French historians with Guizot, De Tocqueville, and Thiers._ CONTEMPORARY FRANCE By GABRIEL HANOTAUX Formerly Minister of Foreign Affairs Translated by JOHN CHARLES TARVER and E. SPARVEL-BAYLY _Four volumes. Octavo. Each complete in itself and covering a definite period. Illustrated with portraits in photogravure. Sold separately, each, net, $3.75._ Vol. I. FRANCE IN 1870-1873. Vol. II. FRANCE IN 1873-1875. Vol. III. FRANCE IN 1874-1877. Vol. IV. FRANCE IN 1877-1882. "It is with satisfaction on taking up one of the most important contributions to history, to find the work so sympathetically and exactly translated as is M. Hanotaux's 'Contemporary France.' Such a translation fits the American reader to appreciate the work in all of its excellence.... The first of the four volumes challenges our attention from start to finish, because in it we recognize not only the work of a careful, trained scholar, but also that of the first-hand observer.... M. 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The first line shows the original text; the second line is the corrected text as it appears in this e-book. According to Homeric song. it was from p. 12-13 According to Homeric song, it was from the nets of the fishermen. p. 13 the nets of the fishermen." 'I will Footnote 13 p. 131 'I will' loc cit. Footnote 14 p. 134 loc. cit. vimdas p. 268 viudas Children moving about an all fours p. 272 Children moving about on all fours concidence p. 317 coincidence similiar p. 345 similar Arrow-heads Index Arrowheads Fazendeiro Index Fazendero Fonsica Index Fonseca Larretta Index Larreta Minas Geraès Index Minas Geraes Moreno, Moriana Index Moreno, Moriano Quebracho Index Québracho Quintano Index Quintana race-course Index racecourse Rastaquoère Index Rastaquouère Therezopolis Index Theresopolis In addition, a doubled line: "this centre), or the idle gossip that constitutes" on p. 372 was removed.