SANTIAGO AND THE FIRST PAN-AMERICAN SCIENTIFIC CONGRESS
From the railway station to the centre of Santiago is a two-mile ride on
a fine parkway, the Alameda de las Deliciosas. It has rows of trees,
muddy little brooks, and a shady promenade. Statues to some of Chile’s
more famous heroes have been placed in the centre of the promenade, and
stone benches, more artistic than comfortable, line its sides near the
brook. This sounds rather romantic, but the waters of the stream, which
is in reality a ditch two feet wide, are so dirty that it suggests an
open sewer rather than a mountain brook.
During our stay some one became disgusted with either the brook or the
stone benches and exploded a bomb under one of the latter. It happened
late in the night and nothing was hurt, except the bench, which was
quite demolished. Had the bomb gone off earlier in the evening there
would have been a list of casualties, for all the world walks up and
down here in the cool of the evening admiring the view of the Andes. The
strictly fashionable world confines itself more often to the pavements
of the principal plazas where it may be found about nine o’clock, on
evenings when the band is playing, walking slowly round and round,
enjoying a glimpse of itself. But the broad Alameda, as wide as three
or four ordinary streets, is distinctly the more popular resort, and on
festivals like Christmas or New Year’s, it is thronged with
merry-makers.
At the end of the Alameda, beyond the centre of the city, is the
romantic rock of Santa Lucia. Santiago owes its situation to the fact
that this precipitous hill of solid rock was left by nature in the
centre of a rich, fertile plain. The rock formed a natural fortress and
was fortified by the Spaniards when they first came to Chile. After
having been the scene of numerous bloody battles during Chile’s colonial
days, Santa Lucia is now a wonderfully attractive park with fine
driveways, well-made paths that command splendid panoramas of city,
plain, and mountains, and a theatre and restaurant on its summit. The
view is remarkably fine. The city spreads itself out on all sides
although the principal plaza and the business district lie more to the
west. The snow-capped Andes, the most characteristic feature of Santiago
scenery, rise majestically to the east. Low foot-hills bound the western
horizon. The fertile plain, which is none other than the great central
valley of Chile, lies to the north and south. Magnificent vineyards
yielding a larger crop of wine than those of California itself, are
scattered over this valley. Chile repeatedly reminds one of California
by its climate, its fruit, its mountain scenery, and its arid coast.
California has one advantage, its width between the ocean and the
Sierras, particularly in the fertile region, is so much greater than
that of Chile.
The hotels of Santiago are not so luxurious and modern as those of
Buenos Aires, yet we found the “Annexo B” of the Oddo to be perfectly
comfortable. It is really a “bachelor apartment hotel.” No meals, except
early coffee, were served there, so we took advantage of the generous
hospitality of the two leading clubs, the Club Santiago and the Union.
Wearied as I was by the dismal brown desert of southern Bolivia, the
gardens and fountains in the patio of the Club Santiago seemed like
Paradise itself. To be able to sit at small tables, served by courteous
waiters, and enjoy immaculate linen and the best of food and drink, was
sufficiently novel to be charming, but only half as welcome as the
restful green of the trees and the pleasant splash of the fountains.
We soon discovered that the coolest and easiest way to see Santiago was
from the second story of an electric car, especially when the upper tier
of seats was covered. The fare on the roof is intended for the
pocket-books of second-class passengers and is only five _centavos_ (a
cent and a quarter!) which makes it cheaper to take a car than to walk.
Unfortunately for the pleasures of life in Santiago, fashion frowns on
any one who climbs the stairs when he can afford to ride below.
Our friends would not even allow us to ride below, however, and put us
instead into a kind of “hack” that is known here as an “_Americano_.”
It seems that several generations ago, an American resident introduced a
carriage which he thought peculiarly adapted to Santiago. It might be
described as a two-seated rockaway. This vehicle soon became a vogue
and is now the established style for hackney carriages. There are
victorias for hire on the principal plazas, but their rates are
extortionately high while those of the “_Americanos_” are ridiculously
low. It is well they are, for otherwise no one would patronize them.
They seem to be without springs, cleanliness, or any ordinary comforts.
They are not without fleas and other insects. As you go bumping and
rattling over the cobblestones of Santiago in one of these antiquated
vehicles you come to wonder whether the Chilean’s proverbial dislike of
Americans has not been intensified by the discomforts he has suffered in
the “_Americanos_!”
The first Pan-American Scientific Congress was the fruit of an idea
started some years ago in Buenos Aires where delegates from a few of the
South American countries met for the first _Latin-American_ Scientific
Congress. That was followed by a second which met at Montevideo, and a
third, at Rio, each showing an increase in numbers and importance. Plans
for the fourth Congress were left entirely in the hands of a Chilean
organization committee who decided that the time was ripe to include the
United States in the list of invitations and make the Congress
Pan-American instead of Latin-American. The visits of a number of
distinguished North Americans, including Secretary Root and Professors
Moses, Rowe, and Shepherd, had done much to pave the way for friendly
feeling between the scientific men of Chile and those of the United
States, and the proposal of the organization committee met with hearty
approval. Owing to the efforts of Secretary Root and Professor Rowe, the
United States Congress passed an appropriation to send an official
delegation to the Congress. A number of our leading universities
likewise appointed delegates.
The programme suggested for the Congress was replete with all manner of
topics for discussion and covered almost the entire field of knowledge,
from questions of sanitation to those of international law, and from the
antiquity of primitive man in America to modern methods of primary
instruction.
As was to be expected from such a comprehensive programme, the intention
was not so much to bring out the results of the latest research as to
furnish topics that would be sure to interest the delegates. Even the
meetings of our learned societies in the States are largely social. To
many of those who attend the chief attraction is the opportunity of
meeting others who are interested in the same lines, and the programme
is merely an excuse for the meeting. The Pan-American Scientific
Congress was not far different. It offered an excellent opportunity for
the scientists of Latin-America to renew old acquaintance, and it gave
the favored delegates from the United States a chance to make new
friends among men whose interests are chiefly intellectual.
Under the circumstances, it is not surprising that few of the papers
presented new facts or the results of prolonged and scholarly research.
Nor is it at all remarkable that the most animated discussions took
place in the sessions devoted to international law and politics,
education, and political science. These are topics on which every man
has ideas which he is not afraid to express. And these discussions
served as a means of introducing men that might not otherwise have met.
Politics were kept in the background, as far as possible, but national
feelings occasionally found opportunity for expression.
Chile is the one country in South America that has never had and cannot
have a boundary dispute with Brazil. The Portuguese-American Republic is
not likely to meddle with West Coast matters, and Chile has nothing to
gain from troubling the beautiful harbors of Rio and Bahia. Indeed, so
lacking have been any causes of friction between the two Republics that
they are fond of emphasizing the _entente cordiale_ that exists between
them. It was natural, consequently, that the third Latin-American
Scientific Congress, meeting in Rio under Brazilian organization, should
have chosen Santiago as the seat of the fourth congress, and it was a
return of the courtesy when the organizing committee at Santiago,
composed of Chileans, selected the local Brazilian Minister as
President.
The Congress opened with formal ceremonies, fine music, and much
oration. In answer to the roll-call of republics, the leading delegate
from each country responded with befittingly felicitous remarks.
It is true that the learned Brazilian who replied, when the name of his
country was called, with a speech in Portuguese lasting nearly an hour
in length, stretched the friendly feelings toward the Brazilian
delegation almost to the breaking point. Few of the audience could
understand enough of what he said to follow his wordy address. Almost
everyone thought that its unnecessary length, added to the fact of its
being the only address of the evening that was not in Spanish, the
official language of the Congress, was at least a breach of good
manners.
The state of mind of the Chilean audience was reflected in the daily
papers the next morning when full space was given to verbatim reports of
the speeches made by the representatives of all the other republics and
not even a synopsis was accorded to the speech of the learned Brazilian.
The Brazilian delegation took umbrage at this and also at the ovation
that was given the Argentine representative whose speech was short,
crisp, and filled with expressions of friendship. Like the Mexican
delegate, he had appreciated the fact that there were of necessity
seventeen other addresses, and that five minutes devoted to cordial
greetings was better than fifty minutes of erudite information. A month
afterwards when the Brazilian delegation was on its way home, I read in
the newspaper reports from Buenos Aires that the Brazilians felt that
the Chileans had gone out of their way to make friendly overtures to
Argentina, Brazil’s natural rival. But the only things of which they had
any cause to complain were brought about by their own unfortunate
mistakes and in no wise indicated any desire on Chile’s part to weaken
the ties of her long friendship with Brazil.
Another interesting thing in the formal opening
[Illustration: BATTLEFIELD OF MAIPO NEAR SANTIAGO]
meeting was that although the Peruvian delegate received one of the most
enthusiastic and heartiest ovations of any, he took it in stolid
silence, making no motion and giving no sign that he heard or understood
what was going on. As a matter of fact, he and his colleagues felt out
of place. Peruvians hate and dread Chile and feel grievously wronged by
her continued occupation of Peru’s southernmost provinces, Tacna and
Arica. Consequently, they accepted all the Chilean overtures with very
bad grace, feeling that it would have been much more desirable to have
had fewer fine words and more kind actions. It was apparent that the
Chileans were doing everything in their power to try and patch up the
quarrel and let bygones be bygones, but the Peruvians felt that the
demonstration lacked the essential quality of sincerity which, of
course, could only have been given by a sacrifice of the provinces of
Tacna and Arica which Chile had no intention whatever of making.
Throughout the meetings the Peruvian delegates held themselves somewhat
aloof and took part in the exercises with a certain dignity which showed
how little they enjoyed being the recipients of Chilean hospitality. The
Chileans were undoubtedly annoyed at the cool reception of their
friendly overtures. It is entirely possible that this contributed not a
little to Chilean excitement over the incident of La Corona, of which I
shall have occasion to speak later on.
The greater part of the time of the Congress, counted by hours, was
given over to receptions and teas, breakfasts and dinners, visits to
vineyards, public works, and exhibitions, military tournaments,
picnics, and balls.
Hardly had we got settled in our hotel before invitations began to pour
in, and we soon found that the hospitable Chilenos had made up their
minds to overwhelm us with kindnesses from the moment of our arrival
until our departure. Never did a city give itself over more heartily and
more gracefully to entertaining an international gathering. For three
weeks, hardly a day passed that was not marked by elaborate
entertainments. Balls, distinguished by elegance and magnificence, were
attended by the youth and beauty of the most aristocratic society in
South America, clad in the height of fashion and behaving just as
society does in other parts of the world. The Club Santiago was
repeatedly the scene of banquets whose brilliance would have rather
startled those good people in the United States who think of South
America as being something like an African jungle.
Most of the outdoor festivals were held at the racetrack where a fine
large grandstand, capable of seating ten thousand people, faces a
beautiful field and the magnificent snow-capped Andes. Here, on a sunny
afternoon, Santiago society met in a battle of flowers for the benefit
of charity. The participants, either standing on the terrace in front of
the grandstand or driving by in handsomely decorated equipages, were
neither noisy nor boisterous and yet entered heartily into a very pretty
event.
One evening was devoted to the volunteer firemen of Santiago. Following
a parade was a distribution of premiums for bravery and length of
service. As there is no paid fire department, the city depends on these
volunteers for fire protection, and it has always been fashionable to
belong to one of the best companies.
For over three hundred years Santiago has been the home of Spanish
families of distinction. Their income has never been so swollen as to
tempt them to extravagant display or so small as to drive them to petty
pursuits for the sake of gaining a livelihood.
In such matters as magnificent hotels, expensive restaurants, luxurious
clubs, and showy automobiles, Santiago readily yields the palm to Buenos
Aires. There has been no great boom in Chile at all comparable to that
which Argentina has seen. Furthermore, earthquakes and fires have done
their worst to impoverish a nation not too bountifully supplied with
natural resources. To be sure, the enormous nitrate deposits of northern
Chile have made the government able to distribute millions of dollars
among its followers without overtaxing the population. Money has come in
so easily from the export duties on nitrate that no Finance Minister has
been greatly troubled by his budget.
Although Santiago cannot boast of as many evidences of wealth as Buenos
Aires, she has other qualifications which give her the right to hold her
head higher than any city in South America. The chief of these is her
literary preëminence.
She has produced during the past generation more writers of ability than
any other South American city. Easily first among these is José Toribio
Medina, whose untiring industry and genius for bibliography have made
him famous all over the world. Aided by a devoted wife, he has produced
more scholarly works than any other man now living in South America, and
more volumes of first-class bibliography than any in the western
hemisphere. A born collector, he spent years in various parts of the
world purchasing rare books in out-of-the-way places and making notes of
unpurchasable volumes in the great libraries, until he had built up a
magnificent collection of early Americana that is almost unparalleled.
His modest house is replete with interest. Three large rooms are lined
from floor to ceiling with his treasures. One room is devoted almost
entirely to early Mexican imprints. To see gathered together in one
place ten thousand pamphlets printed before Mexico secured her
independence, leads one to modify somewhat those conceptions of Spanish
intolerance for learning which we have inherited from some of our older
writers. To be sure, the pamphlets are mostly of a religious character.
However much one may disagree with the dogmas they contain one cannot
but admit that the intention of their publishers was to raise the
religious and moral tone of the community. In the back part of Sr.
Medina’s house are the rooms of the “Elzevir” Press. Here have been
printed those sumptuous bibliographical quartos that are the envy of
every librarian and the despair of the average scholar. As Sr. Medina
was originally a printer, it is his recreation to assist in putting his
volumes into type. It is not often in the modern world that one finds
the whole process of making a book existing under one roof. Here are the
sources; here lives the scholar who knows them; here he extracts their
virtues; and from this same place he sends forth to the world the
results of his investigations, printed and bound, ready for the use of
the student.
Besides Sr. Medina, Santiago has produced a number of historians, men
like Vicuña Mackenna and Diego Barros Arana who for careful statement
and concise diction have not been surpassed in South America. Even the
late Bartolome Mitre of Buenos Aires, one of Argentina’s greatest
statesmen and her greatest historian, never succeeded in getting away
from the Spanish trick of efflorescence in language which greatly marred
his work from the literary point of view.
Santiago’s literary preëminence is further shown both by the fact that
in no other city in South America are there so many people who are fond
of books and reading--witness the large number of new and second-hand
book stores--and the excellent list of works that are published here
every year. While Buenos Aires, with a population three times as large,
can boast of a few booksellers whose shops are devoted to showy
imprints, and who cater to the needs of those who buy their libraries by
the yard, there is little evidence in Argentina of a discriminating
group of booklovers like those who patronize the score of old book
stalls in one of Santiago’s streets near the university.
On the outskirts of Santiago is an excellent manual training school
where several hundred boys are lodged, fed, and taught all manner of
trades, from printing to forging, and carpentry to carving. Particular
attention is paid to electricity, and a large number of the students
become practical electricians. At the exhibition of the year’s work we
were particularly impressed with the fact that the school is able to
sell nearly all the articles made by the students. Churns, derricks,
chairs, and bells, well made and cheap, gave evidence that the school
was run on sound business principles.
Not far off is the Quinta Normal, a fine large reservation where normal
and agricultural schools rub shoulders with museums of fine arts and
natural history. The result is a charming place for study and a
delightful public park.
During our visit, the annual fine arts exhibition was in progress and
included a number of extremely meritorious paintings by Sotomayor, a
Spanish painter who has recently been engaged by the Chilean government
to teach in the Art School. Chile is certainly to be congratulated on
the class of teachers that she brings from abroad for her schools, and
her latest acquisition is well up to the standard.
Chile’s appreciation of art and her policy of securing able foreign
talent to teach her youth are greatly in her favor. She is in fact a
young and vigorous nation. Her people are bred in a splendid climate,
well suited to the development of a strong race. In fact the Araucanian
aborigines were superior to anything that the Spaniards found in either
North or South America. The early Spanish immigrants were an unusually
good lot. And there has been a striking admixture of Anglo-Saxon blood
as is shown by the frequency of English family names in Santiago.
As is well known, in the south of Chile there are many Germans and it is
commonly cited as one of the danger spots of German expansion in South
America. Those who argue so fail to take into consideration the
remarkably strong hold that Chile has on her children. In no other part
of South America do foreigners become so fond of the soil as in Chile.
Even those of English ancestry are prouder of the history of Chile than
they are of that of England. I have heard them go so far in praise of
their adopted land as to deride England and predict her downfall. In
Buenos Aires, on the other hand, they continually revisit the homeland
and pride themselves on their close connection with it. There one sees
little of that devotion to the country of their adoption which is in
evidence here.
Among the spectacles provided for the benefit of the delegates, the most
interesting was a military tournament that was worth going a long way to
see. The Chilean cavalryman is a remarkably daring horseman. His Spanish
and Araucanian ancestry have given him qualities that appeal to the eye
and to one’s admiration of courage. Perhaps the most remarkable feat of
the afternoon was the charge made by a squadron of cavalry over a
burning hurdle. A brush fence, well soaked in kerosene, was erected in
front of the grandstand and set on fire. Starting to windward, the
squadron charged, vaulted over the flames and dashed away in the smoke,
only to turn in the face of a strong wind which blew the smoke and
flames into the very faces of the horses, dash back again, and in
perfect order clear the fiery obstacle with as much ease and grace as
though it had been a peaceful country fence. As an exhibition of
training it was extremely significant.
President Montt,[1] who was extremely kind and courteous to us, and is
one of the most able and honest officials that South America has ever
seen, sent us an invitation one morning to attend the official
inspection of the Military Academy. All the Chilean officers speak
German and most of them have spent from two to three years studying in
Germany. Like the army, the school is run on German models and is
extremely well kept up. The neatness, discipline, cleanliness, and
excellent sanitary arrangements were in marked contrast to most public
buildings in South America. The cadets are a fine-looking lot of boys
who are largely put on their honor. Few rules are made for their
guidance but when any one is guilty of conduct unbecoming in an officer
and a gentleman, he is permanently discharged from the academy. The
instructors lay great stress on map-making. The exhibition of maps made
by the students was remarkably interesting. The students are taught not
only to make outline maps, but also to construct models of battlefields
and even to draw sectional panoramas on a uniform scale. Three cadets
are sent out to survey a position and to return in half an hour, each
with a drawing which, fitted to that of his mates, will make a panorama
that will enable the commanding officer to understand the situation and
direct his forces intelligently. This is only one instance of the
thoroughness with which the cadets are instructed. It is not remarkable
that several other Latin-American countries have sent for Chilean
officers to teach their cadets, and have even sent their own boys to
study here.
The Congress closed on the evening of the 5th of January, 1909, with a
grand banquet that was a blaze of glory. Eloquent speeches of mutual
congratulation were delivered by the representatives of various parts of
the two continents. Perhaps the most striking thing of the evening was
the contrast between the speeches of that member of the American
delegation who had been chosen to respond to the toast, “The United
States,” and the one that followed it delivered by a brilliant young
orator from Uruguay. As might have been expected, the latter was fiery,
flowery, and ecstatic, while the former was dignified and well within
the bounds of reason even in his compliments. The unexpected and very
striking difference was that the American spoke better Spanish, pure
Castilian, melodious and graceful. The Uruguayan speech was in the
offensive dialect of Montevideo, harsh to the ear, resembling Portuguese
in its guttural quality.
The only other speech of the evening that equalled the North American’s
in beauty of diction was that of General Uribe Uribe, the delegate from
Colombia. He ably upheld the reputation of his country for speaking the
best Castilian in America. So far as one who is not a native may be
permitted the privilege of judging by the effect on the ear, the
inhabitants of Colombia and Peru speak the best, while the people of the
countries of the River Plate speak the worst and most impure Spanish of
any on the continent. The impurity is a natural result of their
century-long dealings with the Portuguese in Southern Brazil; of the
presence in their midst of a very large number of Italians whose speech
is so like the Spanish that it easily corrupts it; and also of the fact
that during the colonial epoch, Buenos Aires was not a centre of Spanish
culture like Bogotá or Lima. On the contrary, as is well known, Buenos
Aires was filled with a fairly rough lot of traders who made their
fortune by smuggling and other illegitimate transactions. However much
we may be inclined to justify such actions on their part by the
injustice of the Spanish trade laws governing the commerce of the
Indies, we cannot be oblivious to the fact that the kind of individual
who would be willing to make his living by smuggling would probably not
take pains to speak his native tongue with either elegance or careful
attention to grammatical rules. In Lima and Bogotá, on the other hand,
society was dominated by the official class, and however critically we
may regard these proud Spaniards who were sent by their King to govern
America, we must be willing to admit that they were likely to speak the
beautiful language of Castile as perfectly as possible.
So much has been said of the inability of Americans to learn Spanish
properly and to speak it gracefully (it is a common proverb in South
America that English and Americans murder the soft Castilian) that it
was a great pleasure to hear the official language of the Congress
spoken better by a North American than by a South American. Furthermore,
it was characteristic of their courtesy that the Spanish-American
delegates at once complimented us on such an achievement.