The vast plain known as the "Pampas" is one of the largest tracts of
level country upon the face of the earth. East and west it stretches
from the mouth of the Rio de la Plata to the foothills of the Andes
mountains. It is interrupted on the north by a series of mountains and
hill country, that cross from the Andes to the Paraguay River, forming
the Sierras of Mendoza, San Luis, and Cordova; while its southern
boundary is not so definitely marked, though it may be regarded as
ending at the Rio Negro, where it meets, coming up from the south, the
desert plains of Patagonia.
Geologically, the Pampas (or plains, as the word signifies, in the
language of the Peruvian Indians) is an alluvial formation,--the bed of
an ancient sea,--upheaved by some unknown cause to its present
elevation, which is not much above the ocean-level. It is not,
therefore, a _plateau_ or "tableland," but a vast natural meadow. The
soil is in general of a red colour, argillaceous in character, and at
all points filled with marine shells and other testimonies that the sea
once rolled over it. It is in the Pampas formation that many of the
fossil monsters have been found,--the gigantic megatherium, the colossal
_mylodon_, and the giant armadillo (_glyptodon_), with many other
creatures, of such dimensions as to make it a subject of speculation how
the earth could have produced food enough for their maintenance.
In giving to the Pampas the designation of a _vast meadow_, do not
suffer yourself to be misled by this phrase,--which is here and
elsewhere used in rather a loose and indefinite manner. Many large
tracts in the Pampas country would correspond well enough to this
definition,--both as regards their appearance and the character of the
herbage which covers them; but there are other parts which bear not the
slightest resemblance to a meadow. There are vast tracts thickly
covered with tall thistles,--so tall as to reach to the head of a man
mounted on horseback, and so thickly set, that neither man nor horse
could enter them without a path being first cleared for them.
Other extensive tracts are grown over with tall grass so rank as to
resemble reeds or rushes more than grass; and an equally extensive
surface is timbered with small trees, standing thinly and without
underwood, like the fruit-trees in an orchard. Again, there are wide
morasses and extensive lakes, many of them brackish, and some as salt as
the sea itself. In addition to these, there are "salinas," or plains of
salt,--the produce of salt lakes, whose waters have evaporated, leaving
a stratum of pure salt often over a foot in thickness, and covering
their beds to an extent of many square leagues. There are some parts,
too, where the Pampas country assumes a sterile and stony character,--
corresponding to that of the great desert of Patagonia. It is not
correct therefore, to regard the Pampas as one unbroken tract of
_meadow_. In one character alone is it uniform in being a country
without mountains,--or any considerable elevations in the way of ridges
or hills,--though a few scattered sierras are found both on its northern
and southern edges.
The _Thistle Pampas_, as we take the liberty of naming them, constitute
perhaps the most curious section of this great plain; and not the less
so that the "weed" which covers them is supposed not to be an indigenous
production, but to have been carried there by the early colonists.
About this, however, there is a difference of opinion. No matter whence
sprung, the thistles have flourished luxuriantly, and at this day
constitute a marked feature in the scenery of the Pampas. Their
position is upon the eastern edge of the great plain, contiguous to the
banks of the La Plata; but from this river they extend backwards into
the interior, at some points to the distance of nearly two hundred
miles. Over this vast surface they grow so thickly that, as already
mentioned, it is not possible for either man or horse to make way
through them. They can only be traversed by devious paths--already
formed by constant use, and leading through narrow lanes or glades,
where, for some reason, the thistles do not choose to grow. Otherwise
they cannot be entered even by cattle. These will not, unless
compelled, attempt penetrating such an impervious thicket; and if a herd
driven along the paths should chance to be "stampeded" by any object of
terror, and driven to take to the thistles, scarce a head of the whole
flock can ever afterwards be recovered. Even the instincts of the dumb
animals do not enable them to find their way out again; and they usually
perish, either from thirst, or by the claws of the fierce pumas and
jaguars, which alone find themselves at home in the labyrinthine
"_cardonales_." The little _viscacha_ contrives to make its burrow
among them, and must find subsistence by feeding upon their leaves and
seed, since there is no other herbage upon the ground,--the well-armed
thistle usurping the soil, and hindering the growth of any other plants.
It may be proper to remark, however, that there are two kinds of these
plants, both of which cover large tracts of the plain. One is a true
thistle, while the other is a weed of the artichoke family, called by
the Spanish Americans "cardoon." It is a species of _Cardunculus_. The
two do not mingle their stalks, though both form thickets in a similar
manner and often in the same tract of country. The cardoon is not so
tall as the thistle; and, being without spines, its "beds" are more
easily penetrated; though even among these, it would be easy enough to
get entangled and lost.
It is proper to remark here, that these thistle-thickets do not shut up
the country all the year round. Only for a season,--from the time they
have grown up and "shoot," till their tall ripened stalks wither and
fall back to the earth, where they soon moulder into decay. The plains
are then open and free to all creatures,--man among the rest,--and the
Gaucho, with his herds of horses, horned cattle, and sheep, or the
troops of roving Indians, spread over and take possession of them.
The young thistles now present the appearance of a vast field of
turnips; and their leaves, still tender, are greedily devoured by both
cattle and sheep. In this condition the Pampas thistles remain during
their short winter; but as spring returns, they once more "bristle" up,
till, growing taller and stouter, they present a _chevaux-de-frise_ that
at length expels all intruders from their domain.
On the western selvage of this thistle tract lies the grass-covered
section of the Pampas. It is much more extensive than that of the
"cardonales,"--having an average width of three hundred miles, and
running longitudinally throughout the whole northern and southern
extension of the Pampas. Its chief characteristic is a covering of
coarse grass,--which at different seasons of the year is short or tall,
green, brown, or yellowish, according to the different degrees of
ripeness. When dry, it is sometimes fired,--either by design or
accident,--as are also the withered stems of the thistles; and on these
occasions a conflagration occurs, stupendous in its effects,--often
extending over vast tracts, and reducing everything to black ashes.
Nothing can be more melancholy to the eye than the aspect of a burnt
pampa.
The grass section is succeeded by that of the "openings," or scanty
forests, already mentioned; but the trees in many places are more
closely set; assuming the character of thickets, or "jungles." These
tracts end among the spurs of the Andes,--which, at some points, are
thrown out into the plain, but generally rise up from it abruptly and by
a well-defined border.
The marshes and bitter lakes above mentioned are the produce of numerous
streams, which have their rise in the Great Cordillera of the Andes, and
run eastward across the Pampas. A few of these, that trend in a
southerly direction, reach the Atlantic by means of the two great
outlets,--the "Colorado" and "Negro." All the others--and "their name
is legion"--empty their waters into the morasses and lakes, or sink into
the soil of the plains, at a greater or less distance from the
Cordillera, according to the body of water they may carry down.
Evaporation keeps up the equilibrium.
Who are the dwellers upon the Pampas? To whom does this vast
pasture-ground belong? Whose flocks and herds are they that browse upon
it?
You will be told that the Pampas belong to the republic of Buenos Ayres,
or rather to the "States of the Argentine Confederation,"--that they are
inhabited by a class of citizens called "Gauchos," who are of Spanish
race, and whose sole occupation is that of herdsmen, breeders of cattle
and horses,--men famed for their skill as horsemen, and for their
dexterity in the use of the "lazo" and "bolas,"--two weapons borrowed
from the aboriginal races.
All this is but partially true. The proprietorship of this great plain
was never actually in the hands of the Buenos-Ayrean government, nor in
those of their predecessors,--the Spaniards. Neither has ever owned
it--either by conquest or otherwise:--no further than by an empty boast
of ownership; for, from the day when they first set foot upon its
borders to the present hour, neither has ever been able to cross it, or
penetrate any great distance into it, without a grand army to back their
progress. But their possession virtually ceased at the termination of
each melancholy excursion; and the land relapsed to its original owners.
With the exception of some scanty strips along its borders, and some
wider ranges, thinly occupied by the half-nomade Gauchos, the Pampas are
in reality an Indian territory, as they have always been; and the claim
of the white man is no more than nominal,--a mere title upon the map.
It is not the only vast expanse of Spanish American soil that _never was
Spanish_.
The true owners of the Pampas, then, are the red aborigines,--the Pampas
Indians; and to give some account of these is now our purpose.
Forming so large an extent, it is not likely it should all belong to one
united tribe,--that would at once elevate them into the character of a
nation. But they are not united. On the contrary, they form several
distinct associations, with an endless number of smaller subdivisions or
communities,--just in the same way as it is among their prairie cousin
of the north. They may all, however, be referred to four grand tribal
associations or nationalities,--the _Pehuenches_, _Puelches_,
_Picunches_, and _Ranqueles_.
Some add the _Puilliches_, who dwell on the southern rim of the Pampas;
but these, although they extend their excursions over a portion of the
great plain, are different from the other Pampas Indians in many
respects,--altogether a braver and better race of men, and partaking
more of the character of the Patagonians,--both in point of _physique_
and _morale_,--of which tribes, indeed, they are evidently only a
branch. In their dealings with white men, when fairly treated, these
have exhibited the same noble bearing which characterises the true
Patagonian. I shall not, therefore, lower the standard--neither of
their bodies nor their minds--by classing them among "Pampas Indians."
Of these tribes--one and all of them--we have, unfortunately, a much
less favourable impression; and shall therefore be able to say but
little to their credit.
The different names are all native. _Puelches_ means the people living
to the east, from "_puel_," east, and _che_, people. The _Picunches_
derive this appellation, in a similar fashion, from "_picun_,"
signifying the north. The _Pehuenches_ are the people of the pine-tree
country, from "_pehuen_," the name for the celebrated "Chili pine"
(_Araucaria_); and the _Ranqueles_ are the men who dwell among the
thistles, from _ranquel_, a thistle.
These national appellations will give some idea of the locality which
each tribe inhabits. The _Ranqueles_ dwell, not among the thistles,--
for that would be an unpleasant residence, even to a red-skin; but along
the western border of this tract. To the westward of them, and up into
the clefts of the Cordilleras extends the country of the Pehuenches; and
northward of both lies the land of the Picunches. Their boundary in
that direction _should be_ the frontiers of the _quasi-civilised_
provinces of San Luis and Cordova, but they are _not_; for the Picunche
can at will extend his plundering forays as far north as he pleases:
even to _dovetailing_ them into the similar excursions of his _Guaycuru_
kinsmen from the "Gran Chaco" on the north.
The Puelche territory is on the eastern side of the Pampas, and south
from Buenos Ayres. At one time these people occupied the country to the
banks of the La Plata; and no doubt it was they who first met the
Spaniards in hostile array. Even up to a late period their forays
extended almost to Buenos Ayres itself; but Rosas, tyrant as he may have
been, was nevertheless a true soldier, and in a grand military
expedition against them swept their country, and inflicted such a
terrible chastisement upon both them and the neighbouring tribes, as
they had not suffered since the days of Mendoza. The result has been a
retirement of the Puelche frontier to a much greater distance from
Buenos Ayres; but how long it may continue stationary is a question,--no
longer than some strong arm--such as that of Rosas--is held
threateningly over them.
It is usual to inquire whence come a people; and the question has been
asked of the Pampas Indians. It is not difficult to answer. They came
from the land of Arauco. Yes, they are the kindred of that famed people
whom the Spaniards could never subdue,--even with all their strength put
forth in the effort. They are near kindred too,--the Pehuenches
especially,--whose country is only separated from that of the
Araucanians by the great Cordillera of Chili; and with whom, as well as
the Spaniards on the Chilian side, they have constant and friendly
intercourse.
But it must be admitted, that the Araucanians have had far more than
their just meed of praise. The romantic stories, in that endless epic
of the rhymer Ercilla, have crept into history; and the credulous Molina
has endorsed them: so that the true character of the Araucanian Indian
has never been understood. Brave he has shown himself, beyond doubt, in
defending his country against Spanish aggression; but so, too, has the
Carib and Guaraon,--so, too, has the Comanche and Apache, the Yaqui of
Sonora, the savage of the Mosquito shore, the Guaycuru of the Gran
Chaco, and a score of other Indian tribes,--in whose territory the
Spaniard has never dared to fix a settlement. Brave is the Araucanian;
but, beyond this, he has few virtues indeed. He is cruel in the
extreme,--uncivil and selfish,--filthy and indolent,--a polygamist in
the most approved fashion,--a very tyrant over his own,--in short,
taking rank among the beastliest of semi-civilised savages,--for it may
be here observed, that he is not exactly what is termed a _savage_: that
is, he does not go naked, and sleep in the open air. On the contrary,
he clothes himself in stuff of his own weaving,--or rather, that of his
slave-wives,--and lives in a hut which they build for him. He owns
land, too,--beautiful fields,--of which he makes no use: except to
browse a few horses, and sheep, and cattle. For the rest, he is too
indolent to pursue agriculture; and spends most of his time in drinking
_chicha_, or tyrannising over his wives. This is the heroic Araucanian
who inhabits the plains and valleys of Southern Chili.
Unfortunately, by passing to the other side of the Andes, he has not
improved his manners. The air of the Pampas does not appear to be
conducive to virtue; and upon that side of the mountains it can scarce
be said to exist,--even in the shape of personal courage. The men of
the pines and thistles seem to have lost this quality, while passing
through the snows of the Cordilleras, or left it behind them, as they
have also left the incipient civilisation of their race. On the Pampas
we find them once more in the character of the true savage: living by
the chase or by plunder; and bartering the produce of the latter for the
trappings and trinkets of personal adornment, supplied them by the
unprincipled white trader. Puelches and Picunches, Pehuenches and
Ranqueles, all share this character alike,--all are treacherous,
quarrelsome, and cowardly.
But we shall now speak more particularly of their customs and modes of
life, and we may take the "pine people" as our text,--since these are
supposed to be most nearly related to the true Araucanians,--and,
indeed, many of their "ways" are exactly the same as those of that
"heroic nation."
The "people of the pines" are of the ordinary stature of North-American
Indians, or of Europeans; and their natural colour is a dark coppery
hue. But it is not often you can see them in their natural colour: for
the Pampas Indians, like nearly all the aboriginal tribes, are
"painters." They have pigments of black and white, blue, red, and
yellow,--all of which they obtain from different coloured stones, found
in the streams of the Cordilleras. "Yama," they call the black stone;
"colo," the red; "palan," the white; and "codin," the blue; the yellow
they obtain from a sort of argillaceous earth. The stones of each
colour they submit to a rubbing or grinding process, until a quantity of
dust is produced; which, being mixed with suet, constitutes the paint,
ready for being laid on.
The Pampas Indians do not confine themselves to any particular
"escutcheon." In this respect their fancy is allowed a wide scope, and
their fashions change. A face quite black, or red, is a common
countenance among them; and often may be seen a single band, of about
two inches in width, extending from ear to ear across the eyes and nose.
On war excursions they paint hideous figures: not only on their own
faces and bodies, but on their trappings, and even upon the bodies of
their horses,--aiming to render themselves as appalling as possible in
the sight of their enemies. The same trick is employed by the warriors
of the prairies, as well as in many other parts of the world. Under
ordinary circumstances, the Pampas Indian is not a _naked_ savage. On
the contrary, he is well clad; and, so far from obtaining the material
of his garments from the looms of civilised nations, he weaves it for
himself,--that is, his wives weave it; and in such quantity that he has
not only enough for his own "wear," but more than enough, a surplus for
trade. The cloth is usually a stuff spun and woven from sheep's wool.
It is coarse, but durable; and in the shape of blankets or "ponchos," is
eagerly purchased by the Spanish traders. Silver spurs, long, pointed
knives, lance-heads, and a few other iron commodities, constitute the
articles of exchange, with various ornamental articles, as beads, rings,
bracelets, and large-headed silver bodkins to fasten their cloaks around
the shoulders of his "ladies." Nor is he contented with mere tinsel, as
other savages are,--he can tell the difference between the real metal
and the counterfeit, as well as the most expert assayer; and if he
should fancy to have a pair of silver spurs, not even a Jew peddler
could put off upon him the plated "article." In this respect the
Araucanian Indian has been distinguished, since his earliest intercourse
with Europeans; and his Pampas kindred are equally subtle in their
appreciation.
The Pampas Indian, when well dressed, has a cloak upon his shoulders of
the thick woollen stuff already described. It is usually woven in
colours; and is not unlike the "poncho" worn by the "gauchos" of Buenos
Ayres, or the "serape" of the Mexicans. Besides the cloak, his dress
consists of a mere skirt,--also of coloured woollen stuff, being an
oblong piece swathed around his loins, and reaching to the knee. A sash
or belt--sometimes elaborately ornamented--binds the cloth around the
waist. Boots of a peculiar construction complete the costume. These
are manufactured in a very simple manner. The fresh skin taken from a
horse's hind leg is drawn on--just as if it were a stocking--until the
heel rests in that part which covered the hock-joint of the original
wearer. The superfluous portion is then trimmed to accommodate itself
as a covering for the foot; and the boot is not only finished, but put
on,--there to remain until it is worn out, and a new one required! If
it should be a little loose at first, that does not matter. The hot
sun, combined with the warmth of the wearer's leg, soon contracts the
hide, and brings it to "fit like a glove." The head is often left
uncovered; but as often a sort of skullcap or helmet of horse-skin is
worn; and not unfrequently a high, conical hat of palm fibre. This last
is not a native production, but an importation of the traders. So also
is a pair of enormous rings of brass, which are worn in the ears; and
are as bulky as a pair of padlocks. In this costume, mounted on
horseback with his long lance in hand, the Pampas Indian would be a
picturesque, object; and really is so, when _clean_; but that is only on
the very rarest occasions,--only when he has donned a new suit. At all
other times, not only his face and the skin of his body, but every rag
upon his back, are covered with grease and filth,--so as to produce an
effect rather "tatterdemalion" than picturesque.
The "squaw" is costumed somewhat differently. First, she has a long
"robe," which covers her from neck to heels, leaving only her neck and
arms bare. The robe is of red or blue woollen stuff of her own weaving.
This garment is the "quedeto." A belt, embroidered with beads, called
"quepique," holds it around the waist, by means of a large silver
buckle. This belt is an article, of first fashion. Over the shoulders
hangs the "iquilla," which is a square piece of similar stuff,--but
usually of a different dye; and which is fastened in front by a pin with
a large silver head, called the "tupo." The shock of thick, black
hair--after having received the usual anointment of mare's tallow, the
fashionable hair-oil of the Pampas Indians--is kept in its place by a
sort of cap or _coiffure_, like a shallow dish inverted, and bristling
all over with trader's beads. To this a little bell is fastened; or
sometimes a brace of them are worn as earrings. These tinkle so
agreeably in the ears of the wearer, that she can scarce for a moment
hold her head at rest, but keeps rocking it from side to side, as a
Spanish coquette would play with her fan.
In addition to this varied wardrobe, the Pampas belle carries a large
stock of bijouterie,--such as beads and bangles upon her neck, rings and
circlets upon her arms, ankles, and fingers; and, to set her snaky locks
in order, she separates them by means of a stiff brush, made from the
fibrous roots of a reed. _She_ is _picturesque_ enough, but never
_pretty_. Nature has given the Araucanian woman a plain face; and all
the adornment in the world cannot hide its homeliness.
The Pehuenche builds no house. He is a true nomade, and dwells in a
tent, though one of the rudest construction. As it differs entirely
from the tent of the prairie Indians, it may be worth while describing
it.
Its framework is of reeds,--of the same kind as are used for the long
lances so often mentioned; and which resemble _bambusa_ canes. They
grow in plenty throughout the Pampas, especially near the mountains,--
where they form impenetrable thickets on the borders of the marshy
lakes. Any other flexible poles will serve as well, when the canes are
not "handy."
The poles being procured, one is first bent into a semicircle, and in
this shape both ends are stuck into the ground, so as to form an arch
about three feet in height. This arch afterwards becomes the doorway or
entrance to the tent. The remaining poles are attached to this first
one at one end, and at right angles; and being carried backward with a
slight bend, their other ends are inserted into the turf. This forms
the skeleton of the tent; and its covering is a horse-skin, or rather a
number of horse-skins stitched together, making a sort of large
tarpaulin. The skins are sewed with the sinews of the horse or ox,--
which are first chewed by the women, until their fibres become separated
like hemp, and are afterwards spun by them into twine.
The tent is not tall enough to admit of a man standing erect; and in it
the Pehuenche crouches, whenever it snows, rains, or blows cold. He has
sheep-skins spread to sleep upon, and other skins to serve as
bed-clothes,--all in so filthy a condition, that but for the cold, he
might find it far more comfortable to sleep in the open air. He never
attempts to sweep out this miserable lair; but when the spot becomes
_very_ filthy, he "takes up his sticks" and shifts his penates to a
fresh "location." He is generally, however, too indolent to make a
"remove,"--until the dirt has accumulated so as to "be in the way."
The Pampas Indian is less of a hunter than most other tribes of savages.
He has less need to be,--at least, in modern days; for he is in
possession of three kinds of valuable domestic animals, upon which he
can subsist without hunting,--horses, horned cattle, and sheep. Of
course, these are of colonial origin. He hunts, nevertheless, for
amusement, and to vary his food. The larger ostrich (_rhea Americana_),
the guanaco, and the great "gama" stag of the Pampas (_cervus
campestris_) are his usual game. These he captures with the _bolas_,--
which is his chief implement for the chase. In the flesh of the stag he
may find a variety, but not a delicacy. Its venison would scarce tempt
a Lucullian palate,--since even the hungriest Gaucho will not eat it.
It is a large beast, often weighing above three hundred pounds; and
infecting the air with such a rank odour, that dogs decline to follow it
in the chase. This odour is generated in a pair of glands situated near
the eyes; and it has the power of projecting it at will,--just as skunks
and polecats when closely chased by an enemy. If these glands are cut
out immediately after the animal is killed, the flesh tastes well
enough: otherwise it is too rank to be eatable. The Indians cure it of
the "bad smell" by burying it for several days in the ground; which has
the effect of "sweetening" it, while at the same time it makes it more
tender.
But the Pampas Indian does not rely upon the chase for his subsistence.
He is a small grazier in his way; and is usually accompanied in his
wanderings by a herd of horned cattle and sheep. He has also his stud
of horses; which furnish the staple of his food,--for whenever he
hungers, a horse is "slaughtered." Strictly speaking, it is not a
horse, for it is the mare that is used for this purpose. In no part of
the Pampas region,--not even in the white settlement,--are the mares
used for riding. It would be considered derogatory to the character of
either Gaucho or Indian to mount a mare; and these are kept only for
breeding purposes. Not that the Indian is much of a horse-breeder. He
keeps up his stock in quite another way,--by stealing. The same remark
will apply to the mode by which he recruits his herds of horned cattle,
and his flocks of sheep. The last he values only for their wool; out of
which his garments are woven; and which has replaced the scantier fleece
of the vicuna and guanaco,--the material used by him in days gone by.
From whom does he steal these valuable animals,--and in such numbers as
almost to subsist upon them? That is a question that can be easily
answered; though it is not exact language to say that he steals them.
Rather say that he _takes_ them, by main force and in open daylight,--
takes them from the Creole Spaniard,--the Gaucho and _estanciero_. Nay,
he does not content himself always with four-footed plunder; but often
returns from his forays with a crowd of captives,--women and children,
with white skins and ruddy cheeks,--afterwards to be converted into his
drudges and slaves. Not alone to the frontier does he extend these
plundering expeditions; but even into the heart of the Spanish
settlements,--to the estancias of grandees, and the gates of fortified
towns; and, strange as it may read, this condition of things has been in
existence, not for years, but, at intervals, extending over a century!
But what may read stranger still--and I can vouch for it as true--is,
that _white men_ actually purchase this plunder from him,--not the human
part of it, but the four-footed and the _furniture_,--for this, too,
sometimes forms part of his booty. Yes, the surplus, of which the
Indian can make no use or cares nothing about,--more especially the
large droves of fine horses, taken from the Spaniards of Buenos Ayres,--
are driven through the passes of the Cordilleras, and sold to the
Spaniards of Chili! the people of one province actually encouraging the
robbery of their kindred race in another! The very same condition of
things exists in North America. The Comanche, steals, or rather takes,
from the white settler of Tamaulipas and New Leon,--the Apache rieves
from the white settler of Chihuahua and Sonora: both sell to the white
settlers, who dwell along the banks of the Rio del Norte! And all these
settlers are of one race,--one country,--one kindred! These things have
hitherto been styled _cosas de Mexico_. Their signification may be
extended to South America: since they are equally _cosas de las Pampas_.
We are not permitted to doubt the truth of these appalling facts,--
neither as regards the nefarious traffic, nor the captive women and
children. At this very hour, not less than four thousand individuals of
Spanish-Mexican race are held captives by the prairie tribes; and when
Rosas swept the Pampas, he released fifteen hundred of similar
unfortunates from their worse than Egyptian taskmasters,--the Puelches!
With such facts as these before our eyes, who can doubt the decline of
the Spanish power? the utter enfeeblement of that once noble race? Who
can contradict the hypothetical prophecy--more than once offered in
these pages--that if the two races be left to themselves, the
aboriginal, before the lapse of a single century, will once more recover
the soil; and his haughty victor be swept from the face of the American
continent?
Nor need such a change be too keenly regretted. The Spanish occupation
of America has been an utter failure. It has served no high human
purpose, but the contrary. It has only corrupted and encowardiced a
once brave and noble race; and, savage as may be the character of that
which would supplant it, still that savage has within him the elements
of a future civilisation.
Not so the Spaniard. The fire of his civilisation has blazed up with a
high but fitful gleam. It has passed like the lightning's flash. Its
sparks have fallen and died out,--never to be rekindled again.