A VISIT TO THE NITRATE FIELDS
In the early part of that same year I had joined the Board of Directors
of the Leonor Nitrate Company, and as I was anxious to make myself
familiar with the manufacture of Nitrate, at the end of 1907 I
accompanied a very old friend of mine, Mr. Reginald Morris, to Chile,
for a trip to the Nitrate Fields. Reggie Morris was on the Board of a
number of Nitrate Companies and Chairman of the Leonor, and had been
out on business to Chile before, so my excursion was made under the
most favourable auspices. We started from Southampton on a fine ship,
the s.s. _Avon_, belonging to the Royal Mail Steamship Company, and,
after coming in for a very heavy gale in the Bay, arriving successively
at Vigo and Lisbon to pick up some 400 emigrants, proceeded on
our journey, calling at Madeira, Bahia and Rio de Janeiro on our
way,--almost the same route that I had already gone by under sail, the
first time I went to sea in the old training frigate, _Bristol_, some
thirty-six years before.
There were a number of Argentine passengers on board, most of whom, (as
they adore Paris), we had picked up at Cherbourg, where the ship stayed
for a few hours after leaving Southampton.
Nothing of the smallest interest happened on our journey out; the
only salient fact that remains in my memory is, that I came to the
conclusion that Argentine children, with which the ship swarmed, were
the most unruly and badly-brought-up specimens I had ever come across.
They made day and night hideous with their noise; their parents and
governesses could not exert even the smallest control over them, and I
solemnly wished that there had been a new Herod on board to massacre
these "innocents." I just had sufficient knowledge of Spanish to
recognise "swear words," and the language used to the stewards and
servants by these afore-mentioned "innocents" would have shocked any of
the topmen of my sailing-ship days.
About the middle of the month we arrived at Rio, and were two full days
there, so we left the ship and spent the night at a delightful hotel
high up the Corcavado Mountains, which is reached by its own little
funicular railway. It was midsummer in South America, and I shall never
forget the gorgeous views over the harbour from this mountain hotel. It
happened to be full moon at the time, so we and our fellow-passengers
strolled about in the garden for hours after dinner, quite unable to
go to bed, so beautiful was the scene. By the vivid light of a full
tropical moon the whole of that wonderful panorama that is Rio Harbour
was plainly visible in every detail; indeed so vivid was the moonlight
that it was almost possible to see colour in the hibiscus that grew
like weeds in the garden of the hotel. The next day we had a long
morning drive in a most up-to-date motor-car that had been lent to us
by Mr. Sheppard, which took us for miles on fine roads bordered by that
tropical vegetation that is perhaps more gorgeous at Rio than almost
anywhere.
The mention of our drive in Mr. Sheppard's car reminds me that that
gentleman, who is so well known in South America as being, amongst
other things, Managing Director of perhaps the most successful industry
outside the United Kingdom, was a sort of "Fairy Godmother" to us
during our stay at Rio. He met us when we arrived, provided us with
motors and steam-launches, entertained us most hospitably, and finally
put us on board and saw us off.
By the 25th of November we were comfortably lodged at a very good hotel
in Buenos Ayres, where we had to wait until the train,--which in those
days, I think, only ran twice a week as an express,--could take us on
our way to the frontier.
We were most hospitably received by the Argentine gentlemen for whom
we had letters, and were made honorary members of the Jockey Club,
a palatial residence about twice the size of Stafford House. Things
are done on a large scale in the Argentine. I discovered that the
entrance fee for members of the Club was £300! One of our hosts was a
charming man--Don Carlos Tompkinson, a descendant on one side of that
well-known old Cheshire family. He himself was a great racing man, and
to my delight made arrangements for us to go out to luncheon at M.
Correa's stud farm, a few miles outside the Capital. M. Correa was
the gentleman who had purchased the King's horse, Diamond Jubilee,
for £30,000, a year or two before. His stud farm was an enormous
establishment, and, in addition to Diamond Jubilee, there were two
other very high-class stallions standing there, one of them being
that good French horse, le Sancy. To show the scale that M. Correa's
horse-breeding was done on, I happened to say to him that £30,000 was a
high price, but I supposed that so many subscriptions would be taken to
Diamond Jubilee that no doubt the horse would be a paying asset, when,
to my surprise, he told me that he took no subscription, and that his
three horses were never mated except with his own mares, of which he
owned the best part of a hundred.
A few days elapsed and we were in the train that crosses the great
Argentine plain that reaches to Mendoza, a fair-sized town at the base
of the Andes. At Mendoza we changed to the funicular railway, that in
those days only reached as far as Los Quevas, where we found the work
on the Transandine Tunnel in full blast. The tunnel has long since been
completed, and the line now runs through it direct to the Capital,
Santiago de Chile.
At Los Quevas there was a sort of rest-house where we passed the
night, and at six the next morning we mounted our mules and rode over
the pass, and though it is almost the lowest of the Andes passes,
even there a height of 13,000 feet is reached. I had looked forward
immensely to the ride, which I expected to enjoy, but all enjoyment was
made, more or less, impossible, for, like every one else, I suffered
from mountain sickness, which, though it only took, in my case, the
form of a splitting headache, was sufficiently disagreeable to discount
considerably the pleasure of riding over the Andes.
At this altitude we had, of course, easily reached the snow line, and
felt the cold considerably, having been fairly roasted in the train
only the day before; but in spite of all these trifling inconveniences,
it was an interesting ride, and the scenery was very wild and grand.
The mules were good beasts, but, being generally in the habit of
carrying packs, preferred to walk on the extreme edge of the mountain
paths that we had to ascend, and until one became accustomed to it,
there was something rather uncanny in proceeding in single file with
one's outside leg well over the edge of the precipices. But it is quite
useless to attempt to argue with a mule, and we soon got used to it.
At almost the extreme summit of the pass there is a colossal statue
of Our Saviour, which marks the boundary between the two countries
of Argentine and Chile, and the descent at once commences. The mules
carried us as far as the Chilean village of Huncal, and there the
passengers, with their luggage, were trans-shipped into a number of
rattletrap carriages which drove at a furious speed down the mountain
side to the first railway-station on the Chilean side, where we took
train to Santiago, at which place we arrived on the 1st of December.
At Santiago we settled down for a few days at the Hôtel Oddo, as
there were some business men to interview on the subject of Nitrate
Concessions, one of whom was a gentleman who is now well known in
London, namely Señor Augustine Edwards, for he and his charming wife,
Madame Edwards, have, for some time past, been representing Chile, at
the Chilean Legation in Grosvenor Square. Another leading personage
amongst the business men of Chile, whose acquaintance I was fortunate
enough to make out there, was Señor Merry del Val, a brother of the
well-known Cardinal of that name, another brother of the same family
being Don Alfonso Merry del Val, the Spanish Ambassador at present in
London.
Santiago is quite an attractive town, beautifully situated at the base
of the Andes, and with every sort of comfort in the shape of a good
hotel and an excellent club. At the time, I was much struck with the
enormous number of unfinished churches that abounded in the Capital,
and naturally wanted to "know the reason why." I was told,--but whether
it is true or not I have not a notion,--that as long as a church is
in construction money is sent from Rome to assist in the building
expenses, this grant obviously coming to an end when the sacred edifice
is completed. Oddly enough, apparently no church ever is finished, so
the grant goes on almost to perpetuity. _Se non è vero, è ben trovato._
We succeeded in getting a day's racing at Santiago before leaving for
Valparaiso to embark for Iquique, the principal Nitrate Port on the
Chilean coast. There is so much Spanish blood in the Chilean nation
that great punctuality is not to be expected; but even then, it was
rather more than one could bargain for, to find that the first race
advertised for 2.30, did not start eventually until a little after five!
It was an easy journey to Valparaiso, and after a short stay there we
embarked on a coasting steamer that duly conveyed us to Iquique, where
we arrived on December 9th, and where the real work of the tour was to
commence.
On arriving at Iquique we were met by Mr. Noel Clarke, who, besides
being British Consul, was also the head of a large firm which did
general trade all along the coast, and was intimately connected with
the Nitrate business. Noel Clarke was destined to have a very busy time
during the next few months, as will be explained later. Meanwhile, he
and his very charming wife took us in at their house near the outskirts
of the town, where we lived during our stay at Iquique, in the greatest
comfort and in the pleasantest surroundings.
Iquique was not a bad sort of town at all. It boasted of some very
respectable public buildings, and, being largely inhabited by English
merchants, naturally possessed the inevitable club, race-course, and
polo-ground. Its principal source of prosperity really consisted in the
anchorage, where steamers and the large sailing-clippers could lie very
comfortably waiting for their cargoes of nitrate, the long sea-coast of
Chile being, on the whole, very badly off for harbours.
While on the subject of the coast, I must say something about my
impressions of the Pacific. I had sailed, in my time, on most seas,
but this visit was my first experience of the Pacific Ocean, and I
found it extraordinarily attractive. Though I have never seen it
except when it was completely acting up to its name, I have no doubt
but what occasional terrific gales occur there, as elsewhere. But what
delighted me was the bird and beast life of the coast (I wonder whether
a sea-lion is correctly described as a beast?), and the eternal and
enormous rollers that never ceased to tumble in. What caused these
huge waves remained a mystery to me, for, after days of absolutely
flat calm, without a breath of wind, they still came rolling in as
majestically as ever. As a general rule, the little patch of smooth
water that is to be found inside the protection of the breakwater,
that exists at all the ports, is only deep enough for lighters and
small craft generally, so the steamers anchor outside and land their
passengers in boats. It is quite an exciting moment when the boat
reaches the narrow entrance. The usual practice is to wait just outside
the passage to the breakwater until three unusually heavy rollers have
expended themselves. The three very large ones are invariably followed
by a succession of small ones, advantage of which has to be taken at
once, and a dash made for the entrance. Meanwhile, sea-birds of every
sort and description are wheeling about in a cloudless sky or pursuing
their prey in the bluest of seas, and the amiable sea-lions and
sea-cows, and such like, loll about on the rocks all around and survey
the scene with perfect placidity.
A very few days after our arrival, we started for the Pampas, to pay
a round of visits to the different Nitrate establishments in which
Morris was interested, and to give me an opportunity of learning
something about the industry before visiting, and reporting on, the
Leonor, to which place I subsequently had to travel from Antofagasta,
a port some little distance to the southward of Iquique. The first
part of our journey was done on horseback, the place we were to visit
being only some twenty miles from the coast. All the rest of our
tour of inspection was done in a small special train, that had been
placed at our disposal for that purpose by the courtesy of the Railway
Authorities at Iquique.
We (our hostess and host, Morris and myself) started off one
afternoon about four, so as to escape the great heat of mid-day, and
arrived at our first halting-place in time for dinner after a most
delightful ride. The next day, of course, was spent in inspecting
the establishment, and, as far as I was concerned, in getting a more
finished knowledge of the business. The _caliche_, as the stuff is
called that is extracted by a species of surface mining, is put into
crushers and subsequently boiled, the residue turning into a white
powdery substance that is the nitrate of sodium required. There is
nothing very mysterious about the business, the only real peculiarity
of the nitrate fields is that, fortunately for the industry, rain is
absolutely unknown there, for a couple of days' heavy rain would wash
all the sodium out of the ground, and the Pampas would then be a desert
without the saving presence of an important industry. During the few
days I was up in these parts I visited several establishments that
were in the hands of English Companies; without exception they were
completely run by young Englishmen. These youths,--for they were very
little more,--were typical specimens of Public School boys, who, after
being knocked into shape at a Public School, and only being possessed
of limited private means, had started as clerks in the various business
houses on the coast, and then, as soon as they were considered
qualified, had been sent up country to assist in running an _officina_.
At some of these factories there were probably upwards of 600 workmen,
mostly Chilénos, men who are of a really fine fighting race, and apt to
be extremely turbulent. It made one feel proud of one's countrymen, to
see the admirable way that these young fellows handled their workmen.
I fancy what tended more to preserve law and order than anything else,
was the introduction of football, to which game the Chileans took very
kindly; and when they realised what hard plucky men they were working
under,--and nowhere, probably, are these qualities quicker detected
than they are at football,--turbulent as they were by nature, and
terribly inclined to be too ready with a revolver, it was extraordinary
how little trouble they generally gave. One of the questions invariably
asked by the visiting Directors was, whether the men had any complaint
to make about their treatment by the employers, and whether they made
any claim for an increase in wages. In every case that came under my
notice the invariable answer was that there were no complaints, and
this fact is fully corroborated by a Foreign Office dispatch that I
read many months after I had returned to England.
In view of what happened a day or two afterwards, this absence of any
apparent motive for trouble becomes a curious and interesting fact.
That there had been considerable labour difficulties recently, we
knew as soon as we had arrived at Iquique. There had been a strike
on the Nitrate Railway Works just before our arrival, but that had
been settled, and there was a strike of stevedores at Iquique still
in progress, when we left the coast for the Pampas, but as far as the
labourers of the various _officinas_ that we hoped to visit, were
concerned, we had no reason to suspect any mischief, and our first
two or three visits of inspection were made in a time (apparently)
of profound peace. It was somewhat of a surprise when, on the 14th
of December, only three days after our arrival, it became extremely
evident that a serious strike had begun in the Nitrate District,
and that the sooner we got into our train and returned to the coast
the better it would be,--the alternative being to be marooned in an
_officina_, where no work was going on, for an indefinite period.
Luckily our little special was lying in a siding close by, and off we
went just in time, for already the strikers had commenced their march
on Iquique. Indeed within a very few hours after the time that our
train had returned to that town, many hundreds of them (having very
wisely come to the conclusion that marching through the Pampas in
midsummer was exceedingly thirsty work), had seized what railway stock
they could lay their hands on, and, as many as there was room for, made
the journey to the coast by train.
Of course, as is the case in all strikes, in all countries, the usual
ineffective promise of protection by soldiers and police was given to
the many men who wished to go on with their extremely well-paid work,
but the threats and blows of the strikers proved far more effective
than Government promises; the line of least resistance was duly taken,
and the would-be workers joined the strike. As long as the strikers
were on the Pampas they did not behave particularly badly; they did not
in the least dislike the managers and staff at the _officinas_, under
whom they worked, and in no case, as far as I know, was any violence
or ill-treatment extended to them during the time of their forced
inactivity and species of imprisonment, while the railway was in the
hands of the strikers; and when our train crawled slowly through them,
stopping constantly to avoid accidents, they neither derailed it, nor
attempted to take possession of it, either of which they could have
easily done, and contented themselves with a certain amount of booing
and hissing, which broke no bones. Naturally, any establishment that
contained food or drink was at once looted, but beyond that next to
nothing in the way of damage to property was attempted.
However, as may be readily imagined, the members of our little party
were not sorry to be back on the coast again, to settle down at the
Casa Clarke until events had arranged themselves. We had no sooner
returned to Iquique on the evening of the 14th, before the news reached
us that the strike had become general so far as the Nitrate Fields
were concerned, and on the next day some 4000 men, apparently well
organised, could be seen marching down from the hills towards the
town. It was fairly evident by this time that there was going to be
serious trouble, and it is not to be denied that the strike leaders,
one of whom was said to be a well-known Spanish anarchist, had chosen
their moment well. To begin with, the Intendente of the Province,
Señor Carlos Eastman, was at Santiago, where he had gone to present
his resignation to the President; the General commanding the district,
General Silva Renard, and his second in command, were both away in
Santiago, leaving the troops in temporary charge of a comparatively
inexperienced officer, and he, like all temporary commanders, was
extremely averse to taking the responsibility for decided measures;
and, by way of making the list of absentees complete, the Prefect
of Police was also in the Capital. In addition, as I have mentioned
before, the stevedores were also out on strike, so one way and another
the position was extremely unpleasant.
At first, the Acting Commandante of the Troops seemed as if he were
disposed to enforce order, and when the first lot of strikers from the
Pampas arrived in the vicinity of the town, they were headed off by
troops to a camp that had been prepared for them on the race-course,
and there seemed some prospect of the men returning to the Pampas in
trains which the Nitrate Railway Company were very ready to place at
their disposal.
Apparently this attitude was only a bluff, for what eventually happened
was, (in spite of the assurances given by the Acting Commandante of the
Troops and the Acting Intendente of the Province, that the strikers
would be prevented from entering the town by the military), that on
the next day, the 16th of December, the Pampas strikers, and the
transport-workers strikers of the town, joined together, took complete
charge of the town, and stopped not only all traffic, but all work
of every description, all the shops having been forced to close, and,
meanwhile, reinforcements of strikers were hourly arriving from the
Pampas, some on foot and others in trains that they had commandeered.
It is hardly necessary to say that, during these days, Reggie Morris
and myself, living, as we were, at the English Consulate, knew from
hour to hour what was going on, from our host, for we occasionally saw
him when he came to his house to snatch a morsel of food. He displayed
the greatest energy, and, had his advice been taken by the Authorities,
in all probability a great deal of inconvenience, to say nothing of
bloodshed, would have been saved. But whenever he requested the Acting
Commandante to take certain measures with regard to the railway, which
belonged to a British company, his proposals were invariably first
accepted, and then never carried out, and when he attempted to confer
with the Acting Intendente he was always informed that this great
official was either too busy or else asleep, and referred to some one
else, who was generally a lawyer interested in local politics.
For the inside of a week the town of Iquique was in a state of subdued
chaos. Nothing happened; there were no tramways running, no cabs, no
shops open, and, oddly enough, next to no disorder. The market was open
for a short time in the morning, whither our intrepid hostess used
daily to drive her pony cart, returning with the day's provisions.
There was absolutely nothing to do all day, and, judging from our own
feelings, the inhabitants of Iquique must have been slowly dying of
intense boredom. As for ourselves, except for an hour or two in the
evening when we mounted our host's ponies and went for a gallop down
the coast and round the race-course, occupation we had none.
But meanwhile things were beginning to move at Santiago. Noel Clarke
had been in constant telegraphic communication with Mr. Rennie,
then the British Chargé des Affaires, and received at last the
welcome intelligence that the real Intendente, Señor Carlos Eastman,
accompanied by General Renard, were leaving Valparaiso in the Chilian
warship _Zenteno_, with reinforcements of troops. Very shortly
afterwards, another Chilian cruiser, the _Esmeralda_, arrived, but
without the troops, that she was expected to bring.
Though there was but little actual disorder in the town, a number of
the more respectable families began to get alarmed, principally owing
to the panic-stricken attitude of their servants, a number of the
women having taken refuge on board the merchant ships in the harbour.
There was some cause for anxiety, the real danger being that of fire.
A town like Iquique, largely built of wood, where rain is unknown, and
where the water supply depends upon a pipe-line from the hills, is
particularly open to danger of conflagration when in the hands of some
thousands of strikers, many of whose pockets are known to be stuffed
full of dynamite.
The only other amusement, besides the evening ride, was to attend the
meetings held by the strikers. Spaniards of all shades are passionately
fond of oratory and of the sound of their own voices. I suppose the
inherent beauty and sonority of their language fascinates them, and the
speeches were endless. I, alas! have very little knowledge of Spanish,
so did not understand much, but I gathered from those who knew the
language that their eloquence was principally employed in condemning
the Government, vituperating the employers, and, what was novel in
Chile, preaching an anti-European doctrine.
However, the climax was approaching.
On the 19th, the _Zenteno_ arrived with Don Carlos Eastman, General
Renard, and a welcome reinforcement in the shape of the O'Higgins
Regiment.
The Intendente duly landed, the streets being lined with troops. All
the strikers congregated to witness his arrival, their total number in
the small town of Iquique being estimated at anything between 12,000
and 16,000 men.
On the following day the Intendente received a deputation consisting
of the committee of the strikers. He then called a meeting of the
employers, and finally had a private interview with Noel Clarke, as
doyen of the Foreign Consuls at Iquique.
On the morning of the 21st, a state of siege was proclaimed in the
town, proclamations to that effect being posted, and notices in the
local papers. One more attempt was made by the Intendente to induce the
strikers to return to their work, but his note received an insolent
answer couched in a sort of semiofficial language, which pointed to
the fact that it was more of an attempt at a revolution, than a mere
strike of workmen, that was confronting the Chilean Government.
Fortunately for Chile, and for the Europeans who were in that country
or had interests there, Don Carlos Eastman was a man who was not to
be trifled with by an ignorant mob of strikers, headed by a band of
anarchists and revolutionaries. The time for action had come, and
was quickly seized. Owing to the overcrowding of the town by these
thousands of strikers; (in addition to the danger of conflagration
already alluded to,) there was a distinct risk of an epidemic breaking
out, from the said overcrowding, and the filthy and insanitary habits
of the men from the Pampas. Measures had to be taken to remove these
unwelcome guests from the town, and they were taken at once.
The General in command of the troops was commanded by the Intendente
to surround the strikers in the principal square, the Escuela Santa
Maria, where they were holding one of their everlasting meetings, and
order them to leave the town; warning them that if they had not moved
off before the clock struck four, force would be used. Meanwhile, every
effort was made by the officers present, from the General downwards,
to persuade the strikers to retire, but all their eloquence was only
met, by counter-abuse and violent and revolutionary speeches by the
men's leaders, who then retired to the building which was used as the
headquarters of the committee. The General then ordered all peaceful
inhabitants to withdraw. Advantage of this was taken by some of the
strikers, who left the ranks of their comrades. At the last stroke of
four, fire was opened on the building that sheltered the committee,
and on the strikers, by a couple of machine-guns. The firing lasted
about a minute, and then, without any further fuss, a long column of
strikers marched out of the town to the race-course, flanked on either
side by troops, and almost immediately began to entrain to go back to
their work on the Nitrate Fields.
While the firing was going on we were all on the roof of the Casa
Clarke, about a quarter of a mile from the Escuela Santa Maria, but as
soon as it was over Morris and I went down into the street to watch the
procession pass.
The Chileans are a fine fighting race, and, to use the old "ring"
expression, took their "gruel" like men. I heard afterwards that
they had begun to return the fire with revolvers and carbines, but
machine-gun fire was too much for them, and in about a minute there
were about four hundred of them down, of which some one hundred and
twenty or so were dead. When they passed us in the street, though every
now and then a badly wounded man would fall down in his tracks, there
were no complaints or curses at the troops. They simply realised that
the leaders had lost, and that they had to pay for it. As usual, not
a single one of these same leaders, who were pretty well known to the
authorities, were found amongst the killed or wounded, and all attempts
to get hold of them failed. Somehow or another, with the aid of their
sympathisers in the town, they all succeeded in getting clear away.
I do not propose to deduce any moral from this rather detailed account
of a strike of a few thousand workmen in a South American Republic;
but in these days, when we all live, in this country, under the
perpetual threat of strikes of all sorts and descriptions, up to a
General Strike, it may be of interest to any one who happens to read
these pages, to learn, how officials who are not afraid to act, (though
living in a thoroughly democratic country under a Republican form of
Government,) can restore law and order, when they are threatened with
revolution, under the guise of labour discontent.
With the return of the Nitrate workers to the Pampas, the worst of the
strike was over; but Iquique was still distinctly non-normal during the
rest of my short stay there.
I was very anxious to get down the coast to Antofagasta to visit the
Leonor property and report on it before returning to England, where
I was due for duty on the 1st of February; but the difficulty was
to find a steamer that was going down the coast, as, owing to the
strike of the stevedores, they could not take in cargo. However, I
eventually succeeded in getting a passage in a tramp steamer that
was going in the right direction. The next difficulty was to get on
board, as there was still a transport strike going on, and consequently
no public conveyances were available. I wrote to the Intendente and
explained my situation as regards having to be back in England by
a certain date, and he at once came to the rescue. As far as water
transport was concerned, I was quite all right, as Captain Wilson,
commanding the Chilean Cruiser _Zenteno_, was an old comrade of mine
and promptly produced a steam pinnace to put me on board my steamer.
I shall never forget my triumphant exit from Iquique. At the hour of
my departure a most forlorn old pony-victoria, dragged by two equally
forlorn mules, turned up at the door of the Casa Clarke, this equipage
being surrounded by one of the best turned out and smartest escorts,
(of Lancers), that I have ever seen. My luggage naturally filled the
inside of the little carriage to overflowing, as well as the so-called
box-seat, so away I went, sitting on the top of my pile of luggage,
with the escort round me, amidst the laughter and jeers of my kindest
of hosts and hostesses, and of my Chairman, who was remaining at
Iquique, to finish off his interrupted visit to the _officinas_ of the
Tarapaca district.
The rest of my journey was quite uneventful. My steamer took me to
Antofagasta, where I passed a few busy days inspecting the Leonor
property, that had been recently acquired by the Company on whose
board I sat. Our mining surveyor, who had reported on it, had, through
no fault of his own, rather let us down. A sufficient proportion of
nitrate was present all right, but, unfortunately, the rock that it
was mixed up with proved on working to be abnormally hard, and was
constantly breaking our crushing-engines, so eventually the property
was not looked upon as a first-class paying proposition and was sold.
When I was there, the crushing had hardly begun, and the report I sent
to my Chairman was more concerned with the buildings of the _officina_,
the managing officers, and the water supply.
I succeeded in hitting off another steamer going south, and a few
days afterwards was in Valparaiso. There I only waited for the
Transandine train, which, as it turned out, entailed three or four
days' delay,--days very pleasantly spent at Vigna-del-Mar, a charming
suburb a few miles out of the town where all the rich merchants
have their villas, and where there is also about the best hotel in
Chile. Amongst other attractions, it boasted of a race-course, and a
little club, where I believe very big baccarat occasionally went on;
altogether "Vigna," as it was always called, was an extremely pleasant
place. My journey back over the Andes was extremely like the outward
trip, the only difference was that from the Pacific side the pass
was crossed over in a four-horsed carriage instead of mule-back. I
infinitely preferred the mule, as it was sickening to have to witness
the everlasting flogging of the good and willing horses by their brutal
drivers. I had another short stay at Buenos Ayres while waiting for
the mail boat, and eventually returned to England in the last days of
January, just in time to take up a month's duty as Equerry-in-Waiting.