THE CITY OF SAINT JAMES
“We will call this city Santiago (Saint James), for he has guided us
thus far,” said Pedro de Valdivia, as he staked out the level ground
surrounding a lofty rock into square blocks, one of which was given to
each of his followers.
Few cities in the world have as fine a location as this City of Saint
James. It lies in the centre of a magnificent amphitheatre, about forty
miles long and perhaps eighteen miles wide, which is enclosed by a mighty
wall of mountains on all sides save one, half of which are covered with
perpetual snows. The Mapocho River, which flows through the city through
an artificial channel, escapes from the valley through the opening on
the south, which leads into the great central valley that forms the
real heart of the republic. The great amphitheatre in which Santiago
is situated is divided into large _haciendas_, on which are erected
magnificent mansions that resemble the ancient baronial homes of England.
In these the owners live and rule almost like lords of old.
Santiago was founded as the first town in Chile. Valdivia erected a
stronghold on the rock, which he named Santa Lucia, and then set to work
to build the city at its base, which he had named after the patron saint
of Spain. The squares were laid out with the lines running east and west,
north and south. Each of his followers to whom was given a square for a
garden, was required to construct a house for his own use. Thus it will
be seen that Santiago is not a new city, nor has its growth been of the
mushroom variety. Founded in the sixteenth century, it preserves in wood
and stone, to a great extent, the spirit of old Spain transplanted to
the New World. The Spanish cavalier stalked in complete mail through the
streets of Santiago before the _Mayflower_ landed the pilgrims on the
shores of Massachusetts. The priests were chanting the solemn service of
the church here long before the English landed at Jamestown. Dust had
gathered on the volumes in the municipal library of this city centuries
preceding the building of the first little red school-house in the
United States. Before New York was even thought of, the drama of life was
being enacted daily in this beautiful valley after Castilian models.
[Illustration: SANTA LUCIA.]
But let us take a look at this ancient capital. At one side of the city
is El Cerro de Santa Lucia, a mass of volcanic rock almost as high as
the Washington Monument. It has a base of several acres, but gradually
narrows as it rises precipitously above all the buildings, until it
ends in the jagged piece of rock which crowns the summit. After the
fortress was removed it became the burial place of Jews, Protestants,
infidels and all who were forbidden burial in consecrated ground. When
these bones were finally removed they were dumped in a corner of one of
the Catholic cemeteries, and the church authorities erected a monument
with the inscription “exiles from both heaven and earth.” This freak
of nature, which geologists say was dropped by some wandering iceberg,
has been made into a delightful place, partly by private subscription
and partly at public expense. The summit is reached by several winding
roads and walks that are enclosed by walls in a most picturesque manner.
In the crevices of the rocks flowers, bushes and curious plants are
growing. Eucalyptus trees rise up, and gigantic ferns reach out so
that the hill seems a veritable garden in the air. At intervals are
kiosks for music or refreshments, and half way up is a theatre where
vaudeville entertainments are occasionally given for the entertainment
of the people. Terraces, fountains, winding walks and steps cut out of
the rock add to the beauties and comforts of Santa Lucia. On the summit
is a little chapel where the remains of Mr. Benjamine Vicuña Mackenna,
who planned this scheme and gave large sums towards its completion, lies
buried. On the way up one passes one wonderful rock formation after
another, delightful grottoes and cozy nooks, until at last all Santiago
is spread out before you like a panorama.
[Illustration: ALAMEDA DE LAS DELICIAS, SANTIAGO.]
Below is a vast expanse of flat roofs, out of which here and there rise
trees and a wealth of green. These are in the patios, or inside courts,
of the larger houses. Here and there rise the towers of the numerous
churches with which Santiago is provided. The many streets cross each
other in checkerboard fashion, thus dividing the city into square blocks.
At one side can be distinguished the Alameda de las Delicias, with its
double rows of great poplar trees, which furnish an arbour of dense
shade from one end of the city to the other, a distance of three miles,
and which leads out to the parks known as Quinta Normal and Cousiño.
This avenue, which was formerly the principal road leading into the
city, has been laid out as a broad highway more than three hundred feet
in width, with a promenade in the centre and a wide driveway on either
side. Fronting this Alameda are many very fine residences—the finest in
the city. Some of the houses are very large, containing fifty rooms or
more, and the furnishings are elaborate. The ceilings are very high,
which gives ample opportunity for decorative effect. One striking feature
is the absence of chimneys, for the Chileans are averse to artificial
heat. In the winter time it is nothing unusual for a guest to be received
by the host and his family wearing furs and heavy wraps. A few of the
newer houses have installed heating plants. With these homes the best
and most attractive part is usually hidden from the street. There are
several stands along the Alameda at which military bands discourse music
frequently. The promenade is broken by many statues of Chile’s heroes,
and others commemorating events important in Chilean history; and at
every few feet throughout its length are stone seats on which the people
rest.
One of the finest private residences in South America is that belonging
to the Cousiño family, which was erected by the late Señora Isadora
Cousiño. It was designed by a famous French architect and will compare
favourably with those of New York. It is built of brick, stuccoed in the
usual manner to resemble stone, and is imposing. Its interior decorations
are elaborate, but rather the style one would expect in a public building
than in a private home. They are all French scenes, as the work was done
by French artists. It is still one of the show places, although the
señora has been dead for many years, and her descendants have more modest
taste. She was a remarkable woman, and her chief concern seemed to be to
expend her enormous income. Her extravagance was frequently the gossip
of Europe as well as her native land. Herself the richest woman in Chile
before marriage, she married the richest man, and all his wealth was
willed to her at his death. She had millions of dollars in herds, mines,
railroads, steamships, real estate, etc. Another magnificent château at
Lota was built by her, and the _estancia_ of Macul, an hour’s ride from
Santiago, was almost a principality in itself. The land stretched from
the environs of the city to the distant Cordilleras with their mantle of
snow.
[Illustration: DANCING LA CUECA, THE NATIONAL DANCE.]
Señora Cousiño did one good thing for Santiago; she presented to the city
beautiful Cousiño Park. It is a large park of several hundred acres,
which is the popular playground of the masses. It has cheap cafés,
merry-go-rounds and other amusements, and is the nearest approach to a
Coney Island that the capital affords. There are a number of stands for
dancing where, on a Sunday especially, one may see the Chilean national
dance, La Cueca, which is a sort of refined can-can. The couples pair
off with handkerchiefs in their hands, and dance face to face, while the
musicians sit on benches near-by and thrum guitars, pick mandolins, or
play other instruments. Each dancer waves his handkerchief in the air
with graceful gestures, and sways around in attitudes which are supposed
to show grace and suppleness. A race track has also been constructed in
the centre of the park, called the “Club Hippico,” where races are held
almost every Sunday afternoon and frequently on holidays. This is the
most popular amusement in Chile. Another park, the Quinta Normal, has
been provided for the people, and in it is quite an extensive zoological
garden. Among the many “strange” and “fierce” animals kept in cages are
several species of dogs and cats, which seem very much out of place in
such surroundings. A very interesting museum also occupies a pretty site
near the entrance. A botanical garden and experiment station is also
maintained here, and an exposition building in which agricultural fairs
are held each year.
There are a number of very fine public buildings in Santiago. Perhaps the
finest is the Palace of Congress, which is a large building of modern
classical construction covering an entire square—not differing much from
many public buildings that one will find in the United States. I attended
a session of the Senate and the proceedings seemed very strange. The
members talked at random without even addressing the chair or rising
from their seats. In fact the proceedings were the most informal of any
legislative body I ever attended. Not infrequently, however, the sessions
are very stormy, and the reputation of the Spaniard for excitability is
well maintained. The National Library is almost opposite this building,
but is not an imposing building, although it contains an interesting
and valuable collection of books. La Moneda is the name given to the
residence of the President, and it also contains the offices of many of
the government departments. It is a large three-story building with quite
imposing surroundings. The President is generally attended by a military
guard during his drives around the city. Other buildings are the Palace
of Justice, in which the highest courts sit, the Army Building, and the
Intendency, or City Hall.
At one place in Santiago a beautiful marble monument has been erected
on the site of a church that was burned in 1863. Church festivals have
always played an important part in the social life of the capital. At
the time of the Christmas festivities of that year a gorgeous _fête_ was
in progress in the Jesuits’ church, which was known as the Feast of the
Virgins. The interior was festooned and decorated everywhere with light
gauze, wreaths of paper flowers and other inflammable material. Candles
had been attached to these flimsy decorations. The church was crowded
with women while high mass was being celebrated by the bishop. Suddenly
the hangings caught fire, the burning candles fell among the crowd of
worshippers and everyone rushed for the doors. As usual, the doors opened
inward, and the crowds, jammed against them, made it impossible for
them to be opened. It is claimed that almost three thousand women and
girls lost their lives in this terrible holocaust. After the fire the
bodies were found packed in a solid mass against the doors. The church
was afterwards razed to the ground by order of the government, and this
monument erected on the site. Scarcely a leading family in Santiago
escaped bereavement, and the Feast of the Virgins has ever since been
celebrated with mourning in Chile.
There are many worthy charitable institutions in Santiago. Some of
these are municipal institutions and others are church charities. Among
these are numerous hospitals for the care of the sick and unfortunate.
There is one very large orphan asylum, which cares for many hundreds
of unfortunate children—many of them of unknown parentage. The method
of reception of these unfortunate, and generally unwelcome, infants is
unique. In the rear wall is an opening with a wooden box in it which
swings in and out. The mother wishing to get rid of her baby places the
little mite in the box and swings it in. The automatic ringing of a bell
notifies the nuns inside and the baby is taken charge of by them. No
effort is ever made to find the mother, and she is thus enabled to rid
herself of her charge. Some moralists would criticize this practice, but
it is certainly better than infanticide, which is said to be an almost
unknown crime in Chile, where the ratio of illegitimate births is very
large.
The Opera House is a municipal institution and is a very fine building.
During the season opera is given here several nights each week, and
generally by Italian companies. Not only is the building furnished free,
but a good subsidy is given the management each year in order to bring
good talent here. The seats and boxes are sold by subscription for the
season as a guaranty fund and are paid for in advance, although many sell
their seats occasionally if there is a demand for them. The audiences are
very interesting, for the people dress exceedingly well and are lavish
in their wearing of jewels. There is a large foyer in which the people
promenade between acts and there are refreshment rooms where all kinds
of refreshments are served. A special box is reserved for the President
of the republic and the _intendente_ of the city. There is also a
mourning box protected by screens, where those in mourning may watch the
performance without being themselves seen.
The city of Santiago is a municipality within the province of the same
name. A little more democracy has been infused into the government than
used to prevail. The city is divided into ten sections or wards. Each of
these wards, called _circumscripciones_, elects three councillors, all
the members together constituting the municipal legislative body. They
must be citizens of at least five years’ residence in the city, must not
have any interest in national or municipal contracts, and must not hold
any other public office or commission. The three members from each ward
have certain local powers and duties principally in connection with the
elections. From its members the council elect three alcaldes, or mayors,
fixing the order of precedence among the three, also a secretary and
treasurer. The powers and jurisdiction of this body extends to the entire
government, subject only to the constitution and the organic act under
which the municipality is organized. The principal revenues are derived
from a personal tax levied for school purposes, a tax on liquors and
tobacco, a license for industries and professions, revenues derived from
city property and an annual grant from the national Congress.
[Illustration: A GROUP OF NEWSBOYS, SANTIAGO.]
It is in the market-places that one can best study the common people.
There are two markets in Santiago, both of them on the bank of the
Mapocho. At the newer one one will be sure to find some newsboys plying
their trade. “_La Union_” and “_El Mercurio_” are the cries of these busy
little newsboys, as they flit in and out among the marketers of Santiago.
They are barefooted ragamuffins, most of them, but they industriously
ply their trade. Their complexions are of different shades, for some of
the boys have Indian blood in their veins, which gives them a deeper
colouring. I posed two small boys for a picture, but before I could take
it a half dozen had crowded into it, making an interesting group. The
boys of South America, just like their counterparts in the United States,
want to take a part in everything that comes within their range of vision.
It would be difficult to find a more interesting place in Santiago
than the old market, which will soon be abandoned. Around it will be
seen the huge, two-wheeled market carts in which the produce has been
brought. Many of these marketers have been on the road for two or three
days, bringing in the products of their fertile fields for the people in
the city. The meek-eyed oxen stand or recline while chewing their cud,
no doubt enjoying to the full the brief respite from their work. The
produce displayed in the market is good. The fruits of Chile are simply
delicious in flavour, and they are large in size. The pears and peaches
of California are not better than those grown here below the equator, and
yet they have been grown with very little care in their cultivation.
One must bargain with or pay an exorbitant price to these market men and
women. If it is only a melon, or a dozen juicy pears, twice as much will
be asked as is expected. If you shake your head when a price is given,
the man or woman in charge of the stall will immediately ask, “What will
you give?” On the outside of the market building dozens of women will
be seen seated on the ground with a little pile of tomatoes, radishes,
potatoes or melons heaped up in front of them. The housewife or servant
will pass around among them making purchases and gradually filling up the
basket which she carries, or hires some boy to bear for her.
[Illustration: A MARKET SCENE, SANTIAGO.]
The poorer Chileans are a hard working people—the most industrious of
the South Americans. A walk through the sections of the city occupied by
them shows much grinding poverty. Across the Mapocho penury stretches on
all sides. The dwellings are low, with floors oftentimes below the street
level, and the interiors show unsanitary conditions and an entire lack of
the comforts of life, let alone the decencies. The improvement of such
surroundings should command immediate attention from the authorities.
The wages paid this class are not very large, so that they are compelled
to live in comparative poverty. They drink a great deal on Sundays and
holidays. Monday is a bad day to get anything done, for the peons must
have a few hours to recover from the previous day’s celebration. It
is a sort of a “_dias non_,” a day that is not. Holidays are greatly
desired, and it takes five of them to properly celebrate the “diaz y
ocho de Setiembre,” the 18th of September, the anniversary of Chilean
independence. _Fiestas_ are held in every park and plaza, and all the
banks and business houses close. Everybody, young and old, engages in the
festivities with zeal and enthusiasm. The poor people save up their money
for weeks and months in order to celebrate this occasion in the only
way that seems appropriate to them—that is, by carousing. Saturday is
beggars’ day, and every mendicant in the city is out with open palm. On
other days only the licensed beggars appear. Some beggars even come out
on horseback, for horses are remarkably cheap in Chile.
Another good view may be had of the poorer classes on the occasion of a
church celebration, such as the festival of Corpus Christi. Both church
and state take a part in this _fiesta_. The troops appear in their finest
uniforms. The infantry are gorgeous in their blue and yellow, with
helmets surmounted with white plumes. The cavalry wear blue plumes and
the bands are adorned with red plumes. The religious procession consists
of the Procession of the Cross, which is composed of various societies,
the Dominicans, Franciscans, Augustinians and other orders. The parochial
clergy follow with the Archbishop in the lead. During the procession
hundreds of women and children, and some men, kneel in the streets. Some
men doff their hats, while others look on in seemingly idle curiosity
without any special attitude of reverence.
The wealthier people take life easy. The real life is only for this
class. After breakfast, which is served from eleven to twelve o’clock,
comes the siesta. This meal is frequently an elaborate and formal
function if guests are present, and is more like a dinner. On the door
of many business houses one will see the sign “_cerrado de las 12 a 1½
horas_,” which means that they are closed between these hours. Business
calls are usually made between two and four. At six o’clock every person
who owns or can hire a carriage goes out to Cousiño Park. Everyone
dresses in his best, the men wearing silk hats and frock suits, and
the women having on fashionable gowns and large hats. In the park the
carriages parade up and down the principal drives and the occupants
nod to their acquaintances. It is quite the correct thing for men
to make audible remarks about the personal appearance of ladies, if
they are complimentary. After about half an hour of this parade they
adjourn as by mutual consent to the Alameda, which is twice as wide as
Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, and the parade continues up one side
of the imposing avenue and down the other for another half hour. There
are all kinds of vehicles—drays, victorias, landaus, four-in-hands and
automobiles. The driving is superintended by mounted policemen, and
the scene is quite imposing, though rather stilted in the eyes of an
American. The parade then breaks up and all drive home to partake of the
dinner, which is the principal meal of the day. The politeness of the
Chileno is excessive. He will always give the lady the inner side of the
street, and would cheerfully step off the sidewalk in order to render
this courtesy. The man always extends the first greeting also to a lady
of his acquaintance.
Club life is greatly enjoyed in Santiago, for the resident of that city
is very much of a night-hawk. The Club de la Union is the best club in
the country. It was my privilege to be entertained there a number of
times. The real life does not begin until rather late, and there is
always a representative crowd of men to be found there after ten o’clock,
and gambling is sure to be indulged in in some form. While the men are
at the club the women stay at home, or attend the theatre.
When Italian opera is not being given, one-act comedies are the favourite
plays. Going to the theatre, however, usually means looking in for a
_zarzuela_ or two during the evening. Three or four of these one-act
pieces, or _zarzuelas_, are usually put on in an evening, and the house
is cleared after each performance. Those who dine late usually drop in
for the second turn, which begins about half-past nine; or one can catch
the last one, which does not begin until about eleven o’clock. Some
of these _zarzuelas_ are one-act musical plays, abridged from popular
operas, but most of them are melodrama or grotesque comedy. The audiences
are very alert and are quick to respond to appeals from the stage.
“Oh, _Mamacita_, let us go around the plaza once more, for the band
has not yet quit playing,” plead the little girls and young ladies of
Santiago. On Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday evenings a band plays in the
Plaza de Armas, which is the centre of life and business in the Chilean
capital. Then occurs the _paseo_, or promenade, so common in Spanish
towns. It usually begins before the light has yet faded from the highest
peaks of the Andes, and while the newsboys are still calling out “_Las
Ultimas Noticias_.” The girls and young ladies, the boys and young men,
all come here on these evenings. The former are always accompanied by
their mothers, as the social customs are very strict and the girls do not
enjoy as much freedom as their cousins have in North America. The mothers
sit on the benches, while the younger women and girls walk around the
plaza in pairs and groups. The young men, among whom are many officers
in German uniforms and with clanking swords, walk around in the opposite
direction, and pass audible comments on the girls who pass. Their remarks
are irritating to an Anglo-Saxon who understands the Castilian lisp, but
the girls only laugh or smile, for they are quite accustomed to it. The
same attentions bestowed on young ladies on the average American street
would result in an interference by a man in blue uniform, and possibly a
gentle use of the “big stick.” The young men exchange a few words with
those with whom they are acquainted, but not for long, for mamma keeps
her vigilant eyes on them. The girls, even little tots, are finished
coquettes, and they aim to attract attention. This is one of the few
opportunities afforded to the young people to see each other. If a young
man observes a girl by whom he is attracted he will begin inquiries as to
who she is, and perhaps even his folks will aid him in his effort to make
the acquaintance of his inamorata.
[Illustration: THE OLDEST BUILDING IN SANTIAGO.]
Within almost a stone’s throw of the Plaza is all of Chile—those who
rule and those who own—the principal club, theatres, public buildings
and residences of diplomats. The chief business streets converge at this
plaza, and the leading business houses are near it. The great cathedral
and archbishop’s palace occupy one entire side, the post office and a
government building another side, and the portales, or corridors, under
which are many booths and stores, fill up the remaining two sides. The
stores around the plaza are small and like those of old Spain. This
is the oldest business section in Santiago and was in existence two
centuries before our own national capital. Some of the stores are like
holes in the wall, with goods stacked up in the doorway and even on the
street outside. They are far different from the larger and more modern
establishments near the corner of Ahumada and Huerfanos, a block away.
There one will find splendid stores where goods from all parts of the
world can be purchased. A fine large department store has recently been
opened up in the city, which is a great improvement over any of the old
establishments. The prices in the windows look very high, but an article
marked five dollars means only about one-fifth that amount in United
States currency.
During the day many shoppers may be seen. The women trip along two by two
or roll up in their broughams, victorias or automobiles. In the morning
the women wear black gowns and the _mantas_, which are shawls folded into
a sort of bonnet which gives a very demure setting to the black-eyed,
oval, and, oftentimes, beautiful faces underneath. This is the dress worn
to the morning mass, and is not changed until after the breakfast hour.
One may sometimes see the roguish eyes of the wearer peering at him from
beneath this _manta_, even while the owner is fingering her beads and
uttering her prayers in the cathedral. Some one has described the _manta_
as “that graceful euphemism which shields the poor and disarms the vain,
hides bad taste and clumsy waists, and wrapped about the head and nipped
in in some marvellous fashion at the nape of the neck, envelops all
femininity in gracefulness and mystery.”
One’s visit is not complete without seeing a sunset from Santa Lucia.
Santiago is situated in a valley, surrounded by lofty mountains on every
side. At its back are the Cordilleras of the Andes, with their lofty
peaks which lift their eternal snows far up into the blue ethereal canopy
overhead. As the sun creeps slowly into the western sky it illumes the
red tile roof of the city and the many spires. Then its rays fall full
upon the snow-clad peaks, and long after the fiery ball has dropped
behind the lower range of mountains, which separate Santiago from the
sea, its rays continue to glisten upon the loftier peaks that form the
eastern horizon. Then, as darkness slowly falls over the landscape, the
electric lights of the city flash forth beneath you like visions in fairy
land. The whole scene, with its variations and transformations, is one
that will long linger in memory.