_(To the Editor of the Mirror.)_
After all that has been written and said on South America, by many
recent travellers, it may probably be thought that the following remarks
are rather out of time; but as a single fact may sometimes serve to show
the state of a country more forcibly than volumes, I am induced to
relate an anecdote which will throw a little light on the present
situation of one portion of the natives of Peru.
The Andes take their rise literally at the "end of the World;" for Cape
Horn certainly deserves that epithet, and the Straights of Magellan,
which divide Terra del Fuego from the continent are comparatively no
more than a mountain stream in a hilly country, so that that island may
without any impropriety be deemed a part of it. The Andes are not one
continuous chain of mountains; but an immensity of piles raised one on
another, at different elevations of which are extensive plains, termed
"Pampas," some of which appear as boundless as the horizon, and totally
divested of herbage. On one of these plains, called the Pampa of Diesmo,
in the province of Junin, I was detained some days at the only hut to be
seen for leagues. One of the _arreóros_, or muleteers, with me, a native
of Madrid, remarked on the solitude of the spot, adding, with a sigh,
"This was a different place when first I visited it." Within about half
a mile from where we were then conversing was an astonishing freak of
Nature. In the midst of the plain were about one hundred naked rocks
rising abruptly from the surface, in detached groups, some of which were
as high as St. Paul's, and many appeared like the spires of a cathedral.
Pointing to these eminences, the muleteer went on to say, "for five
months these rocks were my refuge from white men, and from them have I
seen an army of twenty-five thousand men traverse this plain again and
again; their only support for nearly fourteen months being drawn from
the spot." On asking an explanation, he bid me look round and say if I
thought I could count the number of sheep on the Pampa. I readily
answered I did not think there were fifty. "What will you say, sir,"
said he, "when I tell you that sixteen years since, there were, _on this
plain alone, eight hundred thousand sheep!_ besides oxen; at that time
there was scarcely an Indian that did not possess at least two thousand,
and this was only a part of the wealth of Peru. The desolation that now
exists may justly be laid to the account of a revolution, which has only
been the means of creating a spirit of animosity amongst those who
before were cordially united; you yourself must be aware that if it were
known I was a Godo, (Old Spaniard), my life would not be worth an hour's
purchase; another thing you have yourself experienced, is the total
absence of hospitality in Peru. This is also an effect of the
revolution; for at the time I alluded to, a stranger in this country
need not expend a maravedi in travelling; but those days, I fear, will
never return."
This conversation occurred in the summer of 1827, and there are a few
readers of the MIRROR who were then in Peru, who will readily recognise
the writer.