Passports—Means of defence—The road—Pacayar—Chaclacayo—Narrow
pass—Yanacoto—Bridge—Cocachacra—Tribute money—Dividing line
between the coast and the Sierra—Moyoc—Varieties of the
potato—Matucana—San Mateo—Mines of Párac—Narrow valley—Summit
of the Cordillera—Reflections.
Before leaving Lima I had had several interviews with the President,
General Castilla, who exhibited much interest in my mission; and the
Hon. J. R. Clay, U. S. chargé d'affaires, had presented me to General
Torrico, who at that time was sole Minister of Peru, under the newly
elected President, General Echenique, who yet had not had time to
appoint his Cabinet. General Torrico caused to be issued to me the
following passport and letter:
[Translation.]
JUAN CRISOSTOMO TORRICO,
Minister of War and Marine, and charged with the conduct of
Foreign Relations.
In that Wm. Lewis Herndon, lieutenant of the navy of the
United States, and Lardner Gibbon, passed midshipman of the
same, commissioned by their government to make a scientific
expedition in the Territory of Peru, direct themselves towards
the interior of the republic for the discharge of their
commission, accompanied by Henry Richards, Manuel Ijurra,
Mauricio N., attached to said commission, and by two servants:
Therefore, I direct that the authorities of the districts they
may pass through shall place no obstacle in the way of the
above-mentioned gentlemen and servants; but, rather, shall
afford them all the assistance and facilities that may be
necessary for the fulfilment of their object, preserving to
them the considerations which are their due—(_guardandole las
consideraciones que les son debidas_.)
Given in Lima, the 13th of May, 1851.
J. C'MO. TORRICO.
* * * * *
[Translation.]
TO THE PREFECT OF THE DEPARTMENT OF AMAZONAS.
SIR: Wm. Lewis Herndon, lieutenant of the navy of the
United States, and Lardner Gibbon, passed midshipman of
the same, commissioned by the government of that nation to
make a scientific expedition in the eastern parts of Peru,
accompanied by Henry Richards, Mauricio N., and Manuel
Ijurra, as adjuncts to the expedition, direct themselves
towards the department under your command in the discharge
of their commission. As the expedition deserves, on account
of its important object, the particular protection of the
government, his Excellency the President commands me to advise
you to afford them whatever resources and facilities they may
need for the better discharge of their commission, taking
care, likewise, that there shall be preserved to them the
considerations that are their due.
The which I communicate to you for its punctual fulfilment.
God preserve you.
J. C'MO. TORRICO.
This passport was made out at a time when I expected to procure two
servants. Mauricio, the Chamicuros Indian, was the only servant who
accompanied us.
We were accompanied for a mile or two on the road by our kind friends
and countrymen, Messrs. Prevost, Foster, and McCall, who drew up at
the Cemetery to bid us good-bye; Mr. Prevost advising us to halt at the
first place we could find pasturage for the mules. The road we were to
travel had reputation for robbers, and Mr. McCall desired to know how
we were to defend ourselves in case of attack, as we carried our guns
in leather cases, strapped to the crupper, and entirely out of reach
for a sudden emergency. Gibbon replied by showing his six-barrelled
_Colt_, and observed that Ijurra, Richards, and myself had each a
pair of pistols at hand. As for Mauricio, he kept his pistols in his
saddle-bags; and I was satisfied, from some attempts that I had made
to teach Luis to shoot, (though he was very ambitious and desirous to
learn,) that it was dangerous to trust him with a pair, as he might
as readily fire into his friends as his enemies. With the comfortable
observation from Mr. McCall that he never expected to see us again, we
shook hands and parted.
Our course lay about E. N. E. over an apparently level and very stony
road. To the right were the green cane and alfalfa[4] fields, about
_Miraflores_ and _Chorillos_; and on the left and behind, the vegetation
afforded by the valley of the Rimac; but ahead all was barren, grim,
and forbidding.
Just before sunset we stopped at the hacienda (estate, or farm, or
settlement) of Santa Clara, and applied for pasturage. We were told
by an old negro woman sitting on the ground at the door of the house,
that there was none; which was confirmed by two men who just then rode
up, and who expressed their regret at not being able to accommodate us.
It was remarkable to see such poverty and squalid wretchedness at nine
miles from the great city of Lima; it was like passing in a moment from
the most luxurious civilization into savage barbarity—from the garden
to the desert. We rode on, about three miles further, to the hacienda
of _Pacayar_, where we arrived at half past six o'clock, p. m.
Before the mules could be unloaded it became very dark; so that the
arriero and Mauricio had considerable trouble in driving them to the
pasturage. Indeed some of them got away; I could hear them galloping
furiously up and down the road, and I went to bed on a table in the only
room in the house, with the comfortable reflection that I had balked
at starting, and should have to return or send back to Lima to buy more
mules.
Tormented with these reflections, and oppressed with the excitement and
fatigue of the day, I could not sleep; but tossed "in restless ecstacy"
for many a long hour, until just before daylight, when, as I was
dropping to sleep, a couple of game cocks, tied by the leg in the room,
commenced "their salutation to the morn," and screamed out their clarion
notes within a yard of my ear. This was too much for me. I rushed out—to
meet a heavenly morning, and old Luis, with the intelligence that the
mules were "all right." I took off my upper clothes, and plunged head,
neck, and shoulders, into the water of a little mountain stream that
rushed clear and cold as ice by the roadside in front of the house. Thus
refreshed and invigorated, the appearance of affairs took a new aspect,
and light-heartedness and hope came back as strong and fresh as in the
days of boyhood.
The mayordomo, or steward of the estate, was a _Chino_, (descendant
of Indian and negro,) and seemed an amiable and intelligent fellow, He
gave us a supper of a thin soup (caldo) and chupe;[5] and whilst we were
eating it, he was engaged in teaching the children of a neighbor the
multiplication table and the catechism.
From the appearance of things, I judge this estate paid little enough
to its owner; for I saw small signs of cultivation about it, though I
should think that the valley of the Rimac, which is a full mile in width
in front of the house, would produce good and (considering the short
distance to Lima) valuable crops of grass and vegetables. The land is
ploughed with a rude, heavy, wooden plough of one handle, which is shod
with iron. It is generally worked by a yoke of oxen.
The house was built of _adobe_, or sun-dried bricks, and roofed with
tiles. It had but one room, which was the general receptacle for all
comers. A mud projection, of two feet high and three wide, stood out
from the walls of the room all round, and served as a standing bed
place for numbers. Others laid their blankets and ponchos and stretched
themselves upon the floor; so that, with whites, Indians, negroes,
trunks, packages, horse furniture, game cocks, and Guinea pigs, we had
quite a caravansera appearance. The supper and bed that the steward
had given us were gratuitous; he would accept no remuneration; and we
got our breakfast of chupe and eggs at a _tambo_ or roadside inn nearly
opposite.
Though we commenced loading up soon after daylight, we did not get off
until half-past nine. Such delays were invariable; and this was owing
to the want of a peon and another servant.
The height of Pacayar above the level of the sea is one thousand three
hundred and forty-six feet.
_May 22._—Roads still good; valley gradually narrowing, and hills
becoming higher, and more barren and rocky. We passed several squads of
asses and _llamas_ carrying potatoes and eggs, some of them as far as
from Jauja, to Lima. Six miles from Pacayar is the village (_pueblo_)
of Chaclacayo, consisting of four or five houses, constructed of cane
and mud. A mile further is the _Juzgado_ of Sta. Ines, quite a large,
good-looking house, with a small chapel near it. This was the residence,
in the Spanish times, of a justice of the peace, who administered law
and judgment to his neighbors; hence called Juzgado. Soon after leaving
this the stream approached the hills so close that there was no longer
room between them for the road; and this had to be cut out of the side
of the hill. It was very narrow, and seemed in some places to overhang
the stream fifty feet below it. Just as we were turning an angle of
the road we met a man driving two horses before him, which immediately
mingled in with our burden mules, and endangered their going over the
precipice. Our arriero shouted to the man, and, spurring his horse
through the mules, commenced driving back the horses of the other, who
flourished his whip, and insisted upon passing. I expected to see a
fight, and mischief happen, which would probably have fallen upon us,
as the other had nothing to lose, when Ijurra called out to him, and
represented that our cargoes were very valuable, and that if one were
lost he should be held responsible; whereupon he desisted, drove his
horses back, and suffered us to pass. This caused us to be more careful
in our march; and I sent Gibbon, with Richards, ahead, to warn persons,
or give us warning, in time to prevent a collision. The burden mules
were driven by the arriero and the servant, in the middle; while Ijurra
and I brought up the rear.
At 2 p. m. we stopped at the Tambo of Yanacoto. I determined to stay
here a day or two to get things shaken into their places, and obtain
a new error and rate for the chronometer, which had stopped the day
before, a few hours out of Lima, though we had not discovered it
till this morning. I cared, however, very little for this, as I was
satisfied that it would either stop again or so vary in its rate as
to be worthless. No chronometer will stand the jar of mule travel over
these roads, especially if carried in the pocket, where the momentum of
the jar is parallel to the movement of the balance-wheel of the watch.
Were I to carry a chronometer on such a journey again, I would have it
placed in its box on a cushion on the saddle-bow; and when I travelled
in a canoe, where the motion is the other way, I would hang it up. We
pitched the tent in the valley before the road, and proceeded to make
ourselves as comfortable as possible; got an observation for time, and
found the latitude of Yanacoto, by Mer. alt. of γ Crucis, to be 11° 51´
20´´.
_May 23._—Bathing before breakfast is, on this part of the route,
both healthful and pleasant. There seemed to be no cultivation in this
valley, which here is about half a mile wide. It is covered with bushes,
except close to the water's edge, where grow reeds and flags. The bushes
are dwarf willow, and a kind of locust called _Sangre de Christo_,
which bears a broad bean, containing four or five seeds, and a pretty
red flower, something like our crape myrtle. There is also a bush, of
some ten or twelve feet in height, called _Molle_. This is the most
common shrub of the country, and has a wider climatic range than any
other of this slope of the Andes. It has long, delicate leaves, like the
acacia, and produces an immense quantity of small red berries in large
bunches. The leaves, when crushed, have a strong aromatic smell; and
many persons believe that it is certain death to sleep under its shade.
Dr. Smith, in his book, called "Peru as it is," says that "this tree is
much prized for fuel. The sugar refiners of the interior use the ashes
from it in preference to those from any other wood, on account of their
higher alkaline properties, and consequent efficiency in purifying the
cane-juice when being boiled down to a proper consistence to be cast
into moulds. The Inca tribe, as we learn from Garcilasso de la Vega,
made a highly valuable and medicinal beer, which some of the Indians
of the interior still occasionally prepare, from the clusters of small
grained fruit that hang gracefully and abundantly from this pretty
tree."
We saw several cases of _tertiana_, or chills and fever, at Yanacoto.
The people seem to have no remedy, except drinking spirits just before
the chill comes on, and using as a drink, during the fever, the juice of
the bitter orange, with sugar and water. When the case is bad, those who
can afford it—such as the mayordomos and _tamberos_ (the keepers of the
road-side inns, called tambos)—send to Lima and get medical advice and
physic. Our tambero killed a mutton for us, and (leaving out the lard,
which is always abominable) made a good chupe. The roast was a failure;
but we got poultry and eggs, and had a very good time.
The elevation of Yanacoto is two thousand three hundred and thirty-seven
feet, a little more than one thousand feet above Pacayar. The distance
between them is about ten miles; showing a rise to the mile of about one
hundred feet, which is very little greater than that between Callao and
Lima.
_May 24._—Had observation for time; breakfasted, and started at ten.
Valley still narrowing; the hills becoming mountains, mostly of granite;
rock piled upon rock for hundreds of feet, and in every variety of
shape; no vegetation, except where the hardy cactus finds aliment in
the crevices of the rock.
About four and a half miles above Yanacoto we passed the hacienda of
Lachosita, and soon after the little village of San Pedro Mama, where
the first bridge is thrown over the Rimac. Heavy, rough stone-work is
built on each side of the river, into which are inserted massive pieces
of timber, standing out a few feet from the face of the masonry, and
hewn flat on top. On their ends are laid trunks of trees, crossing the
river, and securely lashed. Athwart these are laid sticks of wood, of
some two or three inches diameter, lashed down, and covered over with
bundles of reeds, mud, and stones.
After San Pedro, at about three miles of distance, comes the hacienda
of Santa Ana, belonging to Señor Ximenes, an old gentleman of Lima, who
had made a large fortune by mining. Just before reaching there we met a
drove of one hundred and fifty mules belonging to him, in fine condition
and well appointed, going to Lima, laden with small sticks of the willow
and _molle_ for fuel.
There is very little cultivation till near Cocachacra, where we saw
well-tilled fields, green with alfalfa and Indian corn. We arrived at
this place at half-past five, and pitched the tent in a meadow near the
river, and without the town, for the purpose of avoiding company and
disagreeable curiosity.
Although we had seen fields of lucern before entering the village, we
could get none for our mules after we got there; and to every inquiry
for hay, fodder, or grain, the constant reply was "_No hay_," (there
is none.) Gibbon, however, persevered until some one told him, in an
undertone, as if imparting a great secret, where a little corn was to
be purchased, and he got a peck or two shelled. We were continually
annoyed and put to inconvenience by the refusal of the people to sell
to us. I think it arose from one of two causes, or probably both—either
that money was of less value to them than the things we wanted, or they
feared to have it known that they had possessions, lest the hand of
authority should be laid upon them, and they be compelled to give up
their property without payment.
Cocachacra is a village of about one hundred inhabitants, and at
present the residence of the sub-prefect or governor of the province,
which is that of Huarochiri. This province, according to the "Guia de
Forasteros," (a sort of official almanac published yearly at Lima,) is
conterminous with that of Lima, and commences at eighteen miles from the
city. It has ninety miles of length from N. W. to S. E., and seventy-two
of breadth. There are fourteen thousand two hundred and fifty-eight
native inhabitants; and its fiscal income is fourteen thousand two
hundred and fifty-eight dollars and two reals; its municipal, one
thousand one hundred and eighty-seven dollars. The inhabitants are
generally engaged in mining, cultivating potatoes, and raising cattle,
or as muleteers. The houses, like all those of the Sierra, are built
either of stone or adobe, and thatched with wheat or barley straw.
We called on the sub-prefect and exhibited our Peruvian passports,
asking, at the same time, that he would give us some assistance in
obtaining food for our beasts. This he seemed lukewarm about, and I did
not press him, for I had made up my mind that as far as it was possible
I would avoid appealing to authority for the purpose of obtaining
supplies, and go without what I could not buy or beg. He had in the
house the semi-yearly contribution of his province towards the support
of the government, which he was to send to Lima next day. A gentleman
suggested that he might be robbed that night; but he said that his guns
were loaded, (pointing to some muskets standing around the room,) and
that he might count upon assistance from our party, which seemed well
armed.
Very little help he would have had from us. He had shown no disposition
to oblige us, and moreover I had no notion of interfering in other
people's quarrels, or preventing the people from taking back their
money if they wanted it. This contribution is a capitation tax of seven
dollars a year, collected half-yearly from the Indian population between
the ages of sixteen and sixty. It is collected by the governors of the
districts into which a province is divided, who receive two per centum
on their collections, and pay over to the sub-prefect, who receives
four per cent. on the whole amount collected from the districts of his
province. The prefects of the departments, which are made up of a number
of provinces, receive a regular salary, according to the size and wealth
of their departments, varying from three to five thousand dollars. We
slept comfortably in the tent. Nights getting cool.
_May 25._—Started at 10 a. m. Valley getting so narrow as not to allow
room for the road, which is in many places cut from the rock on the side
of the hill, very narrow, rough and precipitous, rising and falling
as it crosses the spurs of the hills. The general character of the
rock is a feldspar porphyry, succeeded, as the road ascends, by a very
coarse-grained trachyte porphyry, reaching as far as Surco. Vegetation,
willow, molle, and many varieties of the cactus. We passed on the road
the ruins of an ancient Indian town; the houses had been small, and
built of stone on terraces cut from the mountain side.
At two we passed through the village of Surco, the largest we have seen
on the road. It appears capable of holding five or six hundred people,
but seemed deserted—nearly every house closed, and many falling into
decay. We were told that the inhabitants were away over the hills,
looking after their plantations and flocks, and that they returned at
night. But if this is so, judging from the height of the mountains on
each side of the village, I should say that half their time is lost in
going and returning from their work.
Here we leave the district called the Coast, and enter upon that called
the Sierra. There is tertiana below, but none above this. Dr. Smith,
speaking of the climate of this district, says, "that it is neither
winter nor summer, but one perpetual spring. It is out of the sphere
of frosts, and exempted from the raw fogs and sultry heats of the
coast. The atmospherical currents of mountain and coast meet here and
neutralize each other; the extremes of both disappear; and the result is
a delicious climate for the convalescent, whose tender organs require
a gentle, uniform temperature, alike removed from the extremes of heat
and cold, dryness and moisture. With this important fact the delicate
inhabitants of Lima are perfectly acquainted; and they are accustomed to
resort to the 'Cabezadas,' or headlands of valleys, where these verge
on the joint air of mountain and coast, as, for example, Matucana, the
favorite resting-place of phthisical and hæmoptic individuals, who find
themselves obliged to retire from the capital in order to recover health
by visiting those celebrated sites of convalescence, Tarma and Juaxa."
We certainly had delicious weather, but did not stay long enough, of
course, to pronounce authoritatively upon its general climate.
At 5 p. m., we arrived at the Chacra of Moyoc, belonging to Ximenes.
Here we pitched for the night, having travelled about fifteen miles,
which is our usual day's journey, between ten and five. This is a most
beautiful little dell, entirely and closely surrounded by mountains.
The valley has widened out so as to give room for some narrow patches of
corn and alfalfa. The Rimac, here a "babbling brook," rushes musically
between its willow-fringed banks; and the lingering of the sunlight upon
the snowy summits of the now not distant Cordillera, long after night
had settled upon the valley, gave an effect to the scenery that was at
once magical and enchanting.
The nights in the Cordillera at this season are very beautiful. The
traveller feels that he is lifted above the impurities of the lower
strata of the atmosphere, and is breathing air entirely free from taint.
I was never tired of gazing into the glorious sky, which, less blue,
I think, than ours, yet seemed palpable—a dome of steel lit up by the
stars. The stars themselves sparkled with intense brilliancy. A small
pocket spy-glass showed the satellites of Jupiter with distinctness; and
Gibbon even declared on one occasion that he could see them with the
naked eye. I could not, but my sight is bad at night. The temperature
is now getting cool, and I slept cold last night, though with all my
clothes on, and covered with two parts of a heavy blanket and a woollen
poncho. The rays of the sun are very powerful in the day, until tempered
by the S. W. wind, which usually sets in about eleven o'clock in the
morning.
The steward of Ximenes, a nice old fellow, with a pretty young
wife, gave us, at a reasonable price, pasturage for the beasts and a
capital chupe. The productions of the country are maize, alfalfa, and
potatoes—the maize very indifferent; but the potatoes, though generally
small, are very fine, particularly the yellow ones. We saw here, for the
first time, a vegetable of the potato kind called _Oca_. It resembles
in appearance the Jerusalem artichoke, though longer and slimmer; and
boiled or roasted it is very agreeable to the taste. Richards compared
its flavor to that of green corn; I suggested pumpkin, and he allowed
that it was between the two. We also saw another vegetable of the same
species, called _Ulluca_. This was more glutinous, and not so pleasant
to the taste. Gibbon shot a pair of beautiful small wild ducks that were
gambolling in the stream and shooting the rapids with the speed of an
arrow.
_May 26._—Started at eleven, and passed the village of Matucana, a
mile from Moyoc. This appears about the size of Surco, and is the
capital of the province, (still Huarochiri.) The Guia de Forasteros
states the number of its inhabitants at one thousand three hundred and
thirty-seven; but this is manifestly too great, and I believe that the
statements of this book concerning populations are made with regard
to the district in which a village is situated, or the _doctrina_, or
ecclesiastical division, of which the _Cura_ has charge. Service was
going on in the church; and Gibbon and Richards, who were far ahead,
had time to go in and say their prayers.
The river is now reduced to a mountain torrent, raging in foam over the
_debris_ of the porphyritic cliffs, which overhang its bed for hundreds
of feet in height. The valley still occasionally widens out and gives
room for a little cultivation. Where this is the case it is generally
bounded on one side or the other by cliffs of sandstone, in which
innumerable parrots have perforated holes for nests; and the road at
these places lies broad and level at their base. We crossed the river
frequently on such bridges as I have described at San Pedro Mama, and
arrived at San Mateo at half-past 5 p. m., having travelled only twelve
miles. The barometer shows a much greater ascent than we have yet made
in one day's travel. We pitched in an old and abandoned alfalfa field
above the town, and got supper from the postmaster.
[Illustration: YANACOTO.
Pl. 2.
Lt. Gibbon del.
Wagner & McGuigan's Lith. Phila.]
_May 27._—San Mateo, a village about the size of Surco and Matucana, is
situated on both sides of the Rimac, and at an elevation of ten thousand
two hundred feet above the level of the sea. The men work the chacras
of maize, potatoes, and beans; and the women do all the household work,
besides carrying their meals to the workmen on the farms, over hills
that would make a lazy man shudder even to look at. They live in poverty
and filth, but seem happy enough. We saw the women winnowing the beans
(which were gathered dry from the plant) by collecting them in pans made
of large gourds, and flinging them into the air; and also sifting flour,
which comes from the other side of the Cordillera, about Jauxa. The
costume of the Serrana women is different from that of the women of the
coast. It consists of a very narrow skirt, and a body of coarse woollen
cloth, generally blue, which comes from Lima, and is belted around the
waist with a broad-figured woollen belt, woven by themselves. A woollen
apron, with a figured border, is worn on the left side, hanging from the
right shoulder by a strap; and in the cold of the morning and evening
the shoulders are covered with a thick, colored blanket, reaching to
the hips. A high, broad-brimmed straw-hat, with shoes of raw-hide, drawn
with a string around the ancle, and no stockings, complete the costume.
These people seem contented with what they have, and don't want money.
It was with great difficulty we could persuade them to sell us anything,
always denying that they had it. On our return from the mines at Párac,
(where Mr. Gibbon had been sick with chills and fever,) he could not
eat the chupe, which had, at first, been made with _charqui_, or jerked
beef, but which had now dwindled down to cheese and potatoes. I made
a speech to some curious loafers about the tent, in which I appealed
to their pride and patriotism, telling them that I thought it strange
that so large a town as San Mateo, belonging to so famous a country as
Peru, could not furnish a sick stranger, who could eat nothing else,
with a few eggs. Whereupon, a fellow went off and brought us a dozen,
though he had just sworn by the Pope that there were no such things in
the village.
_May 28._—Mr. Gibbon and I, guided by a boy, rode over to the hacienda
of _San Jose de Párac_, leaving Richards and Ijurra in charge of
the camp. The ride occupied about three hours, over the worst roads,
bordered by the highest cliffs and deepest ravines we had yet seen. The
earth here shows her giant skeleton bare: mountains, rather than rocks,
of granite, rear their gray heads to the skies; and our proximity made
these things more striking and sublime. We found, on the sides of the
hills, short grass and small clover, with some fine cattle feeding;
and, wherever the mountain afforded a level shelf, abundance of fine
potatoes, which the people were then gathering.
I brought letters from Mr. Prevost to Don Torribio Malarin, the
superintendent of the mines, who received us kindly, and entertained us
with much hospitality. His house was comfortably heated with a stove,
and the chamber furnished with a large four-post bedstead, and the
biggest and heaviest bureau I had ever seen. I was somewhat surprised
at the sight of these—
"Not that the things were very rich or rare,
I wonder'd how the devil they got there."
They must have come up in pieces, for nothing so large could have been
fastened on a mule's back, or passed entire in the narrow parts of the
road.
The Hacienda is situated near the head of a small valley, which
debouches upon the road just below San Mateo; the stream which drains
it emptying into the Rimac there. It is a square, enclosed with
one-story buildings, consisting of the mill for grinding the ore, the
ovens for toasting it when ground, the workshops, store-houses, and
dwelling-houses. It is managed by a superintendent and three mayordomos,
and employs about forty working hands. These are Indians of the Sierra,
strong, hardy-looking fellows, though generally low in stature, and
stupid in expression. They are silent and patient, and, having coca
enough to chew, will do an extraordinary quantity of work. They have
their breakfast of caldo and _cancha_, (toasted maize,) and get to work
by eight o'clock. At eleven they have a recess of half an hour, when
they sit down near their place of work, chat lazily with each other,
and chew coca, mixed with a little lime, which each one carries in a
small gourd, putting it on the mass of coca leaves in his mouth with
a wire pin attached to the stopper of the gourd that carries the lime.
Some dexterity is necessary to do this properly without cauterizing the
lips or tongue. They then go to work again until five, when they finish
for the day, and dine off chupe. It has made me, with my tropical habit
of life, shiver to see these fellows puddling with their naked legs a
mass of mud and quicksilver in water at the temperature of thirty-eight
Fahrenheit.
These Indians generally live in huts near the hacienda, and are supplied
from its store-houses. They are kept in debt by the supplies; and
by custom, though not by law, no one will employ an Indian who is in
debt to his patron; so that he is compelled to work on with no hope of
getting free of the debt, except by running away to a distant part of
the country where he is not known, which some do.
The diseases incident to this occupation are indigestion, called
_empacho_, pleurisy, and sometimes the lungs seem affected with the
fumes and dust of the ore; but, on the whole, it does not seem an
unhealthy occupation.
The principal articles furnished from the store-house are maize, coca,
mutton, charqui, rum, sugar, coffee, tea, chocolate, chancaca, (cakes
of brown sugar,) soap, baize, cotton, and coarse linen cloths, woollen
cloths, silk handkerchiefs, foreign ponchos, ribbons, silk sashes, &c.,
&c., which are supplied to the Indian at about one hundred per cent.
advance on their cost at Lima, and charged against his wages, which
amount to half a dollar a day, with half a dollar more if he work at
night.
The manner of getting the silver from the ore, or beneficiating it, as
it is called in Peru, is this: The ore, after it is dug from the mine
and brought to the surface, is broken into pieces about the size of a
Madeira nut or English walnut, and sent to the hacienda, in hide-bags,
on the backs of llamas or mules. (The hacienda is always situated on
the nearest stream to the mine, for the advantages of the water-power
in turning the mill.) There it is reduced, by several grindings and
siftings, to an impalpable powder. The mill consists of a horizontal
water-wheel, carrying a vertical axis, which comes up through the floor
of the mill, the wheel being below. To the top of this axis is bolted
a large cross-beam, and to the ends of the beam are slung, by chains,
heavy, rough stones, each about a ton weight. These stones, by the
turning of the axis, are carried around nearly in contact with a concave
bed of smoother and harder rock, built upon the floor of the mill, and
through which the axis comes up. The ore is poured by the basket-full
upon the bed, and the large hanging rocks grind it to powder, which
pours out of holes made in the periphery of the bed. This is shifted
through fine wire sieves, and the coarser parts are put in the mill
again for re-grinding. The ground ore, or _harina_, is then mixed with
salt (at the rate of fifty pounds of salt to every six hundred pounds of
harina) and taken to the ovens (which are of earth) and toasted. I could
not learn the quantity of heat necessary to be applied; it is judged of
by experiment.
The fuel used in these ovens is the dung of cattle, called _taquia_;
it costs three cents for twenty-five pounds. The ovens here burn
one million five hundred thousand pounds yearly. After the harina
is toasted, it is carried in hide-bags to the square enclosed in the
buildings of the hacienda, and laid in piles of about six hundred pounds
each upon the floor. This floor is of flat stones, but should be of
flags cemented together; because the stones have often to be taken up
to collect the quicksilver, many pounds of which run down between the
interstices. Ten of these piles are laid in a row, making a _caxon_ of
six thousand two hundred and fifty pounds. The piles are then moistened
with water, and quicksilver is sprinkled on them through a woollen
cloth. (The quantity of mercury, which depends upon the quantity of
silver in the ore, is judged of beforehand by experiments on a small
scale.) The mass is well mixed by treading with the feet and working
with hoes. A little calcined iron pyrites, called _magistral_, is also
added—about four pounds to the caxon. The pile is often examined to see
that the amalgamation is going on well. In some conditions the mass
is called hot; in others, cold. The state of heat is cured by adding
a little lime and rotten dung; that of cold, by a little magistral or
oxide of iron. Practice and experience alone will enable one to judge
of these states. It is then left to stand for eight or nine days,
(occasionally re-trodden and re-worked,) until the amalgamation is
complete, which is also judged of by experiment. It is then carried
to an elevated platform of stone, and thrown, in small quantities at a
time, into a well sunk in the middle of the platform; a stream of water
is turned on, and four or five men trample and wash it with their feet.
The amalgam sinks to the bottom, and the mud and water are let off, by
an aperture in the lower part of the well, into a smaller well below,
lined with a raw-hide, where one man carries on the washing with his
feet. More amalgam sinks to the bottom of this well, and the mud and
water again flow off through a long wooden trough, lined with green
baize, into a pit prepared for it, where the water percolates through
the soil, leaving the mud to be again re-washed. When the washing is
finished for the day, the green baize lining of the trough, with many
particles of the amalgam clinging to it, is washed in the larger well.
The water, which by this time is clear, is let off, and all the amalgam,
called "_pella_," is collected, put in hide-bags, and weighed. Two
caxons are washed in a day. The _pella_ is then put into conical bags
of coarse linen, which are hung up, and the weight of the mass presses
out a quantity of the quicksilver, which oozes through the interstices
of the linen, and is caught in vessels below. The mass, now dry, and
somewhat harder than putty, is carried to the ovens, where the remainder
of the quicksilver is driven off by heat, and the residue is the _plata
piña_, or pure silver. This is melted, run into bars, stamped according
to the _ley_ or quality of the silver, and sent to Lima, either for the
mint or for exportation.
In the refining process the fumes of the mercury are condensed, and it
is used again. Two pounds, however, are lost to every pound of silver.
The proportion of pure silver in the _pella seca_, or amalgam, after the
draining off of the mercury through the bag, is about twenty-two per
cent. A careful experiment made by Mr. Galt, a jeweller of this city,
on a bit of the pella which I brought home from Cerro Pasco, gave but
eighteen and thirty-three per cent. of pure silver.
Salt is worth at this place three reals (37½ cents) the arroba, and
mercury costs one dollar the pound in Lima. The superintendent is paid
twelve hundred dollars yearly; three mayordomos, thirty dollars each,
monthly; the corporals, or heads of the working gangs in the mines,
twenty dollars; the miners, sixty-two and a half cents per day, (as
much more if they work at night;) and the laborers at the hacienda,
fifty cents. This, however, is nominal, being more than swallowed up by
the supplies. The estimated yearly expenses of these mines are thirty
thousand dollars, and the annual yield, seventy thousand dollars.
A caxon, of six thousand two hundred and fifty pounds of the ground
ore, yields, by the assay on the small scale, fifty marks, though only
twenty-five or thirty are obtained by this process, showing a loss of
nearly one-half. The quantity of silver obtained from the _relabes_, or
re-washings, is about twenty per cent. of the whole: that is, if a caxon
yield twenty-five marks at the first washing, the re-washing will give
five.
An idea may be formed of the value of these mines when I state that
at Cerro Pasco, which is seventy-five miles further from Lima, and on
the other side of the Cordillera, ore, which yields only six marks to
the caxon, will give a profit to the miner, though it is saddled with
some duties—such as those for drainage and for public works, from which
the ore of Párac is exempt. Malarin, the superintendent, said that the
caxon must yield fifteen marks here to pay. But granting this, I do not
wonder at his expression, that these mines would in a few years render
my countryman, Mr. Prevost, the richest man in the country, ("_El hombre
mas poderoso, que hay en el Peru_,") he owning a third of them.
_May 29._—Visited the mines. These are situated down the valley with
regard to the hacienda, and are two leagues W. S. W. of it. They are
much nearer San Mateo than is the hacienda, but there is no road to them
from that village. The road, or rather path, lay along the side of the
mountain, and zigzagged up and down to turn precipices, now running near
the banks of the little stream, and now many hundreds of feet above it.
The ride was bad enough at this time—it must be frightful in the rainy
season; though Malarin says he sometimes travels it on horseback. This
I am sure I should not do; and when these paths are slippery I would
much prefer trusting to my own legs than to those of any other animal.
Many persons suffer much in riding amongst these precipices and ravines.
Dr. Smith knew a gentleman, who, "familiar with downs and lawns, was
affected at the steeps of the _Paxaron_ with a giddiness that for some
time after disordered his imagination;" and one of a party of English
officers, who crossed the Cordillera at Valparaiso whilst I was there,
had to return without crossing, because he could not bear the sight of
the sheer descents.
The valley of Párac lies about east and west, and the veins of silver
on the sides of the mountains E. N. E. and W. S. W., thus crossing the
valley diagonally. There are four mines belonging to the establishment,
which employ about sixty workmen, though more could be employed to
advantage. These men are directed by a mayordomo and four corporals.
They are divided into two gangs for each mine: one party will go on
duty at 7 p. m. and work till 5 a. m., when they come out, rest two
hours, and go on again till 7 p. m. They are then relieved by the other
party. This is very hard work, for the mines are very wet and cold. The
getter-out of the ore wields, with one hand, a hammer of thirty pounds,
and the carriers of the ore bear a burden of one hundred and fifty
pounds from the bottom of the shaft to the surface—a distance in this
case of about a quarter of a mile, of a very steep and rough ascent.
When I first met one of these men toiling up in the dark, I thought,
from the dreadful groans I heard before I saw him, that some one was
dying near me; but he does this "a purpose," for when we met he had
breath enough to give me a courteous salutation, and beg a paper cigar.
Boys commence this work at eight years of age, and spend probably the
greater part of their lives in the mine.
The mine called Sta. Rosa, which we visited, has a perpendicular depth
of five hundred and twenty feet—that is, the bottom of the shaft, which
penetrates the mountain at an angle from the horizon of about 25°, is
five hundred and twenty feet below the mouth of it. By the mining laws
the shaft (_cañon_) of the mine must be three feet eight inches high,
three feet five inches wide, and arched for security. The superincumbent
earth frequently requires to be supported by beams of wood laid against
each other in form of Gothic arch. I could not learn how much ore a man
could get out in a day, for it is a very uncertain quantity, depending
upon the hardness of the rock that encloses the vein. Malarin told us
that he had instructed the workmen not to blast whilst we were in the
mine, because the dreadful reverberation of sound often had an unhappy
effect upon people not accustomed to it, which, as we were men who
sometimes dealt in heavy artillery, we did not thank him for.
Returning from the mine we met a drove of llamas on their way from the
hacienda. This is quite an imposing sight, especially when the drove is
encountered suddenly at a turn of the road. The leader, which is always
elected on account of his superior height, has his head decorated with
tufts of colored woollen fringe, hung with little bells; and his extreme
height, (often six feet,) gallant and graceful carriage, pointed ear,
restless eye, and quivering lip, as he faces you for a moment, make him
as striking an object as one can well conceive. Upon pressing on him he
bounds aside, either up or down the cliff, and is followed by the herd
scrambling over places that would be impassable for the mule or the ass.
They travel immense distances, but by short stages—not more than nine
or ten miles per day. It is necessary, in long journeys, to have double
the number required to carry the cargo, so as to give them relays. The
burden of the llama is about one hundred and thirty pounds; he will
not carry more, and will be beat to death rather than move when he is
overloaded or tired. The males only are worked; the females are kept for
the breed. They appear gentle and docile, but when irritated they have
a very savage look, and spit at the object of their anger with great
venom. The spittle is said to be very acrid, and will raise blisters
where it touches the skin. We saw none in the wild state. They are bred
on the haciendas in great numbers. We had no opportunity of seeing the
_guanaco_ or _alpacca_, (other varieties of the Peruvian sheep,) though
we now and then, in crossing the mountains, caught a glimpse of the
wild and shy _vicuña_. These go in herds of ten or fifteen females,
accompanied by one male, who is ever on the alert. On the approach of
danger he gives warning by a shrill whistle, and his charge makes off
with the speed of the wind. The wool of the vicuña is much finer and
more valuable than that of the other species—it is maroon-colored.
A good and learned Presbyter, Dr. _Cabrera_, whose portrait hangs in the
library at Lima, by patience and gentleness, succeeded in obtaining a
cross between the alpacca and vicuña, which he called _paco vicuña_, the
wool of which is said to combine the fineness of that of the vicuña and
the length of staple of that of the alpacca. The value of vicuña wool,
at the port of shipment, was, in 1838, one hundred dollars the hundred
weight; that of the alpacca, twenty-five dollars; and that of the sheep,
from twelve to fifteen. Peru shipped from the ports of Arica, Callao,
and Islay, during the four years between 1837 and 1840, inclusive, wool
of the sheep, alpacca, and vicuña, to the value of two million two
hundred and forty-nine thousand and thirty-nine dollars. (Castelnau,
vol. 4, page 120.)
Were any care taken in the rearing of these wild sheep of Peru, the
country might draw a great revenue from the sale of their wool.
_May 30._—Dull, rainy day. Gibbon laid up with chills and fever, which
he either brought from Lima, or took yesterday in the damp, cold mine.
He _would_ drink as much cold water as he wanted, though our friends
held up their hands in astonishment, and said he would kill himself.
Fire in a stove is very comfortable; the thermometer, during the day,
standing at 50° Fah.
_May 31._—Beautiful day. Ther., at 5 a. m., 36°. The general character
of the rock is red porphyry. There is grass for pasturage; and the hill
sides are covered with a bush of some eight or ten feet high, bearing
bunches of blue flowers, resembling our lilac. There are several kinds
of stinging nettle, one of which, that bears a small yellow flower,
Malarin says, will cause gangrene and death. I had no disposition to
try it; but I doubt the statement. So dangerous a thing would scarcely
be so plentiful where the bare-legged herdsman and miner are exposed to
it. Returned with Gibbon to San Mateo.
_June 1._—Found Richards sick and the muleteer growling at the delay;
loaded up, and got off at eleven. At twelve the valley narrowed to
a dell of about fifty feet in width; the stream occupying its whole
breadth, with the exception of a narrow, but smooth and level mule-path
on its right bank. This is a very remarkable place. On each side the
rock of red porphyry rises perpendicularly for full five hundred feet.
In places it overhangs the stream and road. The traveller feels as
if he were passing through some tunnel of the Titans. The upper exit
from the dell is so steep that steps have been cut in the rock for the
mule's feet; and the stream rushes down the rock-obstructed declivity
in foaming fury, flinging clouds of white spray over the traveller, and
rendering the path slippery and dangerous.
Passed _Chiglla_ and _Bella Vista_, mining haciendas. The country is
quite thickly settled, there being houses in sight all the way between
these two places. The barley here does not give grain, but is cut for
fodder. The alfalfa has given way to short, thin grass; and we begin
to find difficulty in getting food for the beasts. We saw cabbages
growing in the gardens of Chiglla, which is a straggling village of
some three or four hundred inhabitants. Just after passing Chiglla the
mountains looked low, giving the appearance of a rolling country, and
were clothed with verdure to the top. Upon turning a corner of the road
the snow-covered summits of the Cordillera were close before us, also
looking low; and when the snow or verdure suffered the earth to be seen,
this was of a deep pink color. The general character of the rock is
conglomerate. We stopped at four at the tambo of _Acchahuarcu_, where
we pitched and bought barley straw (_alcaser_) at the rate of twelve
and a half cents the armful, called "tercio," which is just enough for
one mule. The mercury in the barometer being below the scale, we had to
cut away the brass casing in front, and mark the height of the column
on the inside of the case with a pen-knife.
_June 2._—Got off at half-past ten. Road tolerably good, and not very
precipitous. At twelve we arrived on a level with the lowest line
of snow. We were marking the barometer, when a traveller rode up,
who proved to be an old schoolmate of mine, whom I had not seen or
even heard of since we were boys. The meeting at this place was an
extraordinary and very agreeable occurrence. It was also fortunate
for me, for my friend was head machinist at the mines of _Morococha_,
and gave us a note to the administrator, which secured us a hospitable
reception and an interesting day or two. Without this we should have
been compelled to pass on, for pasturage here is very scant, and
the people of the mines have to pay a high price for their barley
straw, and are not willing to give it to every stray traveller. At
2 p. m. we arrived at the highest point of the road, called the pass
of _Antarangra_, or copper rock. (The pass of the Piedra Parada, or
standing rock, which passes by the mines of Yauli, crosses a few miles
to our right.) Some scattering mosses lay on a hill-side above us; but
Gibbon and I spurred our panting and trembling mules to the summit of
the hill, and had nothing around us but snow, granite, and dark gray
porphyry.
I was disappointed in the view from this place. The peaks of the
Cordillera that were above us looked low, and presented the appearance
of a hilly country, at home, on a winter-day; while the contrast between
the snowy hills and the bright green of lower ranges, together with the
view of the placid little lakes which lie so snug and still in their
midst, gave an air of quiet beauty to the scene very distinct from the
savage and desolate grandeur I had expected.
Gibbon, with the camera lucida, sketched the Cordillera. I expended a
box of matches in boiling the snow for the atmospheric pressure; and
poor Richards lay shivering on the ground, enveloped in our _pillons_,
a martyr to the _veta_.
Veta is the sickness caused by the rarity of the atmosphere at these
great elevations. The Indians call it veta, or vein, because they
believe it is caused by veins of metal diffusing around a poisonous
infection. It is a remarkable thing, that, although this affection must
be caused by absence of atmospheric pressure, yet in no case except
this, (and Richards was ill before,) that I have known or read of, has
it been felt at the greatest elevation, but always at a point below
this—sometimes on one side, sometimes on the other. The affection
displays itself in a violent headache, with the veins of the head
swollen and turgid a difficulty of respiration, and cold extremities.
The smell of garlic is said to alleviate the symptoms; and the arrieros
generally anoint their cattle over the eyes, and on the forehead, with
an unguent made of tallow, garlic, and wild marjoram, as a preventive,
before attempting the ascent. I did not observe that our animals were
affected, though they trembled and breathed hard, which, I think,
was attributable to the steepness of the hill up which we rode. The
barometer stood at 16.730, indicating an elevation of sixteen thousand
and forty-four feet. Water boiled at 182°.5; temperature of the air,
43°.
The road hence is cut along the flank of the mountain, at whose base
lies a pretty little lake. The hacienda of _Morococha_ is situated on
the banks of a second, which communicates with it; and this again pours
its waters, by a small and gentle stream, into a third, below. These
are, respectively, _Huacracocha_, or Horn lake; _Morococha_, or Painted
lake, (from the variety of colors which its placid surface reflects
from the red, green, and yellow of the surrounding mountains;) and
_Huascacocha_, or Rope lake.
Though not yet sixty miles from the sea, we had crossed the great
"divide" which separates the waters of the Atlantic from those of the
Pacific. The last steps of our mules had made a striking change in
our geographical relations; so suddenly and so quickly had we been cut
off from all connexion with the Pacific, and placed upon waters that
rippled and sparkled joyously as they danced by our feet to join the
glad waves of the ocean that wash the shores of our own dear land. They
whispered to me of home, and my heart went along with them. I thought
of Maury, with his researches concerning the currents of the sea; and,
recollecting the close physical connexion pointed out by him as existing
between these—the waters of the Amazon and those of our own majestic
Mississippi—I musingly dropped a bit of green moss, plucked from the
hill-side, upon the bosom of the placid lake of Morococha; and as it
floated along I followed it, in imagination, down through the luxurious
climes, the beautiful skies, and enchanting scenery of the tropics, to
the mouth of the great river; thence across the Carribbean sea, through
the Yucatan pass, into the Gulf of Mexico; thence along the Gulf-stream;
and so out upon the ocean, off the shores of the "Land of Flowers." Here
I fancied it might meet with silent little messengers cast by the hands
of sympathizing friends and countrymen high up on the head-waters of
the Mississippi, or away in the "Far West," upon the distant fountains
of the Missouri.
It was, indeed, but a bit of moss floating on the water; but as I mused,
fancy, awakened and stimulated by surrounding circumstances, had already
converted it into a skiff manned by fairies, and bound upon a mission
of high import, bearing messages of peace and good-will, telling of
commerce and navigation, of settlement and civilization, of religious
and political liberty, from the "King of Rivers" to the "Father of
Waters;" and, possibly, meeting in the Florida pass, and "speaking,"
through a trumpet louder than the tempest, spirits sent down by the
Naiads of Lake Itaska, with greetings to Morococha.
I was now, for the first time, fairly in the field of my operations. I
had been sent to explore the Valley of the Amazon, to sound its streams,
and to report as to their navigability. I was commanded to examine
its fields, its forests, and its rivers, that I might gauge their
capabilities, active and dormant, for trade and commerce with the States
of Christendom, and make known to the spirit and enterprise of the age
the resources which lie in concealment there, waiting for the touch of
civilization and the breath of the steam-engine to give them animation,
life, and palpable existence.
Before us lay this immense field, dressed in the robes of everlasting
summer, and embracing an area of thousands upon thousands of square
miles on which the footfall of civilized man had never been heard.
Behind us towered, in forbidding grandeur, the crests and peaked summits
of the Andes, clad in the garb of eternal winter. The contrast was
striking, and the field inviting. But who were the laborers? Gibbon and
I. We were all. The rest were not even gleaners. But it was well. The
expedition had been planned and arranged at home with admirable judgment
and consummate sagacity; for, had it been on a grand scale, commensurate
with its importance, or even larger than it was, it would have broken
down with its own weight.
Though the waters where I stood were bound on their way to meet the
streams of our Northern Hemisphere, and to bring, for all the practical
purposes of commerce and navigation, the mouth of the Amazon and the
mouth of the Mississippi into one, and place it before our own doors;
yet, from the head of navigation on one stream to the head of navigation
on the other, the distance to be sailed could not be less than ten
thousand miles. Vast, many, and great, doubtless, are the varieties of
climates, soils, and productions within such a range. The importance
to the world of settlement, cultivation, and commerce in the Valley of
the Amazon cannot be over-estimated. With the climates of India, and
of all the habitable portions of the earth, piled one above the other
in quick succession, tillage and good husbandry here would transfer the
productions of the East to this magnificent river basin, and place them
within a few days' easy sail of Europe and the United States.
Only a few miles back we had first entered the famous mining district of
Peru. A large portion of the silver which constitutes the circulation
of the world was dug from the range of mountains upon which we are
standing; and most of it came from that slope of them which is drained
off into the Amazon. Is it possible for commerce and navigation up and
down this majestic water-course and its beautiful tributaries to turn
the flow of this silver stream from its western course to the Pacific,
and conduct it with steamers down the Amazon to the United States, there
to balance the stream of gold with which we are likely to be flooded
from California and Australia?
Questions which I could not answer, and reflections which I could
not keep back, crowded upon me. Oppressed with their weight, and
the magnitude of the task before me, I turned slowly and sadly away,
secretly lamenting my own want of ability, and sincerely regretting that
the duty before me had not been assigned to abler and better hands.