THE RIVER PLATE AND THE PAMPAS
ARGENTINA, URUGUAY AND PARAGUAY
The name of the River Plate, or the Rio de la Plata, is one which
falls familiarly on English ears, or at least upon the hearing of
those whose interests in finance, stock and share, and bank and
railway of the South American shore, finds material of activity in the
South American "market" in the city of London. They may not know the
origin of its name, nor whence it comes or whither it flows. It is the
"Silver River," named from the _plata_, or silver, which from the Inca
Empire adventurers brought that way, and to-day it carries a stream of
treasure to the pocket of the modern shareholder.
As to the Pampas--a word we also owe to the Inca tongue, this name must
carry memories to many a Briton and inspiration to many another.
Here, then, we are bound for the Plate, towards whose mighty estuary a
fleet of England's steamships constantly directs its course, together
with craft from other European lands, bearing traveller, emigrants or
merchandise; returning thence with the foods of half a hemisphere.
This mighty stream of the Plate, with its tributaries, is second only
in size to the great Amazon in this continent. But how different is its
destiny from that of the dark river of the Equator! If it rises amid
the savage wildernesses, at least it flows through fruitful plains and
waters the abodes of a great civilization.
Let us pay the small homage to the River Plate of first laying out the
map upon our table, and so mark its winding curves and mazy courses.
They come from mountain, from forest, from savage jungle; they sweep
from north and west, pour over the cascades of Brazil, from the slopes
of the far-off Andes, from the dim forests of Paraguay; they filter
through the swamps of the Pilcomayo, a perilous and savage stream, all
in the heart of a continent; the Paraná, the "Mother of the Sea," as
the old Guarani Indians termed it, the Uruguay, the Paraguay, giving
their names to those lands these full-flowing rivers caressingly
encircle, all sweeping down to east and south, perilous or gentle,
by foaming rapid or gentle current, past fertile fields and many a
handsome town, pouring onwards for many a thousand mile, to empty into
that remarkable vent of the South American waters and activity, the
Plata Estuary.
A little over four hundred years ago, in 1516, the Spanish navigator,
Juan de Solis, the chief pilot of Spain, bent upon that insistent
search for a strait--that elusive strait which in the minds of the
geographers of that time showed a way to the real Indies and the East,
but which none found, for the reason that Nature had not afforded one
there--found the great estuary of what is now La Plata, a hundred and
fifty miles wide. Back to Spain with the news he went, returning with
a further mandate to explore, when he sailed up the great waters for
three hundred miles.
Here he thought to capture some of the Indians of the "Mother of
Waters," and to take them with him to Spain. But they, resenting the
pretension, ambushed the explorer's party, and de Solis was killed.
Four years later Magellan essayed the passage.
But the name of La Plata did not result from these voyages. It was
Sebastian Cabot, the Englishman in the service of Spain, who, later,
ascending the great estuary then known as the Mar Dulce, or fresh-water
sea, discovered the Paraná, and, following it and the Paraguay River
upstream, and landing where the city of Asuncion now stands, found
the Guaranis wearing silver ornaments, and from these baubles--which,
however, came in reality not from the district itself but from across
the Andes, from the still unknown Inca Empire of Peru--gave the name of
the Plate or Plata River.
Its wealth to-day comes not from precious metals, but from the bounties
of Nature in the vegetable and animal world: the wealth of corn and
cattle.
[Illustration: BUENOS AYRES.
Vol. II. To face p. 160.]
Cabot established a settlement at San Espiritu. The rumours of a
great, rich, unknown empire fired his imagination. Then he returned
to Spain for means to open up communication with the lands beyond the
Andes. But in his absence the garrison was massacred by the Indians. A
chief of the Timbus became enamoured of a certain Spanish lady among
the few colonists, and he, striving to gain possession of her, caused
the treacherous murder of the garrison. Two years after Cabot's return
to Europe, the astounding news of Pizarro's conquest of Peru arrived,
in 1532, and adventurous spirits were fired with the desire themselves
to set forth on similar quests of gold and fortune. Among these spirits
of the times was the Marquis of Mendoza, and the story of how he failed
in reaching Peru forms one of the interesting pages of history in
this picturesque period. Mendoza, on February 2, 1534, founded Buenos
Ayres, which has grown to the vast and wealthy Argentine capital[32]
of to-day. Some of Mendoza's people, who had survived the dangers to
which many fell victims, founded Asuncion, the first Spanish American
interior capital, to-day the capital of the Republic of Paraguay.
But let us turn to our map.
The Paraná River, rising in Goyaz, in Southern Brazil, flows for 1,600
miles to its confluence with the Paraguay, and thence 600 miles to the
Plate. Its main branch, the Paranahyba, drains a region but little
known on the southern watershed of Brazil; and there are many other
tributaries which, although obstructed in places by rapids, may be
navigated in canoes, carrying the venturesome traveller into regions
wild and remote, amid the rocky valleys and dense forests beyond the
Tropic of Capricorn. There are magnificent cascades on these rivers,
and dreadful rapids and profound gorges, cut out by the river in the
rocks, through which the torrent plunges with frightful velocity, its
roar awakening the echoes of the woods and the broken wilderness.
By the main stream of the Paraná our steamer, of not more than twelve
feet draught, reaches the city of Paraná, and here we are 300 miles
above Buenos Ayres. Rosario, which we shall have passed on the voyage
upstream, is 185 miles from Buenos Ayres, and may be reached by larger
vessels of fifteen feet draught.
To proceed now onwards upstream to Asuncion, our steamer must not
draw more than ten feet of water, or it will strand on the shallows,
but here we are little short of a thousand miles from the Plate, in
the very heart of the continent. To reach Asuncion, after five days'
steaming up this full-flowing river, we have entered a region of
gorgeous forests and beautiful backwaters, the home of the _Victoria
regia_ lily and of bright plumaged kingfishers and of the alligator.
Away to the west lies the great Chaco plain or desert, and the
Pilcomayo River. The elevation of the town is about 250 feet above
sea-level, and thus we have ascended to that altitude on the current.
To ascend the Pilcomayo River, the western affluent of the Plata, will
demand more effort than the easy passage of Paraná. It is a stream
tortuous and of great length, but of little volume in comparison with
those great streams which irrigate the lands we have described.
Unexplored in part, this wild waterway has a sinister reputation by
reason of the disasters which have befallen the early attempts to
navigate its waters. Its headwaters are in the Andes of Bolivia, in
the region of Sucre and Potosi, and from thence to the edge of the
Chaco the river falls 8,000 feet in 350 miles. It filters through a
vast and dismal swamp a hundred miles across, and traverses numerous
lagoons. Racing down the mountain slopes the Pilcomayo crosses the
great plain of the Chaco and pours into the Paraguay River not far
from the town of Asuncion. Many tributaries, many bifurcations, divide
and lessen its current on its winding course, which at times wanders
about in search of new channels, eroding and washing away the soil of
the Pampas; a desolate and capricious stream. But one valuable asset
of this and kindred waterways in the future, we may reflect, will be
in the hydraulic power it is capable of furnishing, an asset indeed of
value, to be developed some day, in a region where Nature has omitted
to furnish motive power in the more accessible form of coalfields.
Moreover, as this part of the continent becomes more settled under the
growing exigencies of civilization, there is the valuable function of
irrigation to be developed.
A waterway of a very different character is the Uruguay River. We may
trace its course for a thousand miles, from where its many headstreams
flow down the slope of the Brazilian Serra do Mar, or maritime range,
leaving which the river runs through beautiful country, open and
hilly, for a long distance. Great cataracts interrupt the course,
and, in places, contracted in width between deep, thickly wooded
banks, the stream is of great depth, and its waters, flowing over a
sandstone bottom, are generally clear, with little silt. It is subject
to heavy floods by reason of the rains in its upper basin, which at
times submerge the rocks which obstruct its current. But, apart from
its upper reaches, broad and full-flowing, the Uruguay encircles the
Republic whose name it bears on its western side, and, falling into the
Plate, affords, in conjunction with the sea, a water-frontage on three
sides of the State, and is navigable for 200 miles from its mouth as
far as the towns of Salta and Paysandu. Many hundreds of miles of the
river are navigable in smaller craft, affording valuable waterways for
the inhabitants on its banks.
The enormous quantity of water of this great fluvial system, pouring
into the Plate, give that estuary a greater volume than the great
Mississippi. At its mouth the Plate is 138 miles wide, and opposite
Montevideo, the Uruguayan capital, its bosom is still 57 miles broad,
whilst, narrowing, it is 25 miles across at the confluence of the
Paraná and Uruguay.
The port of Buenos Ayres, however, is not favoured by Nature as
regards the depth of its harbour, which is only kept open for ocean
steamers by constant dredging. This commercial and maritime navel
of South America thus suffers from a considerable disadvantage. An
outlay amounting to over £12,000,000 has been necessary to render the
docks of the great entrepôt always accessible to the numerous ocean
steamers which make it their haven. Before the artificial channels were
dredged, such vessels as drew over fifteen feet of water could not
approach within twelve miles of the port, and unloading was laboriously
performed from launches.
It cannot be said that the shores of the estuary of the Plate River, as
we approach Buenos Ayres, impress themselves upon the mind by reason
of their beauty. The city stands on a flat plain, without background
of hills or other pleasing topographical feature, and its surroundings
are, in consequence, low and monotonous. The main objects to break
the skyline are the unhandsome forms of giant grain elevators--those
structures more familiar to the traveller from the United States, where
they abound. Other outstanding objects are the huge slaughter-houses,
like those of Chicago. The aspect of the place is, in fact, strictly
utilitarian. When, moreover, we read the enthusiastic descriptions of
the city, of its wealth, its public buildings, its boulevards, we must
recollect that these features lie beyond the poor, clustered dwellings
near the water-front, of folk who, largely necessitous immigrants,
have been unable or unwilling to proceed into the interior, whether
by reason of disillusion or from the abuses they fear will be
practised upon them. The Argentine Government has done much towards
the settlement of the Republic, but the economic conditions and humane
direction of immigrants is one which no Government has yet been able
sufficiently to compass. These considerations, however, may be left for
further remark elsewhere in these pages. Buenos Ayres is a handsome
city, a source of pride to Argentina, and an instance of the civic
possibilities of the Spanish American race.
Before reaching Buenos Ayres we shall have entered Montevideo, the
capital of Uruguay, the smallest of the South American States, a
seaport and city more beautifully situated, extending around the shore
of its bay, with a rocky headland jutting out in the west. Here the
Atlantic breezes blow freely over the city--situated on its rolling
lands, a city one of the cleanest in the world and one of the most
pleasing in South America.
[Illustration: MAR DEL PLATA.
Vol. II. To face p. 166.]
The sky of Montevideo seems unfailingly blue, the sun shines
constantly, the temperature is that of summer, rarely falling below
50° even in winter. The handsome harbour has been rendered safe for
vessels, and docks were built under large expenditure: work carried out
by national funds, without the need of a foreign loan--that inevitable
Spanish American method of performing a public work. Rio de Janeiro
and Buenos Ayres have their advantages, æsthetic or commercial, but
Montevideo, in point of climate and other amenities, is their leader.
On the opposite shore of the estuary stands the Argentine city of
La Plata, capital of Argentina, a few miles inland from the port of
Ensenada, a provincial capital founded in 1882. The model taken in
its town-planning was Washington, but the streets are of a width so
considerable as to give an air of disproportion, in conjunction with
the low brick buildings. Here we may visit the most important museum in
South America, ethnographical and archæological.
But to return to Uruguay.
We shall not confuse in our minds the two Republics of Uruguay and
Paraguay, as is often done. The one is progressive and wealthy, the
other backward and poor. Their boundaries are far from each other,
separated by portions of Brazil and Argentina, but they are united by
the great waterways of the Plate, as we have already seen.
If Uruguay is a small country in point of area, being about the size of
the British Isles, which is not large in comparison with the vast areas
of territory of her neighbours on the Continent, the Republic contains
much that is important, both as regards its own life and development
and its relations with foreign lands. As an indication of the latter
element, we may recollect the many millions sterling of English money
invested here in public works and other matters.
The history of the land has been a chequered one. War and peace have
alternately succeeded each other ever since independence was gained,
and the soil has had its full baptism of the blood of its own sons. But
much of this customary dreadful history of Spanish America has here
been tinged by the patriotic spirit of the Uruguayans, their strong
national mind and their individualism.
The strange mixture of idealism and cruelty which is found in the
outstanding figures of Spanish American revolutionary history is, we
may here reflect, remarkable. We find men who have lived the dreadful
lives of guerilla chiefs, with their hands not merely stained with
blood, but their honour besmirched with the most horrible deeds--deeds
of torture, of treason, of massacre, of rape, of robbery--sometimes
enunciating the most philosophical and beautiful sentiments or enduring
aphorisms. The dividing line between bloodshed and cruelty and
philosophy is, in Spanish America, a very narrow one, and the Spanish
American may be called upon to cross it perhaps between breakfast and
lunch. We find such figures and situations in every one of the twenty
States of Iberian America, from Mexico to Uruguay.
A national hero of Uruguay was Artigas, an ex-smuggler who rose to be
Dictator over a vast territory; who rose with dramatic rapidity in the
turbulent times of the War of Independence and the civil struggles
that followed. It is not here suggested that Artigas was of the
character described in the former paragraph, although some historians
have painted him in the darkest colours, but opportunity is taken to
show the varied sides of such characters, in their enunciations of
lofty sentiments. When, in 1815, Artigas was endowed by the Montevideo
Government with the title of "Captain-General, Protector and Patron
of the Liberty of the Nation," he replied: "Titles are the phantoms
of States. Let us teach our countrymen to be virtuous. It is thus I
have retained the title of a simple citizen." Now comes the flash of
philosophy. "The day will come," said this guerilla chief, "when men
will act from a sense of duty, and when they will devote their best
interests to the honour of their fellow men."
Here is a further page from the early history of Independence on the
River Plate:
"Artigas was now encamped for the first time with a translated nation
and an independent army of his own. The condition of both was grimly
tragic, pathetically humorous. For fourteen months almost the only
shelter, that served for all alike, was afforded by the branches
of the trees and the boards of the carts that had brought them. As
for the army, it was composed of strangely heterogeneous elements.
Honest countryfolk rubbed shoulders with professional criminals and
cut-throats; Indians from the destroyed Jesuit missions went side by
side with fierce-faced Gauchos; while townsmen, negroes and a few
adventurous foreigners made up the mixed gathering.
"The men were in deadly earnest, since the example of Artigas seems
to have inspired even the most depraved with a spark from his own
fire. Had it been otherwise they would undoubtedly have succumbed to
the disadvantages with which they had to contend. Arms were scarce.
A certain favoured few were possessed of muskets and swords; but
the weapon in chief use was the lance, the national arm of River
Plate folk, the point of which, here at Ayui, was usually fashioned
from the blade of shears or a knife, or from the iron of some other
agricultural instrument. Many, however, had perforce to be content
with a long knife, with the lasso and the sling--the _boleadores_--as
subsidiary weapons. Yet even these proved by no means despicable
in the hands of the men whose sole garment was the ragged remnant
of a poncho tied about the waist, and who exercised with poles in
preparation for the time when a musket should be in their hands.
"It was with the aid of an army such as this that Artigas would
cross the river to make his incursions among the hills of his native
country, and would engage Portuguese and Spaniards alike in battles
from which the desperate and motley companies of men would frequently
emerge victorious. Artigas was now assisted by numerous minor chiefs,
many of whom were of a character quite unfitted to stand the light of
day. Otorgues and Andresito were the most noted of these. The methods
of the former were utterly brutal. Although the fact is discredited,
he is credited by many with the order to a subaltern officer to 'cut
the throats of two Spaniards a week in order to preserve the morale.
Failing Spaniards, take two Buenos Ayrens for the purpose'!
"Andresito was an Indian from the deserted Jesuit missions who
commanded a considerable force of his own race. He appears to have
interspersed his dark deeds with some evidence of better qualities
and even of a grim humour. A coarse instance of this latter is
supplied when he entered the town of Corrientes in the heyday of
Artigas's power. On this occasion the Indian troops behaved with no
little restraint towards the terrified inhabitants, and contented
themselves with levying contributions towards the clothing of the
almost naked army. This accomplished, Andresito determined to
exhibit the social side of his temperament. He organized several
religious dramas, and followed these by a ball in honour of the
principal residents of the town. These, however, failed to attend,
their reluctance to dancing with Indians overcoming their prudence.
On learning the reason from some crassly honest person, the enraged
Andresito caused these too particular folk to be mustered in the main
plaza of the town. There he obliged the men to scour the roadway,
while the ladies were made to dance with the Indian troops.
"Although no merit or subtlety can be claimed for such methods,
they at all events stand apart from the rest in their lack of
bloodthirstiness. Compared with the sentiments revealed in a
proclamation of Otorgues in taking possession of Montevideo, the
procedure at Corrientes seems innocuous and tame. One of the clauses
of this document decrees the execution within two hours of any
citizen who should speak or write in favour of any other government,
while the same fate was promised to one 'who should directly or
indirectly attack the liberty of the province'! The humour in the
employment of the word 'liberty' is, of course, totally unconscious.
"Such proclamations, naturally, served purely and simply as a licence
for convenient murder. Employing lieutenants of the kind, it is
little wonder that much of the guilt of their accumulated deeds
should be undeservedly heaped upon Artigas's head. Not that the
Commander-in-Chief himself was inclined to put a sentimental value
upon human life; indeed, a delicacy on this point would be impossible
in one who had passed through the scenes of his particular calling.
In any case his hatred of robbery was deep-rooted and sincere. After
the execution of three criminals of this type, he proclaims to his
people at Ayui: 'My natural aversion to all crime, especially to
the horrible one of robbery, and my desire that the army should be
composed of honourable citizens ... has moved me to satisfy justice
by means of a punishment as sad as it is effectual.' A little later
he makes a similar appeal, adding, 'if there be remaining amongst
you one who does not harbour sentiments of honour, patriotism and
humanity, let him flee far from the army he dishonours'! Here we
get the flowers of the south, earnestly thrown, but alighting in
too earthy a bed! The poor army, with its impoverished, ragged
loin-cloths, and with its lassos and slings, undoubtedly valued
the occasional luxury of a full stomach at least as highly as the
abstract virtues. Yet they probably heard the words with sincere
admiration, feeling an added pride in their beloved leader who could
employ such phrases. In any case--whether as a result of punishments
or proclamations--the crime of robbery soon became rare almost to
extinction within the sphere of Artigas's influence.
"The war itself was each month growing more savage in character.
Such virtues as the Uruguayan army possessed were recognized least
of all by the Spaniards. Elio, the Viceroy, had erected a special
gallows in Montevideo for the benefit of any prisoners that might be
captured, while Vigodet, his successor, endeavoured to strike terror
by measures of pure barbarity. By his order a body of cavalry scoured
the countryside, slaying all those suspected of Artiguenian leanings,
and exposing the quartered portions of their bodies at prominent
places by the roadside. Each patriot, moreover, carried a price upon
his head. It is not to be wondered at that the Uruguayan forces made
reprisals, and that corpses replaced prisoners of war."[33]
These matters took place a century or more ago, as did the picturesque
incidents of the _Treinta y Tres_, the thirty-three resolutes who swore
to liberate their country, when the news of the Battle of Ayacucho, in
Peru, on the distant Andes, had reached the land of the Plate and the
Pampas.
"The rejoicings that the victory of Ayacucho aroused in the capital
of Argentina stirred to the depth both Lavalleja and a company of
fellow-exiles from the Banda Oriental. A meeting of these patriots
was held on the spot, the result of which was an enthusiastic
determination to place their own country upon the same footing as the
rest. Doubtless many hundreds of similar gatherings had already been
effected--and concluded by vapourings of thin air. But the spirit
of these men who had thus come together was of another kind. Having
sworn solemnly to free their country, action followed hot-foot on
the heels of words. A couple of their number were sent at once to
Uruguay to prepare the minds of a trusted few, while the rest made
preparations for the expedition that was to follow.
"The mission of the two deputies proved successful. They returned
to Buenos Ayres, the bearers of many promises of support and
co-operation. Nothing now remained but to take the first irrevocable
step in the campaign that was to bloom out from this very humble seed.
"'Treinta y Tres' has now developed into a proper name in the Banda
Oriental; for the number of men who started out from Buenos Ayres for
the sake of Uruguay was thirty-three. The name has now been locally
immortalized. Among the infinite variety of objects that it endows
may be counted a province, a town, innumerable plazas and streets
and a brand of cigarettes.
"There is certainly nothing that is intrinsically humorous in the
adventures of these noble men who set out for their patriotic
purpose in the face of such terrible risks. Yet as a specimen of
the constitution of the armies of the South American factions at
this period a survey of the grades held by the small gathering is
illuminating. In the first place the diminutive expedition had for
its Commander-in-Chief Colonel Juan Antonio Lavalleja, who had
beneath him three majors and four captains. These in turn were
supported by three lieutenants, an ensign, a sergeant, a corporal and
a guide. The remaining eighteen constituted the rank and file of the
force--in fact, the Army proper.
"The little expedition so overwhelmingly officered set out from
Buenos Ayres, proceeding northward along the Argentine shore.
Reaching a point where the river had become comparatively narrow,
they embarked in small boats, and launched out on the Uruguay at dead
of night. A gale obliged them to seek refuge on a friendly island,
and caused a day's delay. But the next evening they embarked once
more, and reached in safety the beach of La Agraciada on their native
shore. There they unfurled their chosen tricoloured banner, and swore
once again to attain liberty or death.
"The expedition was now actually on the scene of its mission, and
shortly after daybreak it began its march to the north. During the
course of a few hours they collected _en route_ reinforcements of
forty able-bodied and armed Orientales.
"Proceeding steadily onwards, the gallant little army, officers and
all, found itself in the neighbourhood of the small town of Dolores,
better known formerly as San Salvador. This was held by a garrison of
eighty men in the service of Brazil. Determined to inflict a first
decisive blow, Lavalleja led his men onwards to the attack. The
moment chanced to be especially propitious, since the officers and
principal men in the town had attended a dance on the previous night.
So great had been the delights of the _baile_ that the principal
men had found it necessary to continue their repose long into the
morning--a circumstance that is not unknown even to this day.
"Had it not been for an error on the part of the patriot guide the
town would undoubtedly have been captured by surprise and taken
almost without a blow. As it was, the official chanced to mistake the
situation of a ford in an intervening small river. This necessitated
a lengthy march along the banks ere a place suitable for the passage
was found, and the presence of the small company with the tricoloured
flag was discovered with amazement by the inhabitants.
"Thus ere Lavalleja's expedition had succeeded in crossing the stream
there had been moments of wild bustle in Dolores. Officers sprang out
of bed to gird on their swords in haste; soldiers ran to assemble
with uniforms even more than usually awry, while the municipal
officers doubtless ran to and fro in aimless confusion. Nevertheless
by the time that the turmoil was at an end the garrison had had an
opportunity to muster, and to sally out against the advancing band
that had not yet gained the town."[34]
To-day considerable prosperity is seen among those who hold power and
place, and control lands and commerce in this enterprising Republic;
and the people of Uruguay have evolved their own personality.
"The hospitality of the higher classes is proverbial. Indeed,
reputable conviviality of all kinds is at a premium. In Montevideo
the occasions for the giving of banquets are numberless. Thus if
a man has achieved something in particular it is necessary that a
banquet should mark the event, if he has expressed his intention of
achieving anything in particular, a banquet forms the appropriate
prelude to the work, and if he has failed to do anything in
particular, there is nothing like one of these selfsame banquets to
console him for the disappointment.
"It is, in fact, much to the Uruguayan's credit that he contrives to
extract a vast deal of enjoyment from life in a comparatively homely
and unostentatious manner. The race meetings here, for instance, are
most pleasant functions, although the horses are not burdened with
the responsibility of those tremendous stakes that prevail in some
other parts. The theatres, too, although they obtain the services
of excellent companies, are moderate in their charges--moderate
considering the usual scale that prevails in South America, that is
to say.
"The advent of a prosperity, however, that now seems more definite
than ever before has produced a similar effect upon household
expenditure as in the neighbouring countries. The cost of living has
risen by leaps and bounds during the past two or three years--a fact
that salaried foreigners resident in the country have found out to
their somewhat acute inconvenience. In the Campo, naturally enough,
this phenomenon of ways and means has not occurred. When live stock
and acres are numbered only by the thousand such annoying matters as
house-rent and the butcher's bill fail to carry any significance.
Nevertheless, in Montevideo the former has practically doubled itself
within the last half-dozen years, and all similar items have followed
suit as a matter of course. But the rise in the price of land
signifies prosperity, and is at all events welcome enough to those
directly interested in the soil.
[Illustration: MONTEVIDEO: THE PLAZA AND THE HARBOUR.
Vol. II. To face p. 178.]
"South America, taken as a whole, is a continent whose inhabitants
are not a little addicted to ostentation. The phase is natural enough
in view of the conditions that obtain in so many of the Republics.
In the case of the pastoral countries, even in quite modern times
the broad lands had lain comparatively valueless until the
introduction of the freezing process for meat and the opening up
of the great wheat and maize areas sent up the price of the soil
by leaps and bounds. Yet even prior to this era a certain amount
of prosperity had prevailed, and young South Americans had become
accustomed up to a certain point to wend their way for educational
purposes to France and to England, and thus to assimilate European
ideas with those that prevailed at the time in the Republics of the
south.
"The sudden advent of overflowing wealth thus found them to a great
extent prepared to introduce the most high-flown of modern ideas
into the life of their own country. No doubt the very consciousness
of these riches that, head for head, undoubtedly far surpass that
of the dwellers in the Old Continent, caused the South Americans
to fling aside the last vestige of pastoral simplicity and to make
the roots of this great wealth of theirs bud out into residential
palaces and entertainments of a rather fabulous order. Since they
had shown clearly enough that their material gains had surpassed
those of Europe, what more natural than that they should endeavour
to prove with equal conclusiveness their ability to outshine the
continent of their ancestors in the ornamentation and luxuries that
follow automatically in the footsteps of fortune! Surely the trait is
nothing beyond the proof of the healthy rivalry.
"The Oriental is undoubtedly a man of deeds; but in his case the
tendency to action is not effected at the expense of speech. He is,
indeed, a born orator, and on the slightest provocation will burst
forth into a stream of eloquence that can be quite indefinitely
continued. In any case, it is pleasant enough to listen to the
resounding periods in which the customary lofty sentiments are
couched, but it is as well to bear in mind that the oratorical effort
may mean very much--or very little.
"Uruguay, more especially its capital, is well-found in the matter of
femininity. Indeed, ever since it became a full-blown city Montevideo
has been celebrated for its pretty women. This fortunate state of
affairs has now become a well-recognized fact, in which the masculine
portion of the community takes an even greater pride than does the
sex more directly involved. Should a patriotic Montevidean be engaged
in conversation with an interested foreigner, the chances are that
it will not be long ere the confident question is asked: 'And our
señoritas, what is your opinion of them?'
"In such a case there can be only one opinion--or expression of
opinion. Conscience may be salved by the reflection that it is as
difficult to find a woman without some stray claim to beauty as it is
to light upon a dame of sixty without a grey hair. In both cases the
feature may be hard to see. If so, it must be taken for granted. In
the case of the Montevidean señorita no such feat of the imagination
is necessary. To the far-famed graces of her sisters throughout South
America she adds the freshness of complexion and the liveliness of
temperament that are characteristic of the land.
"Indeed, to conceive these lighter virtues, added to the natural
Spanish stateliness, is to picture a very bewitching feminine
consummation. Much has been written concerning the señoritas of
Uruguay, and yet not a line too much. Their own kith and kin have
sung their praises with all the tremendous hyperbole of which the
Spanish tongue is capable. White hands, bright eyes, raven hair, and
a corresponding remainder of features that resemble all pleasant
things from a dove to the moon--the collection of local prose and
verse on the subject is justifiably enormous.
"The Montevidean lady has now, of course, become essentially modern.
She rides in a motor-car, plays the piano instead of the guitar,
and has exchanged the old order in general for the new. Yet the
same vivacity, courage and good looks remain--which is an excellent
and beneficial thing for Montevideo and its inhabitants. Indeed,
the beach of Poçitos or the sands of Ramirez shorn of their female
adornment would be too terrible a disaster to contemplate even on the
part of the most hardened Oriental. And at this point it is advisable
to forsake for the present the more intimate affairs of the people,
leaving the last word to the ladies, as, indeed, is only fitting--and
frequently inevitable.
"The Uruguayan's appreciation of pleasant Nature is made abundantly
clear in the surroundings of the capital. The city, as a matter of
fact, is set about with quite an exceptional number of pleasant
resorts both inland and upon the shore. Of the former the Prado park
and the pleasure suburb of Colón are the best known. The Prado is
reached within half an hour from the centre of the city by means of
tramway-car. Situated on the outskirts of the town, the park is very
large and genuinely beautiful. Groves of trees shading grassy slopes,
beds of flowers glowing by the sides of ponds and small lakes, walks,
drives and sheltered seats--the place possesses all these commendable
attributes, and many beyond.
"The Montevidean is very proud of the Prado, and he has sufficient
reason for his pride. He has taken a portion of the rolling country,
and has made of the mounds and hills the fairest garden imaginable.
The place would be remarkable if for nothing more than the great
variety and number of its trees, both Northern and sub-tropical. But
here this fine collection forms merely the background for the less
lofty palms, bamboos and all the host of the quainter growths, to say
nothing of the flowering shrubs and the land and water blossoms. One
may roam for miles in and out of the Prado vegetation, only to find
that it continues to present fresh aspects and beauties all the while.
"The expedition to Colón is a slightly more serious one, since, the
spot being situated some eight miles from the centre of the town, the
journey by tramcar occupies an hour or so. As much that is typical of
the outskirts of Montevideo is revealed by the excursion, it may be
as well to describe it with some detail.
"It is only when once fairly launched upon a journey of the kind that
the true extent of Montevideo and the length of its plane-shaded
avenues proper become evident. Nevertheless, as the car mounts and
dips with the undulation of the land, the unbroken streets of houses
come to an end at length, giving way to the first _quintas_--the
villas set within their own grounds. The aspect of these alone would
suffice to convince the passing stranger of the real wealth of the
capital. Of all styles of architecture, from that of the bungalow
to the more intricate structure of many pinnacles and eaves, many
of them are extremely imposing in size and luxurious to a degree. A
moral to the newcomer in Montevideo should certainly be: Own a quinta
in the suburbs; or, if you cannot, get to know the owner of a quinta
in the suburbs, and stay with him!
"But if you would see these surroundings of Montevideo at their very
best, it is necessary to journey there in October--the October of
the Southern Hemisphere, when the sap of the plants is rising to
counterbalance its fall in the North. The quintas then are positive
haunts of delight--nothing less. Their frontiers are frequently
marked by blossoming may, honeysuckle and rose-hedges, while
bougainvillæa, wistaria and countless other creepers blaze from the
walls of the houses themselves.
"As for the gardens, they have overflowed into an ordered riot of
flower. The most favoured nooks of Madeira, the _Midi_ of France,
and Portugal would find it hard to hold their own in the matter of
blossoms with this far Southern land. Undoubtedly, one of the most
fascinating features here is the mingling of the hardy and homely
plants with the exotic. Thus great banks of sweet-scented stock will
spread themselves beneath the broad-leaved palms, while the bamboo
spears will prick up lightly by the ivy-covered trunk of a Northern
tree--a tree whose parasite is to be marked and cherished, for ivy
is, in general, as rare in South America as holly, to say nothing of
plum-pudding, though it is abundant here. Spreading bushes of lilac
mingle their scent with the magnolia, orange, myrtle and mimosa,
until the crowded air seems almost to throb beneath the simultaneous
weight of the odours. Then down upon the ground, again, are
periwinkles, pansies and marigolds, rubbing petals with arum-lilies,
carnations, hedges of pink geranium, clumps of tree-marguerites and
wide borders of cineraria. From time to time the suggestions of the
North are strangely compelling. Thus, when the heavy flower-cones of
the horse-chestnut stand out boldly next to the snow-white circles
of the elder-tree, with a grove of oaks as a background, it is with
something akin to a shock that the succeeding clumps of paraiso and
eucalyptus-trees, and the fleshly leaves of the aloe and prickly-pear
bring the traveller back to reality and the land of warm sunshine.
"But it is time to make an end to this long list of mere growths and
blossoms. The others must be left to the imagination, from the green
fig-bulbs to the peach-blossom and guelder-roses. Let it suffice to
say that a number of these gardens are many acres in extent, and that
you may distribute all these flowers--and the far larger number that
remain unchronicled--in any order that you will.
"As the open country appears in the wider gaps left between the
remoter quintas, and the space between the halting-places of the tram
is correspondingly lengthened, the speed of a car becomes accelerated
to a marked degree. The cottages that now appear at intervals at the
side of the road are trim and spotlessly white. They are, almost
without exception, shaded by the native ombú-tree, and are surrounded
with trellis work of vines and with fig-trees, while near by are
fields of broad beans and the extensive vineyards of commerce."[35]
Montevideo, we remark, is a city whose population may soon approximate
to the figure of half a million. It is fortunate, moreover, in
possessing good roads around it, for the country--unlike Argentina--is
seamed with good stone for highway building, and thus the surrounding
landscape may readily be surveyed.
Before leaving Uruguay, we should cast a glance towards its _Campo_,
the lands of its Pampas.
"The Uruguayan Campo is not to be described without a certain amount
of hesitation. It would be simple enough for one who had caught only
a distant passing glimpse of the land of the pastures to put down
the country without further ado as rolling grass upland watered by
many streams. That such is the foundation of the Campo is undeniable.
Nevertheless to begin and end with such a phrase would be equivalent
to a description of the peacock as a bird who wears coloured feathers.
"The subtle charms of the Uruguayan Campo are not to be discerned
through the medium of the bioscope-like glimpses that so many
travellers obtain of it. Very rightly, it refuses to reveal itself
fully until a certain amount of familiarity has justified a nearer
acquaintance. From an æsthetic point of view it certainly holds far
more than might be expected from a country of such comparatively
limited attributes.
"If you desire to watch the moods of this rural Banda Oriental, ride
out to mount one of the highest shoulders of the downland, and wait
there, either in the saddle or out of it. You will obtain little
sympathy in the task. Eccentric to the mind of the estancieros,
frankly mad in the eagle eyes of the Gaucho--a calm survey of the
Campo is worth all such merely human depreciation!
"The aspect of the country in the immediate neighbourhood of where
the observer has taken his stand will be green in the main, although
the unbroken verdure by no means obtains throughout. Here and there
the ground is strongly marked by the occasional heaps of stones that
come jostling to the surface, and that recline in the fashion of
small bleak islands in the midst of the green waves. But, should the
time be spring, these latter are themselves flecked frequently almost
to the extinction of their own colouring. The great purple bands
and patches of the _flor morala_ lie thickly upon the land. These,
however, stand apart, since where they glow the serried ranks of
blossom permit no others to raise their heads.
"But these, though the boldest of their kind, are by no means
the sole occupants of the landscape. Indeed, one of the chief
characteristics of the Banda Oriental Campo is the wealth of
beautiful and comparatively lowly plants that grow amidst the
grasses. They are of the type of English blossoms, peering out shyly
from between the green blades, blowing purely and sweetly in their
innocence of the heavy sickliness of the Tropics. It is where the
ground is chiefly dotted with these fresh flowers that the smile of
the Campo is most brilliant.
"So much for the immediate surroundings up to the point where the
more intricate markings become merged in the broader tints of the
landscape. Down in the hollows are bands of dark, close green formed
by the trees that shade the streams. With scarcely a break in the
narrow walls of verdure they run from valley to valley, accurately
defining the banks of the small rivers whose waters they conceal.
Within these leafy lanes lurk the only spots upon the Campo, save for
the rare woodland, that do not stare frankly upwards, exposing all
their earthly soul to the blue sky.
"Away in the far distance there is a magic glamour. There the lands
are no longer green to the eye. The soft waves, as they rise and
dip in an accumulation of folds towards the final horizon line, are
bathed in warm purple. The Banda Oriental has been called 'the purple
land' by one who knew it well, and never was a name better applied.
Without the foreground--that is itself strongly purpled by the banks
of the _flor morala_--all is purple and mystic. The land has its
ordinary mirages as well; but here is one that at all times confronts
the traveller--that wonderful land of the horizon that, unattainable,
dies farther away as it is approached.
"Yet, notwithstanding its soft romance, the place is essentially
alive. It is a blowy haunt of clean fresh airs that sweep the slopes
and open valleys to billow the grass tops and to refresh mankind. It
is amidst such surroundings that the Oriental of the country dwells.
His type is not very numerous, it is true, and--although the dearth
of houses suits the landscape itself most admirably--the scarcity of
habitation is a little lamentable in so wealthy and pleasant a land.
It is practically certain, as a matter of fact, that the pastures
will bear more roots in the near future than they have ever known in
the past; but in the meanwhile it is necessary to take them as they
are, and their inhabitants as well.
"Of these inhabitants the true _paisano_, the Gaucho, decidedly
claims the chief share of attention. The Gaucho of the Banda
Oriental is not to be confused with his brethren of the neighbouring
countries. In appearance he presents perhaps the finest specimen
amongst the various kindred families of his race. He is taller in
stature, and, if possible, even more athletic in his lithe frame than
his neighbour. His complexion, moreover, though frequently dusky
and invariably tanned, is peculiarly wholesome and fresh. It was
inevitable that the blowy downlands should have produced a fitting
and appropriate breed of amazingly healthy, hardy and fearless men
to whom the art of horsemanship has become second nature, while the
occasional enforced spells of pedestrianism have degenerated into a
mere unwelcome accident of life.
"The temperament of the Uruguayan Gaucho shows corresponding
distinction from that of the rest. It goes without saying that he is
strongly imbued with the grim dignity of the race. Silent austerity
here, however, is modified by lighter traits. In the same way as
the higher social member of his country, he is more easily moved to
laughter than his neighbours, and indulges from time to time in frank
outbursts of joviality.
"For practical purposes it is necessary to regard this child of the
Campo from three standpoints--from that of the worker, the player
and the fighter. It is rare enough that one of them is not called
upon to fill all these three rôles on a good many occasions during
his lifetime. As stock-rider, he has proved his courage, fidelity and
honesty of purpose to the full; his moments of recreation are taken
up by equestrian sports, guitar-playing and chance affairs of the
heart, whilst in warfare he has had only too many opportunities of
displaying his reckless brilliancy--frequently, it must be admitted,
at the cost of discipline and order.
"In his private quarrels the Argentine Gaucho will bottle up his
wrath until his overflowing passion culminates without warning in
the rapid knife thrust or revolver shot. The conclusion of a serious
dispute between his Uruguayan brethren will almost certainly be the
same; but the tragic climax will be approached in quite another
fashion. The atmospheric effervescence of the Banda Oriental will
enter into the case. There will be shouting, vociferation and not a
little abuse. Not until a fair exchange of all this has been bandied
to and fro will come the flash of steel or flame--and the red stain
upon the grasses of the Campo.
"That these dwellers upon the downlands should prove themselves born
fighters is no matter for surprise. For the dusky side of their
ancestry they claim the Charrúa Indians, the fiercest and most
warlike of all the tribes in the neighbouring provinces. With this
strain added to the blood of the old Spaniards, and the mixture
fostered and nourished by the breezy hills, the result has been a
being whose keen sense of dignity and honour were ever in the very
active custody of knife or lance." But let us change the scene.
"The first two hundred miles of the Uruguay represent a particularly
noble highway of waters, far broader and more imposing, indeed,
than the equivalent stretch of the Paraná. Ocean-going vessels here
penetrate to Paysandú, and beyond it to the Lemco port of Colón on
the Argentine shore, while the really magnificent steamers of the
River King, Mihanovich, produce their finest specimens to ply to and
fro here. But, as the banks of the stream contain not only some of
the most fertile lands of the Republic, but much of interest beyond,
it is worth while to follow its course, beginning at Montevideo
itself, which, as a matter of fact, is somewhat to anticipate the
waters of the true Uruguay.
"By the quayside of the capital are grouped three or four of the
Mihanovich craft, large, two-funnelled vessels with an imposing
array of decks surmounted by an unusually spacious promenade that
crowns the whole. One of these is bound for Salto--or rather for the
Argentine town of Concordia that lies opposite that port--but just
now it is not advisable to be tied hard and fast to her broad decks,
since she must call at Buenos Ayres on her way, and at many other
spots outside Uruguay and the scope of this book.
"We will therefore perform the strange feat of making a break in
the trip ere it is begun. In any case, it is necessary to leave
the quay over whose broad, paved surface of reclaimed land the cabs
are rattling, and where the policeman and porters stand, and where,
moreover, a strong group of Salvationists are singing lustily,
surrounded by a motley but attentive group such as the precincts of
a port attract. But the graceful _Triton_ shall churn her way out
into the open without us, since we will cling so far as possible to
the Uruguayan shore, forging upwards through the yellowing waters,
to halt at Sauce with its willow-covered lands and Colonia with
its rocky beach, until Carmelo is passed, and at Nueva Palmira the
River Uruguay has been fairly entered. Even then, however, it is
necessary to accept the fact more or less on trust, and to confide
in the accuracy of the map rather than in that of the eyesight. For
the faint line that has recently appeared on the horizon to the left
might as well stand for a distant streak upon the waters as for the
low-lying Argentine shore that it actually represents.
"To the right, the Uruguayan bank is well defined. Here the
undulations of the land swell boldly out from the edge of the river,
while in many places rocks and boulders strew the sloping foreshore
as though to accentuate the frontier between stream and land that
is so faintly defined upon the opposite coast. Here and there the
verdure of the hills is broken by the darker green bands of the
eucalyptus plantations, through which from time to time gleam the
white walls of an estancia-house. At intervals the chimneys of a
saladero prick upwards from the nearer neighbourhood of the bank.
About these centres of their doom the speck-like figures of the
cattle dot the surrounding pastures, grazing in fortunate ignorance
of their end.
"The traffic upon the river itself is by no means inconsiderable.
Native topsail schooners laden with jerked beef, fruit and timber
come gliding serenely down the stream beneath their spread of sail.
One of these craft is especially indicative of the main industry of
the land. The vessel is laden as high as the booms will permit with
horns of cattle, the bleaching mounds of which must represent the
sacrifice of many thousands of animals. There are smart Government
tugs, too, that hold the official guardians of the mighty stream,
and great dredgers of queer and monstrous shape that steam slowly
along to find an anchorage where the bottom is shallow, and there
remorselessly to bite out mouthfuls from the unduly lofty bed.
"At rarer intervals appear the ocean-going craft and sailing
vessels. It would be safe to wager that there is not one of those
passing downstream that is not laden with some portions or other of
the bodies bequeathed to humanity by the unconsulted yet generous
bovine souls. Nevertheless, the exact species of cargo would be more
difficult to predict. It might be beef itself, or hides that will
make leather upon which to sit while consuming the meat, or horns
which will provide handles for the necessary complement of knives,
or indeed many other products useful for similar purposes. There
never was such a creature as the ox for the provision of a variety of
articles that all eloquently urge the benefit of his death!
"A tall and majestic structure has come into sight from round a bend
in the stream now, and is sweeping rapidly downwards. With grey
hull, white upper-works about her rows of decks, and twin black
funnels to cap the whole, she is one of the proud fleet of steamers
that ply throughout the entire system of the great rivers. If the
vessel upon which you may be found bears a corresponding =M= upon
its funnel--which in the case of a passenger craft may be taken as a
practical certainty--you may be assured that you will not be passed
without recognition, even if sheltered by a mere paltry stern-wheeler
that is bound for one of the small tributary streams. Combining
affability with size, the whale will blow out three deep roars of
salute from its great horn, that will be echoed by a like number
of shrill notes from the treble whistle of the minnow. Such is the
etiquette throughout the entire length of the rivers. The six blows
are sounding throughout the day from the Tropics of Brazil downwards
to where the La Plata and the ocean meet.
"Upon the right-hand side Fray Bentos has come into view, marked
in the first place by a great collection of tall black chimneys
glistening in the sun. Beneath is verdure and massive white buildings
and streets of dwelling-houses, while to the front is the Lemco port
with a small forest of masts rising from its waters. The place, in a
double sense, represents the very incarnation of Uruguay's trade. A
greedy spot that swallows live cattle by tens of thousands to render
them up again in the pathetically diminished form of extract! Even
now the odour of soup floats heavily in the air from across a mile of
water--a proof that Fray Bentos is busily occupied in turning out its
brown rivers of fluid.
"The factory, the most notable in the country, is indeed strongly
symbolical of the land where starvation in ordinary circumstances of
peace has never yet been known. Havana may be the paradise of the
smoker, Epernay that of the champagne lover; but the eater's heaven
is undoubtedly situated in Uruguay, a paradise in which the spirits
of departed and honest butchers might well revel in perfect joy.
"Just above Fray Bentos the islands dot the river more plentifully
than in almost any other part of the great stream. As is the case on
the Paraná, it is difficult enough at times to distinguish between
these and the true bank on the Argentine shore; both are equally
lowly and each covered with the same density of willows and native
scrub. Amongst these larger islands, however, whose surface may
comprise several square miles, are numerous smaller pieces of land,
and some quite diminutive specimens that can lay claim to no more
than a few yards of area. These are baby islands--young territories
that have only just succeeded in raising their heads above water.
For an island here is conceived, grows and dies in a fashion that is
vegetable rather than purely earthy. The fact is not really curious,
seeing that vegetation is directly concerned in their birth.
"The conception of one of these is evident even now. A tangle of
the thick leaves of the camelota--the water plant with its mauve
hyacinth-like flower--has in its downward floating course fouled the
earth of a shallow in mid-stream. The arrested clump of green has
already inveigled other objects to keep it company in its trap. A
few sticks and branches and tufts of grass are already fast in the
embrace of the powerful stems and green leaves, while at the end that
faces the stream the water-driven sand has risen at the obstacle, and
has shyly protruded a small round hump or two above the ripples. The
life of the thing is as uncertain as that of a seedling or of a human
child. Under favourable conditions it will grow and solidify year by
year until from the few leaves and sticks will have extended some
square miles of tree-covered soil. On the other hand, it may be swept
remorselessly away in its earliest days ere the tentative formation
has had time to secure sufficiently firm hold of the earth.
"In any case the life of these islands is comparatively short, and
fresh floods and currents are forming some and destroying others
all the while. During these periods of flood many of them would
seem possessed of the characteristics of icebergs. Detached by the
irresistible force of the currents, great fragments of the vegetation
and camelota-plant that cling to their sides go swirling down the
stream. Though they can boast no polar bears, they are occasionally
freighted with other beasts whose neighbourhood is equally
undesirable. On such occasions snakes and many four-footed specimens
of northern creatures form the unwilling tenants of these frail rafts
of vegetation. It is said that many years ago one of unusually large
size struck the shore of Montevideo itself, disgorging four jaguars,
who entered the town as much to their own terror as to that of the
inhabitants.
"With Fray Bentos once left in the rear, the river becomes distinctly
narrowed, and, where no islands intervene, the features of either
bank begin to be clearly distinguished at the same time. The
Argentine shore has broken away from its dead level now, and is
rising in gentle undulations; the Uruguayan coast, too, as though in
a determined endeavour to retain its physical superiority, has taken
to heap itself in far loftier and more imposing hills than before.
"The next town of importance at which the steamer halts is that
of Paysandú, the great centre of ox-tongues. Indeed, were one to
adopt the popular figurative methods of certain magazines, amazing
results might well be extracted from the commerce of the place. Thus,
supposing a year's accumulation of Paysandú ox-tongues were able
jointly to give forth the notes that they were wont to render in
life, the effect of the combined roar would probably be to deafen the
entire populace of the Republic, and to blow every atom of water from
the river! The number of men they would feed, and the distance they
would cover if extended in a line I do not know; but it may be taken
for granted that the export of these preserved instruments of bovine
speech is very considerable.
"Paysandú ranks as the second commercial city in the Republic. It
is true that, so far as size is concerned, it is altogether dwarfed
by Montevideo, since the inhabitants of the smaller town number
only twenty thousand or so. Yet, the centre of a rich pastoral
and agricultural province, the place is of no little commercial
importance, and, although its architecture remains largely of the
pleasant but old-fashioned Spanish style, not a few new buildings
and boulevards have already sprung into existence. Like the majority
of towns of its kind, it is well equipped with electric lighting,
telephones and other such modern appliances, although its tramcar
traction is still effected by the humbler methods of the horse.
"To the north of Paysandú the stream narrows, the islands become
few and far between, and the course of the river is distinct and
well-defined. The landscape, too, is more varied now than that
of the lower reaches. Among the Uruguayan rounded hills, a few
well-marked tablelands spread their broad, level surfaces in the way
that is characteristic of so many parts of the Republic. Both the
inland valleys and river banks are covered with an added density of
vegetation, while beaches of shining white sand jut out at intervals
from the shore. As for the Argentine bank, it has quite suddenly
assumed a marked individuality of its own. It is covered with a
reddish yellow rolling soil, tinged only lightly with green, from
which close groves of palm-trees sprout upwards for mile after mile.
It is as though a portion of Africa on the one shore were facing a
rather wooded and broken portion of the South Downs on the other!
"The water itself has been growing more limpid all the while, now
that the dead-flat, soft alluvial soil of the Argentine bank has
given way to a harder and more stony surface. It has become shallow
in parts, too, and the nose of the steamer often gives a tentative
turn to the right or left as she cautiously feels her way. The craft
has penetrated almost to the limits of the lower stretch of the great
river now, and the rising bed is a premonitory symptom of the end.
"On the right has now risen the loftiest bluff that has yet marked
the Uruguayan shore. It forms one of the walls of a striking and bold
tableland. The place is now known as the _Mesa de Artigas_--the table
of Artigas. It was upon the summit of this hill that the Uruguayan
national hero had his chief encampment, and it has been described
as a desolate and lonely spot, haunted by murdered spirits and by
the memory of horrors, that no living being cared to approach. The
description cannot be said to hold good at the present moment. The
green slopes are dotted with grazing cattle and sheep, while at one
point the distant figures of two mounted Gauchos are careering to and
fro, and the cattle in the neighbourhood are wheeling together and
lumbering forward as a result of their manœuvres."[36]
Uruguay is known as the Oriental Republic, from its position on the
eastern side of the river--the _Banda Oriental_--and it was formerly
part of Argentina, but became separated in 1828, after revolutionary
war, brought to an end through the mediation of Great Britain, which
declared it a free and independent State.
The towns of Paysandú and Salto, which the steamer reaches on the
Uruguay River, are at the head of low-water navigation. Paysandú has
its tale of political savagery to tell, when its gallant defender,
Leandro Gomez and his companions, were butchered in cold blood, after
bombardment of the place by Brazilian forces. It has suffered much from
revolution.
Both these towns are famous for the exports from their _saladeros_, or
meat-curing establishments. Beyond Salto lies a rich grazing country,
on whose undulating hills fat herds of cattle subsist. And indeed we
are here in some of the richest stock-raising land of South America,
bordering on similar districts in Southern Brazil, whose frontier lies
not far to the north. Both towns are laid out with modern conveniences
and public institutions. Between them navigation has its risks from
rocks and shoals, and above Salto continuous navigation is not
possible, as before remarked.
The Uruguay River forms in its higher reaches the eastern boundary of
the Misionès province, a curious enclave belonging to Argentina, thrust
in between Paraguay and Brazil; a region of sad memories, perpetuated
in its name and in the lifeless villages along the banks of the Paraná
and Uruguay Rivers. It was the land of the Missions of the Jesuit
fathers, with their terrible and melancholy history, at which we shall
presently cast a glance. First, however, we must do justice to the
great land of Argentina.
FOOTNOTES:
[32] The administrative capital is La Plata.
[33] _Uruguay_, Koebel, South American Series.
[34] _Uruguay_, op. cit.
[35] _Uruguay_, op. cit.
[36] _Uruguay_, op. cit.