THE RIVER PLATE AND THE PAMPAS
ARGENTINA, URUGUAY AND PARAGUAY
Of comparatively recent times there has arisen, in the temperate zone
of South America, facing upon the Atlantic seaboard, a city which has
rapidly become a centre of great wealth and an emporium of world trade,
with a population greater than that of any other metropolis of Latin
America, and with an ebb and flow of modern life and activity such as
we have been prone to associate with the Anglo-Saxon rather than the
Spanish development of American civilization.
Such is this city of Buenos Ayres, which we now approach; the capital
of the huge territory of the Republic of Argentina, which, having
its northern boundary above the Tropic of Capricorn, extends for two
thousand miles towards the frigid region above Cape Horn.
It is with no feelings of envy that we call to mind the fact that this
enormous and potential region might have formed part of the British
Empire; a Canada in South America. For such might have been its destiny
if General Beresford, in 1806, had not been forced to surrender, after
obtaining possession of Buenos Ayres, and if General Whitelocke, later,
had not been forced to capitulate before the organized opposition of
the colonists, when Spain and France were pitted against Great Britain.
The Republic of Argentina is a country so enormous and diversified that
to attempt here to give anything but the merest descriptive outlines
would be futile. But let us endeavour to obtain at least a slight idea
of its form and configuration.
We shall bear in mind that the country consists broadly of four
topographical divisions. First is the land of the Pampas, at which
we have already glanced. Second we may speak of the great plains and
broken, and in part forested, deserts, of what is termed the Gran
Chaco, forming that curious northern, undeveloped part of Argentina,
bounded by Paraguay on the one hand and the Bolivian Andes on the
other. Third we have the broken Andine region, abutting upon Bolivia
and running south to the frontiers of Chile. Fourth is the vast
territory of Patagonia, with the Chilean Andes on its west; a region
occupying all the great narrowing part of the continent to the frigid
south.
Argentina, as it is known to travel, commerce and history, is the
Argentina of the Pampa. Herein lies its civilization, its great towns,
its railway network, the things by which it lives.
The Pampa is a vast storehouse of food, and in some respects it does
not lack beauty. Much of it is a dead level, but it has its elevations
(both materially and metaphorically). It has, too, its great scourges
of Nature, in the droughts which at times have ruined its industries,
and which must inevitably have their periods of visitation; in the
other plagues, as of the devastating locust, for which doubtless
science will produce remedy or extirpation. The tempestuous winds which
blow across it are at times another scourge, and the dust storms may
often cause the dweller to ask whether the plagues of Egypt shall still
be visited upon it! As to the droughts, we do not know if these are
not extending, just as it may be that the snowfields of the Andes are
diminishing, as if threatening some slow drying-up of the fountains of
heaven here.
The early folk of these great plains were not of a meek and humble
character, such as the Spaniards so often encountered. They were
_Indios bravos_; fighters and stubborn savages, implacably hostile.
Nevertheless, they gave way in time, as destiny had decreed they should.
[Illustration: THE PAMPAS, ARGENTINA.
Vol. II. To face p. 204.]
Perhaps the things of the animal world, in its commercial sense, might
be taken as most remarkable here. From few mares and stallions brought
in by the men of Spain, vast equine droves, half wild, appeared with
marvellous rapidity, and the later breeds multiplied similarly. It was
a horseless land before the white man came. To-day a horseman pursuing
his way over the vast plain is a very prominent object against the
skyline. There was no ox or cow, but to-day the teeming herds in
their millions--though not unnumbered--have built, through commerce,
through the products of their hides and bodies, the palaces and
boulevards of Buenos Ayres and its sister cities, the homes of the
millionaires of this new American nation; a land where the progenitors
of both man and beast first humbly crossed from old Europe, and now
pour forth their riches thereto.
How far this wealth shall still increase we do not know. It may be that
the limit of the pastoral industry in the Argentine Pampas has been
reached or approached. The herds do not now greatly increase, since
their census in 1908, of nearly thirty million head of cattle. Nature
and man both take a heavy toll, the one in adverse climatic conditions,
the other in waste and carelessness, as if the prodigality of the
fruits of the earth were inexhaustible. On the great ranges, the cattle
exist almost automatically, bearing the scorching sun or piercing
wind; and in the droughts, as we pass thereover, the vision will be
shocked by a lamentable spectacle of dying or rotting cattle on every
hand. They are too numerous; they cannot be fed or watered, or buried
when they succumb. Dust, flies and mummified bodies around offend the
traveller here, and it is doubtful if man has a right to bring to being
animals in such profusion that Nature cannot support them.
Possibly, in the future, better quality and lesser quantity will be the
methods forced upon the cattle owners here. There is, too, a tendency
towards smaller cattle ranges and perhaps more "intensive" methods,
and what may be called "cattle feudalism" may beneficially suffer some
modification. Irrigation, again, brings about a more varied production.
Cold storage and the making of meat extracts are, of course, one of the
primary features of the cattle industry.
The enormous wheat-plains are the next source of wealth here, and
other lands have cause to be grateful for both the wheat and the meat
of Argentina. But the yield is comparatively low, being but twelve to
thirteen bushels to the acre, for methods of cultivation are often
crude.
The Argentine farmer is greatly dependent upon his wheat and maize,
and if his cereal crop fails he has few resources to tide him over the
bad time. The resources of Argentina in cereals are very great, and it
has been calculated that there are 175 million acres of land available
for their cultivation. Argentina provides a great part of the world's
supply of maize, perhaps half, but in times of drought this falls very
seriously.
[Illustration: THE CITY OF CORDOBA, ARGENTINA.
Vol. II. To face p. 206.]
Social conditions on the Pampa will doubtless become modified in the
future. There is too great a contrast--for a democratic or republican
country--in the palatial home of the rich _estanciero_ and those of the
labourer. Again, the arriving immigrant, upon whom Argentina is so much
dependent for labour, being unable often to obtain land for himself in
this enormous country, emigrates again, and during some years half of
their numbers go away elsewhere. It would seem that the Government
is awake to this condition, although the remedy is slow.
The great plains of the Chaco may, in the future, bring to being
another important branch of agriculture, in the growing of cotton, an
industry already successfully implanted in this often fertile belt,
whose rich black soils have been likened to those of the Mississippi
Valley. This region might add much to the world's wealth in cotton
production, but here again the question of labour is paramount.
But let us take our further way across these oceans of the Pampa, until
the far line of the Andes rises on our horizon.
We may leave Buenos Ayres early and reach Rosario in the afternoon, the
train making its way over a country flat as a table, with fields of
wheat or maize, or pasture lands; with here and there a white-washed
house and a few trees around it: trees of that variety which the
all-devouring locust will not attack, for such a species there is.
Perhaps the locusts are upon us, swarming in at the window of the
carriage, where the native traveller crushes them vindictively. They
may be as thick in the air as the flakes of a snowstorm.
On the farms, one method of getting rid of the locusts is by creating
an infernal din by the beating of pots and pans, when they retreat to
the lands of a neighbor! Where do they come from? The Gran Chaco has
been accused of being their breeding-ground and point of departure,
but whatever their origin, they are a veritable destructive plague,
destroying perhaps in a few hours wide areas of smiling crops and
fruitful gardens.
We reach Mendoza, beautifully situated, and watered by streams which
flow from the Andes, giving life to many a fruitful sugar-cane
plantation and vineyard, where under irrigation scientifically
practised, from dams and conduits, the fertile soil yields up wealth in
its most delightful forms, wealth of sugar, of wine, of deep pastures
of alfalfa. Here, indeed, is the California of Argentina, on the slopes
of the Andes, with Mendoza as its pleasing metropolis.
To the north lies Tucuman, famous in still greater degree for its
production of sugar, with over thirty factories making sugar and
alcohol, and yielding great wealth to their owners.
Here, however, if we are disposed to be critical, we shall point to the
unlovely barracks of the labourers who are instrumental in producing
this wealth. In Argentina, unfortunately, agricultural labour is little
protected by the law, and contrasts are often painful. However, the
climate at least is kind.
Leaving this region we shall traverse belts of dusty wilderness, which
constitute part of Argentina--deserts that extend to the Andes. In
this, the _Arabia Deserta_ of South America, caravans in olden times,
in the Colonial period, often perished and left no trace. The thirst,
the dust, the savage Indian, swallowed them up. Spain ordered that all
trade should pass this way, through Tucuman and Salta, the route from
Peru. It was in the town hall of Tucuman town that Independence from
Spain was first pronounced.
The railway system in this part of South America pushes its conquering
path westwards, and through Juyjuy--a name of difficult pronunciation
for the uninitiated[37]--and beyond we may reach the railways of
Bolivia, and so the Andes.
But the great thoroughfare of travel is the Trans-Andine Railway, a
monumental work of the engineer, which, after many delays, pierced the
Andes and gave means of access to Chile and the Pacific coast. We may
have reached Rosario by the great highway of the river. The city is the
outlet to a rich productive region, and stands on the eastern margin of
the great Pampas. Rosario is, in the main, a commercial centre, whence
many products of Northern Argentina are embarked on the full-flowing
Paraná which washes its quays. Sacks of wheat, bales of hay, cattle
and all their products, bags of sugar, maize in large quantities, and
_quebracho_ extract, are the principal of these exports. It reflects,
or indeed in part gives rise to, the activities of Buenos Ayres, to
which it comes second in importance as regards size and commerce.
Upon the site of Rosario, until the middle of last century, but a small
village stood, founded in 1730, where now the straight cross-streets,
in chess-board regularity, of the modern town are laid out, together
with a handsome boulevard lined with residences, pleasingly
interspersed with turf and trees, and many public buildings.
Paraná, which we reach in our further voyage upstream, is also classed
as a seaport, notwithstanding that it is more than 600 miles from the
open sea. Yonder ferry boats gives access to Santa Fé, on the opposite
side of the river, a town of more ancient character, founded by the
Spanish in 1573 as a halting-place on the voyage to Asuncion.
Paraná stands well above and some distance from the river, and is
the capital of the rich province of Entre Rios, over whose territory
the agriculturist or economist may well cast a satisfactory glance.
The name of this province in English signifies "between the rivers";
descriptive of the region bounded on the one side by the waterway
we have ascended, and on the other by the Uruguay River. This is
the "Mesopotamia" of Argentina, otherwise known as the "garden of
Argentina," from its well-watered and fertile nature, its pastoral and
agricultural occupations, its products of fruits and corn, its woods
and its mild and healthy climate. Had this province devoted more energy
to its better development materially and morally, and less to political
conflict and revolutionary strife, its picturesque designation would be
more amply justified, but it has ever been one of the most turbulent
districts in the Argentine confederation. Now, its prosperity has
resulted in more settled conditions.
[Illustration: IGUAZU FALLS.
Vol. II. To face p. 210.]
Our way now lies still farther up this great waterway, to the
romantic land of Paraguay, for such this inland country has often been
designated.
We have already seen that Asuncion is reached by steamer, and this
was, indeed, until a few years ago, when the railway was built, with a
train-ferry, the only means of reaching the Paraguayan capital.
"He who can afford time for an up-river journey from Buenos Ayres to
Asuncion will find the experience as instructive as anything else of
the kind throughout South America. It is true that the flat pastures
which go to make up the earlier stretches of the landscape lack a
good deal from the picturesque point of view. But it is this very
distribution of the scenery which adds to the charm of the trip,
for, as the sub-tropical regions begin to exert their influence,
and as the banks approach each other more nearly, the charm of the
surroundings increases steadily.
"After a certain point has been reached there are very few hours
or dozens of miles which are not productive of some new feature or
other to captivate the eye of the traveller. But not until that
famous wheat centre, the Argentine town of Rosario, has been reached
does this phase of the journey begin. There for the first time the
flat, reed-covered banks of the river fall away, to give place to
definite _barrancas_, or cliffs, that boldly mark the edge of the
great stream. When the grain-shoots and line of moored steamers
that mark this thriving town have been passed, the sandstone cliff
continues at intervals on alternate banks; the vivid scarlet of the
ceibo-tree becomes more frequent; and the clumps of camelota, the
floating water hyacinth, tend to increase in size. The districts,
moreover, are obeying one of the primal laws of the world in that, as
the blossoms, birds and butterflies increase in brilliancy, so does
the human complexion tend to grow duskier. But here this applies only
to the humbler people on the banks and to the fisherfolk and watermen
who sit in their crude dugout canoes. The more important persons
continue white-skinned, the sole distinction between them and their
brethren of the lower reaches of the river being that they now begin
to form the aristocracy of the land instead of standing as the mere
representatives of the wealthier classes.
"When the roofs and parks and gardens of Paraná have been passed
and the buildings of Colastiné, the river port of Santa Fé, have
been left behind, the warmer airs already give a foretaste of what
is to come farther to the north. All this time the vegetation has
been increasing on the banks. The wide stretches of open, treeless
pastures have long ago fallen away. The country where the cattle
graze is now pleasantly interspersed with clumps of indigenous trees,
and the line of the banks is obscured in parts by dense clusters of
verdure, in which the palms begin to occupy a more and more important
space.
"Presently on the right bank of the river, and thus to the left of
the steamer's bow, appears that curious low-lying country of the
Chaco, the alternate forests, swamps and pastures that extend from
here northwards through the entire length of Paraguay and well into
Bolivia on the other side. There are orchids hanging up aloft among
the foliage now, and doubtless a monkey or two among the denser
clumps of woodland. But these pioneer creatures of the Tropics to
the north are rare enough here, and in any case are invisible. Their
presence thus is generally unsuspected by the newcomer, which is not
the case with the mosquitoes and those clouds of other _bichos_,
whose numbers increase in the most amazing fashion with almost every
hour that goes by.
"Indeed, did one judge of the winged pests of these neighbourhoods
by the myriads which abound above the fervid waters, the outlook
would be sufficiently unpromising even to the most mosquito-hardened
of men. The song of this plague is continuous of an evening now,
and when the daylight has vanished in the abrupt fashion in which
it is wont to fade away in these latitudes, the electric globes of
the steamer are all but obscured by the insects that dance about
them so thickly as to resemble dense clouds of smoke that roll in
confused masses about a half-seen flame! Fortunately, these river
reaches--most beloved of all the haunts of the winged creatures--do
not afford a fair and moderate sample of the insect life of these
latitudes, quite considerable enough though the usual run of this is
wont to be.
"Arrived at the Argentine town of Corrientes, one of the most
important strategic spots in the whole river system has been reached.
To one bound upstream this is the parting of the river ways. A few
miles to the north of the town the choice is open to the traveller
whether he will turn to the right and ascend the waters of the Alto
Paraná, with Argentina on his right hand and Paraguay on his left,
or whether he will keep straight on to the north and reverse this
territorial situation, having Argentina on his left and Paraguay on
his right.
"The main line of the waters, with Asuncion as its object, lies
straight to the north, and almost immediately after leaving
Corrientes the steamer has entered the Paraguay River. It is at this
point that the somewhat curious nomenclature of the various streams
becomes most evident. It is the remarkable fate of the Paraguayan
when bound from his home to the Atlantic Ocean to have to descend
three different rivers, or, if you prefer it, various stretches of
the same river known by three different names. From the point of view
of fluvial equity, there is no doubt that considerable wrong has
been done to the River Paraguay in the way of nomenclature. Why this
splendid navigable stream, at its junction with the cascade-broken
and far shorter Alto Paraná, should yield its name to that of the
lesser current, and should continue to flow southwards as the Paraná,
is a sufficiently incomprehensible matter to most geographers. And
then, when it has all but run its course, the river performs a second
wedding, with the Uruguay this time, and again changes its name.
But on this occasion neither stream obtains the advantage over the
other, for both roll their few remaining miles to the sea under the
entirely fresh name of La Plata. Nevertheless, there does not seem
to be a doubt that, from the point of view of importance, the name
of the great stream which rises to the north of the inland Republic
should be the Paraguay for its entire course as far as the ocean.
[Illustration: A CHACO FLOOD.
Vol. II. To face p. 214.]
"This digression, however, has led us away from the upstream journey
to Asuncion. Once in the Paraguay River, the beauties of the
scene would seem to have become more marked. The banks have drawn
sufficiently near to each other for their increasing charms to become
plain. No longer does the steamer steer a tortuous course through
a maze of low and reedy islands that never permit the stranger to
be certain whether he is gazing on the mainland or whether further
channels at the bank lie between him and the actual shore.
"Now the banks of the stream, with their flower-starred vegetation,
are plainly defined. Once to the north of the mouth of the Bermejo
tributary, moreover, which pours its amazingly red and muddy waters
into the main stream, the river has become comparatively limpid.
Alligators had already made their appearance in the Paraná; but such
banks of sand and mud as emerge here and there from the waters of
the Paraguay are far more thickly covered with the sluggish bodies
of the small saurians, that in these latitudes seldom exceed six or
seven feet.
"Presently, as the steamer drops her anchor before a port to her
right, there is a significant touch of colour about the small
official boat which puts out to her from the shore. Hitherto the
light blue and white of Argentina has flown at the stern of these
craft. But from this one for the first time floats the red, white,
and blue of Paraguay. The steamer has arrived at Humaitá, the first
port of the inland Republic."[38]
A massive, stark ruin, standing up on the bank of the river, the church
of Humaitá, carries us into the history of the dreadful war which laid
the land desolate here, and to which we must shortly refer. Continuing
for the present our way upstream, the view extends over tobacco and
sugar-cane fields, interspersed with luxuriant banana groves. Reed
huts cluster here and there near the bank, and groups of dark-skinned
workers are seen. On the opposite shore a fringe of dense vegetation
hides the Chaco plains--the haunt of the savage Indian and the tapir,
but marked by occasional clearings. Rafts of _quelracho_ timber float
down the stream, the heavy wood buoyed up by trunks of a lighter kind,
for the _quelracho_ does not float. Soon we reach the mouth of the
Pilcomayo, with its low bank, and then the roofs and spires of Asuncion
come into the field of view, the salient points of a city that spreads
itself over the rolling ground, surrounded by pleasant verdure.
Asuncion is to be regarded as a picturesque city. There is a wealth of
flower, which often covers the hovels on the outskirts. The city is
built partly on its hills and partly on the sandy riverine plain, and
contains some interesting buildings. Life here is generally simple,
and has certain attractions by reason of this simplicity. It is nigh
upon the tropic zone, but its environment is such that the climate is
pleasant indeed, and, in fact, has been enthusiastically described by
some as "containing all the elements of perfection."
Asuncion was long the seat of Spanish rule, which extended over this
vast region of river and forest, and here, among other phases, the
bitter struggle between the Church and the Jesuits was played out.
Life, we have said, is simple, even for the upper class, although
in its way typical of Spanish American culture. In humbler circles,
clothing is simple. A cotton chemise is a sufficient garment for a
woman, and perhaps a white _manta_ round the head, in the fashion
brought by Spain from the Moors; whilst her husband wears nothing more
than a loose shirt and trousers--clothing that costs little and lasts
long.
These sartorial conditions refer to the Indian folk who, however,
constitute the bulk of the nation. Upper-class people, of course, wear
boots and shoes, and would indignantly refute any aspersion as to being
backward in the refinements of life. There are some good buildings
in Asuncion, showing the customary Spanish American ideas in civic
architecture. The most prominent edifice is a bank, built originally
as a palace by the younger Lopez, and there is a national college and
a public library, but educational progress is slow in Paraguay. The
principal streets are paved, and lighted with gas and electricity, and
there are street cars and telephones.
The name of Lopez brings forward one of the most dreadful periods of
history in this part of South America, upon which we may well pause a
space.
Francisco Solano Lopez, dictator of Paraguay, and self-styled
"Protector of the equilibrium of the La Plata," forced his country into
war against Brazil, Uruguay and Argentina, who, aggrieved, combined for
the purpose of suppressing him, "until no elements of war should be
left in Paraguay," as their declaration ran. The country was invaded,
the war lasted five years, 1865 to 1870; a struggle involving enormous
sacrifice of blood and treasure, closing only when the Paraguayans were
practically annihilated. During the struggle every male Paraguayan
was forced to bear arms; there were regiments of boys from twelve
to fifteen years old; women were used as beasts of burden to carry
ammunition and stores, and were murdered or left to die by the wayside
when their strength gave out. From a population of nearly one and a
half million, that of Paraguay fell as a consequence of the struggle
to a quarter of a million. It is recorded that, in the retreat, Lopez
ordered every town and village to be destroyed and every living animal
slaughtered. Imagining a conspiracy against his life, this half-crazed
dictator, it is recorded, ordered hundreds of the foremost citizens
of Paraguay to be seized and executed, including his own brother and
brothers-in-law, judges, cabinet ministers, officers, bishops, two
hundred foreigners and several diplomatic representatives of the
legations. The end of this extraordinary specimen of a Spanish American
ruler was death in the river, for, having been reduced to a handful of
adherents, on the northern frontier of Paraguay, he was surprised by
Brazilians, and shot, as he endeavoured to swim the stream.
Leaving these dreadful reminiscences of civilized savagery, however,
let us take our way through the Republic. Much of it is extremely
fertile; rich soil abounding in meadows and pastures, with such varied
products as might make of this portion of the continent a veritable
garden or orchard. Our eyes rest on groves of orange-trees, clustering
with golden fruit, on fields of waving sugar-cane of immense growth,
on vineyards and tobacco fields, on cotton and hemp plantations. So
prolific are the citrus fruits that hogs are sometimes fattened on
oranges. Millions of dozens of the fruit are exported down the river to
the large towns on its banks.
The principal product, however, is the well-known _yerba maté_,
or Paraguayan tea, and the growing and collecting of this gives
occupation to the Indian peasants whom we see clustered in the fields
or simple villages. The cost of production of this article is small,
and, exported to Argentina, Brazil and Chile, the leaf takes the place
to some extent in those communities of tea and coffee. The leaves of
the shrub, the _Ilèx Paraguayensis_, are stripped, sun-dried and packed
in sacks for export.
This tea could be sold in England at perhaps sixpence per pound, but,
notwithstanding its useful qualities, it is almost unknown in Britain.
Paraguay is a land where soil and climate lends itself well to
stock-raising, and doubtless this industry in the future will be much
more extensively cultivated in the Republic, in view of the world's
needs for the products it yields. Natural pasture is abundant, shelter
is unnecessary, but drought at times is a source of loss. The breed of
the cattle, too, calls for improvement. The great South American meat
and meat-extract companies have already cast eyes on the possibilities
of the Paraguayan pastures.
[Illustration: BRINGING HOME AND PACKING YERBA MATE.
Vol. II. To face p. 220.]
If we are students of social science, we may recollect that this
land we are momentarily treading was the scene of an interesting
experiment in communism, when, some twenty-five years ago, William
Lane and his companions, of Sydney, founded their colony of "New
Australia." This little band of Australians, who at least had the
courage of their convictions, suffered endless misfortunes in their
endeavour to demonstrate their economic theories, in which there
was to be neither master nor servant, nor rich nor poor, but each for
all. Before starting, their individual possessions were made over to
the common fund. The Government of Paraguay treated the enterprise
exceedingly well, granted them a tract of extremely fertile land,
which, however, was in a remote spot, and helped them in various ways,
believing, as did the band of Australians, that success would attend
their endeavours. But at length disillusionment arose, and although
the leader and a few of his adherents struggled bravely on, disaster
befel the settlement, which lapsed finally into purely individualistic
methods.
A far earlier "socialistic" system flourished in this part of South
America. The story of the Jesuit missions is one of great interest, but
with a sad ending, and we may cast a glance at it here.
"It was in 1588 that the first Jesuits arrived in Paraguay, where
they met with a warm welcome at the hands of the colonists, between
whom and the missionary Fathers a bitter feud was eventually destined
to spring up. These early workers made a cosmopolitan company,
counting among their number Spaniards, Portuguese, Italians and
Scots, besides other nationalities. Setting dauntlessly out into the
forests of Paraguay, they passed from tribe to tribe, making converts
of the Indians in a fashion sufficiently wholesale to receive some
condemnation at the hands of their detractors. However much or
however little the average Guaraní may have understood of his actual
reception into the Christian faith, the perils and hardships of the
early missionaries remained the same, and these were undoubtedly
sufficient to tax the resolution of any but the most single-hearted
pioneer.
"Little by little, as more Jesuits arrived from abroad to assist in
the work, and as the numbers of the Guaraní converts grew, began
the definite foundations of that society of the Paraguayan missions
which was feared and hated by those Spaniards outside its borders
who imagined, rightly or wrongly, that its presence was the cause of
much material wrong to themselves. This country of the Jesuits had
every right to be known as a State. It administered its own laws and
authority, and was subject to none of the local colonial officials,
a circumstance that undoubtedly gave rise to numerous outbursts of
jealousy. It was, moreover, rigidly shut off from the outer world,
and, although travellers were permitted to pass, closely watched,
from one of its towns to another, none but the Jesuit administrators
were in the least conversant with the affairs of the community, and
with the events which were happening in the State. It is this latter
circumstance, of course, which has been responsible for so many of
the disputes concerning actual facts--arguments which have arisen
both during the period of the Jesuit dominion and after the expulsion
of the Fathers. But in any case no dispute has ever arisen concerning
the fact that this land of the Jesuits was a self-governing State,
whether it be known by any of the various names which have been
applied to it--a republic, an empire, or a socialistic community pure
and simple.
"The mission country of the Jesuits was situated amid those
delightful tracts of land where the modern Republics of Paraguay,
Brazil and Uruguay now meet. From north to south it lay, roughly,
between the parallels of 25° and 30°, and thus it comprised a stretch
of territory the open spaces of which may rightfully be called 'the
Garden of South America.' We may now survey this spot in the height
of its prosperity, beginning with some aspects of its thirty towns,
which, of course, include some of the most salient features of all.
"The Jesuits of Paraguay were nothing if not consistent, and their
policy was eloquently shown in the construction of their towns. None
of their converts, decreed the missionaries, should be permitted to
outdo his, or her, neighbourhood in the matter of dress and outward
appearance. The priests did their best to ensure equality and the
absence of heartburning by a regulation that every Indian should
be garbed exactly the same, both in material and cut, as were his
brethren and sisters. This same theory was made to apply in the
case of the dwelling-places of the Guaranís. It has been remarked
that these resembled each other as closely as one drop of water
resembles another. 'The arrangement of these,' says Alvear, who
wrote from personal experience, 'is so uniform that when you have
seen one you may say that you have seen them all. Some tiny freak
of architecture or some little touch of private adornment--that is
the only difference that may be remarked. Essentially they are all
the same, and this has been brought to such a pitch that those who
travel through them are apt to begin to wonder if they are not being
accompanied by the same enchanted town, the eyes of a lynx being
needed to tell the difference between the inhabitants and clothes
of one of these places and those of another. The plan of them all
is rectangular, the streets stretching from north to south and from
east to west, and the Plaza, which is always roomy and level, in the
middle. The church, college and cemetery occupy that side of the
Plaza that faces north.'
"This description affords, at all events, a rough and general outline
of one of the Jesuit towns. It leaves, however, many details of
interest to be filled in. The aspect of one of these places, it may
be said, was extremely pleasant, the Jesuits who understood these
matters very thoroughly, having introduced orange-groves and other
such growths with consummate skill among the buildings. The church
would be a most solidly built edifice, containing three or five
naves, as the case might be. Its interior, moreover, was richly
decorated by the Indian craftsmen and workers in metal, and here,
one imagines, some distinguishing originality must have occurred,
although no doubt this was avoided as much as possible.
"Attached to the college, which was usually a very large building,
were the workshops and storehouses of the town, which were thus
under the immediate eye of the Fathers. The buildings in which
the Indians themselves were accommodated were very extensive but
low-roofed structures, being some sixty yards in length and ten in
breadth. The majority of the buildings were contrived of great blocks
of the locally found _Tacurú_ stone, which for the purpose of cutting
possesses the very unusual advantage of being comparatively soft
when first taken from the earth, hardening little by little as it is
exposed to the air. The magnificent woods of the neighbouring forests
were frequently employed in addition, and the ubiquitous _adobe_ was
made to serve here and there. All the buildings were very solidly
tiled.
"So much for the general description of one of those Jesuit towns
of which only the ruins now remain, all but swallowed up by the
encroaching verdure of the forest. In their neighbourhood was nearly
always a stone-lined spring, welling out into a pool planted about
with palms, and thus presenting a most agreeable appearance. Near
this would be the chapels of the 'Stations of the Cross.'
"Finally, it must be said that many of these centres which were most
exposed to the raids of the hostile Brazilian inhabitants of San
Paolo were strongly fortified, being surrounded by a deep ditch and a
solid wall of hardened mud.
"Each of these towns was in charge of two Jesuits, not too large
a number, it must be admitted, to have control of a town the
population of which was probably about four thousand. These,
however, were assisted by numerous Guaraní officials, and their
management appears to have been conducted with exemplary smoothness.
"Having now obtained a glimpse of the plan and aspects of a Jesuit
mission town, it is time to consider some attributes that are at
least as important--its inhabitants. Proceeding downwards along its
hierarchy from the two Jesuit Fathers in charge--who were responsible
only to a superior of their own order who travelled continually to
and fro between the various towns--we arrive at the higher Guaraní
officials. At the head of these was a _cacique_, who in a sense
acted as Governor of the place, although his office was under the
closest supervision of the two Jesuits in charge. There were also
_corregidores_, _regidores_, _alcaldes_, and many other officials,
whose posts corresponded more or less with those held by Spaniards in
the somewhat cumbrous municipal scheme that obtained in the peninsula.
"In order that the position of these dusky dignitaries should be
properly emphasized they were raised above the law which decreed
perfect equality of dress for all, and on feast days their uniforms
were wont to be sufficiently gorgeous to distinguish them from the
rest.
"The dress of the rank and file of the inhabitants was simple to a
degree. The material employed for that of both men and women was
white cotton. The men wore a species of shirt above short breeches,
while the women were dressed in petticoats, above which was an
armless chemise known as the _typoi_. The hair was plaited into
one or two tails, and was generally adorned with a crimson flower.
To such a degree had this doctrine of similarity of costume become
implanted into the minds of the Indians that, after the expulsion of
the Jesuits, those who succeeded the missionaries--and endeavoured in
vain to carry on the work--were astonished at the tenacity with which
they clung to it. Desirous of rooting out entirely the influence
of the Jesuits, they assiduously pointed out to the Indians the
advantages of individuality in dress. But it was a very long time
before one of these could bring himself to distinguish his person
from the rest by means of any of those added touches which are
usually so eagerly sought after by the dusky races.
"The supposition that Satan finds work for idle hands to do was
acknowledged by the Jesuits with an enthusiasm on which was founded
the principal tenets of their communities. In the mission towns
any risk of this kind was quite infinitesimal! Indeed, one of the
charges levelled by the opponents of the missionaries has been to
the effect that they harnessed the Guaranís from the age of five
years upwards to an endless and grinding routine of toil. Indeed, in
estimating the benefits derived by the company of the Jesuits from
this fount of labour, a very gifted modern Argentine writer estimates
the eighteenth-century Guaraní population of the Paraguayan missions
at some 150,000, adding that, so healthy was the climate of their
country that almost the entire force of this community was available,
invalids being almost unknown. In this he unconsciously pays a
notable tribute to the methods employed in the 'Reductions'--by which
name these mission towns were also known. For this remarkable lack
of invalids may well be compatible with the circumstances attending
ordinary hard work, but they suggest nothing of that grinding toil
such as the _conquistadores_ were only too frequently accustomed
to inflict on the aborigines--labour involving broken health and
premature death.
"The admittedly healthy condition of the Jesuitical Guaranís is in
itself sufficient to refute such a charge as this.
"The various kinds of work carried on in the mission towns were of
an amazingly comprehensive nature. Even their most hostile critics
have never attempted to dispute the administrative abilities of the
missionaries. These found a full opportunity in the fertile soil and
varied products of the country. One of the first industries they
took up was that of collecting the famous Paraguayan tea, the yerba
maté, from the forests in which it grew. Undoubtedly this was one of
the severest tasks which the Guaranís had to undertake, since the
yerba-tree, the _Ilèx Paraguayensis_, favours the denser forests that
are the haunt of the jaguar, the venomous snake and countless noxious
insects. Moreover, as the yerba maté-trees in the neighbourhood of
the settlements became used up, the journeys of the Indians grew
longer and more difficult, and the return marches, under the burden
of the yerba loads, still more strenuous.
"Another industry which rapidly attained to great importance was that
of cattle-breeding. It is difficult to picture the Jesuit Fathers
galloping with flying robes after the scampering herds of cattle,
gathering them into _rodeos_, and 'parting' them after the fashion of
the gaucho--and this they undoubtedly did not do! At the same time,
it is certain that they must have closely supervised their dusky
herdsmen; for the numbers of their cattle rapidly increased to an
extent which could only have been possible under an efficient, and
comparatively scientific, management. This will be evident when it is
explained that more than thirty thousand head of cattle grazed on one
of their estates alone, and that at the time of the expulsion of the
company their pastures were found to contain nearly 800,000 cattle,
nearly 100,000 horses and mules, and over 200,000 sheep and goats.
"Beyond this there were the fields of cotton, maize, rice,
sugar-cane, tobacco, and all those cereals which went to make up
the store of the mission towns, as well as the spreading groves of
orange-trees, and all the fruits of the sub-tropics and of Southern
Europe which were cultivated with immense success in the rich red
soil of Paraguay. It is a tribute to the energy of the Jesuits,
moreover, that sufficient wheat was grown within the missions to
render them self-supporting in this respect, when the small amount of
wheat is taken into consideration that is at present produced within
the Republic of Paraguay.
"It was in these pastoral and agricultural pursuits that the main
supply of Guaraní labour was employed. The Jesuits saw to it that
the tasks of the Indians were made as attractive as possible. Thus
they would march to the fields singing chants and preceded by a small
band of instruments, and they would return in the same impressive
fashion when the labours of the day were done. In all such ways as
this the work of the Indians was lightened, and undoubtedly the
policy possessed its practical side in that far more satisfactory
agricultural results were obtained from these contented people than
would have been the case had they been dejected and apathetic.
"The scope of the mission work, however, was by no means confined to
the pastoral and agricultural pursuits. The community was entirely
self-supporting, and it was thus necessary to quarry the stone of
which the town buildings were constructed, to build the small vessels
in which much of the produce was sent to be sold in the large cities
lower down the river, and even to found the cannons and to produce
the gunpowder which were necessary in order to defend the settlements
from the slave-raiding attacks of those arch-enemies of the missions,
the _Mamelucos_, who came out with fire and sword from the Brazilian
town of San Paolo.
"But, when the disposition and attainments of the original Guaraní
tribe are taken into consideration, some of the most remarkable
achievements of the missionaries were in connection with the finer
arts and crafts rather than with the cruder labours of the main
industries. It is true that at the head of each of these branches was
a Jesuit who was a complete master of his particular art or craft.
But this alone does not suffice to explain the astonishing progress
made in these directions by a race that a generation or two before
had represented one of the most primitive types of Indian in the
world--naked savages without the faculty of hieroglyphics, unable to
count beyond the few first numbers, ignorant of the very rudiments of
music, and lacking sufficient imagination to provide themselves even
with a reasonable supply of that superstition which stands for the
religion of the savage.
"Yet it was from these very folk that were produced craftsmen of
a really able type. It was they who, under the coaching of the
missionaries, learned to become carpenters, to carve stone with
professional cunning, and who became expert locksmiths, gunsmiths
and workers in metals. There were many weavers and printers, and
among them were a certain number who had actually attained to the
expert art of watchmaking. Among the most astonishing walks of life,
however, to which the Guaraní was transported was that of painter--in
the artistic sense of the vocation. Hand in hand with this art went
that of music. Indeed, one of the proofs of how thoroughly these
matters were undertaken lies in the fact of the bringing over from
Europe with a view to teaching the Guaranís music and singing, of
Padre Juan Basco, who had previously been at the head of an archducal
institution of music.
"A school and a hospital were attached to each Reduction, and each
of these, in addition, was provided with an asylum for the aged and
infirm. Even here a certain amount of work was carried on, and the
inmates of this institution were given such light tasks as they could
perform."[39]
* * * * *
This colonization system was broken up by the _Mamelucos_, the greedy
folk of San Paolo, who, having enslaved the Indians of that part of
Brazil, cast envious eyes upon the peaceful labour of the missions,
which they longed to impress in their own services. They therefore
began a series of merciless onslaughts on the settlements, which,
however, valiantly defended themselves for a time. But the Arcadia
was doomed to fall, and the Jesuits were expelled from Paraguay in
1768, and little remains now but the ruin of their wonderful work,
which Nature rapidly covered up with her generous robes of flower and
foliage, as if desirous of hiding from view the brutalities of mankind
in this one of her fairest provinces of South America.
We shall now leave this fertile heart of the continent, to traverse
with rapid strides a region of a very different nature: that of the
"Far South"--a south, however, whose attributes of climate and general
environment are not such as we generally associate with that point of
the compass, and of which we have obtained a passing glimpse in our
survey of the great Cordillera.
In the southern-most part of the New World, the tapering portion of the
South American continent, lies a vast region of which comparatively
little is heard or known, yet one which in the future must take its
place in the economic development of the globe. This is the Territory
extending throughout the lower portion of Argentina, Patagonia and
Tierra del Fuego.
It is a land lying far beyond the Tropics, in part a sort of Siberia of
South America, terminating in those regions which Magellan described as
"stark with eternal cold."
We generally speak of Argentina and Chile as if they were compact
topographical and political entities, instead of territories between
two and three thousand miles long, covering zones on the surface of the
globe comparable, as far as latitude is concerned, to one extending
from nigh mid-Africa, through Europe into Scotland, with climate
similarly varying.
But this southern land has great possibilities. It has received a bad
name, largely resulting upon the description of Darwin, who visited
it in the voyage of the _Beagle_, a reputation which more recent
travellers have shown not to be deserved. Darwin spoke of the "curse of
sterility" and of the eternally "dreary landscape," but, like Siberia,
Patagonia may prove to be a region desirable in many respects.
Yet Patagonia strikes the traveller as huge and elemental, and
settlement and development, as far as they go, are but the work of the
few recent years. It offers great and abrupt contrasts of pampa and
mountain, with rivers cutting across the plains from the Andes to the
Atlantic.
"On the Atlantic coastline it is four or five days' ride to the
nearest farm. In the interior Nature enfolds you with her large,
loose grasp. Who, having once seen them, can forget the Pampas?
Evening, and the sun sloping over the edge of the plain like an
angry eye, an inky-blue mirage half blotting it out; in the middle
distance grass rolling like an ocean to the horizon, lean thorn, and
a mighty roaring wind. This wild land, ribbed and spined by one of
the greatest mountain chains in the world, appears to have been the
last habitation of the great beasts of the older ages. It is now the
last country of all to receive man, or rather its due share of human
population. Out there in the heart of the country one seems to stand
alone, with nothing nearer or more palpable than the wind, the fierce
mirages, and the limitless distances."[40]
However, farms and cattle ranges are springing up, and Nature has
placed in one spot on the coast an important petroleum field, to say
nothing of the valuable forests.
This far southern region of South America is shared by the British
Empire, in its distant outpost of the Falkland Isles, forming its most
southerly colony. The latitude here in the south corresponds roughly
to that of England in the north, but climate is very different, with a
constantly overcast and rainy sky, although the extremes of heat and
cold are far less. The treeless, grass-covered lands maintain large
numbers of sheep. The little capital of Stanley is mainly built of
wood, with a Government House of grey stone, calling to mind an Orkney
or Shetland manse. There is nothing of Spanish American atmosphere
here. Far from the mainland, the only association with the continent of
South America of the Falkland Isles is that they are the headquarters
of the bishop of that diocese, which, as we have seen elsewhere, covers
so wide a field in Spanish America, and perhaps the fact that Argentina
still regards the possession of these somewhat melancholy and remote
sea-girt isles by Britain with disapproval; claiming them as hers. The
name is immortal in the destruction of the German fleet in those waters
during the Great War.
FOOTNOTES:
[37] Pronounced, phonetically, "Who-Who-e," with the accent on the last
syllable.
[38] _Paraguay_, Koebel, South American Series.
[39] _Paraguay_, op. cit.
[40] _Patagonia_, Hesketh Prichard, London 1911.