Port of Santos.--Yellow Fever Scourge.--Down the Coast to
Montevideo.--The Cathedral.--Pamperos.--Domestic
Architecture.--A Grand Thoroughfare.--City
Institutions.--Commercial Advantages.--The Opera House.--The
Bull-Fight.--Beggars on Horseback.--City Shops.--A Typical
Character.--Intoxication.--The Campo
Santo.--Exports.--Rivers and Railways.
Santos is the name of a commercially important harbor situated on the
east coast of South America about three hundred miles southwest of Rio
Janeiro, after which city it is the greatest export harbor for coffee in
Brazil. Otherwise it is about as uninteresting a spot as can be found on
the continent. It became a city so late as 1839, and contains some
twenty thousand inhabitants. Its annual export of coffee will reach an
aggregate of two hundred and twenty-five thousand sacks. The bay is
surrounded by a succession of hills, and is well sheltered, except on
the southwest. The town is situated on the west side of the harbor, and
hugs the shore, many of the houses being built upon piles. Behind the
town to the westward rises a succession of mountain ranges. The
immediately surrounding country is low and malarial, causing fevers to
prevail all the year round. During the present season Santos has
suffered more seriously from yellow fever than any other place on the
coast in proportion to the number of its inhabitants. As a commercial
port it has no rival in southern Brazil. Santa Catharina, Porto Alegre,
and Rio Grande, the three harbors south of Santos, are rendered
inaccessible for any but small craft, owing to sandbars at their
entrances.
This is the present terminus of the United States and Brazil Mail
steamship route from New York, and notwithstanding its many drawbacks in
point of sanitary conditions, is yet growing rapidly in commercial
importance. Its wretchedly unhealthy condition causes one to hasten away
to the more elevated country, where St. Paul is situated, and where the
traveler runs little or no risk of contracting yellow fever or malarial
affections of any sort.
Santos is the port for St. Paul, with which it is connected by rail, and
from which it is separated by about forty miles.
This capital of the state of Sao Paulo, St. Paul, contains some ninety
thousand inhabitants. The province is credited with a million and a
half. The city lies just under the tropic of Capricorn, southwest of
Rio, about two thousand feet above the level of the sea, upon a high
ridge, covering an elevated plateau of undulating hills. It enjoys the
sunshine of the tropics, modified by the freshness of the temperate
zone. It is venerable in years, having been founded in 1554, but it
seems to have taken a fresh start of late, as its population has doubled
in the last decade. As intimated, it is entirely free from yellow fever,
which is so fatal at Santos, and has excellent drinking water, together
with good drainage and well paved streets. The city contains some fine
public buildings, and has many handsome adornments, being largely
peopled by North Americans and English; the former prevail in numbers
and influence, indeed, it has been called the American city of Brazil.
There is also a large Italian colony settled here. St. Paul has a good
system of tramways, several Protestant churches, and a number of
educational and charitable public institutions, together with many of
the attractions of a much larger capital. Among the popular amusements,
the theatre of San Jose is justly esteemed, and is a well-appointed
establishment in all of its belongings. There are two spacious public
gardens, embellished with grottoes, fountains, choice trees, and
flowers, while the private gardens attached to the dwellings are
numerous and tasteful.
In the district round about the city venomous serpents are frequently
met with, whose bite is as dangerous as that of the rattlesnakes of our
northern climate. As the land is cleared and cultivated, they naturally
and rapidly disappear. These reptiles fear man, and avoid his vicinity
quite as earnestly as human beings avoid them. It is only when they are
molested, trodden upon, or cornered, as it were, that they attack any
one.
The city is connected with Rio Janeiro by a railway, and two other
railroads run from it far inland. The Rio and St. Paul railway is fairly
equipped, but the roadbed is not properly ballasted, and consequently
one rides over the route in a cloud of dust, while suffering from the
oscillations and jolting of the cars. This railway, however, is one of
the most successful and profitable in the republic. It is some three
hundred miles in length, and passes through a dozen or more tunnels, one
of which is a mile and a half in length. This tunnel required seven
years' labor before it was passable. There is just now a great "boom" of
land values in and about St. Paul. It is towards this state that the
tide of Italian emigration is largely directed, for some reason which we
do not comprehend, but it is probably stimulated by a combined effort to
this effect.
The passage southward from Rio Janeiro or Santos to Montevideo occupies
about five days, but a large amount of rough ocean experience is
generally crowded into that brief period, added to which the coasting
steamers are far from affording the ordinary comforts so desirable at
sea. Of the food supplied to passengers one does not feel inclined to
complain, because a person embarking upon these lines does so knowing
what to expect; but as regards the domestic conveniences and cleanliness
generally, there is no excuse for their defective character. We are
sorry to say that the class of Portuguese and Spaniards one encounters
on these coasting vessels is far from decently cleanly in daily habits,
carelessly adding to the unsanitary conditions.
The wind in these latitudes is not only inclined to be fierce, but it
usually goes entirely round the compass at least once or twice during
the voyage, and is more than liable to wind up, off the mouth of the
river Plate, with a regular and furious pampero. This is a hurricane
wind, which is born in the gorges of the Andes, and thence pursuing its
course over nearly a thousand miles of level pampas, gains speed and
power with every league of progress. The season in which these
hurricanes--for in their fury they deserve to be thus
designated--prevail, is from March to September, but they are liable to
come at any time. The wind is considered by the people of Montevideo to
be wholesome and invigorating, as far as the land is concerned, but
seamen dread it on shipboard, and call it a Plate River hurricane. We
know of no more disagreeable roadstead than that of Montevideo, when a
pampero is blowing. We have seen ships under these circumstances, with
two anchors down, obliged to resort to the use of oil on the sea, to
prevent themselves from being swamped. Though the inhabitants represent
a pampero to be comparatively harmless on the land, yet it does
sometimes commit fearful havoc there also, especially among the
unprotected herds of wild cattle on the plains, and upon all trees or
plantations which lie in its devastating course. It is true that it
brings with it a bracing and life-giving atmosphere from the snow-capped
Andes far away, and if it could only do so with less forceful
demonstration, it would be a welcome visitor in the heated days of these
regions.
The most direct way to illustrate what these South American pampas are
is to compare them to the vast prairies of our Western and Southwestern
States. Any one familiar with those far-reaching, horizon-bounded plains
knows what the pampas of the Argentine Republic are like. Beginning near
the foothills of the Cordilleras, in their very shadow, as it were,
these smoothed out, level lands extend hundreds of miles eastward to the
great estuary of the Plate River, on the borders of the Atlantic Ocean.
Though apparently sterile, the soil of the pampas, like the dry, baked
land of Australia, only requires irrigation and cultivation to rival the
most attractive valleys of Southern Europe. It is believed by scientists
that these plains were once covered by a broad inland sea, connected
directly with the Atlantic. In their present condition these pampas can
hardly be called barren, since they give excellent grazing for extensive
herds of wild cattle, which thrive and fatten upon the abundance of
coarse, natural grass, similar to what is known as bunch grass in Texas
and New Mexico. This product ripens and makes itself into standing hay,
retaining its natural vitality and nutritious qualities throughout
months of atmospheric exposure. After being close-cropped by the roving
herds of cattle, the bunch grass renews itself, reproducing in great
abundance.
Montevideo, the capital of Uruguay, is situated on the remarkable
estuary of the Plate River,--Rio de la Plata, or "Silver River,"--whose
spacious mouth is marked by two capes, Santa Maria and San Antonio, more
than one hundred miles apart. Only a nautical observation will show just
where the line of ocean ceases and that of the estuary begins. The
unobservant passenger believes himself still sailing upon the broad
ocean until he finally sights the land on which the city stands. The
flag of Uruguay flying from various crafts--blue and white, in alternate
stripes, with a glowing sun in the upper corner near the
staff--indicates the near approach to the land it represents.
On the island of Flores, fifteen miles from Montevideo, there are a
lighthouse and quarantine station. The island is formed by a rocky
upheaval, not over twenty feet above sea level, measuring about a mile
in length and two or three hundred yards in width. The fierce pamperos
render the navigation of this estuary oftentimes precarious. When
approaching the broad river's mouth from the north, sailors know that it
is near at hand, long before land is seen, by the color of the water,
which comes forth in such immense volume as to impart a distinct yellow
hue to the ocean for a long distance from the coast. This effect is said
to be discernible one hundred miles off the shore, but thirty or forty
miles will perhaps be nearer the truth, and is at the same time a
statement answering all legitimate purposes. The tide about the estuary
is mostly governed by the wind, and so up the river, showing no
regularity in its rise and fall. The current of the Plate opposite
Montevideo runs at the rate of about three miles an hour. In extent,
this ranks as the third great river of the world, draining, with its
affluents, eight hundred thousand square miles of territory; a mammoth
basin, which is only exceeded by those of the Amazon and the
Mississippi.
The commercial activity of the port is shown by the arrival and
departure daily of many large steamships, foreign and coastwise. Sixty
European steamers are recorded as arriving here monthly, besides a
number from the United States. The maritime business of the port is
mostly in the hands of Englishmen, Americans, and Frenchmen. The
native-born citizen evinces no genius in commercial matters. The
department of the capital is the smallest in the republic, having an
area of only twenty-five square miles, but it is fertile, well wooded
and watered, its agricultural interests predominating, which is a most
important fact in estimating the stability and pecuniary responsibility
of any state.
The city is exceptionably well situated on a small rocky promontory, or
rather we should designate it as a peninsula, jutting out into the
estuary, three of its sides fronting the sea, and as its streets are
nearly always swept by ocean breezes, it is cool and pleasant even in
midsummer. The land rises gradually as it recedes from the shore, and
then declines to the bed of a small stream which empties into the bay,
thus affording a natural surface drainage. Uruguay is a little more than
twelve times as large territorially as the State of Massachusetts, and
is divided into thirteen departments. There are over half a million
acres of land under good cultivation in the republic, the principal
staples being wheat and corn. Extreme heat and extreme cold are alike
unknown, the country being within the temperate zone. The mean summer
temperature is 71 deg. Fahr., that of autumn 62 deg., and of spring 60 deg.. There
are, therefore, but few things which the climate is too hot or too cold
to produce, while for the raising of cattle on a large scale it is said
to be the best section of South America, and this forms, we believe, its
largest industry.
In approaching Montevideo from the sea, it is observed that the
surrounding country is quite level, with scarcely a single object to
break the distant view. Immediately upon landing one realizes that the
city is clean and well built, though it is mostly made up of low
structures one story in height. There are plenty of dwellings of two and
three stories, however, in the more modern part of the town. Dominating
the whole stand the lofty dome and towers of the cathedral, which faces
the Plaza Constitution. The turrets are of striking proportions, each
rising to the height of one hundred and thirty-three feet. The
widespread dome would be grand in effect, were it not covered with
glazed tiles of various colors, blue, green, yellow, and so on, the
combined effect of which is anything but pleasing to a critical eye.
Still, it is no more tawdry than much of the inside finish and
meaningless ornamentation. There is an elaborate marble fountain in the
centre of the plaza, besides some ornamental shrubbery and flowers. The
very fine marble facade of the building occupied by the Uruguay Club
adds to the beauty of the plaza. Near the fountain is a fanciful music
stand, in which a military band is occasionally stationed to perform for
the public pleasure. These South Americans would as soon give up the
bull-fights as the popular outdoor evening concerts, the excellent moral
effect of which no one can possibly doubt.
An abrupt hill at the head of the harbor, four or five hundred feet in
height, known as the "Monte," gives the city its name, Montevideo. This
hill is crowned by a small fort and lighthouse, the latter containing a
revolving light which can be seen a long distance at sea. A couple of
miles inland rises another hill called the Cerrito, or "little hill."
Several times during revolutionary struggles, these two hills have been
fortified by opposing parties, who have desired to control the city, but
restless revolutionists are now at a discount, fortunately, in this
republic of Uruguay, a class of uneasy spirits who have reigned quite
long enough on the southern continent.
The town is built in the form of an amphitheatre, and has comparatively
few edifices of importance. Its regular, straight streets and open
squares are intensely Spanish. The Paseo del Molino is the fashionable
part of the town, where the wealthy merchants reside in curious chalets,
or _quintas_ as they are called here. There is rather an extraordinary
taste displayed in the matter of buildings on this Paseo. Swiss
cottages, Italian villas, Chinese dwellings, and Gothic structures are
mingled with Spanish and Moorish styles. This architectural incongruity
is not picturesque, but, on the contrary, strikes one as very crude and
ill-chosen. The charm of domestic residences in any part of the globe is
a certain adaptability to the natural surroundings, and is, when well
conceived, a graceful part of the whole. Inappropriate structures are to
the eye like false notes in music to the ear, an outrage upon harmony. A
Swiss chalet in Hindostan, or a Japanese bamboo house in England, is
simply discordancy in scenic consistency. Nature should always be a
silent partner in the creation and adaptation of architectural designs.
In olden times the Jesuits built a large mill near this spot, and hence
the name of the place.
The climate must be very equable and fine to admit of such fruit culture
as exists here. The strawberries grown in the neighborhood are famous
for their size and sweetness, the vines producing this favorite fruit
all the year round. They are perhaps a little over-developed, and would
doubtless be of finer flavor if they were smaller.
The Plaza de la Independencia is highly attractive, and so is the broad,
tree-lined avenue known as the Calle del Dieziochavo de Julio, named
after the anniversary of the Uruguayan declaration of independence.
This, indeed, is thought to be the most effective boulevard in all South
America. On festal occasions it is decorated in an original and
brilliant manner, having colored draperies hanging from the windows and
balconies, bright colored cambrics stretched from point to point, with
the gay flag of the republic festooned here and there. Chinese lanterns
are hung from the trees, and arches spanning the roadway and bearing
national designs are all ablaze with ingeniously arranged gas jets. Down
one side of this long avenue and up the other, it being over a hundred
feet broad, a civic and military procession marches on the annual
recurrence of the date which its name indicates, the several divisions
headed by bands of music, with flags flying and drums beating. On such
occasions the windows and balconies are filled with groups of handsome
women, in gala dresses, together with pretty children in holiday
costumes, who add charm and completeness to the scene. This avenue is
the Champs Elysees of the southern continent, a thoroughfare of which
the residents are justly very proud.
The streets and sidewalks generally are of better width in Montevideo
than in most of the South American cities. Some few of the private
residences display fine architectural taste, the dwellings being well
adapted to the climate and the surroundings. Many of the city houses
have little towers erected on their roofs, called _miradores_, from
whence one gets an excellent view of the entire city and of the sea. The
town is spread over a large territory, and stretches away into thinly
populated suburbs, but all parts are rendered accessible by the
well-perfected system of tramways which extend over fifty miles within
the city and the immediate environs. In the absence of official figures,
we should judge that Montevideo had a population of at least two hundred
thousand. Every other nationality seems to be represented in its streets
and warehouses, except that of Uruguay herself. Those "native and to the
manner born" are conspicuous by their absence. Speaking of this rather
curious characteristic to a friend who lives here, he replied: "There
are probably fifty thousand European and North American residents doing
business in this city, forming by far the most active element of the
place. They are seen everywhere, to the apparent exclusion of the
natives. Indigenous blood and energy could not have made this capital
what it is at the present time. It is reaping the advantage of North
American enterprise, English and American capital, and German
shrewdness. These, combined with the natural advantages of the location
and climate, will eventually make Montevideo the Liverpool of South
America." Though all this goes without saying, our friend put it so
aptly that his words were deemed worthy of recording. We do not hesitate
to predict that the next decade will nearly double the number of the
population here, as well as the aggregate of its imports and exports. No
other city on the southern continent has greater advantages in its
geographical position, or as regards salubrity of climate and
adaptability to commerce. Were it not for the occasional visits of the
howling pamperos, the climate would be nearly perfect, and even these
exhibitions of a local nature are, as we have said, accepted with great
equanimity by the people on land. There are few stoves, and no
fireplaces or chimneys, in Montevideo. Cooking is done with charcoal on
braziers out-of-doors, as is the custom in most tropical countries.
The capital of Uruguay contains the usual educational and religious,
charitable and scientific, public organizations, with appropriate
edifices for the same. It should certainly be considered a reading
community, having more daily newspapers than London, and double as many
as the city of New York; also supporting a large number of weekly
newspapers and monthly magazines. As to books, so far as a casual
observer may speak, they are few and far between in family circles. The
men read the newspapers, and the women fill up their leisure time with
music and gossip. There is a national university in Montevideo, where
over six hundred pupils are regularly taught at the present time, and
there are forty-eight professors attached to this admirably organized
institution. We heard it highly spoken of by those who should be good
judges in educational matters. The custom house, with which the stranger
always makes an early acquaintance after arriving in port, is a large
and costly structure, three stories in height. The opera house is worthy
of particular mention, being a spacious building of the Doric order,
capable of seating three thousand persons, and when it is filled at
night, the interior presents a grand array of elegant costumes and
female beauty, the ladies of this city being noted for their personal
charms. This is a circumstance not mentioned casually as a mere
compliment, but simply as a fact. The opera house covers an entire
square, and has two large wings attached to the main building, one of
which is devoted to business purposes, and the other contains the
National Museum. There is here the nucleus of a most valuable
collection, to which constant additions are being made, both by the
state and through personal liberality and interest. We are sorry to say
in this connection that the bull-fight, as a public exhibition, above
all other styles of amusement, is the favorite one with the rank and
file of the populace, which is quite sufficiently Spanish to control the
matter and insure its permanency. The bull-ring, wherein these brutal
and terribly demoralizing exhibitions take place on each Sabbath
afternoon during the season, is situated about a league from the city
proper.
It must be a country or district under Roman Catholic influence, and
with more or less of a Spanish element permeating it, to admit of this
style of desecrating the Sabbath, or, indeed, of indulging on any day of
the week in an exhibition which is so thoroughly brutal, cowardly, and
repulsive. It is a sad reflection upon the community, high and low, to
state that the bull-fight is one of its popular entertainments. We have
said that this is a cowardly game. The fact is, the bull is doomed from
the moment he enters the arena. He has only his horns and his courage to
help him in the unequal contest. The professional fighters opposed to
him are all fully armed, and protected by sheltering guards, behind
which they can retire at will. It is twelve experts pitted against one
poor beast. Ingenious, heathenish modes of torture are devised and
adopted to wound, to weaken, and to craze the victim. If it was one
armed man against the bull, whether mounted or otherwise, it would be a
more equal and gallant struggle,--but twelve to one! bah, it is only a
cowardly game in which gallant horses and brave bulls are sacrificed by
a dozen armed men. Even the matadore, who gives the final and fatal
thrust with his sword, and who is looked upon as a sort of hero by the
spectators, does not enter the ring to attempt the act until the bull is
comparatively harmless, having been worried and wounded until he is
exhausted by the struggle and the copious loss of blood, so that he is
scarcely able to stand. Though reeling like a drunken man, he staggers
bravely towards his fresh and well-armed enemy, showing fight to the
last gasp.
Realize the moral effect of such cut-throat exhibitions upon youth! The
older, cruel and hardened spectators are only rendered more so, but the
young and impressionable are then and there inoculated with a love of
brutality and bloodshed, fostered by every fresh exhibition which they
witness.
The Exchange is a grand and spacious structure, admirably adapted to its
purpose, being one of the finest business edifices in South America, to
our mind infinitely superior in all respects to that of Rio, upon which
so much money has been expended in meretricious designs. The author
counted the names of some forty charitable institutions and associations
in a Montevideo directory, eight or ten of which are maintained mostly
by public endowment, such as hospitals, asylums for the poor,
orphanages, industrial schools, lunatic asylums, and so on. Near the
Plaza Ramirez there is a school of arts and trades, which at this
writing accommodates a large body of pupils, taught by competent
professors and experts. We were told that this institution was of great
practical service in the cause of education, its general aim being
similar to that of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. One was
hardly prepared to credit Montevideo with so many and well-sustained
educational purposes as she was found to be justly entitled to. The
reader will observe that we speak qualifiedly of these matters; it is
only the outward and most obvious characteristics of a city, so briefly
visited, of which one can speak correctly. It would have been gratifying
to have remained longer in this capital, to understand more clearly the
educational advantages which are offered here. In this department of
progress, Montevideo seems in advance of many larger cities.
Squads of soldiers are seen lounging about the town, dressed in a
uniform of the Zouave pattern, not very jaunty looking fellows, it must
be confessed, but perhaps "as good food for powder as a better." The
entire army of Uruguay consists of only five thousand men, of all
branches. The president has also a battalion of body-guards, consisting
of three or four hundred men, forming a very efficient as well as
ornamental organization. This organization consists of men loyal to the
administration, and beyond a doubt personally devoted to the president.
The rank and file of the army embraces all shades of color, both as to
mind and body, and is liable to become disaffected at the outbreak of
any popular upheaval, or through the influence of designing men. This
body-guard, however, being always on duty, is ready and able to turn the
scale by prompt and consistent action, in favor of the established
authorities, and thus nip rebellion in the bud. It is only after getting
thoroughly under way that revolutionary attempts become formidable. At
the inception, the strong arm promptly applied stamps out the life and
courage of the mob, and renders sedition futile. "No parleying; fire
promptly, and fire to kill; that ends the matter," said Napoleon. Blank
cartridges and vacillation stimulate a half-formed purpose into action.
One is forced to admit that beggars are rather numerous in
Montevideo,--beggars on horseback and wearing spurs. They coolly stop
their small, wiry, half-fed ponies, and with magnificent effrontery beg
of any stranger they chance to meet for a centavo, a copper coin worth
about two cents of our American money. The incongruity of beggars
mounted, while the stranger of whom they solicit alms is a pedestrian,
is somewhat obvious. It must be remembered, however, that horses are
very cheap in this country, and that nearly every one rides or drives. A
good serviceable animal can be bought in any of the South American
cities at what we should consider a mere trifle to pay for one. A
well-broken young saddle-horse will bring from twenty to twenty-five
dollars, but the owner, if one of the dudes about town, will expend five
hundred dollars upon a silver-decked saddle, bridle, and trimmings, a
Spanish peculiarity which is also observed in the city of Mexico. A pair
of well-matched carriage-horses, in good condition, can be had for
seventy-five or eighty dollars. Mares are not worked in this country,
being solely used for breeding purposes, and have no fixed price;
indeed, they are not met with in the cities. It will be seen that for a
beggar to set up business here requires some capital, but not much. De
Quincey would describe Spanish beggary as having become elevated to one
of the fine arts.
There is a class of men in Uruguay called gauchos who devote themselves
to breaking the wild horses of the pampas for domestic use. They are
more Indian than Spanish, and pass their lives mostly as herdsmen of the
vast numbers of animals which live in a semi-wild state upon the plains
of South America. These men can hardly be said to train their horses.
They only conquer them by a process of cruel discipline which thoroughly
subdues the animal. After this the poor creatures are ever on the alert
to obey their rider's will, prompted by a pressure of the powerful bit,
and a merciless thrust of the long, sharp rowels. The gaucho reminds one
of the cowboys of our Western States. He forms a very picturesque figure
when seen upon his wiry little mustang, galloping along with his yellow
poncho streaming behind him, his head covered by a broad-brimmed soft
felt hat, his long, dark hair floating upon the breeze, and his broad,
loose trousers fluttering in the wind. A lasso of braided or twisted
leather sometimes swings from one hand, while the rider skillfully
manages his horse with the other. Altogether the gaucho forms a picture
of strong vitality and vivid color. He spends a small fortune upon his
equipments, and his heavy spurs are of solid silver. He is not a hard
drinker, an occasional glass of country wine satisfies him; but he will
gamble all night long until he has lost his last penny to professional
sportsmen, who somehow know the way to win by fair means or foul.
Few strangers who visit Montevideo for the first time will be at all
prepared to see such a quantity and variety of rich jewelry in the
shops. Imported dress goods of the finest quality are also offered for
sale in these shops. The Parisian boulevards have no display windows
which contain larger or finer diamonds, sapphires, and emeralds; indeed,
this country seems to be the home of precious stones and real gems. The
silversmiths exhibit goods equally artistic and elegant. The best
products of Vienna, Paris, and London, in the fancy-goods line, are
fully represented here. Readers who have visited Genoa will recall the
fine silver filigree-work which is a specialty of that city, but some of
the manufactures of this character made here are quite equal, if they do
not excel, that of the Italian capital.
It seemed to be rather a singular and significant fact, that when a
couple of pennies will purchase a tumblerful of the national tipple
called cana, a raw liquor made from sugar-cane, and quite as strong as
brandy, still comparatively few persons are seen under its influence
upon the public streets. It is true that on all church festal occasions
the common people have a regular carousal, and get very much
intoxicated, whereupon they lose one day in repenting and two in
recuperation. It is the same all over the world. The lower, uneducated
classes, having no intellectual resort, seem imbued with the idea that
to get thoroughly tipsy is the acme of pleasure. The inevitable
punishment does not enter into the calculation at all, nor does it deter
the victim from repeated excesses. It is curious to observe the peculiar
effect which intoxicants produce upon people of different nationalities:
the Russian gets boozy on vodka, and only becomes more loving to his
species; the Mexican drinks pulque by the pint measure, and craves only
to be permitted to sleep; the French guzzle brandy and wine until they
become equally full of song and gayety; the American Indian is made
utterly crazy and reckless by drink; the Irishman finds a fight in every
glass of whiskey; and the Englishman who indulges overmuch becomes
eloquent on politics and patriotism. In South America the common people
who drink to excess are rendered pugnacious and revolutionary. The
police arrangements of Montevideo are excellent, and the streets are
safe for man or woman at any hour of the day or night, which one is
forced to admit is more than can be truthfully said of the majority of
large cities in either Europe or North America. There is no sickly
sentimentality about crime and criminals here. If a man outrages the
law, he has to suffer for it, and there is no pardoning him until he has
worked out his entire penalty. It is the certainty of punishment which
intimidates professional rascals. Official leniency and pardoning of
criminals are a premium on crime.
Between two and three miles from the city there is a public park, which
is laid out with excellent taste and skill, forming a popular pleasure
resort. There are here many fine native and exotic trees, as well as
flowering shrubs and blooming flowers. This spacious park, intersected
by a willow-lined stream, is called the Paseo, and is ornamented with
statues, fountains, and rockeries. The grounds are also occupied by
several small places devoted to amusements, shooting-galleries, billiard
saloons, and gambling tables, very similar to the Deer Garden in the
environs of Copenhagen. Citizens of Montevideo of the humbler class come
hither with their families, bringing food and drink to be disposed of in
picnic fashion. Bordering the sweep of the bay, which forms the harbor,
are many cottages, the homes of the rich merchants. These villas are
surrounded by flower gardens and graceful shrubbery, the endless spring
climate making the bloom perennial. The flat roofs of many of the town
houses are partially inclosed, so as to form a pleasant resort in the
closing hours of the day, where family parties are often seen gathered
together. Social life among the residents of the environs is very gay,
and so indeed is that of the town residents, whose hospitality is also
proverbial. The Hotel Oriental is the favorite hostelry of Montevideo,
built of marble and well furnished, though it is hardly equal to the
Hotel Victoria, its rival, architecturally speaking.
The drinking water, and all that is used for domestic purposes in the
city, is brought by a well-engineered system from the river Santa Lucia,
which is tapped for this purpose at a distance of thirty or forty miles
from Montevideo.
The Campo Santo of the capital is admirably arranged and particularly
well kept, being in several respects like those of Pisa, Genoa, and
other Italian cities. It is the most elaborate cemetery in South
America, surrounded by high walls so built as to contain five tiers of
niches which form the receptacles for the dead. The grounds are nearly
as crowded with elaborate tombs and stone monuments as Pere la Chaise,
at Paris, the funereal cypress rising here and there in stately
mournfulness above the marble slabs. The abundance of metallic wreaths
and artificial flowers afforded another resemblance to the famous French
cemetery. The freshness of many of the floral offerings showed that the
memory of the departed was kept green in the hearts of those left
behind. The traveler sees many such touching evidences of tenderness all
over the world. Much of the marble work seen in these grounds was
imported from Milan, and some from both Florence and Rome. The
monumental entrance to the grounds, and the elaborate chapel within
them, are both in good taste.
Beef, hides, wool, hair, and grain seem to be the principal articles of
export. Uruguay contains over half a million of people, and has an area
of seventy-one thousand square miles, intersected by several railways,
bringing the interior within easy reach of the capital. It is said to be
growing more rapidly in proportion to its size and the present number of
inhabitants than any other part of South America. The republic is best
known to the world by its Indian name, Uruguay, but on many maps it is
still designated as the Banda Oriental, that is, the "Eastern Border."
It will be remembered that this now independent state was originally a
part of the Argentine Republic, which was formerly known by that
designation. Though Uruguay is one of the smallest of the independent
divisions of the continent, it is yet one of the most important, a fact
owing largely to its admirable commercial location. Nearly all of its
territory can be reached by navigable rivers, while its Atlantic shore
has a dozen good harbors. Sixteen large rivers intersect the republic in
various directions, all of which have their several tributaries. Cheap
internal transportation is assured by over three hundred miles of
railways; also by these rivers. As already intimated, its agricultural
interests are largely on the increase, the strongest element of
permanency. Originally the pastoral interest prevailed over all other,
but agriculture, both here and in the Argentine Republic, has taken
precedence. The model farms near Montevideo are unsurpassed for extent,
completeness, and the liberal manner in which they are conducted. Some
large estates might be named which will compare favorably with anything
of the sort which the author has ever seen in any country, where
agriculture is followed on intelligent principles. Here the cultivation
of the soil is carried on not solely to obtain all which can be wrung
from it, in the way of pecuniary profit, but _con amore_, and with a due
regard to system. As may be supposed, the return is fully commensurate
with the intelligence and liberality exercised in the business. Such
farming may be and is called fancy farming, but it is a sort which pays
most liberally, and which affords those engaged in it the most
satisfaction.
To be an honest chronicler, one must not hesitate to look at all phases
of progress, successful or otherwise, on the part of each people and
country visited and written about. There are always deep-lying
influences acting for good or evil, which scarcely present themselves to
the thoughtless observer.
One reason for the rapid growth of this republic of Uruguay is because
of its gradually casting off the slough of Roman Catholic influence, a
species of dry rot quite sufficient to bring about the destruction of
any government. The same incubus which was of so long standing in
Mexico, where its effect kept the people in ignorance and ferment for
centuries, has at last been abolished, and modern progress naturally
follows. In Uruguay the Romish Church has lost its prestige, having
hastened its own downfall by blindly striving to enforce fifteenth
century ideas upon people of the nineteenth. Monks and nuns have been
expelled, and parish schools have been closed. Free schools now prevail,
and general knowledge is becoming broadcast, which simply means
destruction to all popish control. Intelligence is the antidote for
bigotry, which explains the bitter opposition of the Roman Catholic
priesthood to free schools wherever their faith prevails.
In all of these South American provinces it has been found difficult to
throw off the evil inheritance of sloth and anarchy which the Spaniards
imposed upon their colonial possessions. The schoolhouse is the true
temple of liberty for this people. In the department of Montevideo alone
there are to-day over sixty free schools, and in the whole republic
nearly four hundred, something for her authorities to point at with a
spirit of just pride. This enumeration does not include the private
schools, of which there are also a large number in the capital.
We find by published statistics that Uruguay exports of wool, about
seven million dollars' worth per annum; of beef, over six million
dollars' worth; of hides, four million dollars' worth; and of wheat
about the same amount in value as that of the last article named. These
staples, however, are only representative articles, to which many more
might be added, to show her growing commercial importance and assured
prosperity.
Our next stopping-place is the important city of Buenos Ayres, on the
opposite bank of the river, about one hundred and fifty miles southwest
of Montevideo.