Part 2

The landing-place, at what was once the mole, is very bad; heavy boats cannot get near. Carts are used to embark and disembark, for which there is no fixed charge; they get what they can, like our watermen at home. Those whose business leads them often afloat, find it a great tax, and some prefer riding on the backs of their sailors, to paying it. It is seldom there is water sufficient for boats to come close in, and they are at all times liable to damage, from the pieces of rock, wrecks, &c. near the shore.

Buenos Ayres, at the present period, may be said not to possess a navy; neither, indeed, is so expensive an establishment necessary. The captain of the port, Don Batista Azopardo, is an Italian by birth; he is said to be a well-meaning man. He commanded an armed vessel in the last war, and has been once or twice a prisoner to the English. There are likewise a number of marine officers in the service of Buenos Ayres. The _Aranzazu_, national brig of war, so long anchored in the outer roads, has a crew chiefly English; some of them are refractory seamen from the merchant vessels. The marines are black soldiers.

* * * * *

There are three regular packets which run between Buenos Ayres and Monte Video; the _Pepa_, _Dolores_, and _Mosca_, schooners. Seventeen dollars are charged for the passage each way, every thing being provided, except beds. This passage, which is about 150 miles, is sometimes made in 12 or 14 hours; at others, it takes several days. The favourite packet is the _Pepa_, an American-built schooner, with good accommodations, commanded by Campbell, an Englishman, who, from his skill and attention, is peculiarly fitted for such an employment.

* * * * *

The CLIMATE of Buenos Ayres, taken generally, is decidedly good, and more congenial to English habits than that most places abroad. Its salubrity, however, is overrated: a consumptive person must not think of coming here; many of that class have been obliged to fly to Mendoza and other climes, to escape the vicisitudes of this.

The spring months of September, October, November, and the autumn ones of April and May, are the most agreeable parts of the year. The thermometer, at those seasons, averages about 60; and we have repeated clear and bracing weather, intermingled, however, with inclement days.

The summer is not so hot as the latitude would denote. A sea breeze sets in, at times, towards the afternoon; but this is not regular. December and January are the hottest months. On some days of oppressive heat, the thermometer may average 80, and at others, the pleasing temperature of 70 and 75. In January, 1824, for nearly a week it was 96 in the shade: the oldest inhabitant never remembered such a continuance of heat. When the heat is at the greatest, a _pampero_ suddenly comes, with its accompaniment of rain, thunder and lightning, and cools the air. These Pampero winds from the W. and W.S.W. with nothing to impede their progress across the extended Pampas, blow with great violence, raising clouds of dust, and obliging every one to close windows and doors. Being off the land, they are not dangerous to shipping; though vessels at the mouth of the river have been blown in sea hundreds of miles, by a Pampero. The thunder and lightning to an European is terrific: the lightning is often dangerous.

The dust, fleas, and musquitos, render the summer months very disagreeable. The fleas are a great annoyance, the houses being filled with them; the very dust breeds them; and they seem to have a great partiality for foreigners. I don't observe that the natives heed them. They laugh at the English mode of washing the rooms to get rid of these vermin; their plan is, to strew the room with fennel, sweeping that and the fleas altogether into the street. Musquitos are another of the disagreeables.

A north wind, in summer, is very unpleasant, the heated atmosphere relaxing both mind and body. The combined effects of heat, dust, and wind, make the enjoyment of an evening promenade extremely precarious.

In summer, the pastures frequently catch fire, from the intenseness of the heat. In 1821, Mr. Halsey, an American gentleman, who has a large sheep farm, sustained a considerable loss by an event of this kind, many of his sheep having been burnt. The same heat that occasioned Mr. Halsey's loss brought on a violent Pampero; and, from the dust and burning ashes that enveloped the city, one might have supposed that the days of Herculaneum and Pompeii were about to return.

The winter is mild, yet there are days of piercing cold in the months of June, July, and August; and thin ice may be seen in the morning, but not any snow. We have here the penetrating rains, mists, and November days of England, without its comforts: from these circumstances, and the heat of the summer, Englishmen feel the cold much more than in England, and cling to their fire-sides, for they have introduced those luxuries, and the natives in some cases follow our example; otherwise, the ladies wrap themselves up in their shawls, and the gentlemen in their capotes, and thus pass the severe days of winter. The thermometer in winter is generally at 40 to 50, sometimes at 35.

The roads, after heavy rains, are nearly impassable, forming _pantanas_, or mud holes, which are dangerous to travellers; but, on the return of fine weather; they quickly dry again. The dead horses and dogs, that lie about the roads, quickly decay.

The rich pastures afford food to the cattle all the year round. The winter's general mildness prevents the necessity of housing them.

That Buenos Ayres possesses a fine climate, no one can deny; but not to the extent its panegyrists have stated. I speak as I have found it, having in vain looked for that Italian sky, soul-breathing softness in the air, that some pretend to have found: but it may be defined a healthy, warm climate.

The various and sudden changes to which the British climate is subject, form a fruitful grumbling topic to many Englishmen and foreigners, who can fancy nothing that is not foreign. According to their accounts, even the moon shines better here than at home. I will venture to assert, that we have in England more real fine days in May, June, July, August, and September, than in the best months at Buenos Ayres. Of our delightful summer evenings, they have nothing to compare. To make any contrast of a winter, in latitude 34, and that of 50, is out of the question.

In this part of South America, earthquakes are only heard of; we dread not, here, the catastrophes of Peru, Chili, and Mexico.

* * * * *

The prevalent DISEASES of Buenos Ayres are fevers, sore throats, rheumatism, and others common to Europe. Strangers are subject to rheumatism from the dampness and searching winds. Sore throats, in many instances, have been fatal.

It has often been observed, that we feel the effects of free-drinking here, more than in England. I have experienced this more than once, and thought it peculiar to myself, till others complained of the same.

* * * * *

The country round Buenos Ayres is uninteresting; all is dreary sameness. But where, indeed, shall we find the charming scenery of our dear England,--its hills and dales, parks, thick-set hedges, and splendid mansions? We miss, too, that endless chirping of birds, ever heard in our thick-set hedges. Here, the equestrian takes his ride merely for the sake of exercise, and not from any pleasure the country can afford. I did not expect to find villas, parks, and cultivated grounds; but I thought it would be more diversified.

In a place where horses are so cheap, one might conclude that Englishmen would be continually on horseback, but they soon get tired of a recreation, in which nothing but exercise is concerned. The most frequented ride is to the village of Isidro, fifteen miles from the city, the Richmond of this place. On Sundays and holidays much company resort thither. It has some attractions in point of scenery.

The Barracca road is good--upon a par with those of England. Horse-racing and other sports are practised there, both by Englishmen and natives.

A ride in the neighbourhood of Buenos Ayres is not, however, entirely devoid of interest; especially in the fruit season, when the _quintas_, or farm-houses, with the peach trees weighed down by delicious fruit, the orange trees (though this is not their soil), and the wild aloe, so common in this and the opposite continent of Africa, afford an agreeable prospect. But the wild rose, blackberries, and the mass of roots and plants of English fields and hedges, are not to be seen. The trees (if they can be called so) are of a nature so dwarfish, that they seem like apologies for trees, stinted in their growth by bad nursing.

* * * * *

The _Alameda_, or public walk of Buenos Ayres, is upon the beach, near the mole. It is totally unworthy such a city, and in the neighbourhood of all the rabble of the town. It is only about 200 yards in length, with rows of trees the height of bushes on each side, and brick seats, which are too much honoured by the fair forms that use them. A moderate assemblage frequent this walk on Sunday evenings: the beauty and dress of the females could alone tempt a stranger to visit it. On other days it is deserted, except by some elderly gentlemen, who, as in our St. James's Park and Kensington Gardens, are glad to escape from the multitude, and commune with themselves.

* * * * *

The beach well deserves its nick-name of _Wapping_; being crowded with sailors of all nations, grog-shops, stores, &c. The English sailors idling about the beach would man a ship of war. A stranger, seeing so many English faces, might suppose it an English colony. At night, the sailors in the grog-shops dance, to the music of the fiddle and flute, reels, and the College hornpipe in perfection, astonishing the Spanish girls. At one of these _pulperias_, or grog-shops, on the beach, a large picture was lately hoisted, of H.M.S. Boyne in full sail, flags, signals, &c. streaming. The English sailors mustered in great numbers upon this occasion, and rent the air with their cheers.

The seamen upon the beach are, at times, disorderly; but not more so than in other countries. American sailors have been the most refractory, causing their captains infinite trouble. The captain of an American ship going to sea, lately, made application to the captain of one of our packets, for irons, to punish his mutinous crew; but he replied, that he never had such articles on board his ship.

In no part of the world are masters of vessels subject to such annoyance from the desertion of their crews.[3] Men get into the hands of crimps, who conceal them, and exact their own price from those who are in want of sailors. This has been in some measure rectified lately, especially since the suppression of privateering. Many sailors roam about the country, working as labourers; but they soon get tired of that, and hanker after their old employment, as an old coachman likes to hear the smack of the whip. These "beach-rangers," as they are called, have often wished to enter for his majesty's ships that have been lying off Buenos Ayres; but few or none have been accepted. Sailors begin to find there is no service equal to our's.

[3] On the 4th December, 1823, the Dutch ship of war _Lynx_, of 30 guns, arrived at Buenos Ayres, on her way to the Pacific; and thirty of the crew deserted, during her stay of nineteen days. The boats came on shore latterly with armed marines, and the men were not permitted to land.

The French brig of war _Faune_ arrived on the 11th, and sailed on the 23d June, 1824: she lost six men by desertion. This brig brought to Buenos Ayres the French Admiral, Rosamel.

* * * * *

There are two English COFFEE-HOUSES, or HOTELS; Faunch's, and Keen's. The former is a very superior one, and provides the dinners given upon our national days, such as St. George's, St. Andrew's, &c. besides numerous private dinners of Englishmen, Americans, Creolians, &c. It is situated near the Fort. Faunch, the master, and his wife, have had great experience in their profession in London; and the style of his dinners is hardly to be exceeded there. The king's birth-day dinner is kept up with great _éclat_: the room is surrounded by flags of different nations; and they have both vocal and instrumental music. From 70 to 80 persons generally sit down to table, including the ministers of the country, who are always invited. The government pay us the compliment of hoisting the flag at the Fort, on that day.

Another hotel, kept by a respectable North-American female, Mrs. Thorn, a widow, is much resorted to by the Americans.

In the above coffee-houses, they charge 40 dollars per month for board and lodging. An abatement is made to those who agree to remain a certain period. Dinner for one person, including a pint of wine, is a dollar; breakfast, tea, and supper, from 2 to 4 reals each; and a bed per night, 4 reals.

On the beach, near the Fort, is a tavern, or eating-house, called the Commercial Hotel; the master of which is a Spaniard, but most of the waiters and servants are French: they have, likewise, an English waiter. Dishes of all sorts can be procured there. To dine well, the price amounts to nearly the same as at other taverns. The large dining-room will accommodate from 70 to 80 persons, and is neatly fitted up. Pictures of the battle of Alexandria, the storming of Seringapatam; portraits of the French Marshals, Bertrand, Drouet, Foy, &c.; and views of Paris and other cities, are suspended round the room.

The Café de la Victoria, in Buenos Ayres, is very splendid; we have nothing of the sort in London. It may not perhaps vie with the Mille Colonnes, or other Parisian coffee-houses. There are, likewise, in Buenos Ayres, those of St. Marco, the Catalan, and Café de Martin. They have all large court-yards, or _patios_, attached to them, and stand upon a great space of ground, more than could be well spared in London for such purposes, where land is so valuable. These _patios_, in summer, are covered with awnings, affording an agreeable retreat from the sun's heat. They have wells of good water. To each also is attached a billiard table; and, as this is a pastime to which they are much addicted, the tables are always crowded. The coffee-rooms are covered with shewy French paper, representing scenes in India, Otaheite, Don Quixote, and designs from Grecian and Roman history.

A new coffee-house was opened in December, 1824, near the church of St. Michael. The music, illuminations, and fireworks, in front of the establishment, on the evening of its opening, attracted a great concourse of people.

About four miles from town is a public-house called the York Hotel, kept by a native. Creolian masters and mates of vessels, upon their hired horses, at one dollar per afternoon, generally stop there; and the horses are so accustomed to it, that it is with difficulty they will go beyond it.

In the coffee-houses the charges are very moderate: a wine-glass of liqueurs, brandy, or any other cordial, tea, coffee, and bread, half a real; with toast, one real. The waiters do not expect fees, as in England: a _capitas_, or head waiter, superintends the coffee-room.[4]

[4] In the coffee-houses, the waiters are very inquisitive, and in a manner that one cannot be angry with. A knight of the napkin got me into conversation, asking me a host of questions about England and Englishmen, declaring, that he liked them better than any foreigners; and, after passing those compliments, which I received with due reverence, he eagerly demanded the reason of the English having such red faces? I knew he could not mean mine, as I am dark, and of a sallow complexion; so I told him, that the rich people drank a great deal of Port wine, and the poor equally so of beer, which accounted for the bloom he had noticed.

In the arrangements and decoration of coffee-houses, the French and Spaniards far outstrip us. The English are not a coffee-house-going people: that time which other nations spend in them, the Englishman passes in business, or with his family.

Many Englishmen, upon their first arrival, reside with Spanish families, to improve themselves in the language: forty dollars per month is the charge. The houses of Mrs. Cassamajor and Mrs. Rubio take in boarders; these families are of the highest respectability, and they have several accomplished daughters, whose society is very interesting; but Spanish cookery, with its garlic and grease, no more pleases an English taste, than does that of the French.

* * * * *

Of the PUBLIC BUILDINGS, the Fort is the seat of government, the Downing-Street of Buenos Ayres: it is situated near the river, with residences inside. Though surrounded by a ditch, with cannon mounted on the ramparts, drawbridges, &c. it could make but little defence against a serious attack. One would suppose, that those who chose the spot on which the city is built, had in view the prevention of attack by hostile fleets, the shallowness of the water being a defence against any danger of this kind.

The Consulado is a respectable-looking house; it contains a Court of Justice, or Appeals, for persons cited for debt, of which they regulate the payment according to the ability of the party summoned, very similar to our Courts of Request. In cases of debt they are very lenient, seldom committing to prison, except for a flagrant attempt at fraud, and sometimes giving the debtor five years to pay his creditors, which is almost tantamount to a release. Disputes are decided by the magistrates, at the Consulado, with an impartiality that gives universal satisfaction. The English disputants, it has been observed, are very numerous, causing more trouble than those of all the rest of the town put together. The Post-Office is held in this building; and on the first floor (for the house is one story high) is a Music School, in the morning for young ladies, and in the evening for gentlemen.

The Cabildo, or Town-House, has nothing remarkable about it, but the church tower, and a long balcony in front: it is built in the Plaza, of which it forms the western boundary. The great powers possessed by the Members of the Cabildo, according to the old Spanish law, have been reformed within these three years. It has a prison for criminal offenders; and the head Police-Office is near it.

The Bank, and the adjoining range of houses, are lofty and handsome.

The House of Representatives has been lately constructed; it follows the model, on a minor scale, of the French Chamber at Paris, and forms a perfect theatre. The members are seated in the pit, the president and secretary on the stage, and the spectators in the boxes. A bell announces the commencement and the close of business. The orators, when speaking, remain seated; so that they have no opportunity to display the graces of action. It is well lighted, by tasteful chandeliers. The armed soldiery, both inside and outside the house, destroys the idea of republicanism.

The Custom-House has no pretensions to notice, on the score of appearance, whatever it may merit for its convenience. It was proposed to build another, in the extensive grounds and gardens of the suppressed monastery of Le Merced; but this, like many other propositions, has been abandoned.

The Public Library is a credit to this infant state; it contains about 21,000 volumes. Every respectable person is allowed admittance, to peruse the books. Mr. Moreno, who speaks English, is the librarian. Some choice drawings of medals from France are in the library.

There is a small Botanical Museum; but the country furnishes few specimens of plants.

The Retiro, occupied as barracks, is on the north extremity of the city, and has nothing worthy of notice about it, but its theatrical appearance, and daubs of paintings on the walls. There is a large space in front, called the Bull Ring, in which bull-fights used to take place. The band performs there, for a short time, in the afternoon. It is here that criminals are shot, when the punishment is not for a state offence. Being situated upon high ground, and near the river, the Retiro has a pleasant prospect. In one of the streets near it, is a large brick building, built for a distillery, twelve years since, by Mr. Thwaites, an Englishman. The speculation did not answer, and the house is now in a state of dilapidation. A windmill, west of the town, is a conspicuous object; it is the only one in the country, and was erected by Mr. Stroud, also an Englishman. It had, for some time, the fate of the distillery; but I have heard that it now flourishes.

The Residencia, on the south side of the Fort, is appropriated as an hospital. There are two or three other public hospitals, including one for foundlings.

* * * * *

The Grand Plaza is a large square, environed by buildings: on the east is the Recoba, a piazza with shops; on the west, the Cabildo; on the north, a part of the cathedral; and on the south, a range of shops. There is a pyramid in the centre, which, on festival nights, is illuminated. If paved, it would be an admirable place for the parade of troops; at present, wet weather renders it almost impassable.

A second Plaza has been made, adjoining the other, near the Fort, by the removal of the market-place and some dirty sheds and stabling.

The river, the fort, some neat buildings on the south, the handsome arch, under which there is a passage to the two plazas, the towers of St. Francisco's church, and the Cabildo, taken in perspective from Faunch's Hotel, would form a good picture.

At night, the streets are respectably lighted by lamps fastened to the walls, which extend as far as the eye can reach in some of the principal thoroughfares, in St. Francisco Street particularly. A stranger, on viewing this street, would imbibe no mean opinion of the city. The lamps do not afford any thing like the illumination of the gas lights of London; they are equal, however, to those used before the introduction of gas.

From the state of the pavements, except in the principal streets, walking at night is very disagreeable--in wet weather, dangerous; and here are no accommodating hackney coaches to jump into.

It is intended to pave all the streets; but, from the scarcity of workmen and materials, it will be some time before this can be effected. Those that have pavements, bating their narrowness, are similar to the streets of London; the unpaved ones are very miserable.

* * * * *

The HOUSES of Buenos Ayres are mostly built of brick, and white-washed. Very few of them are one story high: they are flat-roofed, with a high parapet, and have a court-yard attached. The windows are protected by iron bars placed lengthwise in the front, so that a Londoner might fancy them lock-up houses. They form a complete fortification; and the loss sustained in Whitelock's attack ceases to excite surprise, recollecting that our troops had to run the gauntlet through an enemy they could not get at.