CHAPTER XII.

BUENOS AYRES.

Departure from Monte Video.—Moonlight on the La Plata.—Deficiency of landing accommodation at Buenos Ayres.—Streets and buildings of the Argentine capital.—The climate and the people.—Prohibition of the slave trade.—General Whitelock, the Calle de Defensa, and Colonel Thompson.—Expedition against Monte Video.—Palermo, the country residence of General Rosas.—Characters of the dictator and his successor, Urquiza.—Donna Manueleta.—Argentine confederation.—Government of General Rosas.—War on the Plata and the Parana.—Foreign intervention and capture of Rosas’ fleet.—Blockade of Buenos Ayres and ascent of the Parana.—The pass of Obligado.—Intervention of Brazil, and passage of the Uruguay by Urquiza.—Capitulation of General Oribe.—Battle of Moron, and fall of Rosas.—Fluvial obstructions to trade and navigation.—Buenos Ayrean washerwomen.—English residents, their churches and newspaper, hotels and boarding-houses.—Anglo intermarriages.—Railway projects.—A word on the Buenos Ayrean constitution.—A South American debate.—Society in Buenos Ayres.—The Opera-house, and its galaxy of beauty.—Foreign shopkeepers and Irish servants.—General Paz.

NOTE TO THE ILLUSTRATIONS.—The view preceding this chapter is a reduced fac simile of the drawing of the city, taken by Sir W. G. Ouseley, from the house, or quinta, occupied by him during the period he was Minister here, it having formerly been the residence of the two diplomatists who preceded him, Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Mandeville. Sir William says the dwelling is situated in the suburb of the city, and stands in a pretty garden and pleasure grounds, occupying above nine acres. The sketch was taken while a squall was coming on, the precursor of one of the hurricanes called Pamperos, but which are not quite peculiar to the Pampas, inasmuch as something of the same kind will be found to be of occasional occurrence in Brazil, as specified in the note to the illustration of Rio Janeiro, at page 150. Vessels in the Plate, and along the coast, often suffer severely from the Pamperos, or gales blowing over plains that stretch out to the foot of the Andes. These storms come on very suddenly, so that not unfrequently, while one part of the landscape is still basking in calm sunshine, the rest is shrouded in a dark veil, almost intercepting the light of day, while black clouds are impetuously swept onwards by the advancing gale, discharging in their course torrents of rain, until in a short time the whole of the horizon is alike inducted by the Pamperos, generally lasting for three days. Even experienced pilots and mariners have but short warning of their approach; and at certain seasons of the year particularly great vigilance is highly necessary to guard against their sudden violence. Buenos Ayres, like Monte Video and nearly all the towns in these provinces, is built on the rectangular system prescribed by the laws of the Indies, the streets intersecting each other at right angles every 150 yards, forming what the Americans call regular squares or blocks. It does not follow, however, that this regularity contributes in reality either to the beauty or convenience of a town. It is monotonous, and the uniformity is certainly far less picturesque than the sort of irregularity that gives so pleasing an effect to the Boulevards of Paris, and to many parts of the older capitals of Europe. Here the more handsome buildings, as usual in Spanish and Portuguese America, are mostly of an ecclesiastical character—churches, convents, &c. At a distance, or softened by the shades of evening, they have an imposing appearance; but a nearer approach and bright daylight show, as in Eastern towns, that the ravages of time have never been checked by proper care; that few have ever been completely finished or repaired; and many bear marks of utter neglect and decay. This is especially the case with edifices constructed for charitable purposes and public buildings. Hospitals, schools, lunatic asylums, &c., were until lately going to ruin, and whatever funds or estates may have originally been granted by private or public benefactors for the support of these institutions, they had not been employed by recent governments, more especially that of Rosas, for their maintenance, as intended by the donors. Several of the streets are paved with granite, brought from the islands above Buenos Ayres—chiefly from Martin Garcia; but being on a bad principle, as the stones are neither of equal size, nor properly cut, they, therefore, soon become uneven and very trying for carriages. The unpaved ones are actually dangerous or impassable for vehicles with springs and horses, especially after heavy rains; for, there being no stones, while the soil is fine and of great depth, deep holes, quagmires, and pools of water, form in parts of them.

Leaving Monte Video for a time, let us now ascend the La Plata, and take a peep at this far-famed Lion’s Den, where for so many years the despotic Rosas pursued his iniquitous course with impunity. We got up steam, and left just before dark, with a fair number of passengers for a first trip, and any quantity of luggage belonging to them. It was a magnificent moonlight as we glided over the great waters, for such they may truly be called; scarcely a breath of wind, but a cold, rarified air, that made many resort to their coats, cloaks, and any other available covering. Our only difficulty was in making the vessel go _slow_ enough, and even so we arrived off the outer roads long before daylight, after which we made our way through a fleet of shipping, and the city of Buenos Ayres was spread before us, rising, as it were, out of the water, tall churches and domes standing forth in strong relief against a glittering sun; but in other respects, appearances were not very inviting. After two hours consumed in waiting for the officer to board us, we were enabled to land—and such landing! worse even than what met the Spaniards on their first visit; for since that time heaps of petrified mud have accumulated on the shore, which thus looks like rock, and boats are obliged literally to grope their way through it, going as near as they can to the land; but the usual process is for visitors to be bundled out of the boat into an open cart, drawn by two horses, like so many pigs or sheep, often at the risk of being drenched. Indeed, nothing can be more wretched than this landing at one of the finest cities of South America, which does not possess a single jetty, wharf, pier, or accommodation of any kind in this way, although there is a fine walk built along the margin of the river, serving as a public promenade, but yet very little frequented. The only redeeming point in this landing is the singularity of the turn out, the picturesque dress and character of the drivers being again much of the Turk, only a finer and more athletic race, with any degree of personal activity, and no touch of pity in them towards the unfortunate animals they ride; for there is no driving here, all done _en postilion_, and I believe they even fish on horseback, to say nothing of begging. The position of the roadstead is bad enough, the outer roads being five to six miles from shore, and the inner roads from one to two miles, (according to the position taken up,) without being subjected to such inconvenience when you do reach the land; but on this point we shall have some further remarks to make when reviewing the commercial character of the place.

The unfavourable sensation produced by the vile landing and unfinished look of the churches and buildings from the river vanishes when fairly in the heart of the city. You are struck with astonishment at its vast size, many well-paved streets, public buildings, and houses redolent of luxurious comfort. Nor does a closer inspection quite remove this impression; on the contrary, the more you examine and penetrate, the greater the surprise that after so long a period of civil and foreign warfare, there should still exist so much vitality. The conviction at once forces itself upon you that there must be wealth, and no small amount of it, somewhere.

Any lengthened description of Buenos Ayres, beyond what is supplied in the note below,[85] and that on the illustration, would be superfluous, so many thousand English having visited and recorded their experiences of it; but it is very questionable whether the public generally have any adequate idea of the magnitude of the city, the extent of its inland territory, or the leading characteristics of both. At all events, very few works have been published from which accurate information of this kind can be derived; the recent and most valuable one of Sir Woodbine Parish being as yet only partially known, in consequence of its being but a second edition of one published several years ago; and even since the second edition appeared, scarcely two years back, there is necessity for further information, so unstable is the condition of things, and so rapid the mutation of momentous events in these regions. Certainly there is ample scope for dissertation in all that comes under one’s notice here, look with what indifference or contempt we may upon the individuals and parties by whom political occurrences are influenced. First, as regards the climate and people: the difference in temperature between Buenos Ayres and Rio Janeiro at this season of the year is from 20 to 30 deg., and after four or five days’ sailing, you find yourself obliged to change the lightest possible clothing for English tweeds and stout broad-cloth, which, mindful of such vicissitude, and therein being much more provident than some of my fellow voyagers, I had fortunately with me. It is a precaution I would recommend all voyagers in the Plate to adopt, as it is one that will not only save them much inconvenience at the outset, but probably obviate a material cause of subsequent illness, consequent upon exposure to such rapid transitions as are here experienced, especially until the traveller becomes somewhat acclimated.

The mornings and evenings are positively cold, even according to our English acceptation of the word; and most houses had fires in their sitting rooms. In the day time the sun is warm and pleasant; the air of that bracing kind which is calculated to raise the animal spirits, and give a tone and energy to the mind. The difference, too, in the people between this place and Brazil is remarkable:—strong, healthy-looking men, clear complexioned, bright-eyed women, many of whom have as much bloom on their cheeks as would become an English dairy-maid. Of course, there is a considerable mixture of races; but the true native Buenos Ayreans can be easily distinguished by their rather dark but clear complexion, dark eyes, and dark hair, strongly-marked sharp features, and somewhat aquiline nose; whilst the Guachos, or horsemen of the Pampas, the South American Bedouins, combining the attributes of their Hispaniolan forefathers with the later ‘blood of the desert,’ are the most picturesque-looking objects in the world, being dressed in fancy-coloured ponchos, with much ornamental work about them, and long, embroidered white trousers, galloping about on equally grotesque-looking steeds. They remind one immediately of Arab sketches, or, still more vividly, of real Arabs, if you have been fortunate enough to have made the overland trip, and beheld the followers of the Prophet in the land of dates, palm-trees, and dromedaries; many of these Guachos being, also, immensely muscular, fine-looking men. Numerous black faces are also to be seen here, the owners thereof being all free, and mostly occupied as regular soldiers, as likewise at Monte Video.

Buenos Ayres literally forms a regular chess-board, as the plans of the city show. It is about four miles square, and supposed to contain nearly 100,000 inhabitants; but as no census has ever been taken, this is only conjecture: some asserting that there are 120,000, others, not 80,000; and others again, as low as 50,000.[86] At all events, the mass of the houses being well occupied, rents are very high, paying the owners from 12 to 20 per cent. per annum; so there would appear to be plenty of occupants, and great encouragement to go on building. The same remark as to the description, extent, and elegance, of private houses, applies here precisely as in the capital of the Uruguay, only that they are ten to one in number, more costly and elegant; indeed, the city itself, compared with Monte Video, is as London to Liverpool, the great maritime and commercial advantages and facilities of the one being regarded as an equivalent, and perhaps more than an equivalent, to the architectural and general urban superiority of the other. The size of the (fifteen) Buenos Ayrean churches is something marvellous; and it is impossible to enter them without admiring these monuments of the power and wealth exercised by the Jesuits, as well as of that undaunted tenacity of Spanish character which could erect such huge piles in a country where there are neither bricks, mortar, nor stones on the spot, all having to come from a distance. But, as we have said, the brick-work in many of them has never been completed; and they look very bad when contrasted with the glaring white of other parts of the building, covered with large patches of grass and rubbish. The cathedral is the crowning point of Buenos Ayrean attractions, only more modern, and the exterior is in the same unfinished state as much older edifices; the interior being gorgeously ‘fitted up’ with numerous side altars and oratories, well cleaned, lighted, and ventilated, with numerous glass chandeliers down the nave. There is less tinsel and glare than in many Roman Catholic churches in Europe, but more solidity and pleasing effect; nor can a stranger help expressing surprise on entering so fine a building, whose architectural merit is enhanced by its situation in so handsome a square, the other sides being occupied by the Cabilda, or police-office, and good shops and dwelling-houses, with striking piazzas. There is also an ornamental archway on the side facing the sea, looking towards the old fort and government house, together with a pillar in the centre of the square, to commemorate the independence of the country. This square has been the scene of many important political changes: it was here that our brave soldiers under General Whitelock forced their way, and from the Square Manzo, what is now styled Calle de Defensa (Defence-street), by which the troops entered the town, and were shot down from the flat tops of the houses,[87] without the power or means of defending themselves. It does not require a military eye to see the error and folly of the tactics pursued in this melancholy business, nor to be satisfied with how little trouble and loss of life such an army as the British, so circumstanced, could have reduced a city like Buenos Ayres, even supposing they had preferred a more summary process to that of starving out the enemy. There was an infatuation about the whole affair for which it is difficult to account, especially when coupled with the gratuitous surrender of Monte Video, under the same terms as those which ensured the capitulation of Whitelock, a clause inserted by the Spanish general, Liniers, without the least idea that it would be acceded to. But, at that period, imbecility and absurdity the most incredible seemed to preside at our military councils, leading to the same futile and mortifying results as had characterized our operations in Walcheren and elsewhere in Europe, some few years before. With Monte Video and Buenos Ayres under our flag, it is difficult to conjecture what might not have been the fate of a country traversed by boundless rivers, and in every way so admirably adapted to the agricultural pursuits of Englishmen. The tide of emigration from our own shores would then, in all probability, have flowed freely towards this part of the world, and the United States of North America have taken considerably more time to develope themselves, and to have attained their present position, which, of course, has been reached mainly in consequence of the enormous influx of the redundant bone, sinew, and brain of Europe. On such slight threads and events does the destiny of nations often hang. But it is time that we leave speculation for fact.

The name of Rosas has been so long identified with Buenos Ayres, that you no sooner find yourself within the recent sphere of his undisputed and unquestioned domination than you naturally ask, where exist the monuments of his activity, and the proofs of his successful promotion of the interests of this his dependent capital? Beyond a large town residence, which he built for government purposes, a country residence, called Palermo, and a mole constructed in front of the sea, there is nothing to mark the reign of a man desirous of elevating the character of his countrymen in the scale of civilized nations, or of contributing to their commercial prosperity. In spite of civil wars and bad government, the city of Buenos Ayres has contrived to extend itself, although the country round it is, more or less, in a state of desolation; but he has failed to leave any enduring personal impress, either outside or inside, of those walls where for many years he ruled lord of life and means, and almost of thought, so comprehensive and exhaustive was his despotism. The town residence alluded to is now occupied by the executive for public purposes, and the private one at Palermo will soon go to ruin and decay. This latter characteristic evidence of selfish gratification, without either taste, utility, or architectural design, has cost endless sums of money; but the approximate extent of the outlay will never be known. Palermo is built on a swampy bank of the river, with only a ground floor, at times several feet under water, which must be a prolific source of fever and ague. It is reported of Rosas, that on one occasion the water was so high, that the cook sent him word he could not dress his dinner; but on ascertaining that the kitchen-fires were not out, the command was to prepare the meal forthwith. The unfortunate subterranean ruler of the roast did so at once, congratulating himself that he only suffered the penalty of a severe attack of rheumatism, instead of the more summary visitation wherewith the dictator generally followed up the slightest implied opposition to his wishes, even in so trumpery a matter as the one we speak of.

A good level road has been carried from the city to Palermo, at considerable expense, the approach being ‘through an avenue of willows,’ made to look as park-like as possible. About the house, or palace, as it might have been called in the days of its glory, are numerous out-buildings and barracks for cavalry, of which Rosas always kept a strong body-guard, as might naturally have been expected from his antecedents, he having principally risen to power in the first instance among his fellow guachos by the superior daring and dexterity of his horsemanship; added, of course, to his extreme adroitness in turning to his own account the dissentions of his rivals in the race for power. Passing the house, down another long avenue towards the river, you are surprised at seeing a large vessel, evidently fitted up for some special purpose. It appears she was driven ashore there in some heavy gale; and Rosas had her converted into a pleasure house, where balls and parties were held—another toy or plaything suited to the character of the man. Nature being found rather stubborn in yielding to the wishes of the owner of Palermo, immense sums were expended in planting orange trees, ever-greens, and exotics, of one kind or another, which were brushed and combed daily, and coaxed into a sickly existence; but it would not do. Nothing but willows flourish, or will continue to flourish, over the dilapidated abode from which issued many a bloody decree of this Borgia of the Pampas.

I have no wish to say anything unnecessarily harsh of Rosas: on the contrary, knowing, as I do, what was the state of parties in this portion of South America, I am quite willing to admit the extreme exigency of his position in the first instance, as one who must put down, with an iron, and even a remorseless, hand, that universal anarchy and violence in the midst of which he attained the eminence of being the most daring and sanguinary member of a community of semi-civilized brigands. But what should silence, or rather should have silenced, for they are all mute enough now, his well-paid eulogists and defenders, is the continuance of mean and miserable cruelties, long after the faintest pretext for their perpetration on political grounds had passed away. I will not shock the reader by a revival of stories at which one’s blood runs cold. He is gone; fled as ignominiously as he had lived detestably; and, notwithstanding his gangs of gorged assassin friends, who would profit by his return, he has left none behind who bless his memory. If any proof were wanted, this would be conclusive, as to the purely selfish career of the man; for even a comity of crime evokes no benison on the head of the expelled despot, who never thought of anything but the aggrandisement of himself and family, at the expense of the national treasury. The revulsion of popular feeling towards him is only what might have been anticipated, though hardly, perhaps, to the extent that has actually taken place, considering the length of time he ruled, and the immense number of personal retainers one would have thought he might have contrived to attach to him. Some of these remained faithful after his fall, to the length of employing a portion of the ample funds left behind him to endeavour to promote his recall.

There has been an end of this for some time, and, consequently, a cessation of the intrigues arising from it. Urquiza, his sometime successor in the dictatorship, and the present President of the Argentine Confederation, (though long since repudiated by the principal state of the confederacy, Buenos Ayres, itself), extended to Rosas the almost unheard-of generosity of sparing his so-called private property—property which he wrung from the state, and which, on his departure, was employed by his myrmidons to effect the expulsion of Urquiza, and bring about the restoration of the elder tyrant. The former object it undoubtedly greatly helped to accomplish; in the latter it entirely failed; for, though Urquiza certainly entered upon unwise courses, was too precipitate and sweeping in his changes, and mistook violence for vigour, in many instances, as was not unnatural in a soldier fresh from another country, for the province of which he was president, Entre Rios, may be called so, still, from all I could learn among dispassionate critics, it would seem that he and the citizens, friends of order, would soon have become reconciled to each other, and there would have been a mutual softening of acerbities, were it not for the emissaries of Rosas being enabled, by the means just mentioned, to foment those antagonist feelings which eventually led to the siege and blockade, by Urquiza, of the very place he had so lately freed from the presence of the despot. Whatever may have been the faults of Urquiza, and they certainly find no apologist in me, his brief tenure of supreme power was sufficiently long to prove that he was altogether a man of superior stamp to Rosas, whose selfishness lacked even the ambition to make his tyranny respectable, in the sense that the most narrow-minded of oppressors have endeavoured to do elsewhere. Francia, whilst isolating Paraguay from all the world, contrived to make the Paraguayans proud of their country, and to cause others to believe that that pride was not altogether unfounded. Not so with Rosas: short-sighted as Francia, he had not a particle of the lofty feeling which influenced that gloomy bigot; for, while endeavouring to render Buenos Ayres powerful, it was all for himself individually; and he cared not to give the Buenos Ayreans an interest in saying that the tyrant who ground them was otherwise than simply hateful, and that what he achieved for them in the eyes of foreigners was purely contemptible. Saying nothing of the total absence, under his regime, of any commercial convenience, as already pointed out, not a single thing was done during his sway that had for its object real internal improvement. No newspapers were allowed to appear, except those under his sanction, in the same way as the one St. Petersburgh journal under the Czar’s surveillance. Not a single literary, historical, descriptive, or local work was allowed to be published or sold in Buenos Ayres, and barely a common-place almanack could be procured; so that to the present day you cannot find such a thing in the city as the slightest evidence that the mind of the whole population was otherwise than embruted to the level of helots, which indeed was virtually the case all the time his blighting influence was in the ascendant. The answer to any inquiry at the shops for works of information about either the city or provinces, during that period, is invariably the same, ‘Rosas did not permit their publication!’ The consequence is, you are obliged to grope your way along, and glean what you can from those you meet.

The rationale of this argument is altogether incomprehensible; for how are we to understand what could be his motive for such conduct at home, when we know that he was particularly assiduous, by means of the French, English, and even German press, and through every instrument of publicity he could influence, whether on stock exchanges, in diplomatic circles, or in fashionable coteries, to disseminate through Europe the belief that his capital was the abode of luxurious and intellectual enjoyment of every kind, its inhabitants delighted with his paternal sway, and that any interference on behalf of the unfortunate Uruguayans or others of his victims, external or domestic, was to be deprecated as the most irremediable of calamities, not merely to Buenos Ayres itself, but the whole of South America? That he succeeded in propagating this belief in some of the best informed quarters of Europe, particularly in England, is but too well known; and it is not a little curious that almost simultaneously with his arrival here, there appeared in certain organs, influenced by him, loud praises of a Hamburgh publication devoted to the exposition of the wisdom of his commercial policy, and ridiculing the notion of the affluents of the Plata ever being opened to European trade. But he and his system have passed away, and the memory of them is fast departing too in the coming of that better time which is believed to be at hand. His brother arrived in Europe in January last, despairing of any restoration of the family fortunes whatever; so I take leave of a topic that has become as obsolete as it would have been disagreeable to pursue it; and shall make no apology for the omission in these pages of anecdotic scandals,[88] for which readers at one time looked, as a matter of course, in every book professing to treat of the terrible Dictator, and eke of his famous daughter, the Donna Manueleta, who has been married (to a South American) since her father’s arrival in England, and now lives, I believe, in the neighbourhood of Southampton. Unwilling to dwell on the political complications in the Plate, and, at the same time, fearing it would be a contradiction of the desire expressed in the preface, to render this volume as informing as possible, especially to readers who may draw from it for the first time their knowledge of South American matters, I append, in a note, from the excellent geographical work of Mr. Charles Knight, now (1854) in course of publication[89] by Messrs. Bradbury and Evans, a brief, but comprehensive and dispassionate statement of recent incidents in the Argentine Confederation, and have added a few particulars, which, together, will, it is hoped, bring the narrative of occurrences necessary to be known down to the period of going to press, without the occupation of much space, or tediously encumbering the text with minutiæ of proper names, dates, and places, for these are really of little value to the general reader save for purposes of reference.

The view of the port of Buenos Ayres (if it can be called a port) from the flats of the houses is picturesque, vessels lying at anchor as far as the eye can reach. On the left, towards Palermo, is some high ground, with numerous pretty-looking villa residences; on the right, is the old fort, afterwards the custom-house, warehouses, and depôts of various kinds; further on, what is called the Boca, or Mouth, a small river, where large numbers of minor craft discharge and load in safety; but, at times, it is difficult even for them to get out, owing to an accumulation of sand at the river’s mouth which Rosas might have kept open, but made a really effectual effort to close it. Looking seaward, swarms of carts are visible going to and from lighters or small vessels at anchor in the inner road, the only means by which shipping can be discharged or loaded, the merchandise exposed of course to damage from being wet, as the horses are often up to their chests, and the cart itself even higher, in the water, through which it has to be dragged for a mile and upwards. The wonder is how any trade whatever can be carried on under such disadvantages. Another singular feature in the vicinage of the landing place is to see the shore covered with garments of cotton and linen undergoing every stage of the ablutionary process, the Buenos Ayrean naiads of the oceanic wash-tub converting the Atlantic to a purpose undreamed of by the Mesdames Partington of the elder world. As far as the eye can reach the detergent sisterhood may be seen of an afternoon, like the laundry-maid in the fable, ‘spreading out their clothes;’ and their gesticulations, and the chattering they keep up, especially if there is a squall blowing, and one can hear their shrill treble piping fitfully above the blast at intervals, recalls a recollection of the Witches’ Dance as played by Paganini, if you ever happen to have heard that weird fantasia on one string; or, if not, perhaps you will be inclined to account for what must have been the sensation of Columbus and his companions, on nearing the shores of the new world, when, according to Rogers,

The sound of harpy wings they heard And shrieks, not of men, were mingling in the blast.

We have said there is a large foreign population, some say 50,000; but though that must be a great exaggeration, there are at all events some 5000 English of all denominations, many being small tradesmen, and not a few owners of cattle and cultivators of the soil in the province; the Anglo Buenos Ayrean community mustering altogether in sufficient strength to support liberally a well-conducted though not always impartial local organ of their own, in their own language, called the _British Packet_, which holds somewhat the same rank among the family of John Bull on the East coast of South America that _Galignani_ does in Paris—saving the political neutrality of the latter. There is a tolerably handsome well-frequented English, and several other protestant churches, nearly all of which have good schools in connection with them; as have also the places of worship belonging to the Germans, who muster to the number of about 900, or nearly equal to the Scotch; but the governmental influence exercised over these schools renders them less satisfactory to the parents of the children than could be desired. It is to be hoped that now there is a stable form of administration established, there will be a reformation in this respect; for, from the circumstance of Buenos Ayres possessing many institutions for the promotion of science, for painting and drawing, and some excellent libraries, not saying anything of several good newspapers, which, though in Spanish, are very useful to the foreign inhabitants, the city is perhaps one of the best for educational purposes in South America. Indeed, there is a very English aspect in many features of Buenos Ayres, not the least prominent of which are perhaps the hotels and boarding-houses, several of these establishments being conducted by English people, and by natives of the United States. Anglo intermarriages with the natives are frequent, and a few years of peace and tranquillity here, as at Monte Video, would give a wonderful impetus to population, and to the trade of the place. Some railway projects were being talked of when I was there, and still more sanguinely since I left. These, if undertaken by joint stock companies on the spot, may be carried out with remunerative success; but the government are totally helpless in the present state of their finances. One railway scheme, from the mole round to the custom-house along the margin of the river, would be a great public convenience, and easily made. Railways and steam navigation must be established, to drive these countries a-head, or they will recede into a state of semi-barbarism. They cannot stand still, or remain in their present normal condition; and it is to be hoped they will take heart of grace from the position and example of Brazil, which shows that it is not climate, race, geographical position, nor fertility of soil, that gives prosperity to a country; but 1st, peace, and, above all, internal peace; and, 2ndly, a determination to avail of the advantages which peace alone permits of, when it is a peace secured, not by the leaden despotism of a Paraguayan Francia or a Muscovite Nicholas, but by a constitutional government, rendering every man equal in the eye of the law, and rendering the law equally applicable to every man’s case, from the President or Emperor, to the humblest citizen, whatever his creed, colour, or profession. In reference to the system of government prevailing in Buenos Ayres, it is only necessary to say that, like all the South American republics, nominal freedom is maintained on the widest basis. Forty-four deputies, one-half of whom are elected every year by the people, compose the junta, or legislative assembly, by whom the governor,[90] or captain-general, is chosen for three years, he being altogether unfettered in his choice of ministry, but their policy must of course be acceptable to the junta to be rendered effective, as in the case of the British Cabinet and House of Commons. The provisional governor now in office is Don Manuel Pinto; and from all I could hear, his conduct, and that of his ministers, is regarded with as much general favour as could be reasonably expected, considering his and their exceedingly anomalous position. For it is to be remembered that Buenos Ayres is, _de jure_, a province of the Argentine Confederation, and yet _de facto_, separated from it, the difficulty being to determine how far either condition is acceptable, or the contrary, whether to the Buenos Ayreans themselves, or to any, and how many, of the other provinces, whose constancy to any one view, whether as affecting their individual or federative status, cannot be counted upon for a month together. I had not an opportunity of attending the Buenos Ayrean Assembly, but believe that the description given of that at Rio is tolerably applicable to it, and that both, and indeed those of all the states of the continent, were very accurately pourtrayed by Mr. Robinson several years ago, nothing whatever having occurred since to qualify his sketch, viz.,—

The form of South American debates is this: members take their seats, having previously assembled in an ante-room, till a sufficient number is collected to constitute what is called a ‘sala,’ and by us, ‘a house.’ The government secretaries or ministers have their respective places, but no vote in the house. The president (or speaker) sits at a table on a platform raised above the level of the room. There is a bell at his right-hand, with which he tinkles to order. He has a secretary on either side of him; and one or two reporters are seated immediately under him. In some places, the members speak in a sitting position, which, to an Englishman, has an awkward effect. In other places they mount up into a ‘tribuno,’ or rostrum. By the former position the graces and vehemence of action are precluded; and by the latter, not only does action become a mere studied display, but the notion of business is superseded by the expectancy of a formal oration. We cannot reconcile it to ourselves in the one case, to see a man sitting and taking his snuff-box out, during the heat of debate (himself being at once the snuffer and the speaker), any more than in the other we can feel ourselves warmed by the over-wrought rapidity of action of a mercurial spirit, or the measured solemnity of a grave one, putting forth its ebullitions from a box, of which the sides are too high for elbow-room. South American members of parliament, in the exercise of a politeness not in use with ours, do not at once rise to speak, but preface all they have to say with a ‘pido la palabra,’ that is, ‘I desire leave to speak.’ The president nods assent. His eye has been caught; and the honourable member proceeds in a strain, that, in accordance, at first, with the modesty of his appeal, rises by degrees, into such rude charges, and round assertions against his opponents, as to draw from them, long before he has finished, loud and frequent interruptions, much denial of premises, and motioning of the hand and head, as if to say, ‘You shall have an answer.’ This impatience often proceeds so far, not on the part of the immediate opponent alone, of the speaking member, but of all who take a different view of the case, that the president is obliged to tinkle many times the bell by which he calls the members to order before he can procure it; and no sooner is it procured, than it is again interrupted. There are frequent calls, during the heat of debate, for the ‘quarto intermedio,’ or quarter of an hour’s rest; and few subjects, indeed, are ever deemed of interest enough to warrant a prolongation of the morning sitting, which ends at two o’clock P.M., or of the evening one, which closes at nine. In an early congress of Buenos Ayres, some point was discussed of such unusual importance, that at five o’clock in the afternoon the sitting had not come to a close. At this hour, a worthy but rather gastronomic member rose and said: ‘Gentlemen, I beg you to observe, that if we thus prolong our debates beyond our regular dinner-hour, these political discussions will at last land us in our graves.’ He was cheered by all the old doctors present; and more regular hours were thenceforth observed. Mr. Brotherton would be a well-supported member in the Buenos Ayres House of Commons.

The _agremens_ of social life for natives, and, what is still more rare in South American cities, for foreigners, are numerous. Not only are there comfortable Club-Houses, to which they resort in considerable numbers, but there is the opera for lovers of music—an art, or rather a passion pursued here with even greater devotion than in the rival sister city of the Plate, of which we have spoken in the previous chapter; but here of course this passion is far more effectually administered to than at Monte Video, because of the presence of a well-supported and very effective lyric corps. As with ourselves at home, to be sure, the opera-house is resorted to not exclusively because of its chromatic or choreographic allurements, but for the fashion of the thing, and, on the part of the male sex, for the sake of the opportunity of witnessing the Buenos Ayrean belles, who, on such occasion, are seen to infinite advantage, probably even more so than on the Prado, in all the magic of mantilla, and that peculiarly bewitching gait they derive from their Andalusian mammas. Much as I had heard before-hand of what Lord Palmerston, in describing aldermen’s wives at Lord Mayors’ dinners, calls the ‘galaxy of beauty’ which assembles in the Buenos Ayrean Opera-House, I was altogether unprepared for the reality; and certainly I never saw so many charming looking women collected together, especially in a part of the theatre corresponding to our upper boxes, but here nicknamed the Hen-Coop, into which sanctum none of the worser half of humanity is admitted any more than is the better half in the Omnibus Box in Covent Garden, or what used to be such when there was a place once known as Her Majesty’s Theatre. Unlike our Omnibus Box, however, the Hen-Coop admits of its occupants being seen by the whole house, and the privilege is apparently no less gratifying to those who dispense than those who participate in it. In the regular dress boxes, ladies and gentlemen mingle as with us; and whether in mien, physiognomy, or manners, may challenge comparison with any audience I have ever seen anywhere. The Buenos Ayrean ladies are social and unreserved, without the least degree of boldness or effrontery; they mix freely with foreigners, and go about out of doors without either duenna or cavalier servente. The peculiar custom of seeming exclusiveness at the theatre just alluded to, arises from a wish to go unattended whenever they feel disposed, in their regular sitting or house dresses, which evince great natural taste and simplicity, and not from any wish to avoid the company of the other sex. Coming out of the theatre, they are met by their brothers, parents, or husbands, and walk home as unceremoniously as they go. Among their other accomplishments should be included a peculiarly graceful equestrianism, which invariably excites the admiration of all Europeans in a marked degree, and not the least so of the English, who pursue the sports of the turf with the ardour which our countrymen carry with them for that pastime wherever they go. The Buenos Ayrean races are very popular with the inhabitants; and in return their fetes and festivals find considerable favour in British eyes.[91]

Since the restoration of peace, consequent upon the raising of the blockade by Urquiza, the trade of Buenos Ayres has wonderfully improved, and not only as regards the exports of the staples of the Plate of which we have already spoken, but in the imports of all manner of European luxuries;[92] and the letters that continue to be received here by every mail represent the animation in commercial circles as most buoyant.[93] There is now the greatest reason to believe that this state of things will long continue, or at least not be terminated by civil war, notwithstanding the fact of Urquiza having been re-appointed President of all the provinces of the Confederation, with the exception of that of Buenos Ayres. Brazil, having effected the tranquillization of the Banda Oriental, must of course be equally solicitous for the peace of the whole region on either side of the Plate; and now that the Uruguay is thus effectually closed against the machinations of any of the agitators of the Confederation, it is to be presumed that the object for which this country[94] made such costly but abortive efforts will at length be accomplished, and in a great degree by the instrumentality that would have been employed there had judicious advice been followed, viz. by the firm mediation of Brazil.

While these pages were going through the press, there have occurred, or rather the recollection has been revived, of some circumstances that induce me to supply a few details I did not originally contemplate.

Though on a small scale, the preceding sketches of these remarkable men are excellent likenesses, in either of which the physiognomist and phrenologist may find it difficult to decipher attributes that should reconcile the requirements of science with the characteristics of the individual. First, as regards the elder of the two. Not only did Rosas incur unexampled odium by his cruelties in a sphere where what would be regarded as barbarity elsewhere is looked upon as laudable firmness of disposition, but he enjoyed a reputation for a caustic pleasantry and wit, such indeed as pertained to many of the most remarkable tyrants of all ages, in all parts of the world; though, perhaps, less so to those of Spanish idiosyncrasy than any others. As he has now been expelled, beyond the possibility of restoration, from the scene of his prolonged enormities, I should not seek to revive the recollection of them, or to disturb the quietude of his declining years in his retreat in this country by now adverting to them, were it not that some of the most singular, and, as it was alleged by many of his salaried partizans in Europe at the time, some of the most apocryphal, have suddenly been rehabilitated with indisputable truth, and surrounded with a degree of interest not unworthy of one of M. Dumas’ romances, under the circumstances named in the annexed paragraph, which appeared in the leading English journal while these pages were being prepared for the press, viz.:—

Two more of the ‘mashorqueros’ have been condemned and shot—a fate they so richly merited. One of them, it is said, confessed to having assassinated no less than 21 persons by the orders of Rosas, and 19 on his own account. It is said the Government is in possession of undoubted proof of the murder of the English family (Kidd), when Mr. Ouseley was in Buenos Ayres in 1845, by the orders of Rosas; and that it is their intention to place these proofs before the British Government. This, however, may be a work of supererogation, as it is believed here that Mr. Ouseley sent home ample proofs of the facts many years ago, as well as proofs of the deliberate murder of the midshipman Ross some time after.

In order to understand the meaning of the strange term used in the first line of the preceding quotation, it may be necessary for the information of the younger reader,—for during Rosas’ sway the phrase occurred too frequently to need explanation to any one who perused the revolting reports from the Plate—to supply an elucidation. This cannot be better done than in the words addressed by the Uruguayan Agent in this country, General O’Brien, to the then Secretary of Foreign Affairs, and present Prime Minister of England, in 1844, when seeking British assistance against the Buenos Ayrean oppressor of the Banda Oriental. The General said:—

The Masorcas, or secret affiliation, in support of Rosas’s government, derives its name from the inward stalk of the maize, when deprived of its grain, and has been used by the members of the clubs as an instrument of torture, of which your Lordship may form some idea when calling to mind the agonizing death inflicted upon Edward II. By the members of this club, assassination of those indisposed to the rule of Rosas was, audaciously in some instances, covertly in more, constantly exercised. Amongst the victims was Maya, the first benefactor of Rosas. The estates of all who fell by the hands of the band of Rosas, as well as of those who fled from his vengeance, were seized by him. His absolute command of Buenos Ayres, and his possession of the bank, enabled him to manage the finances of the country, and in 1842 gave to him an army of 10,000 men. Many were collected by fear, from the positive knowledge that, if they did not obey his summons, their fate would be similar to that of men who, having refused to join his troops, were dragged out of their beds at night by members of the Masorca Club, and in the very presence of their wives and children brutally put to death! Like as it happened with the early revolutionary armies of France, which had commissioners from the Convention, the soldiers of Rosas were accompanied by individuals of the Masorca Club, and they but too faithfully executed the commission confided to them, depriving the victims of Rosas’s vengeance or suspicion of life, amid tortures and cruelties that shock humanity but to hear of them. My Lord, I know of these tortures being inflicted. At the time that Oribe invaded the Banda Oriental, with the army and the Masorca commissioners of Rosas, I was residing on my estate in the country. I am aware of wretches being staked into the ground forty-eight hours before their heads were sawed, not cut, off;—of the lasso being flung over persons’ necks, and then drawn by a horse at full speed until life became extinct;—of spikes being driven into the mouths of human beings, and they, whilst living, thus nailed to trees.

Of the way in which such machinery was capable of being used by such a man as Rosas, we may form an idea from General O’Brien’s description of his antecedents:—

Rosas is known to me for five-and-twenty years. For his early education he was indebted to Maza, afterwards president of the Buenos Ayres congress. His calling in life was that of a ‘Capataz,’—or care-taker of the property of his relatives, the Anchorenas, and this brought him into constant intercourse with the wild Indian tribes of the Pampas. He ingratiated himself greatly with these tribes, for he not only conformed himself to their habits, but he also won the favour of their Caciques by presents, judiciously distributed amongst them. This was his state of life until 1820, when the influence of his kinsmen, the Anchorenas, obtained for him the lieutenant-colonelcy of the militia of the frontiers of the Indian territory. It was then, and not till then, that he appeared as a soldier. It was to aid Martin Rodriguez in a successful revolution; but once the victory of his friend had been secured, he again retired to the Pampas, put himself in contact with the Patagonian and Pampa Indians, and thus added to his popularity and his influence amongst that savage race of men. Rosas maintained his friendly relations with the Indians until the civil war, in 1829, in Buenos Ayres. In that war the President Dorrego was shot by Lavalle, and Rosas at once became the head of the party of Dorrego. With the death of Dorrego commence the calamities of that part of the world. The conduct, the bearing, and the demeanour of Rosas, were such as to obtain for him universal approbation. He gained in his favour the opinions of the good, whilst he was concocting schemes for winning the bad. He left the society of civilized men, and again repaired to the Indians. It was under his auspices, it has since been discovered, that the Indians were incited to attack the property of those who were civilized; and their hostility was especially directed by Rosas against all whom he believed would be capable or disposed to resist his attempts at possessing himself of despotic power. He established a camp, which had all the privileges of a sanctuary for every malefactor of every district, from Buenos Ayres to Upper Peru and the Cordilleras of the Andes. His protectorate of crime was not avowed, but it was actively exercised. It shielded the criminal from the punishment of man, and it won impunity by the perpetration of new atrocities upon all who were suspected by Rosas. Between 1829 and 1833, Rosas laid the foundation for that despotism which he has since exercised. The means he employed were worse even than the object itself, for they consisted in ‘the organization of a band of assassins.’ I assure your lordship there is not the slightest exaggeration in the phrase.

A French writer whom we shall again have occasion to quote at the conclusion of this chapter, in explanation of the causes which lead to that indifference to the lives of others which distinguishes the guachos, describes a characteristic trait of Rosas, which it is necessary to understand, viz.—

Every one who has visited the provinces of La Plata, and has written about General Rosas, has spoken of his energy, his patience, his cleverness, and his cruelty; but there is that in him which is paramount to all his other qualities, and which may be said to be the most prominent trait of his character, and that is his science in mendacity, his skill in working out, even to a most perfect system—a gigantic scheme of lying. It is an accomplishment in which he never has been equalled, and never can be surpassed. It would be difficult to convey an idea of the degree to which this faculty has been developed in the dictator of Buenos Ayres. The only explanation of his being permitted to exercise power for such a length of time, is to be found in this instrument of action, and which he has employed at all times and in all places with a perseverance that cannot but excite our wonder. Are the acts of his government denounced to the indignation of Europe, he audaciously denies them even to the very face of those who have been eye-witnesses to them. Is an accusation preferred against himself, he instantly turns it against his adversaries, and unceasingly pursues them with it before the entire world; and this he does by means of his journal printed in three languages, with which he inundates the American continent, and which his agents sedulously circulate in every part of Europe. Sustained by a dogged obstinacy which defies all obstacles, nothing can make him deviate from the course he has marked out for himself, and unscrupulous as to the means, he knows that time and patience will effect for him all that he desires. In this respect Rosas has been perfectly consistent. At the moment in which he consecrated in his own person a government essentially Unitarian, by effacing even the last traces of a federation, he compelled the population, upon pain of death, to cry out, ‘Long live the Federation!’ The same day, on which he substituted his own will for all the codes of the republic, he caused himself to be saluted with the title of ‘restorer of the laws!’ Whilst his portrait was publicly incensed in the churches, and received, by his order, divine honours, he invoked the vengeance of heaven upon the impious Unitarians who daily offend the Almighty. When, in fine, he let loose, in the broad day, into the streets of Buenos Ayres, bands of assassins, who massacred the population, he could not find tears enough to deplore ‘this unhappy popular ebullition, which made his paternal heart bleed!’ We do not believe that hypocrisy and audacity ever reached to such an extreme degree of shameless impudence. It was thus that Europe was misled as to the real character of the events that occurred, and that it accustomed itself to consider as the representative of peace, and as the protector of order, commerce, and civilization, the man who has never ceased for eighteen years to be on the banks of La Plata, the element of sanguinary wars, of crimes, and of violence of every kind.

Reverting to the case of the Kidd Family, their murder was one of the most atrocious on record in any age or any country, considering, first, the number, ages, and utter inoffensiveness of the victims; secondly, the rank, motive, and perfidiousness of the assassin; and, thirdly, the want of public virtue or spirit to resent it among the community in the midst of whom it was perpetrated, but who had been so subdued by such deeds amongst themselves as actually to affect indignation that strangers should name the culprit. The object of Rosas was, under the pretext of popular hatred of foreigners, on account of the policy that was being pursued by the British Government, to strike terror into the English residents in the province and city of Buenos Ayres; so that this terror, reacting on the diplomatist, or at least upon the English cabinet, which it is now notorious that it unfortunately did, might lead to a change in the course so obnoxious to the Dictator, because so fatal to his power of desolating the Uruguay. The Kidds were a highly respectable English, or rather Scotch, family who resided on an estancia a short distance from the city of Buenos Ayres, engaged, as they had been for several years, in the rearing of cattle, and neither interfering, nor being accused of interfering, in the political disputes of the country in the smallest possible degree. They were nine in number—from the aged grandfather, to the infant in arms. These were found one morning with their throats cut in the most barbarous and revolting, yet deliberate, manner; their bodies ranged along the floor; and, in the case of two young girls about fifteen or sixteen, and remarkable for the luxuriance of their hair, their tresses were brought round the head, and tied in fantastic knots in the gashes in their throats. That the object of this bloody business was not plunder was obvious from the circumstance of there not being a particle of property removed, or the least disturbance of the furniture, and also from the ferocious mockery of decency exhibited in the orderly adjustment of the bodies. Of course it made a vast sensation, and it was intended that it should do so.

But Rosas little calculated how completely the tables were about to be turned upon him, and how the engineer would be hoisted with his own petard. Every man, woman, and child in Buenos Ayres knew that the deed had been done by Rosas’ directions, and his ‘Mashorqueros’ brigands boasted of it as the crowning audacity of their master, and one that would soon bring the English minister to his senses. The blow, however, had hardly been struck when it recoiled upon the author. Sir W. G. Ouseley immediately offered the sum of ten thousand dollars for the detection of the murderers; and, inviting the coöperation of all who abhorred the crime to aid in augmenting the reward for the discovery of its perpetrators, carried the list to Rosas himself, and demanded that _he_ and his daughter, Donna Manueleta, should head it! Of course refusal was impossible, without an open avowal of his guilt, about which no one entertained, or could entertain, a doubt. Accordingly, forth there came, the following morning, and daily for a long time afterwards, the names of Rosas and the British minister, and of many British inhabitants, stigmatising the outrage, and invoking vengeance on the monsters who had effected it. But mark the result. Not only was there no detection, but not a single Buenos Ayrean citizen, or a single person in any way amenable to the power of Rosas, put down his name for a solitary rial, or was heard to whisper a syllable of desire that the assassins should be brought to justice. But there was no hope of anything of the kind, nor would there ever have been as long as Rosas remained in the position he was at the time of that villany, as well as the subsequent one alluded to in the extract, and which was more the prompting of baffled spite against the British minister, than with the least idea it could have had any effect of the kind intended in the direction where the Kidd massacre had so signally failed. But ‘murder, though it hath no tongue, will speak with most miraculous organs;’ and certainly a more strange one could hardly be than that of a ‘mashorquero’ implicating Rosas in one of the greatest enormities of this age, and while yet there is proof sufficient to make its truth apparent even to those whom the Dictator had persuaded he was the victim of foreign calumny. He tried this sanguinary strategy with considerable success, on the occasion of the French intervention in Buenos Ayrean affairs, in 1842, and likewise practised it against some British subjects, as in the case of the midshipman alluded to in the extract from the _Times_, and also in the still more ferocious one of the murder of Lieut. Wardlaw, the depositions of the boat’s crew, who saw him foully butchered, when landing on the Rosista territory under a flag of truce, having been published in full detail in the English papers soon afterwards.

But enough, and more than enough, of Rosas. Turning now to his former friend and sometime successor, General Urquiza. Although he has been expelled from Buenos Ayres, yet, in consequence of his having been again rechosen as President of the Confederation by all the other provinces, as well also as continuing in the position he had filled for many years as President of his native province of Entre Rios, there is little doubt that he is destined to play again a conspicuous part on the stage of South American politics, especially should there be a separation of the states into distinct and independent governments, or minor confederacies, as has frequently been proposed, and to which the position and vast extent of these regions point as a prudent course, particularly now that Buenos Ayres may be regarded as having virtually and practically ceased to be a component part of the Argentine republic. I have thought it may not be uninteresting to the English reader to furnish some particulars of this remarkable man, and for that purpose have subjoined a condensed translation of a little work that has attained a great circulation in South America. It is entitled ‘Seis Dias con el General Urquiza, que comprenden Muchas Noticias Sobre su Persona. El esclarcie miento de hechos importantes. Y Algunos Datos Sobre la Situacion Actual de la Provincia de Entre-Rios.’ It will be seen that it is the production of a great admirer of Urquiza, and on that score will be received with due qualification, which must be further extended to the style of the writer, whose grandiloquent idiom has been preserved with some closeness in the translation. The principal reason, however, for giving the annexed data is because of the picture afforded of the private life of a South American chief, and, incidentally, of society in portions of that country hitherto undescribed by English travellers. I will only preface these memoranda by saying that Urquiza is now about 54 years of age, abstains from wine and tobacco, and though a great admirer of beauty is still a bachelor. Since 1840 he has been president of Entre Rios, and sided with Rosas during the civil war of Lavellé and Rivera, the latter of whom he routed at the battle of Inda Muerta, in 1846. At last perceiving that the interest of his own state was highly prejudiced by the conduct of Rosas in excluding it from all access to the ocean, he seized the opportunity when Rosas annually resigned the presidency of the Confederation to accept such resignation, thereby depriving the dictator of the legal authority longer to represent and conduct the foreign relations of the Confederation. He then joined Brazil in driving Rosas and Oribe out of the Uruguay, and subsequently out of Buenos Ayres, of which he became president, and was himself in turn ejected from that city and state, under the circumstances already detailed. In the translation the use of the first personal pronoun has been retained:

SIX DAYS WITH GENERAL URQUIZA.

I arrived at the General’s residence, which is eighteen leagues from the village of Gualeguachú, on the left bank of the river of that name; and, to my surprise, about that magnificent country house, where I expected to find a military encampment, full of officers, soldiers, and men in the service of the renowned champion of Entre-Rios, a profound silence reigned, interrupted only by the blows of the axe of a rustic, who was working upon some trees. I alighted, and entered the house. At the door of one of the apartments stood a man whom I at once recognized as the General, having seen him in the Oriental Republic twenty years before. I knew him because his visage was not changed, and not because his dress manifested anything by which I might recognise him as the supreme chief of the province of Entre-Rios. I took off my hat, but he immediately bade me follow him, and put his hand on the neck of a mastiff, which was lying at his feet. This animal is the famous Purvis,[95] the only sentinel and companion General Urquiza has in a spacious edifice in which five hundred persons can accommodate themselves. His only attendants are an old man who serves him, and a coloured woman who attends to the apartments, where they receive the persons who daily arrive to see the General, some in the public service, but the greater part with private objects. Some other men have occupations in the house, in the labours of his beautiful garden, and in the indispensable services of a country mansion, where there reign order and the most admirable economy. The General made me sit down, and asked me some questions, which inspired me with confidence, at the same that his presence imposed respect. He was dressed rather negligently, covered with a light poncho of the finest vicuna, and wearing a hat of white cloth, with a coloured ribbon, which is distinctive of the Entre-Riano army. I saw him in the same dress all the time that I was with him. He has very little beard, nor does he wear the moustache, so general among the military, and still worn by the peasants; but he does not lose thereby the aspect of a warrior. He is of a very robust constitution, has a broad and extremely prominent chest, and is altogether a remarkably well-formed man. His face preserves all the freshness of youth, although, in my judgment, he must have been born at the commencement of the century. He is of moderate stature, and slightly inclined to corpulence. His complexion is fair, but its bloom has been somewhat darkened by the sun during his military career. All his features are full of expression. His mouth is small, his teeth good, his eyes of a clear grey colour, and full of fire and vivacity. They are unsteady when he speaks, fixing themselves on every object around him, especially when he refers to any act of extreme severity. His hair is black, and begins to fall off his clear unwrinkled forehead. His manners are frank, jovial, and cheerful, so that he predisposes in his favour all who approach him.

‘Why,’ he inquired, after a brief pause, ‘have you come to this country, after having been associated with the foreigners, who have deceived you all, and prolonged a war which ought to have been by this time concluded?’ ‘It is true, sir,’ I replied, ‘but past events linked themselves by degrees, and the torrent of successes has led us’—‘Stop! you must not say that the torrent of successes has precipitated it; you must say that it deceived you, for men of ideas and education do not permit themselves to be led with the multitude, who observe nothing. The Monte Videans have not comprehended their own interests; they ought long since to have settled that unfortunate question, in which so much blood has been shed, and I am persuaded, if such were the case, things would go on well, and the Orientals would not see their country destroyed.’

With these words, he rose, and went out, leaving me quite alone; so I began my toilette, and had the comb in my hand when he returned. ‘You do well to adorn yourself, because you are so ugly,’ said he, in so affable and familiar a tone that it inspired me with complete confidence, for I was already aware that such is his manner when he receives a person with pleasure and good-will. I replied that, at least, I had not a crooked nose, a phrase which General Urquiza often uses, and applies to military cowards and men of small mental capacity. It is the familiar expression which he employs to manifest the contempt which a person deserves from him. Dinner was now announced, and he invited those who were present to dine with him. His table is plain, but abundant; he eats very little meat, and does not drink wine or any kind of liquors; neither does he smoke or take snuff. His principal food, during the six days that I was with him, was roast chicken; at supper he eats very little, and chiefly pastry, with the object, as he says, of taking a little water. After dinner, he remains long at the table, and talks of the events of his youth, particularly of the period when, as representative of the people, he manifested his firmness in opposing anarchy, and had to endure a thousand vicissitudes, by which his life was often in danger, having once been ordered to be shot, and owed his escape to providential causes. He speaks very often of recent events, which he details with so much exactitude that he does not forget the most trifling incident. He never forgets the name or the features of any person he has once seen. He relates the events of the war with an impartiality which does him honour, since he has been so conspicuous an actor in many of them. ‘Do not believe,’ he said to me one day, ‘that I fail to recognise the tendencies of the political parties who have fought for so long a time. On both sides there have been errors, but the Monte Videans have lost by committing themselves to the drowsiness brought on by foreign intervention, and those foreigners have not comprehended what would be beneficial to their interests; in my judgment, they have done the contrary of what they ought to have done. There was that unfortunate General Lavalle, whom I have liked, notwithstanding that he sullied the lustre of his services by serving under the Governor Dorrego; he ruined himself by wishing to combat me without understanding the revolution. I wished to draw him from the way of his destruction, and to bring him to Entre-Rios, for he was a virtuous man; but he refused my offers, because his political friends at that moment surrounded him. I did all I could for him, but my duty was to conquer him. I detested the disloyalty of some of his officers, who treacherously abandoned him, dividing one part of his army from the other, after the battle of Tucuman, and who came to Corrientes, passing through the Great Chaco. There is in Entre-Rios an officer who was faithful, who did not abandon him after the defeat of Famalla, and who accompanied him until his death. This individual is commendable for his loyalty, and I assure you that I esteem him. The Monte Videans have much reproached me for the death of Carlos Paz, whom, after the battle of Vences, I made a prisoner, and sent to be shot; but he deserved death, for he was a traitor, who was betraying the Madariagas, and afterwards betrayed me. He placed himself in communication with me, supplying me with important information as to the state of the Corrientine army, and certainly he was not deceiving me. He did more still; he assured me that he would not make use of the artillery that he was commanding, if it arrived at the commencement of a battle. But he probably repented his perfidy, for he ceased all correspondence with me, and on the day of the battle, confiding in the superiority of the forces of Madariaga, and in the elements of defence which they had concentrated in the formidable position of the potrero of Vences, the artillery which he was commanding opened a deadly fire upon my infantry. Colonel Saavedra also perished after the victory: the unhappy man, when he already had in his hands the guarantees which I had sent him, was surprised by a force of Corrientines, whose officer beheaded him. I regret his death, but his imprudence deserved it. Thus it is that my enemies, without investigating the circumstances of the deeds, represent me as a terrible man, and write a thousand injurious censures against me.’

On another occasion, the General, speaking of the press of Monte Video, referred to the time when Rivera Indarte used to conduct the ‘National,’ and reproved the mean publications and immoral doctrines of that epoch. ‘In the battle of Pago Largo,’ said he, ‘Baron Astrada met with his death, and, according to my enemies, I was the cause of it, and likewise of that which was done to his corpse—stripping off part of the skin of the body; and it was also published in Monte Video that I made a horsecloth of it, and presented it to General Rosas. Abominable lie! Of that skin nothing has been made, for it is not long since that it was preserved in Gualeguachú, in the house of D. N., in the wardrobe. Baron Astrada died in Pago Largo, as many others died, in the retreat, and the skin was drawn off from the neck to the shoulders, the first notice of which was given to me by M. Asumbrulla, a Brazilian, who was commissioned by General Bentos Gonzalez, a relative of General Echague, who was with me on the second or third day of the battle. There was a young soldier passing near us, at the sight of whom the Brazilian exclaimed, “See that; see that.” I fixed my eyes on the soldier, but could not recognize in him anything that should call forth the exclamation, until the Brazilian said to me, “The thing which that soldier carries hanging from the neck of his horse is the skin of the Governor of Corrientes.” I called the soldier immediately, to inform myself of the deed.’ The General was going to continue this narration, when a peasant entered. ‘What a strange coincidence,’ said the General; ‘here you see him who drew off the skin of Baron Astrada. Who drew off the skin of the Governor of Corrientes?’ he enquired. ‘I, sir,’ replied the peasant. ‘And who commanded you to do it?’ ‘I say no more, sir.’ ‘And what did I tell you when I called you to ask what it was you carried on the neck of your horse?’ ‘That I could not deny that I was an assassin, and that I would have been rewarded by being shot, but that I was very young.’ ‘And why did you declare in the Banda Oriental that I had commanded the act?’ ‘Because General Nunez, who then served with Rivera, told me that unless I declared that it was your Excellency who had stripped the skin off the Governor of Corrientes, I should be shot; and because I did not wish to die, I told an untruth, and said that your Excellency had commanded me.’ ‘And why did you declare the same afterwards in Monte Video?’ ‘Because I apprehended that something would happen to me.’ ‘Well,’ said the General, addressing himself to me, ‘you may now perceive that this boy is a knave, who has been amongst the uncultivated Unionites until he implored my pardon, and I granted it. You now know the history of a deed which has been attributed to me, when I have not had the slightest part in it. It has also been written that I commanded all the boys who were made prisoners at Pago Largo to be destroyed. This is false: the prisoners whom we made in that victory were not sacrificed, although it is true that some were executed by the order which I gave, for which I had just and powerful reasons. After the defeat, the infantry of the Corrientines retired, but I followed them with the cavalry that I was commanding, for Don Pascual Echague was then general-in-chief. I was commencing active hostilities in the retreat, when, seeing themselves lost, they wished to surrender, but asked for guarantees before they laid down their arms. I immediately sent them to them, but the officer who carried them was killed by the very men who wished to capitulate. The second time the same thing was done, and I then gave more rigorous orders. They began to separate, and to seek the mountains near hand, but all were made prisoners, and consequently I had to chastise the perfidy. The investigation made resulted in the discovery of those who were the authors of the murders, and those only I commanded to be shot. This is the truth; and if my enemies and the Monte Videans have said to the contrary, and have written slanders against me, I look upon them with scorn. There has been here one of those who in Monte Video was a fabricator of impostures, who used to say that I was a Gaucho, and my mother a Chinese woman. I have had him in my presence, and I have asked him if I really was a Gaucho, and why he was guilty of such falsehoods; and, as is natural, he found himself confounded, without knowing what to say in reply. This individual is now in Entre-Rios, and has no reason to repent having come, for I have done something for him, as I do for all who come to this country.’

After this conversation, the General retired, and I remained alone, meditating upon what I had heard. The account which he had given me of the unfortunate Baron Astrada was to me interesting, for it removed from my mind the error under which I was labouring until that moment, and I saw with satisfaction General Urquiza exonerated from an atrocious act.

When General Urquiza speaks of deeds such as those which I have here detailed, he gives to his voice an accent, and to his action an expression, so vivid, that it impresses on his words the seal of truth, and manifests, to whoever observes him, that he is not one of those men who, because they have power, hold in contempt the judgment of their cotemporaries. General Urquiza likes to preserve a good reputation, and has respect for public opinion. He prefers to govern from retirement to being surrounded by the trophies of his victories and the insignia of his power. Morality and education are his special care, and a magnificent edifice is being erected under his directions, to be called the Entre-Riano College. Nothing proves more completely that the tendencies of General Urquiza are towards progress than the interest which he takes in the education of the people.

Education is completely disseminated, and the most convenient system for accelerating the progress of early instruction has been adopted. There is no country district which has not a school sustained by the treasury of the province, to which fathers are under the obligation of sending their sons. These establishments are independent of those that are in all the towns, and are under the immediate supervision of the local magistrates. Their purpose is the instruction of those children whose parents live in the scattered villages, far away from the towns. With this system there will, in a short time, be few persons destitute of the rudiments of education.

‘Entre-Rios,’ said General Urquiza one day, ‘receives all men, whatever may be their origin, their opinions, and their political antecedents; they will be respected, and even favoured, if their tendencies are towards goodness, and they do not interfere in our affairs. I wish from those who come to this land only respect for the established authorities, and the observance of the laws. The Unionites, French, English, all may come to Entre-Rios, to pass through our villages, to cross over our country in all directions, and to establish themselves where they wish, in the assurance that they will not hear a single voice raised against them which might cause the slightest offence. I wish to be at peace with all, and will provoke no one; but he that incites me will find me disposed to fight in defence of my country. The Entre-Riano army is valiant, and has proved itself capable of great things, and I have great confidence in its valour and its enthusiasm.’

The army of Entre-Rios embraces from nine to ten thousand men of the three arms, but its principal force consists in the cavalry. This is composed of eleven divisions, corresponding to the departments into which the province is divided, which, although I have no data upon the extent of the territory of Entre-Rios, ought, I think, to comprise a little more or less than 5,000 square leagues. The cavalry, in times of peace, is completely liberated, and a portion is employed in the police of the departments. When the army returns from any campaign, it lays down its arms and disbands, with the understanding that, at the slightest rumour of a military summons, they are to present themselves with their uniforms, and the cavalry with their horses. It is an undoubted fact that, in six or seven days after the issue of the first order from the General’s quarters, for the reunion of the army, it can be completely reunited, armed, clothed, perfectly equipped, and in readiness to march, so that General Urquiza, with the Entre-Riano army, can be in front of the city of Monte Video in twenty or twenty-two days after issuing the first orders for its reunion, notwithstanding the difficulties presented by the majestic river Uruguay. With such troops it is not strange that General Urquiza should have obtained such signal victories.

‘The battle of Vences,’ said the General, ‘is an affair which does great honour to the Entre-Riano army, which had to combat powerful enemies, and yet penetrated to where the Corrientines were not expecting it. They were astonished and terrified at the courage of my soldiers, who penetrated through immense morasses and difficulties which the enemies placed in their way; and I can assure you that I myself was astonished by the magnitude of the dangers which we encountered, and the obstacles which we overcame. This daring gave us the victory, as the army of Madariaga was superior to mine in its number, and particularly in infantry and artillery.’ On another occasion, the General entertained me with interesting details of the campaign in the Oriental Republic, in which he manifested a degree of activity and skill which has done him great credit, for, though he had to combat in a land unknown to him, the victory was his, and was a work exclusively of his own inspiration. These details convince me that the General is a man of great penetration, and of elevated capacity, so that he has been known to foresee many events which have prolonged the war, and upon which he looks as the origin of many evils.

‘I have the satisfaction of knowing,’ he observed, ‘that the army of Entre-Rios has been a model of morality and subordination, and that there have been few complaints of it. I have acted throughout from conviction, and the public accounts will show that I have not taken a single dollar for my own use, not even the pay to which my rank of general entitled me. On the contrary, the treasury of the province is indebted to me in the sum of 30,000 dollars, the amount of debts contracted in the public service, and which I have yet to pay. From the Oriental country I have brought nothing but compromises and this dog,’ pointing to the mastiff, Purvis, which was lying at his feet. ‘It is true he is a wicked animal, for he respects no one but me, and even those who feed him are not certain that he will not leave his food to bite them; but in me he seems to recognize a certain superiority. He has his history and his instincts which I cannot comprehend, and which no one will ever be able to explain. He belonged to Colonel Galazza, but suddenly attached himself to me, and would not be driven away. Seeing the pertinacity with which he persisted in following me, I allowed him to remain, and he has never left me since, running by the side of my horse throughout the campaigns of the Banda Oriental and Corrientes. He manifests no terror under fire, and when struck by a spent cannon-ball at India Muerto, and hurled several yards from me, he quickly recovered his legs, and resumed his post by my side!’

The superficial character of Entre Rios being that of an extensive plain, watered by numerous rivers, and affording excellent and abundant pasture for cattle, not equal to that of the beautiful territory of the Oriental republic, but superior to that of the province of Buenos Ayres, General Urquiza is so sensible of the advantage of promoting the breeding of cattle that he will not permit the killing of cows; but this prohibition is not absolute, depending on the number belonging to each individual; and while far from being a real grievance to the land-owners, it will tend to greatly increase the wealth and importance of the country. This is the general’s great aim, his whole policy being directed to the development of the natural resources of the country.

The frequent allusions in the foregoing to the sanguinary practices pursued by rival chiefs against each other suggests the desirability of endeavouring to account for the creation and growth of the disposition to which such ferocity is attributable. We cannot do better than quote the words of M. Chevalier de St. Robert, a Frenchman, officially engaged in the affairs of the Plate, who, in his pamphlet, entitled _Le General Rosas et la Question de la Plata_, and translated by M’Cabe, the late Acting Consul-General for the Uruguay in London, gives probably the best account anywhere to be met with of life in the wilds, in this region of the world, and of the mode in which such life affects humanity in the cities afterwards. He says:—

The population of the Pampas have a peculiar physiognomy, such as is to be found in no other part of the world. They exhibit the instincts and the faculties which the desert every where developes, but still they have not those traits which elsewhere particularise a pastoral or a warlike tribe. The Arab, who dwells or wanders in the deserts of Asia, is but a fraction of that great Mahommedan society that dwells in cities. The tribe coincides with society in many things, it has the same creed, the same obedience to religious dogmas, and preserves every where the same traditional organization. There is nothing like this to be found in the Pampas. In the bosom of those immense plains, which extend from Salta to the Cordilleras, that is, over a space of more than seven hundred leagues, there are to be found neither distinct castes, nor tribes, nor creeds, nor even that which may be properly called a nation. There is nothing to be found but _estançias_ (farms) scattered here and there, which form so many petty republics, isolated from the rest of the world, living by themselves, and separated from each other by the desert. Alone in the midst of those over whom he is a complete master, the _estanciero_ is out of every kind of society whatsoever, with no other law than that of force, with no other rules to guide him but those that are self-imposed, and with no other motive to influence him than his own caprice. There is nothing to disturb his repose, to dispute his power, or interfere with his tranquillity except the tiger that may lurk about his grounds, or the wild Indians that may occasionally make a hostile incursion on his domains. His children and his domestics, _gauchos_ like himself, pass the same sort of life, that is to say, without ambition, without desires, and without any species of agricultural labour. All they have to do is to mark and to kill, at certain periods, the herds of oxen and flocks of sheep which constitute the fortune of the _estanciero_, and that satisfy the wants of all. Purely carnivorous, the gaucho’s only food consists of flesh and water—bread and spirituous liquors are as much unknown to him as the simplest elements of social life. In a country in which the only wealth of the inhabitants arises from the incessant destruction of innumerable flocks, it can be easily understood how their sanguinary occupation must tend to obliterate every sentiment of pity, and induce an indifference to the perpetration of acts of cruelty. The readiness to shed blood—a ferocity which is at the same time obdurate and brutal—constitutes the prominent feature in the character of the pure _gaucho_. The first instrument that the infantile hand of the gaucho grasps is the knife—the first things that attract his attention as a child, are the pouring out of blood, and the palpitating flesh of expiring animals. From his earliest years, as soon as he is able to walk, he is taught how he may with the greatest skill approach the living beast, hough it, and if he has the strength, kill it. Such are the sports of his childhood—he pursues them ardently, and amid the approving smiles of his family. As soon as he acquires sufficient strength, he takes part in the labours of the estancia; they are the sole arts he has to study, and he concentrates all his intellectual powers in mastering them. From that time forth he arms himself with a large knife, and for a single moment of his life he never parts with it. It is to his hand an additional limb—he makes use of it always, in all cases, in every circumstance, and constantly with wonderful skill and address. The same knife that in the morning had been used to slaughter a bullock, or to kill a tiger, aids him in the day time to cut his dinner, and at night to carve out a skin tent, or else to repair his saddle, or to mend his mandoline. With the gaucho the knife is often used as an argument in support of his opinions. In the midst of a conversation apparently carried on in amity, the formidable knife glitters on a sudden in the hands of one of the speakers, the _ponchos_ are rolled around the left arm, and a conflict commences. Soon deep gashes are seen on the face, the blood gushes forth, and not unfrequently one of the combatants falls lifeless to the earth; but no one thinks of interfering with the combat, and when it is over the conversation is resumed as if nothing extraordinary had occurred. No person is disturbed by it—not even the women, who remain as cold unmoved spectators of the affray! It may easily be surmised what sort of persons they must be, of which such a scene is but a specimen of their domestic manners. Thus the savage education of the estancia produces in the gaucho a complete indifference as to human life, by familiarizing him from his most tender years to the contemplation of a violent death, whether it is that he inflicts it on another or receives it himself. He lifts his knife against a man with the same indifference that he strikes down a bullock: the idea which everywhere else attaches to the crime of homicide does not exist in his mind; for in slaying another he yields not less to habit than to the impulse of his wild and barbarous nature. If, perchance, a murder of this kind is committed so close to a town that there is reason to apprehend the pursuit of justice, every one is eager to favour the flight of the guilty person. The fleetest horse is at his service, and he departs certain to find wherever he goes the favour and sympathy of all. Then, with that marvellous instinct which is common to all the savage races, he feels no hesitation in venturing into the numerous plains of the pampas. Alone, in the midst of a boundless desert, and in which the eye strains itself in vain to discover a boundary, he advances without the slightest feeling of uneasiness—he does so watching the course of the stars, listening to the winds, watching, interrogating, discovering the cause of the slightest noise that reaches his ears, and he at length arrives at the place he sought, without ever straying for it, even for a moment. The _lasso_ which is rolled around his horse’s neck: the _bolas_ suspended to his saddle, and the inseparable knife suffice to assure him food, and to secure him against every danger—even against the tiger. When he is hungry, he selects one out of the herd of beeves that cover the plain, pursues it, _lassos_ it, kills it, cuts out of it a piece of flesh, which he eats raw, or cooks, and thus refreshes himself for the journey of the following day. If murder be a common incident in the life of a gaucho, it often also becomes the means to him of emerging from obscurity, and of obtaining renown amongst his associates. When a gaucho has rendered himself remarkable by his audacity and address in single combats, companions gather around him, and he soon finds himself at the head of a considerable party. He ‘commences a campaign,’ sets himself in open defiance to the laws, and in a short time acquires a celebrity which rallies a crowd about him.

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