CHAPTER XIV

THE RIVER PLATE AND THE PAMPAS

ARGENTINA, URUGUAY AND PARAGUAY

Of comparatively recent times there has arisen, in the temperate zone of South America, facing upon the Atlantic seaboard, a city which has rapidly become a centre of great wealth and an emporium of world trade, with a population greater than that of any other metropolis of Latin America, and with an ebb and flow of modern life and activity such as we have been prone to associate with the Anglo-Saxon rather than the Spanish development of American civilization.

Such is this city of Buenos Ayres, which we now approach; the capital of the huge territory of the Republic of Argentina, which, having its northern boundary above the Tropic of Capricorn, extends for two thousand miles towards the frigid region above Cape Horn.

It is with no feelings of envy that we call to mind the fact that this enormous and potential region might have formed part of the British Empire; a Canada in South America. For such might have been its destiny if General Beresford, in 1806, had not been forced to surrender, after obtaining possession of Buenos Ayres, and if General Whitelocke, later, had not been forced to capitulate before the organized opposition of the colonists, when Spain and France were pitted against Great Britain.

The Republic of Argentina is a country so enormous and diversified that to attempt here to give anything but the merest descriptive outlines would be futile. But let us endeavour to obtain at least a slight idea of its form and configuration.

We shall bear in mind that the country consists broadly of four topographical divisions. First is the land of the Pampas, at which we have already glanced. Second we may speak of the great plains and broken, and in part forested, deserts, of what is termed the Gran Chaco, forming that curious northern, undeveloped part of Argentina, bounded by Paraguay on the one hand and the Bolivian Andes on the other. Third we have the broken Andine region, abutting upon Bolivia and running south to the frontiers of Chile. Fourth is the vast territory of Patagonia, with the Chilean Andes on its west; a region occupying all the great narrowing part of the continent to the frigid south.

Argentina, as it is known to travel, commerce and history, is the Argentina of the Pampa. Herein lies its civilization, its great towns, its railway network, the things by which it lives.

The Pampa is a vast storehouse of food, and in some respects it does not lack beauty. Much of it is a dead level, but it has its elevations (both materially and metaphorically). It has, too, its great scourges of Nature, in the droughts which at times have ruined its industries, and which must inevitably have their periods of visitation; in the other plagues, as of the devastating locust, for which doubtless science will produce remedy or extirpation. The tempestuous winds which blow across it are at times another scourge, and the dust storms may often cause the dweller to ask whether the plagues of Egypt shall still be visited upon it! As to the droughts, we do not know if these are not extending, just as it may be that the snowfields of the Andes are diminishing, as if threatening some slow drying-up of the fountains of heaven here.

The early folk of these great plains were not of a meek and humble character, such as the Spaniards so often encountered. They were _Indios bravos_; fighters and stubborn savages, implacably hostile. Nevertheless, they gave way in time, as destiny had decreed they should.

Perhaps the things of the animal world, in its commercial sense, might be taken as most remarkable here. From few mares and stallions brought in by the men of Spain, vast equine droves, half wild, appeared with marvellous rapidity, and the later breeds multiplied similarly. It was a horseless land before the white man came. To-day a horseman pursuing his way over the vast plain is a very prominent object against the skyline. There was no ox or cow, but to-day the teeming herds in their millions--though not unnumbered--have built, through commerce, through the products of their hides and bodies, the palaces and boulevards of Buenos Ayres and its sister cities, the homes of the millionaires of this new American nation; a land where the progenitors of both man and beast first humbly crossed from old Europe, and now pour forth their riches thereto.

How far this wealth shall still increase we do not know. It may be that the limit of the pastoral industry in the Argentine Pampas has been reached or approached. The herds do not now greatly increase, since their census in 1908, of nearly thirty million head of cattle. Nature and man both take a heavy toll, the one in adverse climatic conditions, the other in waste and carelessness, as if the prodigality of the fruits of the earth were inexhaustible. On the great ranges, the cattle exist almost automatically, bearing the scorching sun or piercing wind; and in the droughts, as we pass thereover, the vision will be shocked by a lamentable spectacle of dying or rotting cattle on every hand. They are too numerous; they cannot be fed or watered, or buried when they succumb. Dust, flies and mummified bodies around offend the traveller here, and it is doubtful if man has a right to bring to being animals in such profusion that Nature cannot support them.

Possibly, in the future, better quality and lesser quantity will be the methods forced upon the cattle owners here. There is, too, a tendency towards smaller cattle ranges and perhaps more "intensive" methods, and what may be called "cattle feudalism" may beneficially suffer some modification. Irrigation, again, brings about a more varied production.

Cold storage and the making of meat extracts are, of course, one of the primary features of the cattle industry.

The enormous wheat-plains are the next source of wealth here, and other lands have cause to be grateful for both the wheat and the meat of Argentina. But the yield is comparatively low, being but twelve to thirteen bushels to the acre, for methods of cultivation are often crude.

The Argentine farmer is greatly dependent upon his wheat and maize, and if his cereal crop fails he has few resources to tide him over the bad time. The resources of Argentina in cereals are very great, and it has been calculated that there are 175 million acres of land available for their cultivation. Argentina provides a great part of the world's supply of maize, perhaps half, but in times of drought this falls very seriously.

Social conditions on the Pampa will doubtless become modified in the future. There is too great a contrast--for a democratic or republican country--in the palatial home of the rich _estanciero_ and those of the labourer. Again, the arriving immigrant, upon whom Argentina is so much dependent for labour, being unable often to obtain land for himself in this enormous country, emigrates again, and during some years half of their numbers go away elsewhere. It would seem that the Government is awake to this condition, although the remedy is slow.

The great plains of the Chaco may, in the future, bring to being another important branch of agriculture, in the growing of cotton, an industry already successfully implanted in this often fertile belt, whose rich black soils have been likened to those of the Mississippi Valley. This region might add much to the world's wealth in cotton production, but here again the question of labour is paramount.

But let us take our further way across these oceans of the Pampa, until the far line of the Andes rises on our horizon.

We may leave Buenos Ayres early and reach Rosario in the afternoon, the train making its way over a country flat as a table, with fields of wheat or maize, or pasture lands; with here and there a white-washed house and a few trees around it: trees of that variety which the all-devouring locust will not attack, for such a species there is. Perhaps the locusts are upon us, swarming in at the window of the carriage, where the native traveller crushes them vindictively. They may be as thick in the air as the flakes of a snowstorm.

On the farms, one method of getting rid of the locusts is by creating an infernal din by the beating of pots and pans, when they retreat to the lands of a neighbor! Where do they come from? The Gran Chaco has been accused of being their breeding-ground and point of departure, but whatever their origin, they are a veritable destructive plague, destroying perhaps in a few hours wide areas of smiling crops and fruitful gardens.

We reach Mendoza, beautifully situated, and watered by streams which flow from the Andes, giving life to many a fruitful sugar-cane plantation and vineyard, where under irrigation scientifically practised, from dams and conduits, the fertile soil yields up wealth in its most delightful forms, wealth of sugar, of wine, of deep pastures of alfalfa. Here, indeed, is the California of Argentina, on the slopes of the Andes, with Mendoza as its pleasing metropolis.

To the north lies Tucuman, famous in still greater degree for its production of sugar, with over thirty factories making sugar and alcohol, and yielding great wealth to their owners.

Here, however, if we are disposed to be critical, we shall point to the unlovely barracks of the labourers who are instrumental in producing this wealth. In Argentina, unfortunately, agricultural labour is little protected by the law, and contrasts are often painful. However, the climate at least is kind.

Leaving this region we shall traverse belts of dusty wilderness, which constitute part of Argentina--deserts that extend to the Andes. In this, the _Arabia Deserta_ of South America, caravans in olden times, in the Colonial period, often perished and left no trace. The thirst, the dust, the savage Indian, swallowed them up. Spain ordered that all trade should pass this way, through Tucuman and Salta, the route from Peru. It was in the town hall of Tucuman town that Independence from Spain was first pronounced.

The railway system in this part of South America pushes its conquering path westwards, and through Juyjuy--a name of difficult pronunciation for the uninitiated[37]--and beyond we may reach the railways of Bolivia, and so the Andes.

But the great thoroughfare of travel is the Trans-Andine Railway, a monumental work of the engineer, which, after many delays, pierced the Andes and gave means of access to Chile and the Pacific coast. We may have reached Rosario by the great highway of the river. The city is the outlet to a rich productive region, and stands on the eastern margin of the great Pampas. Rosario is, in the main, a commercial centre, whence many products of Northern Argentina are embarked on the full-flowing Paraná which washes its quays. Sacks of wheat, bales of hay, cattle and all their products, bags of sugar, maize in large quantities, and _quebracho_ extract, are the principal of these exports. It reflects, or indeed in part gives rise to, the activities of Buenos Ayres, to which it comes second in importance as regards size and commerce.

Upon the site of Rosario, until the middle of last century, but a small village stood, founded in 1730, where now the straight cross-streets, in chess-board regularity, of the modern town are laid out, together with a handsome boulevard lined with residences, pleasingly interspersed with turf and trees, and many public buildings.

Paraná, which we reach in our further voyage upstream, is also classed as a seaport, notwithstanding that it is more than 600 miles from the open sea. Yonder ferry boats gives access to Santa Fé, on the opposite side of the river, a town of more ancient character, founded by the Spanish in 1573 as a halting-place on the voyage to Asuncion.

Paraná stands well above and some distance from the river, and is the capital of the rich province of Entre Rios, over whose territory the agriculturist or economist may well cast a satisfactory glance. The name of this province in English signifies "between the rivers"; descriptive of the region bounded on the one side by the waterway we have ascended, and on the other by the Uruguay River. This is the "Mesopotamia" of Argentina, otherwise known as the "garden of Argentina," from its well-watered and fertile nature, its pastoral and agricultural occupations, its products of fruits and corn, its woods and its mild and healthy climate. Had this province devoted more energy to its better development materially and morally, and less to political conflict and revolutionary strife, its picturesque designation would be more amply justified, but it has ever been one of the most turbulent districts in the Argentine confederation. Now, its prosperity has resulted in more settled conditions.

Our way now lies still farther up this great waterway, to the romantic land of Paraguay, for such this inland country has often been designated.

We have already seen that Asuncion is reached by steamer, and this was, indeed, until a few years ago, when the railway was built, with a train-ferry, the only means of reaching the Paraguayan capital.

"He who can afford time for an up-river journey from Buenos Ayres to Asuncion will find the experience as instructive as anything else of the kind throughout South America. It is true that the flat pastures which go to make up the earlier stretches of the landscape lack a good deal from the picturesque point of view. But it is this very distribution of the scenery which adds to the charm of the trip, for, as the sub-tropical regions begin to exert their influence, and as the banks approach each other more nearly, the charm of the surroundings increases steadily.

"After a certain point has been reached there are very few hours or dozens of miles which are not productive of some new feature or other to captivate the eye of the traveller. But not until that famous wheat centre, the Argentine town of Rosario, has been reached does this phase of the journey begin. There for the first time the flat, reed-covered banks of the river fall away, to give place to definite _barrancas_, or cliffs, that boldly mark the edge of the great stream. When the grain-shoots and line of moored steamers that mark this thriving town have been passed, the sandstone cliff continues at intervals on alternate banks; the vivid scarlet of the ceibo-tree becomes more frequent; and the clumps of camelota, the floating water hyacinth, tend to increase in size. The districts, moreover, are obeying one of the primal laws of the world in that, as the blossoms, birds and butterflies increase in brilliancy, so does the human complexion tend to grow duskier. But here this applies only to the humbler people on the banks and to the fisherfolk and watermen who sit in their crude dugout canoes. The more important persons continue white-skinned, the sole distinction between them and their brethren of the lower reaches of the river being that they now begin to form the aristocracy of the land instead of standing as the mere representatives of the wealthier classes.

"When the roofs and parks and gardens of Paraná have been passed and the buildings of Colastiné, the river port of Santa Fé, have been left behind, the warmer airs already give a foretaste of what is to come farther to the north. All this time the vegetation has been increasing on the banks. The wide stretches of open, treeless pastures have long ago fallen away. The country where the cattle graze is now pleasantly interspersed with clumps of indigenous trees, and the line of the banks is obscured in parts by dense clusters of verdure, in which the palms begin to occupy a more and more important space.

"Presently on the right bank of the river, and thus to the left of the steamer's bow, appears that curious low-lying country of the Chaco, the alternate forests, swamps and pastures that extend from here northwards through the entire length of Paraguay and well into Bolivia on the other side. There are orchids hanging up aloft among the foliage now, and doubtless a monkey or two among the denser clumps of woodland. But these pioneer creatures of the Tropics to the north are rare enough here, and in any case are invisible. Their presence thus is generally unsuspected by the newcomer, which is not the case with the mosquitoes and those clouds of other _bichos_, whose numbers increase in the most amazing fashion with almost every hour that goes by.

"Indeed, did one judge of the winged pests of these neighbourhoods by the myriads which abound above the fervid waters, the outlook would be sufficiently unpromising even to the most mosquito-hardened of men. The song of this plague is continuous of an evening now, and when the daylight has vanished in the abrupt fashion in which it is wont to fade away in these latitudes, the electric globes of the steamer are all but obscured by the insects that dance about them so thickly as to resemble dense clouds of smoke that roll in confused masses about a half-seen flame! Fortunately, these river reaches--most beloved of all the haunts of the winged creatures--do not afford a fair and moderate sample of the insect life of these latitudes, quite considerable enough though the usual run of this is wont to be.

"Arrived at the Argentine town of Corrientes, one of the most important strategic spots in the whole river system has been reached. To one bound upstream this is the parting of the river ways. A few miles to the north of the town the choice is open to the traveller whether he will turn to the right and ascend the waters of the Alto Paraná, with Argentina on his right hand and Paraguay on his left, or whether he will keep straight on to the north and reverse this territorial situation, having Argentina on his left and Paraguay on his right.

"The main line of the waters, with Asuncion as its object, lies straight to the north, and almost immediately after leaving Corrientes the steamer has entered the Paraguay River. It is at this point that the somewhat curious nomenclature of the various streams becomes most evident. It is the remarkable fate of the Paraguayan when bound from his home to the Atlantic Ocean to have to descend three different rivers, or, if you prefer it, various stretches of the same river known by three different names. From the point of view of fluvial equity, there is no doubt that considerable wrong has been done to the River Paraguay in the way of nomenclature. Why this splendid navigable stream, at its junction with the cascade-broken and far shorter Alto Paraná, should yield its name to that of the lesser current, and should continue to flow southwards as the Paraná, is a sufficiently incomprehensible matter to most geographers. And then, when it has all but run its course, the river performs a second wedding, with the Uruguay this time, and again changes its name. But on this occasion neither stream obtains the advantage over the other, for both roll their few remaining miles to the sea under the entirely fresh name of La Plata. Nevertheless, there does not seem to be a doubt that, from the point of view of importance, the name of the great stream which rises to the north of the inland Republic should be the Paraguay for its entire course as far as the ocean.

"This digression, however, has led us away from the upstream journey to Asuncion. Once in the Paraguay River, the beauties of the scene would seem to have become more marked. The banks have drawn sufficiently near to each other for their increasing charms to become plain. No longer does the steamer steer a tortuous course through a maze of low and reedy islands that never permit the stranger to be certain whether he is gazing on the mainland or whether further channels at the bank lie between him and the actual shore.

"Now the banks of the stream, with their flower-starred vegetation, are plainly defined. Once to the north of the mouth of the Bermejo tributary, moreover, which pours its amazingly red and muddy waters into the main stream, the river has become comparatively limpid. Alligators had already made their appearance in the Paraná; but such banks of sand and mud as emerge here and there from the waters of the Paraguay are far more thickly covered with the sluggish bodies of the small saurians, that in these latitudes seldom exceed six or seven feet.

"Presently, as the steamer drops her anchor before a port to her right, there is a significant touch of colour about the small official boat which puts out to her from the shore. Hitherto the light blue and white of Argentina has flown at the stern of these craft. But from this one for the first time floats the red, white, and blue of Paraguay. The steamer has arrived at Humaitá, the first port of the inland Republic."[38]

A massive, stark ruin, standing up on the bank of the river, the church of Humaitá, carries us into the history of the dreadful war which laid the land desolate here, and to which we must shortly refer. Continuing for the present our way upstream, the view extends over tobacco and sugar-cane fields, interspersed with luxuriant banana groves. Reed huts cluster here and there near the bank, and groups of dark-skinned workers are seen. On the opposite shore a fringe of dense vegetation hides the Chaco plains--the haunt of the savage Indian and the tapir, but marked by occasional clearings. Rafts of _quelracho_ timber float down the stream, the heavy wood buoyed up by trunks of a lighter kind, for the _quelracho_ does not float. Soon we reach the mouth of the Pilcomayo, with its low bank, and then the roofs and spires of Asuncion come into the field of view, the salient points of a city that spreads itself over the rolling ground, surrounded by pleasant verdure.

Asuncion is to be regarded as a picturesque city. There is a wealth of flower, which often covers the hovels on the outskirts. The city is built partly on its hills and partly on the sandy riverine plain, and contains some interesting buildings. Life here is generally simple, and has certain attractions by reason of this simplicity. It is nigh upon the tropic zone, but its environment is such that the climate is pleasant indeed, and, in fact, has been enthusiastically described by some as "containing all the elements of perfection."

Asuncion was long the seat of Spanish rule, which extended over this vast region of river and forest, and here, among other phases, the bitter struggle between the Church and the Jesuits was played out.

Life, we have said, is simple, even for the upper class, although in its way typical of Spanish American culture. In humbler circles, clothing is simple. A cotton chemise is a sufficient garment for a woman, and perhaps a white _manta_ round the head, in the fashion brought by Spain from the Moors; whilst her husband wears nothing more than a loose shirt and trousers--clothing that costs little and lasts long.

These sartorial conditions refer to the Indian folk who, however, constitute the bulk of the nation. Upper-class people, of course, wear boots and shoes, and would indignantly refute any aspersion as to being backward in the refinements of life. There are some good buildings in Asuncion, showing the customary Spanish American ideas in civic architecture. The most prominent edifice is a bank, built originally as a palace by the younger Lopez, and there is a national college and a public library, but educational progress is slow in Paraguay. The principal streets are paved, and lighted with gas and electricity, and there are street cars and telephones.

The name of Lopez brings forward one of the most dreadful periods of history in this part of South America, upon which we may well pause a space.

Francisco Solano Lopez, dictator of Paraguay, and self-styled "Protector of the equilibrium of the La Plata," forced his country into war against Brazil, Uruguay and Argentina, who, aggrieved, combined for the purpose of suppressing him, "until no elements of war should be left in Paraguay," as their declaration ran. The country was invaded, the war lasted five years, 1865 to 1870; a struggle involving enormous sacrifice of blood and treasure, closing only when the Paraguayans were practically annihilated. During the struggle every male Paraguayan was forced to bear arms; there were regiments of boys from twelve to fifteen years old; women were used as beasts of burden to carry ammunition and stores, and were murdered or left to die by the wayside when their strength gave out. From a population of nearly one and a half million, that of Paraguay fell as a consequence of the struggle to a quarter of a million. It is recorded that, in the retreat, Lopez ordered every town and village to be destroyed and every living animal slaughtered. Imagining a conspiracy against his life, this half-crazed dictator, it is recorded, ordered hundreds of the foremost citizens of Paraguay to be seized and executed, including his own brother and brothers-in-law, judges, cabinet ministers, officers, bishops, two hundred foreigners and several diplomatic representatives of the legations. The end of this extraordinary specimen of a Spanish American ruler was death in the river, for, having been reduced to a handful of adherents, on the northern frontier of Paraguay, he was surprised by Brazilians, and shot, as he endeavoured to swim the stream.

Leaving these dreadful reminiscences of civilized savagery, however, let us take our way through the Republic. Much of it is extremely fertile; rich soil abounding in meadows and pastures, with such varied products as might make of this portion of the continent a veritable garden or orchard. Our eyes rest on groves of orange-trees, clustering with golden fruit, on fields of waving sugar-cane of immense growth, on vineyards and tobacco fields, on cotton and hemp plantations. So prolific are the citrus fruits that hogs are sometimes fattened on oranges. Millions of dozens of the fruit are exported down the river to the large towns on its banks.

The principal product, however, is the well-known _yerba maté_, or Paraguayan tea, and the growing and collecting of this gives occupation to the Indian peasants whom we see clustered in the fields or simple villages. The cost of production of this article is small, and, exported to Argentina, Brazil and Chile, the leaf takes the place to some extent in those communities of tea and coffee. The leaves of the shrub, the _Ilèx Paraguayensis_, are stripped, sun-dried and packed in sacks for export.

This tea could be sold in England at perhaps sixpence per pound, but, notwithstanding its useful qualities, it is almost unknown in Britain.

Paraguay is a land where soil and climate lends itself well to stock-raising, and doubtless this industry in the future will be much more extensively cultivated in the Republic, in view of the world's needs for the products it yields. Natural pasture is abundant, shelter is unnecessary, but drought at times is a source of loss. The breed of the cattle, too, calls for improvement. The great South American meat and meat-extract companies have already cast eyes on the possibilities of the Paraguayan pastures.

If we are students of social science, we may recollect that this land we are momentarily treading was the scene of an interesting experiment in communism, when, some twenty-five years ago, William Lane and his companions, of Sydney, founded their colony of "New Australia." This little band of Australians, who at least had the courage of their convictions, suffered endless misfortunes in their endeavour to demonstrate their economic theories, in which there was to be neither master nor servant, nor rich nor poor, but each for all. Before starting, their individual possessions were made over to the common fund. The Government of Paraguay treated the enterprise exceedingly well, granted them a tract of extremely fertile land, which, however, was in a remote spot, and helped them in various ways, believing, as did the band of Australians, that success would attend their endeavours. But at length disillusionment arose, and although the leader and a few of his adherents struggled bravely on, disaster befel the settlement, which lapsed finally into purely individualistic methods.

A far earlier "socialistic" system flourished in this part of South America. The story of the Jesuit missions is one of great interest, but with a sad ending, and we may cast a glance at it here.

"It was in 1588 that the first Jesuits arrived in Paraguay, where they met with a warm welcome at the hands of the colonists, between whom and the missionary Fathers a bitter feud was eventually destined to spring up. These early workers made a cosmopolitan company, counting among their number Spaniards, Portuguese, Italians and Scots, besides other nationalities. Setting dauntlessly out into the forests of Paraguay, they passed from tribe to tribe, making converts of the Indians in a fashion sufficiently wholesale to receive some condemnation at the hands of their detractors. However much or however little the average Guaraní may have understood of his actual reception into the Christian faith, the perils and hardships of the early missionaries remained the same, and these were undoubtedly sufficient to tax the resolution of any but the most single-hearted pioneer.

"Little by little, as more Jesuits arrived from abroad to assist in the work, and as the numbers of the Guaraní converts grew, began the definite foundations of that society of the Paraguayan missions which was feared and hated by those Spaniards outside its borders who imagined, rightly or wrongly, that its presence was the cause of much material wrong to themselves. This country of the Jesuits had every right to be known as a State. It administered its own laws and authority, and was subject to none of the local colonial officials, a circumstance that undoubtedly gave rise to numerous outbursts of jealousy. It was, moreover, rigidly shut off from the outer world, and, although travellers were permitted to pass, closely watched, from one of its towns to another, none but the Jesuit administrators were in the least conversant with the affairs of the community, and with the events which were happening in the State. It is this latter circumstance, of course, which has been responsible for so many of the disputes concerning actual facts--arguments which have arisen both during the period of the Jesuit dominion and after the expulsion of the Fathers. But in any case no dispute has ever arisen concerning the fact that this land of the Jesuits was a self-governing State, whether it be known by any of the various names which have been applied to it--a republic, an empire, or a socialistic community pure and simple.

"The mission country of the Jesuits was situated amid those delightful tracts of land where the modern Republics of Paraguay, Brazil and Uruguay now meet. From north to south it lay, roughly, between the parallels of 25° and 30°, and thus it comprised a stretch of territory the open spaces of which may rightfully be called 'the Garden of South America.' We may now survey this spot in the height of its prosperity, beginning with some aspects of its thirty towns, which, of course, include some of the most salient features of all.

"The Jesuits of Paraguay were nothing if not consistent, and their policy was eloquently shown in the construction of their towns. None of their converts, decreed the missionaries, should be permitted to outdo his, or her, neighbourhood in the matter of dress and outward appearance. The priests did their best to ensure equality and the absence of heartburning by a regulation that every Indian should be garbed exactly the same, both in material and cut, as were his brethren and sisters. This same theory was made to apply in the case of the dwelling-places of the Guaranís. It has been remarked that these resembled each other as closely as one drop of water resembles another. 'The arrangement of these,' says Alvear, who wrote from personal experience, 'is so uniform that when you have seen one you may say that you have seen them all. Some tiny freak of architecture or some little touch of private adornment--that is the only difference that may be remarked. Essentially they are all the same, and this has been brought to such a pitch that those who travel through them are apt to begin to wonder if they are not being accompanied by the same enchanted town, the eyes of a lynx being needed to tell the difference between the inhabitants and clothes of one of these places and those of another. The plan of them all is rectangular, the streets stretching from north to south and from east to west, and the Plaza, which is always roomy and level, in the middle. The church, college and cemetery occupy that side of the Plaza that faces north.'

"This description affords, at all events, a rough and general outline of one of the Jesuit towns. It leaves, however, many details of interest to be filled in. The aspect of one of these places, it may be said, was extremely pleasant, the Jesuits who understood these matters very thoroughly, having introduced orange-groves and other such growths with consummate skill among the buildings. The church would be a most solidly built edifice, containing three or five naves, as the case might be. Its interior, moreover, was richly decorated by the Indian craftsmen and workers in metal, and here, one imagines, some distinguishing originality must have occurred, although no doubt this was avoided as much as possible.

"Attached to the college, which was usually a very large building, were the workshops and storehouses of the town, which were thus under the immediate eye of the Fathers. The buildings in which the Indians themselves were accommodated were very extensive but low-roofed structures, being some sixty yards in length and ten in breadth. The majority of the buildings were contrived of great blocks of the locally found _Tacurú_ stone, which for the purpose of cutting possesses the very unusual advantage of being comparatively soft when first taken from the earth, hardening little by little as it is exposed to the air. The magnificent woods of the neighbouring forests were frequently employed in addition, and the ubiquitous _adobe_ was made to serve here and there. All the buildings were very solidly tiled.

"So much for the general description of one of those Jesuit towns of which only the ruins now remain, all but swallowed up by the encroaching verdure of the forest. In their neighbourhood was nearly always a stone-lined spring, welling out into a pool planted about with palms, and thus presenting a most agreeable appearance. Near this would be the chapels of the 'Stations of the Cross.'

"Finally, it must be said that many of these centres which were most exposed to the raids of the hostile Brazilian inhabitants of San Paolo were strongly fortified, being surrounded by a deep ditch and a solid wall of hardened mud.

"Each of these towns was in charge of two Jesuits, not too large a number, it must be admitted, to have control of a town the population of which was probably about four thousand. These, however, were assisted by numerous Guaraní officials, and their management appears to have been conducted with exemplary smoothness.

"Having now obtained a glimpse of the plan and aspects of a Jesuit mission town, it is time to consider some attributes that are at least as important--its inhabitants. Proceeding downwards along its hierarchy from the two Jesuit Fathers in charge--who were responsible only to a superior of their own order who travelled continually to and fro between the various towns--we arrive at the higher Guaraní officials. At the head of these was a _cacique_, who in a sense acted as Governor of the place, although his office was under the closest supervision of the two Jesuits in charge. There were also _corregidores_, _regidores_, _alcaldes_, and many other officials, whose posts corresponded more or less with those held by Spaniards in the somewhat cumbrous municipal scheme that obtained in the peninsula.

"In order that the position of these dusky dignitaries should be properly emphasized they were raised above the law which decreed perfect equality of dress for all, and on feast days their uniforms were wont to be sufficiently gorgeous to distinguish them from the rest.

"The dress of the rank and file of the inhabitants was simple to a degree. The material employed for that of both men and women was white cotton. The men wore a species of shirt above short breeches, while the women were dressed in petticoats, above which was an armless chemise known as the _typoi_. The hair was plaited into one or two tails, and was generally adorned with a crimson flower. To such a degree had this doctrine of similarity of costume become implanted into the minds of the Indians that, after the expulsion of the Jesuits, those who succeeded the missionaries--and endeavoured in vain to carry on the work--were astonished at the tenacity with which they clung to it. Desirous of rooting out entirely the influence of the Jesuits, they assiduously pointed out to the Indians the advantages of individuality in dress. But it was a very long time before one of these could bring himself to distinguish his person from the rest by means of any of those added touches which are usually so eagerly sought after by the dusky races.

"The supposition that Satan finds work for idle hands to do was acknowledged by the Jesuits with an enthusiasm on which was founded the principal tenets of their communities. In the mission towns any risk of this kind was quite infinitesimal! Indeed, one of the charges levelled by the opponents of the missionaries has been to the effect that they harnessed the Guaranís from the age of five years upwards to an endless and grinding routine of toil. Indeed, in estimating the benefits derived by the company of the Jesuits from this fount of labour, a very gifted modern Argentine writer estimates the eighteenth-century Guaraní population of the Paraguayan missions at some 150,000, adding that, so healthy was the climate of their country that almost the entire force of this community was available, invalids being almost unknown. In this he unconsciously pays a notable tribute to the methods employed in the 'Reductions'--by which name these mission towns were also known. For this remarkable lack of invalids may well be compatible with the circumstances attending ordinary hard work, but they suggest nothing of that grinding toil such as the _conquistadores_ were only too frequently accustomed to inflict on the aborigines--labour involving broken health and premature death.

"The admittedly healthy condition of the Jesuitical Guaranís is in itself sufficient to refute such a charge as this.

"The various kinds of work carried on in the mission towns were of an amazingly comprehensive nature. Even their most hostile critics have never attempted to dispute the administrative abilities of the missionaries. These found a full opportunity in the fertile soil and varied products of the country. One of the first industries they took up was that of collecting the famous Paraguayan tea, the yerba maté, from the forests in which it grew. Undoubtedly this was one of the severest tasks which the Guaranís had to undertake, since the yerba-tree, the _Ilèx Paraguayensis_, favours the denser forests that are the haunt of the jaguar, the venomous snake and countless noxious insects. Moreover, as the yerba maté-trees in the neighbourhood of the settlements became used up, the journeys of the Indians grew longer and more difficult, and the return marches, under the burden of the yerba loads, still more strenuous.

"Another industry which rapidly attained to great importance was that of cattle-breeding. It is difficult to picture the Jesuit Fathers galloping with flying robes after the scampering herds of cattle, gathering them into _rodeos_, and 'parting' them after the fashion of the gaucho--and this they undoubtedly did not do! At the same time, it is certain that they must have closely supervised their dusky herdsmen; for the numbers of their cattle rapidly increased to an extent which could only have been possible under an efficient, and comparatively scientific, management. This will be evident when it is explained that more than thirty thousand head of cattle grazed on one of their estates alone, and that at the time of the expulsion of the company their pastures were found to contain nearly 800,000 cattle, nearly 100,000 horses and mules, and over 200,000 sheep and goats.

"Beyond this there were the fields of cotton, maize, rice, sugar-cane, tobacco, and all those cereals which went to make up the store of the mission towns, as well as the spreading groves of orange-trees, and all the fruits of the sub-tropics and of Southern Europe which were cultivated with immense success in the rich red soil of Paraguay. It is a tribute to the energy of the Jesuits, moreover, that sufficient wheat was grown within the missions to render them self-supporting in this respect, when the small amount of wheat is taken into consideration that is at present produced within the Republic of Paraguay.

"It was in these pastoral and agricultural pursuits that the main supply of Guaraní labour was employed. The Jesuits saw to it that the tasks of the Indians were made as attractive as possible. Thus they would march to the fields singing chants and preceded by a small band of instruments, and they would return in the same impressive fashion when the labours of the day were done. In all such ways as this the work of the Indians was lightened, and undoubtedly the policy possessed its practical side in that far more satisfactory agricultural results were obtained from these contented people than would have been the case had they been dejected and apathetic.

"The scope of the mission work, however, was by no means confined to the pastoral and agricultural pursuits. The community was entirely self-supporting, and it was thus necessary to quarry the stone of which the town buildings were constructed, to build the small vessels in which much of the produce was sent to be sold in the large cities lower down the river, and even to found the cannons and to produce the gunpowder which were necessary in order to defend the settlements from the slave-raiding attacks of those arch-enemies of the missions, the _Mamelucos_, who came out with fire and sword from the Brazilian town of San Paolo.

"But, when the disposition and attainments of the original Guaraní tribe are taken into consideration, some of the most remarkable achievements of the missionaries were in connection with the finer arts and crafts rather than with the cruder labours of the main industries. It is true that at the head of each of these branches was a Jesuit who was a complete master of his particular art or craft. But this alone does not suffice to explain the astonishing progress made in these directions by a race that a generation or two before had represented one of the most primitive types of Indian in the world--naked savages without the faculty of hieroglyphics, unable to count beyond the few first numbers, ignorant of the very rudiments of music, and lacking sufficient imagination to provide themselves even with a reasonable supply of that superstition which stands for the religion of the savage.

"Yet it was from these very folk that were produced craftsmen of a really able type. It was they who, under the coaching of the missionaries, learned to become carpenters, to carve stone with professional cunning, and who became expert locksmiths, gunsmiths and workers in metals. There were many weavers and printers, and among them were a certain number who had actually attained to the expert art of watchmaking. Among the most astonishing walks of life, however, to which the Guaraní was transported was that of painter--in the artistic sense of the vocation. Hand in hand with this art went that of music. Indeed, one of the proofs of how thoroughly these matters were undertaken lies in the fact of the bringing over from Europe with a view to teaching the Guaranís music and singing, of Padre Juan Basco, who had previously been at the head of an archducal institution of music.

"A school and a hospital were attached to each Reduction, and each of these, in addition, was provided with an asylum for the aged and infirm. Even here a certain amount of work was carried on, and the inmates of this institution were given such light tasks as they could perform."[39]

* * * * *

This colonization system was broken up by the _Mamelucos_, the greedy folk of San Paolo, who, having enslaved the Indians of that part of Brazil, cast envious eyes upon the peaceful labour of the missions, which they longed to impress in their own services. They therefore began a series of merciless onslaughts on the settlements, which, however, valiantly defended themselves for a time. But the Arcadia was doomed to fall, and the Jesuits were expelled from Paraguay in 1768, and little remains now but the ruin of their wonderful work, which Nature rapidly covered up with her generous robes of flower and foliage, as if desirous of hiding from view the brutalities of mankind in this one of her fairest provinces of South America.

We shall now leave this fertile heart of the continent, to traverse with rapid strides a region of a very different nature: that of the "Far South"--a south, however, whose attributes of climate and general environment are not such as we generally associate with that point of the compass, and of which we have obtained a passing glimpse in our survey of the great Cordillera.

In the southern-most part of the New World, the tapering portion of the South American continent, lies a vast region of which comparatively little is heard or known, yet one which in the future must take its place in the economic development of the globe. This is the Territory extending throughout the lower portion of Argentina, Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego.

It is a land lying far beyond the Tropics, in part a sort of Siberia of South America, terminating in those regions which Magellan described as "stark with eternal cold."

We generally speak of Argentina and Chile as if they were compact topographical and political entities, instead of territories between two and three thousand miles long, covering zones on the surface of the globe comparable, as far as latitude is concerned, to one extending from nigh mid-Africa, through Europe into Scotland, with climate similarly varying.

But this southern land has great possibilities. It has received a bad name, largely resulting upon the description of Darwin, who visited it in the voyage of the _Beagle_, a reputation which more recent travellers have shown not to be deserved. Darwin spoke of the "curse of sterility" and of the eternally "dreary landscape," but, like Siberia, Patagonia may prove to be a region desirable in many respects.

Yet Patagonia strikes the traveller as huge and elemental, and settlement and development, as far as they go, are but the work of the few recent years. It offers great and abrupt contrasts of pampa and mountain, with rivers cutting across the plains from the Andes to the Atlantic.

"On the Atlantic coastline it is four or five days' ride to the nearest farm. In the interior Nature enfolds you with her large, loose grasp. Who, having once seen them, can forget the Pampas? Evening, and the sun sloping over the edge of the plain like an angry eye, an inky-blue mirage half blotting it out; in the middle distance grass rolling like an ocean to the horizon, lean thorn, and a mighty roaring wind. This wild land, ribbed and spined by one of the greatest mountain chains in the world, appears to have been the last habitation of the great beasts of the older ages. It is now the last country of all to receive man, or rather its due share of human population. Out there in the heart of the country one seems to stand alone, with nothing nearer or more palpable than the wind, the fierce mirages, and the limitless distances."[40]

However, farms and cattle ranges are springing up, and Nature has placed in one spot on the coast an important petroleum field, to say nothing of the valuable forests.

This far southern region of South America is shared by the British Empire, in its distant outpost of the Falkland Isles, forming its most southerly colony. The latitude here in the south corresponds roughly to that of England in the north, but climate is very different, with a constantly overcast and rainy sky, although the extremes of heat and cold are far less. The treeless, grass-covered lands maintain large numbers of sheep. The little capital of Stanley is mainly built of wood, with a Government House of grey stone, calling to mind an Orkney or Shetland manse. There is nothing of Spanish American atmosphere here. Far from the mainland, the only association with the continent of South America of the Falkland Isles is that they are the headquarters of the bishop of that diocese, which, as we have seen elsewhere, covers so wide a field in Spanish America, and perhaps the fact that Argentina still regards the possession of these somewhat melancholy and remote sea-girt isles by Britain with disapproval; claiming them as hers. The name is immortal in the destruction of the German fleet in those waters during the Great War.

FOOTNOTES:

[37] Pronounced, phonetically, "Who-Who-e," with the accent on the last syllable.

[38] _Paraguay_, Koebel, South American Series.

[39] _Paraguay_, op. cit.

[40] _Patagonia_, Hesketh Prichard, London 1911.