The Pampas and Andes. A Thousand Miles' Walk Across South America
BY . With an Introduction by EDWARD A. SAMUELS, ESQ. Boston : Lee and Shepard.
BRIEFLY told, Mr. Bishop’s entertaining story is this : He worked his passage as a sailor on a merchant vessel from Boston to Montevideo, and ascended the river Plata to Buenos Ayres ; as soon as possible he joined a caravan leaving Rosario, and walked across the pampas to Mendoza ; spent the winter near San Juan in the service of an American who had grist-mills there ; in the spring started alone upon his chief enterprise of passing the Andes on foot, but was overtaken by a train, and walked with it to Chili, whence, at Valparaiso, he again Shipped before the mast and returned home, — his capital at no time having exceeded forty dollars, and his other resources being summed up in Yankee courage and curiosity, and such knowledge of the world as a boy of seventeen may have.
As all this happened in the years 1854 — 55, Mr. Bishop does not, of course, bring us “the latest advices from South America” ; but, to our perennial ignorance of that part of the world, it is something very like news he tells of its countries and the people. His narrative is compiled from the journal he kept during his wanderings, and holds the reader by the novelty and variety of incident, whilst it by no means displeases with a certain boyishness of tone, consorting well enough with the character of the whole adventure, which in its indefiniteness of purpose seems of some past epoch rather than our own. The “ zeal for the study of Natural History,” which Dr. Brewer attributes to him in Mr. Samuels’s Introduction, docs not appear to the unscientific reader with disturbing effect ; and but for the connection of Mr. Bishop’s name with those of these gentlemen, we should only have credited him with a general desire to see the world.
He has seen the world in phases not often shown in these days of genteel tours, and his book, read in the light of a highly philosophized work like Señor Sarmiento’s “Civilization and Barbarism,” is a useful study of life in the Argentine Republic. He shared the lot of the gauchos, with whom he traversed the pampas, in every respect, and he reports their character from this intimate association in the same colors that it wears in the profounder view of their countryman. They are sad ruffians indeed, — brutal, lawless, dishonest, filthy, everything but cowardly; and in the picture of their life on the pampas, as Mr. Bishop gives it, we are struck again with that resemblance to the Bedouins which Señor Sarmiento points out. These noble fellows despise foreigners, of course, and especially Yankees ; and the experience of Bostron el Gringo, as they called our author, in recognition of his Athenian origin, were unpleasant even to the poisoning point. He seems to have fallen personally in their opinion from the fatal moment when at dinner he attempted, gaucho fashion, to sever with his knife the morsel of meat, one end of which it is good manners on the pampas to let hang from your mouth, and so cut the tip of his nose. No gaucho of true ton could have been guilty of this awkwardness,and thereafter they offered him every possible affront, and finally attempted his life. He added to his unpopularity by his habit of washing himself; yet, seeing him on Sunday with a testament containing a picture of the crucifixion, they declared that he was a Christian, and invited him to celebrate their unity of faith by a game of cards. There is, however, a savager creature on the pampas than the gaucho, namely, the Indian, who lies in wait for the latter, and robs and murders him. The gauchos travel in continual fear of the Indians, and the whole encampment of Mr. Bishop’s friends was terror-struck by the appearance of two Indian women. Altogether, it is an agreeable country. But our author survived the enmity of his comrades, as well as the unavoidable hardships of a passage of the pampas, and arrived in good condition at Mendoza. He found here a North American circus company, with the usual number of professional gentlemen by whom our country is chiefly represented in the inland cities of South America. In connection with this company, he relates a shocking instance of bribery and corruption, — the governor of Mendoza being prevailed on by the present of a season-ticket to transfer the government band from the theatre to the circus, thereby breaking faith with his countrymen, and greatly injuring native talent and the legitimate drama in Mendoza.
Of the citizens, particularly at San Juan, Mr. Bishop gives a friendlier account than we find elsewhere : —
“ I found, to my surprise, among the wealthier citizens, a class of society, which for dignity of deportment, strictness in etiquette, and generous hospitality, would favorably compare with any class that I have met in the United States or in Europe. The young men were intelligent and full of generous ardor, and the maidens, — how shall I describe them ? . . . . Many of the females, particularly the younger ones, have complexions that in clearness and beauty would rival the blondes of the North. In addition to personal beauty, the ladies of San Juan can boast of varied attractions. The guitar is used with a grace and skill that give evidence of careful study and long practice. Many play upon the piano, using instruments that have been carted a thousand miles over the pampas, from the port of Buenos Ayres. All can embroider with skill and elegance. Poetry appears to be assiduously cultivated among them, and many specimens of true inspiration came to my notice that would be considered worthy of the name of Tennyson or Longfellow.” Here we may suspect Mr. Bishop of the partiality of friendship, but we cannot question him when he adds : “ Altogether, I know of no situation more pleasant, or containing more elements of interest and romance, than San Juan.”
Beneath this verse-producing and pianoplaying level were grades of civilization not so attractive, and the milling business, as Mr. Bishop knew it outside of San Juan, was not all a dream of poesy.
“There were no water privileges in the interior, and the merchants and farmers of Cordova and San Luis frequently sent wheat three or four hundred miles by troops of mules. My office, therefore, proved an advantageous one, as I was enabled to have direct intercourse with people from several of the northern and eastern provinces. Among the numbers that I became acquainted with were the old-fashioned Riojano, who came from his distant home to the north of the desert, clothed in a heavy frasada, manufactured from wool of his own shearing by the industry of his wife or daughter. Sometimes the Indian-looking Santiaguenian, or Catamarcan, and the crafty yet polite Cordovese, traded at the mill ; and many were the little gifts that the most respectable portion of my customers brought me from their estates far back in the irrigated travesia, or along the bases of the Andes. The press of business demanded that the mill should be run night and day. This compelled the poorer classes that came from a distance to sleep in the mill. And at night, when all was quiet save the restless hum of the revolving stone, it was a curious sight to peep in at the door, and behold the ground covered with sleeping forms of men, women, and children of many types and complexions, — here the offspring of the negro and Indian; there the child of a Spanish father and Indian mother. . . . . The gauchos love to gamble, and while waiting for the mill to do its work, they generally spent the time in playing their favorite games, always staking small sums of money upon the chances, in order to make the time pass more profitably. But, whatever might have been the rules of the other mills, Don Guillermo soon put a stop to what he called a degenerating practice, and by various small skirmishes with the gaucho peons, he fully demonstrated that his was a North American institution, and that, therefore, gambling could not be permitted upon his premises. The peons remonstrated, but the don was firm. They threatened to ruin his business by patronizing the other mills in preference to his own ; but as their masters respected the policy of my friend, they were restrained from carrying out their designs. Thus law and order were firmly established, and North American principles were triumphant. It requires no small degree of firmness and knowledge of human nature to carry on the flour and grain business in the Argentine Republic. Peace and quiet did not last long before a second innovation was attempted, although upon a new plan. A band of thieves and loafers erected a hut of corn-stalks and briers upon the opposite side of the canal, in the district of Anjuaco, and the place was once more disturbed by midnight revels, and by frequent raids upon the grounds of neighboring farmers. Sheep, calves, and even horses disappeared in a mysterious manner. At length Don Guillermo became exasperated, and, watching an opportunity when the rascals were absent, he attacked the shanty, levelled it to the ground, and, collecting the ruins into one pile, set fire to it, and burned it to ashes.”
We leave the reader to follow Mr. Bishop across the Andes in his own narrative, and to decide for himself whether he will believe the personal history of Don Guillermo Buenaparte as recounted to the author. Mr. Bishop believes it, but he is himself a more temperate story-teller, and is in all respects a pleasant and entertaining companion, whose book we are glad to have read.