FOOTNOTES:
[12] The census of 1909 showed that public instruction had since 1895, the date of the last census, made great progress. In these ten years the Argentine has opened 2000 new schools. In 1895, 30 per cent. of the population were in the schools; in 1909, 59 per cent.
The Lainez Act enjoined on the National Educational Council the duty of opening elementary schools, giving the minimum of instruction, wherever they were needed.
In the census of 1909 every child from five to fourteen years was made the subject of a separate card of psychophysical details on the initiative of Dr. Horacio G. Pinero. This card contained twenty-one questions: age, nationality, parentage, height, weight, thoracic measurements, size of the head, weight of the body, anomalies, deformities, stigmata, anterior diseases, sight, hearing, objective perception, attention, memory, language and pronunciation, affectionateness, excitability, temper.
[13] "If the idea of liberty be in itself a force, as Fouillée maintains, that force would be scarcely less if some wise man should one day demonstrate that it rested on illusion alone. This illusion is too tenacious to be dispelled by reasoning. The most convinced of determinists will still continue to use the words 'I will' and even 'I ought' in his daily speech, and moreover will continue to think them with what is the most powerful part of his mind—the unconscious and non-reasoning part. It is just as impossible not to act like a free man when one acts as it is not to reason like the determinist when one is working at science" ("La Morale et la Science," by Henri Poincaré, La Revue, June 1, 1910).
[14] "If some day morality were forced to accept determinism, would it not perish in the effort to adapt itself thereto? So profound a metaphysical revolution would doubtless have less influence on our manners than might be thought. Penal repression is not of course in question; what we now call crime and punishment would be known as disease and prevention, but society would preserve intact its right which is not to punish but simply to defend itself" (Henri Poincaré, loc. cit.).
[CHAPTER VI]
ARGENTINE TYPES, MANNERS, AND MORALS
I had very good ground for stating that a salient characteristic of the Argentinos was a desire, not only to learn from Europe but to carry to the farthest possible pitch of perfection every institution begun, whether public or private, and to surpass their model. The obvious danger in all rapidly-developed colonial settlements is the acceptance of the "half-done," an almost obligatory condition in the early stages of development, and one whose facility of attainment is apt to militate against the persistency of effort after that precision of completion which alone can give good results. This defect, in fact, constitutes the principal reproach brought by the systematic Northerners against the impulsive Latin races, whose temperamental traits lead them to content themselves with a brilliant start, leaving thereafter to imagination the task of filling in the blanks left in the reality by this unsatisfactory method of operation.
I confess that in setting out for South America I was prepared to find that I should need the greatest indulgence if I would escape the danger of offending by discourteous but candid criticism. This was due to the fact that I was insensibly influenced partly by a few sociologists who discuss these matters carelessly, and partly by the folly that leads us to overlook the claims of consanguinity and urges us ever along those paths that England and Germany have opened. But not at all. If the prodigious expansion of the great North American republic may have inclined me to fear for the South American republics anything approaching to comparison, it is my belief that any impartial observer will rejoice to recognise the robust and generous development of some of the most promising forces of the future, in young communities that are clearly destined to attain to the highest grades of human superiority.
In 1865 Buckle, who was a man of no ordinary mental calibre, did not fear to write in his History of Civilisation that the compelling action of land and climate in Brazil was such that a highly civilised community must shortly find a home there. The event has amply justified the bold prophecy. In the South American republics, as in the United States and elsewhere, there are different degrees of fulfilment, of course. At the outset, while waiting for land to acquire value, all peoples have had to be satisfied with an approximate achievement. But in the Argentine, Uruguay, and Brazil, to speak only of countries I have visited, it is plain that nothing will be left half done, and the capacity to carry all work methodically forward to its end, in no matter what field of labour, promises well for the future of a race.
You do not require to stay long at Buenos Ayres to find that this quality exists in a very high degree in the Argentino.
I have mentioned the European aspect of Buenos Ayres—the least colonial-looking, probably, of any place in South America. But I noticed at the same time that the Argentino refuses to be simply a Spaniard transplanted, although society, in Buenos Ayres, traces its descent, with more or less authenticity, from the conquistadores, and did originally issue from the Iberian Peninsula. If we go farther and inquire what other influence, beside that of soil and climate, has been exercised over the European stock in the basin of the Rio de la Plata, we are bound to be struck with the thought that the admixture of Indian blood must count for something. The negro element, never numerically strong, appears to have been completely absorbed. There is very little trace of African blood. On the other hand, without leaving Buenos Ayres, you cannot fail to be struck by some handsome half-castes to be seen in the police force and fire brigade, for example, and the regularity of their delicate features is very noticeable to even the observer who is least prepared for it. The Indian of South America, though closely akin to the redskin of the North, is infinitely his superior. He had, indeed, created a form of civilisation, to which the conquistadores put brutally an end. There still subsist in the northern provinces of the Argentine some fairly large native settlements which receive but scant consideration from the Government. I heard too much on the subject to doubt the truth of this. Not but what many savage deeds can be laid to the charge of the Indians, as, for example, the abominable trap they laid for the peaceful Crevaux Mission in Bolivia which led to the massacre of all its members. Still, in equity we must remember that those who have recourse to the final argument of brute force are helping to confirm the savages in the habit of using it. In the interest of the higher sentimentality we must all deplore this. But our implacable civilisation has passed sentence on all races that are unable to adapt themselves to our form of social evolution, and from that verdict there is no appeal.
Not that the native of the South is incapable, like his brother of the North, of performing a daily task. I saw many natives amongst the hands employed by M. Hilleret in his factories in Tucuman. Neither can it be said that there is any lack of intelligence in the Indian. But the fact remains that he finds a difficulty in bending the faculties which have grown rigid in the circle of a primitive state of existence to the better forms of our own daily work, and this renders it impossible for him to carve out a place for himself in the sunlight under the new social organism imported from Europe by the white men. With greater power of resistance than the redskins of the other continent, he, like them, is doomed to disappear. Yet in one respect he has been more fortunate than his kinsmen of the North, and will never entirely die out, for he has already inoculated with his blood the flesh of the victors.
I am not going to pretend to settle in a word the problem of the fusion of races. I will only observe that the inrush of Indian blood in the masses—and also to a very considerable extent in the upper classes [15]—cannot fail to leave a permanent trace in the Argentine type, notwithstanding the steady current of immigration. And if I were asked to say what were the elemental qualities contributed to the coming race by the native strain, I should be inclined to think that the Indian's simplicity, dignity, nobility, and decision of character might modify in the happiest way the turbulent European blood of future generations.
After all, the Argentino who declines to be Spanish has, perhaps, very good reasons for his action. Here, he has succeeded, better than in the Iberian Peninsula, in ridding himself of the Moorish strain, which, though it gave him his lofty chivalry, has yet enchained him to the Oriental conception of a rigid theocracy. Why should not native blood have taken effect already upon the European mixture, and, with the aid of those unknown forces which we may class under the collective term of "climate," have prepared and formed a new people to be known henceforth by the obviously suitable name of "Argentinos"? All I can say is that there are Argentine characteristics now plainly visible in this conglomeration of the Latin races. The objection may be made that the "Yankee" shows equally strongly marked characteristics, which distinguish him from the Anglo-Saxon stock, while we know that he is unaffected by other than European strains. This is undeniable, and in his case soil, climate, and the unceasing admixture of European types suffice to explain modifications which are apparently converging towards the creation of a new type or sub-type.
It is remarkable that the character of the Americanised Englishman, having passed through a phase of Puritan rigidity in the North and aristocratic haughtiness in the South, has, for some inexplicable reason, burst out into a temperament of highly vitalised energy that may be summed up in the characteristic formula of a universal "go-aheadedness." The South American, on the contrary, having started with every kind of extravagance in both public and private life calculated to destroy the confidence of Europe, is obviously now undergoing a settling-down process with a marked tendency to adopt those principles of action of which the North is so proud, while at the same time retaining his affection for Latin culture.
It is easier to generalise about the Argentine character than to penetrate beneath its surface. It is naturally in "society," where refinement is the highest, that traits which best lend themselves to generalisation are to be seen in strongest relief. The American of the North is, above all, highly hospitable. If you have a letter of introduction, his house is open to you at once. He establishes you under his roof and then leaves you to your own devices, while keeping himself free to continue his daily occupation. The Argentino receives you as kindly, though with more reserve. Although I know but little of the business world, I saw enough of it to gather that money enjoys as much favour there as in any other country; but the pursuit of wealth is there tempered by an indulgent kindliness that greatly softens all personal relations, and the asperities of the struggle for life are smoothed by a universal gentleness charming to encounter.
In their family relations the differences between the social ideals of the North and South American are plainly visible. The family tie appears to be stronger in the Argentine than, perhaps, any other land. The rich, unlike those of other countries, take pleasure in having large families. One lady boasted in my presence of having thirty-four descendants—children and grandchildren—gathered round her table. Everywhere family anniversaries are carefully observed, and all take pleasure in celebrating them. The greatest affection prevails and the greatest devotion to the parent roof-tree. Not that the Argentine woman would appear to be a particularly admirable mother according to our standard; for, on the contrary, it is said that her children are turned out into the world with very bad manners. How, then, are we to explain the contradictory fact that such children become the most courteous of men? Perhaps a certain wildness in youth should be regarded as the noisy, but salutary, apprenticeship to liberty.
All that can be seen of the public morals is most favourable. The women—generally extremely handsome in a super-Spanish way, and often fascinating [16]—enjoy a reputation, that seems well justified, of being extremely virtuous. I heard too much good about them to think any evil. They were, from what I could see, too carefully removed from the danger of conventional sins for me to be able to add the personal testimony that I have no doubt they merit. As to their feelings, or passions, if I may venture to use the word, I know nothing and therefore can say nothing. Are they capable of the self-abandonment of love, of experiencing all its joy and all its pain—inseparable as these but too often are? They did not tell me, so I shall never know. The most I can say is that they did not give me the impression of being made for the violent reactions of life as we know it in our daily European existence. I hope no one will see in this statement a shadow of criticism. It is, indeed, a compliment if you will admit that in an Argentine family love's dream is realised in the natural, orderly course of events. But if it were otherwise, it would still be to the highest credit of the women that in their rôle of faithful guardians of the hearth they have been able to silence calumny and inspire universal respect by the purity and dignity of their life.
Above all, do not imagine that these charming women are devoid of conversational talent. Some ill-natured critics have given them a bad reputation in this respect. Their principal occupation is evidently paying visits, and they gossip as best they can under the circumstances, considering that neither their friends nor their foes give any ground for tittle-tattle. This deficit might cause conversation to languish. Dress and news from the Rue de la Paix are a never-failing topic. [17] May not this be true in other lands? It has also been said that the beauties of Buenos Ayres are as prone to speculate in land as their menkind. It is quite possible. None will be surprised to learn that they gave me no information on this head either. They are credited, too, with being very superstitious, and are supposed to attach great importance to knowing exactly what must not be done on any given day of the week, or to what saint they should address their petitions. Here, again, I can give no authentic information. Naturally, had I been present at any of their meetings, the first condition of an exclusively feminine company would have been unfulfilled. It seems to me more reasonable to believe that the many works of public charity in which the ladies of Buenos Ayres take a share would account for much time and also for much talk.
Further, I may in all sincerity remark that if female education be not one of the points in which the Argentine Republic has left us behind, it is none the less a fact that I was happy enough to meet many charming women who were perfectly capable of sustaining a thoroughly Parisian kind of conversation supported by a fund of general information. And, moreover, they added a charm of geniality and real simplicity that are not too common on the banks of the Seine.
I have not spoken of shopping, which is the main occupation of the fair sex in North America, for the reason that at Buenos Ayres I saw none. I mentioned that the footwalks of the business quarter—including Florida, the handsomest and busiest of the streets—were blocked to such an extent that it was impossible to walk there two abreast. You do not expect to hear that there are any elegant toilettes in the crowd. And, in fact, in the central streets no women go afoot for pleasure. Some go about their business with hasty step, and that is all; the others receive the tradesmen at home, or take their chance of calling in the motor-car, which, after five o'clock, will probably not be allowed in the street to which they want to go. What is left, then, for the daily stroll? Only the wide avenues of the suburbs, where there is no particular attraction, and Palermo—the unique and inevitable Palermo, or rather, a part of Palermo, with the Recoleta, which makes a fine beginning for a public promenade.
In these circumstances it is evident that the aspect of the pavements of Buenos Ayres suffers by the absence of the fair sex. It might be thought that at Palermo, where the walks lead amongst flowers, lawns, and groves, our Argentinos would recover the use of their limbs and guard against their dangerous tendency to an over-abundance of flesh. Not at all. Social conventions do not allow of this. Our classics, men of mature mind, were fond of saying, with the Apollo of Delphi, that excess in all things is bad. Buenos Ayres has not yet reached to this degree of wisdom, and its female society, not satisfied to follow closely after virtue, seeks to add to their fame the spice of a reputation that leaves absolutely nothing to be said. For this reason they guard against even a chance encounter that might appear compromising. And so the fair sex only consent to walk on the Palermo under the protection of a rigorous rule of etiquette which enacts that to stop and talk on a public road with a lady whom one may meet later in the day in some salon is a sign of unpardonable ill-breeding. Decidedly we are far from Europe.
To complete the exotic air of the place, know that all husbands are jealous, or, at least, so they say, and it must be supposed there is some foundation for the statement. As far as I was able to judge, they are as amiable as their wives, and appear by no means to harbour tragic intentions towards any man likely to arouse their resentment. No. But if by chance, after dinner, you remain chatting quietly with one or two ladies, and in the inevitable ebb and flow of a salon you find yourself for a moment left alone with one, be sure that her husband, more genial than ever, will promptly appear on the scene to claim his share in the talk. At home this would appear strange, since we do not impose the spectacle of our private intimacies upon the public. Yet may not this very air of detachment upon which we insist lead, both in public and in private, to some of the tragedies of life? Is it wrong for a married couple to love each other? And when two hearts are united in this way how can a feeling so powerful fail at times to betray itself by some outward manifestation? Let us take heed lest, in laughing at others, we denounce ourselves. A man in a very high position, who is the father of a lad of twenty, volunteered to me the information that in the whole course of his married life he had nothing to reproach himself with, and that if by some misfortune he had transgressed the marriage law, he should have considered himself wholly unworthy of the woman who had given her whole life to him. No doubt the woman in question, who happened to be standing near us as we talked, fully merited his homage. Yet I wondered, as I listened to his noble and simple speech, whether one could find many Frenchmen to make in all candour such a confidence to a perfect stranger, or, supposing one found such a one, could he say as much without an embarrassed blush? Whatever may be the secret opinion of my reader, I hope he will agree with me in thinking that the advantage in this delicate matter is decidedly on the side of the Argentino, whose sane morality is the best of auguries for the community he is trying to found.
I should like to say something about the Argentine girl. The difficulty is that I never saw her. Every one knows that in North America the young girl is the principal social institution. She has got herself so much talked about that neither Europe nor Asia can help knowing her. In Argentine society, as in France and in Latin countries generally, the young girl is a cipher. She may be seen, no doubt, in the home, at concerts, where she figures in large numbers for the satisfaction of our eyes, at Palermo, at the Tigre, [18] and the Ice Palace—very respectable—where she skates under her mother's eyes, and, finally, at balls, whose joys and special rites are the same the world over. But all this does not make of the South American girl an element of conversation and social doings as in the United States. She remains on the edge of society until the day of her marriage. At the same time, the Argentine girl must not be supposed to resemble very closely her sister in Latin Europe. Less educated, perhaps, but more vivacious and less timidly reserved, she shows greater independence, they tell me, at Mar del Plata, which is the sole common meeting-ground for wealthier families, since the Pampas offer no resource outside the estancia. [19] At the Colon Theatre and at the Opera she is seated well in view in front of the box, making the whole ground floor an immense basket of beribboned flowers, and there, under the eye of her parents, the young men who are friends of her family are permitted to pay their respects to her. Must it be confessed? It is said that she makes use of borrowed charms, applied with puff and pencil, following in this the example of her who should rather prevent than abet? This must, however, be libel, for whenever I ventured a query on the point, I was met with a shrug of the shoulders and a burst of laughter. In such a case, the man who can laugh sees always more than smoke.
The father is not a negligible quantity, whatever may be said of him. I saw very plainly that it is entirely untrue that he takes no interest in his children's upbringing. I may have come across a few specimens of idle youth engaged in flinging their piastres into the gutter, but as regards heads of families, there is no comparison between the number who here are seeking distractions, illicit or otherwise, for a useless existence and those of the same type to be seen in any capital of Europe.
But while I have here said nothing that is not strictly true, I am not trying to represent the Argentine husband as the phœnix of the universe. Money is so plentiful that it may well be responsible for some sins, and, on occasions, I suspect that the city can supply opportunities of committing them. Even so, it is wise to maintain the strictest reserve on the subject, for Buenos Ayres smacks strong of the small country town, and there is abundance of pointed arrows for culprits who allow themselves to be caught. Still, as long as society has not decreed the total suppression of the bachelor....
None can deny that gambling occupies too large a place in the life of a certain number of the newly rich. But are we indeed justified in pretending to be more scandalised at what takes place amongst our neighbours than at home? What might I not write about the development of our casinos? To satisfy this vice in the masses the Argentinos have established lotteries, which now add to the temptations, powerful enough already, provided by race meetings. The evil is universal; I can but note it.
The form of gambling which is special to Buenos Ayres is unbridled speculation in land. In Europe it is constantly stated that all the work of Buenos Ayres, as of the Pampas, is done by foreigners, whilst the Argentino himself sits waiting for the value of his land to treble, quadruple, decuple his fortune without effort on his part. This might easily be true, since the value of property has risen with giddy rapidity of late years. Sooner or later, of course, there must be a reaction; this is obvious. But until that day dawns it must be admitted that, in a country where every self-respecting mortal owns a bit of land, large fortunes have been realised before the fortunate proprietor has raised as much as a finger. Our fellow-countryman M. Basset told me that on his own estate the rise in value of his waste ground allowed him to recoup himself for all he lost on his arable land. Under these circumstances, it is really not surprising if prices form a general subject of conversation. It was, in fact, on a larger scale, but with less excitement, a repetition of the Fair of Mississippi stock, in the Rue Quicampoix, with this difference, that there is here some foundation for it, though it is by no means inexhaustible.
But while there is no denying that land speculation occupies a special place in Argentine life to-day, it is also incontestable that all ranks of society are here, as elsewhere, devoting their energy to some great agricultural, commercial, or cattle-rearing enterprise. The estancia needs a head. Herds of ten thousand cows must be well looked after if they are to be productive in their three departments—dairy, meat, or breeding. The magnificent exhibits that we see at shows are not raised by the sole grace of God, and the "big Argentinos" with whom I had the privilege of chatting not only spoke of their estancias with a wealth of detail that showed a close interest, ever on the watch for improvements, but also frequently I was given to understand that they had other business which claimed part of their time. And many of them surprised me by their readiness to discuss topics of general interest that happened to be engrossing the attention of Europe at the time.
The growing interest taken in all kinds of labour on the soil and the need of perfecting strains of cattle both for breeding and for meat have led the larger owners to group themselves into a club, which they call the Jockey Club. The name suffices to denote the aristocratic pretensions of an institution that has, nevertheless, rendered important services to the cause, as well for horned cattle as for horses. The sumptuous fittings lack that rich simplicity in which the English delight. The decorations are borrowed from Europe, but the working of the club is wholly American. The greatest comfort reigns in all departments of the palace, whose luxury is not allowed to dissemble itself. The cuisine is thoroughly Parisian. Fine drawing-rooms, in which the light is pleasantly diffused. A large rotunda in Empire style is the show-place of the club, but, like Napoleon himself, it lacks moderation. A severe-looking library, reading-rooms, banqueting-rooms, etc.
To explain the amount of money either amassed or flung away here, it must be remembered that all the receipts taken at the race-courses—less a small tax to the Government—come back to the Jockey Club, which is at liberty to dispose of them at will. Hence the large fortune of the establishment, which has just purchased a piece of land in the best part of Buenos Ayres, for which it gave seven millions; and here it is proposed to erect a palace still more grandiose. I saw in the papers that the Jockey Club intends to offer to the Government the building they now occupy in the Rue Florida, and it is believed that the Foreign Office will be moved there. You see, the Argentine cattle breeders have found very comfortable quarters and enjoy themselves there.
M. Benito Villanueva, the Chairman of the Jockey Club, is a senator, extremely prominent in the business world, who joins the most superlative form of North American "go-aheadism" with the graceful urbanity of European bongarçonnisme. He is in close touch with all classes in the capital, and if he cannot be said to have a hand in everybody's business, it is certain he could if he would. People who have never set eyes on him speak of him by his Christian name, and as there are not two "Benitos" of that calibre this is accepted as a matter of course. Very unceremonious, very quick of perception, and with a dash of the modern aristocrat in his bearing, he is a manager of men who would make any sacrifice to gain his end. His small black eyes are as bright as steel, and gave me an impression that it would not be agreeable to have him for an enemy. Like any man who combines politics with large business interests, he has his adversaries, but he appears entirely oblivious of them. His estancia, the "Eldorado," with its racing stables and prize cattle, the Senate, which he attends with great regularity, and the innumerable commercial enterprises in which he is engaged (to say nothing of the admirable Jockey Club), make him one of the busiest men in Buenos Ayres. Nevertheless, he always found time to waste in my company, and showed me much both in and out of Buenos Ayres. I found every one in the capital obliging to a degree, and it would be rank injustice to place M. Benito Villanueva in a category by himself under this heading. I will only say, therefore, that if many equalled him, none surpassed him.
Who better fitted to do the honours of the Palermo racecourse than M. Villanueva? Modern arrangements, elegant fittings; no convenience missing. The Jockey Club Stand has a first-class restaurant on its upper story, where its members who are just sufficiently interested in the racing to make their bets can enjoy at the same time the pleasures of the table and a view of the winning-post. Betting is fabulously high. But the racecourse is open to the same objection as Palermo. What is to be said of the hideous embankment of yellow clay that bars the landscape? Surely the setting of a racecourse is not without its importance. As far as the convenience of the situation goes, this one leaves nothing to be desired. But really, seeing the small part played in an afternoon's racing by the events themselves, how is it that the artists who laid out this hippodrome neglected to provide a lovely view for the joy and repose of the visitors' eyes? They talk of masking the slope by plantations, but the trains that traverse the course from one end to the other will still remain visible. I have nothing against this form of amusement, though I think it almost a pity not to reserve it for the delectation of the ranchos out on the Pampas, since there is no part of the plain where it might not be enjoyed. Then the displaced railway would allow of a cutting which would let in a great flood of light as far down as Rio.
The racing public, from horses to humans, being everywhere the same, there would be nothing to say of either professionals or spectators, had I not noticed that the fair sex of Buenos Ayres, as seen in the stands, were wearing with confident grace the latest creations of Parisian fashions, and more than made up in quality for their possible inferiority in quantity as compared with a Longchamp gathering. I will not say that there were not a few errors in technical details here and there. But it was pleasant to see that some of our audacious Parisian freaks, contrary to what one might imagine, find only the faintest of echoes in these brilliant meetings. The reason is that the cunning display of eccentricities by beauties who have nothing to lose cannot here, as at home, react on the toilettes of society women by consequence of a universal search after novelties whose sole object is to attract attention. The reason is simple. In Buenos Ayres there is no demi-monde, for the few belles who cross the ocean to come here are birds of passage merely, and cannot be said to form a class. When present they avoid the grandstands of the racecourse and take refuge in the paddock, where their loneliness makes them rather an object of public pity.
Still in Señor Villanueva's company, I had the pleasure of visiting the Tigre, the finest recreation ground open to the inhabitants of Buenos Ayres. But do not be misled by the name to fancy that it is a menagerie. There were, it appears, in distant ages, some few great cats that ventured as far as the mouth of the Parana in order to steal a breakfast at the expense of the citizens of the capital. Times have greatly changed. It is now the honest Argentino who comes here to get a meal after having taken proper steps to ensure the absence of the tiger. The delta of the Parana is formed by an inextricable network of channels, dotted with innumerable islets, whose luxuriant vegetation has won for them the pretty name of a "Venice of Gardens." In all this floating land imagine trees of every kind leaning over the water as though attracted by the moving reflection of their foliage; call up a picture of orchards in the glory of their spring or autumn dress; fling amongst the groves an orgy of wild and cultivated flowers; people the shade of the branches with large and small boats filled with merry young people, whose song and laughter blend with the music of the oars, and you will have an idea of the pastimes that the Tigre can offer. Quintas, chalets, built on piles, hotels, restaurants, wine-shops, resorts of all kinds, suited to all classes of society, provide a peaceful asylum for fête days and holidays, far from the turmoil and bustle of Buenos Ayres. Following the stream upwards, past miles of wood and water, there are still more picturesque sites to be visited, where man has not yet set his hand, and the boat glides in and out of these beflowered waterways as far as Parana, whence come the big boats from Paraguay laden with oranges, their decks shining in the sunlight like some quaint palace of ruddy gold.
The Tigre is reached by railway in twenty minutes, and a skiff bespoken in advance awaits you at the station. But Señor Villanueva, whom nothing can daunt, wanted to try a new road, said to be just finished, in his motor-car. Now, carriage roads are not a strong point in this country, where no stones are to be found. However, after a journey that recalled at times the passage over the rollers at Auteuil Lock, we duly and miraculously reached the Tigre without quite wrecking the car, but not without some damage to our more sensitive and intimate organs. Wherefore we were assailed by a longing for the chaises-longues and easy-chairs of our hotel, which drew us forthwith to the booking-office of the railway-station, whence modestly and quickly we made our way back.
Since the subject of hotel furnishings thus comes under my pen, why not say at once that in the Argentine, as in Brazil, the internal arrangements of the houses show that the greater part of the time is spent out of doors? Italy, with its open-air life, was naturally the land to which the Argentino turned for architects to supply florid furniture, meant rather to look at than to use; and when to this is added cheap German goods with their clumsy designs, one may be pardoned for finding a lack of grace as of comfort, to a French way of thinking. [20] In aristocratic salons the best Parisian upholsterers have at least left their mark—with a little overcrowding in effect, if the truth must be told. In a few, where "antiques" were discernible, there were evidences of an appreciation of just proportions and simplicity. But my criticisms must be taken in the most general way possible.
It is in the hotels that one feels the farthest from Europe, and this in spite of a manifest attempt to do things well. A continual change of servants and a bad division of labour ensure infinite discomfort for the traveller. There is, it is true, central heating, but it works badly. Is the pampero blowing? The pipes of the radiators shake the window-panes with their tempestuous snorting and bubbling, waking you out of your sleep with the suddenness of their noise; but they diffuse only cold air. [21] An electric heating apparatus, hastily put in, must be used to supplement the other. Do you want to lock up some papers? You may, perhaps, after a long search, find a key in your room, but it will assuredly fit none of the locks. As I was tiresome enough to insist, the manager, anxious to oblige me, ordered his own safe to be placed in my apartment, with all his accounts therein. When I found the drawer that was placed at my disposal, I found money in it! Oh, marvellous hospitality!
To the new houses in the town chimneys are being added. The European who comes to the Argentine for the winter months—June, July, August—can be delighted with the change. But, meantime, he suffers keenly from the cold, for if the sun shines perseveringly in a cloudless sky, an icy south wind will prove very trying to Europeans who are not accustomed to such sharp contrasts. [22] As for the summer season, which I have not tried, every one talked of its charms, the greatest being, apparently, to go and wipe one's brow at the Tigre, at Mar del Plata, or on the estancia, in default of the mountain resorts within reach of the Brazilians.
It is difficult to speak of Argentine cookery—which is rather international than local—always excepting those households that boast a French chef. The influence of Italy, with her macaroni and her cheese, predominates. The vegetables are mediocre; the fruit too tropical, or, if European, spoilt by the effect of the tropics. Lobsters and European fish, imported frozen, are not to be recommended; table water is excellent. The national dishes, puchero, or boiled beef, good when the animal has not been slaughtered the same morning; asado, lamb, roasted whole—savoury souvenir of my excursions in Greece, where it is to be met under the name of lamb à la palikare. I might add a long list whose sole interest would be the strange-sounding names given to familiar dishes. Still, as the main conditions of man and communities are necessarily unvarying, is it not in appearances and forms of expression that we find variety?