SECOND TRIP.
On my return to Rio on Saturday, the 11th of April I found the City of Brussels had arrived after a very quick passage from Falmouth of twenty days, and she was leaving next morning (Sunday) for the River; so I resolved to go by her and complete my visit, which had been so recently unfortunately interrupted. A difficulty occurred, owing to the police requiring me to give three days' notice in the public papers of my intention to leave, and they refused to visa the passport I brought with me, though it had already served on other similar occasions. The only way to get over the obstacle was to take a surety to the police office, who would be responsible for any debts I might have contracted, and after driving backwards and forwards for some hours, at considerable trouble and expense, this requirement was satisfied. This absurd and vexatious system of passports is one of the old relics of barbarism which Brazil ought to do away with, and the sooner the better; nor is it any protection against roguery, as every one knows how easily such regulations are evaded in the latter case. Countries like Brazil ought to be as free as the air, and all possible facility given to travellers who only come for information or amusement, and have no business relations. Passports do not exist in the Great Republic of the North, and France has abolished them, so let us hope Brazil will follow in the wake, and evince equal liberality in dealing with passengers' luggage.
We were to leave at 8 a.m. on Sunday, but were detained for dispatches until ten, and finally passed the fort at 11 a.m., with a light wind but much swell, indicating a southerly wind, of which we got the benefit the next day. I may mention that the City of Brussels is a splendid new steamer of Tait's line, and made the first departure under their contract with the Belgian Government. At Antwerp a grand entertainment had been given to the authorities on the day of her departure, and on Saturday a party was entertained on board at Rio.
After encountering rather a strong southerly gale, we made the River on Thursday night, and came to an anchor off Monte Video early on Friday, the passage having been run in five days. It blew so hard, with so much swell on, that it was some time before we got on shore, on reaching which I went to my old quarters at the Gran Hotel Americano, meeting several old friends there. The aspect of Monte Video was greatly changed for the better since my last visit, when the cholera was making such fearful ravages and an air of activity pervaded the place, notwithstanding the sad tragedy which had occurred in the assassination of General Flores. Rumours of political troubles still prevailed, but there was nothing on the surface to indicate them, and the nightly gathering on the Plaza to hear the band had been resumed, although for some time after the murder of the President the Plaza was held by troops and guns planted at the corner of it.
A visit to Buchentall's quinta occupied the greater part of one day, and a delightful place it is, enclosed in spacious grounds, provided with choice trees, beautiful exotics, a large conservatory, and other glass houses; in fact, with everything which a cultivated taste can devise. There is a large kitchen garden attached, and quite a plantation of pear trees, loaded with splendid pears, for which Monte Video is famous. The stables and farm buildings are extensive, and, like the house, they are in the Swiss cottage style; they are tenanted by fine horses, valuable cows, and other descriptions of cattle. Everything is in perfect order. The view from the upper ground, at the back of the house, is very fine—the city, the harbour filled with shipping, and the mounts at its entrance, the waters of the La Plata glistening beyond in the sunlight. It is a bright, beautiful day, and certainly at this season the climate is very agreeable, so different from the intense heat experienced in the month of January. After leaving the quinta, we extended our drive, passing by many pretty country houses, some of peculiar but tasteful architecture, and stopped at a house on the road side, kept by a Frenchman, where we got an excellent cold luncheon and drove back to the city.
Expecting the steamer to sail the same night, we embarked before dark, but were disappointed, the cargo not being all discharged. We did not get away until next evening. Had we known this we might have seen the races, which took place the following morning, to see which I believe more than half the population turned out, the Custom House and public buildings being closed. South Americans are fond of excitement, though horse-racing is comparatively a new amusement for them, being chiefly got up by foreigners. Whilst at dinner on Monday afternoon, the wind, which had been blowing moderately from the north, suddenly veered round to the south, and soon after we left the harbour increased to a pampero, causing a nasty cross sea and a very disagreeable motion in the ship, which sent most of the passengers to bed early. It is not a very pleasant navigation in such weather, with banks lying in the way, and shallow water in many places, and we were glad when daylight came to find ourselves near the outer roads of Buenos Ayres. This exposed roadstead, having to lie so far from the shore, is a great drawback, rendering the expense of discharging and loading very heavy, but there is no help for it, nor any prospect of improvement in this respect. They have very fine boats and lighters, with first-rate boatmen, and, as a rule, accidents are rare, unless when the fierce pamperos drive everything before them.
This is my second visit to Buenos Ayres, after a lapse of 15 years, and, although from the sea no remarkable change appears to the eye, yet, after landing, the enormous increase of the city soon becomes apparent, about which I shall say more presently. The Mole and Custom House were new to me, as also the landing pier for boats—a very great convenience and improvement on the old carts, into which you had to get from the boat. The weather, which had been cool at Monte Video, became positively cold here, cloaks and great coats being the order of the day. It is now approaching the coldest season of the year, with some sharp frost at night, which has blackened the potatoes and other vegetables outside the city; and the sunny side of the street is decidedly preferable to the shady one, a very different state of things to that which existed when I was at Monte Video, in January, with the heat frequently above 90 degrees.