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.
A CHACO FLOOD.
Vol. II. To face p. 214.
"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.