Brazil and La Plata: The personal record of a cruise

by C. S. Stewart

February 24th.—On Washington’s birthday, the 22d inst., Mr. Harris, the American chargé d’affaires, gave a banquet to Commodore McKeever, and others of his fellow countrymen, visitors and residents in the city. The evening of the same day had been appointed for the reception of the commodore by “the governor,” as Rosas is here styled. A government-house, covering the area of half a square, in the centre of the city, has recently been completed by the chieftain. It encloses quadrangle after quadrangle of spacious and elegantly furnished apartments, but is visited only occasionally by him for a few brief hours, at uncertain times. His chosen, and, indeed, only residence, properly so called, is the palatial quinta, or country-house of Palermo de San Benito, situated in the midst of an extensive domain, on the banks of the Plata, three or four miles west of the city. I most readily accepted an invitation to be of the party, glad to avail myself of the opportunity for a sight of the tiger in his den. Pardon the figure, but I have heard so much of his bloody ferocity in subduing the people to his abject rule, that no other will so well express my sense of his nature, and of the mysterious and guarded retirement of his present life: an unchained monster, in the security of a well-protected lair. The prospect of the interview revived in fresh force all I had ever heard and read of his atrocious deeds; and the anticipation of being in his presence, was not without the superstitious feeling of being exposed by it to the hazard of the “evil eye.” There was no certainty, however, notwithstanding the appointment, that an interview with him would take place. He is so arbitrary and so capricious in his imperious rule, as to pay little regard to the ordinary civilities of life; and makes not only his own ministers and people abide his whims and pleasure, but diplomatic agents and foreign ambassadors also, are often obliged to dance attendance by the hour in his ante-rooms, without an audience, if such be his will. In the exercise of this despotic habit, however, one redeeming, and—socially, if not diplomatically—compensating indulgence is ever granted to such persons: the presence and smiles, the spirited conversation and the winning grace and manner of his accomplished daughter, the Doña Manuelita de Rosas. Of a reception by her we were sure.

We set off at a sufficiently early hour to allow time for a view of the grounds of Palermo before nightfall; and followed the same route I had taken with Mr. D——. At the distance of a mile from the city, after having crossed the common along the beach, we entered a broad and straight macadamized avenue, scientifically constructed, and in fine order. It is enclosed on either side by a neat iron railing, and is bordered with plantations of willow, and furnished with handsome lamp-posts and lamps for the night. It is a public road, constructed by Rosas: commencing at Palermo and to be extended to the city, and is still in progress. At the end of a mile and a half, a similar, but more beautiful avenue branches from this, and forms the private entrance to the domain, leading directly in front of the palace-like domicil of the Dictator. It is a half mile in length, is lined with orange trees in addition to the willows; and, besides these, is separated from the public road which runs parallel with it, by a broad and deep canal of brick-work. This private road is formed of sea-shell, and is as white and hard as so much marble. All dust is kept down by the sprinkling of water; while the sward on either side, clipt with the care of an English lawn, through the same means is ever in living freshness. The orange trees are nurtured with great care, and are frequently washed with brush and soap-suds, leaf by leaf, by persons in charge of them. As we passed, numerous peons, in the gay and picturesque dress of the country, were seen engaged in this process on a kind of step ladder, by which access was had to every part of each tree. Equal care is taken of them in the winter season, by enclosing each in a temporary house, to guard against the effect of frost. A nearer approach brought us to a cantonment of soldiers, consisting of a village of regularly disposed brick huts, of uniform construction. A park of artillery was near by, and clusters of soldiers in scarlet ponchos and petticoat-like chiripas were grouped on every side. These multiplied in number to the very doors of the villa.

The first impression, as we drove rapidly through this imagery, was striking and peculiar: the picture, in its still life, was one of high civilization and princely expenditure not anticipated; but one, strongly marked in all that gave animation to it, with evidences of a demi-savage state. But for these—the Indian-like costume, the dark and wild countenances, and the savage knives seen sticking in the belts of the soldiers and peons—one might almost have believed himself on the shores of the Zuyder Zee: so dead is the level of the ground; while the broad and deep canals of finished workmanship, the artificial lakelets, aquatic plants and water-fowl, the gay parterres and embanked terraces, presented imagery answering well to a scene in Holland. Every thing, too, was in straight lines; roads, canals, plantations, and the villa itself. This is a parallelogram, having a rectangular pavilion projecting from each angle. It stands on one corner of two intersecting avenues, presenting a façade of two hundred and sixty feet front and rear, by one of two hundred and fifty on either side. It is one story in height, and the architecture throughout uniform. A wide corridor, supported by heavy arches, runs around the whole. All the apartments open by doors and French windows upon this, as well as upon a quadrangular court within. The roof is flat, and is surrounded by an iron balustrade, ornamented at regular and short intervals by a kind of demi-turret, having the effect of a like number of chimneys, a purpose to which many of them are, in fact, appropriated. The preparations for the reception, in a guard of honor, to present arms as the commodore should alight, were not at the principal front, but at the farthest angle of the most western pavilion, on the garden front. We thus passed two sides of the structure before being set down. We were then conducted through a spacious saloon of state, to the corridor or arcade on the east end of the building, again through the length of this to the extreme eastern pavilion on the front, past which we had first driven—thus making the circuit of the entire establishment, before being ushered into the private drawing-room of Doña Manuelita. We found her standing here with two female companions in waiting, and were received with the cordiality and affability of long acquaintance.

This daughter of “the governor” is probably the most remarkable woman in South America: certainly so, as the impersonation of a government, which she confessedly is, and the only visible agent of its influence and power. Rosas himself, in his official position, is a kind of invisible personage—never, on any occasion, or under any circumstances, making his appearance publicly. It is said there are thousands of people in Buenos Ayres who have never seen him. A sight of him may often be caught in his grounds, superintending a gang of workmen, or perhaps witnessing the punishment, even to death, of a soldier, or some victim who is suffering, justly or unjustly, the penalty of the law or of his displeasure. He may be seen, too, at times, talking and jesting with the fishermen along the shore of the river on his domain, or driving Jehu-like, in the dead of the night, from Palermo to the city, or from the city to Palermo: it being his habit, from motives of policy, to make his appearance suddenly, at an hour, and under circumstances least to be expected; but never in public, in his appropriate place as chief magistrate and head of the people. On all public occasions, and in all public places, Manuelita alone appears as his representative; and as the embodiment of his will and the channel of his favor, receives the homage of sovereignty. While she acts no unimportant part in the negotiations of diplomacy and in foreign affairs, she is, virtually, the minister both of the “Interior” and of “Justice” in the government, tempering with mercy, as far as in her power, every act of oppression, and diffusing, in name at least, a semblance of benevolence wherever her influence reaches. Four hours of each morning are appropriated by her, to the receipt of petitions, the hearing of individual grievances and applications for redress. For this object, a bureau with a regular set of secretaries is established, where records are made of all cases brought before her, for her own decision, or for the intervention of her influence with her father. As may be rightly inferred from these facts, she is a woman of talent and judgment, and of infinite tact. Her age is thirty-five. She is of good height and fine figure, has regular and good features, black hair and eyes, with a beaming and benignant expression, and in complexion is a Spanish brunette. Her manners are graceful and winning, her conversation animated and playful, with a word of complaisance and a smile of kindness to all who approach, and are around her. Though a polished and elegant woman, she affects nothing of the stately dignity and lofty bearing of some of the aristocratic and high-bred whom I have seen—but has the easy, self-possessed, frank and cordial air, often met in every-day society. She is said to be exceedingly popular, and to be sincerely beloved by the people: as well she may be, if she does, indeed, exert the immense influence for good, which is reported of, and claimed by her friends for her, in softening, by acts of clemency and womanly mercy, the iron rule of her father.

Scarlet, or the veritable blood-tint, is the prescribed color of the government, and the silent, though exacted pledge of allegiance to the chief in power. Every man and boy under his rule, must don at all times the scarlet waistcoat, scarlet hatband, and the scarlet breast-ribbon, stamped with the motto of death to his political opponents. Women and girls, also, of every rank and all ages, must exhibit the scarlet ribbon in their hair or head-dress. It was no surprise, therefore, to see the Doña and her ladies, on a hot evening in midsummer, arrayed in scarlet silk bareges of large plaid, over under-dresses of white, with the scarlet ribbon and its savage motto, streaming among the tresses of their black hair. The predominating hue of the reception room—in the hangings of the walls, the draperies of the windows, and the carpet, was of the same color. This apartment is lofty and spacious. A grand piano and harp were conspicuous among its furniture.

The usual apology was made,—the pressure of important business—for the delay in the appearance of the governor, with the gracious assurance, however, that he would give audience to the commodore; and it was proposed, in the mean time, to take a view of the grounds, before nightfall. This we did, under the guidance of the sprightly and accomplished mistress of ceremonies and her ladies. They are very extensive, in a perfection of order, and in many respects novel and striking; but are too full of straight lines for beauty and artistic effect. The whole domain is a dead level—a swamp redeemed by draining and embankments from the overflowings of the river, and the quagmires of a marsh. The sums expended in transforming it into a paradise, compared with every thing around, are beyond all estimate; and make the place, at least in the outlay of money and labor, the most princely estate in either North or South America. The predominating growth in trees is the willow, imparting to the whole a sombre aspect; but the flower-gardens and shrubberies are brilliant in the display of colors, and sweet in the variety and richness of their perfume. A paved court extends along the arcades around the whole building. On the two sides communicating with the lawns, this court is enclosed by parterres of choice flowers, elevated three or four feet upon walls, and ornamented at regular distances by classically modelled urns and vases, also crowned and festooned with floral beauty. The effect of both is ornamental and pretty.

A rustic arbor with a dome-shaped top, overrun with clustering roses, woodbine, and sweetbrier, and encircled with busts in marble on pedestals, and one or two full-length figures in plaster, was specially commended to our notice, as the favorite retreat of Doña Manuelita. Not far from it, on the lawn, is a humble whitewashed cottage—the first domicil of Rosas on taking possession of the estate. It is scarcely superior, in its aspect and accommodations, to the rancho of a common peon: but is retained in its original state as a memento of the past, or possibly for contrast with the courtly splendor of the present establishment.

Some years ago, an American brigantine, at anchor in the river, was driven by a violent storm and flood, high and dry into the woods of Palermo. Its restoration to the water was impracticable. She was still stanch and uninjured, both in hull and spars, and Rosas, in place of permitting her to be broken up for the sale of the material, purchased the craft with the purpose of converting her, as she stood, into a pavilion of pleasure. Brought to an even keel, she was substantially underpinned; and thus firmly moored, and, remodelled between decks into a dancing saloon and refreshment rooms, is a favorite place for the entertainment of select parties in summer. It is situated a half mile from the house, and our walk extended to it.

As we returned to the quinta, the shades of the evening were beginning to fall. Two of the pavilions mentioned as being attached to the angles of the main building—those on the garden front—are unenclosed by walls, each forming an open saloon, furnished with ranges of crimson sofas, on which beneath the protecting roof, the cool of the evening may be enjoyed with uninterrupted views on every side. Into the most retired of these we were now conducted; and, while standing in a group in the centre, with our faces directed to the lawn and shrubbery, I perceived a figure stealthily approaching from behind, without the warning even of a footfall, till a little pliant riding-whip of polished whalebone, mounted with red coral, was playfully tapped on the bare shoulder of the Doña. Turning suddenly, as if in surprise, she exclaimed in a tone of pleasure and affection—“Tatita!” a diminutive of fondness by which she addresses and speaks of her father; and following her example in a change of position, we found ourselves in the presence of the far-famed Ruler. Though the place and circumstances of our presentation were seemingly thus accidental, both doubtless were of previous arrangement, to give greater informality to the audience. Rosas is now a thick-set, portly man of sixty, of medium height, with finely marked and well chiselled features, and of florid complexion. In youth and middle age he is said to have been remarkably handsome. The feature which first and most deeply arrested my attention was a piercing, restless, fiery eye of grayish blue. Whether from previous prejudice or not, to me its expression seemed singularly devoid of ingenuousness and benignity—indeed, to be positively sinister and tiger-like. His dress was a round-jacket of dark blue, with small military buttons; the inevitable scarlet waistcoat, ribbon, and motto; and an undress military cap, with the visor drawn low over his eyebrows. His manner and address were common-place and familiar, without any mingling of the dignity of the Spanish Hidalgo in high position.

After an interchange of salutations, and some brief conversation on indifferent topics, he led the way, with Commodore McKeever by his side, through the long, intervening arcade to the drawing room in the front pavilion, in which we had first been received. Here, seated in an angle of the lofty apartment, with the leading gentlemen of our party on his right, and his daughter and her ladies on the left, he at once took the lead in conversation, running loquaciously from subject to subject of trifling importance, and often interlarding his statements and opinions with low anecdote and vulgar details, unfit “for ears polite,” much less for the hearing of women of delicacy and refinement.