At the ceremony of closing Congress in November, 1874, Dr. Tomas Frias, the reigning president, who was, I believe, upwards of eighty years of age, carried himself right royally, and read his speech to the deputies with quite as much hauteur as a crowned monarch might be expected to employ. He was answered by the President of the Congress, who congratulated the members upon the termination of their labours, which, as far as I could discover, had consisted mainly of squabbling amongst themselves and vilifying the government. The result of their labours soon proved to be disastrous in the extreme, for the country was again in revolution within less than a fortnight after the closing of the session. If the members could have agreed together upon a ministry to replace the then existing, one, peace would have been preserved; but though the majority worked well together in abusing all who were then in office under Dr. Frias, they could not at all agree as to their successors. Under these circumstances the government encouraged the Congress in wasting time in fruitless recriminations and discussions until the closing day came, when, as the deputies were anxious to return to their respective districts before the rainy season should set in and render the roads impassable, they easily succeeded in hurrying a short bill through the house, giving them powers to raise a revenue equal to that of the previous budget. The government were thus masters of the field, but were not left in peaceable possession very long, for as Daza’s battalion, which was then in Sucre, was the only one that had received any pay for many months, the other battalions, termed the second and third, then stationed near Cochabamba, took the opportunity of the return of General Quevedo from Congress to revolt and declare him president of the republic, vice Frias, to be deposed in due course. It is quite possible that Quevedo thought the second and third battalions were not strong enough to fight “Daza’s Own;” but, anyhow, he refused to head the proposed revolution, and endeavoured to induce the revolted troops to remain quietly in their barracks, promising to represent their claims to the government at Sucre. But Daza, seeing an opportunity of ridding himself of one of his probable rivals for the presidency, managed to get the government to decree that Quevedo had incited the soldiery to rebel. He then made a declaration of steadfast attachment to Frias, and marched to Cochabamba to put down a revolution which would never have existed but for his violence. This was his programme, but his real object was to get Quevedo into his power, succeeding in which, he most probably would have had him shot without any trial; indeed, it was currently reported that he had said publicly that he would do so. This threat coming to Quevedo’s knowledge, made him pause while on his return to Sucre to lay the complaints of the soldiery before the government, and obliged him to take measures to secure his own personal safety. His partisans, in various parts of the republic, then very unwisely rose in his favour, and attempted to take possession of Oruro and Cochabamba; but, as they were very badly armed, totally undisciplined, and almost entirely without leaders, they were soon beaten and dispersed. There was a good deal of desultory fighting, and a number of the revolutionists, under a Dr. Miguel Aguirre, entrenched themselves in Cochabamba, where they were attacked by President Frias and General Daza. Daza’s star was, however, in the ascendant, and though the besiegers were driven to great straits for ammunition, so much so that if the Quevedistas had attacked vigorously they must have been victorious, after about a week’s fighting the revolutionists withdrew, and left the city in the hands of Daza, who shortly after followed up his victory so rapidly, that near La Paz, at the battle of Chacomo, the revolutionary party were utterly defeated, their leader, Quevedo having to fly to Puno in Peru, the usual sanctuary of losers in the political struggles of Bolivia. This crushing defeat of the revolutionists, who included partisans both of Quevedo and Corral, ought to have had the effect of firmly establishing the civil power of the state, exemplified in the person of the venerable President Frias; but Daza, who had probably fermented the rebellion even while he combated it, would not be satisfied with a settlement that did not fully realize his ambition. Revolution therefore again raised its hydra-head; and Daza, making terms with a Dr. Oblitas of Cochabamba, one of the most unscrupulous partisans of Quevedo, soon drove poor Dr. Frias from the country, and reaching the summit of a Bolivian’s aspirations, installed himself in the coveted presidential palace. Here we will leave him, hoping that the reports which have reached England of his changed demeanour now that he has obtained the supreme power, have some truth in them, and that his country, as I fear it will, may not progress, land-crab fashion, backwards to the miserable state of tyranny and oppression under which it groaned and suffered in the times of Belzu and Melgarejo.
CHAPTER XXVI.
The Prado of Sucre—Belzu’s Rotunda—The President’s evening constitutional—Personal politics—Quevedo’s birthday banquet—Dancing with the general—Ball at the Chilian Embassy—Baile caramba!—Environs of Sucre—La Paz not visited on account of revolution in progress—Routes to ocean and home—Santa Cruz, Curumbá, and the Paraguay—Oran and the Vermejo—Tarija and Cinti—Cinti wines and spirits—Cobija and Desert of Atacama—Silver mines of Caracoles, etc.—Encroachments by Chili—Official report on the Desert of Atacama, published by the Government of Chili—Description of the road to Tacna and Arica commenced—Preparations for journey—Servants and their pay—“Postas”—Buying and selling mules—A few requisites for a land journey.
Before leaving Sucre notice should Be taken of the public gardens here, called the “Prado,” although in other towns the gardens are generally termed “alamédas.” The prado occupies a very fine site on the outskirts of the city, and might, with a slight amount of judicious expenditure, be made an exceedingly beautiful recreation-ground. The site slopes gently downwards from the city to a ravine, and an attempt at hanging gardens has been introduced, but the idea has not been fully developed, the poverty or apathy of the municipality having allowed the whole affair to remain in an unfinished state. Notwithstanding this, I must allow that some little care has been bestowed in the way of beds of flowers, gravel walks, and seats, etc., so that the prado of Sucre has not such a melancholy look as the alaméda of Cochabamba, which was entirely deserted and neglected by the authorities of that town. During my stay in Sucre, I, at the request of a friend, designed a plan for completing the prado; and presented the drawings to the municipality, who acknowledged my labours by a courteous letter of thanks. The designs were framed and placed upon the walls of the council chamber, but I soon found that there was not public spirit enough in the august body of councillors to carry out the work, although the cost would have been trifling, considering the improvements that would have been effected. I have no doubt that my plans are still hanging on the wall, a memorial of labour thrown away; but as I was only en route through the city, I had no intention of making profit out of the execution of the work, and probably as there was no scope for making a job out of it, the apathy of the councillors is easily accounted for.
At the bottom of the prado is a rotunda, erected by General Belzu, to commemorate his escape from the bullet of an assassin, who attacked him at that spot whilst he was enjoying his evening stroll. By the way, this evening stroll, or one may almost call it “parade,” of the president, seems to be an established institution in Sucre, for every evening the venerable Doctor Frias, followed by two aide-de-camps, was accustomed to take his daily constitutional. General Quevedo, who was looked upon as the probable future president, was also in the habit of taking exercise about the same time, but as he was only a candidate for the presidency he was not able to have a military escort, although he never lacked a goodly following of the younger members of his party; and on Sunday evenings and fiesta days, it was quite amusing to see the parade of the different political sets. On these occasions a visitor had frequent opportunities of observing that the rancour and ill-feeling that existed between the several parties was evidently not caused by differences of political feeling, but rather by personal hatred; for any chance that occurred of offering a slight insult one to the other, such as occupying the centre of the path, or the best seat, was eagerly made use of, and on several occasions I quite expected to see the pocket revolvers drawn and made free use of; certainly, if fierce looks could have wounded opponents, they were freely given and returned. I have mentioned before that politics in Bolivia are purely personal, and in the case of the Quevedistas I can quite understand why they were so, for a more amiable and pleasant man than General Quevedo it has rarely been my lot to meet. I remember well the anniversary of his birthday that occurred on the 31st of October, 1874. His friends then gave him a supper at his lodgings in Sucre, and it was very pleasant to see the zeal with which every one present joined in doing him honour by toasting him in champagne while it lasted, and afterwards in bitter beer. After the banquet a number of speeches followed, some of which were exceedingly eloquent, though, perhaps, a trifle too bombastic in style. This part of the ceremony over, the company could not separate without further testifying its enthusiasm by an impromptu ball; but, as it was a bachelor’s party, this part of the entertainment promised to become rather slow, until the general got on his feet to acknowledge the good feeling of his entertainers by dancing a “baile suelta,” or Spanish dance, with each one in succession. At home we should, perhaps, fancy it rather a queer proceeding on the part of one of our leading statesmen, if after their whitebait dinner, or other friendly gathering, they were to perform a Highland fling or hornpipe with each of their political supporters, but in Bolivia it is quite en règle; and as in Rome one must do as the Romans do, I joined with great gusto in the ceremony, and had the honour of specially trotting out the general in a grand pas de deux à l’Anglais. As the company present were all of one political colour, the utmost good humour prevailed, and notwithstanding the absurdity of the affair, I think we all enjoyed the evening thoroughly.
Talking of dancing reminds me of a very different affair that took place whilst I was in Sucre, when the Chilian minister gave a splendid ball at his residence to celebrate the treaty of boundaries that by skilful diplomacy he had obtained from the Bolivian Congress. The house tenanted by the minister was the property of the Melgarejo family, and, as is usual in the best buildings throughout not only Bolivia, but most Spanish South American countries, was built in the form of a square enclosing a handsome “patio,” or court, which was roofed in with awnings for the occasion; while the side walls being decorated with flags and a profusion of lamps, the effect of the whole was very charming when “the lights shone o’er fair women,” for the élite of Sucre were present, the fair Chuquisaqueñas coming out very strong both in numbers and in quality. The rest of the quotation as to the “brave men,” is perhaps best omitted, although the Bolivian race bears a high reputation for courage amongst South American people; indeed, there is a story current, that after a battle in Peru in which the Bolivians succeeded in capturing the entire Peruvian army, the Bolivian commander had the Peruvians formed up in line, when, placing his own band of music in the front, he ordered the unfortunate prisoners to dance to the tune, exclaiming “Baile caramba!” and the story goes that the Peruvians obeyed the strange order rather than be shot down by their conquerors. I could never obtain exact information as to the date or place of this occurrence, but every Bolivian firmly believes it to have happened, so much so that the words “Baile, etc.!” accompanied with an offensive expression, are universally used in depreciation of the Peruvians; but a traveller’s idea of Bolivian bravery would, I think, be that it is rather of a Falstaffian order, “much cry and little wool.”
To return however to our particular “baile,” altogether about 500 people were present, and the evening was a great success, although at one time it ran great risk of coming to an untimely end, owing to the imprudence of the chief of the embassy, who, possibly elated by his diplomatic victory, aided, perhaps, by the exhilarating effects of Clicquot and Mumm, so far lost his balance as to inform one of his fair partners, a lady of one of the best families of the town, that she was an angel, but that she had married a brute of a husband. This pleasant remark was unfortunately overheard by the happy “brute,” who very pluckily at once reclaimed his bride, and having placed her under the protection of her mother, he sought the Chilian, and challenged him to immediate mortal combat out in the street. Mutual friends intervened to prevent the further progress of a dispute that looked ugly enough, and dancing being kept up with vigour matters quieted down. The next day the Chilian apologized, and although the gossips of Sucre kept the squabble alive as long as possible, nothing more came of it.
Beyond the public buildings and conventual establishments to which I have already referred, Sucre offers nothing of interest to a traveller, who, unless he has business to transact or friends to visit, is likely to make his stay in the town as brief as possible, for although the climate of Sucre is almost as good as that of Cochabamba, its environs do not offer any special attractions for short excursions. The only places near that are worthy of notice, are Huata, which has already been described, and where the thermal spring repays the visitor’s trouble with a grateful and welcome bath. On the road to Potosí, a ride of about a couple of hours brings one to a village called Nutshucc, where the wealthier inhabitants of Sucre have built their “quintas,” or country residences. The road goes out on the south side of the town, and, as usual, is taken up a ravine, which at the time I rode up it had a good deal of water, in places reaching to the horse’s girths.
But this being on my way to the Pacific, and my business in Bolivia being completed with the close of the Congress, I may continue the description of my journey, first premising that at Sucre a homeward-bound traveller will probably determine which route he will take towards ocean and home. My business engagements rendering it of the greatest urgency that I should arrive in England with as little delay as possible, I chose the shortest land journey viâ Potosí, Oruro, and Tacna to Arica on the Pacific coast. I greatly regretted having to leave Bolivia without visiting La Paz (which is the first city of the republic in regard to commerce and population, although politically second to Sucre), but owing to the revolution having made its head-quarters there, it was impossible to find “muleteros” that would expose their animals to the risk of being taken either for the service of the revolution or of the government, so that I was forced to give up the idea of visiting La Paz, and must therefore refer intending travellers to other writers for a description of that city.