Up the Amazon and Madeira rivers, through Bolivia and Peru

by Edward D. Mathews

From the material of which the houses are composed, the town and its environs have a strange and somewhat dull and heavy appearance, notwithstanding that the houses are mostly built as lightly as possible, in order the better to withstand the frequently occurring earthquakes. The walls are generally lath, plastered over with mud, or adobes, one brick in thickness; and the roofs are also of mud, tempered so well that even the intense heat of the sun does not cause it to crack. These roofs are made in a very peculiar shape, and generally the houses have quite the appearance of toy houses; but at night, when the windows are opened and the interiors well lit up, they look very cheerful and lively. The streets are broad and kept very clean, with gaslights in the principal ones. The plazas are neat, though small, and there is a prettily arranged garden with an elegant cast-iron fountain in the principal square, where the “society” of Tacna meet in the cool of the evening to enjoy a promenade, enlivened by the strains of a military band.

The commerce of Tacna is undoubtedly of very important character; but one sees at a glance that the only raison d’être of the city is its being situated on the one exit practicable at present for Bolivia to the Pacific coast. There are no Peruvian towns in communication with Tacna. The long lines of donkeys and mules seen continually entering or leaving the town, are all either destined for, or coming from, the neighbouring republic of Bolivia, and the few merchants with whom I conversed seemed to have the idea that the realization of the Madeira and Mamoré Railway would materially affect their trade.

After having rested a night in a bed that was a real luxury after our long ride and rough quarters, and having had a look round the town, we arranged that we would leave for Arica in time to catch the first steamer for Callao, leaving on the 23rd of the month. We then presented our letters of introduction, one that I had to a German merchant being very serviceable, for, like all Germans with whom it has been my good fortune to meet abroad, this gentleman was exceedingly kind and disposed to serve one in any way possible. The streets of Tacna are well supplied with shops and stores of every kind. Drapers, hatters, shoemakers, and others all make a great display of their wares, which, like most of their confrères in our European towns, they are always selling at a great sacrifice. The latest French fashions soon make their appearance in Tacna, and “La Bella Boliviana,” the “Bon Marché,” and other establishments, have always a good display of the most tempting materials of dress, which they sell at reasonable prices, considering the long route they have had to be brought over, either by Panamá or the Straits of Magellan.

As there is nothing in the neighbourhood of Tacna worthy a visit, the four days I had to wait would have hung very heavily on my hands had it not been for the occupation I found in trying to sell my mules, which, having landed me safely as far as they could take me, were now of no further service. But buyers, thinking that I must sell at any price on account of my leaving for Europe, thought it, as usual, one of their many opportunities for making a good bargain out of travellers from the interior, and would not offer anything like reasonable prices. Thus, for five mules, costing nearly 1100 pesos, of which four were in excellent condition considering the long journey and hard work they had gone through, the best offer I could get was 600 pesos, or little more than half the cost; and I was advised by my merchant friends of the place that this offer was not a very low one, and probably only made because of the very excellent character of two machos, these being so strong and sound as to be valuable as “pianeras,” or pianoforte carriers. I offered to sell the lot for 1000 pesos, and to give in with the bargain my travelling cot, a revolver, a couple of excellent “tapa cargas,” and all the “aparejos,” or pack saddles and gear. These sundries would all be very useful to intending travellers, and were well worth at least another 100 pesos. However, I could not find a buyer at my price, and therefore determined to sell the mule that was in worst condition, and send the others back to Bolivia for sale there, as our two mozos had to return, and would require at least three animals for their journey. Sometimes it happens that travellers bringing servants down from Bolivia are lucky enough to meet others returning, who will engage the mozos, and thus save the first hirer further expense; but the revolution going on had stopped all business between Tacna and the interior. The result of the course adopted was, that instead of losing about 500 or 600 pesos (nearly £100), I only lost about 100, or £15, which was the cost of fodder for the animals and rations to the mozos on their return journey to Sucre. True, I ran the risk of losing the animals altogether in the revolution that was then going on; but fortune favoured me, and they got back to Sucre safely, as I had calculated that they would; for I knew the boys would naturally be very averse to being pressed into the service of either the government or the revolutionists, and would give both parties a wide berth should they come across either of them on their way back. There is no doubt that the best and only way to avoid loss in realizing the cost of the animals necessary for crossing the Andes, is to buy the best class of mules, and, if the journey ends at Tacna, send them back to Bolivia, where they are always worth their cost; and one can generally manage to draw the value of the mules returning, from one of the mercantile houses of Tacna, less a small commission for selling the mules in Bolivia.

We left Tacna, on the morning of the 23rd, by the ten o’clock train, arriving at Arica about mid-day, the distance being about forty miles, and the fare three pesos for first class, and four reales for each package of luggage. The line runs over a sandy plain like that on which Tacna is situated. At times a small cutting had been made; but there were none more than some six to eight feet deep, and very few banks, and only two or three bridges. The rail used is a flat-footed one, of perhaps sixty-five pounds per yard, and the road is very well maintained, being well ballasted and boxed up. Nearing Arica the road runs close along by the sea, and we saw several remains of the effects of the great hurricane wave of 1869. The hull of a steamer of perhaps 600 or 800 tons, was quite a quarter of a mile inshore, where it had been deposited by the retiring wave; and there was a great deal of damaged and now valueless machinery scattered along the line of railway and sea-coast.

The Peruvian coast offers very little facility to shipping, and most of its ports, except Callao, are scarcely more than open roadsteads. Arica has been built at a small bay which has a few rocky islands to defend it from the south winds. The town, never very large, is now much reduced in size, the greater part of the inhabitants living in huts built up of tarpaulins, boards, etc., placed well up the side of the hill, apparently to be out of the way of another earthquake wave. The custom-house has been rebuilt with brick walls and zinc roof; a small church also has zinc roofing—an article which enters largely into the composition of all the houses, and gives the place a very temporary and make-shift look. There is a neat pier, erected on six-inch wrought-iron piles, which enables passengers to embark clear of the surf. The steamship Lima being in port, we took tickets at the mail-agent’s office, paying 353 soles each for passage to Southampton, and thirty soles each fare over the Panamá Railway, and at once went on board, leaving Arica about five in the afternoon. The Lima is a very long and narrow screw boat, with state cabins on deck, and she rolled considerably from having her main decks crowded with bullocks, and her upper deck littered up with merchandize of all sorts. Indeed, her upper deck was in the utmost confusion, caused by a peculiar practice which exists on nearly all the Pacific Steam Navigation Company’s boats. This is, that dealers in all kinds of provisions are allowed to take passages principally between Valparaiso and Callao, and exhibit their wares on the deck, so that the ship is completely cumbered with their goods, and the crew have little chance of managing the ship properly. The practice may remunerate the company, as each dealer pays according to the space of the deck that he occupies, but passengers are greatly inconvenienced and endangered thereby.

The next day, Sunday, we passed Islay, Mollendo, the shipping port for the railway to Arequipa and Puno, and Quilpa, stopping only to land and receive passengers. On Monday we spent the greater part of the day at Lomas, shipping sugar, rum, and bullocks. This place consists of about half a dozen huts only, and the coast is as arid and wretched-looking as the whole line of the Pacific coast really is. It is said, however, that there is good cultivable land, with haciendas for sugar and pôtreros, or grazing grounds for cattle, a few leagues inland. The Tuesday was passed principally at Pisco, a dull and miserable-looking place, worthy of note only for its capital aguadiente, or white rum, said to be made from grapes, but probably made from sugar-cane. It is, however, a very pure spirit, and an opportunity of tasting it genuine should not be neglected. A great many Chinese are settled at Pisco, and there is a railway to the town of Yca, about fifty miles southward. During the run up from Arica, every morning had been foggy, necessitating a very slow rate of speed, and a continual sounding of the fog-horn, and on Wednesday morning, the 27th, we anchored in Callao Bay, about seven o’clock in the morning.

Callao Bay is a remarkably fine piece of water, of large extent, and so well defended from all winds, that the water is always like a mill-pond. It has, however, like all the other ports of the Pacific coast, suffered from earthquake waves, though in a far less degree than many others. Much shipping, two monitors, and other Peruvian men-of-war were in harbour, also two other men-of-war, one English and one American, and the whole scene betokened the near presence of a large city. We dressed hastily to go on shore to the office of the Pacific Steam Navigation Company, in order to secure a good berth on the steamer which we had to change to for Panamá, the Lima, etc., being on the berth between Callao and Valparaiso, while the Oroya and others run the Callao and Panamá trip. Finding the office did not open until ten o’clock, we remained on shore to breakfast at a very good restaurant in the Hotel de Comercio, near the “Plaza Principal.” This necessary duty duly performed to our high satisfaction, both as regards quality and price, we chose our berths at the office, and returned to the Lima to shift our baggage to the Oroya, a fine paddle steamer, whose captain, a worthy old American, who had been at sea for more than fifty years, kept her in better order than, perhaps, any other mail steamer that floats. Everything in the shape of paint, brass, and plain wood, was most delightfully clean and well scoured, whilst the cabins were a real treat to see. Certainly the contrast from the confused decks of the Lima to the order and neatness of the Oroya was very striking. Returning on shore again, we passed the floating dock, in which was the steamship Payta, also of the Pacific Steam Navigation Company’s fleet, and which had a short while previously been run on a rock at the port of Santa, near Truxillo. The government foundries, with several private establishments of a similar nature, also attract attention; and, indeed, the whole aspect of the bay showed that a large amount of work was going on. Callao itself is like most other Peruvian towns, not at all striking, the houses having the same toylike and temporary look that one notices on arriving at Tacna.

There being nothing to detain us in Callao, and the Oroya not leaving until the following day, we determined to pay Lima a visit, and taking tickets at four reales each, a twenty minutes’ ride brought us to the capital of Peru. It is situated at the foot of the hills which, all along the Peruvian coast, run sometimes close to the sea, and at others recede somewhat inland, leaving a sandy plain from their slopes seawards. On one of these plains Lima is built. Entering the city, the European-like look of the shops is the first thing that claims attention; and were it not for the flat roofs, and the unfinished look of the houses, the tops of which are not even graced with a cornice, one might easily imagine one’s self to be in a large European town. We put up at the Hotel Maury, the table d’hôte dinner at which did not come up to that given at the Golden Ball of Tacna.

Of churches there are many, the principal ones being, the famous Cathedral in the Plaza, with its two towers, where the Brothers Gutierrez were hung by the townspeople after their brutal murder of President Balta; and the church of Panamá, with a wonderful façade of images, curved pillars, etc. The Plaza de Armas, is pretty though small. Here the military bands play every evening; and as chairs can be hired, the time passes away pleasantly. Over a river that flows through Lima is a very old bridge, solidly and well built, and bearing an inscription with the date of 1608, “regnante Felipo III.” The alaméda close by is very little cared for, and appeared to be falling into ruins, the society of Lima apparently caring more for a stroll along the well-paved Calle de Comercio, than for public gardens. In the evening an alarm of fire brought out three companies of “bombarderos,” a sort of volunteer fire brigade. They looked very gallant and gay in their well-appointed uniforms, which did not appear to have seen much service. The hat they wore was of curious shape, made of black shining material, and in form a cross between a very large solah topee and a coalheaver’s bonnet; it did not seem so suitable as the helmet our own firemen wear, but the corps being a volunteer one, probably something must be sacrificed to effect. I noticed some of them return to their rooms in the hotel after the alarm had subsided. They were evidently men of good position in society, and went to their work with kid gloves on; but possibly, as the alarm was a false one, they did not require to take them off. I should think that a bad fire in Lima would be a most serious matter, for the houses are of a flimsy nature, and have a great deal of wood in their composition.