The Junta, or senate, consists of forty-eight members, who are elected annually: Señor Don Manuel Pinto is the president. The last election brought in several of the radical party; one or two of whom are the Humes of the Buenos-Ayres House of Commons. Since the secession of Mr. Rivadavia, Señor Gomez leads the ministerial side.
Señor Dorrego, who now distinguishes himself as an opposition speaker, is a colonel. In 1820, when the town was threatened by some armed countrymen, called Monteneros, he, on the spur of the moment, collected porters and carmen, and drove the enemy away, proving himself a dashing soldier. For a short period he assumed the “imperial purple,” until Rodriguez and his Colorados, in October, 1820, displaced him.
On the evening of the day on which the election for the members of the Junta terminates, a military band, with the balloon, or globe, preceding it, and attended by a crowd of young men, parades through the streets. The band stops opposite the houses of the members, and performs an air or two; the mob—if there is such a thing as a mob in Buenos Ayres—all the time shouting, “Viva la Patria!” “The representatives of the people for ever!” &c. If the Buenos Ayreans were to see our last day of an election—the thousands of mobility and patriots, hoarse with bawling—the banners—the rough music of marrow-bones and cleavers, tuned from counter-tenor to double bass—the sight, I think, would astonish, if not frighten them.[31]
The 25th of May, 1810, is the æra of the independence of Buenos Ayres; the period when, the French armies having overrun Spain, the people of this city deposed the viceroy, and appointed a junta of nine as a provisional government. This event is annually commemorated by a festival of three days. It commences on the evening of the 24th, when the Plaza is illuminated, by means of a lofty circle, formed of wood-work, erected round it. At sunrise on the 25th, the national hymn is sung by boys, &c. opposite the pyramid in the Plaza: to hail the rising sun is a Peruvian custom. In the day-time, various sports take place: greased masts are erected, at the summit of which are shawls, watches, and purses of money; and whoever can reach the top, may take any one of the above prizes. An English sailor, in 1822, brought down all the stock in trade, wrapping the shawls about his body, and putting the watches, money, and other articles, in his pockets and mouth. On his descent, he was surrounded by soldiers, who took away his booty; and on Jack making a shew of resistance, they marched him to prison. The bystanders, however, were indignant at this, and he was soon released, and allowed to retain one of the prizes. These masts cause great diversion, as very few succeed in mounting them; and our sailor was highly applauded. There is also an ingenious machine, called rompe cabeza, or break head, consisting of a pole placed lengthwise on pivots, elevated from the ground, with a cord on which to rest the feet. The difficulty is in getting along this pole; in doing which, hundreds are thrown off: the successful candidate obtains a piece of money. Military music plays at night in the galleries of the Cabildo; and fire-balloons and fire-works are let off, the latter emitting their balls of fire among the people. From the careless manner in which the fire-works are used by boys in the streets, I am surprised that no accidents happen.
The theatre is open every night of the holidays, and is always crowded; the anthem is sung; and they have extra lights, &c. The governor and his suite attend.
In the College church, on the 25th of May, prizes are distributed to those young females who have excelled in any particular branch of their studies. The ladies of the town take great interest in this, and attend the church in crowds. The organ performs during the ceremony, as well as other music.
In 1821, the rejoicings went off gloomily, with little or no preparations.
The arrangements in May, 1822, were the best that I have seen. The weather—indeed, every thing combined in its favour. Children of both sexes, dressed in fanciful costume, danced upon a stage in the Plaza, and at the theatre, and were drawn through the streets upon ornamental cars, by persons disguised as lions, tigers, and leopards. The music of the Plaza dance even now dwells upon my mind, producing remembrances I can scarcely account for. Its soft and pretty music ought to make it a standard dance for the 25th May. In this May, of 1822, I was delighted, and, for the moment, relieved from worldly cares. I strayed, at evening, about the Plaza: the mimic angels I could almost fancy real; and the sweet dark-eyed girls that every moment met my eye were, to me, Houris of Mahomet’s Paradise. The illusion was complete: but, alas! like all other earthly pleasures, it has passed away—would that I could add, as a “dream slightly remembered.” A troop of equestrians rode through the streets, dressed like Astley’s horsemen, and masqued: they proceeded to the Alameda, and fixing a small ring to a cord in the middle, they each endeavoured to pull it down at full gallop.
In 1823, the weather was cold and wet. The Quaker made an effort to light the Police-Office with gas; it only partially succeeded: the words Viva la Patria blazed out at intervals. Considering the obstacles, I am astonished he did so much.