The city is divided into nearly equal parts by a broad avenue, that of San Martin, formerly the Alameda which runs north and south.
These two parts are called by the distinctive names of Mendoza which is the western section and Old Mendoza, the eastern one. Old Mendoza, which I think contains the greatest population is in the form of a trapezoid, while the new city is that of a square. The old city was the part that existed before the earthquake of 1861. It was nearly totally destroyed and has been rebuilt again. The best to do inhabitants instead of repairing their ruined homes, laid out plans for a new and better city with wide streets and spacious parks. It is this new part that to-day is the most important. Old Mendoza with its one-story, primitive adobe buildings, in some respects resembles San José de Costa Rica, although it is not nearly as fine and clean a city. Its streets are treeless and most of them are never paved. The poor element lives here. The old plaza with its dirt walks, which was formerly the center of the city, is a full mile from that of San Martin. The ancient crumbling unstuccoed adobe pile which was the pristine city hall is now an almshouse. There are no residences in Mendoza which can be termed palatial, that of my acquaintance, Dr. Serú being the best. It is a two-story structure on the wide and shadeless Avenida San Martin, hemmed in on both sides by shops. The residence of Domingo Tomba at Godoy Cruz is the finest house in the province, but it is in a poor location, on the busy and dusty plaza of that small city.
Avenida San Martin, Mendoza
Regarding the earthquake in Mendoza, "Until 1861," writes Dr. Martin de Moussy, "the Province of Mendoza was not aware of the terrors of an earthquake. The violent shocks that had at different times agitated the Chilean provinces seemed to lose their intensity on going over the chain of the Andes. The inhabitants only knew slight tremblings of the earth previous to then. March 20, 1861, one of the most violent earthquakes ever recorded destroyed in a few seconds the city of Mendoza and buried one-half of its inhabitants under its ruins."
At 8:30 P.M. that night, the town was totally destroyed by one of the most violent earthquakes ever experienced. The sky was perfectly clear; the atmosphere quiet; the greater part of its inhabitants at home, although some of them were enjoying a walk in the Alameda and on the plaza. Suddenly a subterranean noise was heard, and at the same moment before there was time to escape, all the public buildings and private houses were falling in with a tremendous crash. The walls fell outward and all sides of the rooms and the roofs came down in the center so that the inhabitants, both those who were inside the houses and those who were on the streets were all buried beneath the débris. The movement was first undulatory from northwest to southeast and afterwards seemed to come from below upwards. Its violence was so great that in the gardens many people fell down. In the Church of San Augustin, where mass was being held, only one person escaped alive. He was a drunken man asleep in the vestibule. The pillars fell in such a way that he was uninjured. Fire started by broken lamps and from kitchen braziers. The débris of the earthquake clogged the canals and started a flood. Food ran short and the stench of the corpses which could not be taken from the ruins was awful. The fire raged ten days. When everything was normal again, it was estimated that at least ten thousand people perished. The Almanaque del Mensajero gives the total number of victims at fifteen thousand. The shocks were continued at frequent intervals until the end of May. There was a suggestion to rebuild the city on some granite hills known as Las Tortugas but old ties and affections pervaded so a new city was built directly west of the Alameda which is now the Avenida San Martin. The ruins of the churches of San Francisco and San Augustin should be visited.
The Parque Oeste (West Park) which its name indicates is in the western part of the city. It is built on a scarcely perceptible general slope, and to my idea out-rivals that of Palermo in Buenos Aires, it being more natural and rustic. It is not yet entirely completed, but that part of it which is, nearly attains a perfection. It is spacious and its broad avenues, cross lawns planted to trees indigenous to the country. There is a fine music pavilion and a zoölogical garden there.
Westward from this park and past the hospital in the course of construction, a broad road bordered by year-old Carolina poplar trees takes one to the mile distant Cerrito de la Gloria a 1300 foot hill which rises abruptly from the desert Pampa. Its eastern slope is planted to eucalyptus, various generi of cactus, pepperberry, and other trees and shrubs. Dependent on water which is forced through a conduit to the top of a hill, they have in the three years of their existence here attained a marvelous growth on what was formerly a barren waste. Serpentine automobile roads with no balustrades coil upwards around the hill. It would be no place for a joy ride. A driver in very sober senses drove off the road in broad daylight in August, 1915. The only occupant of the victoria beside himself was a young girl. They both saved their lives by jumping but both the horses rolled over into the ravine and were killed.