At noon on the 30th of March we dropped anchor before the town of El Rosario (the Rosary), having been forty-eight hours in the trip. I was paddled ashore from the steamboat by a native in a log canoe, and succeeded in landing with dry feet. Luckily meeting an Englishman, I was directed by him to the house of Mr. G., to whom I had letters of introduction; and from him and his amiable wife, a native of the country, I received every attention that even a long acquaintance would have warranted.
Rosario, situated in latitude 23° 56′ south, longitude 60° 32′ west, is about three hundred feet above the level of the sea. The town contains seven or eight thousand inhabitants, the greatest portion of whom have sprung from the Spanish and Indian stock; while the amalgamation of races has introduced a great variety of shades of complexion, as well as of character, among the population. The streets, like those of Buenos Ayres, intersect each other at right angles. The sidewalks are paved with a coarse-grained brick, about fourteen inches long by six broad, and a little more than an inch in thickness.
Rosario has one church and two schools, of which one is a private seminary, and the other supported by a public fund. There is also in process of erection a small hospital, to contain two wards, one for male and one for female patients. It was nearly finished at the time of my visit, and would soon be ready to receive the poor invalids of the vicinity. This hospital was erected, without assistance from the authorities, by means of a subscription raised among the wealthy citizens. The people of Rosario, unlike the inhabitants of most Spanish-American towns, appear to take great pride in the advancement of the place, which is beginning to rival Santa Fé, a large town to the northward, which formerly monopolized the interior trade; but of late years, in consequence of the energy of its merchants and its proximity to Buenos Ayres, Rosario has diverted a huge portion of the business from Santa Fé to herself, and continues to encourage it by proposing to build a bridge seventy yards in length across a river that lies between Cordova and Paraná. If this enterprise is not abandoned, it will attract to Rosario many caravans which are accustomed to trade higher up the river. The Sabbath prior to my departure had been appointed for a meeting of the citizens to act regarding this matter.
A new line of diligences had been running for three months between Rosario and Mendoza; they left monthly, while another line ran more frequently to Cordova, a town in the interior.
Rosario supports a printing-office and a semi-weekly newspaper, that promises soon to be issued daily. Sloops, schooners, and small brigs are constantly arriving and departing; and with all these facilities for business and travel, Rosario, in its present growing condition, will shortly prove the most important town of the Paraná.
The police force is organized in the usual South American manner, and consists of a few mounted vigilantes armed with swords, and dressed in peaked cloth caps, long red ponchos, and pantaloons, underneath which the frills of the calconcillas (gaucho drawers) may be seen.
Like physicians, they are allowed to gallop their horses in the streets, while all others are prohibited, under penalty of a fine of one dollar, from doing so. Vigilantes, when sent to arrest a person, are usually accompanied by a higher officer, as they are an ignorant body of men, and frequently not of the strictest integrity.
Although Rosario is the seaport, or commercial town, Paraná, is the present capital of the Argentine Confederation. A national bank had, not long before my arrival, been established by the confederacy, of which the headquarters were fixed at Paraná, with branches in the provinces; but before it had been six months in operation, the whole affair exploded, as the confederate states, unlike Buenos Ayres, have little or no revenue. The government had also appropriated sums towards building a railroad from Cordova to Mendoza or Copiapo. Mr. Allen Campbell, a well-known North American engineer, was engaged to superintend the construction of the road; but, in view of the poverty of the country, the dangers arising from civil wars, the paucity of emigration to the interior, and the universal indolence of the natives, it is hardly possible to predict for this undertaking any remarkable success for many years to come.
CHAPTER VI.
A VISIT TO THE PAMPA COUNTRY.
While awaiting the expected departure of the carts for Mendoza, I remained with my kind host and his amiable wife, the G.’s. During the interim, I occupied myself in becoming acquainted with the habits of the people. One morning, after I had been in Rosario for several days, a North American—as we from the United States are called—drove into my host’s patio, and announced that he had “come to see the young chap from the north.” I introduced myself as the person in question, when he cordially grasped both my hands, and said that he was glad to meet an old friend again; he regarded all from his own country as such. He informed me that he lived out on Don B.’s estancia, and, having heard that a countryman was in town, he improved the first opportunity of visiting him. Of course he had many inquiries to make concerning news from home, which I answered as well as I could, and soon we were friends.