The Pampas and Andes: A Thousand Miles' Walk Across South America

by Nathaniel H. Bishop

In a little mud hut, kept by a Chilino, I was surprised to find a luxury not often met with in southern countries. Ice was brought from the mountains on mules, and the inhabitants were enabled to enjoy their creams at a trifling expense. It was in the Alameda that I sometimes had a glimpse of the governor of the province of Mendoza—Don Pedro Pascual Segura. He was a man small in stature, and this characteristic seemed to be general in the different traits of his character, for he was of little energy, and had, consequently, little of the rascality of his predecessors. He was literally small in everything, as the following incident will show.

The Mendoza band belonged to the government, and Don Pedro had disposed of their services by contract, for a certain sum of money, to the theatrical company of Señor Rodenas, who had established himself in the town a short time before my arrival. The North American Circus Company came into the place soon after, and the director presented the governor his compliments and a season ticket to the performances. As the circus company wished to perform on the same evening as the company of Señor Rodenas, and by so doing could not obtain the services of the band, the governor, without further ceremony, broke the contract with the theatre, and ordered half the musicians to the house of the North Americans. This unjust act greatly injured the native performers, who were poor, and had but just arrived from a distant part of the country.

The houses of Mendoza were one story high, and, unlike those of Buenos Ayres, were built of adobes, which were covered with mud and whitewashed. These, like the dwellings of that city, had a dreary, prison-like appearance. The patio, or yard, was in the centre of the building, and was accessible by a large, heavy door, called the puerto-calle. A door from each room opened into the yard, where, in the summer months, the household, including servants, usually slept, for the climate near the mountains has not the heavy dews of the pampas. The roofs were generally of mud, plastered upon canes, bound together by strips of hide, which rested upon a rough frame of willow, poplar, and a hard kind of wood resembling the algarroba. The adobes were made near the spot where the building was to be erected when sufficient material could be procured. Mud, trodden fine by horses and mixed with straw, was placed in moulds about twenty by eight inches, and four or five deep, and, after being removed, the adobe was allowed to dry in the sun’s heat for two or three weeks. Outside the town a rough, square brick was made, which served to floor the houses of the rich, and was covered by a carpet of European manufacture.

The town, at the time of my visit, was liberally supplied with churches, and had a convent. The priests bore a much better character than those of the northern countries of the continent, as in most places where Catholicism exists they have a strong influence over the lower classes, and fill the narrow streets of the town with processions, much to the annoyance of every one who is obliged to kneel uncovered as they pass along. One foreigner told me that when he entered the place for the first time, he halted his horse in the plaza, through which a crowd of people were hurrying with lighted candles and crucifixes. The priest observing that he did not recognize, by humiliating himself, the respect due them, sent a vigilante, who threatened to run him through with the bayonet if he did not dismount from his horse and kneel upon the ground. There being no protecting power nearer than Buenos Ayres, or Santiago in Chili, a foreigner must go through these debasing forms, do homage to man, or feel the point of the bayonet or sword, “for there is no protection for gringos in the provinces north and west of Buenos Ayres.”

This I had told me more than once by officers of the government of this republic that pretends to copy the principles that have been expounded by Washington, Jefferson, Adams, and Lafayette. I always kept a bright lookout when abroad, and the instant the shaven heads of the good fathers appeared I turned the first corner, and stopped not until two squares were between us.

At a certain season of the year a mock Christ was crucified by the priests. The deluded people, believing it to be the true Savior, wept as they beat their breasts, and cried out with compassion. At these and other services of the church, as the mass and vesper prayer, the men formed a very small portion of the congregation, but the women were constant attendants, and were continually at the confessional.

One young lady with whom I was acquainted made it a rule to confess three times a week. This she continued to do for the space of one year, when good Father Maximo became so weary of her appearance or of her sins, that he told her to come once in seven days, and he would pardon the whole at once. Every morning the early riser met with little parties of females returning from early mass, chatting pleasantly as they proceeded to their homes. Each female who could afford it had a servant, who followed behind with an alfombra (mat), upon which the lady sat while in church. The children always went on before, that they might be under the eye of the matron who watched them, particularly if they were young ladies, with a degree of vigilance equal to that of the dueñazas of old Spain.

While speaking of churches and church-goers I will not omit mentioning a few facts relative to one Padre A. and his family, whose fame is wide-spread in the other provinces of the republic. This A. was a priest in the church of San Domingo, and, breaking his vow, acquainted Rosas with the thoughts and actions of those who had unbosomed themselves to him.

His villanous character began to show itself, and throwing aside the padre’s cloak, he took the sword, and became one of the bloodiest generals that Mendoza had ever supported. His deeds of cruelty made him known throughout the country. His family, which had, during his career, enjoyed a notoriety, sank into obscurity after his death.

Several years since, a daughter of the padre, who had distinguished herself for her licentious conduct, performed a journey, in company with her sister and another young lady,—all wild girls,—that proved no less disastrous than it was foolish in design.