But for the cabildos and municipal institutions which still existed in most of the principal towns of the interior when the metropolitan government was dissolved, in 1820, I believe every semblance of a legitimate authority would have ceased. They retained to a certain extent powers not only for the preservation of the public peace, but for the administration of justice; and although perhaps, under the circumstances, they afforded facilities for the establishment of the federal system in opposition to a more centralised form of government, there is no doubt they saved the insulated towns in the interior from worse consequences. Those institutions were by far the best part of the colonial system planted by the mother country, and they were framed upon principles of liberality and independence which formed a very singular exception to her general colonial policy. I doubt whether those which in most cases have been substituted for them have been so wisely cast, or are so suitable to the state of society in those countries. The people at large were habituated and attached to them, and had they been retained, with some reforms adapting them to the new order of things, they might have been made the very best foundations for the new republican institutions of the country. But the truth was, they were essentially too democratic for the military power which arose out of the change; they succumbed to that, and the people, having no real voice in their new governments, made no struggle to preserve them.
SAN LUIS.
Of all the petty governments of the interior that of San Luis is one of the most wretched. The population, estimated at from 20,000 to 25,000 souls, is thinly scattered over the estancias, or cattle-farms, at very long distances from each other, where they lead a life so far removed from anything like civilised society, that it may be doubted if their condition is really much better than that of the wild Indians, of whom they live in such continual dread, and against whose fearful inroads their miserable provincial authorities can afford them no efficient protection. Their independence and weakness is a serious evil to the whole republic, which is in consequence of it left defenceless on its most assailable side. The provinces of Cordova, Santa Fé, and Buenos Ayres, are obliged to maintain each a separate militia to protect their frontiers thus left open to the savages; and the most important of all the communications in the republic, the road from Buenos Ayres to Mendoza, is constantly unsafe from the total absence of all means on the part of the government of San Luis to make it otherwise. Every year this state of things goes on the evil consequences become more manifest; and, unless the ridiculous independence of some of these insulated townships be put an end to by their re-annexation to their old provincial capitals, not only must their own interests be annihilated, but those of the republic at large must materially suffer. It is idle to look for any improvement under the present system, which can only lead to the diffusion of ignorance and moral degradation, if the wretched population does not altogether disappear under it.
The straggling mud-built town of San Luis de la Punta, which gives its name to the province, contains about 1500 inhabitants, all miserably poor. Bauza places it in lat. 33° 17´ 30", long. 65° 46´ 30". It is prettily situated on the western slope of one of a group of hills, which appear to be the last knolls of the Sierra da Cordova. Dr. Gillies gives it 2417 feet above the level of the sea, by barometrical observation, a greater elevation than the traveller from the pampas perhaps would imagine. There is, however, a splendid prospect from it; the great saline lake of Bevedero glistening at a distance, and the interminable plains stretching away to the south, covered with a rich vegetation, brilliant with gaudy flowers, amongst which the bulbous plants are strikingly conspicuous.[69]
Towards sunset, the Cordillera, capped with snow, is often visible, though above 200 miles distant. It has been generally supposed to be Tupungato which is thus seen; but Tupungato does not rise above the limit of perpetual snow,[70] and is often entirely free from it; is it not more likely therefore to be Aconcagua, which Captain Fitzroy found to attain the enormous elevation of 23,200 feet, upwards of 2000 higher than the famous Chimborazo? The direct distance differs very slightly of either from San Luis, Tupungato is 213, and Aconcagua 216 geographical miles from it; the latter being about 50 miles to the north of the other.
The gold-mines of San Carolina are about sixty miles to the north of San Luis, in the mountains; they have long since been filled with water, and, as there are no capitalists or machinery to drain them, they are no longer worked, but the people of the hamlet wash and sift the alluvial soil collected at particular places (the lavaderos) in the neighbourhood, and so collect every year a quantity of gold in dust and small bean-like lumps, which they call pepitas. According to the official returns in the King of Spain's time, the produce of one year, on which duty was paid, was about 150 lbs. At present the people take little trouble to collect more than is absolutely necessary to enable them to purchase at San Luis the few articles of clothing and horse-gear which they require; if anything, they are even worse off than the gauchos upon the estancias. Captain Head paid them a flying visit, and has described the wretched poverty in which he found them.
Originally, and before the erection of Buenos Ayres into a Vice-Royalty, the province of Cuyo was subject to the government of Chile, of which San Luis was at that time the frontier-town to the eastward, and the place where the Captains-General in consequence first received the honours due to them when they crossed the pampas from Buenos Ayres to take possession of their government. It takes its name from Don Luis de Loyola, a Governor of Chile, who founded it in the year 1596.
By the post-road it is 226 leagues distant from Buenos Ayres, and 84 from Mendoza; and it is the only place that exceeds the description of a straggling village throughout the whole distance. The road which runs through it has been often described by those who have crossed the pampas in the last twenty years, and they have left little to say about it. By all accounts it seems to be a most uninteresting one; and the grand object, therefore, is to get over it with the greatest possible expedition. The more common mode of performing the journey is on horseback; but this is necessarily attended with great fatigue, and he must have an iron constitution who attempts it; but if he can live upon meat yet warm with life, or barely toasted over a gaucho fire, dispense with bread, drink brackish water, and sleep as a luxury upon the ground in the open air, in spite of bugs as big as beetles, which will suck him like vampires, his saddle for a pillow, and the sky for his covering, and with such fare gallop a hundred miles a day, he may, barring accidents, reach Mendoza in about ten days. He will find no temptation to loiter on the way, though much to make him wish to reach his journey's end.
There are post-houses, or stations, along the whole line of road, where relays of horses may be had; wretched animals in general, to all appearance, though the work they will sometimes do is almost incredible, and that of course entirely upon green food; it is true their gaucho riders never spare them, and their tremendous spurs, reeking with blood when they dismount, but too cruelly indicate in general the goad which has urged them on. Unlike the Arab or the Cossack, the gaucho seems to have no kind feeling whatever for his horse; the intrinsic value of the animal being of no importance, if he drops on the way his rider cares not, he lassoes and mounts another beast, and abandons the exhausted one to the condors and vultures, always on the look-out for such a chance, and which will tear the flesh from the poor brute's bones as soon as they find he has not strength enough left to shake or kick them off. The mares lead a better life, being kept entirely for breeding; and custom is so strong that no consideration would induce a gaucho to mount one. The pampa Indians have the same feeling, but they keep them for food as well as breeding; mare's flesh by them is preferred to all other, indeed it is their ordinary food.