The important light in which England, and, yet more especially, those portions of England to whose mercantile wants the company I represented administer, regarded the opening of the great confluents of the Plate, particularly those leading to the famed fairyland of Paraguay, so long guarded by the wondrous Ogre, Francia, naturally rendered me anxious to follow, for however trifling a distance, in the wake the French and British ministers had so lately pursued towards the capital of that mystic country which, after almost half a century’s total isolation from the rest of the world, they have brought into commercial relationship with Europe. Accordingly, though not contemplating anything of the kind on leaving Liverpool, I gladly availed myself of certain favourable circumstances that turned up somewhat unexpectedly, to make a short experimental trip up the Parana, as far as the towns of San Nicolas and Rosario, although for so doing time was very short, as the Argentina had to be back at Monte Video to meet the Brazileira, expected out from Liverpool, viâ Rio Janeiro, on the 28th or 29th of September. The commanders of H.M. ships Vixen and Locust gave us valuable information, and kindly recommended an experienced pilot, whom I engaged. The British Vice-consul at Buenos Ayres, Mr. Parish—a name of long-recognized Anglo influence in those regions, as the mention of his relative, the veteran Sir Woodbine, and of his relatives, Messrs. Parish Robinson, the authors of the delightful ‘Letters from Paraguay,’ will sufficiently vouch—also obliged us with the loan of some admirable charts published under sanction of the Admiralty, from surveys made by Captain Sullivan of H.M. ship Philomel, and these, so far as our observation extended, proved to be wonderfully correct.[96] Of course, in an extensive navigation of this kind, with shifting sands, there will be occasionally variations of depth of water, but nothing to alter the general character of the survey, or the correctness of the gallant officer’s explorations and soundings. We left Buenos Ayres at 1 p.m. on the 21st, with a pleasant party on board, and steamed across to Martin Garcia, where the navigation becomes difficult, and the channel very narrow. This rather large island, composed of granite rocks with a good elevation, and entirely commanding the channel of the great rivers, has long been a disputed point among the belligerents in the Plate, and among the diplomatists on paper, for only lately has the free navigation of the rivers been recognized; but a good deal of ill-feeling still exists with reference to its possession, belonging, as it does, ostensibly to Buenos Ayres, though it is stated that, if everyone had their own, it is really the property of an individual from whom it was forcibly taken, on the principle so very extensively practised in this quarter of the globe, that might gives right, and that there is nothing wrong but the want of means to defend it. One thing is certain, that whoever holds Martin Garcia will control the entrance to and exit from the whole stream above it;[97] for, as the only navigable channel runs close past it, there is no possible means of escaping the guns of its batteries. Thus, it is obvious, that the future progress of commerce up these immense rivers, as also, in a very great degree, the well-being of the countries watered by them, is really dependent on the way in which this important point is disposed of.
And here it is impossible to look back on the policy pursued by former rulers of Buenos Ayres without the deepest regret that the navigation of such noble rivers, and the development of so fine a country, should have been subjected to such miserable trammels, or their destinies been placed in hands so unworthy of the bounties that Providence had showered upon them. There cannot be a doubt, that if a liberal-minded, common-sense view of things had been taken by the rulers of the city and province, after their emancipation from Spain, at this moment fleets of steamers would be navigating the rivers, and a countless population be settled in the upper countries watered by them. It would be, in fact, the valley of a southern Mississippi, vying with its northern counterpart in everything that could contribute to the prosperity and grandeur of an immense continent. Even comparatively short as the time has been since the destinies of this part of South America were under native control, it is sufficient to have turned a barren waste into a land teeming with riches and abundance—a fact indisputable, and which must be evident to the most cursory observer. But, alas! the gifts of Providence have been bestowed in vain: the ‘dog in the manger’ principle has been beautifully illustrated; and, unless a stronger power and a stronger arm than that which exists in the country be brought to bear, the long night of Egyptian darkness may otherwise even still prevail. Amongst the numerous conflicting statements and opinions, as to what policy shall be carried out, it is difficult to ascertain who are really the stop-gaps in a work of this kind. There can be no question that the barbarous policy of Rosas was virtually to close the rivers; and the wonder is, that he did not effectually destroy the entrances, which he might easily have done by sinking vessels laden with stone in the channel off Martin Garcia. His object, as everyone knows, was to reduce the upper provinces to a state of complete dependence on the city, towards which end the equally barbarous but much more romantic, and, perhaps, more justifiable, despotism of Dr. Francia materially aided. Latterly, a feeling seems to be gaining ground in the provinces, that the navigation of their rivers and the promotion of immigration, are objects of importance; and, once this is backed by free and uncontrolled navigation, things will advance rapidly. The late mission of Sir Charles Hotham and the Chevalier St. George is one of the means to such end; and their treaty with Paraguay must, sooner or later, bring forth its fruits, especially if a real cession of Martin Garcia forms part of the arrangements stipulated. Considerable jealousy still exists on this point; but there are the interests of a mighty continent and of civilized Europe against the petty pride of a people who have not yet learned even to govern or take care of themselves; and desperate diseases require strong remedies. In the hands of nautical parties, with the guarantee of the most powerful nations of Europe and America, Martin Garcia would soon be rendered the nucleus of commerce extending from thence to the shores of the Pacific; the channels and entrances would be properly buoyed and lighted under some equitable tax on shipping, and countless fleets would soon be passing backwards and forwards. Unless something of this kind is done, local dissensions between provinces will always mar the general good. Moreover, a considerable outlay of money is absolutely required to render the navigation safe and practical; and where is that to come from, except through the now almost sole machinery of all revenue in these regions—the customs, which foreign shipping, and abundance of it, can alone furnish to the smallest respectable amount?
One of the most remarkable pioneers of the present day, in connection with the development of the river navigation and of the upper provinces, is an American citizen, Mr. Hopkins, who, with all the characteristic ardour and discerning forethought of his country, in seizing upon ‘fresh fields and pastures new,’ wherever the spirit of commerce is likely to find the smallest resting-place for the sole of its foot, had just left Buenos Ayres for Assumption, in a steamer, with various kinds of machinery on board for establishing manufactories in the Paraguayan metropolis. One of these is for the preparation of cigars for the European and North American markets, on the plan pursued at the Havannah. There are not less than fourteen or fifteen different descriptions of tobacco grown in Paraguay, each of its kind pronounced by connoisseurs, to whom samples have been submitted in England, to be superior to corresponding qualities produced elsewhere, whether for the purposes of snuff or smoking. On the score of its tobacco alone, therefore, the opening of intercourse with Paraguay is calculated to prove a boon to many a used-up Sybarite, pining dyspeptically for a new pleasure. Mr. Hopkins also, I understand, contemplates improvements in the preparation of the famous Paraguay tea, maté, that will, if possible, enhance its popularity throughout South America, where there is scarcely a meal in a house with the least pretentions to respectability or refinement in which the beverage is not introduced; and elegance and adroitness in sipping it, through a tube or reed, something after the fashion adopted in the Yankee beverage, known as sherry-cobbler, affords scarcely less opportunity at a tertullia, or evening party, for the display of breeding than does the use of the fan in Spain. The taste of maté is not at all dissimilar to that of green tea, but without the acrid flavour of the Chinese infusion; and it is not improbable that Mr. Hopkins may render it a very acceptable addition to our drinks in this country; for it would, at least, form an agreeable variety to the somewhat limited range of compounds now in vogue among our temperance preachers and practitioners. Mr. Hopkins is the head of an enterprising and affluent joint-stock company, formed some few years ago in the States, who have already expended considerable funds in the prosecution of South American enterprise of this nature, undeterred by the wreck of a fine vessel they were bringing out, called ‘El Paraguay,’ which was condemned and sold at Maranham. He is one of those rare, indomitable spirits who often revolutionize countries without benefiting themselves; and this I should much fear, and deeply deplore, would be his case now, unless, indeed, after having been so long buffeted by the billows of mishap, he now at length ride on the tide of regenerate Paraguay, and ‘share the triumph and partake the gale’ of its prosperity, which is seemingly soon to come. He has spent many years in that extraordinary country;[98] been four times backwards and forwards; travelled on horseback some 36,000 miles! and his whole life, in short, has been a romance, as wonderful in reality among real inhabitants of an almost unknown planet, as was the apocryphal existence of the imaginative Mr. Herman Melville among his ideal Omoos and phantasmagoric Typees of the Marquesas and the South Sea Islands. He is a great favourite of the present Governor of Paraguay, M. Lopez; and he will confer immense benefit on mankind if he succeeds in still further developing those commercial and philanthropic ideas of which the mind of the governor has shown itself so creditably susceptible, by despatching to Europe his two sons, and a large suite, to reciprocate the overtures towards mercantile cordiality proffered by Lord Malmesbury and the imperial government of France [see chapter on Paraguay]. If any person can carry such highly desirable points as we have adverted to, Mr. Hopkins appears the man to complete, by personal interposition, and personal explanation of the workings of the commercial system in commercial countries, those purposes that were intended by the framers of the Malmesbury treaty, and in the carrying out of which North America has nearly as great an interest as France, or England itself. At all events, we must hope for the best. But, meanwhile, it is time that we proceed with our trip to Rosario.
As we approached Martin Garcia, we saw near it two or three small vessels at anchor, and there appeared to be a roughly-built fort on shore, where the Argentine flag was flying, in salutation of which we hoisted our colours. We thought we heard the report of a musket or two on land, but supposed it was the mere shooting of some idlers for amusement, and so steamed quickly past; when, to our great astonishment, a ball came whistling over us from a small schooner at anchor under the island, followed by a second, that fell short. We were in the narrowest part of the channel, impossible to bring to, or even stop with safety; and, owing to the confusion caused by this unexpected salute, the steamer grounded on a spit, from which we soon backed her off, and continued our route, being anxious to get into the mouth of the river before sunset, now fast approaching. When the second shot was fired we immediately hoisted the Argentine flag, and these punctilious representatives of ‘confederated dignity’ did not fire again, and we were soon out of their reach if they were disposed for the exaction of any further deference beyond what we had already paid. An hour brought us to what is called the Boca de Guasa, one of the chief entrances to the great river, up which we were soon steaming, guided by the banks, wooded nearly the whole distance. Before midnight a thick fog came on, which compelled us to drop anchor until about 2 P.M., when we resumed our silent course, aided by a late moon, the effect of which, as seen on this waste of waters, surpassed anything I remember to have experienced elsewhere; for the solitude of river navigation differs from the loneliness of ocean sailing, inasmuch as in the former case you feel there is land-life around you, and where you feel that it is not, as in this instance, the depression is correspondingly great. In traversing the ocean, however still, there is always a sense of animation and vivacity, and the consciousness that you are in the pathway of intercommunication with your kind. But in pursuing a vast river of this sort, through a country superabounding in every element calculated to sustain the densest population on the face of the globe, and knowing all the while that population there is almost none, you are bowed down by a conviction of the insignificance of man’s efforts to effect any radical change in nature; for the European voyager here is deprived of the buoyant pride and hopeful expectancy that sustain the explorer of hitherto undiscovered seas or countries; and, gloomily, but naturally, his mind reverts to the early navigators of these rivers—their mighty achievements, and the little results that had followed them—a lapse of four centuries leaving things here pretty much as they were when the first European flag floated upon this now placid and majestic stream.[99]
These are sentiments, however, which the reader may naturally think are not very pertinent to a purpose like the present, and not exactly in keeping with an occasion expressly connected with the commercial opening-up of those streams by the instrumentality of English enterprise, in a form so indicative of progress as steam. So, too, thought the writer, after a moment’s rumination of the ‘cud of sweet and bitter fancy;’ for he reflected that these magnificent regions, first discovered by Cabot—English, born and bred, though of Venetian parentage—had stagnated, not under the rule of the countrymen of that ‘good olde and famuse man,’ but under the rule of those in whose service he had found out a river which might, indeed, have proved worthy of the name the avaricious Spaniards had bestowed upon it—La Plata, the River of Silver—had they been imbued with a particle of the spirit which has converted ‘icy Labrador,’ the first territory discovered by the same glorious adventurer, into a comparatively industrial paradise. I augured, I hope with no unjustifiable audacity, that now the descendants of Cabot and of his companions had been brought into direct relationship with the people of the Parana, something would be done to render that ‘Mississippi of the South’ not altogether unworthy of some slight social and political comparison with the Northern ‘Father of Waters’ before many more generations should roll by; and I deemed it a not altogether impossible contingency that the younger members of our crew might live to cast anchor in certain riverine ports hereabouts, amid a forest of masts and funnels belonging to all the maritime states in the world, not one of which countries but may find produce of some kind or other profitably suitable to its markets on these fertile shores.
SAN NICOLAS DE LOS ARROYOS, ON THE PARANA.
The turns and windings of the Parana, all along the portion now being passed over, and indeed nearly throughout its entire length, are numerous, without at all impeding the navigation, being, in many parts, sufficiently wide and imposing to justify its native appellation of Parana Guazú, or Sea River. After daylight, fog and mist again enveloped us, but we were enabled to continue our course, guided by trees, profusely growing, and which, on the low grounds, are chiefly of the willow species. We passed Obligado, on whose high bank Rosas erected those batteries to dispute the passage of the convoy under protection of the French and English vessels of war, which were, as we have seen, of so very little avail. The scenery around Obligado is pretty, and was more so as we proceeded—occasional lofty banks covered with verdure—estançias, and cattle grazing about. This interest was heightened as we approached San Nicolas,[100] which is one of the first towns of consequence, situate on a shelving bank, where a troop of Argentine cavalry were bivouacked; and as they came galloping down to the water’s edge, their gay-coloured dresses, scarlet ponchos, and glittering equipments reflected against the bright green grass, the effect was highly picturesque and animated. Here we landed, took in a small quantity of fire-wood on trial, and went to call on the Juiz da Paz, and other authorities. I had a ramble over the town, which is intended to be large: streets laid out in the usual Spanish right-angled triangle mode, but the sites of future mansions, castles in the air, veritable casas en Espagna, dotted with only unfinished straggling houses here and there, with dozens of what looked like Irish cabins stretching around, the Hibernian and Hispaniolan identity being here developed as strongly as any member of the Celtic Antiquarian Society can desire. The solitary church of this city, as the local hidalgos insist on designating the place, has been almost destroyed by an explosion of gunpowder, which did great mischief to every building but the house itself where the catastrophe originated. A Buenos Ayrean brig and steamer of war were at anchor here, from the commanders of whom we received a degree of attention and civility that altogether obliterated any resentful reminiscence which our preceding rough reception might have awakened. The commander of the steamer, Muratore, spoke English well, and expressed himself very indignant at the treatment we had experienced at Martin Garcia, which, he said, they were wholly unwarranted in practising; adding, that he would report such conduct to the chief of the naval forces at head quarters. There is very deep water here, from ten to twelve fathoms, with muddy bottom, and it took us half an hour to get up our anchor, after which we steamed on towards Rosario, through a country increasing in cultivation and teeming in verdure every mile we advanced; and it was not difficult to realize the accuracy of Mr. Mackinnon’s description of the topography hereabouts, in the annexed passage, which appears to me to be fully deserving of the prominence of conspicuous type: