We must now quit South America, to follow the European Christians in their colonial career in another quarter of the globe. And in thus taking leave of this immense portion of the New World, where such cruelties have been perpetrated, and so much innocent blood shed by the avarice and ambition of Europe, we may ask,—What has been done by way of atonement; or what is the triumph of civilization? We have already quoted Mr. Ward on the present state of the aborigines of Mexico, and Mr. Luccock on those of Rio Janeiro. Baron Humboldt can furnish the reader with ample indications of a like kind in various parts of South America. Maria Graham tells us, so recently as 1824, that in Chili, Peru, and the provinces of La Plata, the system of Spain, which had driven those realms to revolt, had diffused “sloth and ignorance” as their necessary consequences. That in Brazil, “the natives had been either exterminated or wholly subdued. The slave-hunting, which had been systematic on the first occupation of the land, and more especially after the discovery of the mines, had so diminished the wretched Indians, that the introduction of negroes was deemed necessary: they now people the Brazilian fields; and if here and there an Indian aldea is to be found, the people are wretched, with less than negro comforts, and much less than negro spirit or industry: the Indians are nothing in Brazil.”
That the system of exterminating the Indians has been continued to the latest period where any remained, we may learn from a horrible fact, which she tells us she relates on good authority. “In the Captaincy of Porto Seguro, within these twenty years, an Indian tribe had been so troublesome that the Capitam Môr resolved to get rid of it. It was attacked, but defended itself so bravely, that the Portuguese resolved to desist from open warfare; but with unnatural ingenuity exposed ribbons and toys, infested with small-pox matter, in the places where the poor savages were likely to find them. The plan succeeded. The Indians were so thinned that they were easily overcome!”—Voyage to Brazil, p. 9.
But if any one wishes to learn what are the wretched fruits of all the bloodshed and crimes perpetrated by the Spaniards in America, he has only to look into Sir F. B. Head’s “Rough Notes on the Pampas,” made in 1826. What a scene do these notes lay open! Splendid countries, overrun with a most luxuriant vegetation, and with countless troops of wild horses and herds of wild cattle, but thinly peopled, partly with Indians and partly with the Gauchos, or descendants of the Spanish, existing in a state of the most hideous hostility and hatred one towards another. The Gauchos, inflamed with all the ancient demoniacal cruelty and revenge of the Spaniards,—the Indians, educated, raised, and moulded by ages of the most inexpiable wrongs into an active and insatiable spirit of vengeance, coming, like the whirlwind from the deserts, as fleet and unescapable, to burn, destroy, and exterminate—in a word, to inflict on the Gauchos all the evils of injury and death that they and their fathers have inflicted on them. As Captain Head scoured across those immense plains, from Buenos Ayres, and across the Andes to Chili, he was ever and anon coming to the ruins of huts where the Indians had left the most terrible traces of their fury. It may be well to state, in his own words, what every family of the Gauchos is liable to:—
“In invading the country, the Pampas Indians generally ride all night, and hide themselves on the ground during the day; or if they do travel, crouch almost under the bellies of their horses, who, by this means, appear to be dismounted and at liberty. They usually approach the huts at night, at a full gallop, with their usual shriek, striking their mouths with their hands; and this cry, which is to intimidate their enemies, is continued through the whole of the dreadful operation.
“Their first act is to set fire to the roof of the hut, and it is almost too dreadful to fancy what the feelings of a family must be, when, after having been alarmed by the barking of the dogs, which the Gauchos always keep in great numbers, they first hear the wild cry which announces their doom, and in an instant afterwards find the roof burning over their heads.
“As soon as the families rush out, which they of course are obliged to do, the men are wounded by the Indians with their lances, which are eighteen feet long; and as soon as they fall, they are stripped of their clothes; for the Indians, who are very desirous to get the clothes of the Christians, are careful not to have them spotted with blood. While some torture the men, others attack the children, and will literally run the infants through the body with their lances, and raise them to die in the air. The women are also attacked; and it would form a true but dreadful picture to describe their fate, as it is decided by the momentary gleam which the burning roof throws upon their countenances.
“The old women, and the ugly young ones, are instantly butchered; but the young and beautiful are idols by whom even the merciless hand of the savage is arrested. Whether the poor girls can ride or not, they are instantly placed upon horses, and when the hasty plunder of the hut is concluded, they are driven away from its smoking ruins, and from the horrid scene which surrounds it. At a pace which in Europe is unknown, they gallop over the trackless regions before them, feed upon mare’s flesh, sleeping on the ground, until they arrive in the Indian’s territory, when they have instantly to adopt the wild life of their captors.”
Scenes of such horrors, where the mangled remains of the victims were still lying around the black ruins of their huts, which Captain Head passed, are too dreadful to transcribe. But what are the feelings of the Gaucho towards these terrible enemies? Captain Head asked a Gaucho what they did with their Indian prisoners when they took any.—“To people accustomed to the cold passions of England, it would be impossible to describe the savage, inveterate, furious hatred which exists between the Gauchos and the Indians. The latter invade the country for the ecstatic pleasure of murdering the Christians, and in the contests which take place between them, mercy is unknown. Before I was quite aware of those feelings, I was galloping with a very fine-looking Gaucho who had been fighting with the Indians, and after listening to his report of the killed and wounded, I happened, very simply, to ask him how many prisoners they had taken. The man replied with a look which I shall never forget—he clenched his teeth, opened his lips, and then sawing his fingers across his bare throat for a quarter of a minute, bending towards me, with his spurs sticking into his horse’s sides, he said, in a sort of low, choking voice, ‘Se matan todas,’—we kill them all!”
Here then we have a thinly populated country inhabited, so far as it is inhabited at all, by men that are inspired towards each other by the spirit of fiends. It is impossible that civilization can ever come there except by some fresh and powerful revolution. We hear of the new republics of South America, and naturally look for more evidences of good from the spirit of liberty: but in the towns we find the people indolent, ignorant, superstitious, and most filthy; and in the country naked Indians on horseback, scouring the wilds, and making use of the very animals by which the Spaniards subjugated them, to scourge and exterminate their descendants. In the opinion of Captain Head, they only want fire-arms, which one day they may get, to drive them out altogether! And what are they whom they would drive out? Only another kind of savages. People who, calling themselves Christians, live in most filthy huts swarming with vermin—sit on skeletons of horses’ heads instead of chairs—lie during summer out of doors in promiscuous groups—and live entirely on beef and water; the beef, chiefly mare’s flesh, being roasted on a long spit, and every one sitting round and cutting off pieces with long knives. The cruelty and beastliness of their nature exceeding even that of the Indians themselves.