A
FIVE YEARS’ RESIDENCE
IN
BUENOS AYRES,
DURING THE YEARS 1820 TO 1825:
CONTAINING
REMARKS ON THE COUNTRY AND INHABITANTS;
AND A VISIT TO
COLONIA DEL SACRAMENTO.

BY AN ENGLISHMAN.

WITH AN APPENDIX,
CONTAINING
RULES AND POLICE OF THE PORT OF BUENOS AYRES,
NAVIGATION OF THE RIVER PLATE, &c. &c.

SECOND EDITION.

LONDON:
PUBLISHED BY G. HEBERT, 88, CHEAPSIDE.
1827.

LONDON
Stirling, Printer, 20 Ironmonger Lane, Cheapside.

[PREFACE.]

At a time when the rich and fertile provinces of South America are daily becoming increased objects of commercial consideration—when their riches and advantages are constantly forming the bases of fresh speculations—and when, under the security offered to person and property by the liberal institutions of a free and independent government, communication with them is every hour becoming more extended,—an illustration of their local affairs, customs, manners, and people, cannot but be interesting.

Of these provinces, the one which forms the subject of the following Remarks is far from being the least important. Without adverting to the fertility of the soil, and the general healthiness of the climate, the prospects which Buenos Ayres presents in a mercantile point of view, forming, as she does, from her situation, the medium of communication with the whole interior of this vast continent, must ever render her an object of considerable importance to a commercial nation like England. Nor is she less a source of interest to the politician and the philanthropist. To Buenos Ayres is due the credit of setting the noble example to the other provinces, of bursting asunder the shackles of a despotic mother-country, whose selfish policy had long immured them under the deepest veil of ignorance and degradation, debarring them from any communication with the rest of the world, in order that she might reap the exclusive advantage of those treasures with which Nature had enriched them. Nor has Buenos Ayres confined herself to example merely, but, from the moment of having secured her own independence, she has never ceased to encourage and assist the other states in throwing off the same degrading yoke.

It is true, that preceding works have thrown much light on these countries, and the subjects I have here handled have been treated by abler pens than mine; but, besides the expensiveness of those works, which renders them inaccessible to a great class of readers, the subject is so new, and embraces such a wide field of research, that an abundant harvest still remains for fresh labourers. Having confined myself to one portion of this vast territory, I have been able to enter into a minuter detail of many things that have been cursorily passed over by preceding writers; and, finally, having resided in the country which is the subject of these Remarks during the last five years, my means of observation have been neither few nor limited.

[CONTENTS.]

[REMARKS
DURING
A FIVE YEARS’ RESIDENCE
IN
BUENOS AYRES.]

THE city of Buenos Ayres, when viewed from the outer roads at a distance of about eight miles, has an imposing appearance. The domes of the numerous churches, the public buildings, &c. give it an air of grandeur, which a nearer approach diminishes. On landing, the dilapidated mole (destroyed by the storm of the 21st August, 1820) and the mean streets near the beach, do not augur well for the beauty of the town: it requires an inspection rightly to appreciate it, for there are edifices worthy of attention. When I landed, in October, 1820, two cannons, forty-two-pounders, in very good condition, were mounted on the mole: they had the Spanish royal arms engraven on them, and inscriptions, purporting, that one was cast at Seville, and the other at Lima, some sixty years since.

A passenger is not exposed to any particular custom-house obstructions when he comes on shore. Should he bring his trunks with him, he is simply requested to open them, and a slight examination takes place. Several obnoxious customs have lately been abolished. Formerly, a sentinel was posted, to prevent any one passing to the water-side at the mole without first asking permission at the guard-house on the beach. The system of vessels being obliged to wait, upon their arrival, in the outer roads, for the visit of the health boat from shore, has also undergone reform. Masters may now leave their vessels immediately. It is necessary to go on board the gun-brig, which is now stationed in the inner roads, and there await the visit of the health boat, which comes off by a signal from this brig, and very little delay occurs. Upon the old plan, vessels often remained, through bad weather or neglect, four or five days before they were visited; during which time no communication was allowed with the shore. A manifest of the cargo, the ship’s papers,[1] letters, &c. are given to the visiting officer, provided no consul or agent of the nation whose flag the vessel bears resides in Buenos Ayres.

The removal of the brig of war from the outer roads has taken away the occasion of much offence. Disputes were continually occurring, from her firing at vessels and boats to bring them to. The boat of the Countess of Chichester, the first packet that arrived from Falmouth, had two shots fired at her, when going on shore with Mr. Pousset, the vice-consul. Captain Little, who was on board the packet at the time, not knowing what to make of this firing, ordered the guns to be double-shotted, and the crew to get under arms. A representation was made, and an apology promptly given. Serious misunderstandings, however, I am persuaded, must, some time or other, have occurred, had the brig continued outside, and pursued the same system.

It is only since October, 1821, that the health boat has been regularly established. The enforcement of the quarantine laws, and the prevention of smuggling, were the reasons assigned for it; but there were probably other motives, one of which might be, to prevent the boats of British men-of-war from boarding vessels of their own nation before their visit boat. It would, however, be difficult, strictly to enforce the quarantine laws at Buenos Ayres. Vessels have frequently arrived at night, or in a fog, and the captains have come on shore without being visited, not being aware of the regulations.

The outer and inner roads are, in fact, open roadsteads; neither of them possessing good anchorage. A strong wind from the E. or S.E. blowing almost direct on land, is always dangerous; and vessels often drive. In the storm of the 21st August, 1820, in which sixty vessels of all descriptions were lost, the wind was at S.E. The winter season is much better for shipping than the summer; as in the latter, the wind blows fresh nearly every afternoon from the eastward. Good anchors and cables are very necessary in the river Plate; chain cables particularly.

In the outer roads, the average depth of water is 18 feet, in the inner roads, 18: at high tides, there is 25 feet in the outer, and 13 in the inner roads. A Pampero wind, blowing off the land from the W. or W.S.W. causes at times a very low river, leaving not more than 5 feet water in the inner, and 8 in the outer roads. The banks that divide the roads are then dry, and people ride on horseback upon them. This extreme low tide does not often happen. The brig Candidate, salt-laden from the Cape de Verds, was lost, on the 13th June, 1823, near the Ortiz bank, from an occurrence of this sort: the water having suddenly left her, she foundered at her anchors. The state of the tide sometimes causes great delay to vessels leaving the inner roads; days, and even a week, being lost at some periods.

Pilots, appointed and paid by the government, conduct vessels to and from the outer and inner roads: two of them are Englishmen, Lee and Robinson; the others are Portuguese and Creolian, who speak a little English. The charge for pilotage is about 10 dollars each way. Masters piloting their own vessels, which is now and then the case, do not thereby save the charges.

The port of Ensenada, situated 30 miles S.E. from Buenos Ayres, has good anchorage; and for vessels drawing much water, it is preferable to go thither. They incur more experience of lighterage, if they require to be hove down; but it is the only place appertaining to Buenos Ayres in which it can be done, and the charge is great. Ensenada is only a small, dull village. Mules are shipped with greater facility there, than at Buenos Ayres.

The Barraccas is a creek on the south of the town, in which schooners and small craft repair their defects.

The river Plate may well be called the “hell of navigators:” a survey of it was made by Captain Heywood, in H.M.S. Nereus, and his chart, though not exactly correct, is considered to be the best. Buoys have been lately placed by the government upon the Ortiz and Chico banks;[2] and they have long had in agitation, the building of a mole, a dock for shipping, and other extensive works. In addition to a French engineer, a Quaker gentleman, named Bevans, is engaged. He arrived from London, with his family, in October, 1822; but, for want of means, nothing of importance has yet been done. Raising moles and docks is no trifling undertaking, in a country so destitute of labourers. To remedy the latter defect, 200 Irishmen, it is said, are coming out under the care of Colonel O’Brien, one of San Martin’s officers. Mr. Bevans has been traveling about the country, for the purpose of collecting information of the requisites necessary for his undertaking: he has, however, to encounter many obstacles. A trifling tax on shipping would be cheerfully agreed to for an undertaking so important.

Several pilot boats cruise about the river Plate, from which pilots may be obtained.

In addition to the difficulty of large vessels getting up the river, an adequate freight cannot be procured for them in Buenos Ayres. The Lord Lynedoch, a ship of 550 tons, with a numerous crew of Lascars, remained sixteen months and at last took a cargo of mules to the Isle of France. Vessels of 150 to 200 tons burthen are the most likely to get employed.

Vessels discharge and take in their cargoes by means of lighters, called balandras. An English gentleman, Mr. Cope, has several in his employ, and does the chief part of the English and American business. Should there be the least swell upon the water, these lighters cannot lie alongside; it is only in fine weather that work can be performed.

Boat-hire is dear: to the outer roads, 8 dollars 4 reals, to the inner, in proportion. The boatmen are mostly Englishmen, strong, active fellows.

The landing-place, at what was once the mole, is very bad; heavy boats cannot get near. Carts are used to embark and disembark, for which there is no fixed charge; they get what they can, like our watermen at home. Those whose business leads them often afloat, find it a great tax, and some prefer riding on the backs of their sailors, to paying it. It is seldom there is water sufficient for boats to come close in, and they are at all times liable to damage, from the pieces of rock, wrecks, &c. near the shore.

Buenos Ayres, at the present period, may be said not to possess a navy; neither, indeed, is so expensive an establishment necessary. The captain of the port, Don Batista Azopardo, is an Italian by birth; he is said to be a well-meaning man. He commanded an armed vessel in the last war, and has been once or twice a prisoner to the English. There are likewise a number of marine officers in the service of Buenos Ayres. The Aranzazu, national brig of war, so long anchored in the outer roads, has a crew chiefly English; some of them are refractory seamen from the merchant vessels. The marines are black soldiers.

There are three regular packets which run between Buenos Ayres and Monte Video; the Pepa, Dolores, and Mosca, schooners. Seventeen dollars are charged for the passage each way, every thing being provided, except beds. This passage, which is about 150 miles, is sometimes made in 12 or 14 hours; at others, it takes several days. The favourite packet is the Pepa, an American-built schooner, with good accommodations, commanded by Campbell, an Englishman, who, from his skill and attention, is peculiarly fitted for such an employment.

The CLIMATE of Buenos Ayres, taken generally, is decidedly good, and more congenial to English habits than that most places abroad. Its salubrity, however, is overrated: a consumptive person must not think of coming here; many of that class have been obliged to fly to Mendoza and other climes, to escape the vicisitudes of this.

The spring months of September, October, November, and the autumn ones of April and May, are the most agreeable parts of the year. The thermometer, at those seasons, averages about 60; and we have repeated clear and bracing weather, intermingled, however, with inclement days.

The summer is not so hot as the latitude would denote. A sea breeze sets in, at times, towards the afternoon; but this is not regular. December and January are the hottest months. On some days of oppressive heat, the thermometer may average 80, and at others, the pleasing temperature of 70 and 75. In January, 1824, for nearly a week it was 96 in the shade: the oldest inhabitant never remembered such a continuance of heat. When the heat is at the greatest, a pampero suddenly comes, with its accompaniment of rain, thunder and lightning, and cools the air. These Pampero winds from the W. and W.S.W. with nothing to impede their progress across the extended Pampas, blow with great violence, raising clouds of dust, and obliging every one to close windows and doors. Being off the land, they are not dangerous to shipping; though vessels at the mouth of the river have been blown in sea hundreds of miles, by a Pampero. The thunder and lightning to an European is terrific: the lightning is often dangerous.

The dust, fleas, and musquitos, render the summer months very disagreeable. The fleas are a great annoyance, the houses being filled with them; the very dust breeds them; and they seem to have a great partiality for foreigners. I don’t observe that the natives heed them. They laugh at the English mode of washing the rooms to get rid of these vermin; their plan is, to strew the room with fennel, sweeping that and the fleas altogether into the street. Musquitos are another of the disagreeables.

A north wind, in summer, is very unpleasant, the heated atmosphere relaxing both mind and body. The combined effects of heat, dust, and wind, make the enjoyment of an evening promenade extremely precarious.

In summer, the pastures frequently catch fire, from the intenseness of the heat. In 1821, Mr. Halsey, an American gentleman, who has a large sheep farm, sustained a considerable loss by an event of this kind, many of his sheep having been burnt. The same heat that occasioned Mr. Halsey’s loss brought on a violent Pampero; and, from the dust and burning ashes that enveloped the city, one might have supposed that the days of Herculaneum and Pompeii were about to return.

The winter is mild, yet there are days of piercing cold in the months of June, July, and August; and thin ice may be seen in the morning, but not any snow. We have here the penetrating rains, mists, and November days of England, without its comforts: from these circumstances, and the heat of the summer, Englishmen feel the cold much more than in England, and cling to their fire-sides, for they have introduced those luxuries, and the natives in some cases follow our example; otherwise, the ladies wrap themselves up in their shawls, and the gentlemen in their capotes, and thus pass the severe days of winter. The thermometer in winter is generally at 40 to 50, sometimes at 35.

The roads, after heavy rains, are nearly impassable, forming pantanas, or mud holes, which are dangerous to travellers; but, on the return of fine weather; they quickly dry again. The dead horses and dogs, that lie about the roads, quickly decay.

The rich pastures afford food to the cattle all the year round. The winter’s general mildness prevents the necessity of housing them.

That Buenos Ayres possesses a fine climate, no one can deny; but not to the extent its panegyrists have stated. I speak as I have found it, having in vain looked for that Italian sky, soul-breathing softness in the air, that some pretend to have found: but it may be defined a healthy, warm climate.

The various and sudden changes to which the British climate is subject, form a fruitful grumbling topic to many Englishmen and foreigners, who can fancy nothing that is not foreign. According to their accounts, even the moon shines better here than at home. I will venture to assert, that we have in England more real fine days in May, June, July, August, and September, than in the best months at Buenos Ayres. Of our delightful summer evenings, they have nothing to compare. To make any contrast of a winter, in latitude 34, and that of 50, is out of the question.

In this part of South America, earthquakes are only heard of; we dread not, here, the catastrophes of Peru, Chili, and Mexico.

The prevalent DISEASES of Buenos Ayres are fevers, sore throats, rheumatism, and others common to Europe. Strangers are subject to rheumatism from the dampness and searching winds. Sore throats, in many instances, have been fatal.

It has often been observed, that we feel the effects of free-drinking here, more than in England. I have experienced this more than once, and thought it peculiar to myself, till others complained of the same.

The country round Buenos Ayres is uninteresting; all is dreary sameness. But where, indeed, shall we find the charming scenery of our dear England,—its hills and dales, parks, thick-set hedges, and splendid mansions? We miss, too, that endless chirping of birds, ever heard in our thick-set hedges. Here, the equestrian takes his ride merely for the sake of exercise, and not from any pleasure the country can afford. I did not expect to find villas, parks, and cultivated grounds; but I thought it would be more diversified.

In a place where horses are so cheap, one might conclude that Englishmen would be continually on horseback, but they soon get tired of a recreation, in which nothing but exercise is concerned. The most frequented ride is to the village of Isidro, fifteen miles from the city, the Richmond of this place. On Sundays and holidays much company resort thither. It has some attractions in point of scenery.

The Barracca road is good—upon a par with those of England. Horse-racing and other sports are practised there, both by Englishmen and natives.

A ride in the neighbourhood of Buenos Ayres is not, however, entirely devoid of interest; especially in the fruit season, when the quintas, or farm-houses, with the peach trees weighed down by delicious fruit, the orange trees (though this is not their soil), and the wild aloe, so common in this and the opposite continent of Africa, afford an agreeable prospect. But the wild rose, blackberries, and the mass of roots and plants of English fields and hedges, are not to be seen. The trees (if they can be called so) are of a nature so dwarfish, that they seem like apologies for trees, stinted in their growth by bad nursing.

The Alameda, or public walk of Buenos Ayres, is upon the beach, near the mole. It is totally unworthy such a city, and in the neighbourhood of all the rabble of the town. It is only about 200 yards in length, with rows of trees the height of bushes on each side, and brick seats, which are too much honoured by the fair forms that use them. A moderate assemblage frequent this walk on Sunday evenings: the beauty and dress of the females could alone tempt a stranger to visit it. On other days it is deserted, except by some elderly gentlemen, who, as in our St. James’s Park and Kensington Gardens, are glad to escape from the multitude, and commune with themselves.

The beach well deserves its nick-name of Wapping; being crowded with sailors of all nations, grog-shops, stores, &c. The English sailors idling about the beach would man a ship of war. A stranger, seeing so many English faces, might suppose it an English colony. At night, the sailors in the grog-shops dance, to the music of the fiddle and flute, reels, and the College hornpipe in perfection, astonishing the Spanish girls. At one of these pulperias, or grog-shops, on the beach, a large picture was lately hoisted, of H.M.S. Boyne in full sail, flags, signals, &c. streaming. The English sailors mustered in great numbers upon this occasion, and rent the air with their cheers.

The seamen upon the beach are, at times, disorderly; but not more so than in other countries. American sailors have been the most refractory, causing their captains infinite trouble. The captain of an American ship going to sea, lately, made application to the captain of one of our packets, for irons, to punish his mutinous crew; but he replied, that he never had such articles on board his ship.

In no part of the world are masters of vessels subject to such annoyance from the desertion of their crews.[3] Men get into the hands of crimps, who conceal them, and exact their own price from those who are in want of sailors. This has been in some measure rectified lately, especially since the suppression of privateering. Many sailors roam about the country, working as labourers; but they soon get tired of that, and hanker after their old employment, as an old coachman likes to hear the smack of the whip. These “beach-rangers,” as they are called, have often wished to enter for his majesty’s ships that have been lying off Buenos Ayres; but few or none have been accepted. [Sailors] begin to find there is no service equal to our’s.

There are two English COFFEE-HOUSES, or HOTELS; Faunch’s, and Keen’s. The former is a very superior one, and provides the dinners given upon our national days, such as St. George’s, St. Andrew’s, &c. besides numerous private dinners of Englishmen, Americans, Creolians, &c. It is situated near the Fort. Faunch, the master, and his wife, have had great experience in their profession in London; and the style of his dinners is hardly to be exceeded there. The king’s birth-day dinner is kept up with great éclat: the room is surrounded by flags of different nations; and they have both vocal and instrumental music. From 70 to 80 persons generally sit down to table, including the ministers of the country, who are always invited. The government pay us the compliment of hoisting the flag at the Fort, on that day.

Another hotel, kept by a respectable North-American female, Mrs. Thorn, a widow, is much resorted to by the Americans.

In the above coffee-houses, they charge 40 dollars per month for board and lodging. An abatement is made to those who agree to remain a certain period. Dinner for one person, including a pint of wine, is a dollar; breakfast, tea, and supper, from 2 to 4 reals each; and a bed per night, 4 reals.

On the beach, near the Fort, is a tavern, or eating-house, called the Commercial Hotel; the master of which is a Spaniard, but most of the waiters and servants are French: they have, likewise, an English waiter. Dishes of all sorts can be procured there. To dine well, the price amounts to nearly the same as at other taverns. The large dining-room will accommodate from 70 to 80 persons, and is neatly fitted up. Pictures of the battle of Alexandria, the storming of Seringapatam; portraits of the French Marshals, Bertrand, Drouet, Foy, &c.; and views of Paris and other cities, are suspended round the room.

The Café de la Victoria, in Buenos Ayres, is very splendid; we have nothing of the sort in London. It may not perhaps vie with the Mille Colonnes, or other Parisian coffee-houses. There are, likewise, in Buenos Ayres, those of St. Marco, the Catalan, and Café de Martin. They have all large court-yards, or patios, attached to them, and stand upon a great space of ground, more than could be well spared in London for such purposes, where land is so valuable. These patios, in summer, are covered with awnings, affording an agreeable retreat from the sun’s heat. They have wells of good water. To each also is attached a billiard table; and, as this is a pastime to which they are much addicted, the tables are always crowded. The coffee-rooms are covered with shewy French paper, representing scenes in India, Otaheite, Don Quixote, and designs from Grecian and Roman history.

A new coffee-house was opened in December, 1824, near the church of St. Michael. The music, illuminations, and fireworks, in front of the establishment, on the evening of its opening, attracted a great concourse of people.

About four miles from town is a public-house called the York Hotel, kept by a native. Creolian masters and mates of vessels, upon their hired horses, at one dollar per afternoon, generally stop there; and the horses are so accustomed to it, that it is with difficulty they will go beyond it.

In the coffee-houses the charges are very moderate: a wine-glass of liqueurs, brandy, or any other cordial, tea, coffee, and bread, half a real; with toast, one real. The waiters do not expect fees, as in England: a capitas, or head waiter, superintends the coffee-room.[4]

In the arrangements and decoration of coffee-houses, the French and Spaniards far outstrip us. The English are not a coffee-house-going people: that time which other nations spend in them, the Englishman passes in business, or with his family.

Many Englishmen, upon their first arrival, reside with Spanish families, to improve themselves in the language: forty dollars per month is the charge. The houses of Mrs. Cassamajor and Mrs. Rubio take in boarders; these families are of the highest respectability, and they have several accomplished daughters, whose society is very interesting; but Spanish cookery, with its garlic and grease, no more pleases an English taste, than does that of the French.

Of the Public Buildings, the Fort is the seat of government, the Downing-Street of Buenos Ayres: it is situated near the river, with residences inside. Though surrounded by a ditch, with cannon mounted on the ramparts, drawbridges, &c. it could make but little defence against a serious attack. One would suppose, that those who chose the spot on which the city is built, had in view the prevention of attack by hostile fleets, the shallowness of the water being a defence against any danger of this kind.

The Consulado is a respectable-looking house; it contains a Court of Justice, or Appeals, for persons cited for debt, of which they regulate the payment according to the ability of the party summoned, very similar to our Courts of Request. In cases of debt they are very lenient, seldom committing to prison, except for a flagrant attempt at fraud, and sometimes giving the debtor five years to pay his creditors, which is almost tantamount to a release. Disputes are decided by the magistrates, at the Consulado, with an impartiality that gives universal satisfaction. The English disputants, it has been observed, are very numerous, causing more trouble than those of all the rest of the town put together. The Post-Office is held in this building; and on the first floor (for the house is one story high) is a Music School, in the morning for young ladies, and in the evening for gentlemen.

The Cabildo, or Town-House, has nothing remarkable about it, but the church tower, and a long balcony in front: it is built in the Plaza, of which it forms the western boundary. The great powers possessed by the Members of the Cabildo, according to the old Spanish law, have been reformed within these three years. It has a prison for criminal offenders; and the head Police-Office is near it.

The Bank, and the adjoining range of houses, are lofty and handsome.

The House of Representatives has been lately constructed; it follows the model, on a minor scale, of the French Chamber at Paris, and forms a perfect theatre. The members are seated in the pit, the president and secretary on the stage, and the spectators in the boxes. A bell announces the commencement and the close of business. The orators, when speaking, remain seated; so that they have no opportunity to display the graces of action. It is well lighted, by tasteful chandeliers. The armed soldiery, both inside and outside the house, destroys the idea of republicanism.

The Custom-House has no pretensions to notice, on the score of appearance, whatever it may merit for its convenience. It was proposed to build another, in the extensive grounds and gardens of the suppressed monastery of Le Merced; but this, like many other propositions, has been abandoned.

The Public Library is a credit to this infant state; it contains about 21,000 volumes. Every respectable person is allowed admittance, to peruse the books. Mr. Moreno, who speaks English, is the librarian. Some choice drawings of medals from France are in the library.

There is a small Botanical Museum; but the country furnishes few specimens of plants.

The Retiro, occupied as barracks, is on the north extremity of the city, and has nothing worthy of notice about it, but its theatrical appearance, and daubs of paintings on the walls. There is a large space in front, called the Bull Ring, in which bull-fights used to take place. The band performs there, for a short time, in the afternoon. It is here that criminals are shot, when the punishment is not for a state offence. Being situated upon high ground, and near the river, the Retiro has a pleasant prospect. In one of the streets near it, is a large brick building, built for a distillery, twelve years since, by Mr. Thwaites, an Englishman. The speculation did not answer, and the house is now in a state of dilapidation. A windmill, west of the town, is a conspicuous object; it is the only one in the country, and was erected by Mr. Stroud, also an Englishman. It had, for some time, the fate of the distillery; but I have heard that it now flourishes.

The Residencia, on the south side of the Fort, is appropriated as an hospital. There are two or three other public hospitals, including one for foundlings.

The Grand Plaza is a large square, environed by buildings: on the east is the Recoba, a piazza with shops; on the west, the Cabildo; on the north, a part of the cathedral; and on the south, a range of shops. There is a pyramid in the centre, which, on festival nights, is illuminated. If paved, it would be an admirable place for the parade of troops; at present, wet weather renders it almost impassable.

A second Plaza has been made, adjoining the other, near the Fort, by the removal of the market-place and some dirty sheds and stabling.

The river, the fort, some neat buildings on the south, the handsome arch, under which there is a passage to the two plazas, the towers of St. Francisco’s church, and the Cabildo, taken in perspective from Faunch’s Hotel, would form a good picture.

At night, the streets are respectably lighted by lamps fastened to the walls, which extend as far as the eye can reach in some of the principal thoroughfares, in St. Francisco Street particularly. A stranger, on viewing this street, would imbibe no mean opinion of the city. The lamps do not afford any thing like the illumination of the gas lights of London; they are equal, however, to those used before the introduction of gas.

From the state of the pavements, except in the principal streets, walking at night is very disagreeable—in wet weather, dangerous; and here are no accommodating hackney coaches to jump into.

It is intended to pave all the streets; but, from the scarcity of workmen and materials, it will be some time before this can be effected. Those that have pavements, bating their narrowness, are similar to the streets of London; the unpaved ones are very miserable.

The HOUSES of Buenos Ayres are mostly built of brick, and white-washed. Very few of them are one story high: they are flat-roofed, with a high parapet, and have a court-yard attached. The windows are protected by iron bars placed lengthwise in the front, so that a Londoner might fancy them lock-up houses. They form a complete fortification; and the loss sustained in Whitelock’s attack ceases to excite surprise, recollecting that our troops had to run the gauntlet through an enemy they could not get at.

Many of the houses occupy a large extent of ground. The sala is the principal room. The roofs of the houses, denominated the azotea, are very pleasant, especially near the river; and the party-walls are so low, that a person can traverse whole streets upon the house-tops. The inhabitants do not fear robberies, relying upon the strength of their doors, iron-barred windows, and barking dogs: of the latter, two or three are in a house. The bars in the window fronts are an excellent contrivance, and quite necessary, in a climate requiring so much air, and likewise for security, the street windows being close to the foot-path, and no areas to protect them. They report that this fashion is a remnant of Spanish jealousy; at any rate, it does their invention credit. Many of the mansions are specimens of Moorish architecture; those belonging to the richer class are splendidly furnished with carpets, handsome mirrors, &c. So little wood is used in building, there is no fear of fire. Extensive houses, formerly occupied by the first families of the country, are now tenanted by British merchants; and the salas that were once graced by beauty, music, and the dance, are now stored with dry goods, and nothing is heard but the hum of business.

House rent is very high: for a moderate-sized house, from 60 to 80 dollars per month.

Churches.—In Catholic countries, the attention of the Protestant traveller is ever attracted towards the churches. Their gorgeous decorations, music, dress of the priesthood, &c. form so great a contrast to the simplicity of the reformed religion, that we gaze, as if viewing the splendid scenery of some theatrical spectacle, and, for the moment, cease to be astonished at the influence which this imposing church has exercised, and still continues to exercise, over a great portion of the Christian world. If the Spaniards in Europe are supposed to surpass all other Catholic nations in their strict adherence to the rights and ceremonies of “holy church,” they have not neglected to transplant to South America this formidable engine of power. The charms of its music, and its general magnificence, must have bewildered the imagination of the natives, and insured to the Spaniards complete authority.

I have visited most of the churches of Buenos Ayres, with feelings I can scarcely describe. My mind was ever strongly imbued with recollections of those youthful readings of monastic institutions, of cowled monks and nuns, which, in our Protestant land, we only read of; but to have the reality before me, absorbed every faculty—I gave a loose to fancy—every thought was engaged.

I believe the following to be a tolerably correct list of the churches and chapels in Buenos Ayres:—

• The Cathedral.
• St. Francisco.
• St. Domingo.
• St. Ignatio, or College Church.
• St. Catalina (Convent of Nuns).
• St. Juan   (ditto).
• St. Nicholas.
• St. Miguel.
• Residencia.
• Montserrat.
• La Merced.
• La Conception.
• Loccaro.
• Recolator.
• La Piedad.
• Chapels.
• St. Lucia.
• St. Roque.
• Hospital.

The Cathedral is a large domed building, built of brick, as indeed they all are. Its outside presents nothing particular, with the exception of its loftiness; and, in common with the rest, it has crosses placed upon every prominent part. A new front is building towards the Plaza; but it gets on very slowly, the scaffolding being so very expensive. The interior is lofty and spacious; it is ornamented with figures of the Virgin Mary and the infant Jesus, in glittering attire. Jesus on the cross, and saints in strict costume, occupy places at the different altars. Flowers, artificial and real, are plentifully bestowed, and relics are strewed in all directions, informing the foreigner that he is in a land where Catholicism once existed in all its pristine grandeur. These emblems of peace, in the body of the church, are shaded by those of war from above. Suspended from the ceiling are about twenty flags, taken from the Spaniards on various occasions, as at Monte Video, Maypu, &c. Fernando VII. is inscribed upon most of them. The grand altar is adorned with costly gems; and when the large and numerous candles are lighted, the effect is grand. The organ and choir are good: the tones of the former vibrating through the aisles, and the kneeling females in black attire, make an impression of no ordinary nature. The government and municipal authorities attend at the Cathedral on state and feast days, forming processions to and from the church. The Sunday mass, about twelve o’clock, is attended by most of the fashion and beauty of the town.

Of the churches, that of St. Francisco seems most profusely ornamented. Virgins and saints of all descriptions occupy every altar and nook of the interior, clothed in rich and fanciful attire, which the devotion of the faithful has bestowed. The grand altar is very brilliant; and when fully lighted, it appears a sheet of gold. Some of the ornaments, I should think, are valuable. This edifice is of considerable length, and contains twenty friars of the order of St. Francisco, the only community of the sort now existing in Buenos Ayres. The towers are paved with tiling, which, at a distance, looks like marble. St. Francisco’s church is my favourite, for, child-like, I am attracted by glitter.

The College church is one I rarely visit, from prejudice or revenge at an insult offered to me by one of the servants, who told me Englishmen had no business there, and absolutely took my arm to conduct me out. In any other place I should have chastised him.—It is a gloomy structure, both outside and inside, even with the usual decorations. The Holy Ghost proceeds on its different missions from this church.

St. Domingo church is large, with a spacious dome. It had, until the suppression, in 1822, forty-eight friars of the [Dominican] order; amongst whom was an Irish priest, Father Burke, who, from motives of kindness, is still allowed to occupy his apartment. He is more than 70 years of age, and much esteemed by the British as well as natives, being divested of those prejudices which so often disgrace his cloth. The rooms of the friars, and the garden, make it a comfortable retreat. The interior of St. Domingo is light and airy, without much decoration; but it contains objects that swell the beating hearts of Englishmen—British standards ranged around the dome, the trophies of Beresford’s and Whitelock’s expeditions. Crawford, with part of his division, it will be recollected, took refuge in this church. I have viewed those flags with the most painful recollections, obtained, as they were, not in open fight, but by concealed and inaccessible enemies; and have felt for the fate of my unhappy countrymen, slaughtered, without an opportunity to retaliate, by those who could not have stood one half-hour before them in a fair field of battle. This city is almost the only one in the world that can boast the possession of such prizes.

The church of Le Merced is a very pretty building, with a dome and tower. The interior is compact, and, in splendour, very little inferior to St. Francisco; containing virgins, Madonas, holy pictures, &c. &c. in gorgeous abundance, with the usual quantity of confessional boxes. It is much resorted to. Until lately, it held forty-five friars, of the order of Le Merced; a peculiar order, allowing its professors, it is said, to wear concealed arms. One of the regiments attends divine service, and their band performs, in this church.

The description of one may be said to include a description of all the churches, as they partake of the same general character, excepting only that some are more splendid than others. No impediment is offered to the admission of foreigners into these sacred buildings; and they may roam about ad libitum. The obstruction I received in the College church, I am persuaded, was the unauthorized act of the fellow who offered it. To avoid singularity, it is best to conform to their mode of devotion. The eye of curiosity will, now and then, be directed towards a stranger; but this is to be expected, though some gentlemen express a repugnance to visit their churches for that reason, and a fear of intruding.

The churches, with the buildings attached, gardens, &c. occupy a great extent of ground; particularly those of St. Juan and Catalina, which were erected at a time when religious enthusiasm was at its height.

The Theatre, as an edifice, has nothing to boast. The exterior looks like a stable; but the interior is better than the outside promises. It has been much improved since my arrival. They sadly want a new theatre. There is a plot of ground near the Plaza just adapted for it: but unless the government take it in hand, the public spirit of individuals, I fear, will not; and yet, with a people so theatrically inclined, it is somewhat surprising. Almost the first inquiry of a foreigner is of the Theatre: at present, they smile at its insignificance.

The pit is large, extending a considerable length from the stage, with backs to the seats, and partitions to each, which serve as a rest for the arms: they are numbered, and let out under the appellation of “lunetas;” every person proceeding to his own seat; thus the crowding and fighting, for places, so common in our theatres, is avoided. No females are admitted into the pit.

In the dress circle, some blue silk spread over the panels of the boxes is all that distinguishes it from the others.

The dress boxes will contain about eight persons each. As they have not any seats affixed to them, those who engage them send chairs; or the theatre will supply them, by paying a trifle for their use. The price of a box, for a night’s performance, is three dollars. These boxes, and, indeed, places for every other part of the house, may be taken for a certain period called a “function,” which lasts ten nights. Many families engage their boxes this way, which makes them come reasonable.

Under the dress circle, and even with the pit, are boxes called palcos, at 2½ dollars per night.

The cazuela, or gallery, is similar to the one at Astley’s, except that it is not so large. It is appropriated to females alone. The keeping females thus crowded together in a theatre, and separated from their natural protectors, seems an abominable practice. A stranger is apt to form erroneous opinions of the fair occupants of the cazuela, and can scarcely believe that the most respectable are to be found there: but it is so; and husbands, brothers, and friends, wait for them at the gallery door. This custom, it is said, they inherit from the Moors. The goddesses of the cazuela behave in the most orderly manner; much more so, I suspect, than my countrywomen would, similarly situated.

Over the stage is inscribed the words—“Es la Comedia Espejo de la Vida.”

The Governor’s box was close to the stage, on what in the London theatres is denominated the Prince’s side of the house; and the cabildo, or box of the chief magistracy, was in front. But now the Governor’s box is removed to what was the cabildo, and the English consul occupies the one lately the Governor’s. The Governor, except on national days, seldom attends the theatre.

That important personage, the prompter, has his little tub, as usual, in the middle of the stage, destroying all the illusion of the scene, and, from necessity, obliging the audience to hear him as well as the performers. Senor Zappucci, an Italian, intent, one evening, upon impressing the audience with the drollery of a comic song, fell through the prompter’s hole; and the spectators began to consider whether this was a part of his song. Fortunately he was not hurt. The superior arrangement, in this respect, of the English theatres, might afford a lesson to the most prejudiced foreigners.

The admittance is two reals to all parts of the house: but this does not include a seat. It is, therefore, necessary to take a whole box, or a single place in the pit (which costs three reals), in addition to the admission.

Soldiers, who constitute every where the police of the city, were formerly stationed both inside and outside of the theatre; but this is no longer the case; and the eye of the republican citizen is not offended by their presence at places of public amusement.

No refreshments are sold in the theatre; we never hear the “Choice fruit, ladies and gentlemen, and a bill of the play!” and the spectators in the pit are saved the nuisance of having the peelings of oranges and apples dropped upon them. But then they are not condemned to sit five or six hours, as in our theatres; three hours and a half is the utmost. The pit audience generally walk out between the acts, and reassume their seats without disturbance or difficulty.

Smoking in the theatre is not allowed; but such charms has the segar, that they watch the opportunity of the absence of the police to smoke in the lobbies.

The theatre continues open all the year round, with the exception of Lent; and then music is permitted.

The regular nights of performance are Sundays and Thursdays; though there are sometimes performances on Tuesdays, saints’ days, &c. Sunday nights are the most crowded, as in all Catholic countries. On rainy nights there is no performance.

The usual performances at the theatre consist of a play and farce; with singing, sometimes, between the acts.

“Othello” is at times performed—not that of our Shakspeare, but a translation from the French. Its absurdities and tameness no Englishman can endure with common patience; he looks in vain for those bursts that overpower the imagination, and electrify the spectators.

An ingenious English gentleman translated Cumberland’s “Wheel of Fortune,” and “The Jew;” but they are too sentimental to please this audience. “Love laughs at Locksmiths” and “Matrimony,” from the original French, are stock pieces; and “The Scottish Outlaw,” and “Charles Edward Stuart” are very successful.

The performers are about equal to those of our country theatres. Of the females, Doña Trinidad Guevra takes the lead. She has a good figure, a tolerably expressive face, and a sweet, plaintive voice. In such parts as Letitia Hardy, and Maria, in “The Citizen,” she excels; and likewise in the sentimental.

Velarde is their first male performer, and plays tragedy, comedy, farce—it would be unkind to say, with Silvester Daggerwood—and “makes nothing of them;” for, in comedy, he has talent: his tragedy is not first-rate. He has the merit of dressing his characters with some regard to costume. I have seen him personate a British officer, with a uniform coat nearly a copy of those worn by our Foot-Guard officers.—The general manner of dress upon the stage, at times, approaches to the burlesque. An English nobleman is always made to wear the order of the Garter, and a star, whether in street, forest, or drawing-room. Señor Rosquellas, in the part of Lord Leicester or Essex (I know not which) in Rossini’s “Queen Elizabeth,” wears the dress of a modern French field-marshal: his taste and experience should reform this.

Señor Culebras (in English, Mr. Snake) is made the butt of the juvenile part of the audience—the Claremont of this theatre. When he appears to give out the play, they vociferate his name. Why they thus make sport of him, I know not, except that he has a peculiarly spare person, and is a sort of deputy manager, the Mr. Lamp of the company. He is said to be a sensible man, speaking the Spanish language very correctly. As an actor, he is both chaste and pleasing.

In low comedy, they have a good actor, named Felipe David, the Liston of the company; and one Señor Vera, who is a useful performer, as well as singer, and has abilities of no mean order. His representation of Colonel Cox, in the play of “Charles Edward Stuart,” founded upon an incident after the battle of Culloden, forcibly brought to my recollection Lovegrove’s Rattan, in the farce of “The Bee-Hive.”

Our English actresses, when they come on the stage, “prepared for woe,” have their white pocket-handkerchiefs pinned to their clothes: here they are held in the hands. Both customs are ridiculous; and the constant application they make of them in this theatre renders it more so.

The orchestra consists of twenty-eight instrumental performers. The symphonies between the acts are from Haydn, Mozart, &c. &c. as in the English theatres. The performances are ushered in by an overture, generally selected with great taste.

The musical department has greatly improved; and they get through difficult compositions with considerable spirit: constant practice, and, above all, the great exertions of Señor Rosquellas has effected this. This gentleman, a Spaniard by birth, made his first debût before a Buenos Ayres audience in 1822, as a vocalist. His science has enabled him to surmount the imperfections of a very indifferent voice, and he is always heard with pleasure. Mr. Rosquellas[5] may be called the founder of the Buenos Ayres Opera; for, until he came, the orchestra was very indifferent. Mr. Rosquellas speaks English, and is married to an English lady. He has been in London, and, I believe, sung with Braham there. He was ably seconded by Señor Vacani, also from Rio Janeiro, the best buffo I have seen (Naldi, perhaps, excepted). We had the music of Rossini night after night to delighted audiences: the duet of “Al’ idea di quell metallo,” from “The Barber of Seville,” is as great a favourite here as in Europe.

The departure of Vacani left a blank in the musical world, which has been since, in some degree, compensated by the appearance of Doña Angelina Tani. She has a fine tenor voice; the lower tones are of great depth, and some of them she elicits with great effect in a trio from Rossini’s “Elizabeth Queen of England.”

During the Lent of 1824, we had some delightful musical treats, which rendered the representations of their regular drama very dull, particularly to a foreigner.

An English mechanic, by name Waldegrave, was tempted to make a trial upon this stage as a singer. He sung “The Beautiful Maid,” and “The Bewildered Maid;” but he failed to make any impression. His voice was good, but he wanted grace.

In English singing, I doubt whether the inimitable Braham would please them. They smile at the idea of our having a talent for music. The finest compositions of Arne, Storace, Shield, Braham, &c. might stand a chance of being suspected to be stolen from foreign composers; for nothing goes down but Italian or Spanish music. Rosquellas, from being a Spaniard, and singing their popular songs, such as the “Contrabandista,” &c. is just to their taste: for, though no longer owning the Spanish sway, they still cling to that music which charmed them in their youth.

With a people so fond of dancing, one would expect to find a regular corps de ballet at the theatre; but a dance was not to be seen, except, now and then, dancers from the Rio Janeiro Theatre accepted engagements for a limited period, until Monsieur and Madame Touissaint, from the Paris and London Opera, arrived, who meet with great and deserved encouragement.

The bolero, fandango, and the pleasing castanets, seem peculiar only to Spain: I had thought to have found them common here. The Touissaints have introduced the bolero, and dance charmingly.

An Englishman, at a foreign theatre, cannot help being struck with the stillness and order, which form so great a contrast to what he has been accustomed to at home. The theatre of Buenos Ayres, in this respect, might serve as an example to those of more polished nations.[6] But, notwithstanding Lord Byron’s remark, that he would never write a play for our winter theatres, whilst the one-shilling gallery was suffered to remain; I prefer their boisterous mirth, and its many inconveniences, to the monotony of the foreign stage. The magnificence and ingenuity of our Christmas pantomime, which every body pretends to despise, and yet which all go to see, with the joyous faces of so many children seated round the boxes, convulsed with laughter at the drolleries of a Grimaldi, are not to be paralleled elsewhere. A London theatre is, indeed, a world within itself.

Sometimes a straggling English sailor will wander into this theatre; but not understanding it, he soon leaves it for the grog shop. A sailor is always a troublesome inmate of a theatre. Two of them were passing their remarks rather loudly, one evening: the audience laughed; but not so the police, for they handed the two poor fellows into the street. Jack swore that he had had many a row at the Liverpool and Portsmouth play-house, without being molested; and damned such liberty as that at Buenos Ayres. I got my weather-beaten countrymen away, seeing them inclined to resist; for unarmed men stand but a poor chance with a police of bayonets and swords.

Managers and actors quarrel in the new as well as in the old world. Velarde has had one or two disputes, and left the theatre. The audience insisted upon his return, and the manager was obliged to yield. The actor’s appearance, after these squabbles, is made a triumph by his friends; and the ladies in the cazuela throw bouquets, literally strewing the stage with flowers. These disagreements give rise to formal appeals to the public, from both parties, in the shape of printed addresses. In Velarde’s dispute, the manager had charged him with getting drunk. The actor indignantly denied this; but allowed that, on the 25th of May (the anniversary of their independence), he did get a little merry, broke glasses, and quarrelled with the landlord, in honour of the day, as every good patriot should do; and, in answer to a remark that had been made upon the graces of his person, he stated, that he did not possess Jacob’s ladder, to climb to heaven, and ask God why he was not made an Adonis.

A certain priest, Castañeda, having, in a publication, attacked the character of Doña Trinidad, for wearing upon the stage the portrait of a married gentleman (as he asserted), the lady absented herself from the theatre for some nights. On her re-appearance, she was greeted with applause; the audience reasoning, like our’s in the affair of Mrs. H. Johnstone and Braham, that the public have nothing to do with private character.

Performers, at times, in Buenos Ayres, announce their own benefits—even the females. A lady will address the audience with all the earnestness so important an occasion demands, and will go round the house, delivering bills of the intended performance, couched in high-flown language, “To the immortal and respectable public of Buenos Ayres,” &c. &c. They know how to “bill the town,” as well as any English country manager. Previous to a benefit night, they have a custom of illuminating the front of the theatre, and exhibiting a transparency of the proposed representation;[7] with bonfires, rockets, and a band of music at the door. This has been ridiculed by one of the newspapers, but it still continues in a degree.

The British are not great patrons to the theatre: they assign, as a cause, the want of attraction; but business, and their inclination to society among themselves, are perhaps the chief reasons of their neglect. There are, however, a number of Englishmen, who find relief from the cares of business, and are constant attendants at the theatre; some of them, without any fixed object, stroll about, earnestly gazing at the pretty girls, whom they designate by particular names. I have been much amused, when they have pointed out to me the different ladies, under their fixed appellations; as, Imogen, Euphrosyne, Discretion, Corinna, Zenobia, the Greeks, &c. One gentleman, Don Geronimo Salas, they have named the King, from his great likeness to George the Fourth of England. The resemblance is considerable; only that Don Geronimo is not so corpulent as his Majesty. It is not every day we see men with persons so corpulent as his Britannic Majesty and Don Geronimo: the former (national prejudice apart) does indeed look like a king; the latter is a very handsome man.

It is not uncommon to see infants a few months old, in the arms of their mothers, and slaves, at the play.

The ladies attend the boxes in their most brilliant attire, combining neatness with elegance, mostly in white; the neck and bosom partly exposed, just enough to excite admiration, without alarming the most fastidious modesty; a gold chain, or other ornament, is now and then suspended from the neck; the dress, with short sleeves; the hair tastefully arranged; a simple comb, and a few real or artificial flowers braided about the hair.

On a full night, the theatre presents a spectacle of lovely women, that a stranger would hardly expect. I have often contemplated them, with their dark expressive eyes and raven hair, adding, if possible, more beauty to countenances already so beautiful.

I think no city in the world, of the same population, can boast more charming females than Buenos Ayres. Their appearance and brilliancy, at the theatre, is not exceeded either at Paris or London; and I write from a tolerable acquaintance with the theatres of both capitals. It is true, the costly diamonds and waving plumes, that blaze from the persons of the British and French fair, are not to be seen in Buenos Ayres: those appendages, however, in my humble opinion, add not to female loveliness.

The theatre was re-opened on the 16th January, 1825, under the management of Messrs. Rosquellas and others, after having been closed two months for the purpose of repairs and alterations. Great improvements have been made: the seats in the pit are covered with crimson velvet; the whole interior of the house has been cleaned and painted; the stage thrown more forward, and the orchestra enlarged. A new drop-scene is exhibited, with the arms of the country and other devices painted upon it; and, from being better lighted, the theatre has now a neat appearance.

The operatic department constitutes the chief attraction of the theatre: in this they have Rosquellas, Vacani (the renowned buffo), the younger Vacani, Vera, the two Señoras Tanis, and Doña Angelina Tani, who sings as exquisitely as ever. Vacani, upon his re-appearance, after a short absence, was hailed with shouts of approbation, and bouquets of flowers thrown upon the stage.

In the dance, we have Touissaint, his wife, and a corps de ballet, including some Portuguese comic dancers from Rio Janeiro. Regular ballets of action now take place, in lieu of the pas de deux, and pas seul, of one or two principal dancers.

Under the old Spanish regime, the season of Lent was the most gloomy part of the year; it is now the gayest: we have operas and ballets two and three times a week, to delighted audiences; selections from The Barber of Seville, Figaro, Henry IV. &c. the orchestra led by Masoni, the skilful Masoni, whose talent draws forth raptures of applause.

It is in contemplation to get up regular operas, instead of detached pieces: Don Giovanni has been mentioned—Rosquellas to be the hero; he would both look and perform it admirably, at least to those who have not seen Ambrogetti.

At the theatre door, on performance nights, several handsome carriages are now to be seen, with lighted lamps and well-dressed servants, belonging to English and other families. When I arrived, in 1820, scarcely one was in existence. Were a Spaniard to revisit this place, after an absence of a few years, he would feel surprised at the alteration; the rigid fasts of the church laid aside for innocent enjoyments, the hum of business greeting his ear, and European strangers every where meeting his eye. Old Spain’s ancient dominion of Buenos Ayres is gone for ever: a few of the old school may yet cling to the mother country; but the grand mass of the people, especially the younger branches, are decidedly patriots.

An amateur performance took place, on the 21st February, 1825, for the benefit of the widows and orphans of those who had fallen in the revolutionary wars. It was a full house, and profitable—the reverse of Silvester Daggerwood’s. Orders are not admitted to the Buenos Ayres theatre. The play was Virginius; and the different parts were sustained by gentlemen of the city, in a style so creditable, as to put to the blush the regular actors.

A North-American Frenchman, named Stanislaus, last from the Havannah, has given several exhibitions at the theatre upon galvanism, slight-of-hand, &c. aided by machinery, the best I have seen of the sort. His performance was more than upon a par with our English professors. The natives declared, he must have dealings with the devil; or how could he transport handkerchiefs from the pockets of individuals in the theatre to the lofty towers of the Cabildo, in the Plaza? and this, they asserted, he had done. Stanislaus was rewarded with good houses. His pronunciation of the Spanish language excited bursts of laughter; it was a mixture of Spanish, French, and English.

A Lecture on Astronomy was attempted; but it did not meet with the success it merited, either from a want of taste for this instructive science, or that the audience conceived the theatre an improper place. The lecturer reading his part, diminished the effect.

An Englishman (Bradley) has a Circus, which is sometimes open on Sunday afternoons, and on saints’ days. Bradley is a decent horseman and clown; but he has to contend with many disadvantages.

British Residents.—Before entering into a detail of the manners and customs of the native or Spanish part of the population, I shall take some notice of the various FOREIGNERS who have become residents in this city. Of these the most numerous are the English: I have heard, that the province of Buenos Ayres contains, of men, women, and children, 3500 British individuals, according to a census taken in 1822.

The British merchants are a respectable body in Buenos Ayres: the commerce of the country is chiefly in their hands; and, taking the clerks, servants, and others employed in their barraccas, or hide warehouses, as well as in their houses, the numbers are very imposing. Most houses have a Spanish clerk, who (as well as his English brethren) generally boards and lodges in the house.

The following is a list of the British mercantile establishments at present existing in Buenos Ayres:—

• Messrs. Brown, Buchanan, and Co. Agents for Lloyd’s.
• Dickson, Montgomery, & Co.
• M‘
• Crackan and Jamieson.
• Miller, Eyes, and Co.
• Miller, Robinson, & Co.
• Winter, Britain, & Co.
• Plowes, Noble, & Co.
• Duguid and M‘
• Kerrell.
• Bertram, Armstrong, & Co.
• Heyworth and Carlisle.
• William P. Robertson & Co.
• Anderson, Weir, & Co.
• Tayleure, Cartwright, & Co.
• William Hardesty & Co.
• Joseph and Joshua Thwaites.
• John Gibson & Co.
• Hugh Dallas & Co.
• Peter Sheridan.
• John Appleyard.
• John Bailey.
• C. S. Harvey.
• Thomas Eastman.
• Thomas Fair.
• Thomas Nelson.
• Green and Hodgson.
• Richard and William Orr.
• Jump and Priestley.
• Stewart and M‘
• Call.
• John Ludlam.
• James G. Helsby.
• Henry Hesse.
• John M‘
• Dougall & Co.
• John Harratt & Co.
• R. B. Niblett.
• Daniel Mackinlay.
• Thomas Barton.
• George Macfarlane.
• Stephen Puddicomb.
• Robert Utting.

Most of the above houses have their corresponding firms at Rio Janeiro, Monte Video, Chili, and Peru, forming an immense link, of no mean importance, to the trade of Great Britain.

Our merchants, in Buenos Ayres, are not only land and stock-holders; but, since the establishment of the Bank, they have become Bank Directors. In thus identifying themselves with the country, I am persuaded, they will not forfeit one iota of their independence.

In 1821, the British merchants in Buenos Ayres advanced to the Buenos Ayrean government a sum of money, by way of loan, which was punctually repaid, contrary to the expectations of many; for as this money was lent only a few months after a revolution, when Ramirez and Carrera were in the field, threatening the province, its return was problematical.

The majority of the British merchants are natives of Scotland, proverbial for their talent and activity in trade. Without being accused of undue partiality, I may safely assert, that our merchants do honour to the country in which they are domiciled. Quoting the language of Don Valentin Gomez, at the King’s birth-day dinner, of April 23, 1823, “The English citizens have shewn themselves worthy of the distinguished character they have acquired. In Buenos Ayres, they have always been good fathers of families, and good guests. The province owes them every protection.”

The clerks in the mercantile houses are kept pretty closely to business, from eight in the morning till near the same hour at night, holidays excepted, which is fagging work.

Besides the merchants, there are a host of English shopkeepers. The street of La Piedad is full of them; and they retail almost every article that can be mentioned. In all parts of the city, the eye continually meets with English, and their inscriptions in front of the shops; as, Zapatero Ingles (English Shoemaker), Sastre (Tailor), Carpenteria (Carpenter), Roloxero (Watchmaker), &c. &c.; and the quantity of British subjects dispersed all over the country, as collectors of hides, agriculturists, &c. is more than would be believed.

A trifling jealousy is, at times, to be observed amongst the natives, at the numbers of the English resident here; the former supposing that we have a monopoly of business, and drain the country of money. These false reasoners in political economy cannot comprehend that, in trade, obligations are mutual, and that for our goods we buy their produce, often at a ruinous price. All increase of population to a new and thinly-peopled country, like Buenos Ayres, just released from a disgraceful thraldrom, ought to be viewed as a benefit: the well informed know it to be so.

The British medical practitioners at Buenos Ayres are—Drs. Leper, Dick, Oughan,[8] Jenkinson, and Whitfield: the two last are apothecaries. Drs. Leper and Dick are surgeons in his majesty’s navy, and are allowed to be men of talent, and have good practice.

A physician here is not so profitable a concern as in England: the guinea fee dwindles to a dollar per visit, though to a favourite doctor they make presents. Once, in London, I remember seeing thirty single guineas, for as many visits, lying upon a doctor’s table, the result of a morning’s work; and this was thought but little, to pay for house expences, carriage, &c.

A Medical Board has been formed here, which, a short time since, examined into the qualifications of the different medical men, propounding questions which, I am told, would have puzzled Esculapius himself to answer. Two unfortunate Irishmen were caught in the trap, and forbidden to practise. Paddy, at no time, likes his talent to be depreciated: accordingly, one of them took up the pen, and wrote a long philippic; the other did not confine himself to this, but made use of language, in the full senate of medical sages, that consigned him to a dungeon for three weeks, and he was afterwards banished the country. A French doctor was suspended, for an error in the accouchement of a lady.

There is a North-American doctor (Bond), and plenty of native ones.

I should think this would be an excellent place for quack doctors; indeed, they are beginning the trade already. A medicine called Panquimagoge, invented by a man named Le Roy, “the immortal Le Roy,” as the papers stated, was puffed up, as being a certain cure for all complaints, equalling the miracles of Prince Hohenlohe. He who doubted the efficacy of Panquimagoge, was rated an ignoramus. Its discoverer, it was added, had a statue of gold erected to his memory in the Havannah. During this infatuation, the medicine sold at an enormous price; but the bubble soon burst: several persons became seriously ill, and others absolutely lost their lives, by taking it. The former enthusiasts looked quite “chop-fallen.” Strange to say, several Englishmen were the dupes of this quackery; indeed, the old and young, healthy and infirm, all took Panquimagoge.

Several English have purchased estancias, or farms for breeding of cattle; but, I fear, they will find some difficulty in competing with the natives, who have every advantage over them in this branch of commerce.

The British Commercial Subscription Room, in Buenos Ayres, is a concern entirely British; and none but those of that nation are, by the laws of the room, allowed to subscribe. The present subscribers are about fifty-six; and it is supported at a moderate expence. It has been established since the year 1810, and affords not only a relaxation, but a source of continual information. A constant look-out is kept for vessels arriving and departing; and entries are made of them, and sent home. By means of excellent telescopes, national flags can be discerned at a great distance. They have a constant supply of English newspapers: the Courier, the Times, Morning Chronicle, Bell’s Messenger, Liverpool and other Gazettes, as well as those of Buenos Ayres, Price Currents, Shipping List, Quarterly Review, Edinburgh Review, Navy List, and other publications. The room contains the best maps of Arrowsmith, of the four quarters of the globe; charts of the river Plate; a picture of Nelson’s death, finely executed, and another of the battle of Copenhagen. A committee have the management of the room, but its general superintendence devolves on the secretary. Correct mercantile information can always be obtained there; and every stranger is at perfect liberty to collect the news of the day, although, from the nature of the institution, none but British subjects can subscribe. To enjoy the privilege of reading in the rooms, the parties must be regularly introduced by a subscriber.[9] All British residents of respectability are expected to subscribe.

The members dine together once in every quarter, at Faunch’s hotel, and discuss the affairs of the society.

The British Commercial Room is held in the house of Mrs. Clark,[10] Dona Clara; and what person has visited Buenos Ayres without hearing of this lady—the “Lady Bountiful” of the place?

There is a library of English books attached to the room, consisting of 600 volumes, and which is every day increasing. It is a distinct affair; and natives of all countries can subscribe to it. Several Creole gentlemen, who speak English, North Americans, &c. belong to it. The secretary to the Commercial Room acts as librarian.

Some individuals have attributed illiberality to the Commercial Room, in not permitting those of other nations to become members; but, waiving the right which the British have for an establishment of their own, if they like to support it, Great Britain might be involved in war, and it could not then be pleasant to come in daily contact with natives of hostile countries.

Letters arriving by British vessels were, until October, 1821, forwarded to the Commercial Room, which collected and paid the government the postage; but this arrangement always caused great jealousy to foreigners, and they are now sent to the Post Office, where every facility is afforded. Many English letters, however, to persons up the country, never reach their destination, from the practice of allowing any one to take letters from the office who will pay for them: mean curiosity has caused the loss of many letters by this mode.

The recent establishment of packets to Buenos Ayres (

the first of which, the Countess of Chichester, arrived on the 16th April, 1824) is an event of some consequence. They bring the correspondence for Chili and Peru, opening a direct and speedy communication with regions, which Spanish jealousy, not many years ago, had shut out from the rest of the world. The captains of these packets must not, for the present, expect to find their employments to Buenos Ayres very lucrative: but little specie goes home, and there are few passengers that can afford to pay the packet price, which really is not exorbitant, considering the excellent accommodations and fare provided; viz. For the cabin, £80 sterling; steerage, £40. Their arrival is looked forward to with great anxiety by all classes. At first, they made long passages; latterly, they have improved in this respect: the Lord Hobart packet came out in forty-seven days; the Eclipse brought thirteen passengers, chiefly gentlemen connected with mining affairs. They will soon prove a profitable employment to their commanders; and, certainly, the system altogether reflects the highest credit upon the British government, the only nation which has such an establishment.

The inclination which Englishmen, engaged in business, have, when at home, to live away from the scene of their pursuits, at a short distance from town, is shewn here; and we have the Stockwells, the Kenningtons, the Newingtons, the Camberwells, &c. of Buenos Ayres, with the attached farm-yards, orchards, and gardens, similar to those in the vicinity of London, wanting only the stages, and the eighteen-penny ride from the Bank and Gracechurch Street. Their houses may be easily recognized, from the degree of neatness and comfort attached. The house of Mr. Fair, situated upon an eminence near the water-side, southward of the Fort, is a good land-mark. Mr. F. has lately built it at a considerable expence. Mr. Cope’s house, near the Retiro, I think the most pleasantly situated of all.

The British have been engaged in numerous disputes with this government. The last that occurred was in April, 1821, upon the decree ordering all foreigners to take up arms; which the British very properly refused to do, for it could not be expected they would submit to be made parties in their quarrels. Captain O’Brien, of H.M.S. Slaney, then at anchor in the outer roads,[11] was appointed British agent, and a long correspondence took place. The affair was, however, settled by the merchants, and Captain O’Brien felt displeased, conceiving that, having been thrust forward officially, every arrangement ought to have come through him. This quarrel caused some stir in Buenos Ayres. One or two members of the Junta threatened us lustily; but those Tybalts were silenced by the moderate party. Since then, Mr. Rivadavia’s administration has made every thing go on amicably and smoothly.

The dispute between Captain Willes, of H.M.S. Brazen, and the government of Buenos Ayres, caused a considerable bustle. Captain W. was ordered, by his instructions, to board all vessels of his nation upon their arrival; in the execution of which, his boat was fired upon by the gun-brig stationed outside. Other disagreements took place; and Captain W. was ordered to quit the shore in two hours. He did so. When on board, fruitless efforts took place to accommodate matters. The boats of H.M. ship took possession of their brig, and sent her to the inner roads. The public mind was inflamed by a string of falsehoods and misrepresentations published in the Centinella newspaper; the doors of one or two English houses had threatening placards stuck upon them; and a list was handed about for signatures, to avenge the insult offered to their flag. I am not aware, if they meant to attack the Brazen; volunteers for such an expedition, I should think, would have been scarce. The British addressed a note to Captain W. soliciting, that, if consistent with his duty, he would leave Buenos Ayres, as the present irritation might lead to extremes. The Brazen sailed for Colonia; her captain stating, that nothing but consideration for his countrymen on shore should have tempted him so to do: and thus the affair ended.

The government had promised protection to British persons and property, the quarrel being a private one; but retaliation would, no doubt, have taken place, had Captain Willes remained, and seized any of their vessels. The Buenos Ayres government were somewhat precipitate in their proceedings, and wanting in their respect to the officer of a nation, which, if not in alliance, was on terms of strictest friendship with them. It was regretted by many, that Captain Willes refused to come on shore, when solicited by Mr. Rivadavia. Our captain was sadly hampered by what he conceived to be his duty, and the alarm on shore. Those gentlemen who had been long settled in the country, with their wives and families, wished, I have no doubt, that the Brazen had been a thousand miles off, particularly the female branches; though none, I trust, possessed spirits so mean, as to brook insult for the enjoyment of present comfort.

The outer roads had long been an object of dispute. I regret that, in this instance, it should have deprived us of the society of an officer, whose amiable manners and disposition delight all who have the happiness of knowing him. At Monte Video, Captain Willes was literally adored. I do not think the British would have been seriously molested, for they had numerous friends in the town, and Captain Willes was not without his advocates. A pamphlet, shortly after, appeared, said to be written by an Englishman, exposing the malevolence of the Centinella.

The appointment of consuls will prevent these disputes in future. Our naval officers are not the best diplomatists; they would, as a member in the House of Commons observed, “much rather fight than write.”

Some Germans, in Buenos Ayres, were in a terrible fright, lest they should be taken for Englishmen, when the supposed work of retaliation should begin. In complexion and appearance, they much resemble us, and they nearly all speak English. Germans and Americans are all denominated Englishmen by the natives; they cannot find out the distinction. A Creole boy once told me, that he supposed every body to be my countryman, that could say, How do you do? in English.

In the little disagreements that take place on the beach between the sailors and the natives, the term English brute is always applied to the former. These disputes are rare, for our sailors do not mix much amongst them.

Mr. Woodbine Parish, the British consul-general for Buenos Ayres, seems well adapted for the station he fills: his manners are mild and gentlemanly. The two vice-consuls, Messrs. Griffiths and Pousset, share in the same praise; the latter, in countenance and figure, much resembles the royal family; if he were a trifle more portly, one might fancy him the Duke of York.

The different states of this part of South America, such as Entre Rios, Cordova, Santa Fe, Mendoza, &c. sent Members, to attend the congress in Buenos Ayres, empowering the government to act for them in the treaty with England; which, after considerable discussion, has been signed and ratified. Mr. Parish, attended by the vice-consuls and other gentlemen, went in state to pay his respects to the governor upon the occasion. The reception of the consul was, of course, flattering: the flag was hoisted at the fort, and a gun fired. The clause which caused most debate in the congress, was that of religious toleration. Some of the members seemed alarmed. It was, however, allowed, with free liberty for Protestants to build their own places of public worship. This is something gained from ancient prejudices. I have not, however, a high opinion of English devoutness in Buenos Ayres. We have now a sort of prayer, or methodist meeting, held in a private house. A captain of a Liverpool brig brought out some religious tracts, which he circulated, and hoisted the Bethel flag in his vessel: I fear he found Buenos Ayres an uncongenial spot for those subjects.

Another article in this treaty which has given general satisfaction, is, that no British subject shall be compelled to military service. In any disputes upon this topic, the British have been the only foreigners who have stood forward to resist it; the others have remained passive spectators.

On Sundays and holidays, the British and American consuls hoist the flags of their respective nations from the tops of their houses. The Buenos Ayres flag floats by the side of the American: Colonel Forbes, like a skilful manager, studies the taste of the town.

I have noticed, that many of my countrymen, in their desire to visit their native land, still talk of returning to Buenos Ayres. They certainly must feel some attachment to a country in which they have lived happily for a series of years. Eight or ten years of absence from home makes a great alteration amongst our dearest friends; some are dead, and others are absent, or indifferent. In England, too, every one must be content to mix with the crowd.

A great many of the English are perfect masters of the Spanish language, having obtained their knowledge of it by a long residence in the country, and by coming to it at a very early age. I have been surprised at the quickness with which English children learn it: in a few months they are able to carry on a conversation, whilst those of riper age take years to attain it. When a man gets near thirty years of age, he feels little inclination to study languages.

In mentioning any thing of the English females in Buenos Ayres, I feel a delicacy bordering on timidity, and ought to recollect the homely proverb, “The least said is the soonest mended.” Certain, however, it is, that, with some exceptions, they are not a fair specimen of our country. Those placed in the higher circles are few in number, and appear to be amiable women, as are many whom I will take the liberty of calling the second class; but with respect to the lower orders, I can only say, that I have been more than once reminded of the neighbourhood of St. Giles’s. In reply to some remarks of a Spanish lady, I mustered courage to tell her, that, in spite of all the charming women of Buenos Ayres, we had those at home who equalled, if not far surpassed them; of which I would speedily convince her, could I, with Harlequin’s wand, waft her to my country, where they may be seen in all their charms of beauty and splendour; and that the few who traversed the ocean, formed no criterion, a voyage to South America being rather a serious undertaking for a lady.

In commenting upon the dowdy appearance which some of the British females make in this country, I am not singular;—all my countrymen converse upon it, and join me in my opinion.

Families should never think of bringing pretty unmarried servant girls with them from Europe; they are almost sure of losing them. Be the girls ever so determined, they will find a difficulty in resisting the offers of marriage from the numerous English bachelor mechanics, who are at a sad loss for wives:—a Spanish wife is not to their taste. Therefore, those who wish to keep their servants, must choose the ugliest they can procure—something that may be an antidote to the warm passions of our English Damons. An importation of British females with tolerable personal charms would answer here, as well as in many other places abroad. I wish some adventurer would beat up for recruits amongst the nursery maids at the west end of the town in London; it would be an excellent speculation, and serve the poor girls into the bargain.

Several Englishmen have married Buenos Ayrean ladies; and, from all accounts, they do not repent having done so. The worst of it is, in marrying into Spanish families, one may be said to marry all the family, for they expect to reside under the same roof. The English resist this, and with success: the good sense of their wives will make them conform to our ideas; yet the parting of a beloved daughter from the paternal roof must be a painful task for parents, whose only consolation is in yielding her to the arms of the man she loves.

Englishmen married to Spanish females have been, in a degree, obliged to conform to the Catholic ceremonies of marriage. The over-scrupulous will start at this; but, if they have ever been in love, they will readily conceive that these oaths of form may be swallowed with as much ease as many of the absurd ones of our Custom-House. The difference of religion, in liberal minds, cannot in any way disturb domestic harmony: we differ only in forms.

So great were religious prejudices not many years ago, that a lady would have hesitated, and her family interfered to prevent a marriage with one of “heretic creed.” The alteration is a credit to their understandings; it evinces that they are neither bigots nor fanatics. A generation of children are now springing up, half English, half Creolian, speaking both languages; their fathers teaching them English, their mothers Spanish. Could we look a few years forward, and see these youngsters grown to maturity, loving the land of their birth, and having a yearning towards that of their fathers, what important consequences may not result, in cementing friendships between nations that once regarded each other with a rooted dislike.

Englishmen who have married in this country, I should presume, intend making it their adopted land. It is an alternative that would cause me to pause: I could not consent to lose the hope of again seeing my paternal home. Now, if I could fancy such an event, as taking my Buenos Ayrean wife with me to London, lodging her in some fashionable mansion near Grosvenor Square, or in the Square itself—visiting the Opera and all the Theatres—pointing out to her Rossini, Catalani, our Braham, Stephens, Kean, and Macready, and explaining their different talents, poor Rosquellas, and the Señoras Tani, would be quite forgotten; and, instead of a ride on the Barracca Road, or to San José de Flores, San Isidro, &c. conducting her along the Queen’s Road to Putney, Richmond, or Windsor—taking a stroll with her in Kensington Gardens—Heavens! whither will my imagination lead me? and why cannot I persuade some kind-hearted Creolian to give me his daughter, and two hundred thousand dollars, in return for the fond love I should lavish on her?

The marriages of English people have been performed by captains of vessels of war, or in the presence of two or three merchants, whose signatures are said to be sufficient acts of parliament. The residence of a consul will obviate some of these difficulties.

The British community, in Buenos Ayres, lost one of its chief ornaments, by a melancholy suicide, which took place in December, 1824—that of Mr. Dallas, who cut his throat with a razor: disappointment in business is stated to be the cause. He has not left his equal in Buenos Ayres; his character fully warranted that expressive term in the English language—a perfect gentleman.

The death of Mr. Rowcroft, in Peru, caused infinite regret amongst the British in Buenos Ayres, by whom he was much respected. He was, probably, the first alderman of the city of London that ever crossed the Andes. It was hard to meet his death by the bullets of foreign soldiery. It is some consolation, that accident alone caused the fatal affair. It is said, that he was taken for a Spanish officer, Mr. R. being clothed in his uniform as Colonel of the City Light Horse, a dress he appeared particularly proud of.

A son of Sir Robert Wilson arrived here, and went to Peru; but he soon returned, and went to the Brazils, in order to join his father’s friend, Lord Cochrane.

Amongst my countrymen in this city, may be found some very eccentric characters, who would be accounted originals even at home.

Who has visited Buenos Ayres without having heard of the noisy drunken Englishman, Jack Hall, the Caleb Quotem of the town, and who, in appearance and dress, looked as if he had just escaped from Newgate. Poor Jack died in July, 1824, and was carried to the grave in his own cart, which had, for a series of years, borne so many of his countrymen to their last abode, and on that account was called “the English hearse.” Hall was a Jack of all trades, painter, glazier, whitewasher, &c. &c. The Spaniards, when he first arrived amongst them, viewed him as a prodigy.

Irishmen naturalized into American citizens, or what are called “Irish Yankies,” from time to time pass through Buenos Ayres, on their route to different parts: I have known several. It is heart-rending to think, that political events should thus have estranged men from their native country, and made them its bitterest enemies. It is true, they “rail against a rock they cannot pull down.” If an excuse can be found for them, it is that the hopes of their youth have been [blighted], and that oppression has made them aliens to their native land. North Americans remark, that those who abuse Great Britain most in the United States are our own countrymen. I believe it; and in the falsification of their long-told predictions of England’s downfall, there is a wider field opened for their hate, and to brood upon what is to happen to ill-fated England.

As regards some Irishmen whom I have known (or, if it must be so, “Irish Yankies”), I sincerely regret that I cannot embrace them, take them by the hand, and call them countrymen. I have noticed them to be men of warm imaginations; and when listening to any detail of Irish intrepidity in the French war—and where is it that Irish blood has not flowed in torrents for the cause of Great Britain?—their hearts appeared elated, and they knew every Irish officer who had distinguished himself; they spoke of his deeds with rapture, and, for the moment, assumed their natural character of British subjects;—for, say what they will, a man feels little enthusiasm in the glories of any nation but his own. I congratulated one upon the change in his ideas:—he started; “No,” said he, “I regret not the past; I am, and ever will remain, an American citizen.”

There are three North-American mercantile houses—Mr. Ford; Zimmerman and Co.; and Stewart and M’Call. The residents are few, excepting the casual visitors. I find a difficulty in distinguishing them from Englishmen, though a Creole friend of mine pretended to do it, describing the Americans as generally wearing white hats, spectacles, and carrying a stick. This observation I afterwards found tolerably correct. We laugh at their phrases—“I guess,”—“I calculate,”—“I expect,” &c.; and they retort upon our continual use of “You know,” in conversation. It will be well for the two nations, if their future differences consist only in laughing at each other’s peculiarities of speech.

The North Americans carry on a considerable trade in this river, and have brought some valuable cargoes from China and India. Flour, lumber, a few dry goods, soap, &c. are their general import; salt vessels also arrive from the Cape de Verd, which article is at times very profitable. Now and then the domestic manufactures of North America are brought to this market; but the profit of them, if any, must be very small. The immense capital, machinery, and talent of England, must for a long time give her the advantage over every other nation; and as regards North America, I should not suppose it would answer her purpose to divert her population from the health-inspiring pursuits of agriculture to a pernicious manufacture. Their chief commerce is in flour; and owing to one or two bad harvests in this province, the advantages have been great. It has been sold at thirty dollars per barrel; the cost in North America being only seven or eight. During the year 1823, upwards of 70,000 barrels of flour was thus imported into Buenos Ayres. For a country so luxuriant in soil to be dependent upon foreigners for bread, appears strange; but agriculture is yet young in South America.

The North-American trade is mostly carried on in ships with supercargoes: the captains are a superior set of men. But few English ships arrive; they are nearly all brigs, commanded by our roughest seamen: but these brigs often contain valuable cargoes. The Americans manage to run about the world with small cargoes. A number of their vessels come here for the purpose of being sold and broken up; which seems to be a good speculation, if we may judge from the number hauled upon the beach for that purpose: those ships that cut such a dashing figure at first sight, have only “a goodly outside, but are rotten within.”

The circumstance of North America having been the first to acknowledge the independence of this province has not insured to her any particular commercial privileges. In a coffee-house, one evening, I witnessed a serious debate amongst some Creolians; one of them, in the heat of argument, asserted that the acknowledgment by North America was of no more consequence to the state, than if the province of Santa Fé had done so. The acknowledgment by Spain and England is what materially interests them: North America, however, has decidedly paved the way for this.

Although there are a great many North-American mechanics, yet we find very few of them have shops of their own in Buenos Ayres. In the manufacture of boots, shoes, hats, &c. as well as dry goods, they must yield the palm to us. In the stores, a preference is given to English hams, cheeses, &c.; but I have tasted American articles of this description, of good quality. The Americans, aware of the partiality, pass off many of their goods as English; and I have purchased American soap with the British crown impressed upon it.

Perhaps in no part of the world has such a marked distance been kept between Americans and Englishmen as in Buenos Ayres; but this, I rejoice to observe, is subsiding. Both parties are to blame. The English are said to be the most conceited nation on earth; it may be true, but our North-American friends have a touch of that quality likewise. When told of this; their reply, that “their vices they inherit from us; their virtues are peculiarly their own.”

Mr.

Rodney, the minister from North America, departed this life on the 10th of June, 1824. His death was sudden, from an attack of apoplexy. The evening previous to his decease, he had a large assemblage of visitors at his house. He was a plain republican of the old school, and much esteemed by all parties: he has left a large family. The government of Buenos Ayres evinced the most marked respect to his memory.[12] Colonel Forbes is the Secretary of Legation: he has been in Buenos Ayres since October, 1820, and acted as agent to the United States till the arrival of Mr. Rodney.

The French are numerous in Buenos Ayres; report says, they are equal in number to the British, but I do not believe it. Their trade here, what there is of it, must be advantageous: they bring every requisite for the ladies’ toilet; fans, silk stockings, perfumery, scented waters, gloves, jewellery, and those nic-nacs in which the French so much excel. Some shops make a great figure in French goods, as silks, shawls, and every essential to gratify female taste. Roquin, Meyer, & Co. is the chief mercantile French house; but there are numbers of Buenos Ayrean and other firms, that import largely from France, as do also some English houses.

There are many gentlemanly and intelligent men amongst the French settled in Buenos Ayres; but the mass will not bear a comparison with the British in point of respectability. Frenchmen themselves allow this, and laugh at the billiard-markers and waiters of Parisian growth. The superior class are to be found in the best societies of the city. Their lively manners and conversation have ever been a contrast to the reserve of the English; and, as companions, they may be more sought after than my modest countrymen: a Frenchman is at home in all countries.

The English likewise visit the first families, and give at times splendid entertainments, or tertulias; yet, I have fancied, they appear more happy when amongst themselves. Their behaviour has been attributed to pride and many other causes: the French term “mauvaise honte,” affords a better solution. Notwithstanding these drawbacks, I am convinced, the British character is esteemed; and, however the French may beat us in companionship, they cannot deprive us of that esteem.

The news of Napoleon’s death caused great tribulation in French society at Buenos Ayres. It was some time ere they would believe it; it must be a trick, they said, of the English; and until the causes of his death became so well authenticated, expressions of foul play were more than whispered. Their love for this “man of blood” has ceased to astonish me: were I a Frenchman, it is probable I should love him too.[13] On Bonaparte’s birth-day, in 1821, I observed the tri-coloured flag, waving from a French pulperia near the beach. This flag, once so formidable, and which made every Briton prepare for “bloody fight,” now floats harmlessly in Buenos Ayres, being used as a signal for merchant vessels.

A great many Portuguese are residents of Buenos Ayres, as merchants, shopkeepers, &c.; they carry on a constant commerce with the Brazils.

The jealousy, bordering upon contempt, in which the Spaniards affect to hold the Portuguese, is very conspicuous here. At the theatre, when a Portuguese character is represented, the performer is arrayed fantastically, strutting about the stage with self-assumed importance, amidst vehement laughter and applause, as fervent and more boisterous than that bestowed upon Sheridan’s “little cunning Portuguese,” Isaac Mendoza.

Germans, Italians, and, indeed, the natives of all countries, are to be met with in Buenos Ayres, as merchants, store and shopkeepers, &c.

Mr. Schmaling, agent to the Prussian Linen Company, has lately established an extensive mercantile house in Buenos Ayres. The Prussian cloths and flannels have been bought with much avidity, a preference being given to them from their being cheaper, and some say better than our’s. Mr. S. sold his cloths 20 per cent. cheaper than the English could afford to sell. It is hard to be undersold in a foreign market, in what was once considered our staple commodity. British skill, however, I have no doubt, will surmount this temporary advantage: the repeal of the wool tax may be one step towards it.

Persons, Dispositions, and Manners of the Native or Spanish Inhabitants.—It might be supposed, from the latitude in which Buenos Ayres is situated, that the faces and general appearance of the natives would partake of a dusky hue: as regards the male sex, this is certainly the case, though here and there the reverse is seen. Of the females, however, many can boast a countenance of roses and lilies, equal to those of a colder climate. Amongst the mulatto cast, there are some pretty girls. I have noticed that some distinctions are kept up, the word mulatto being often used as a term of reproach: this is illiberal. One or two families of red-haired children are rather remarkable in a country where the darker hue predominates. I really thought they were of Scotch extraction, till I was informed to the contrary. Some scandalous wits have dared to be jocular on the occasion, asserting that they must be the offspring of Beresford’s Scotch regiment, the 71st, who were here in 1806.

It is rarely we see, in Buenos Ayres, a person marked with the small pox, vaccination being generally practised;[14] and very few deformed people. Indeed, the generality of them may be called handsome. The young men are well grown, possess good figures, and their manners render them truly agreeable.

Faces may be seen here, of female beauty, worthy a painter’s study;—the intelligent dark eye, polished forehead, and persons moulded by grace itself. England is called the land of beauty, and it deserves its name; but beauty is not peculiar to England alone. Buenos Ayres contains within its walls as much loveliness as imagination can dream of.[15]

The stately elegance of walk, for which the Spanish ladies are so remarkable, is in no place more conspicuous than in Buenos Ayres; and it is not confined to the upper class—females of all descriptions possess it; one must therefore conclude it to be an acquired accomplishment. If my fair countrywomen would deign to imitate them in this respect, and get rid of that ungraceful postman-like pace they now have, I should love them all the better.

The inhabitants possess a happy medium between French vivacity and English reserve. An Englishman feels at home with them; for should he be deficient in the language, he need not fear that his blunders will be laughed at. In sickness, they are proverbial for their kind attention, as many of my countrymen have experienced, preparing every little delicacy they think will please. It is only to know these people, to esteem them.

Their happy disposition, and having so few real cares, protect them from suicide, that calamity which afflicts populous Europe. The future provision for a family, indeed, scarcely enters their thoughts, in a country where “a fathom of beef can be purchased for sixpence.” This expression was used by an English “beach-ranger,” when trying to prevail upon some of a Falmouth packet’s crew to desert.

Although there may be families who, in the common acceptation of the term, are well off, yet I do not think there are many who are extraordinarily rich, that is to say, worth from 30 to £50,000 sterling. Houses, cattle, and land constitute the best property.

The enthusiasm with which the Spaniards regard the female sex, like most other things, has, doubtless, been exaggerated. In Buenos Ayres, if they have not exactly caught this enthusiasm, they have done better: their attentions are founded on real respect to the virtues of the sex, and are therefore more likely to last.

The character given to Spaniards of all descriptions for jealousy of their females, must have been either fabulous, or a great change has taken place; for nothing approaching to it can be observed in their descendants here. The gentlemen conduct themselves with the most marked politeness towards the females, paying them the greatest attention and respect. I have heard it asserted, that they make negligent husbands. In every populous city, no doubt, many of this class are to be found; but those Buenos Ayrean husbands, whom I have the pleasure of knowing, seem devotedly attached to their wives, behaving with a tenderness not every day found even in England, that land of domestic felicity.

The ladies appear equal in affection; and are kind and tender mothers. It is pleasing to see the care and fondness they bestow on their children. A stranger need not be a day in Buenos Ayres without discovering this; and such traits speak volumes. They do not follow the unmotherly practice of putting their infants out to nurse, thinking it no disgrace to suckle their own offspring. In my opinion, there is as fair a proportion of married happiness in this city, as can be found in those that bear a name of being more domesticated.

The compliments of salutation are much the name as in England with the gentlemen, viz. the good old hearty shake of the hand. The French embrace of the males, kissing each other, is not followed; for which I am better pleased. Much as I esteem my friends of Buenos Ayres, I wish no other than female lips to touch my cheek. The salutation of the females, on bidding adieu for long journeys, or on returning from one, is kissing and embracing each other: in this respect they differ but little from British females—perhaps a little more fervent. I have seen ladies, when returned from a voyage to Monte Video, hug their old black servant, who has come to meet them on the beach, with all the ardour of affection, so different from our notions of propriety.

Should a lady be seized with a fit of yawning, she crosses herself with the most burlesque sanctity. The style in which they cross themselves, requires a rehearsal to understand it: they touch the cheeks, chin, and bosom, quick, with the thumb, or, as a military man would denominate it, “in double quick time.”

A very pleasing practice exists, of giving flowers to visitors, as a mark of respect: some fair lady hands a rose or tulip. I recollect, a charming girl gave me a rose, a few days after my arrival, and my vanity was not a little gratified by it; and I felt some mortification in finding it was only the common civility of the place.

Smoking segars is a general practice—I might almost add, with men, women, and children; the ladies of the better class always excepted, though report says, they will, in secret, take the luxury of a segar. I hope report has erred in this respect—indeed, I think it has; for such an outrage against my English feelings, as a Buenos Ayrean lady smoking, would abate much of the enthusiasm I feel for them. In the male sex I like to see it; and the pleasure it seems to afford, has repeatedly made me regret that I am no smoker. Here boys of eight, nine, and ten years of age, may be seen smoking.

The English soon get into the fashion; and most of them are as fond of the segar as the natives, who are smoking from the time they get up, until they go to bed. If they ride on horseback, a segar is in their mouths. Should they want a light in the streets, it is only to stop the first person they meet smoking, to obtain one. I have often smiled to see a first-rate Creolian dandy lighting his segar from that of some dirty black fellow.

Havannah segars are the favourites; but they are dear, and not at all times to be had in perfection. The paper ones, or segars de Hoja, made from the tobacco-leaf, are mostly used, and by many preferred. The manufacture of them affords employment to a great many people, including females.

So refined are their ideas of politeness, that a person smoking invariably takes the segar from his mouth, when passing another in the street.

In another branch of politeness, Buenos Ayres is not outdone, even by Paris itself; viz. the constant custom of taking off the hat, when meeting each other in the street. The English mode of touching the hat is too groom and footman-like, to be followed here: their’s is taken entirely from the head; and, when in compliment to ladies, they remain uncovered until the objects of their politeness have passed. It is managed gracefully—removing the hat from behind, similar to those who are accustomed to wear wigs; it may be, to save the fronts from dilapidation, which such continual calls on them would occasion.[16]

The plant called yerba, the growth of Paraguay and the Brazils, is the tea of Buenos Ayres. They drink it out of a small globe, to which a tube is fixed, nearly as long as our tobacco-pipe; it is called the matté-pot, and the beverage drawn from the yerba, is the matté. These pots are generally of silver; and they hand them from one to the other, in drinking—a practice not the most cleanly. When I first saw the tubes in the ladies’ mouths, I conceived they were smoking. Matté has not a bad flavour, but nothing equal to tea. It is reported by some to be pernicious to the teeth. In visiting parties it is always handed round. It carries such an idea of the tobacco-pipe, that I do not much admire seeing these matté-pots in the hands of ladies.

The general time of meals in Buenos Ayrean families is pretty nearly as follows:—They have matté the first thing, which they often take in bed; at eight or nine, they have what we should call breakfast, beef-steaks, &c.; dinner at two and three; matté at six and seven, followed often by a supper. The fashionable London hours of breakfasting at one and two in the afternoon, and dining at eight and nine in the evening, have not travelled to this quarter of the globe yet. They drink wine out of tumbler glasses.

The siesta, or afternoon nap, is not so regularly taken as formerly: they have got more into the habits of business, and cannot afford time for sleeping in the day; and it does away with the remark, that, during siesta time, nobody is to be seen in the streets, but Englishmen and dogs. The siesta has its regular season; it is supposed to begin with the summer season, in October, and end at the close of the summer, or passion week. The plodding and industrious world cry out against this practice, as encouraging sloth; but I think a nap after dinner, in warm latitudes, both refreshing and conducive to health.

Houses are not provided with the convenience of bells: their servants are summoned either by calling, or making a noise upon the tables. At meals, the servants and slaves are in attendance at the table.

They retire to rest, in winter, at ten or eleven; in summer, later, as at this season they enjoy the cool of the evening from the azoteas, or from seats near the windows.

A walk in the streets on a fine summer’s night is not uninteresting, from the number of ladies walking and at the windows. Evening is the time devoted by ladies to shopping. A night previous to a holiday or Sunday, the shops are crowded.

In families of respectability, which have unmarried daughters, weekly tertulias, or public dances, are often held during the winter, which, they say, are for the purpose of shewing the young ladies off, and getting them husbands: as I am not in the secret, I only give it as I hear it.

These dances are got up at very little expence or preparation. One of the ladies presides at the piano; the refreshments are cakes, sweetmeats, and liqueurs: a few dollars provides for all; and I like their plan—it looks more like a friendly entertainment. The sumptuous repasts provided on such occasions in England, bespeak so much of ceremony as considerably to mar the pleasure.

On birth-days, compliments are sent and received, with presents of sweetmeats, &c. and dinners and tertulias are given. Those days are more kept up than with us; but the itinerant musicians, about the doors, has a little fallen off lately.

Sweetmeats are much eaten, and by the children in large quantities. In coffee-houses they sprinkle the toast with sugar: an English child would call them “sugar-babies.” I am not dentist enough to decide whether this is one of the causes of decayed teeth, so often observed in young people, and the prevailing malady of the tooth-ache; but persons are continually seen with their faces tied up for this complaint: it is, indeed, a disease of the country. Bad teeth is a sad drawback, as they are both “useful and ornamental;” and the purchase of new teeth and gums, in Buenos Ayres, would be rather difficult: besides, all the world must know about it. In London and Paris, such things pass as nothing.

When walking in public, the female rarely takes the arm of a gentleman, except it be night. This seems to us an unsocial fashion. At dark, however, the restriction ceases, and ladies will then honour us by accepting our arm: with married persons this is more common. The Englishman and his wife, in spite of Spanish modes, are seen trotting comfortably along the Alameda, on a Sunday, arm-in-arm, as if at home.

Neither is it the fashion for gentlemen to escort the ladies, but to the theatre, or public places: their visits and shopping are in company only with their own sex. If a fair lady should wave this rule, and allow us to proceed by their side for a few streets, it would be the height of vulgarity to offer the arm. In England we have other notions of gentility.

At the ball room, the females sit together, when not engaged in dancing. During this pause, some gentleman will, with hesitating steps, approach them, and solicit a lady to waltz, or dance a minuet with him.

The Spaniards pride themselves upon the delicacy and respect with which they treat the females; and though there are many Spanish customs which I think “more honoured in the breach than the observance,” this is one, I trust, will last for ever.

The Buenos Ayreans are passionately fond of dancing. Their evening hours are given to this pastime: in their houses, daughters, mothers, nay, grandmothers, will enjoy it with all the spirit of youth. To me it is the most gratifying sight—a proof that age is not always accompanied by moroseness. I have been delighted to see father, mother, daughters, and sons, dancing with that apparent happiness, as if life had no other object but enjoyment.

Walking in the environs of the town, one evening, a family dance attracted my attention; and I looked through the windows. The ladies saw me, and the master of the house came out, entreating me to enter, with the Spanish compliment, “that his house and family were entirely at my service.” He seemed disappointed at my declining the invitation. These evening family dances are very fascinating.

It is said, a Frenchman, from his gaiety, never gets old; the observation applies with equal truth to this people. In our peculiar England, education, climate, and the state of society, render its inhabitants more thoughtful and care-worn: we regard as frivolity what other nations consider the essentials of existence; yet, in general, we are not the gloomy people foreigners would paint us. We can love, and hate, too, with all or more of the fervour ascribed to warmer climes.

Of the dances, some are pretty. The steps of the Spanish dances have a great sameness. The ladies appear graceful; but, indeed, when is it they do not?

The cielito, or little heaven, is opened by the parties chaunting a part of a song all the time in movement, and smacking their fingers together; it then proceeds to the figure.

The contre-danse is involved in intricacies and positions rather difficult to a stranger; twisting the arms, and running in and out, like the game of Thread-my-needle, or, excepting the tumbling part, the comic dance in Mother Goose. The English contre-danse has more life and variety both in music and figure.

Waltzing is a favourite: they have not read the lectures of our moralists upon it, but indulge in the mazes of this luxurious dance.

The minuet dance here is, I think, tame and ungraceful.

The piano forte is the favourite musical instrument; and every well-educated young lady is supposed to possess some knowledge of it. I have heard them perform with great taste and skill. The young and interesting daughter of Don Cornelius Saavedra, Doña Dominga, I thought, excelled; and, with instruction, would be a proficient. This young lady, with a countenance just “budding into beauty,” has talents, which, if properly cultivated, will adorn society. Her father, Don Cornelius, was the first Director of the Province after the Revolution, and one of the old and respectable families. His manners are very pleasing: in person, he much resembles a British general officer. Like many others, he has forsaken the sword for the ploughshare, and resides upon his estate, ninety miles from town, on the banks of the Parana.

A good piano will sell for 1000 dollars: the English, in this likewise, take the lead, and those of Clementi, Stodart, &c. are found in many houses; Miss Saavedra has a fine-toned one of Clementi’s. The French and German pianos do not readily sell.

Male teachers of music (and, on mentioning these, the remark of Anastasius occurs to me) find good employment in this city, where all are so musical. An English lady, Miss Robinson, gives lessons on this heavenly science.

The Consulado musical school-rooms, with the young ladies warbling there on a morning, repeatedly attract the attention of the passing pedestrian. At one o’clock, attended by their mammas and slaves, with music-book under arm, those little syrens trudge home. On one or two occasions, there has been a public trial of musical skill, a sort of show-off before their relations and friends.

A musical subscription society, called The Philharmonics, has been established, and the most respectable natives and foreigners are subscribers. The vocal and instrumental performers from the theatre attend there. It is a superior affair, and held in a spacious sala of what was formerly a prison—the “Coona:” Orpheus has driven away the ministers of justice.

Using an English phrase, the mothers of Buenos Ayres keep “a sharp look-out” after their daughters, attending them to public places, and in the streets. Should the mother, by any chance, be absent, the care is probably delegated to a slave or servant, who may have their secret orders whispered to them, as well as other trusty centinels. But cannot the slave be bribed? If report speaks true, they are so; and the ardent lover has been ready to embrace the black messenger that has conveyed to him tidings from a beloved mistress.

Young ladies before marriage are, by some mothers, watched with great strictness, not unlike austerity. I fear, females here, as well as in other countries, have often given their hands without their hearts. “Why did you marry?” said a friend of mine to a lady who seemed unhappy. “To gain my liberty,” she eagerly exclaimed, “as many others have done before me.”

Marriage with the Buenos Ayres female takes place at an early age, frequently at thirteen and fourteen. Certain it is, they ripen into womanhood much sooner than those of our clime; and their beauties more quickly fade. An English female at forty looks as young as a Buenos Ayrean at thirty. How many charming and attractive women we find in England at the age of forty; and though I cannot quite agree with our gracious sovereign in his admiration of “fair, fat, and forty,” yet I have known, at home, some ladies at that age with charms and acquirements sufficient to alarm a sensitive heart. In Buenos Ayres I have likewise seen females whose beauty seems to improve as years advance; but this is a rare occurrence.

In marriage, the custom of all the family living together seems strange to English ideas, and we cannot help picturing petty jealousies and quarrels amongst such a groupe. Custom, however, and their natural happy temper, free from the corroding cares of more populous countries, prevent these. I cannot help admiring their happiness in this respect, and I trust they may long enjoy it. I know the misery I should feel, were I a father, to see a beloved child depart for ever from the parental roof.

Married females still preserve their maiden name, conjoined with that of their husband’s. The children by such marriage bear the surname of the father. The saint’s-day on which they may be born provides them with a Christian name; and, as the Romish church has a saint for every day in the calendar, the difficulties that the Rev. Mr. Shandy had to encounter are avoided.

In the lottery of names, people of all classes take their chance. It is rather droll to hear the black girls addressing each other by the names of Eugenia, Marcela, Florencia, &c. Some fair ladies bear the pretty romantic names of Rosaria, Irené, Magdalena, Victoria, Martina, Fortunata, Celestina, Adriana, &c. whilst others, not so fortunate in their time of coming into the world, are obliged to be content with the ordinary ones of Juana, Tomasa, &c. But what is there in a name? a rose would smell as sweet under any other name.

John is unquestionably the most vulgar of all names; it is worse than Tom: every body applies it, when unacquainted with one’s real appellation. In Buenos Ayres, a stranger is addressed as “Don Juan.” The Toms and Jacks of the Spanish vocabulary are softened down into Tomas and Juan.