W. H. Koebel

Formation of the land—A survey of the country—Features of the soil—Types of wild flowers—A land of hill, valley, and stream—The glamour of the distance—"The purple land"—Breezes of the Campo—An exhilarating country—The dearth of homesteads—The Uruguayan Gaucho—His physique—The product of the blowy uplands—Matters of temperament—His comparative joviality—The Gaucho as worker, player, and fighter—The manipulation of feuds—A comparison between Argentina and Uruguay—Warrior ancestors of the Gaucho—His sense of dignity and honour—Conservative habits and customs—Costume and horse gear—Strenuous bailes—Some homeric feats of dancing—Stirring revelry—The Uruguayan land-owner—Foreign elements in the land—Negro inhabitants of the Banda Oriental—The numerical status of the Africans in the north and in the south—Absence of a racial question—The slavery of former days—The employment of black troops in war—Lenient treatment of negro slaves—Harsh measures applied to aboriginal Indians—A lesson in human economy—Testimony of a contemporary writer—Immigrant colonies.

The Uruguayan Campo is not to be described without a certain amount of hesitation. It would be simple enough for one who had caught only a distant passing glimpse of the land of the pastures to put down the country without further ado as rolling grass upland watered by many streams. That such is the foundation of the Campo is undeniable. Nevertheless to begin and end with such a phrase would be equivalent to a description of the peacock as a bird who wears coloured feathers.

The subtle charms of the Uruguayan Campo are not to be discerned through the medium of the bioscope-like glimpses that so many travellers obtain of it. Very rightly, it refuses to reveal itself fully until a certain amount of familiarity has justified a nearer acquaintance. From an Æsthetic point of view it certainly holds far more than might be expected from a country of such comparatively limited attributes.

If you desire to watch the moods of this rural Banda Oriental, ride out to mount one of the higher shoulders of the downland, and wait there, either in the saddle or out of it. You will obtain little sympathy in the task. Eccentric to the mind of the estancieros, frankly mad in the eagle eyes of the Gaucho—a calm survey of the Campo is worth all such merely human depreciation!

The aspect of the country in the immediate neighbourhood of where the observer has taken his stand will be green in the main, although the unbroken verdure by no means obtains throughout. Here and there the ground is strongly marked by the occasional heaps of stones that come jostling to the surface, and that recline in the fashion of small bleak islands in the midst of the green waves. But, should the time be spring, these latter are themselves flecked frequently almost to the extinction of their own colouring. The great purple bands and patches of the flor morala lie thickly upon the land. These, however, stand apart, since where they glow the serried ranks of blossom permit no others to raise their heads.

But these, though the boldest of their kind, are by no means the sole occupants of the landscape. Indeed, one of the chief characteristics of the Banda Oriental Campo is the wealth of beautiful and comparatively lowly plants that grow amidst the grasses. They are of the type of English blossoms, peering out shyly from between the green blades, blowing purely and sweetly in their innocence of the heavy sickliness of the tropics. It is where the ground is chiefly dotted with these fresh flowers that the smile of the Campo is most brilliant.

So much for the immediate surroundings up to the point where the more intricate markings become merged in the broader tints of the landscape. Down in the hollows are bands of dark, close green formed by the trees that shade the streams. With scarcely a break in the narrow walls of verdure they run from valley to valley, accurately defining the banks of the small rivers whose waters they conceal. Within these leafy lanes lurk the only spots upon the Campo, save for the rare woodland, that do not stare frankly upwards, exposing all their earthly soul to the blue sky.

Away in the far distance there is a magic glamour. There the lands are no longer green to the eye. The soft waves, as they rise and dip in an accumulation of folds towards the final horizon line, are bathed in warm purple. The Banda Oriental has been called "the purple land" by one who knew it well, and never was a name better applied. Without the foreground—that is itself strongly purpled by the banks of the flor morula—all is purple and mystic. The land has its ordinary mirages as well; but here is one that at all times confronts the traveller—that wonderful land of the horizon that, unattainable, dies farther away as it is approached.

Yet, notwithstanding its soft romance, the place is essentially alive. It is a blowy haunt of clean fresh airs that sweep the slopes and open valleys to billow the grass tops and to refresh mankind. It is amidst such surroundings that the Oriental of the country dwells. His type is not very numerous, it is true, and—although the dearth of houses suits the landscape itself most admirably—the scarcity of habitation is a little lamentable in so wealthy and pleasant a land. It is practically certain, as a matter of fact, that the pastures will bear more roots in the near future than they have ever known in the past; but in the meanwhile it is necessary to take them as they are, and their inhabitants as well.

Of these inhabitants the true paisano, the Gaucho, decidedly claims the chief share of attention. The Gaucho of the Banda Oriental is not to be confused with his brethren of the neighbouring countries. In appearance he presents perhaps the finest specimen amongst the various kindred families of his race. He is taller in stature, and, if possible, even more athletic in his lithe frame than his neighbour. His complexion, moreover, though frequently dusky and invariably tanned, is peculiarly wholesome and fresh. It was inevitable that the blowy downlands should have produced a fitting and appropriate breed of amazingly healthy, hardy, and fearless men to whom the art of horsemanship has become second nature, while the occasional enforced spells of pedestrianism have degenerated into a mere unwelcome accident of life.

The temperament of the Uruguayan Gaucho shows corresponding distinction from that of the rest. It goes without saying that he is strongly imbued with the grim dignity of the race. Silent austerity here, however, is modified by lighter traits. In the same way as the higher social member of his country, he is more easily moved to laughter than his neighbours, and indulges from time to time in frank outbursts of joviality.

For practical purposes it is necessary to regard this child of the Campo from three standpoints—from that of the worker, the player, and the fighter. It is rare enough that one of them is not called upon to fill all these three rÔles on a good many occasions during his lifetime. As stock-rider, he has proved his courage, fidelity, and honesty of purpose to the full; his moments of recreation are taken up by equestrian sports, guitar-playing, and chance affairs of the heart, whilst in warfare he has had only too many opportunities of displaying his reckless brilliancy—frequently, it must be admitted, at the cost of discipline and order.

In his private quarrels the Argentine Gaucho will bottle up his wrath until his overflowing passion culminates without warning in the rapid knife thrust or revolver shot. The conclusion of a serious dispute between his Uruguayan brethren will almost certainly be the same; but the tragic climax will be approached in quite another fashion. The atmospheric effervescence of the Banda Oriental will enter into the case. There will be shouting, vociferation, and not a little abuse. Not until a fair exchange of all this has been bandied to and fro will come the flash of steel or flame—and the red stain upon the grasses of the Campo.

That these dwellers upon the downlands should prove themselves born fighters is no matter for surprise. For the dusky side of their ancestry they claim the CharrÚa Indians, the fiercest and most warlike of all the tribes in the neighbouring provinces. With this strain added to the blood of the old Spaniards, and the mixture fostered and nourished by the breezy hills, the result has been a being whose keen sense of dignity and honour were ever in the very active custody of knife or lance.

As is perhaps natural enough in a land whose interests—as compared with the agricultural development of the neighbouring countries—are almost purely pastoral, the habits and customs of the Oriental have remained unusually conservative. His poncho is a veritable poncho, often of a bizarre and daring hue; his spurs are weapons that glitter in huge circles at his heels, while his horse furniture is frequently silvered to the very last degree.

When the Gaucho undertakes a dance—a baile—moreover, he enters into the performance with a zest that puts to shame the human products of a later civilisation. In order to witness one of the most homeric of these exhibitions it is necessary to suppose the revellers in the peculiarly reckless and irresponsible mood that from time to time falls to their lot. On such an occasion their wonted strict sobriety is abruptly melted beneath the flow of the native spirit, caÑa, and perhaps that of wine, and of beer. Then upon the open sward of the Campo they will dance their tangos, stepping it manfully for hour after hour.

Indeed, strengthened by the intervals of rest, refreshment, and sleep, it is not unusual for them to continue these tremendous terpsichorean feats for two or three days on end. At the conclusion of which, having danced themselves out and drunk themselves in, these astonishing mortals are perfectly ready for their strenuous work in the saddle!

Having concluded with the Gaucho, it soon becomes evident that the main features of individuality that distinguish the Uruguayan from his neighbours are very nearly finished with as well. The landowner, it is true, still clings in parts to ancient customs and the remnants of national costume rather more closely than elsewhere in the Southern republics. But the distinctions here are less marked, and in the case of the townsmen have disappeared altogether. An important factor in the population is now provided by the large foreign element that has settled itself permanently in the country. By far the most numerous communities of these are those of the Italians and Spaniards; but in addition there is scarcely a European country that is not more or less strongly represented by its emigrants.

The negro race, although its presence is more marked than in the republics to the West, is quite insignificant numerically in the South of Uruguay. Towards the north, however, the numbers of the Africans are much increased, and as the Brazilian frontier is closely approached, the black people tend rather to predominate over the white. It is only in these remote districts that the possibility of a racial question could be involved. As a matter of fact, such an eventuality is quite undreamed of, and nowhere in the world is it less likely to occur. In the absence of any drawn distinction the negro appears to exist in more or less complete peace, and only meddles with the affairs of the country during troublous times when instructed by the true lords of the soil, whose actual superiority would seem all the greater for the fact of its being unexpressed.

Considering the number of slaves that were imported directly into Uruguay as well as those that filtered southwards through Brazil, it is perhaps somewhat a matter for astonishment that these blacks are not numerically stronger than is the case. The explanation lies largely in the numerous wars by which the country has been harassed in the past, and in the policy that prevailed under the old Spanish regime. Black troops were freely employed then, and it must be admitted that they met with far less consideration than the rest. If a desperate situation arose, they were wont to be sent out in search of a glory that was very remote and of a death that was very near, not necessarily because the Spaniards feared for themselves in the attempt, but rather on account of the science of racial economy, and on the principle of sacrificing the pawns before the more aristocratic chessmen. And it is to these wholesale gaps in the black ranks that the existing scarcity of the negro population in the South is largely due.

Not that it must be inferred from this that the general treatment of the African slaves by the Spaniards was severe. Their fate has always been entirely distinct from that of the unfortunate native Indians. The blood of these latter, slain by the first generation of adventurous conquistadores, flowed in red rivers almost the length and breadth of South America, while tens of thousands more sank and died beneath the superhuman tasks imposed upon them.

Nevertheless they were not sacrificed from mere wanton love of slaughter. Held as soulless instruments from whom the last possible ounce of labour was to be extracted, these fearful slaughterings were instigated as acts of discipline that should make more pliant and serviceable material of the general body, while the cowed met their slower, toilful death in order that their masters should obtain wealth ere the advent from Europe of further competitors who might desire to share their wealth with them.

After a while the limitations both of the continent and of the labour capacities of its natives became evident, and the first spasms of the remorseless and feverish lust moderated. It was then that the introduction of the negro occurred. With the maturing of the continent came a milder and more settled form of civilisation, of which the dusky imported labourers obtained the full benefit. That they were well cared for in times of peace is testified to not only by the native historians but by perfectly unbiassed English travellers. One of these, who visited Uruguay during the last years of the Spanish dominion, is particularly emphatic on the point.

"There is one trait," he writes, "in the South American Spaniards much in their favour. I mean the mild, humane, and gentle treatment which their slaves receive. This one would scarcely expect from the cruelty they manifest to animals. The condition of the Africans here is without doubt happier than in any other part of the world where they are held in slavery, and I will even venture to say, more so than in their native country. A severe punishment is seldom inflicted; the tasks imposed on them are light, and such as they can easily execute. Indeed, they scarcely seem to be slaves."

If any palliation for enforced human labour were possible it might be looked for in evidence such as this. Nevertheless, since nothing of the kind is admissible, it is well to remember that the slave era in the River Plate countries is now a matter of comparatively remote history. Moreover, as though in compensation for a former servitude, however light, the lot of the African here is now undoubtedly happier than almost anywhere else in the world.

In addition to the ordinary foreign landowners and residents in Uruguay are a few of the regular immigrant colonies the establishment of which has now become so popular throughout the Southern republics. Of these the most important is the Swiss Colony in the neighbourhood of Colonia, to which reference has already been made.