Notes of a naturalist in South America

On the evening of the 24th I had the advantage of meeting the representatives of nearly all the European powers then present at Lima at the table of Don R. C – , a native gentleman of large fortune and influential position. The entertainment might properly be described as sumptuous, and, excepting in some royal palaces, could not easily be matched in Europe. One feature, indeed, was unique, and appealed to the susceptibility of a botanist. The vases heaped with choice specimens of tropical fruits could scarcely have been seen out of Peru. The occasion was not one on which political questions could with propriety be discussed, but I was struck by the complete agreement amongst men of various nationalities, whose duty it was to know the real state of things, as to the formidable prospect of anarchy and disorder that must ensue whenever the Chilian forces should be withdrawn from Lima and the adjoining provinces – a prospect, I need scarcely add, that has been since fully realized.

Soon after sunrise on the 25th Mr. Nation was good enough to call for me. We had agreed to make a short excursion along the bed of the Rimac, the best, if not the only, ground near the city where one can form some idea of the indigenous vegetation of the low country. As happens elsewhere, the river has carried down seeds or roots of many plants of the valley, which find a home on its broad gravelly bed, while the continual moisture has enabled many species of the plain, elsewhere dried up at this season, to maintain a vigorous growth. The little expedition was full of interest, and, with the aid of Mr. Nation’s extensive local knowledge, I was able to make acquaintance with many forms of vegetation not hitherto seen. It was necessary to return early to the town, as my Chicla collections required many hours of diligent work until nightfall, when I had the pleasure of joining an agreeable party at the house of Mr. Graham, the British chargé d’affaires.

M. LOMBARDI.

Among other scientific or social engagements, I called on the following day upon M. Lombardi, the author of a voluminous work on Peru, of which three large volumes have already appeared. M. Lombardi is a man of varied and extensive acquirements, especially in natural history, and in the course of frequent travels through the interior has accumulated a large mass of new materials of no slight value. Unfortunately, his work has been planned on a scale needlessly vast and costly; and now that the funds, at one time freely supplied by the Government, are no longer forthcoming, the prospect of its completion seems rather uncertain. The drawings and dissections of many species of plants from the higher regions of the Andes not hitherto figured, which M. Lombardi was good enough to show me, appeared to be very carefully executed, and their publication, in whatever form, would be welcomed by botanists.

A PERUVIAN SUGAR PLANTATION.

I had accepted an invitation to visit on the 27th a hacienda belonging to Don R. C – and his brothers at a place called Caudivilla, about twenty miles north of Lima. In company with an agreeable party of the officers of two Italian frigates then stationed at Callao, we started by the railway which runs parallel to the coast from Lima to Ancon and Chancay. At a station about three miles from the hacienda, we left the main line, and were conveyed to our destination on a private line of railway belonging to the estate. This is a tract of flat country about eight miles long by four in breadth, extending to the base of the outermost spurs of the Cordillera, and watered by a stream from the higher range in the background. It is almost exclusively devoted to sugar-cultivation, and in the large buildings which we inspected the whole process of extracting sugar and rum from the cane was proceeding on a large scale, and with the aid of the most complete machinery and apparatus. Although some fifteen hundred workmen are employed upon the works, it appeared as if human labour played but a small part in the processes wherein steam power was the chief agent. Trains of small trucks, laden with sugar-cane cut to the right length, were drawn up an incline, the contents of each tilted in turn into a huge vat, wherein it was speedily crushed. We followed the torrent of juice which constantly flowed from this reservoir through a succession of large chambers until it reached the final stage, in which, purified and condensed, it is at once converted into crystals of pure sugar when thrown off by the centrifugal action of a rapidly revolving axis, while the colourless pellucid product which is to furnish the rum of commerce was conveyed into vessels whose dimensions would put to shame the great tun of Heidelberg.

I confess to having felt less interest in the industrial results of this admirably conducted estate, than in what I was able to learn of the human beings employed and their relations to their employers; and I found here matter for agreeable surprise. The workmen are partly agricultural labourers engaged in the sugar-plantation and other outdoor work, partly those employed in and about the factory. Among them were representatives of various races, the Chinese being perhaps in a majority, but with a considerable proportion of negroes and half-caste natives of Peru. I was struck at first with a general air of well-being among all the working people, and I found this easily accounted for when I saw more of the arrangements made for their benefit.

Among other departments we were shown the hospital, small, but perfectly clean and airy, in which there were only three or four patients, and a school with a cheerful-looking young mistress surrounded by jolly-looking little children, who came forward unasked to display their acquirements in spelling. But what particularly pleased me was the large eating-house, or restaurant, where we found hundreds of workmen at their midday meal. They were not marshalled at long tables, but sitting in small groups round separate tables, every man choosing his own company, and calling for the dish which he preferred. Seeing these men, each with his napkin, enjoying his selected food, I could not help thinking that in the article of diet they are better off than a traveller in many parts of Europe, to say nothing of the population of the British Islands. I was assured that no profit whatever was made on this branch of the establishment. There was no pretence of philanthropy, but simply the intelligent view that as a mere matter of business it answered best that the working men should feel themselves to be well off. In point of fact, the mere threat to discharge a man from his employment is usually found to be sufficient to maintain order and industry.

There was little time available for botanizing here, and, the ground being all under cultivation, little of any interest to be found. On the way back I secured one of the beautiful reeds (Gynerium) which abound in tropical America. Herbarium specimens give little idea of a grass which, in moist situations, is from twenty to twenty-five feet in height, and whose flowering panicle is from four to five feet long.

On the following day, April 28, Mr. Nation again acted as my guide in a short walk about the outskirts of the city on the south and south-west sides. Nothing could be more uninviting than the appearance of the ground, which consists of volcanic sand, in most places completely bare of vegetation, but strewn with the refuse of the city, skeletons of cattle, and all sorts of rejectamenta, which make it the favourite resort of the black gallinazo (Cathartes atratas), the universal scavenger in this part of South America. The bird is deservedly protected by the population, which probably owes to its activity protection from pestilence. On the banks of some ditches and drains, and on some patches of waste land moistened by infiltration, we found several interesting plants. It was not evidence of the good character of the lower class in Lima to observe that on these occasions Mr. Nation carried a loaded revolver in his breast-pocket.

SUPPOSED ANCIENT BEACHES.

Amongst various items of information received from Mr. Nation, I was especially interested in the facts which he had observed in the neighbourhood of Lima regarding the disintegration of the exposed volcanic rocks. As he was kind enough to give me a written memorandum on the subject, along with specimens of the objects referred to, I think it better to give the substance in his own words.

“In one of the earlier editions of his ‘Principles of Geology,’ Sir Charles Lyell, on the authority of Mr. Cruikshank, speaks of the evidence afforded of a considerable rise of land in the neighbourhood of Lima by the appearance of the surface of hard green sandstone rocks hollowed out into precisely the forms which they assume between high and low water mark on the shores of the Pacific, while immediately below these water-worn lines are ancient beaches strewn with rounded blocks. One of these cliffs appears on the hill behind the Baños del Pingro, about seven hundred feet above the contiguous valley; another occurs at Amancaes, about two hundred feet above the sea;13 and others at intermediate elevations.” Mr. Nation remarks that, having seen these appearances soon after his arrival at Lima, continued observation during more than twenty-five years has satisfied him not only that the hollows spoken of in the surface of the rocks are larger than they were, but that many new ones have been formed during the interval. He is satisfied that the appearances, which, he admits, exactly resemble those caused by the sea on shore rocks, are due to subaërial action. The chief agent, in his opinion, is a cryptogamic plant growing on the surface of the rock. During a great part of the year, when dense fogs prevail at this elevation, the plant is in active vegetation. In the alternations of relative dryness and dampness of the air the cells swell and mechanically remove scales from the surface, which are seen to accumulate rapidly in the course of a single season.

Having submitted a specimen of the cryptogam in question to the eminent lichenologist, Mr. Crombie, I am informed that the plant belongs to the group of lowly organized lichens, now distinguished as the Ephebacei, but formerly referred to the Algæ. In the absence of fructification, Mr. Crombie is unable to decide whether the specimen should be referred to Sirosiphon or Spilonema; but he is sceptical as to the possibility of any direct chemical action upon the rock arising from the growth of the lichen. Some indirect action may, in his opinion, be due to retention of moisture on surfaces covered by the lichen. This opinion is strengthened when it is remembered that the rock is not affected by carbonic acid, which might be derived from the air, or by vegetable acids which might be formed by the decomposition of the lichen. I am disposed to think that vicissitudes of temperature play a great part in the disintegration of rock surfaces, and such action must be increased by alternations of moisture and dryness which must occur where, during a great part of the year, the hills are covered with fog in the morning and exposed to the sun in the afternoon.

DISINTEGRATION OF ROCKS.

In connection with this subject I may remark that, in countries where the rainfall is very slight or altogether deficient, we are apt to be misled by the appearance of the surface, and to much overrate the real amount of disintegration. In the drier parts of the Mediterranean region, especially in Egypt, as well as in Peru and Chili, we constantly see rocky slopes covered with fine débris which represent the accumulated work of many centuries, remaining in situ because there is no agency at work to remove it, while in countries where the slopes are frequently exposed to the action of running water fresh surfaces are subjected to the action of the atmosphere, and the comminuted materials are carried to a distance to form alluvial flats, to fill up lakes, or ultimately to reach the sea-coast. A somewhat similar remark may be made with regard to rock surfaces habitually covered with snow and very rarely exposed to heavy rain. I have often observed in the Alps and Pyrenees that, when the snow disappears during the short summer of the higher regions, we generally find the surface covered with small fragments of the underlying rock, not removed by the slow percolation of water during the melting of the snow. The same phenomenon long ago attracted the attention of Darwin during his short excursion across the passes of the Chilian Andes.

I regretted much that my very short stay at Lima left me no time to visit the places where these curious appearances may be observed; but I trust that they may engage the attention of some future traveller more competent than myself to thoroughly investigate them.

The morning of the 29th of April, my last day in Peru, was fully employed in needful preparations. As is usual in South America, I was troubled by the dilatory habits of the natives. The passport, which was promised in the morning, and without which, as I was told, I should not be allowed to depart, was not forthcoming until late in the afternoon; and at length I went, after bidding farewell to my travelling companions and to some new friends, by the four-o’clock train to Callao, too late to have any time for visiting the surroundings of that curious place. The Ayacucho steamer of the Pacific Steam Navigation Company had already left her moorings, and lay in the outer harbour. Having hurried on board rather after the hour named for departure, I found that my haste was quite superfluous, as we were not under way till long after dark, about nine p.m.

I quitted Lima full of the interest and enjoyment of my brief visit, but full also of the sense of depression necessarily caused by the condition of a country whose future prospects are so dark. The ruinous war, and the occupation of the best part of Peru by a foreign army, are far from being the heaviest of her misfortunes. It may even be that they afford the best chance for her recovery. The immediate prospect is that of a feeble military despotism, tempered by anarchy. It seems possible that amongst the classes hitherto wealthy, and now reduced to comparative want, men of a type superior to the ordinary political adventurer may come forward; some strong man, with resolute will and clear insight, may possibly arise, and re-establish order in the midst of a moral chaos; but of such a deliverance there is as yet no promise. Conversing with men of very different opinions, I was unable to hear of any man whose name inspired confidence. Some such feeling had existed with regard to the President Pardo, but when he was assassinated no serious attempt was made to detect and punish his murderers. The only opinion which appeared to obtain general assent was that the worst of the adventurers who have been the curse of Peru was the late dictator Pierola.

DARK FUTURE OF PERU.

One thing, at least, appears certain: if Peru is to be rescued from anarchy and corruption, it must be through the influence of a single will – by a virtual, if not a formal, autocracy. To believe that in such a condition of society as exists here progress can be accomplished by representative institutions seems to me as gross a superstition as the belief in the divine right of kings.

CHAPTER III

Voyage from Callao to Valparaiso – Arica – Tocopilla – Scenery of the moon – Caldera – Aspect of North Chili – British Pacific squadron – Coquimbo – Arrival at Valparaiso – Climate and vegetation of Central Chili – Railway journey to Santiago – Aspect of the city – Grand position of Santiago – Dr. Philippi – Excursion to Cerro St. Cristobal – Don B. Vicuña Mackenna – Remarkable trees – Excursion to the baths of Cauquenes – The first rains – Captive condors – Return to Santiago – Glorious sunset.

The voyage from Callao to Valparaiso was accomplished under conditions as favourable to the comfort and enjoyment of the passengers as that from Panama to Callao. The Ayacucho is a larger ship than the Islay, but built on a nearly similar plan, and except towards the end of the voyage, when we took on board a detachment of Chilian soldiers returning to Valparaiso, we had no inconvenience from overcrowding. I was very fully occupied in the endeavour to preserve and put away in good condition the rather large collections made during my stay in Peru. Notwithstanding the character of the climate, I found the usual difficulty felt at sea in getting my paper thoroughly dry, and for several days the work was unceasing. It had the effect of preventing my going ashore at two or three places which at the time appeared to me uninteresting, but which I afterwards regretted not to have visited.

RAILWAY TO BOLIVIA.

By daylight on the morning of April 30 we were off Tambo de Mora, a small place near the mouth of the river Canete, which, at some seasons, is said to bring down a large volume of water from the Cordillera. After a very short stay we went on to Pisco, a more considerable place, but unattractive as seen from the sea, surrounded by sandy barren flats. It is, however, of some commercial importance, being connected by railway with Yca, the chief town of this part of Peru; and we remained in the roads about three hours, pursuing our voyage in the evening.

Our course on May 1 lay rather far from land, this being the only day during the voyage on which we did not touch at one or more ports. Under ordinary circumstances all the coast steamers call at Mollendo, the terminus of the railway leading to Arequipa, and thence to the highlands of southern Peru and the frontier of Bolivia. Arequipa being at this time occupied by a Peruvian force, and communication with the interior being therefore irregular and difficult, Mollendo was touched only on alternate voyages of the Pacific steamers.

I was impressed by the case of a Bolivian family on board which seemed to involve great hardship. An elderly father, with the manners and bearing of an educated gentleman, had taken a numerous family, chiefly young girls, with several servants, to Europe, to visit Spanish relations, and was now on his way to return to La Paz. The choice lay for him between the direct land journey from Arica, involving a ride of some two hundred miles through a difficult country, partly almost a desert, and partly through the defiles of the Cordillera, or returning by another steamer to Mollendo, and thence making his way between the hostile Chilian and Peruvian forces to the shores of his native lake of Titicaca. There was, in the latter case, the additional difficulty that Mollendo is about the worst port on the western coast of America. It is, in fact, an open roadstead, and, although there is little wind, the swell from the Pacific often breaks with a heavy surf upon the shore, and serious accidents are not infrequent. As all seamen are agreed, the terminus of the railway should have been fixed at Quilca, about the same distance from Arequipa as Mollendo, and, as usual in Peru, the selection of the latter is attributed to a corrupt bargain.

Early on May 2 we cast anchor opposite Arica. There is nothing deserving to be called a harbour; but a projecting headland on the south side of the little town protects the roadstead from the southerly breeze and the swell, which was here scarcely perceptible. On landing, I hastened along the shore on the north side, where a fringe of low bushes and some patches of rusty green gave promise to the botanist, and broke the monotony of the incessant grey which is the uniform tint of the Pacific coast from Payta to Coquimbo. As at very many other places on the coast, the maps indicate a stream from the Cordillera falling into the sea at Arica, but the traveller searches in vain for running water, or even for a dry channel to show where the stream ought to run. Nevertheless, Arica, unlike the places farther south, does actually possess fresh water in some abundance. The water from the Cordillera filters through the sandy belt of low country near the coast, and there are springs or wells sufficing not only for the local demand, but also for the wants of Iquique, a much more considerable place more than eighty miles distant. The little steamer whose office it is to carry the weekly supply of water to the Iquique people was taking her cargo on board at the moment, and one was at a loss to imagine what would happen if any mischance should befall the steamer or the engine. It is certain that under the intelligent rule of the Incas, many places now parched were made habitable by aqueducts carrying water from the mountains, and there are probably many other places where water might be procured by boring; but the porous character of the superficial soil makes this an uncertain resource, and the general uniformity of all the deposits gives little prospect of Artesian wells.

WATER SUPPLY ON THE COAST.

Near to the town are a few meagre attempts at cultivation in the shape of vegetable gardens, surrounded by ditches, into which it seems that a little water comes by infiltration. A few grasses and other herbaceous plants, mostly common tropical weeds, were to be found here. Elsewhere, the ground was, as usual on the coast, merely sand, with here and there clumps of bushes about six or seven feet in height, chiefly Compositæ of the characteristic South American genera, Baccharis and Tessaria. A bush of Cæsalpinia Gilliesii, with only a few of its beautiful flowers left, the ornament of hot-houses in Europe, struck one as a strange apparition on this arid coast.

The position of Arica, connected as it is by railway with Tacna, the centre of a rich mineral district, possessing the best anchorage on this part of the Pacific coast, and a constant supply of good water, must some day make it a place of importance. The headland which commands it is crowned by a fort, on which the Peruvians had planted a good many guns, and its seizure by the Chilians was one of the first energetic blows struck during the war.

For some reason, not apparent, the great waves which flow inland after each considerable earthquake shock have been more destructive at Arica than at any other spot upon the coast. Three times the place has been utterly swept away, and one memorial survives in the shape of the hull of a large ship, lying fully a mile inland, seen by us a few miles north of the town as we approached in the morning. On each occasion the little town has been rebuilt close to the shore. Experience has not taught the people to build on the rising land, only a few hundred yards distant. Each man believes that the new house will last his time —Après moi le deluge, with a vengeance!

At Arica the coast-line, which from the promontory of Ajulla, about 6° north latitude, has kept a direction between south-east and south-south-east for a distance of about twelve hundred English miles, bends nearly due south, and maintains the same direction for nearly double that distance. It is in the tract lying between Arica and Copiapò that the conditions which produce the so-called rainless zone of the Pacific coast have had the maximum effect. In that space of about six hundred miles (farther than from Liverpool to Oporto) there is no inhabited place – with the possible exception of Pisagua – where drinkable water is to be had. Nowhere in the world is there such an extensive tract of coast so unfitted for the habitation of man. But this same region is rich in products that minister to human wants, and man has overcome the obstacles that seemed to render them inaccessible. Besides mines of copper, silver, and lead, the deposits of alkaline nitrates, whose extent has not yet been fathomed, richly reward the expenditure of labour and capital. One after another industrial establishments have arisen along the coast at places suitable for the embarkation of produce, and some of these have already attained the dimensions of small towns. The Ayacucho called at no less than nine of these places, and there are two or three others that are occasionally visited. At a few of them, as at Iquique, the water-supply is partially or altogether conveyed by sea, but most of them subsist by distillation from sea-water.

PORTS ON THE RAINLESS COAST.

As may well be supposed, there is little in these places to interest a stranger, and a description of one may serve for all. Some more or less extensive works, with one or several tall chimneys, are the most prominent feature. Near to each establishment are three or four clean-looking houses for managers and head agents, of whom the majority appear to be English. Grouped in narrow sandy lanes near at hand are the dwellings – mere sheds built of reeds – of the working people. In some of the more considerable places an iron church, in debased sham-Gothic style, has been procured from the United States, and has been set up in a central position, with the outline of a plaza in front of it, and several drinking-shops clustered near.