Argentina and Her People of To-day / An account of the customs, characteristics, amusements, history and advancement of the Argentinians, and the development and resources of their country

There is no doubt that the Argentinian is ambitious. We may laugh at some of his impractical ideas, or the seeming stupidity of some of the more ignorant ones, but the fact remains that each one is endeavouring to get ahead. The Porteño is aiming to make Buenos Aires the finest city in the world, the state governments vie with each other in prodigality, and the ranchman is trying to develop the very best breeds of stock on his estancia. They want the best modern appliances and luxuries, and even the ladies must have the very latest Parisian designed hats and gowns. The workmen join labour organizations and they are as free to strike as in any other country in the world; in every way they are breaking away from the old traditions and trying to enter into the spirit of the modern, be it for good or ill. The same trend is observable whether the person is the descendant of one of the old families, or is one of the recent importations from Spain or Italy. This modernizing spirit seems to be in the air and is as contagious as the most virulent form of fever or plague. All differences of social station fade away before this one vital force which pervades both Camp and city. It is almost as marked as in any part of the United States and cannot be overlooked by the most unobservant traveller.

A general wastefulness characterizes all classes, both urban and rural. In many cases this is probably due to ignorance. The very bountifulness of nature has no doubt accentuated a natural disinclination to attend to detail and small economies. If conservation would be studied much more profit could be realized by all. On the estancias this wastefulness is noted in the methods of taking care of the crops and vast herds of stock. In the city one will see it in the administration of municipal governments in the various departments. In private life one will discern it everywhere, and even the common labourer shows the same traits of improvidence and lack of thriftiness so characteristic of the German or French peasant, for example.

The railroads are wasteful oftentimes and are unprepared to handle the immense crops produced by a bountiful nature, so that thousands of tons of grain have been lost through sheer inability to get them to market, and the estanciero was unable to take care of his grain because he had no elevators or granaries to hold his crop. Thousands of cattle have been lost in a dry season because the owner trusted wholly to nature and had no food to keep them from starvation when the pasture failed. But then Argentina is not alone in these traits, and it is perhaps easier to find fault or give advice than to do the things ourselves if we were placed in the same position.

Like all Latin people, the Argentinian loves politics. The opera bouffe style of government, which can still be found in Central America, has disappeared, so that the melodramatic element no longer exists. With each year the people grow less inclined to indulge in revolution simply as a pastime. The risks of the revolutionists too are greater in a nation of nearly seven million people than formerly, when there were not one-fourth that number, and a country in which prosperity and education have made great strides. Furthermore, there is the feeling on the part of the Argentinians that their country is on its way to take its place as one of the great nations of the earth, and this idea has undoubtedly sobered them somewhat. There are, no doubt, many, even to-day, who enter politics with no other purpose than to enrich themselves. Their methods, however, are far more subtle than the revolutionists of old, and they hedge themselves about with an air of apparent honesty and patriotism that is difficult to penetrate. They have had good examples of genuine patriots in the not distant past, which has no doubt aided in clarifying the political atmosphere. It is in the question of government contracts where the test of honour comes. If the tales that are told are to be believed, then rich pickings often fall to officials. In some cases this has been done openly and yet caused little comment, because such a result seemed to be but natural and expected as a matter of course.

Argentina is a country that is purely pastoral and agricultural, for the proportion of those engaged in manufacturing is numerically very small. And yet one city contains nearly one-fifth of the total population. When you include the other cities, such as Rosario, Tucuman, Mendoza, etc., the proportion of city dwellers is still greater. The cities of Argentina have outgrown the rest of the country. With people of an excitable nature, such as the Latins are, it may bode serious trouble in the future. Strikes have become very common, and lawlessness in connection with them is very easy to stir up. Just before my visit the chief of police was killed in one of those disturbances. The method of the government in dealing with these exigencies is sensible but drastic. A state of siege and martial law is declared, and every suspicious character is deported as an undesirable. Following the killing of the chief of police, several hundred Italians and Spaniards were deported. It was only after several weeks of martial law that the ban was lifted and life moved along as before. Many of the Italians are, no doubt, anarchistic in their tendencies, and sometimes it might be wondered that disturbances are not more frequent and more general than they actually are. The police of the city usually show themselves competent to cope with the situation.

Notwithstanding the cosmopolitan character of the population, the republic is governed solely by the real Argentinians. No foreigner is permitted to sit in Congress or take any hand in the legislation of the country. The character of elections has undoubtedly progressed, but they are still far from being perfect or free from criticism. It is very easy to tell beforehand who will be elected by observing the forces and influences behind the various candidates. How it is accomplished might be difficult to explain, but it is done, and the man with the proper support will almost invariably win out in some way. Absolute freedom of expression is allowed the individual and press; one may listen to or read political addresses full of flowery eloquence and fire, or hear the most bitter denunciation, with no police interference whatever. The government does not worry itself about such trifles, which are merely abstract questions and do no one harm. The chances are that if the opponents of the government are allowed to work off their pent-up emotions in this way, their opposition on election day will not be very active. Hence they always treat the “not-ins” with a sort of good-natured forbearance that would be irritating to a North American.

There are perhaps fifty thousand or more persons in Argentina who might be classed as British. It would be difficult to find a community where a few of these Anglo-Saxons do not dwell. Of this number a large proportion are of Hibernian extraction. As a rule they may easily be spotted. In Buenos Aires and Rosario this colony remains entirely distinct and mingles very little in social relations with the natives. They are engaged in commerce and the other business enterprises. The Britisher is self-satisfied and the Argentinian would call him boorish, although he is welcomed, as is any one who will contribute to the development and material progress of the country. In the Camp it is sometimes different. There one will find former citizens of the British Isles who have almost forgotten their native tongue. Their children will speak Spanish in preference to English, and they have imbibed many of the characteristics of the Spaniards. If this British estanciero speaks English his conversation will be interspersed with Spanish phrases. The Camp seems to have a fascination for him, and he will prefer the blue and white banner of his adopted land to the British Jack. The rich land of Argentina, which can produce such abundant crops, has wielded a spell over him. This process of welding and consolidation has, in numerous instances, been at work for several generations.

The Englishman is a born sportsman. He loves horseflesh and all games, and has initiated the Argentinian into the mysteries of many. Football is now played all over the republic by thousands of the darker-hued Argentinians, side by side with the fair-haired Anglo-Saxon. Football has to all intents and purposes become the national game of Argentina. It is really astonishing what a hold this game has upon the people. The love of sport in the Camp has no doubt had an influence in leading to a closer understanding and better feeling between the two races in the rural districts; it has been a good influence and the result has been for the best interest of the nation. If the two races are to live side by side it is well for a good fellowship to exist between them.

The seal of Spain is upon everything that she has touched. The Spaniard has left his religion, language, and social creed all over the New World south of the Rio Grande, and his mark can be traced upon face, laws and landscape. Wherever he appeared the Spaniard has written his racial autograph in a hand that neither time nor political change has sufficed to efface. The Anglo-Saxon has never succeeded in accomplishing the same results except by colonization. One who is proficient can detect from what part the Spanish-American woman comes, for each national face has an individuality. The Mexicana, the Chilena, the Uruguayana and the Argentina all differ—and yet there is a kinship that can easily be traced. The olive-brown tint is there, but in different shades. The perfect morena (Spanish-Moorish) is a rarity, but it is as near perfection as complexion can be—so fine, so soft and so richly warmed. This type can frequently be found in the Argentina.

Outside of Buenos Aires the old conservatism concerning the position of women still prevails. It must be admitted that there is something attractive about their life. The big roomy windows, and the balconies which jut out over the street on each floor, and the women seem made for each other. The balconies were first designed for the wives and daughters of the Spaniards to look out upon the street, since they were not allowed to go out freely. I know of no sight prettier or more enchanting than to see these balconies filled with women and children on the occasion of a carnival or other festive occasion. Two, three or four tiers of balconies, one above another, will be crowded with women all in white, and it is a sight upon which to feast the eyes. Then a family group in one of the big windows, with the young ladies seated on the window itself, forms a picture that will linger in the memory.

The women of Argentina are the antithesis of English or American women in many ways. The masculine type is very rare, for the restrictions and customs rather accentuate the purely feminine traits. In youth they are beautiful and none can help but admire both face and figure. They can express in the flash of an eye what an English girl could not say in a quarter of an hour. In addition to the attractiveness granted her by nature the Argentina is an adept at all the arts of the toilet, and is generally familiar with rouge, the pencil and the powder puff; in these she is a connoisseur, and does not hesitate to apply her knowledge. In many the Spanish and Italian types have been moulded together and the beauty has probably been accentuated. As a rule her carriage is graceful, but her voice—that is the one disappointing quality. The voice is generally rather shrill, and, when excited, very unpleasant. Furthermore, they always speak in a monotonous, high-keyed, sing-song manner.

A lack of exercise and a love of big dinners and wines soon develops a stoutness that does not add to the beauty of the Argentine woman. One will seldom see a woman in any city walking if a conveyance can possibly be had, and it is certainly a good thing for the cabbie. It is at a late hour when they arise and they seldom don other than negligée before the middle of the afternoon. In later years they become very stout—one might cruelly say, fleshy. In Buenos Aires they are beginning to look upon a little more freedom as their birthright. One will see young women on the street or in the street car unaccompanied by the duenna or other companion, which would be unknown in Spain. Whereas they used to look upon English girls as fast, because of their freedom, now they are longing to adopt the same freedom of action, and it seems to be coming by degrees. The matron becomes very much domesticated and devotes herself unstintingly to her children and their welfare. In this way many of the youngsters are really spoiled. Their devotion to their children is, however, to be greatly admired, and a great affection seems to exist for the mother among all her children, both girls and boys.

“I should think that these mothers would get tired of black hair,” said an American woman to me in Buenos Aires. And then it dawned upon me with full force that all of these Latin-American children have black hair. It had not seemed to me as monotonous or tiresome before, for there is an individuality about each face, just as there is about that of children the world over. It is true that the hair of these children is almost uniformly of that hue, but I am very sure that the mothers find their children no less interesting because Carmencita, Juanita, Consuela, Maria, Juan, José, Santiago, Antonio and all their little brothers and sisters have hair of the same shade. These children of Latin-America are very numerous, for families are generally larger than they are in the United States. It is nothing unusual to see the mother or both parents get on board a train followed by six or eight children, all of whom are of tender ages.

The Spaniard has the reputation of being cruel. He is so to his horse or mule, he can view the cruelties of the bull-fight with enthusiasm, but his voice softens in speaking to a child. In fact the children are often petted and humoured too much, and the affection lavished upon them becomes a passion. And yet these bewitching little people are never unmindful of the simple courtesies of life. They learn the amenities of speech almost from the cradle. Ask some little fellow in Spanish America his name, and he will probably roll out a long name, such as Jesus Antonio Martinez y Alcorta, “at the service of God and yourself.” Pass some compliment on little Carmencita and see how quickly she will say, “It is a compliment you pay me,” or “mil gracias,” a thousand thanks. Offer her some little courtesy and she accepts “con mucho gusto,” with much pleasure, to which you should reply “the pleasure will be mine.” It is hardly safe to admire an ornament of a little mite of only eight or ten years. She will instantly remove it and offer it to you with the expression, “It is at the disposal of your worship.” The proper “disposal” is to refuse the gift in nice polite terms. It is really remarkable, and oftentimes touching, to observe these little courtesies in the niñas and muchachas. It even extends to their prayers, for here is the Spanish form of bed-time prayer:—

Most of these Argentine children are rather solemn-faced in the presence of strangers. They are not quite so free to make up with some one unknown to them as the average American child, and it is often rather difficult to coax a smile. One can even casually pinch a little cheek without provoking the smile so free with American children. It is not fear, for they do not seem afraid, but there is a certain shyness which is very noticeable. They will look up at you with their big, black eyes, but the smile which should accompany it is not forthcoming. Especially is this true of little girls, who thus early in life seem to realize the narrowness of their lives.

It has always seemed to me sad to contemplate a girl’s life in these Latin lands. No sooner has one crossed the Rio Grande into Mexico than the restrictions upon a woman’s freedom become evident, and these same customs extend clear to the “Land of Fire,” at the southernmost limits of South America. Not only are the little girls held in a species of bondage, but in later years they miss that care-free, happy period of American girls in their early “teens,” when every one considers it a privilege and pleasure to contribute to their enjoyment. They are hemmed about by servants and duennas during these years, and they then suddenly emerge into young womanhood, almost before one realizes that they are more than little girls. One year they are niñas (which means little girls), and a year or two later they are señoritas, or young ladies. They have almost skipped that delightful age of being “just girls,” which the Spaniards term muchachas.

If there is one feature about them that is especially beautiful it is the eyes. Large, dark and radiant orbs are almost universal, and especially is that true in childhood. They very early begin the use of powder and paste, and oftentimes of rouge and the black pencil. It is a shame, for youth does not need these artificial aids and the evil effects are seen in the complexions of those of maturer years. This beauty of youth is more evanescent than with American girls, and the girl of even twenty has oftentimes begun to fade, and at thirty she is decidedly matronly in appearance.

Love and religion are the only two things that a Spanish woman should concern herself about, according to the theory of that land, and the same sentiment permeates even the childish amusements. Love and lovers run through all the childish rhymes of the children of Spanish-America. But more frequently it is religion. To begin with, their very names all have some religious significance. Mary is a very common name, but to it is added one of the attributes of the Virgin, such as Mary of the Sorrows, Tears, Annunciation, etc. Thus smiling little Dolores (sorrows), Lagrimas (tears) and the other little Marys bear these sad names, but their smiles come just as easy as if their names signified joys. Saints are appealed to in many of their childish amusements. “Jesus” and “Mary Most Pure” are common forms of exclamation for the tiniest of tots, and their conversation is punctuated with these sacred terms in the most innocent way imaginable. They are used just as American tots would say “oh, my,” or “good gracious.”

CHAPTER X
THE PEOPLE AT PLAY

S-p-o-r-t is the word you will find at the head of the sporting columns of the Spanish, as well as English newspapers, in Argentina. This word has been transferred over bodily, as no term in Spanish exactly expressed the meaning of the English word sport. Baseball has not yet become popular and cricket is little understood by the Argentinians, but they are passionately fond of the turf, and horse racing is perhaps the favourite sport of all classes. It is not the excitement of the racing alone that appeals to the Argentinian, but the opportunity it gives for indulging in his love of betting. Argentina possesses some of the finest horse flesh in the world, and sales of favourites oftentimes take place at almost fabulous prices.

Sixty millions is a tidy little sum to be placed upon horses in one year. And yet that is the amount staked upon the races in the city of Buenos Aires last year, according to the municipal statistics of that city. Estimating the population at one million, two hundred thousand, this is an average of fifty Argentine dollars for each man, woman and child in that great city. Naturally the reported figures do not include all the money that is wagered on the horse racing, so that it is impossible to give the total amount of the bets, but it was undoubtedly several million dollars in addition to the above sum. Reducing the figures to American money, the wagers would represent twenty-five million, eight hundred thousand dollars in gold coin with the American eagle stamped on the back.

The race track of Buenos Aires, called the Hippodromo, is a monopoly of the Jockey Club in that city. This club is an exception to the general run of clubs in the world, for it has more money than it knows what to do with. The troublesome surplus in the bank is the only problem that bothers the board of directors, and it is bringing gray hairs to their devoted heads. A half million dollars (an Argentine dollar is worth forty-three cents) is devoted to charity each year, but that is only a small part of its income. Ten per cent. of the total amount of stakes on the races is the property of the club. This, together with the gate receipts and membership dues, gives the Jockey Club an enormous income, running up very close to eight figures. The several hundred members each pay dues amounting to fifteen hundred dollars annually, and the initiation fee is four thousand dollars. The membership is always full, and there is a long waiting list of eligibles. About a year ago a proposition was seriously discussed by the club to purchase a dozen blocks right in the heart of the city, construct a broad and beautiful boulevard through it and make a present of the improvement to the city. The estimated cost was in the neighbourhood of fourteen million dollars. When the proposition came to a vote it was lost by only five votes. It was defeated, too, not on account of the cost, but simply on the question of the advisability or practicability of such a scheme. The club had the money on hand, and they are now worrying themselves again as to what to do with it.

The home of the Jockey Club is a rather unpretentious-looking building on the narrow Calle Florida, in the very heart of the city. The interior, however, is magnificent. As one enters the massive doors, a marble staircase faces you, which is the boast of the members and the pride of Buenos Aires. Then there are dining-rooms, reception-rooms, parlours and all the other apartments required in such an establishment. All of these rooms are fitted and furnished regardless of cost, and with the artistic taste which is inherent with the Latin races, so that it will compare favourably with any palace in Europe. The banquet-room is fitted with a circular table, with a running fountain in the centre. This table is so made that it can be arranged to seat twenty people, or enlarged to accommodate a hundred, and still be a perfect circle. I had the pleasure of dining in the club with the American minister, and found that one will meet with representative Argentinians of all classes, for the membership is confined to them; but few foreigners, outside of the diplomats, are able to get their names on the membership books even as honorary members. A good introduction will sometimes give the visitor a chance to take his meals there and have a hand in the games, in which fortunes are oftentimes lost in a single night. The club possesses some exquisite works of art. They have followed the plan of purchasing one picture each year, but that picture must contain merit, for the price is no object. In this way they have collected some paintings and statuary that are worthy of places in any museum of art or palace in the world.

The Argentinians are natural born gamblers, and nothing suits them better than to take a chance on a lottery or on a horse race. The Hippodromo has one of the finest race courses in the world. There are three tracks, one within another. The outer one is three kilometers, or about one and three-fourths mile, in circumference. There are three grandstands, the central one being a magnificent structure, which is reserved for members of the Jockey Club and their invited guests. The gates are as fine specimens of brass gates as one can find of modern manufacture. The big races are all held on Sundays, or national holidays, from twelve o’clock to three. Then all of the society folk put on their best bib and tucker and pour out toward the Hippodromo. A perfect stream of luxurious automobiles and fine carriages with liveried drivers will carry the society out to the races. During the races these vehicles line up along the curb facing the middle of the street, for blocks, with mounted police mingling in the line at intervals.

Here is a typical flowery description by an Argentine reporter of a race at the Hippodromo: “It was a lavish spectacle of contentment, of spirits absorbed for the moment in the coming sport—regulars eager to try their palpitos, simple-minded folk who carried the ‘sure-thing’ safely tucked away in their pockets. Dreamers of fortune, these, lulled by the music of the trot. And out of the vague intonation of all this multitude there came, here and there, like a breath of fresh air, the glimpses fluttering, elegant, of luxurious carriages carrying radiantly dressed ladies, the luminous note of undulating ribbons and plumes standing out like a spring-like, feminine bouquet against the black mass of these absorbed in the sport.”

It is a study of Argentine life. They are not as noisy as an American crowd, but the tense faces express the keenest interest, for nearly every one, old and young, man or woman, has a personal interest in the outcome. There are none so old and few so young that they will not wage a few pesos on a favourite. Between the races the crowds leave the grandstand and wander around below or visit the betting booths, which cover a half-acre of ground. One booth will accept wagers of ten dollars, another of fifty and still others of one hundred dollars. The money is then apportioned after fixed rules. Ten per cent. is first deducted for charity, another ten per cent. for the Jockey Club and the balance is divided among the bettors. When the result has been figured up, the amount to be paid on the different horses is posted up on a black-board and the winners can draw their money. This board, it is needless to say, is eagerly scanned after each race.

More than one hundred races were given by this club last year, and they were attended by nearly three-quarters of a million of people. The big races were witnessed by a concourse of people which sometimes numbered fifty thousand. The average attendance of all the races is more than six thousand. The attendance and the money wagered is increasing rapidly each year. The statistics show an increase in the past ten years of more than three hundred per cent., and the amount of money wagered has increased still more rapidly. The Argentinians are prosperous now, and they spend their money more freely than the average American.

The Tiger—that is the meaning in English of El Tigre, the Thames of Argentina. It is situated a half-hour’s ride by train from the city of Buenos Aires, and is the favourite resort of all the lovers of water sports in that city. “Going to the Tigre” is the usual expression you will hear from the passenger at Retiro station on Saturday, Sunday or a holiday, and it may be said in Spanish, English, German or Italian. It is an inaccurate expression, for the name Tigre is properly applied only to one of the most insignificant branches of the network of streams which abound in that vicinity.

El Tigre is not an old resort. Thirty years ago the banks of the many little streams which wind in and out along the shore of the Rio de La Plata for several miles were almost bare of arboreal growth, just like the plains, or pampas, are for hundreds of miles. In fact it has only been within the past dozen years that Buenos Aires in all its cosmopolitan entirety “discovered” El Tigre. At the present time the banks are all fringed with a dense curtain of vegetation. The eucalyptus, poplar and willow alternate with each other, and closely-set peach and pear orchards are very numerous, for the Tigre fruits are large and delicious, and are in great demand in that republic. The transformation has been wonderful, and the average visitor would think that the growth was natural and not planted. This class of trees grows very rapidly when once planted by the hand of man, but nature herself slighted Argentina in the matter of trees.

As one sails in and out of the numerous canals new scenes of beauty continuously open up before his eyes. The broad canal from the railroad station is taken first, for this leads past the principal club houses. Imposing creeper-clad cottages are dotted along the bank on one side, and some of them are very beautiful. On the opposite side is the Tigre Hotel, with its many flowers and refreshment grounds. As the motor boat speeds along the regatta course the procession of passing craft is never-ending. There are launches, punts, skiffs and canoes filled with cosmopolitan parties of nearly all nationalities. Among these crowds the olive faces and graceful figures of the dark-eyed Argentinian señoritas may easily be distinguished from the blonde, ruddy-faced English girl, or the more buxom German type. The señoritas have learned to skull and manœuvre the rudder, as well as their fairer haired rivals for the affections of the youths who are fortunate to be the owners of some craft that will float on these seductive waters.

An excursion to the remote waters savours of the adventurous, for the uninitiated would soon lose his bearings. One will wind in and out of the maze of streams in continual wonder as to what the next bend will reveal. There are broad streets of water, lanes, narrow passages and even blind alleys. One might follow one course and emerge upon the broad La Plata, or he might wind in and out for hours, or even days, without once doubling on his track. Along these less frequented water ways the honeysuckle and swamp flowers bloom unaided, and the large crimson blossoms of the ceibo tree add a brilliant touch of colour. Native boats laden with willow or fruits will occasionally be met, for these watery lanes furnish the only outlet for the most of the islands to the railroad station. In fact it is a sort of rural Venice, in which the water furnishes the only means of communication. Occasionally a boat will disappear into a narrow opening that you have not noticed before, for it was so well shielded by the overhanging willows.

Many and beautiful boats will be seen upon the Tigre. There is the swift motor boat decked up high so that it can glide through the waters swiftly; again there is the broader build made for carrying a larger complement of passengers. Then there are yachts of all kinds as well as row-boats of every shape. The most of them are built in Europe, but an occasional one constructed in the United States may be singled out. There are a number of boat clubs. The oldest one was established by the English, but this has been absorbed by the Argentinians and a new one built by the British colony. This is said to be the largest rowing club in the world. The Germans have a club house, and even the Italians have built their own home. There are not enough Americans in that southern metropolis to own a club house, but some of that nationality belong to the English club, and own or have an interest in some of the gasoline-propelled launches.

The people love the good things of life. In the evening those who wish to dine in a becoming manner go to the Tigre Hotel. As the light begins to fade, here and there the launches dart in and out of the shadows to the landing-stage. The dining-room quickly becomes crowded with diners in outing flannels or evening dress. After a while the tables in the dining-room become filled to overflowing with a gay and happy crowd, and they spread out upon the terrace by the river side. If there is moonlight the effect is oftentimes almost fairy-like. Then the moon and the Southern Cross look down upon such a scene of beauty and vivacity as must make the Queen of the Night smile, and cause the stars to twinkle more brightly than usual. The rays of moonlight are intersected by the reflection of the lamps, while here and there a twinkling point that denotes a launch darts in and out of the shadows. Later the notes of the guitar and mandolin may be heard on the waters, as the happy crowd disperse to the cottages, and the youthful gallants remain yet a few minutes more by the home of the charmer and breathe in the fragrance of the magnolia blossoms upon the banks. At last at a later hour all becomes quiet, save for the silent splashing of the little waves upon the banks of the canals. Then the darting glow of the fireflies and the song of the mosquito is all that remains to indicate life on El Tigre.

“Come on in; the water is fine.”

It did not sound that way, for the words were in Spanish. It was in January, too, and the latitude about the same as that of Washington. There is this difference, however, that Mar del Plata is south of the “line.” While we are wearing heavy wraps, the people in that part of the world are enjoying warm weather. During January and February Buenos Aires is deserted by society and officials, just as are New York and Washington in July and August. Buenos Aires can only be compared to the two cities, for it is both capital and metropolis.

Argentina has but one seaside resort. This one place is the fashionable Newport, the merry-making Coney Island, and the cosmopolitan Atlantic City, all in one. It is the English Brighton and Blackpool united. The life at Mar del Plata is like none of its prototypes or its contemporaries.

Here is an enthusiastic description of Mar del Plata by a native writer: “All at Mar del Plata suggests the refinement of a bathing resort. The waves of the Atlantic beat softly upon the sandy beaches. The magnificent hotels are filled with a monde cultured and sociable, that fills the summer evenings with joy. The English cottages and the luxurious chateaux are dotted upon the slopes with all their graceful architecture and modern comfort. The days are balmy and the nights perfumed; the concerts, dances, strolls upon the ‘Rambla,’ the gracious life of the élite—all this enlivens the sport, and causes the summer months to pass by in an enchanting fashion. And, above all, the inevitable ‘flirtation’ is wont to insinuate itself in the midst of this delightful frame of mind, commencing with discreet love-makings in the romantic light of the moon, in improvised excursions, during which one may enjoy with a full pulse the beauty of nature, and ending in the interchange of marriage vows to the accompaniment of delicious blushes on the part of the maiden, and nervous agitation on that of the future Benedict.”

A few years ago a site on a beautiful little bay of the Atlantic, two hundred and fifty miles from Buenos Aires, was chosen by a few of the wealthy residents as a summer home. At that time the property could be purchased for almost a song, as there was nothing on the site except a little fishing village. These people built commodious homes, and it was not long until this small advance guard was followed by others, and the colony began to attract attention. In the last six years alone it has increased one thousand per cent., and to-day Mar del Plata is an attractive summer resort, with scores of palatial homes, several large hotels, asphalt streets and other improvements which follow population. There are a number of low hills that line the shore, which form a pretty break in the flat plains that lie all the way to Buenos Aires. The main portion of the town is built in one of the breaks in these hills, on the largest bay, and the palatial homes are on the slopes and summits facing the sea. There are some beautiful rocky formations around the bay, deep narrow cliffs through which the waters break with thunderous noise. The finest golf links in the republic are on one of the hills which overlooks the sea, and this is the favourite spot for the English visitors to this resort. There is also a beautiful drive which extends for several miles up and down the hills and near the shore along the yellow sands, past the picturesque rocks and ever looking out upon the blue waters of the ocean.

There is not the life about Mar del Plata that one finds at an American seaside resort. Spanish conservatism still prevails, although mixed bathing is permitted. This was introduced for the first time four years ago. The people have hardly accustomed themselves to the innovation yet, as one will only see the mixed groups in small family parties. As a rule the women and children go in together and the men keep by themselves. Furthermore, no one in bathing-costume will be seen strolling on the walk, or along the beach. The women come out of the bathroom with a cloak over the shoulder, and are generally joined by an attendant. He removes the cloak as soon as the water is reached, and it is hung on a line to await her return. The suits worn are generally skirtless, but with a coat reaching half way to the knees; and they never wear stockings. The attendant accompanies them out to where the surf is breaking, always keeping near the life line. There they play around for twenty or thirty minutes and then leave the water. The cloak is placed on their shoulders again, and they immediately disappear into the dressing-rooms. The authorities are very watchful of the bathers, for the undertow at times is very strong. Scattered along the beach one will at all times see men in bathing-costumes bearing coils of rope, who are ever on the alert. These bañeros have saved the life of many a venturesome bather.

The bathing is generally done in the morning, for at eleven o’clock the promenade begins. This takes place along the board walk, called the “Rambla,” which follows the line of the shore for a distance. This walk is open to the sea and covered with a roof, but on the shore side there are little curio stores, cafés, photograph galleries and moving picture shows. Many families also have little private bath houses along this walk; but that name is really a misnomer, for they are principally used to sit in and watch the promenade, as well as to entertain friends.

The promenade in Spanish countries is a great feature of social life. Because of the restrictive social customs there is little freedom in the life of women, and they therefore welcome this diversion. It also gives the señoritas a chance to exhibit their charms before the admiring young men, and very often leads to ardent love affairs. Every woman and girl who is able to get around will be on that walk just as sure as the men. And then for an hour or more the crowd will walk back and forth, until you think they would all tire themselves out. By one o’clock the promenaders have disappeared, and during the afternoon the walk is almost deserted. That is the time for the siesta, which is followed by a drive along the sea front. At six o’clock the promenade begins again, and is kept up for about two hours more, a repetition of the one at midday. Thus it is that life goes on day after day for three months every summer at this greatest resort in South America. This parade is a study in the life of Argentine society, for the real four hundred visit Mar del Plata. It is a place for dress and no one with a slender purse can afford to visit it, or, at least, stay any length of time. The costumers’ establishments of far away London and Paris, as well as Buenos Aires, have been ransacked for gowns to be worn at this resort.

With all the increase in hotel accommodation that has been provided in recent years, the hotels were full for weeks the past season, and it was almost impossible to secure accommodation unless one had friends, or arranged for it weeks ahead. The Hotel Bristol is the largest hotel in South America. There is a main building, which contains a spacious dining and ball room, and two annexes, each of which is as large as the average city block. The prices correspond with the magnificence of the furnishings. It is a night’s run from Buenos Aires, and a day train is run on Saturdays and Tuesdays, which makes the trip in about seven hours. The night that I went there were five trains, each carrying fourteen sleepers, and all of them were full. The traffic had been just as great for almost a month. The country is as flat as a barn floor, with thousands of cattle and sheep dotting the Camp as far as the eye could reach. Great, long-eared rabbits are so numerous that drives are often formed by the estancieros to get rid of them. Arrived at Mar del Plata, there was a close line of carriages almost a mile long waiting for “fares.” As soon as one carriage was filled another moved up and took its place. At these times the “cabbie” is the real monarch, for the Argentinians are very fond of carriages and seldom walk if a carriage is to be had.

The wealthy promoters of this resort are aiming to make it a sort of Monte Carlo. A new club has just been built, which is the largest and most imposing building in Mar del Plata. In this building three roulette tables and several games of trente et quarante were running in full blast, one roulette table being in a special room for ladies. The building was not quite finished at that time and only the gambling rooms were in use, they being much more necessary than the rest rooms or dining department. The most prominent men in the republic are members of this club. There had been a public casino, but the governor of the province had closed that. He could not reach this private club, however, without the aid of another official, who favoured the gambling. They were hoping in a few months to elect another governor who would not be so strait-laced about such an important thing as gambling. Large sums are oftentimes staked on the games at Mar del Plata, for the Argentinian is reckless enough to risk his last dollar under the excitement of the game.

Mar del Plata has become quite a fishing place and many of the inhabitants are engaged in that occupation. It is very interesting to watch the fishing boats when they come in from their excursions. First one, then two or three, and perhaps a dozen of these picturesque crafts will come around the point and head for the beach. Watching a favourable swell, one after another of the fishing smacks will head for the shore with all sail set. Awaiting them will be men with teams of horses, by means of which they are pulled up high and dry upon the sand to await the coming of morning, when they will again start out in their search for the ocean’s game.

CHAPTER XI
EDUCATION AND THE ARTS

“Found schools and you will do away with revolutions,” was the favourite expression of President Sarmiento. It was during this administration that education received its greatest impetus. Sarmiento, who has been called the “school-teacher president,” inaugurated a most liberal policy towards popular education. He was deeply interested in this problem, had made a study of the educational systems in the United States and caused the establishment of very many schools and public libraries. The provincial and municipal authorities of the republic were everywhere encouraged and urged to establish an efficient system of public instruction, and his efforts produced beneficial results. The later administrations, however, have been absorbed in other lines, and many of the progressive ideas of Sarmiento were allowed to pass into “innocuous desuetude.” There have been occasional spurts of energy, but these have been far too spasmodic.

The subject of education arouses less interest than it should with the people in general. This lack of public interest is perhaps accountable in a great measure for the indifference of the provincial and national administrations. Here is a criticism of Mr. Akers, the historian, of the educational system in Argentina. “A smattering of many subjects is taught, a sound knowledge of any one is the exception. It is not that the pupils are deficient in intelligence, but rather that teachers are lacking in experience and ability. Nor can any other result be expected under existing circumstances. The payment of officials is inadequate, and frequently salaries are months in arrears, while lack of discipline in primary, secondary and higher education is conspicuous. Provisions for the orderly exercise of authority in colleges and schools are also most defective.” This criticism was written in 1903, but it is applicable to-day, except that the payment of the teachers is somewhat higher and a little more regular. The teaching profession is still greatly underpaid, as the money is turned into other channels which are more purely political. It is simply another example of that utilitarian policy of looking only to the present and letting the future generations take care of themselves.

Public instruction in Argentina is divided into three classes—primary, secondary and higher education. Primary education is compulsory by law, though seldom enforced, and is given free to all children in the republic between the ages of six and fourteen. Education in the capital and territories is under the control of the Federal Government, and there are in all five thousand, two hundred and fifty public schools for primary instruction maintained by it. Each of the provinces maintains large numbers of these schools for elementary instruction also, and in addition each city contains a number of private schools to which people of means send their children rather than to the public institutions. All of the schools having the support of the Federal Government are under the supervision of the National Council of Education, which is housed in a beautiful building in the city of Buenos Aires. Secondary education is not compulsory, but it is practically free, as only a very small fee is charged for registration. There are sixteen lyceums and thirty-five normal schools which come under this class, and they are located in all the larger cities of the nation. The national universities of Buenos Aires and Cordoba are both noted institutions, and these, together with the provincial universities at La Plata, Santa Fé and Paraná, provide the higher education. In addition to this the various provincial governments send a number of students abroad each year to complete their studies at the noted universities of Europe and North America. At the present time there are about thirty of these students at the various universities and colleges of the United States, and others are pursuing their studies in England, France, Germany and Italy.