Read Ebook: The Scandinavian Element in the United States University of Illinois Studies in the Social Sciences Vol. 111 No. 3 September 1914 by Babcock Kendric Charles

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They sat down almost under the shadow of the high statue of San Mart?n and the Colonel reverently uncovered his head. Without being told, Francisco took off his cap, and his uncle patted him affectionately on the back. "Good, good, my boy! He deserves it, for no greater soldier ever fought; but we will have to go back several centuries to get the run of things," and as he leaned back he paused and puffed thin clouds of smoke from his cigarette.

"You see, when Buenos Aires was really founded, it was in 1580, sixty-four years after the River Plate was discovered by Solis, who called it the River of Silver, because he believed silver could be found on its banks. They called the city 'Good Airs,' because of the fresh, invigorating quality of the air that blew over from the vast prairies. This first settlement grew, and others farther into the interior sprang from it; all of them Spanish settlements; and in 1661 the King of Spain recognized them as a colony and appointed a governor. Thus it continued until in 1806, when England was at war with Spain, and they sent Lord Beresford, with several thousand men, down to this colony to take possession of it.

"Buenos Aires then, as now, was the key to the entire country, and as it had but forty thousand inhabitants, and was without any military defence, he took it without trouble. But the Spaniards, at last, overcame him; and he was obliged to give up his prize and leave. England then sent another army, but this time the natives were prepared, and their victory was complete. General Whitelock, in command, capitulated, and his flag, the flag of the famous Seventy-First Regiment of the British army, hangs in the Cathedral over yonder, where you see the double spires beyond the house-tops. We are justly proud of that flag, for that Seventy-First Regiment is the one that caused Napoleon no end of trouble in Egypt.

"After this victory our people began to feel the stirrings of independence from Spain itself, and a spirit of revolution took hold of the officials and people. At last, an open revolt took place in the Plaza Mayo, on the twenty-fifth day of May, 1810, and under the leadership of splendid men--patriots all of them--our independence was declared.

"Oh! Belgrano! I know about him, Uncle. His tomb is in the little square in front of the church in Calle Defensa, and it was he who originated our flag. He said the long blue bars were to represent our faithfulness, as true as the beautiful blue of our skies; and the white bar was to symbolize our honour, spotless and fair."

"Yes. Well, he went first to Paraguay; but the Spaniards had so intermarried with the Paraguayan Indians, whom they had found in that wild country, that they did not respond to the stirring appeal of General Belgrano. He, however, succeeded in some of the northern provinces, and thus encouraged, they organized a small navy. Do you know who was our first admiral? No? Well, it was an Englishman and his name was William Brown.

"With this navy, Montivideo, the capital of Uruguay, was taken. Enthusiasm ran high, and it was just here that Don Jos? de San Mart?n came into the light of publicity, as commander-in-chief of the army. Now let us take the automobile, awaiting us over in front of the house, and ride to the Cathedral where the remains of our hero rest, and I will tell you more about him there."

They rode along the clean streets, the fresh morning air blowing straight into their faces, the curious, sing-song cries of the street venders following them as they sped along Calle Florida.

"Uncle Juan, why is it that most of these street peddlers are Italians? See, there goes an onion-man with his long strings of onions, their stalks knit together into yard lengths; there is a vegetable cart; there is a vender of fruit, and all of them speaking broken Spanish with an Italian accent."

"Yes, Ni?o, most of the peddlers are Italian. I do not know why, unless it is that each nationality turns to a special kind of work in this world. The Italians are naturally merchants, they like to bargain. They are also very fine mechanics. Did you ever notice that our plasterers, or masons, who plaster the outside and inside of all our houses, speak Italian?"

"And that group of men on the corner, see, Uncle, they are all dressed alike, and must be of the same nationality; what are they?"

"Those"--indicating half a dozen men wearing full trousers held up by red sashes, adorned with dozens of coins, their heads covered with round full caps also red. "Those are Basques or Vascongados. There are many here, and they come from a small piece of country to the west end of the Pyrenees, in Spain, bordering the Bay of Biscay. Like the Italians, they, too, follow the work best suited to them, and they are mostly porters, because of their physical strength and powers of endurance.

"I have noticed, too, that the majority of our milk men are Basques, and I account for that because in their native home they are a pastoral people and such pursuits attract them. Listen as we pass: their language is unintelligible to us although they come from Spain. It is unlike any other European language."

They were now entering the great square called Plaza Mayo. It is the heart of the city, although it is not in the centre. It covers about ten acres, and is two blocks back from the muddy La Plata River; and scores of masts and smoke-belching funnels of great ocean vessels can be seen from its benches.

"That is our Government House. That much I know," said Francisco, pointing to the rose-tinted building, modelled after the Tuileries, and facing the plaza. From its rear to the river intervened grass plots and groves of sturdy palmettoes.

"Yes, that is where our Senate convenes and where all the business of the Republic is done. The President has his offices there, and all the public receptions are held there. You see, our government does not provide a home for our President; that, he must look after himself. Why, we are just in time to see His Excellency now."

"Do you know him, Uncle Juan?" asked Francisco, with awe in his voice.

"Se?or Alcorta, El Presidente, is a warm friend of mine," replied the Colonel, and as he said it he grew fully half a foot in his nephew's estimation.

"A warm friend? Do tell me about him."

"Another time, Ni?o, we must hasten to yonder Cathedral; but he is a good man and a good President."

They turned towards the enormous building, shaped like the Pantheon with its blue tile-covered cupola, and its long portico supported by huge Corinthian columns.

It was built by the Jesuits in the seventeenth century and hundreds of Indians were employed by these pioneer fathers, in its construction. Like all houses in Buenos Aires, it is of masonry untinted except by years. With the Bishop's palace next to it, it covers an acre of ground.

Francisco and his uncle entered it and crossing themselves, knelt on the bare stone floor, for like most Argentines, they were Catholics, and this was their greatest cathedral. After a few minutes spent in devotion, the Colonel led the way to one of the naves, where the tomb of the great liberator, San Mart?n, stands, a huge sarcophagus upon a high pedestal of marble. The Colonel stood in meditation a moment, then drew the boy beside him on a bench. In a low voice he said:

"With his army of five thousand men, and in the face of public derision, for the undertaking seemed impossible, he crossed the rugged Cordilleras in twenty-five days; met the Spanish general in charge of Chile and defeated him. He was thus the liberator of the Chilean people, for that battle on the twelfth of February, 1817, gave them their independence from Spain. In Santiago, Chile, there is a statue to General San Mart?n, and one to the city of Buenos Aires. After his wonderful achievement in crushing the power of Spain, in Argentina, Chile and Per?, he retired to private life, refusing to serve in any civil capacity.

"Some time you will read in history of his twenty years of despotism. It was during this reign that my father, your maternal grandfather, lost his life in the blockade of Argentine ports, by French and English forces. Rosas was at last overthrown by General Urquiza, who organized the government upon its first solid basis, with a constitution modelled closely after that of the United States of North America. Since then, although we have had a few revolutions and several financial crises, we have maintained our freedom; and our wonderful natural resources and our rapid commercial development are giving us a stable place in the world's congress of nations."

Francisco listened attentively, and when his uncle concluded, followed him out a side entrance into the street, like one in a dream. They stepped into the Calle Bartolom? Mitre, which seemed congested with a torrent of vehicles pouring down its narrow channel like a noisy stream and discharging itself into the great Plaza in front of the Cathedral.

"What if San Mart?n could see this now?" ventured Francisco, still under the spell of the hero's achievements. "Wouldn't he open his eyes?"

"Not exactly, but I would like to see Elena, and find out how she is to-day."

"Why, bless my heart! I had forgotten the sick sister. We will go past thy mother's house and if the little rose is well enough this afternoon, we shall include her in our ride in the city."

FOOTNOTES:

CURIOUS SIGHTS

ELENA was propped up with pillows in a deep chair by the window which opened out upon the street. She looked lonely, but when she saw the car sweep along the street and stop at their door, her face beamed happily. There was no jealousy in Elena's heart because her brother was being thus favoured by their uncle.

"Oh, Elena, mia," cried Francisco, throwing his arms about her, and kissing her on each pale cheek. "Do you feel able to take a ride with us this afternoon?"

"I think she is," answered his mother, entering the room, and taking her son into a close embrace. "But how I have missed my Ni?o, Juan," turning to her brother, the Colonel.

"Perhaps I have been selfish in taking him from you, Anita. Shall I leave him here?"

"Ah, no! The lad needs you, Juan. He has no father to teach him as he should be taught. It is the very opportunity for him; and I am most pleased. Only, let me see him often, and I shall be content."

True to their promise, at five o'clock the automobile drew up in front of Francisco's home and the Colonel, himself, carried Elena out to it, and placed her in the nest of pillows on the broad leather seat. Her mother followed and before Elena realized it, they were speeding toward the central part of the city.

"Where does the little White Rose wish to go?" inquired her uncle.

"Oh, anywhere--away from this horrid street. I am so tired of it. If I may, I should love to see the water."

"To the river, Enrique," laughingly ordered her uncle. "Only, the river isn't a very pretty sheet of water. It is so murky, and I think should be called the River of Bronze rather than the River of Silver."

"I know, Uncle Juan; but when I had the fever it was water, water, water I dreamt of, and now I want to see my fill of it."

"That you shall, White Rose, for right here at Buenos Aires the river is over twenty-five miles wide and the city has a frontage of four miles along the waterfront."

They passed through the Plaza Mayo, and Francisco had to tell Elena of having seen el Presidente that morning. Then they turned into the Paseo-de-Julio, a one-sided boulevard facing the river two blocks away. The intervening space was a maze of small plazas where palms, flowers, shrubs and statuary edge the waterfront like a band of solid green. Beyond, before Elena could see the water, were the busy docks, huge masonry basins, where over two thousand ocean-going vessels come and go during the span of a year.

Electric cranes were swinging the great cargoes of wheat and cattle into the yawning holds of the vessels, and on and on the sea of funnels and masts stretched until the muddy line of water at last broke on the sight. Francisco was alert, his brown eyes taking in every detail of the stirring busy scene; but Elena's hungry eyes looked past this to the water beyond.

"Some day, I hope to go away in one of those big vessels," she announced.

"Indeed, and which one will you choose, little White Rose? Here is a wide choice. That large one with the enormous smokestacks and the British flag flying above her, is a Royal Mail Steam-ship from England. One of these leaves every Friday for England, and besides the mail, carries about fifteen hundred passengers. On one of them you would travel in great luxury; electric fans, electric elevators, an orchestra with dances every evening, and dressing for dinner at night. Oh! it's gay enough, the life on those magnificent steamers!

"Then, alongside of it you see a smaller boat, a French liner from Marseilles. They go weekly also, and they bring us our champagne and our opera companies; why, this very automobile came on one of them. There's an Italian liner and just beyond are some German boats. In the South Dock is a river boat that goes up country to Paraguay; our oranges come on those. And all about are smaller boats, some sailing vessels that carry coffee from Brazil, and yellow pine from New Orleans in the United States."

"Why, that one just over yonder flies the Stars and Stripes of North America," cried Francisco, pointing to a small vessel.

"Do they not send anything at all down here, but yellow pine, Uncle?" this from Francisco.

"Yes, oh! yes. They are sending us machinery, especially agricultural machinery. When you go with me to the country you will see their wind-mills, steam threshers and binders in great quantities. They send us other machinery, of many kinds, but in comparison with our trade with Germany and England it is very little."

"And do these big ships go back empty to Europe?" inquired Elena, pointing to the long wharves.

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