News from a Happy Land
By Edward Young Haslam
Published in The Southern Cross on April 13th, 1876.

Paraná, April 1, 1876

E. Y. Haslam (1808-1878)

Oh, the immense relief of turning one’s back upon Buenos Ayres and its daily miseries, to come amongst a people who know nothing, and care as little, about Indian invasions, ‘cedulas’ at 52, and Argentine bonds at 58. For them bankruptcies and brokers, bulls and bears, have scarce a meaning; and they listen to the calamitous tales of us denizens of the Babylon of the republic with hardly enough of interest to raise an eyebrow – just as if we were talking about Hong Kong of the Fijis. Happy race! The dull security of whose tranquil life is undisturbed by the prophetic warnings of the daily press that the republic is hurrying on to the edge of a precipice, down which it is doomed to fall (but which providentially retreats as fast as it is approached). Yes, it is something to exchange the anxious, haggard features of frequenters of the Bolsa for the unwrinkled face of nature, glowing in all the beauty of luxuriant foliage and verdant pastures meandered through by a silvery river and dotted over with sleek cattle; and instead of the stifling atmosphere of offices and counting-houses, to drink in the pure breezes scented with the odor of orange-trees and fragrant shrubs and flowers.

Probably there are many of your readers who know nothing of Paraná but as the name of a river. Let me try to describe this little city, once proud to be called the capital of the republic. But unfortunately I am but a poor hand at description, which needs, to give it effect, the painter’s eye and the poet’s pen. Being neither poet nor painter, I must take a leaf out of the book of these great masters of the descriptive art, Messrs Bullrich and Billinghurst, when they want to set off some charming Quinta or desirable ‘lotes’ to the best advantage. But I doubt if even the artistic powers of those poetic gentlemen of the hammer could do full justice to the beauties of Paraná and its surroundings.

Perhaps the best way is to follow the children’s role when they tell stories, and “begin at the beginning”, omitting as many “and sos” and “so thens” as possible. Some ten days ago I started from the Central Station in a train for the Tigre. It was in the midst of a storm of wind and rain, symbolic of and quite in keeping with the commotion, financial and political, I was leaving behind me. The weather cleared as we retreated from the city, and the rain had nearly ceased as we left the railway station at the Tigre and went on board the steamer that was to take us up the river. That excellent specimen of the “fine old English gentleman”, Captain Bruce, was there to give us a welcome and to confide us to the care of his smart captain and courteous ‘comisario’, Having no traveling companion, I was favored with a snug little state-room to myself; and, aided by a well-spread table, attentive stewards, pleasant and not too numerous a company of passengers, and charming weather, I realized the difficult attainment of “locomotion made easy,” and even luxurious.

After emerging upon the broad expanse of the Paraná there is nothing of particular interest on either bank of the river, and the various places at which we called are too well known to need description. I observed that we reached Campana in about four hours after leaving the Tigre, and I therefore conclude that if the railway be well served travllers up and down the river will save the four hours in their journeys, and as “time is money” the economy both to passengers and on goods will be a decided public advantage. The steamer reached Rosario on the morning of the second day; and here a delay of four hours takes place, far longer than is necessary for the exchange of passengers and mails, but to prevent the arrival at its ultimate destination, Santa Fé, at an inconveniently late hour at night or early hour in the morning.

On the morning after leaving Rosario the passengers for Paraná were astir at dawn of day, and on going on deck the scene was strikingly beautiful. The ‘barranca’ on the right bank rises to a height of one hundred feet, crowned with copse-wood, whilst the bluff itself, which looks as if it had been cut down by human labor to make a channel for the river, shows tier above tier its geological formation with marked distinctness. A clerical gentlemen, and a man of science, whose acquaintance I had formed on board, came opportunely on deck, and explained to me that the nature of the various strata as they were exhibited in the ‘barranca,’ close to which we were riding, just as if it had been a model prepared for the use of some lecturer on geology.

Here is Paraná. A small bay formed by the sinuosity of the river, the ‘barranca’ towering above, a broad macadamized road beneath, raised and supported by a long massive stone wall, with a short projecting landing-stage, on which are assembled some well-dressed people, waiting for their friends, and a number of peons in that gaucho’s dress now so seldom seen in Buenos Ayres. The mounted gaucho, in full dress and will all the horse’s trappings, may also be seen in this place, and truly he is a “swell” of great magnitude. But marvel of marvels! Here is a tram-car, waiting for passengers to the city, which is some distance off- a neat car, well-horsed, and with a smart guard with a brass plate in front of his cap. We have just time to look round. There are not many craft in the bay.; a large North American schooner loading with bo … , and a dapper little steamer (English, of course) which plies between this port and Santa Fé, are the most noticeable. The buildings near the landing-place are not numerous, the ‘capitanía’ and a café being the principal; but a little further on a small village is discernible, called the Port of Paraná. Here is the custom-house, a building of some antiquity in appearance, and which ought to be “improved” by being pulled down and rebuilt closer to the river. The horn blows, and we are off. But how are we to mount that steep hill? We make a sweep to the right, and by a gradual ascent cut the ‘barranca’ about half-way up, and so gradually wind round it. The scenery along this part of the line is charming – romantic, in fact, with the river far below and a copse above. Now we come out upon the main road, the only one between the port and the city till the tramway was built, and which from its steepness must be well-night inaccessible for vehicles; and at the top of the hill we descry the newly-completed tower of the church of San Miguel. This church is said to have been forty years in building, and is not yet roofed in. Owing to wars and commotions, it remained thirty-six years stationary after the foundations were laid; but during the last three years the building has been advancing with more or less of speed, according to the fluctuation in the supplies, but now that the masonry is completed there is reasonable hope that the church will soon be finished.

When I mention that there is but one church, and that not a large one, for a place containing twelve or fourteen thousand souls, it will be seen that another place of worship is very desirable. Having passed San Miguel’s on the crown of the hill, the tramroad descends and then mounts a long, steep street, lined with houses good, bad, and indifferent, till at the top we swing round a corner and find ourselves in the plaza of Paraná.

In making our short journey of little more than two miles we have climbed up an ascent of nearly 180 feet, for that is about the height of the plaza from the level of the river. The tramroad is in fact a small railway, and has been more difficult and expensive in construction than the generality of even such works. This invaluable convenience to the inhabitants, together with the building of the mole and the broad road upon it, to accomplish which a portion of the “barranca” had to be removed, is due to the enterprise, talens, and perseverance of one man. The work occupied between three and four years, and employed hundreds of hands. We need hardly add that the originator is not an Argentine, but one who, though not English, is a naturalized subject of Queen Victoria. So much, then, for the honor of our native land. Into what corner of the earth can we go and not meet with some movement of the labor, skill and enterprise of a Celt, an Anglo-Saxon or a Scot?

In another letter (if you will permit its insertion) I will give you some account of the inhabitants, buildings, and institutions of this beautiful little city. Meanwhile believe me, yours obediently,

Y. (Edward Young Haslam)