CHOICE OF A ROUTE TO THE ANDES.
On landing in Peru, the one question which completely engrossed my mind was whether or not it would be possible for me, in the present state of the country, to reach the upper region of the Andes.
To a naturalist this great chain must ever be the dominant feature of the South American continent. To its structure and its flora and fauna are attached questions of overwhelming importance to the past history of our planet, and, however little a man may hope to effect during a flying visit, the desire to gain that degree of acquaintance which actual observation alone can give becomes painfully intense. I was aware that what had formerly been a long and rather laborious journey had of late years been reduced to a mere excursion by the construction of two lines of railway, leading from the sea-coast to the upper region. That which, if free to choose, I should have preferred starts from the coast at Mollendo, and, passing the important town of Arequipa, traverses the crest of the Cordillera, and has its terminus at Puno, on the Lake of Titicaca, in the centre of the plateau which lies between the two main ridges of the Andes. The region surrounding this great lake, which here divides Peru from Bolivia, must offer objects of interest only too numerous and too engrossing for a traveller whose time is counted by days. Although the level of the lake is some 12,800 feet above the sea, the peaks of Sorata rise above its eastern shores to a further height of nearly 10,000 feet; and lake steamers give access to most of the inhabited places on its shores – no slight matter when it is remembered that the lake measures more than a hundred miles in length.
The second line, which, starting from the city of Lima, is carried nearly due east along the valley of the Rimac, was designed to open communication by the most direct route between the capital and the fertile region on the eastern slopes of the Andes – called in Peru the Montaña– as well as with the rich silver region of Cerro de Pasco. The crest of the Cordillera, or western ridge of the Andes, is scarcely eighty miles from Lima in a direct line, but the most practicable pass is somewhat higher than the summit of Mont Blanc. The road was to pierce the pass by a tunnel 15,645 feet above the sea-level, and thence to descend to the town of Oroya on the high plateau that divides the two main ridges. As the line was laid out, the distance from Lima to the summit-level was only 97 miles, and that to Oroya 129 miles.
Considered merely as engineering works, these lines, which owe their existence to the enterprise of an American contractor and the skill of the engineers who carried out the undertaking, may fairly be counted among the wonders of the world. The Oroya line, the more difficult of the two, unfortunately remained unfinished. Although the loans contracted in Europe by the Peruvian Government more than sufficed to defray the cost of all the industrial undertakings that they were professedly intended to supply, it is scarcely necessary to say that a large portion disappeared through underground channels, leaving legitimate demands unprovided for. The stipulated instalments due to Mr. Meiggs, the great contractor, remained unpaid, and, in the midst of the difficulties in which he was thus involved, his death put a final stoppage to the works. The line had been completed and opened for a distance of about eighty miles from Lima, as far as the village of Chicla, 12,220 feet above the sea. From that time forward Mr. Meiggs devoted his energies to the boring of the tunnel at the summit, probably under the impression that if that were once finished the Peruvian Government could scarcely fail to provide the funds necessary to complete the line on either side.
UNFINISHED ANDEAN RAILWAY.
I had found it impossible to ascertain before leaving England what had been the fate of these magnificent works since the ravages of war had devastated the region through which they are carried. Various quite inconsistent stories had reached me through the passengers from Panama, Guayaquil, and Payta. Traffic, said some, continued on both lines just as before the war; traffic, said others, had been completely stopped by order of the Chilian authorities; others, finally, asserted that the Oroya line had been so damaged by either belligerent as to be rendered permanently useless.
Before I had been many hours on shore, I was able to get authentic information which relieved my mind from further anxiety. The southern line, from Mollendo to Puno, was open; but Arequipa, the chief place on the way, was still in possession of the Peruvians, who occupied it in some force. With permits, to be obtained from the commanding officers on both sides, it might be possible to go and return, supposing no fresh outbreak of hostile movements of the troops on either side. The news as to the Oroya line was even more satisfactory. The whole line was occupied by the Chilian forces, there being a detachment at Chicla, with outposts on the farther side of the pass. The line had been for some time closed to traffic, but had been re-opened a few days before our arrival. With a permit, to be obtained from the chief of the staff in Lima, there would be no difficulty in proceeding to Chicla.
My decision was speedily taken. Under the most favourable circumstances, the time necessary to reach Puno and return to the coast, with the not improbable risk of detention, was more than I could afford. Further than this, as Puno lies on the plateau remote from the mountains, I should see but little of the characteristic flora of the Andes, unless I could reach some place on the eastern shore of the Lake of Titicaca, whence access could be had to the flanks of the Sorata Andes.
Some description of the Lake of Titicaca which I had read as a boy still dwelt in my mind, and the memoirs and conversation of the late Mr. Pentland had long made the peaks of Sorata objects of especial interest to me. There could, however, be no doubt that the faint hope of beholding them which had lingered till then must be renounced, and I was too happy at the prospect of achieving a short visit to the more accessible part of the chain to have leisure for any keen regret.
DON PATRICIO LYNCH.
Having ascertained that the trains to Chicla departed only every second day, returning thence on the alternate days, I arranged to start on the 20th. During the two intermediate days, I had the opportunity of making several agreeable acquaintances. Sir Spencer St. John, the English minister, had lately returned to Europe, and the legation was temporarily under the charge of Mr. J. R. Graham, who had recently acted as chargé d’affaires in Guatemala. Among other kind attentions which I have to acknowledge, Mr. Graham was good enough to introduce me to Don Patricio Lynch, commander-in-chief of the Chilian forces in Peru.
The object of boundless admiration from his own followers, and of still more unmeasured denunciation from his enemies, General Lynch is undoubtedly the most remarkable man who has come to the front during the late unhappy war in South America. Like most of the men who have acquired military renown in that part of the world, he is of Irish extraction, his grandfather having settled in Chili early in the present century. Having served as a young man for a time in the English navy, he was promoted by the Chilian Government, some time after the outbreak of the war, to a naval command. The operations at sea had, up to that time, been on the whole unfavourable to Chili, and the successes which finally changed the aspect of the war by sea were largely ascribed to the energy and ability of Admiral Lynch. Passing from the sea to the land, he so much distinguished himself in various daring encounters with the enemy that he was finally promoted to the chief command of the Chilian forces in Peru, and at this time was virtually dictator, with absolute rule over the whole coast region occupied by the Chilian army.
However open to discussion might be the policy adopted by the Chilians towards the conquered country, there was a general agreement as to one matter of no slight importance. The population of Lima and the surrounding districts is composed of the most varied constituents – native Indian, negro, and the mongrel offspring of the intermixture of these with European blood, to all which of late years has been added a large contingent of Chinese immigrants. It is not surprising that, under inefficient administration, there should have arisen from the dregs of such a population a large class either actually living by crime or ready to resort to outrage as favourable opportunities might arise. On the other hand, the Chilian army, for which there was but a small nucleus of regular troops, had to be largely recruited from among the loose fish of the floating population of South America, and naturally included no small number of bad subjects, ready to make the utmost use of the license of war. For many years past the police of Lima was notoriously inefficient; robberies were frequent, and