CHAPTER XHOW THE MONEY GOES
Buenos Ayres has somehow achieved the reputation of being “the most expensive city in the world.” But this is not, strictly, correct; for, in my experience, Rio de Janeiro can give it some points and a beating in this respect, and even its near neighbour, Montevideo, on the northern shore of the River Plate, is, in a way presently to be explained, more expensive. To the stranger, however, it is always difficult to understand or account for the wide differences between the living expenses in the principal South American cities, and Buenos Ayres and Montevideo offer a good illustration of this. In the former, “old River Platers” and natives alike will tell you that the cost of living is higher in Montevideo, and this has been confirmed to me on many occasions by visitors to the latter city. But when living for some five months in Montevideo, and finding all the commodities of life more costly than in Buenos Ayres, it seemed odd to be told by natives that so long as they could get profitable occupation in the Uruguayan capital, they would not think of changing to the Argentine metropolis where life was so much more expensive.
After comparing notes with many acquaintances in both towns, and contrasting these with my own experiences, I came to the conclusion that while the householder in Buenos Ayres is confronted with economicconditions which make for excessively high cost of living, a person in the same position in Montevideo lives relatively cheaper, as house rents, criminally high in Buenos Ayres, are moderate in the other city, and domestic labour is somewhat cheaper, while facilities for securing food stuffs are greater and the market prices relatively less. But to the stranger who does not take a house in either city, and prefers the comfortless freedom of hotel life, the conditions are exactly reversed, so that Montevideo would appear to a casual observer the more expensive city in which to live.
The main reason for this is the short-sighted policy of the hotel-keepers in the Uruguayan capital, which, during the summer months—December, January, and February—is an increasingly popular place of resort for wealthy Argentines and the no less wealthyhacendadosfrom the Uruguayan “Camp.” The hotels, then crowded beyond all possibilities of accommodation,—so that I have known an Argentine Minister of State glad to occupy a bathroom, from which he noisily refused to be ejected in the morning to permit of other guests turning the room to its proper uses—raise their prices to absurd heights, and when the season suddenly collapses, the managers still endeavour to screw from their lingering guests as near an approach as possible to the season’s prices. Montevideo hotels that three or four years ago were charging from $3.50 to $4.00 per day (the Uruguayan dollar is worth two cents more than the American) now demand in the season from seven to nine dollars for accommodation which consists of one small room, with full board, half a dollar extra having to be paid for each bath taken on thepremises! When I protested against this extra charge for baths, the hotel-keeper said that under no circumstances was he prepared to deduct it, as water in Montevideo was “dearer than wine,” because amalditaEnglish company owned the waterworks, and made the poor townspeople pay dearly for the privilege of keeping themselves clean. Under the circumstances, my wife and I were quite willing to substitute the cheaper wine for the water, but even this condescension on our part did not meet with his approval.
Certain it is that, although Buenos Ayres cannot really maintain the proud claim to be the most expensive city in the world—for I defy you to beat the record of four dollars paid by an acquaintance of mine in Rio de Janeiro for one cake of Pears’ soap, a small packet of tooth-powder, and four ounces of tobacco, all bought in the same shop!—it is in all conscience one of the most remarkably easy places in the world for getting rid of money quickly. Mr. Punch’s immortal Scotsman who wasn’t in London half an hour before “bang went saxpence” would assuredly have had an apoplectic fit within a quarter of an hour of arriving in Buenos Ayres. Fortunately, the preliminary shocks, which ought to be the severest, are the least felt, for one takes some little time to become familiarised with the relative values of the money, and not until one can instantly figure the American or English values of the Argentine notes he is paying away does he quite realise how rapidly his hard-earned cash is slipping from him.
The real unit of value in most transactions is the paperpeso,—these notes are usually so dirty that they are in very truth “filthy lucre”—and as the exchangestands about 11.4 to the English sovereign (the standard throughout South America), it will be seen that a peso is value for about 42 cents. Many English residents, in endeavouring to regulate their expenditure, follow the somewhat simple plan of reckoning a peso as a shilling. This method certainly saves worry, though it is extremely bad finance, and worse, when it is known that, even reckoned as a shilling, the peso can purchase nothing that is the equivalent of a shilling’s worth in England. Thus bad begins, but worse remains behind, for,—as we shall all too surely find,—not only have we often to spend three times, and sometimes four times the value of English money to secure what the English unit would have obtained at home, but the article so bought will often prove to befalsificado,—a shoddy imitation!
But what most strikes the observer at first is the seeming negligence with which the Buenos Ayrian throws his money about, and the brazen audacity of the shopkeeper, as illustrated by the price he places upon his wares. The one is, of course, a resultant of the other, though, obviously, there must be other forces at work to inflate prices. Mainly, we have to bear in mind that in this great city, perhaps the most cosmopolitan in the world, with a population of nearly a million and a half gathered from the ends of Earth, a motley multitude of money grubbers, money is the only standard of value. Thus, an art dealer who placed a statue in his window and ticketed it at a reasonable figure, leaving to himself a fair profit after importing it at a fair price, would not long continue to thrive in Buenos Ayres. A very large percentage of the spendingclass are people who have come by their money easily, and, lacking all knowledge alike of commercial values and intrinsic worth, can judge only that a thing is good or bad according as the seller prices it. It is a happy state of affairs this, which cannot last forever, and already there are signs that the Golden Age is passing. In October of 1912, for instance, I witnessed a portentous demonstration, in which a hundred thousand citizens took part, to petition the Government and Municipality for some immediate legislative action to lessen the cruel burden of the common people, to whom high wages and brisk trade mean absolutely nothing, in view of the excessive prices for the merest necessaries of life. To this I shall make further reference in the present chapter.
I remember how impressed I was in one of my earliest walks, window gazing in Calle Florida, by the curious care certain shopkeepers had taken to display articles which in New York would have been heaped in tray-loads and ticketed, “Anything in this basket 20 cts.” In fancy goods dealers’, for example, insignificant little purses and common pencil-holders, cheap fountain pens and little desk calendars, paper knives, and all the familiar odds and ends which are classed under the generic head of “fancy goods,” were not crowded into the window, as with us, suggesting overflowing richness of stock, but were each disposed in solitary state at respectful distance from one another, much as though they were valuable jewels, and indeed when one noted the prices, they might have been precious stones, for a leather purse which would sell in New York for a dollar would there be ticketed relativelyat $3. I paid exactly $3.15 for a small loose-leaf pocket book, an exact copy of which I had previously bought in London for $1.30.
The chief disparity between English and South American prices is found in articles of clothing, which, fortunately for most temporary residents, is a matter that does not greatly trouble them, as it is always possible to take sufficient clothing to last one for a considerable period. But certainly when you see an ordinary straw hat, that would sell in the Strand, London, for $1.25 ticketed somewhere around $4 you are inclined to catch your breath. The common “bowler,” that sells in London at $1.50 will cost you anything from four to five dollars; while the average price for a suit of clothes made to measure in Buenos Ayres, equivalent in all respects to a suit costing twenty dollars in London, is fifty dollars. Consequently, many Argentines have their measure taken by a London tailor, who, charging them thirty dollars for a suit (thus leaving an unusual margin of profit to himself) enables the purchaser, after paying $10 import duty, to wear an actual London made suit for 20 per cent. less than he can get one of inferior quality made in Buenos Ayres.
To give anything like an exhaustive list of the excessive prices charged for the simplest necessities in the way of personal clothing might be to lay oneself open to the charge of exaggeration, except that, fortunately, I have preserved several newspaper advertisements as evidence of thebona fidesof any statements I have made, should these ever be called in question. So far as clothing is concerned, I shall limitmyself to the further statement that on the day of my leaving Buenos Ayres for travel further afield, I bought one dozen pairs of common socks, which in London sell for 40 cts. a pair, and paid for these exactly forty pesos, or $1.40 per pair. This was one of the few occasions, during my stay in South America, when I found it necessary to purchase any articles of personal wear, and afterwards on looking at the prices in New York and London stores, I congratulated myself very heartily that I went forth to my adventures in South America well stocked. I remember an English traveller, whose business takes him to Buenos Ayres for three months of every year, stating in the most emphatic manner that he would rather walk down Florida in his shirt tail than commit the economic crime of purchasing a stitch of clothing in the town,—and he was not a Scotsman!
It might be thought that the Gringo was a legitimate object of prey for the harpy shopkeepers of Buenos Ayres, but it is not so. The present writer, being not only competent to ask for anything in the native language, but, when occasion serves, to engage in heated and lengthy discussion in that delightful tongue, never found it possible to secure better terms than were granted to any Gringo who could not utter a sentence of Spanish. It is not a case of one tariff for the native and, another for the foreigner, as we find in Paris and other European resorts. The native pays as highly—and, from long practice, much more cheerfully—for all that he buys, as the stranger.
In proof of this, I cannot quote a better example than that afforded by an incident in which the silk hatof my native secretary figured somewhat eminently. He had been wearing it one Sunday at some special function—for the “stove pipe” is throughout Latin America the symbol of importance and of special occasions, as it used to be in England—and, happening to be caught in a heavy shower, he required to send it round to the hatter’s for ironing next morning. His wife, also a native, speaking only Spanish, called in and took the hat back home (errand boys are at a premium). The charge made for merely ironing the hat was 4 pesos ($1.68). The good lady had no idea whether this was much or little, but her husband considered it a trifle excessive, as he, having lived some little time in New York, and having found it possible to have a hat ironed there for 10 cents went round to the Buenos Ayres hatter, and after much argument succeeded in recovering two pesos, or 50 per cent. of the charge from that gentleman, who was quite indifferent to the business, and told him to keep his old hat at home, as he had no wish to iron anybody’s hats!
That is the spirit in which all repairing business is done. If you want anything repaired, you have got to pay so much that it is about as cheap to buy a new article. One day my watch stopped: the spring was not broken, and evidently it was only some slight fault, requiring, probably, a speck of oil. I left it with the watchmaker and asked him to regulate it. Calling next day, the watch was ready and going perfectly well, but to my surprise I was asked to pay eight pesos ($3.35) for the craftsman’s skill and labour in putting it right.
The Luxurious Domestic Architecture of Buenos Ayres.The immense building seen in the background of the upper illustration is the home of the Paz family in the Plaza San Martín; the lower view shows a typical “quinta,” or country house of an Argentine magnate in the suburbs.
The Luxurious Domestic Architecture of Buenos Ayres.
The immense building seen in the background of the upper illustration is the home of the Paz family in the Plaza San Martín; the lower view shows a typical “quinta,” or country house of an Argentine magnate in the suburbs.
“Oh, evidently the mainspring was broken when you charge so much,” I remarked.
“No, sir, the mainspring was not broken,” he replied.
“Then surely one of the jewels must have fallen out, or there was something to replace, to justify so heavy a charge.”
“No, none of the jewels was missing, but it was quite a difficult little job, and, besides, we do not like to repair watches,”—which was all the satisfaction I was able to secure for parting with eight pesos!
On mentioning my experience that afternoon to an Englishman of longer residence in the city, he remarked that these were the sort of things that never could happen to one after two or three years, because one soon discovered it was cheaper to buy, as you can, a good useful 5 peso American watch, and whenever it goes out of order, throw it away and buy another.
There is a perfectly reasonable explanation of this. Workmanship, artisan skill, labour of all sorts, are the commodities at highest premiums in Buenos Ayres. People are making their money, reaping fortunes, not from honest, productive workmanship and exercise of creative skill, as in North American and in other settled industrial countries, but merely from sale and exchange. The men who grow rich are the agents, the middle-men, and it is the middle-men who are taking back as quickly as they can from the wage-earners the high salaries which the latter can easily obtain but not so easily retain. The stationer, for instance, who sold me for ten pesos a mechanical pencil sharpener, which my office boy immediately broke by carelessly insertingthe point of the pencil, charged five pesos to repair the little machine. His business was to sell at a profit what he had imported from Europe, but not to supply skill and labour to put anything right.
As rather an inveterate smoker, and one with a preference for cigars, I recall how disappointed I was to be told by the captain of the ship on which I sailed to the River Plate, that there was probably no place in the world where cigars were so bad or so expensive as in Buenos Ayres. I cherished for a time some faint hope that this was perhaps a sweeping generalisation founded on unfortunate experience, but I must bear witness to its general accuracy. The cigar shops are many of them most beautifully appointed, fitted up with a luxury rare even in London or New York. In not one of them is there a smokable cigar to be had at less than 60 centavos (roughly 25 cts.) and in order to enjoy something approximating to the pleasure of a fine Cuban cigar, which would sell in New York for 40 cts., you will have to disburse at least 3 pesos, or $1.25. It is a custom among the Argentines, who are notably abstemious, to invite a friend to smoke a cigar, under circumstances where an American or Englishman would ask him to “have a drink.” Often I have noticed at the tobacconist’s a gentleman taking in a friend to “stand” him a cigar, and seldom, if he is a gentleman who values his self-respect and reputation in the community, will he offer a friend anything less than a cigar that cost three pesos. It is naturally a biggish cigar, and it will certainly have a very wide band, with a good splash of gilt on it, and it will probably smoke not quite so well as a 25-ct. cigar sold inBroadway. So far as I could discover, the moist atmosphere deteriorates the imported Havannas. Locally made imitations are concocted from Brazilian tobacco, packed up in disused Havanna boxes and hawked among the offices by men who pretend to have smuggled them into the country without paying duty. Admirably “faked” as to outward appearance—for the art of falsification is one of the few local industries that flourish in Buenos Ayres—these cigars can deceive no one after the first puff, but thousands of boxes are annually sold to ready buyers, who, unable to afford the shop prices, at least make a pretence of smoking Havannas, though they know quite well they are being fobbed off with cheap Brazilian tobacco. Cigars are sold at all sorts of prices, from 20 centavos upwards, and occasionally it is possible to smoke one sold at 50 centavos, as I had frequently to do at my hotel, where I was charged one peso for a cigar, on the band of which 50 centavos was printed. Representing to the manager that 42 cents seemed a good deal to pay for a 21-cent cigar, the value of which in New York would not have exceeded ten cents, he blandly assured me that they always charged a peso for a 50 centavo cigar in the hotel!
Hotel prices are naturally in excess of all shop prices in Buenos Ayres, as elsewhere, and of course there are degrees even among the hotels. At one hotel where some of the modern comforts common to the better class of hotels in London or New York may be obtained, the tariff is so formidable that even an Argentine millionaire whose acquaintance I made, and who had been making the hotel his headquarters for a yearor two instead of living in a town house, told me that he would have to quit, as he felt it was little short of sinful to pay the weekly bill with which he was presented. Another gentleman, the manager of a very large industrial concern in England, whose market is mainly in the Argentine, was spending several months in Buenos Ayres during my stay, and left the palatial hotel in question to come to the more modest establishment where we two Gringos put up. In talking over the relative charges with me, he said that while we had to pay enough in all conscience for what we received (and for which no praying could have made us “truly thankful”!), there was at least the difference between paying excessively for very common fare and having your money literally “taken away from you.” Yet the hotel in question, thanks to the extraordinary difficulty of obtaining competent assistants at reasonable wages, and to the famine prices which must be paid for every domestic commodity, as well as the immense capital that has to be invested in steel frames, reinforced concrete, and furnishings, is no very profitable business for those who conduct it. I doubt if they could charge less than they do! This was often my experience when I came to inquire into what seemed altogether unreasonable prices: to find that those who seemed to be imposing on one were really asking no more than the circumstances warranted.
All the same, a knowledge of the economic conditions does not greatly help you to look with approval upon a charge of $2.35 for placing a bunch of about six roses and half-a-dozen other flowers in a bowl on your table at dinner when you are entertaining a coupleof guests, especially if, as you happen to know for certain, the said flowers have been left over from a wedding celebration in the hotel the evening before. On several occasions this was the charge which appeared on our weekly bill for decorating our little table in the gorgeous manner described. Myself, having scant use for alcoholic beverages, my main expenses on liquids touched “soft drinks.” Certainly the prices were hard enough. I have retained some of our hotel bills as reminders. From these I extract the following interesting items: One bottle of San Pellegrino Water, 55 cts.; Salus Water, 70 cts.; Small Apollinaris, 35 cts.; Schweppe’s Soda, 58 cts.; Vichy, 55 cts.; Small Perrier, 35 cts. As most visitors make it a point never to drink the water of the town, and can easily dispose of several bottles of Perrier or Schweppe’s Soda per day during the hot weather, the reader can figure what proportions the weekly bill for mineral waters will reach, and it must be borne in mind that the figures given are those charged at a hotel of an extremely modest character. Nor would these prices appear so excessive if each bottle contained what was indicated on the label. There is no security that such is the case, and I know that many a time have I had to accept some local concoction put forth in the guise of an imported European mineral water.
I also find some notes as to alcoholic drinks in our hotel bills, which will give some notion of the casual expenses of entertaining friends. For a bottle of Guinness’ Stout, 45 cts.; for a glass of Tonic Water and Gin, 50 cts.; for a bottle of Chandon, $5.30; the same for a bottle of Veuve Clicquot; Chateau Lafitte, $3; andso on. It will be noticed that the disparity between American and Argentine prices in the matter of alcoholic drinks is less glaring than in the case of mineral waters. But I find an occasional item in these weekly bills which probably touches the high water mark of imposition. Under the heading of “Alcohol,” we were charged from time to time 75 cts. for a pint bottle of methylated spirits for use in a small spirit lamp!
Apart altogether from the normal excessive charges in the ordinary hotels, which one comes to accept without demur simply because they are universal, a further stage of imposition is to be noted in the swindling propensities of restaurant employees. Thus, I have a note that I was once made to pay $1.05 for one glass of tonic water and gin which I “stood” a friend, and on various occasions I was charged 63 cts. for a glass of whisky and soda, while I had myself consumed frequent glasses of hot water with half-a-lemon squeezed therein and a spoonful of sugar added, at a charge of 27 cts., before I realised that a portion of these casual expenses was finding its way into the pocket of the gentleman with the shifty eyes who presided over a certain “bar” where the drinks were obtained. But the hotel charge of 62 cts. for half an hour’s game of billiards, which conformed in every particular to that imagined by W. S. Gilbert as the punishment of the billiard sharper,—
“On a cloth untrue, with a twisted cue,And elliptical billiard balls,”—
“On a cloth untrue, with a twisted cue,And elliptical billiard balls,”—
“On a cloth untrue, with a twisted cue,And elliptical billiard balls,”—
“On a cloth untrue, with a twisted cue,
And elliptical billiard balls,”—
seemed to me at once an insult and an injury.
Mentioning petty swindling on the part of employeesreminds me that the favourite dodge is to return the change of a five peso bill when a ten peso bill has been presented. My patience, though seared by many tiny swindles mutely borne, was never equal to taking the five-pesos-for-ten trick “lying down.” I first became acquainted with it, soon after my arrival, at Retiro station, when taking out a ticket for Hurlingham, the British suburban resort. Presenting a ten peso bill at the booking office, the clerk hastily handed me my ticket and the change of a five peso bill, which fact I discovered only on examining my change after leaving the window. But even at that early period of my stay, my command of the language was good enough to enable me to return to the window and hold up the entire crowd of would-be ticket-buyers, by informing the clerk that I intended to stay there until he handed me another five pesos. He brazenly denied that I had presented a ten peso bill, but on my stoutly asserting that I intended remaining in front of his window till I received another five pesos, he forthwith met my demand, and thereby advertised himself to the entire company the thief he undoubtedly was. I do not exaggerate when I state that on dozens of occasions I had to draw the attention of shop assistants and waiters (especially on dining cars) to the fact that they had made this slight error in my change. When it is remembered that five pesos is no less a sum than $2.10, it will be understood that some slight knowledge of the language is desirable when one goes a-shopping among the petty swindlers of Buenos Ayres.
Perhaps the very apex of audacity in the matter of excessive prices is reached by the chemists, who oughtsurely to be the richest trades people in all South America. It was our unfortunate experience, as indeed it is the experience of most Northerners who have to live for any length of time in these parts, to be fairly frequent patrons of the drug shop. But no amount of experience reconciled us to the prices that were exacted. Nor do I think the natives ever purchased anything without an inward or outward protest, as I was frequently present at disputes between customer and chemist. I recall particularly a youth who had been sent by his employer to fetch some medicine that had been dispensed for him, and on offering all the money his employer had given him to pay for the medicine, he was found to have brought less than half the price demanded by the chemist.
It was my wife’s unfortunate fate to have to consume a large number ofcachets, prescribed by a Porteño doctor, and these I had to purchase weekly at a well-known drug store, paying $2.10 for thirty, the price of which in London would have been 60 cents. Out of curiosity, after two or three weeks, I took the prescription to another chemist—as there is one at every other street corner, the choice is ample—and was supplied with precisely the same articles at $1.05. But the following week, when I returned for a new supply, I was charged $2.10, as at the other chemist’s! On my protesting that I had only paid half that price the previous week, I was informed that as they had a somewhat limited supply of a certain drug used in the prescription, they were forced to charge an increased price, and had therefore added 100 per cent. to the first charge! These prices are typical of everythingsold in the chemists’ shops; from soap to chest protectors, there is not a single item that will not cost the purchaser from three to five times the price at which it may be bought in the stores of New York or London.
It will thus be seen that it is a somewhat expensive business to be ill in South America, and as most people, natives included, seem to be in a continual state of recovering from illness (so much so that a familiar greeting among the natives is “Buenas días, y como le pasa su estómago?”—“Good morning, and how’s your stomach?”), the harvest of the chemist fails less frequently than that of the agriculturist. The commonest class of doctor charges a fee of $4.15 if you call upon him for a few minutes’ consultation and are fortunate enough to be admitted before his two hours of work are over, as you will usually find a roomful of patients awaiting his attention. If you indulge in the luxury of inviting a visit from him at your house, his charge will be $8.30, which must be paid on the nail, while payment for a consultation at his rooms is either made to an attendant before entering, or to the doctor himself on leaving. A simple operation, such as that for appendicitis, will cost you anything from $250 to $1000.
Returning again to the smaller items of daily expense which help to drain your earnings away from you as quickly almost as you receive them, I find I have a few further notes worthy of record. At the hotel where we lived, two English servants suddenly appeared. They had been attracted to Buenos Ayres as the new Eldorado, and wages of forty pesos a monthhad seemed to them the beginning of fortune, especially when they estimated the possibilities of “tips.” But one of them, requiring to buy a new hat after her first fortnight in the city, and being charged twenty-three pesos for the same (about $10), which in London she would have considered fairly expensive at $1.70, she and her companion very speedily made up their minds to return home, prepared to be a little more contented with the conditions they had so lately despised. A peso and a half (63 cts.) was a common charge for hair-cutting—a simple haircut, no shampoo or singeing included, mark you.
As for theatre charges, the opera save in the gallery—where anybody who has any reputation to maintain in the town can not afford to be seen—is possible only to the wealthy, and consequently it is seldom visited by English residents, except when honoured by an invitation from some Argentine friend. A seat in the pit of the commonest theatre costs about $1.30. There is a curious system of paying for your seat and afterwards paying a peso for the privilege of entering the theatre! The cinematographs, which are relatively as numerous as in New York or Chicago, have a uniform charge of 85 cts. for an entertainment that compares badly with those that charge a quarter in New York. Some of them are run on a system of three sections per evening, the admission being 25 cts. to each section, but these are of the cheaper class.
In short, there is no necessity or luxury of life for which one has not to pay many times more in Buenos Ayres or in Montevideo than in any North Americanor European city. Every instance I have taken from my personal experience, and beyond these there are doubtless hundreds of examples quite as remarkable, or perhaps still more noteworthy, for various newcomers with whom I came into touch, who were settling in the city and under the necessity of furnishing flats or houses, were uniformly aghast at the prices they were asked to pay for the most modest items of furniture, while house rents would have turned a Fifth Avenue landlord green with envy. I had personally to buy many items of office furniture, the prices of which I do not recall, with the exception of a polished oak table of North American manufacture, which in London would not have fetched more than $15, but which cost me exactly $70. I also remember that a none-too-ostentatious writing-desk of similar origin cost me upwards of $125.
Terminus of the Southern Railway at Plaza Constitucion, Buenos Ayres.
Terminus of the Southern Railway at Plaza Constitucion, Buenos Ayres.
No wonder such conditions of life should be pressing heavily on the resident population, with whomla carestía de la vidahas become an all-absorbing topic of conversation. During my stay, as I have already mentioned, a strong movement was initiated by the popular journalLa Argentina, in the hope of bringing about some easing of the terrible burden, with what ultimate success I know not. But it is interesting to quote here a few passages from the leading English daily (theStandard), which, like all the Buenos Ayres journals, native and foreign alike, is seldom severely critical of the economic conditions of the country, being, I suppose, nervously afraid of saying anything that might place the Argentine in an unfavourable light to foreign critics:
For some years past the Press has been urging upon the National and Municipal authorities the necessity of adopting measures for improving the condition of the working-classes by reducing the cost of the necessaries of life and by providing convenient and hygienic dwellings for workmen and their families, but hitherto, the people having remained patiently submissive to the economic state of things which counteracts the higher remuneration obtainable for labour, the authorities have failed in their duties to promote, to the utmost of their power, the well-being of the mass of the population of this great city. Congress has voted lavishly the resources for the embellishment of the city, for the construction of monumental buildings and monuments, for the acquisition of useless warships, for the granting of hundreds of pensions to persons who have no claim to public charity, for the sending of representatives to congresses held in foreign countries upon subjects in which this Republic is not interested, and special embassies and commissions under different excuses, to enable favoured individuals to make the tour of Europe with their families at the expense of the public, but there is never any surplus revenue to permit the diminution of the duties and taxes which weigh most heavily upon the shoulders least able to bear the burden....The place of meeting was in the Congress plaza, to which, in spite of the threatening state of the weather, the people flowed from all parts of the city and suburbs, and at the appointed time marched in orderly procession to the Plaza Mayo. A deputation, headed by Mr. Adrian Patroni, a member of the staff ofLa Argentina, was received in the Government House by the Minister of Finance, Dr. Perez, who was accompanied by his private secretary and by the Administrator of the Custom House. Mr. Patroni presented to the Minister a petition, together with numerous lists of thousands of signatures in support of the petition, which asks, among other things, for the reduction of the import duties on the necessaries of life;for a diminution of the cost of transport of articles of general consumption; for the erection of 10,000 houses for workmen and their families; for the grant of sufficient funds for paving all the streets of the suburbs in order to give work to the unemployed as well as to improve the hygiene of the city; for the prohibition of races on working days, and for the closing of the hippodromes (race-courses) within five years....Numbers of people in the procession carried placards upon which were inscribed the requirements of the proletariat, including, besides those mentioned in the petition, demands for the concession of the public land, with facilities for the payment of the same, to those who are willing to cultivate it; for personal security for all the inhabitants of the provinces and territories; for the improvement of the roads; for the suppression of trusts and monopolies; for severe legislation against usury; for regulations of the auctioneers’ profession; for issuing bonds for 100,000,000 pesos for pavement in the suburbs; for the reduction of license taxes on the vendors of articles of consumption; for establishing free fairs in all sections of the municipality; for permission to introduce the carcasses of animals slaughtered outside the boundaries of the Municipality.
For some years past the Press has been urging upon the National and Municipal authorities the necessity of adopting measures for improving the condition of the working-classes by reducing the cost of the necessaries of life and by providing convenient and hygienic dwellings for workmen and their families, but hitherto, the people having remained patiently submissive to the economic state of things which counteracts the higher remuneration obtainable for labour, the authorities have failed in their duties to promote, to the utmost of their power, the well-being of the mass of the population of this great city. Congress has voted lavishly the resources for the embellishment of the city, for the construction of monumental buildings and monuments, for the acquisition of useless warships, for the granting of hundreds of pensions to persons who have no claim to public charity, for the sending of representatives to congresses held in foreign countries upon subjects in which this Republic is not interested, and special embassies and commissions under different excuses, to enable favoured individuals to make the tour of Europe with their families at the expense of the public, but there is never any surplus revenue to permit the diminution of the duties and taxes which weigh most heavily upon the shoulders least able to bear the burden....
The place of meeting was in the Congress plaza, to which, in spite of the threatening state of the weather, the people flowed from all parts of the city and suburbs, and at the appointed time marched in orderly procession to the Plaza Mayo. A deputation, headed by Mr. Adrian Patroni, a member of the staff ofLa Argentina, was received in the Government House by the Minister of Finance, Dr. Perez, who was accompanied by his private secretary and by the Administrator of the Custom House. Mr. Patroni presented to the Minister a petition, together with numerous lists of thousands of signatures in support of the petition, which asks, among other things, for the reduction of the import duties on the necessaries of life;for a diminution of the cost of transport of articles of general consumption; for the erection of 10,000 houses for workmen and their families; for the grant of sufficient funds for paving all the streets of the suburbs in order to give work to the unemployed as well as to improve the hygiene of the city; for the prohibition of races on working days, and for the closing of the hippodromes (race-courses) within five years....
Numbers of people in the procession carried placards upon which were inscribed the requirements of the proletariat, including, besides those mentioned in the petition, demands for the concession of the public land, with facilities for the payment of the same, to those who are willing to cultivate it; for personal security for all the inhabitants of the provinces and territories; for the improvement of the roads; for the suppression of trusts and monopolies; for severe legislation against usury; for regulations of the auctioneers’ profession; for issuing bonds for 100,000,000 pesos for pavement in the suburbs; for the reduction of license taxes on the vendors of articles of consumption; for establishing free fairs in all sections of the municipality; for permission to introduce the carcasses of animals slaughtered outside the boundaries of the Municipality.
Now what is the reason for this extraordinary expense of living? It is not a matter that can be explained in a few sentences, so many factors are at work to make the conditions what they are. I can at most throw a beam of light on several of these factors. Visitors are astonished, for instance, to be told that in a country popularly supposed to be one of the most naturally fruitful in the world (though there is no greater illusion), that the commonest fruits which in North America and Europe are within the reach of the very poorest, are only to be enjoyed in Buenos Ayresby the rich. The country is almost destitute of native fruit-bearing trees; it is naturally a treeless, bushless, wilderness of rich, loamy soil, capable of producing enormous crops of grain if properly cultivated, or of maintaining almost fabulous herds of cattle. The contents of the orchards and vineyards that do exist must be reckoned as exotics. Few people, indeed, seem to trouble about the cultivation of fruit or vegetables, though the vineyards round about Mendoza on the Andine frontier, and Bahía Blanca in the south of the Province of Buenos Ayres, show what unlimited possibilities the soil possesses for the vine. Cattle and grain have occupied (and not unnaturally) the energies of the agriculturists, but fruit-growing has been comparatively neglected. Even so, it has fallen into the hands of a vicious “ring,” who, adopting the worst of North American methods, have set themselves to exploit the public. In the islands of the Tigre, at carting distance from Buenos Ayres, where fruit and to spare could be grown to supply the needs of the capital; and across the river, in Uruguay, where there are ideal conditions for fruit culture, and where peaches, pears, apples, and other fruits are almost as plentiful as blackberries; this ring has seized control, and I have been told that thousands of tons of peaches and other fruit have been thrown into the river in a single season rather than that the harvest, by its natural abundance, should have been permitted to lower the market prices.
A successful English fruit-grower, attracted by the possibilities of Buenos Ayres and the crying need for supplies, came out to study the situation, and foundthat although he could easily have secured ideal orchard land, and could have raised enormous crops of apples, pears, peaches, and all sorts of table fruits, he would have been powerless to have brought his products to the market in face of this sinister ring. He, therefore, abandoned the project and returned to England. Thus, within walking distance of orchards laden with peaches, it would cost you 6 cts. for one, and in Montevideo the conditions are more outrageous still, as during our summer there we bought hundreds of Californian apples at a cost of from 16 cts. to 25 cts. each, the local product, at best inferior to the imported, and nearly as expensive, being then inaccessible.
One effect of this scarcity of fruit—and the vegetables are only a little less scarce, the country people seldom tasting them!—is the vogue of English preserves, which are served as table delicacies. Jams, which the London workman buys at 12 cts. a pot, are dealt out in the restaurants in spoonfuls at more than 12 cts. a helping!Dulce inglésais the line on themenuand when you ask for it (which you do but once) you find it means a tablespoonful of common strawberry jam, and you could have had apeche melbafor the money at home! Common 12 ct. pots of marmalade are sold in Buenos Ayres at 43 cts. In Montevideo we two Gringos were responsible for the consumption of many a tin of American fruit, such as sells in London at 20 cts. or 25 cts., the uniform price of which in Montevideo was 80 cts.
In the matter of manufactured articles, one naturally expects to pay extra, since everything has to beimported from Europe or the United States. From the latter country comes most of the polished oak office furniture, on which there is an infamous import duty, on top of which again the selling agents exact large profits. In this way the price swells to four or five times the home selling cost. Import duties on ready-made clothes and every variety of household wares are so excessive that the original cost is augmented by 25 per cent. to 50 per cent. before the seller secures possession of the goods. The seller in turn has such enormous expenses in the shape of high wages to assistants and iniquitous rentals, that he must clap on another 25 per cent. or so for handling expenses, and finally, as he himself has heavy outgoings for his own living and will naturally endeavour to secure some little luxuries from the limited possibilities open to him, on must go another 25 per cent. or more for profit.
It is thus one vicious circle, which results in everybody earning far more money than he can earn anywhere else, and spending four or five times more to secure about one-half of the comfort or luxury he would expect to enjoy in any part of Europe or North America. Net result: he is, perhaps, “ahead of the game,” but I am far from being convinced that the European or the North American could not equally keep “ahead of the game” in his own country, earning less, spending less, enjoying more, and saving equally. There is, however, to some temperaments a certain delight in having money pass freely through one’s hands, and assuredly that is what happens in theArgentine. If the money comes easily, it goes with equal ease, and in the getting and the going there is a certain zest which brings with it a feeling of unusual prosperity.