The train reaches Mendoza at an unconscionably early hour, and the cold and gloom prevent the formation of any impression about the beauties of the garden city. For South America, the Province and city of Mendoza are extremely ancient. It was in 1559 that Garcia de Mendoza, the Governor of Chile, sent Pedro Castillo with a small force to annex the district of Cuyo. This included not only Mendoza, but also the Provinces of San Juan and San Luis, and for more than two centuries it formed part of Chile, but the famous Decree of 1776 transferred it to the Viceroyalty of Buenos Aires. During the Revolution it was divided into three provinces. Mendoza, the town, which is as old as the Province, was in the early part of the nineteenth century a beautiful place, extremely prosperous, and its _dolce far niente_ won the hearts of all who visited it.[140] But it was destroyed by one of the most terrible and devastating catastrophes that ever visited a community. It was the evening of Ash Wednesday, March 20, 1861, and the whole of Mendoza was at church. Suddenly a rumbling noise was heard, and in a moment the city was razed to the ground and thirteen thousand people destroyed. Barely two thousand escaped. One of the survivors was a gentleman named Don Jaime Albarracin, who has given a vivid account of the affair.[141] He tells how the weather had been sultry for some days. His family had gone to church and he was sitting at the window of his house talking to M. Bravard, the well-known French geologist, whose researches had led him to predict the destruction of Mendoza by earthquake. Don Jaime heard a crash and immediately found himself buried under the ruins of his house with a broken leg. Fires had broken out and raged all night within a short distance of him. All day long he remained there and for another night. "The horror of my situation was increased by a dreadful thirst; the very air I breathed was thick with dust and smoke. It seemed an interminable night. The second day I heard voices, and summoning all my strength, called out loudly for assistance. All was again silent for a couple of hours, till the afternoon, when I woke from a short sleep to hear footsteps quite close to me. The first man who approached me replied with a coarse insult when I begged him to lift the beam under which I lay. His comrades were no less inhuman, for they were one of the numerous gangs of banditti attracted like birds of prey to the scene of disaster. They had seen the flames afar off on the pampas, and came in scent of booty." Yet another night was passed, but on the following day he bribed a robber with his gold watch to lift him out of the debris, and finally he was taken to a hut. The fires continued to rage and they were followed by an unbearable smell from the decomposing carcases, and the survivors had to be carried away to farmhouses. The Governor perished, as also did the French scientist who made the all too accurate prediction. "So