In the Preface to the Second and Third Editions of this work (See
preliminary pages of this translation) I have already noticed the
republication of the preceding tale, which was first printed in
Schiller’s _Horen_ (for the year 1795, part 5, pages 90–96). It embodies
the development of a physiological idea in a semi-mythical garb. In the
year 1793, in the Latin _Aphorisms from the Chemical Physiology of
Plants_, appended to my _Subterranean Flora_, I had defined the _vital
force_ as the unknown cause which prevents the elements from following
their original attractive forces. The first of my aphorisms ran thus:—
“Rerum naturam si totam consideres, magnum atque durabile, quod inter
elementa intercedit, discrimen perspicies, quorum altera affinitatum
legibus obtemperantia, altera, vinculis solutis, varie juncta apparent.
Quod quidem discrimen in elementis ipsis eorumque indole neutiquam
positum, quum ex sola distributione singulorum petendum esse videatur.
Materiam segnem, brutam, inanimam eam vocamus, cujus stamina secundum
leges chymicæ affinitatis mixta sunt. Animata atque organica ea
potissimum corpora appellamus, quæ, licet in novas mutari formas
perpetuo tendant, vi interna quadam continentur, quominus priscam
sibique insitam formam relinquant.
“Vim internam, quæ chymicæ affinitatis vincula resolvit, atque obstat,
quominus elementa corporum libere conjungantur, vitalem vocamus. Itaque
nullum certius mortis criterium putredine datur, qua primæ partes vel
stamina rerum, antiquis juribus revocatis, affinitatum legibus parent.
Corporum inanimorum nulla putredo esse potest.”[RL]
These opinions, against which the acute Vicq d’Azyr has protested in his
_Traité d’Anatomie_, vol. i. p. 5, but which are still entertained by
many eminent persons among my friends, I have placed in the mouth of
Epicharmus. Reflection and prolonged study in the departments of
physiology and chemistry have deeply shaken my earlier belief in
peculiar, so-called vital forces. In the year 1797, at the conclusion of
my _Versuche über die gereizte Muskel- und Nervenfaser, nebst
Vermuthungen über den chemischen Process des Lebens in der Thier- und
Pflanzenwelt_ (vol. ii. pp. 430–436), I already declared that I by no
means regarded the existence of these peculiar vital forces as
established. Since that period I have not applied the term _peculiar
forces_ to that which may possibly be produced only by the combined
action of the separate already long known substances and their material
forces. We may, however, deduce a more certain definition of _animate_
and _inanimate_ substances from the chemical relations of the elements,
than can be derived from the criteria of voluntary movement, the
circulation of fluid in solid parts, and the inner appropriation and
fibrous arrangement of the elements. I call that substance _animate_
“whose voluntarily separated parts change their composition after
separation has taken place, the former external relations still
continuing the same.” This definition is merely the expression of a
fact. The equilibrium of the elements is maintained in animate matter by
virtue of their being parts of one whole. One organ determines another,
one gives to another the temperature, the tone as it were, in which
these, and no other affinities operate. Thus in organisation all is
reciprocal, means and end. The rapidity with which organic parts change
their compound state, when separated from a complex of living organs,
differs greatly according to the degree of their dependence, and the
nature of the component materials. The blood of animals, which is
variously modified in the different classes, undergoes a change earlier
than the juices of plants. Fungi generally decompose more rapidly than
the leaves of trees; and muscle more readily than the cutis.
Bone, the elementary structure of which has only been understood of late
years, the hair of animals, the ligneous part of vegetable substances,
the shells or husks of fruit, and the feathery calix (_pappus_) of
plants, are not inorganic and devoid of life; but approximate, even in
life, to the condition which they manifest after their separation from
the rest of the organism. The higher the degree of vitality or
irritability of an animate substance, the more striking or rapid will be
the change in its compound state after separation. “The aggregate of the
cells is an organism, and the organism _lives_ as long as its parts
continue actively subservient to the whole. Considered antithetically to
inanimate nature, the organism _appears_ to be self-determining.”[RM]
The difficulty of satisfactorily referring the vital phenomena of
organism to physical and chemical laws, depends chiefly (and almost in
the same manner as the prediction of meteorological processes in the
atmosphere) on the complication of the phenomena, and on the great
number of the simultaneously acting forces, as well as the conditions of
their activity.
I have faithfully adhered in the _Cosmos_ to the same mode of
representing and considering the so-called _vital forces_, and
affinities,[RN] the formative impulse and the principle of organising
activity. I there wrote as follows:[RO] “The mythical ideas long
entertained of the imponderable substances, and vital forces, peculiar
to each mode of organization, have complicated our views generally, and
shed an uncertain light on the path we ought to pursue.
“The most various forms of intuition have thus, age after age, aided in
augmenting the prodigious mass of empirical knowledge, which in our own
day has been enlarged with ever-increasing rapidity. The investigating
spirit of man strives, from time to time, with varying success, to break
through those ancient forms and symbols invented to subject rebellious
matter to rules of mechanical construction.”
Further in the same work,[RP] I have said, “It must, however, be
remembered, that the inorganic crust of the earth contains within it the
same elements that enter into the structure of animal and vegetable
organs. A physical cosmography would therefore be incomplete, if it were
to omit a consideration of these forces, and of the substances which
enter into solid and fluid combinations in organic tissues, under
conditions which, from our ignorance of their actual nature, we
designate by the vague term of _vital forces_, and group into various
systems, in accordance with more or less perfectly conceived
analogies.”[RQ]
THE
PLATEAU, OR TABLE-LAND,
OF
CAXAMARCA,
THE ANCIENT CAPITAL OF THE INCA ATAHUALLPA,
AND THE
FIRST VIEW OF THE PACIFIC OCEAN,
_From the Ridge of the Andes_.
After having sojourned for a whole year on the ridge of the Andes, or
Antis,[111], between 4° north and 4° south latitude, amidst the
table-lands of New Granada, Pastos, and Quito, and consequently at an
elevation varying between 8,500 and 13,000 feet above the level of the
sea, it is delightful to descend gradually through the more genial
climate of the Cinchona or Quina Woods of Loxa, into the plains of the
Upper Amazon. There an unknown world unfolds itself, rich in magnificent
vegetation. The little town of Loxa has given its name to the most
efficacious of all fever barks,—the Quina, or the Cascarilla fina de
Loxa. This bark is the precious produce of the tree, which we have
botanically described as the Cinchona Condaminea; but which, (from the
erroneous supposition that all the Cinchona known in commerce was
obtained from one and the same tree,) had previously been called
Cinchona officinalis. The fever bark first became known, in Europe,
about the middle of the seventeenth century. Sebastian Badus affirms,
that it was brought to Alcala de Henares in the year 1632; but according
to other accounts, it was brought to Madrid in 1640, when the Countess
de Chinchon[112], the wife of the Peruvian Viceroy, arrived from Lima,
(where she had been cured of an intermittent fever,) accompanied by her
physician, Juan del Vego. The finest kind of Cinchona is obtained at the
distance of from eight to twelve miles southward of the town of Loxa,
among the mountains of Uritusinga, Villonaco, and Rumisitana. The trees
which yield this bark grow on mica slate and gneiss, at the moderate
elevations of 5755 and 7673 feet above the level of the sea, nearly
corresponding, respectively, with the heights of the Hospital on the
Grimsel, and the Pass of the Great St. Bernard. The Cinchona Woods in
these parts are bounded by the little rivulets Zamora and Cachyacu.
The tree is felled in its first flowering season, or about the fourth or
seventh year of its growth, according as it may have been reared from a
strong shoot or from seed. At the time of my journey in Peru we learned,
with surprise, that the quantity of the Cinchona Condaminea annually
obtained at Loxa by the Cascarilla gatherers, or Quina hunters
(_Cascarilleros_ and _Caçadores de Quina_), amounted only to 110 hundred
weight. At that time none of this valuable product found its way into
commerce; all that was obtained was shipped at Payta, a port of the
Pacific, and conveyed round Cape Horn to Cadiz, for the use of the
Spanish Court. To procure the small supply of 11,000 Spanish pounds, no
less than 800 or 900 Cinchona trees were cut down every year. The older
and thicker stems are becoming more and more scarce; but, such is the
luxuriance of growth, that the younger trees, which now supply the
demand, though measuring only six inches in diameter, frequently attain
the height of from 53 to 64 feet. This beautiful tree, which is adorned
with leaves five inches long and two broad, seems, when growing in the
thick woods, as if striving to rise above its neighbours. The upper
branches spread out, and when agitated by the wind the leaves have a
peculiar reddish colour and glistening appearance which is
distinguishable at a great distance. The mean temperature of the woods
of the Cinchona Condaminea varies between 60° and 66° Fahrenheit; that
is to say, about the mean annual temperature of Florence and the Island
of Madeira: but the extremes of heat and cold experienced at those
points of the temperate zone, are never felt in the vicinity of Loxa.
However, comparisons between climates in very different degrees of
latitude, and the climate of the table-lands of the tropical zone, must,
from their very nature, be unsatisfactory.
Descending from the mountain node of Loxa, south-south-east, into the
hot valley of the Amazon River, the traveller passes over the Paramos of
Chulucanas, Guamani, and Yamoca. These Paramos are the mountainous
deserts, which have been mentioned in another portion of the present
work; and which, in the southern parts of the Andes, are known by the
name of Puna, a word belonging to the Quichua language. In most places,
their elevation is about 10,125 feet. They are stormy, frequently
enveloped for several successive days in thick fogs, or visited by
terrific hail-storms; the hail-stones being not only of different forms,
generally much flattened by rotation, but also run together into thin
floating plates of ice called papa-cara, which cut the face and hands in
their fall. During this meteoric process, I have sometimes known the
thermometer to sink to 48° and even 43° Fahrenheit, and the electric
tension of the atmosphere, measured by the voltaic electrometer, has
changed, in the space of a few minutes, from positive to negative. When
the temperature is below 43° Fahrenheit, snow falls in large flakes,
scattered widely apart; but it disappears after the lapse of a few
hours. The short thin branches of the small leaved myrtle-like shrubs,
the large size and luxuriance of the blossoms, and the perpetual
freshness caused by the absorption of the moist atmosphere—all impart a
peculiar aspect and character to the treeless vegetation of the Paramos.
No zone of Alpine vegetation, whether in temperate or cold climates, can
be compared with that of the Paramos in the tropical Andes.
The solemn impression which is felt on beholding the deserts of the
Cordilleras, is increased in a remarkable and unexpected manner, by the
circumstance that in these very regions there still exist wonderful
remains of the great road of the Incas, that stupendous work by means of
which, communication was maintained among all the provinces of the
empire along an extent of upwards of 1000 geographical miles. On the
sides of this road, and nearly at equal distances apart, there are small
houses, built of well-cut free-stone. These buildings, which answered
the purpose of stations, or caravanseries, are called Tambos, and also
Inca-Pilca, (from Pircca, the Wall). Some are surrounded by a sort of
fortification; others were destined for baths, and had arrangements for
the conveyance of warm water: the larger ones were intended exclusively
for the family of the sovereign. At the foot of the volcano Cotopaxi,
near Callo, I had previously seen buildings of the same kind in a good
state of preservation. These I accurately measured, and made drawings
from them. Pedro de Cieça, who wrote in the sixteenth century, calls
these structures Aposentos de Mulalo[113]. The pass of the Andes, lying
between Alausi and Loxa, called the Paramo del Assuay, a much frequented
route across the Ladera de Cadlud, is at the elevation of 15,526 feet
above the level of the sea, and consequently almost at the height of
Mont Blanc. As we were proceeding through this pass, we experienced
considerable difficulty in guiding our heavily laden mules over the
marshy ground on the level height of the Pullal; but whilst we journeyed
onward for the distance of about four miles, our eyes were continually
rivetted on the grand remains of the Inca Road, upwards of 20 feet in
breadth. This road had a deep under-structure, and was paved with
well-hewn blocks of black trap porphyry. None of the Roman roads which I
have seen in Italy, in the south of France and in Spain, appeared to me
more imposing than this work of the ancient Peruvians; and the Inca road
is the more extraordinary, since, according to my barometrical
calculations, it is situated at an elevation of 13,258 feet above the
level of the sea, a height exceeding that of the summit of the Peak of
Teneriffe by upwards of 1000 feet. At an equal elevation, are the ruins
said to be those of the palace of the Inca Tupac Yupanqui, and known by
the name of the Paredones del Inca, situated on the Assuay. From these
ruins the Inca road, running southward in the direction of Cuenca, leads
to the small but well-preserved fortress of the Cañar[114], probably
belonging to the same period, viz.: the reign of Tupac Yupanqui, or that
of his warlike son Huayna Capac.
We saw still grander remains of the ancient Peruvian Inca road, on our
way between Loxa and the Amazon, near the baths of the Incas on the
Paramo of Chulucanas, not far from Guancabamba, and also in the vicinity
of Ingatambo, near Pomahuaca. The ruins at the latter place are situated
so low, that I found the difference of level between the Inca road at
Pomahuaca, and that in the Paramo del Assuay, to be upwards of 9700
feet. The distance in a direct line, as determined by astronomical
latitudes, is precisely 184 miles; and the ascent of the road is about
3730 feet greater than the elevation of the Pass of Mont Cenis, above
the Lake of Como. There are two great causeways, paved with flat stones,
and in some places covered with cemented gravel[115], on Macadam’s plan.
One of these lines of road runs through the broad and barren plain lying
between the sea-coast and the chain of the Andes, whilst the other
passes along the ridge of the Cordilleras. Stones, marking the distances
at equal intervals, are frequently seen. The rivulets and ravines were
crossed by bridges of three kinds; some being of stone, some of wood,
and others of rope. These bridges are called by the Peruvians, Puentes
de Hamaca, or Puentes de Maroma. There were also aqueducts for conveying
water to the Tambos and fortresses. Both lines of road were directed to
Cuzco, the central point and capital of the great Peruvian empire,
situated in 13° 31′ south lat., and according to Pentland’s Map of
Bolivia, at the elevation of 11,378 feet above the level of the sea. As
the Peruvians had no wheeled carriages, these roads were constructed for
the march of troops, for the conveyance of burthens borne by men, and
for flocks of lightly laden Lamas; consequently, long flights of
steps[116], with resting-places, were formed at intervals in the steep
parts of the mountains. Francisco Pizarro and Diego Almagro, in their
expeditions to remote parts of the country, availed themselves with much
advantage of the military roads of the Incas; but the steps just
mentioned were formidable impediments in the way of the Spanish cavalry,
especially as in the early period of the Conquista, the Spaniards rode
horses only, and did not make use of the sure-footed mule, which, in
mountainous precipices, seems to reflect on every step he takes. It was
only at a later period that the Spanish troops were mounted on mules.
Sarmiento, who saw the Inca roads whilst they were in a perfect state of
preservation, mentions them in a _Relacion_ which he wrote, and which
long lay buried in the Library of the Escurial. “How,” he asks, “could a
people, unacquainted with the use of iron, have constructed such great
and magnificent roads, (_caminos tan grandes, y tan sovervios_), and in
regions so elevated as the countries between Cuzco and Quito, and
between Cuzco and the coast of Chili?” “The Emperor Charles,” he adds,
“with all his power, could not have accomplished even a part of what was
done by the well-directed Government of the Incas, and the obedient race
of people under its rule.” Hernando Pizarro, the most educated of the
three brothers, who expiated his misdeeds by twenty years of captivity
in Medina del Campo, and who died at 100 years of age, in the odour of
sanctity (_en olor de Santidad_), observes, alluding to the Inca roads:
“Throughout the whole of Christendom, no such roads are to be seen as
those which we here admire.” Cuzco and Quito, the two principal capitals
of the Incas, are situated in a direct line south-south-east,
north-north-west in reference the one to the other. Their distance
apart, without calculating the many windings of the road, is 1000 miles;
including the windings of the road, the distance is stated by Garcilaso
de la Vega, and other Conquistadores, to be “500 Spanish leguas.”
Notwithstanding this vast distance, we are informed, on the
unquestionable testimony of the Licentiate Polo de Ondegardo, that
Huayna Capac, whose father conquered Quito, caused certain materials to
be conveyed thither from Cuzco, for the erection of the royal buildings,
(the Inca dwellings). In Quito, I found this tradition still current
among the natives.
When, in the form of the earth, nature presents to man formidable
difficulties to contend against, those very difficulties serve to
stimulate the energy and courage of enterprising races of people. Under
the despotic centralizing system of the Inca Government, security and
rapidity of communication, especially in relation to the movement of
troops, were matters of urgent state necessity. Hence the construction
of great roads, and the establishment of very excellent postal
arrangements by the Peruvians. Among nations in the most various degrees
of civilization, national energy is frequently observed to manifest
itself, as it were by preference, in some special direction; but the
advancement consequent on this sort of partial exertion, however
strikingly exhibited, by no means affords a criterion of the general
cultivation of a people. Egyptians, Greeks[117], Etruscans, and Romans,
Chinese, Japanese, and Indians, present examples of these contrasts. It
would be difficult to determine, what space of time may have been
occupied in the execution of the Peruvian roads. Those great works, in
the northern part of the Inca Empire, on the table-land of Quito, must
certainly have been completed in less than thirty or thirty-five years;
that is to say, in the short interval between the defeat of the Ruler of
Quito, and the death of the Inca Huayna Capac. With respect to the
southern, or those specially styled the Peruvian roads, the period of
their formation is involved in complete obscurity.
The date of the mysterious appearance of Manco Capac is usually fixed
400 years prior to the arrival of Francisco Pizarro, (who landed on the
Island of Puná in the year 1532), consequently, about the middle of the
twelfth century, and full 200 years before the foundation of the city of
Mexico (Tenochtitlan); but instead of 400 years, some Spanish writers
represent the interval between Manco Capac and Pizarro to have been 500,
or even 550 years. However the history of the Peruvian empire records
only thirteen reigning princes of the Inca dynasty, which, as Prescott
justly observes, is not a number sufficient to fill up so long a period
as 550, or even 400 years. Quezalcoatl, Botchia, and Manco Capac, are
the three mythical beings, with whom are connected the earliest traces
of cultivation among the Aztecs, the Muyscas, (properly Chibchas), and
the Peruvians. Quezalcoatl, who is described as bearded and clothed in
black, was High Priest of Tula, and afterwards a penitent, dwelling on a
mountain near Tlaxapuchicalco. He is represented as having come from the
coast of Panuco; and, therefore, from the eastern part of Anahuac, on
the Mexican table-land. Botchia, or rather the bearded, long-robed
Nemterequeteba[118], (literally messenger of God, a Buddha of the
Muyscas), came from the grassy steppes eastward of the Andes chain, to
the table-lands of Bogotá. Before the time of Manco Capac, some degree
of civilization already existed on the picturesque shores of the Lake of
Titicaca. The fortress of Cuzco, on the hill of Sacsahuaman, was built
on the model of the more ancient structures of Tiahuanaco. In like
manner, the Aztecs imitated the pyramidal buildings of the Toltecs, and
the latter copied those of the Olmecs (Hulmecs); and thus, by degrees,
we arrive at historic ground in Mexico as early as the sixth century of
the Christian era. According to Siguença, the Toltecic Step Pyramid of
Cholula, was copied from the Hulmecic Step Pyramid of Teotihuacan. Thus,
through every stage of civilization, we pass into an earlier one, and as
human intelligence was not aroused simultaneously in both continents, we
find that in every nation the imaginative domain of mythology
immediately preceded the period of historical knowledge.
The early Spanish Conquistadores were filled with admiration on first
beholding the roads and aqueducts of the Peruvians; yet not only did
they neglect the preservation of those great works, but they even
wantonly destroyed them. As a natural consequence of the destruction of
the aqueducts, the soil was rendered unfertile by the want of
irrigation. Nevertheless, those works, as well as the roads, were
demolished for the sake of obtaining stones ready hewn for the erection
of new buildings; and the traces of this devastation are more observable
near the sea-coast, than on the ridges of the Andes, or in the deeply
cleft valleys with which that mountain-chain is intersected. During our
long day’s journey from the syenitic rocks of Zaulac to the valley of
San Felipe, (rich in fossil remains and situated at the foot of the icy
Paramo of Yamoca), we had no less than twenty-seven times to ford the
Rio de Guancabamba, which falls into the Amazon. We were compelled to do
this on account of the numerous sinuosities of the stream, whilst on the
brow of a steep precipice near us, we had continually within our sight
the vestiges of the rectilinear Inca road, with its Tambos. The little
mountain stream, the Rio de Guancabamba, is not more than from 120 to
150 feet broad; yet so strong is the current, that our heavily laden
mules were in continual danger of being swept away by it. The mules
carried our manuscripts, our dried plants, and all the other objects
which we had been a whole year engaged in collecting; therefore, every
time that we crossed the stream, we stood on one of the banks in a state
of anxious suspense until the long train of our beasts of burthen,
eighteen or twenty in number, were fairly out of danger.
This same Rio de Guancabamba, which in the lower part of its course has
many falls, is the channel for a curious mode of conveying
correspondence from the coast of the Pacific. For the expeditious
transmission of the few letters that are sent from Truxillo to the
province of Jaen de Bracamoros, they are despatched by a swimming
courier, or, as he is called by the people of the country, “_el correo
que nada_.” This courier, who is usually a young Indian, swims in two
days from Pomahuaca to Tomependa; first proceeding by the Rio de
Chamaya, (the name given to the lower part of the Rio de Guancabamba)
and then by the Amazon river. The few letters of which he is the bearer,
he carefully wraps in a large cotton handkerchief, which he rolls round
his head in the form of a turban. On arriving at those parts of the
rivers in which there are falls or rapids, he lands, and goes by a
circuitous route through the woods. When wearied by long-continued
swimming, he rests by throwing one arm on a plank of a light kind of
wood of the family of the Bombaceæ, called by the Peruvians _Ceiba_, or
_Palo de balsa_. Sometimes the swimming courier takes with him a friend
to bear him company. Neither troubles himself about provisions, as they
are always sure of a hospitable reception in the huts which are
surrounded by abundant fruit-trees in the beautiful Huertas of Pucara
and Cavico.
Fortunately, the river is free from crocodiles, which are first met with
in the upper course of the Amazon, below the cataract of Mayasi; for the
slothful animal prefers to live in the more tranquil waters. According
to my calculation, the Rio de Chamaya has a fall[119] of 1778 feet, in
the short distance of 52 geographical miles; that is to say, measuring
from the Ford (_Paso_) de Pucara, to the point where the Chamaya
disembogues in the river Amazon, below the village of Choros. The
Governor of the province Jaen de Bracamoros assured me, that letters
sent by the singular water post conveyance just mentioned, are seldom
either wetted or lost. After my return from Mexico, I myself received,
when in Paris, letters from Tomependa, which had been transmitted in
this manner. Many of the wild Indian tribes, who dwell on the shores of
the Upper Amazon, perform their journeys in a similar manner; swimming
sociably down the stream in parties. On one occasion, I saw the heads of
thirty or forty individuals, men, women, and children, of the tribe of
the Xibaros, as they floated down the stream on their way to Tomependa.
The _Correo que nada_ returns by land, taking the difficult route of the
Paramo del Paredon.
On approaching the hot climate of the basin of the Amazon, the aspect of
beautiful and occasionally very luxuriant vegetation delights the eye.
Not even in the Canary Islands, nor on the warm coasts of Cumana and
Caracas, had we beheld finer orange-trees than those which we met with
in the Huertas de Pucara. They consisted chiefly of the sweet
orange-tree (_Citrus aurantium_, Risso); the bitter orange-tree (_Citrus
vulgaris_, Risso) was less numerous. These trees, laden with their
golden fruit in thousands, attain there a height of between 60 and 70
feet; and their branches, instead of growing in such a way as to give
the trees rounded tops or crowns, shoot straight up like those of the
laurel. Near the ford of Cavico a very unexpected sight surprised us. We
saw a grove of small trees, about 18 or 19 feet high, the leaves of
which, instead of being green, appeared to be of a rose colour. This
proved to be a new species of Bougainvillæa, a genus first determined by
Jussieu the elder, from a Brazilian specimen in Commerson’s _Herbarium_.
But on a nearer approach we found that these trees were really without
leaves, properly so called, and that what, from a distant view, we had
mistaken for leaves, were bright rose-coloured bracts. Owing to the
purity and freshness of the colour, the effect was totally different
from that of the hue which so pleasingly clothes many of our
forest-trees in autumn. The Rhopala ferruginea, a species of the South
African family of the Proteaceæ, has found its way hither, having
descended from the cool heights of the Paramo de Yamoca into the warm
plains of the Chamaya. We likewise frequently saw here the beautifully
pinnated Porlieria hygrometrica, one of the Zygophylleæ, which, by the
closing of its leaves, indicates change of weather, generally the
approach of rain. This plant is more certain in its tokens than any of
the Mimosaceæ, and it very rarely deceived us.
At Chamaya we found rafts (_balsas_) in readiness to convey us to
Tomependa, where we wished to determine the difference of longitude
between Quito and the mouth of the Chinchipe; a point of some importance
to the geography of South America on account of an old observation of La
Condamine[120]. We slept as usual in the open air, and our resting-place
was on the sandy shore called the Playa de Guayanchi, at the confluence
of the Rio de Chamaya and the Amazon. Next morning we proceeded down the
latter river as far as the Cataract and the Narrows, or the Pongo of
Rentema. Pongo, the name given to River Narrows by the natives, is a
corruption of the word _Puncu_, which, in the Quichua language,
signifies a door or gate. In the Pongo de Rentema huge masses of rock
consisting of coarse-grained sandstone (conglomerate), rise up like
towers and form a rocky dam across the stream. I measured a base line on
the flat sandy shore, and found that the Amazon River, which, further
eastwards, spreads into such mighty width, is, at Tomependa, scarcely
1400 feet broad. In the celebrated River Narrows, called the Pongo de
Manseriche, between Santiago and San Borja, the breadth is less than 160
feet. The Pongo de Manseriche is formed by a mountain ravine, in some
parts of which the overhanging rocks, roofed by a canopy of foliage,
permit only a feeble light to penetrate, and by the force of the current
all the drift-wood, consisting of trunks of trees in countless numbers,
is broken and dashed to atoms. The rocks by which all these Pongos are
formed, have, in the course of centuries, undergone many changes. The
Pongo de Rentema, which I have mentioned above, was, a year before my
visit to it, in part broken up by a high flood; indeed the inhabitants
of the shores of the Amazon still preserve by tradition a lively
recollection of the sudden fall of the once lofty masses of rock along
the whole length of the Pongo. This fall took place in the early part of
the last century, and the debris suddenly dammed up the river and
impeded the current. The consequence was, that the inhabitants of the
village of Puyaya, situated at the lower part of the Pongo de Rentema,
were filled with alarm on beholding the dry bed of the river; but, after
the lapse of a few hours, the waters recovered their usual course. There
appears to be no reason for believing that these remarkable phenomena
are occasioned by earthquakes. The river, which has a very strong
current, seems, as it were, to be incessantly labouring to improve its
bed. Of the force of its efforts some idea may be formed from the fact
that, notwithstanding its vast breadth, it sometimes rises upwards of 26
feet above its ordinary level in the space of 20 or 30 hours.
We remained seventeen days in the hot valley of the Marañon or the
Amazon River. To proceed from thence to the coast of the Pacific it is
necessary to cross the chain of the Andes, between Micuipampa and
Caxamarca (in 6° 57′ S. lat., and 78° 34′ W. long.), at a point where,
according to my observations, it is intersected by the magnetic equator.
At a still higher elevation are situated the celebrated silver mines of
Chota. Then, after having passed the ancient Caxamarca (the scene, 316
years ago, of the most sanguinary drama in the history of the Spanish
Conquista), and also Aroma and Guangamarca, the route descends, with
some interruptions, into the Peruvian lowlands. Here, as in nearly all
parts of the Andes, as well as of the Mexican Mountains, the highest
points are picturesquely marked by tower-like masses of erupted porphyry
and trachyte, the former frequently presenting the effect of immense
columns. In some places these masses give a rugged cliff-like aspect to
the mountain ridges; and in other places they assume the form of domes
or cupolas. They have here broken through a formation, which, in South
America, is extensively developed on both sides of the equator, and
which Leopold von Buch, after profound research, has pronounced to be
cretaceous. Between Guambos and Montan, nearly 12,800 feet above the
level of the sea, we found marine fossils[121] (Ammonites about 15
inches in diameter, the large Pecten alatus, oyster-shells, Echini,
Isocardias, and Exogyra polygona). A species of Cidaris, which, in the
opinion of Leopold von Buch, does not differ from one found by
Brongniart in the old chalk at the Perte du Rhone, we collected in the
basin of the Amazon at Tomependa, and likewise at Micuipampa; that is to
say, at elevations differing the one from the other by no less than
10,550 feet. In like manner, in the Amuich chain of the Caucasian
Daghestan, the chalk of the banks of the Sulak, scarcely 530 feet above
the level of the sea, is again found on the Tchunum, at the elevation of
full 9,600 feet, whilst, on the summit of the Shadagh Mountain, 13,950
feet high, the Ostrea diluviana (Goldf.), and the same chalk, present
themselves. Abich’s admirable Caucasian observations furnish the most
decided confirmation of Leopold von Buch’s geognostic views respecting
the cretaceous Alpine development.
From the solitary farm of Montan, surrounded with flocks of Lamas, we
ascended further southward the eastern declivity of the Cordilleras,
until we reached the level height in which is situated the argentiferous
mountain Gualgayoc, the principal site of the far-famed mines of Chota.
Night was just drawing in, and an extraordinary spectacle presented
itself to our observation. The Cerro de Gualgayoc is separated by a deep
cleft-like valley (Quebrada), from the limestone mountain Cormolache.
The latter is an isolated hornstone rock, presenting, on the northern
and western sides, almost perpendicular precipices, and containing
innumerable veins of silver, which frequently intersect and run into
each other. The highest shafts are 1540 feet above the floor of the
stoll or groundwork, called the Socabon de Espinachi. The outline of the
mountain is broken by numerous tower-like points and pyramidal notches;
and hence the summit of the Cerro de Gualgayoc bears the name of Las
Puntas. This mountain presents a most decided contrast to that
smoothness of surface which miners are accustomed to regard as
characteristic of metalliferous districts. “Our mountain,” said a
wealthy mine-owner whom we visited, “looks like an enchanted castle
(_como si fuese un castillo encantado_).” The Gualgayoc bears some
resemblance to a cone of dolomite, but it is still more like the notched
ridges of the Mountain of Monserrat in Catalonia, which I have also
visited, and which has been so pleasingly described by my brother. Not
only is the silver mountain Gualgayoc perforated on every side, and to
its very summit, by many hundred large shafts, but the mass of the
siliceous rock is cleft by natural openings, through which the dark blue
sky of these elevated regions is visible to the observer standing at the
foot of the mountain. The people of the country call these openings
windows (_Las ventanillas de Gualgayoc_). On the trachytic walls of the
volcano of Pichincha similar openings were pointed out to us, and there,
likewise, they were called windows, (_Ventanillas de Pichincha_.) The
singular aspect of the Gualgayoc is not a little increased by numerous
sheds and habitations, which lie scattered like nests over the
fortress-looking mountain wherever a level spot admits of their
erection. The miners carry the ore in baskets, down steep and dangerous
footpaths, to the places where it is submitted to the process of
amalgamation.
The value of the silver obtained from the mines of Gualgayoc during the
first thirty years of their being worked, from 1771 to 1802, is supposed
to have amounted to upwards of thirty-two millions of piastres.
Notwithstanding the hardness of the quartzose rock, the Peruvians, even
before the arrival of the Spaniards, extracted rich argentiferous galena
from the Cerro de la Lin, and also from the Chupiquiyacu; of this fact
many old shafts and galleries bear evidence. The Peruvians also obtained
gold from the Curimayo, where also natural sulphur is found in the
quartz rock as well as in the Brazilian Itacolumite. We took up our
temporary abode, in the vicinity of the mines, in the little mountain
town of Micuipampa, situated at an elevation of 11,873 feet above the
sea, and where, though only 6° 43′ from the equator, water freezes
within doors, at night, during a great part of the year. This
wilderness, almost devoid of vegetation, is inhabited by 3000 or 4000
persons, who are supplied with articles of food from the warm valleys,
as they themselves can grow nothing but some kinds of cabbage and salad,
the latter exceedingly good. Here, as in all the mining towns of Peru,
_ennui_ drives the richer inhabitants, who, however, are not the best
informed class, to the dangerous diversions of cards and dice. The
consequence is, that the wealth thus quickly won is still more quickly
spent. Here one is continually reminded of the anecdote related of one
of the soldiers of Pizarro’s army, who complained that he had lost in
one night’s play, “a large piece of the sun,” meaning a plate of gold
which he had obtained at the plunder of the Temple of Cuzco. At
Micuipampa the thermometer, at eight in the morning, stood at 34°.2, and
at noon, at 47°.8 Fahrenheit. Among the thin Ichhu-grass (possibly our
Stipa eriostachya), we found a beautiful Calceolaria (_C.
Sibthorpioides_), which we should not have expected to see at such an
elevation.
Near the town of Micuipampa there is a high plain called the Llano or
the Pampa de Navar. In this plain there have been found, extending over
a surface of more than four English square miles, and immediately under
the turf, immense masses of red gold ore and wire-like threads of pure
silver. These are called by the Peruvian miners _remolinos_, _clavos_,
and _vetas manteadas_, and they are overgrown by the roots of the Alpine
grasses. Another level plain, to the west of the Purgatorio, and near
the Quebrada de Chiquera, is called the Choropampa (the Muscle-Shell
Plain), the word _churu_ signifying in the Quichua language a muscle or
cockle, particularly a small eatable kind, which the people of the
country now distinguish by their Spanish names _hostion_ or _mexillon_.
The name Choropampa refers to fossils of the cretaceous formation, which
in this plain are found in such immense numbers that at an early period
they attracted the attention of the natives. In the Choropampa there has
been found near the surface of the earth, a rich mass of pure gold, spun
round, as it were, with threads of silver. This fact proves how slight
may be the affinity between many of the ores upheaved from the interior
of the earth, through fissures and veins, and the nature of the adjacent
rock, and how little relative antiquity exists between them and that of
the formation they have broken through. The rock of the Gualgayoc, as
well as that of the Fuentestiana, is very watery, whilst in the
Purgatorio perfect dryness prevails. In the Purgatorio, notwithstanding
the height of the strata above the sea-level, I found to my
astonishment, that the temperature in the mine was 67°.4 Fahr., whilst
in the neighbouring Mina de Guadalupe the water in the mine was about
52°.2 Fahr. In the open air the thermometer indicates only 42°.1 Fahr.,
and the miners, who labour very hard, and who work almost without
clothing, say that the subterranean heat in the Purgatorio is stifling.
The narrow path from Micuipampa to the ancient Inca city Caxamarca is
difficult even for mules. The original name of the town was Cassamarca
or Kazamarca, that is to say, the City of Frost. Marca, in the
signification of a district or town, belongs to the northern dialect of
the Chinchaysuyo, or the Chinchasuyu, whilst in the common Quichua
language the word means the story of a house, and also a fortress and
place of defence. For the space of five or six miles, the road led us
through a succession of Paramos, where we were without intermission
exposed to the fury of a boisterous wind and the sharp angular hail
peculiar to the ridges of the Andes. The height of the road is for the
most part between 9600 and 10,700 feet above the sea-level. There I had
the opportunity of making a magnetic observation of general interest,
viz., for determining the point where the north inclination of the
needle passes into the south inclination, and also the point at which
the traveller has to cross the magnetic equator[122].
Having at length reached the last of these mountain wildernesses, the
Paramo de Yanaguanga, the traveller joyfully looks down into the fertile
valley of Caxamarca. It presents a charming prospect, for the valley,
through which winds a little serpentine rivulet, is an elevated plain of
an oval form, in extent from 96 to 112 square miles. The plain bears a
resemblance to that of Bogota, and like it is probably the bed of an
ancient lake; but in Caxamarca there is wanting the myth of the
miracle-working Botchia, or Idacanzas, the High Priest of Iraca, who
opened a passage for the waters through the rocks of Tequendama.
Caxamarca lies 640 feet higher than Santa Fé de Bogota, and consequently
its elevation is equal to that of the city of Quito; but being sheltered
by surrounding mountains, its climate is much more mild and agreeable.
The soil of Caxamarca is extraordinarily fertile. In every direction are
seen cultivated fields and gardens, intersected by avenues of willows,
varieties of the Datura (bearing large red, white, and yellow flowers),
Mimosas, and beautiful Quinuar trees (our Polylepsis villosa, a Rosacea
approximating to the Alchemilla and Sanguisorba). The wheat harvest in
the Pampa de Caxamarca is, on the average, from fifteen to twenty-fold;
but the prospect of abundant crops is sometimes blighted by night
frosts, caused by the radiation of heat towards the cloudless sky, in
the strata of dry and rarefied mountain air. These night frosts are not
felt within the roofed dwellings.
Small mounds, or hillocks, of porphyry (once perhaps islands in the
ancient lake) are studded over the northern part of the plain, and break
the wide expanse of smooth sandstone. From the summit of one of these
porphyry hillocks, we enjoyed a most beautiful prospect of the Cerro de
Santa Polonia. The ancient residence of Atahuallpa is on this side,
surrounded by fruit gardens, and irrigated fields of lucern (Medicago
sativa), called by the people here _Campos de alfalfa_. In the distance
are seen columns of smoke, rising from the warm baths of Pultamarca,
which still hear the name of Baños del Inca. I found the temperature of
these sulphuric springs to be 156°.2 Fahr. Atahuallpa was accustomed to
spend a portion of each year at these baths, where some slight remains
of his palace have survived the ravages of the Conquistadores. The large
deep basin or reservoir (_el tragadero_) for supplying these baths with
water, appeared to me, judging from its regular circular form, to have
been artificially cut in the sandstone rock, over one of the fissures
whence the spring flows. Tradition records that one of the Inca’s
sedan-chairs, made of gold, was sunk in this basin, and that all
endeavours to recover it have proved vain.
Of the fortress and palace of Atahuallpa, there also remain but few
vestiges in the town, which now contains some beautiful churches. Even
before the close of the sixteenth century, the thirst for gold
accelerated the work of destruction, for, with the view of discovering
hidden treasures, walls were demolished and the foundations of buildings
recklessly undermined. The Inca’s palace is situated on a hill of
porphyry, which was originally cut and hollowed out from the surface,
completely through the rock, so that the latter surrounds the main
building like a wall. Portions of the ruins have been converted to the
purposes of a town jail and a Municipal Hall (Casa del Cabildo). The
most curious parts of these ruins, which however are not more than
between 13 and 16 feet in height, are those opposite to the monastery of
San Francisco. These vestiges, like the remains of the dwelling of the
Caciques, consist of finely-hewn blocks of free-stone, two or three feet
long, laid one upon another without cement, as in the Inca-Pilca, or
fortress of the Cañar, in the high plain of Quito.
In the porphyritic rock there is a shaft which once led to subterraneous
chambers and into a gallery, (by miners called a stoll,) from which, it
is alleged, there was a communication with the other porphyritic rocks
already mentioned;—those situated at Santa Polonia. These arrangements
bear evidence of having been made as precautions against the events of
war, and for the security of flight. The burying of treasure was a
custom very generally practised among the Peruvians in former times; and
subterraneous chambers still exist beneath many private dwellings in
Caxamarca.
We were shown some steps cut in the rock, and the footbath used by the
Inca (_el lavatorio de los pies_). The operation of washing the
sovereign’s feet was performed amidst tedious court ceremonies[123].
Several lateral structures, which, according to tradition, were allotted
to the attendants of the Inca, are built some of free-stone with gable
roofs, and others of regularly shaped bricks, alternating with layers of
siliceous cement. The buildings constructed in this last-mentioned
style, to which the Peruvians give the name of _Muros y obra de tapia_,
have little arched niches or recesses. Of their antiquity I was for a
long time doubtful, though I am now convinced that my doubts were not
well-grounded.
In the principal building, the room is still shown in which the
unfortunate Atahuallpa was confined for the space of nine months, from
the date of November, 1532[124]. The notice of the traveller is still
directed to the wall, on which he made a mark to denote to what height
he would fill the room with gold, on condition of his being set free.
This height is variously described. Xerez in the _Conquista del Peru_
(which Barcia has preserved to us), Hernando Pizarro in his letters, and
other writers, all give different accounts of it. The captive monarch
said, “that gold in bars, plates, and vessels should be piled up as high
as he could reach with his hand.” The dimensions of the room, as given
by Xerez, are equivalent to 23 feet in length and 18 in breadth.
Garcilaso de la Vega, who quitted Peru in 1560, in his twentieth year,
estimates that the treasures brought from the temples of the Sun in
Cuzco, Huaylas, Huamachuco, and Pachacamac, up to the fatal 29th of
August, 1533, the day of the Inca’s death, amounted to 3,838,000 ducados
de oro[125].
In the chapel of the town jail, which, as I have mentioned above, is
erected on the ruins of the Inca Palace, a stone, stained, as it is
alleged, with “indelible spots of blood,” is viewed with horror by the
credulous. It is placed in front of the altar, and consists of an
extremely thin slab, about 13 feet in length, probably a portion of the
porphyry or trachyte of the vicinity. To make an accurate examination of
this stone, by chipping a piece off, would not be permitted. The three
or four spots, said to be blood stains, appear in reality to be nothing
but hornblende and pyroxide run together in the fundamental mass of the
rock. The Licentiate Fernando Montesinos, though he visited Peru
scarcely a hundred years after the taking of Caxamarca, gave currency to
the fabulous story that Atahuallpa was beheaded in prison, and that
traces of blood were still visible on a stone on which the execution had
taken place. There appears no reason to question the fact, since it is
borne out by the testimony of many eye-witnesses, that the Inca
willingly allowed himself to be baptized by his cruel and fanatical
persecutor, the Dominican monk, Vicente de Valverde. He received the
name of Juan de Atahuallpa, and submitted to the ceremony of baptism to
avoid being burnt alive. He was put to death by strangulation (_el
garrote_), and his execution took place publicly in the open air.
Another tradition relates that a chapel was erected above the stone on
which Atahuallpa was strangled, and that the remains of the Inca repose
beneath that stone. Supposing this to be correct, the alleged spots of
blood are not accounted for. The fact is, however, that the body was
never deposited under the stone in question. After the performance of a
mass for the dead and other solemn funeral ceremonies, at which the
brothers Pizarro were present in deep mourning(!), the body was conveyed
first to the cemetery of the Convento de San Francisco, and afterwards
to Quito, Atahuallpa’s birthplace. This removal to Quito was in
compliance with the wish expressed by the Inca prior to his death. His
personal enemy, the crafty Rumiñavi, from artful political motives,
caused the body to be interred in Quito with great solemnity. Rumiñavi
(literally the stone-eye) received this name from a defect in one of his
eyes, occasioned by a wart. (In the Quichua language _rumi_ signifies
stone, and _ñavi_ eye.)
Descendants of the Inca still dwell in Caxamarca, amidst the dreary
architectural ruins of departed splendour. These descendants are the
family of the Indian Cacique, or, as he is called in the Quichua
language, the Curaca Astorpilca. They live in great poverty, but
nevertheless contented and resigned to their hard and unmerited fate.
Their descent from Atahuallpa, through the female line, has never been a
doubtful question in Caxamarca; but traces of beard would seem to
indicate some admixture of Spanish blood. Huascar and Atahuallpa, two
sons of the great Huayna Capac (who for a child of the Sun was somewhat
disposed to free-thinking)[126], reigned in succession before the
invasion of the Spaniards. Neither of these two princes left any
acknowledged male heirs. In the plains of Quipaypan, Huascar was made
prisoner by Atahuallpa, by whose order he was shortly after secretly put
to death. Atahuallpa had two other brothers. One was the insignificant
youth Toparca, who in the autumn of 1533 Pizarro caused to be crowned as
Inca; and the other was the enterprising Manco Capac, who was likewise
crowned, but who afterwards rebelled: neither of these two princes left
any known male issue. Atahuallpa indeed left two children; one a son,
who received in Christian baptism the name of Don Francisco, and who
died young; the other a daughter, Doña Angelina, who became the mistress
of Francisco Pizarro, with whom she led a wild camp life. Doña Angelina
had a son by Pizarro, and to this grandson of the slaughtered monarch
the Conqueror was fondly attached. Besides the family of Astorpilca,
with whom I became acquainted in Caxamarca, the families of Carguaraicos
and Titu-Buscamayca were, at the time I visited Peru, regarded as
descendants of the Inca dynasty. The race of Buscamayca has since that
time become extinct.
The son of the Cacique Astorpilca, an interesting and amiable youth of
seventeen, conducted us over the ruins of the ancient palace. Though
living in the utmost poverty, his imagination was filled with images of
the subterranean splendour and the golden treasures which, he assured
us, lay hidden beneath the heaps of rubbish over which we were treading.
He told us that one of his ancestors once blindfolded the eyes of his
wife, and then, through many intricate passages cut in the rock, led her
down into the subterranean gardens of the Inca. There the lady beheld,
skilfully imitated in the purest gold, trees laden with leaves and
fruit, with birds perched on their branches. Among other things, she saw
Atahuallpa’s gold sedan-chair (_una de las andas_) which had been so
long searched for in vain, and which is alleged to have sunk in the
basin at the Baths of Pultamarca. The husband commanded his wife not to
touch any of these enchanted treasures, reminding her that the period
fixed for the restoration of the Inca empire had not yet arrived, and
that whosoever should touch any of the treasures would perish that same
night. These golden dreams and fancies of the youth were founded on
recollections and traditions transmitted from remote times. Golden
gardens, such as those alluded to (_Jardines ó huertas de oro_), have
been described by various writers who allege that they actually saw
them; viz., by Cieza de Leon, Parmento, Garcilaso, and other early
historians of the Conquista. They are said to have existed beneath the
Temple of the Sun at Cuzco, at Caxamarca, and in the lovely valley of
Yucay, which was a favourite seat of the sovereign family. In places in
which the golden Huertas were not under ground, but in the open air,
living plants were mingled with the artificial ones. Among the latter,
particular mention is always made of the high shoots of maize and the
maize-cobs (_mazorcas_) as having been most successfully imitated.
The son of Astorpilca assured me that underground, a little to the right
of the spot on which I then stood, there was a large Datura tree, or
Guanto, in full flower, exquisitely made of gold wire and plates of
gold, and that its branches overspread the Inca’s chair. The morbid
faith with which the youth asserted his belief in this fabulous story,
made a profound and melancholy impression on me. These illusions are
cherished among the people here, as affording them consolation amidst
great privation and earthly suffering. I said to the lad, “Since you and
your parents so firmly believe in the existence of these gardens, do you
not, in your poverty, sometimes feel a wish to dig for the treasures
that lie so near you?” The young Peruvian’s answer was so simple and so
expressive of the quiet resignation peculiar to the aboriginal
inhabitants of the country, that I noted it down in Spanish in my
Journal. “Such a desire (_tal antojo_),” said he, “never comes to us. My
father says that it would be sinful (_que fuese pecado_). If we had the
golden branches, with all their golden fruits, our white neighbours
would hate us and injure us. We have a little field and good wheat
(_buen trigo_).” Few of my readers will I trust be displeased that I
have recalled here the words of young Astorpilca and his golden dreams.
An idea generally spread and firmly believed among the natives is, that
it would be criminal to dig up and take possession of treasures which
may have belonged to the Incas, and that such a proceeding would bring
misfortune upon the whole Peruvian race. This idea is closely connected
with that of the restoration of the Inca dynasty, an event which is
still expected, and which in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries was
looked forward to with especial confidence. Oppressed nations always
fondly hope for the day of their emancipation, and for the
re-establishment of their old forms of government. The flight of Manco
Inca, the brother of Atahuallpa, who retreated into the forests of
Vilcapampa, on the declivity of the Eastern Cordillera; and the abode of
Sayri Tapac and Inca Tupac Amaru in those wildernesses, are events which
have left lasting recollections in the minds of the people. It is
believed that descendants of the dethroned dynasty settled still further
eastward in Guiana, between the rivers Apurimac and Beni. These notions
were strengthened by the myth of _el Dorado_ and the golden city of
Manoa, which popular credulity carried from the west and propagated
eastward. So greatly was the imagination of Sir Walter Raleigh inflamed
by these dreams, that he raised an expedition in the hope of conquering
“the imperial and golden city.” There he proposed to establish a
garrison of three or four thousand English, and to levy from “the
Emperor of Guiana, a descendant of Huayna Capac, and who holds his Court
with the same magnificence, an annual tribute of £300,000 sterling, as
the price of the promised restoration to the throne in Cuzco and
Caxamarca.” Wherever the Peruvian Quichua language prevails, traces of
the expected restoration of the Inca rule[127] exist in the minds of
many of the natives possessing any knowledge of their national history.
We remained five days in the capital of the Inca Atahuallpa, which, at
that time, numbered only 7000 or 8000 inhabitants. Our departure was
delayed by the necessity of obtaining a great number of mules to convey
our collections, and of selecting careful guides to conduct us across
the chain of the Andes to the entrance of the long but narrow Peruvian
sandy desert called the _Desierto de Sechura_. Our route across the
Cordilleras lay from north-east to south-west. Having passed over the
old bed of the lake, on the pleasant level height of Caxamarca, we
ascended an eminence at an elevation of scarcely 10,230 feet: and we
were then surprised by the sight of two strangely-shaped porphyritic
mounds called the Aroma and the Cunturcaga. The latter is a favourite
haunt of the gigantic vulture, which we call the Condor; _kacca_, in the
Quichua language, signifying _the rocks_. The porphyritic heights just
mentioned are in the form of columns having five, six, or seven sides,
from 37 to 42 feet in height, and some of them are crooked and bent as
if in joints. Those which crown the Cerro Aroma are remarkably
picturesque. The peculiar distribution of the columns, which are ranged
in rows one above another, and frequently converging, presents the
appearance of a two-storied building, roofed by a dome of massive rock,
which is not columnar. These erupted masses of porphyry and trachyte
are, as I have on a former occasion remarked, characteristic of the
ridges of the Andes, to which they impart a physiognomy totally
different from that of the Swiss Alps, the Pyrenees, and the Siberian
Altai.
From Cunturcaga and Aroma we descended, by a zigzag route, a steep
declivity of 6400 feet into the cleft-like valley of the Magdalena, the
lowest part of which is 4260 feet above the sea level. Here there is an
Indian village consisting of a few miserable huts, surrounded by the
same species of cotton-trees (_Bombax discolor_), which we first
observed on the banks of the Amazon. The scanty vegetation of the valley
of Magdalena somewhat resembles that of the province of Jaen de
Bracamoros, but we missed, with regret, the red groves of Bougainvillæa.
Magdalena is one of the deepest valleys I have seen in the chain of the
Andes. It is a decided cleft, running transversely from east to west,
and bounded on each side by the Altos of Aroma and Guangamarca. Here
recommences the same quartz formation which was so long enigmatical to
me. We had previously observed it in the Paramo de Yanaguanga, between
Micuipampa and Caxamarca, at an elevation of 11,722 feet, and on the
western declivity of the Cordillera it attains the thickness of many
thousand feet. Since Leopold von Buch has proved that the cretaceous
formation is widely extended, even in the highest chains of the Andes,
and on both sides of the isthmus of Panama, it may be concluded that the
quartz formation, of which I have just made mention (perhaps transformed
in its texture by the action of volcanic power), belongs to the free
sandstone intervening between the inner chalk and the gault and
greensand. From the genial valley of the Magdalena we again proceeded
westward, and, for the space of two hours and a half, we ascended a
steep wall of rock 5116 feet high, which rises opposite to the
porphyritic groups of the Alto de Aroma. In this ascent we felt the
change of temperature the more sensibly, as the rocky acclivity was
frequently overhung with cold mist.
After having travelled for eighteen months without intermission, within
the restricted boundaries of the interior of a mountainous country, we
felt an ardent desire to enjoy a view of the open sea, a desire which
was heightened by repeated disappointments. Looking from the summit of
the volcano of Pichincha, over the thick forests of the Provincia de las
Esmeraldas, no sea horizon is distinctly discernible owing to the great
distance and the height of the point of view. It is like looking down
from a balloon into empty space; the fancy divines objects which the eye
cannot distinguish. Afterwards, when, between Loxa and Guancabamba, we
arrived at the Paramo de Guamani (where there are many ruins of
buildings of the times of the Incas), our mule-drivers confidently
assured us that, beyond the plain, on the other side of the low
districts of Piura and Lambajeque, we should have a view of the sea. But
a thick mist overhung the plain and obscured the distant coast. We
beheld only variously-shaped masses of rock, now rising like islands
above the waving sea of mist, and now vanishing. It was a view similar
to that which we had from the Peak of Teneriffe. We experienced a
similar disappointment whilst proceeding through the Andes Pass of
Guangamarca, which I am now describing. Whilst we toiled along the
ridges of the mighty mountain, with expectation on the stretch, our
guides, who were not very well acquainted with the way, repeatedly
assured us that, after proceeding another mile, our hopes would be
fulfilled. The stratum of mist, in which we were enveloped, seemed
sometimes to disperse for a moment, but whenever that happened, our view
was bounded by intervening heights.
The desire which we feel to behold certain objects is not excited solely
by their grandeur, their beauty, or their importance. In each individual
this desire is interwoven with pleasing impressions of youth, with early
predilections for particular pursuits, with the inclination for
travelling, and the love of an active life. In proportion as the
fulfilment of a wish may have appeared improbable, its realization
affords the greater pleasure. The traveller enjoys, in anticipation, the
happy moment when he shall first behold the constellation of the Cross,
and the Magellanic clouds circling over the South Pole; when he shall
come in sight of the snow of the Chimborazo, and of the column of smoke
ascending from the volcano of Quito; when, for the first time, he shall
gaze on a grove of tree-ferns, or on the wide expanse of the Pacific
Ocean. The days on which such wishes are fulfilled mark epochs in life,
and create indelible impressions; exciting feelings which require not to
be accounted for by any process of reasoning. The longing wish I felt to
behold the Pacific from the lofty ridges of the Andes was mingled with
recollections of the interest with which, as a boy, I had dwelt on the
narrative of the adventurous expedition of Vasco Nunez de Balboa[128].
That happy man, whose track Pizarro followed, was the first to behold,
from the heights of Quarequa, on the isthmus of Panama, the eastern part
of the great “South Sea.” The reedy shores of the Caspian, viewed from
the point whence I first beheld them, viz., from the Delta formed by the
mouths of the Volga, cannot certainly be called picturesque, yet the
delight I felt on first beholding them, was enhanced by the recollection
that, in my very earliest childhood, I had been taught to observe, on
the map, the form of the Asiatic inland sea. The impressions aroused
within us in early childhood, or excited by the accidental circumstances
of life[129], frequently, in after years, take a graver direction, and
become stimulants to scientific labours and great enterprises.
After passing over many undulations of ground, on the rugged mountain
ridges, we at length reached the highest point of the Alto de
Guangamarca. The sky, which had so long been obscured, now suddenly
brightened. A sharp south-west breeze dispersed the veil of mist; and
the dark blue canopy of heaven was seen between the narrow lines of the
highest feathery clouds. The whole western declivity of the Cordillera
(adjacent to Chorillos and Cascas), covered with huge blocks of quartz
13 or 15 feet long; and the plains of Chala and Molinos, as far as the
sea coast near Truxillo, lay extended before our eyes, with a wonderful
effect of apparent proximity. We now, for the first time, commanded a
view of the Pacific. We saw it distinctly; reflecting along the line of
the coast an immense mass of light, and rising in immeasurable expanse
until bounded by the clearly-defined horizon. The delight which my
companions, Bonpland and Carlos Montufar, shared with me in viewing this
prospect, caused us to forget to open the barometer on the Alto de
Guangamarca. According to a calculation which we made at a place
somewhat lower down (an isolated farm called the Hato de Guangamarca),
the point at which we first gained a view of the ocean, must have been
at no greater an elevation than between 9380 and 9600 feet.
The view of the Pacific was solemnly impressive to one, who, like
myself, was greatly indebted for the formation of his mind, and the
direction given to his tastes and aspirations, to one of the companions
of Captain Cook. I made known the general outline of my travelling
schemes to John Forster, when I had the advantage of visiting England
under his guidance, now more than half a century ago. Forster’s charming
pictures of Otaheite had awakened throughout Northern Europe a deep
interest (mingled with a sort of romantic longing), in favour of the
islands of the Pacific Ocean. At that period, when but few Europeans had
been fortunate enough to visit those islands, I cherished the hope of
seeing them, at least in part; for the object of my visit to Lima was
twofold: first, to observe the transit of Mercury over the solar disc,
and secondly, to fulfil a promise I had made to Captain Baudin, on my
departure from Paris. This promise was to join him in the
circumnavigatory voyage which he was to undertake as soon as the French
Republic could furnish the necessary funds.
American papers circulated in the Antilles announced that the two French
corvettes, _Le Géographe_ and _Le Naturaliste_, were to sail round Cape
Horn, and to touch at Callao de Lima. This information, which I received
when in the Havannah, after having completed my Orinoco journey, caused
me to relinquish my original plan of proceeding through Mexico to the
Philippines. I lost no time in engaging a ship to convey me from Cuba to
Carthagena de Indias. But Captain Baudin’s expedition took quite a
different course from that which had been expected and announced.
Instead of proceeding by the way of Cape Horn, as had been intended at
the time when it was agreed that Bonpland and I should join it, the
expedition sailed round the Cape of Good Hope. One of the objects of my
visit to Peru, and of my last journey across the chain of the Andes, was
thus thwarted; but I had the singular good fortune, at a very
unfavourable season of the year, in the misty regions of Lower Peru, to
enjoy a clear bright day. In Callao I observed the passage of Mercury
over the sun’s disc, an observation of some importance in aiding the
accurate determination of the longitude of Lima[130], and of the
south-western part of the new continent. Thus, amidst the serious
troubles and disappointments of life, there may often be found a grain
of consolation.