inhabitants, but at present it has no more than one-fifth of that
number; for, like all of the Central American cities, its population has
been reduced since the independence of the country, and, like the most
of them, it is in a state of decay. Everything is dilapidated, and
nothing is ever repaired. No sign of prosperity appears anywhere.
Commercial stagnation has been its normal condition for sixty years, and
the indolence and indifference of the people has not been disturbed for
that period, except by political insurrections. No one seems to have
anything to do. The aristocrats swing lazily in their hammocks, or
discuss politics over the counters of the _tiendas_, or at the club,
while the poor beg in the streets, and manage to sustain life upon the
fruits which Nature has so profligately showered upon them. Nowhere
upon the earth’s surface exist greater inducements to labor, nowhere can
so much be produced with so little effort; and the vast resources of the
country present the most tempting opportunity for capital and
enterprise, for nearly every acre of the land is susceptible to some
sort of profitable development.
[Illustration: THE TRAIL TO THE CAPITAL.]
The area of Honduras is about the same as that of Ohio, and the
inhabitants number from three to four hundred thousand, according to the
guess of the well informed, but no census has been taken for a quarter
of a century, and the last enumeration was so inaccurate as to discredit
itself. In ancient times the population must have been very dense.
It is as difficult and as long a journey to reach the capital of
Honduras from New York as the capital of Siam or Siberia. One must go by
steamer to Truxillo, the chief Atlantic port, or to Amapala, on the Bay
of Fonseca, on the Pacific side--a voyage of from fifteen to twenty days
by either route--and then ride for twelve days on mule-back over the
mountains, without any of the accommodations or comforts known to modern
travel, and not even one clean or comfortable inn. When the capital is
reached there is no hotel to stop at, and one must trespass upon the
hospitality of the citizens, or seek some boarding-place through the aid
of a local merchant or priest.
[Illustration: A GLIMPSE OF THE INTERIOR.]
The President is General Bogran, a man who came into power by a peaceful
revolution in 1885, to succeed Marco A. Soto, who fled that year to San
Francisco, and from there sent his resignation to Congress. Bogran is a
man of brains and progressive ideas, possessing more of the modern
spirit
[Illustration: VIEW OF THE CAPITAL.]
and broader views than most of his contemporaries, and if he is
permitted to carry out his plans Honduras will make rapid speed in the
development of her great natural resources. He is offering tempting
inducements to foreign capital and immigration, has given liberal
concessions to Americans who desire to enter the country, and is wisely
endeavoring to induce some one to construct the Interoceanic Railway,
which was surveyed fifty years ago, and twenty-seven miles of which has
already been built and at intervals operated. But the discontented
element in the country, in league with his predecessor, who now lives in
New York, are surrounding him with obstacles and harassing him with all
sorts of embarrassments, so that his success is made doubtful. Bogran
spends very little of his time at Comayagua, and the seat of government
has been removed to Tegucigalpa, the largest town in the country, as
well as its commercial metropolis. Here the Congress sits also, and the
place is to all intents and purposes the capital.
[Illustration: A POPULAR THOROUGHFARE.]
The cathedral of Comayagua is by far the finest building in the country,
being an excellent specimen of the semimoresque style, which was so
popular among the Spanish provinces. Its walls and roof are of the most
solid masonry, but are considerably marred by the revolutions through
which the country has passed, for in nearly all of them the cathedral
has been used as a fortress and subjected to a shower of lead. Near the
cathedral stands a monument originally intended to honor one of the
Spanish kings, but after the independence of the country was established
the royal symbols were erased by the order of one of the Presidents,
the inscription was chiselled off, and the obelisk now stands to
commemorate independence. This monument is the place of public
execution, and criminals sentenced to death are made to sit blindfolded
at its base, where they are shot by the soldiers.
[Illustration: CHURCH OF MERCED AND INDEPENDENCE MONUMENT, COMAYAGUA.]
In November, 1886, General Delgrado, the leader of a revolution, with
four of his comrades, was executed here. It was the desire of President
Bogran to spare Delgrado’s life, and any pretext would have been adopted
to save him if the honor of the country could have been vindicated, but
he was convicted of treason, and sentenced by the courts to die. The
President offered to pardon him if he would take the oath of allegiance
and swear never to engage in revolutionary proceedings again; but the
old soldier would not even accept life on these terms, and much to the
regret of the President,
[Illustration: RUBBER HUNTERS.]
against whom he had conspired, and the better portion of the people, the
sentence had to be executed. On the morning of the day fixed by the
courts, the five men were led from the prison to the Church of La
Merced, where the last rites were administered to them, and were then
conducted to the Peace Monument, where a file of soldiers was drawn up
with loaded rifles. The last word of Delgrado was a request that he
might give the command to fire, and he did so as coolly as if he had
been on dress parade.
[Illustration: THE PITA PLANT.]
The residents of Comayagua are chiefly the owners of haciendas situated
in the neighborhood, or small tradesmen, with four or five thousand lazy
and worthless half-breeds, who live upon _tortillas_, or corn-cakes, and
the fruits in which the country abounds. The most conspicuous feature of
their life is the filth that surrounds them, and the freedom with which
their pigs and chickens enjoy the shelter of the dwelling. A few stone
jars of native make, a few rude calabashes, a couple of hammocks, and a
few broken articles of furniture, constitute the equipment of a peon’s
house. The man of the house swings in a hammock while his spouse brings
water from the stream in a large stone jar upon her head, and the pigs
and chickens and children lie upon the floor indiscriminately mixed. The
pigs take the tortillas out of the mouths of the children, and the
compliment is returned, while the chickens forage upon every article of
food within their reach.
Both cotton and silk grow upon trees, the vegetable silk being of very
fine and soft fibre, and frequently used by the natives in the
manufacture of robosas, serapas, and other articles of wear, while the
product of the cotton-tree is utilized in a similar manner.
[Illustration: HARVESTING ONE OF THE STAPLES.]
There is said to be a greater variety of medicinal plants in Honduras
than in any country on the globe, and the botany of the country contains
nearly every tree and shrub and flower that is known to man. They are
all of spontaneous growth, and might be made a prolific source of
wealth, but are entirely neglected. There is one famous weed, called by
the natives _el agrio_, which is a certain cure for sunstroke, or for
prostration from exposure to the sun or over-exertion, and is used for
both men and animals. As it is excessively bitter, the leaf of the plant
is wound about the bit of the bridle of a sunstruck horse, and the
animal gradually sucks the juice from it. The leaves are dried in the
shade, and a tea made of them by the natives to cure sunstroke and other
diseases of the brain or blood.
The interior of the country is beyond the reach of markets, because of
the absence of transportation facilities. In this respect the people are
no further advanced than they were two hundred years ago. The only
wagon-roads in the country are one built by a party of Americans near
San Pedro, in the west, and a few miles of a national highway that a
century ago was begun for the purpose of connecting Amapala, the Pacific
port, with Tegucigalpa.
[Illustration: THE FLOATING POPULATION.]
Honduras has the finest fluvial system in Central America. There are few
countries with such available water facilities, both for transportation
and manufacturing powers, and it has the finest harbors on both
coasts--all wasted because of the indolence of the people. The
Government has given several liberal concessions in timber and
agricultural lands to secure the opening of its rivers to navigation,
and for the construction of railways from the coast to the interior.
Some of these grants are in the hands of responsible and capable
companies, and if the peace of the country is assured, and immigrants
can be induced to settle there, a rapid development of its resources is
promised.
Ten years ago the telegraph was unknown, and there was no postal system
in the interior. All communications were transmitted from place to place
by messengers, who were famous for their endurance and swiftness of
foot. The letter or package to be conveyed was first wrapped in cloth
and then fastened around the loins of the carrier. This system is still
in vogue for the transmission of letters, packages, and money. The
couriers, or _cozeos_, are noted for being trusty and courageous; they
travel long distances over the mountains and through the forest,
generally by routes known only to themselves.
[Illustration: BRANCH OF THE RUBBER-TREE.]
Within the last eight years every town of importance has been connected
with the capital by lines of telegraph. Before its construction
information of the utmost importance could not reach the capital from
the remote points in less than ten or twelve days. The Government saw
the necessity of some better and quicker method for transmitting
information, and constructed these lines. They are owned and operated
entirely by the Government, and from them a considerable revenue is
realized. For the purpose of sending a message, you must first purchase
of the proper Government officer a stamped telegraphic blank, which
varies in price from one real (twelve and a half cents) to one or two
dollars, in proportion to the number of words which it is to contain.
The distance the message is to travel makes no difference in the price,
provided its destination is within any of the republics of Central
America. When the message is written on the blank it is taken to the
telegraph-office, and if the charge for the number of words contained in
the message corresponds with the stamped blank it is forwarded.
[Illustration: A MODERN TOWN.]
Every department of Honduras possesses more or less mineral wealth, and
within the limits of the country almost every metal known to man is
found. The discoveries of gold and silver were made by the aborigines,
who possessed much treasure when the Spaniards conquered them, and ever
since the Conquest the mines have been worked with great profit; but
their development was greater under the viceroys than since the
independence of the republic, as this branch of industry has suffered
more from civil wars than any other. As a consequence, mine after mine
has been abandoned, and the districts where the best mineral deposits
exist are marked with depopulated towns and villages.
[Illustration: UP THE RIVER.]
The lack of roads renders it impossible to transport machinery to the
mining districts. The mines are seldom worked to any depth, and the
waste is enormous. But even under this system, rude and primitive as it
is, much wealth has been acquired, and millions of dollars in silver and
gold have been taken out annually for hundreds of years. Of late a good
deal of attention has been given to the Honduras mines by American
experts, and much capital has been invested in purchasing and
prospecting them, but the hope of realizing upon the investment lies in
the improvement of transportation facilities, for nothing that cannot be
carried on the back of a mule can either reach the mines or come from
them. And imported labor is quite as necessary, as the native of
Honduras cannot be induced to do anything in other than the way to which
he has been accustomed, and looks upon labor-saving machinery as the
invention of the evil one.
[Illustration: A MINING SETTLEMENT.]
The city of Tegucigalpa, the commercial metropolis and the actual
capital of the country, stands upon both banks of the Rio Cholutica in
an amphitheatre of mountains, and has twelve thousand inhabitants. The
river is spanned and the two divisions of the town connected by an
ancient bridge with some fine arches of stone. The suburb is called
Comayaguaita (Little Comayagua). The streets are well paved, in the same
manner as other Spanish American cities, with a gutter in the centre, to
which they slope from both sides. This gutter is always full of weeds
and dust and filth, but seldom of water; and although the hills which
half surround the city are full of running streams, with a fall
sufficient to force water to the tower of the cathedral, it has never
occurred to the inhabitants to utilize them. Every drop of water used
for any purpose in the city is carried, in an earthen jar on the top of
some woman’s head, from the river at the bottom of a gorge a hundred
feet deep.
[Illustration: VIEW IN NICARAGUA.]
The houses in Tegucigalpa show much more evidence of prosperity than
those of Comayagua, and are kept more tidy and in better repair. They
are usually painted either a dead white or pink, blue, yellow, green, or
some other very pronounced color, while often a native amateur artist
tries his hand at exterior decoration, and endeavors to make the walls
of adobe look as if they were made of marble.
[Illustration: AN INTERIOR PLAIN.]
Somehow or another Tegucigalpa always looks new. The grass is growing in
the streets, and there are many other indications of commercial
stagnation, but the people do not let their houses show how poor and
indolent they are. These two national characteristics, moreover, do not
appear in any form in the city. It is not only the present headquarters
of the Government and of commercial affairs, but it is the centre of
fashionable life and the residence of the aristocracy of Honduras.
Two-thirds of the white people in the republic live here, and the other
third come here to get their clothes, so that the city is by comparison
gay.
The numerous farms surrounding the city are capable of enormous
production, and some of them are still profitably operated, while many
have gone to waste. The staples are sugar, coffee, cocoa, and other
tropical products, which require and receive little attention. The
buildings upon these plantations are all very old, but are still in good
condition. The chief dwelling is commonly large and comfortable, built
of adobe and roofed with imported tiles, and located where it can secure
a good natural water supply. There is usually but one floor, no ceiling,
nor glass in the windows, for the climate does not require it, and glass
is expensive. The windows are protected with iron bars and heavy
mahogany shutters. As little timber as possible is used, because all dry
wood is subject to destruction from a little insect called the
_comojeu_, which honey-combs every rafter, joist, and beam in a building
as soon as the sap is exhausted, and the interiors of the houses have to
be restored at intervals of a few years.
Most of the churches are in a dilapidated condition, and have been
divested of their former ornaments and riches by the hands of vandals
during revolutions. The cathedral was erected at the expense of a devout
and wealthy padre, and was once a fine building, but is now in a sad
state of decay.
What will impress the traveller at once in Tegucigalpa is the entire
absence of carriages. I do not believe there is one in the country, any
more than there is a chimney or an overcoat, and for the same
reason--the people do not need them. All roads, it was said, lead to
Rome, but no roads lead to the capital of Honduras except a few short
ones, narrow and stony, like the way of salvation, and hedged about with
divers trials and pitfalls, from the neighboring plantations, and are
used only by rude ox-carts. Everybody goes on horseback, and all the
transportation is done on the backs of mules and men. Long caravans of
pack animals are coming and going to and from the sea-coast daily over
the mountain trails, and there is a class of Indians called Cargadors
who carry a cargo of a hundred pounds or so upon their backs, and run
at a jog-trot for hours at a time, making the same journey twice as
rapidly as a mule. Their loads are strapped to their backs on a wicker
frame, and by a broad band passing around the forehead.
[Illustration: ONE OF THE BACK STREETS.]
At breakfast chocolate often takes the place of coffee, and it is
prepared from the cocoa-bean in a manner different from that in use in
other countries. A handful or two of cocoa-beans, with a few
vanilla-beans or sticks of cinnamon, and a much larger amount of raw
sugar, are ground up together by the _matete_--that is, by being rubbed
between two stones--and moistened until it is reduced to paste; then it
is rolled out in little balls as large as a chocolate cream, and allowed
to harden. A plate of these is placed upon the table, each member of the
family takes as many as he or she chooses, drops them in a cup, and
pours boiling milk upon them. They soon dissolve, and are very
palatable.
The shops, or _tiendas_, of Tegucigalpa display very few goods that are
pretty or costly, and are usually “general merchandise” stores, such as
are found in the country villages of the United States--a few drugs and
dry goods, a little hardware, patent-leather boots and elaborately
stitched kid shoes for ladies--often white or pink or blue, for the
ladies affect bright-colored foot-gear--some cutlery and crockery, and
other household articles. Nearly all sales are on credit, even if the
purchaser have the money in his pocket, for the custom of the country is
not to do anything to-day that can be postponed.
[Illustration: PLAZA OF TEGUCIGALPA.]
The ladies usually do their shopping in the morning before breakfast,
which is served at eleven o’clock, for the afternoons are given up to
siestas. Most of the business of the city is done before breakfast, and
from eleven o’clock until four in the afternoon the streets are empty
and most of the stores are closed. Activity is resumed at the latter
hour, and continues until eight or nine o’clock in the evening.
[Illustration: MAKING TORTILLAS.]
Every woman goes to mass at seven in the morning, but a man is seldom
seen to enter a church except on feast-day or to attend a funeral. All
their religion is crammed into Holy-week, when they are very pious.
The schools of the republic are nominally free, but there are few of
them; education is compulsory, but the law is not enforced. The school
funds have usually been stolen, or diverted to other purposes, and only
in the cities, where public sentiment demands it, are schools
sustained. There is a university at Tegucigalpa which is said to have
been once an institution of some importance, but is such no longer. It
has a few students and a small faculty, but those who can afford it, and
who are anxious to secure an education, go to Guatemala or to Europe.
[Illustration: INDIGO WORKS.]
Tegucigalpa is famous for having been the birthplace of Morazan, the
Washington of Central America, and his descendants still reside there.
He was undoubtedly the greatest man any of these republics ever
produced, and had the broadest vision as well as the broadest views as
to the nature of a republic. The fires of liberty were enkindled by him,
and he led the fight against Spain which resulted in the overthrow of
the Viceroys and the establishment of the confederacy. He was born in
1799; his father was a native of Porto Rico and his mother a lady of
Tegucigalpa. He prided himself on the fact that his ancestors came from
the birthplace of Napoleon, and his descendants, to whom strangers are
usually introduced, seldom fail to forget that circumstance
[Illustration: THE TLACHIGUERO.]
in conversation. Before Morazan was of age he was prominent in Honduras,
and became the governor of the city in 1824, when he was but
twenty-five. For fourteen years thereafter his career was one of
singular activity and success, and the people of the entire continent
followed him with feelings akin to idolatry. He was so far ahead of them
in ideas and enterprise that his counsels were not followed, and he was
overthrown by a combination of priests, who took up a cruel Indian of
Guatemala named Rafael Carera, and succeeded in overthrowing the power
of Morazan, not only in Honduras, but throughout the entire confederacy.
The patriot and liberator was afterwards assassinated at Cartago, Costa
Rica, by men whom he trusted as his friends.
MANAGUA.
THE CAPITAL OF NICARAGUA.
A stranger landing at the port of Corinto, Nicaragua, asked the men who
were taking him ashore in a _bongoe_ the name of the capital of the
republic. There were three of them. The quickest of wit answered
promptly, “Grenada;” both the others disputed it, one of them contending
for the city of Managua, and the other for Leon. So animated did the
controversy become that all three dropped their oars, and nearly upset
the boat by their gesticulations. This question is, and always has been,
a dangerous one, and thousands of lives and hundreds of thousands of
money have been wasted in repeated attempts to determine it. If it were
the only excuse for the blood that has been shed in the little republic
during the last sixty-five years, its history would be a nobler and a
prouder one; for bitter wars have been waged for less, and brother has
fought brother to settle questions not only involving a preference for
cities but for men. There is no spot of equal area upon the globe in
which so much human blood has been wasted in civil war, or so much
wanton destruction committed. Nature has blessed it with wonderful
resources, and a few years of peace and industry would make the country
prosperous beyond comparison; but so much attention has been paid to
politics that little is left for anything else. Scarcely a year has
passed without a revolution, and during its sixty-five years of
independence the republic has known more than five times as many rulers
as it had during the three centuries it was under the dominion of Spain.
It was seldom a question of principle or policy that brought the
inhabitants to war, but usually the intrigue of some ambitious man. It
is a land of volcanic disturbance, physical, moral, and political, and
the mountains and men have between them contrived to almost compass its
destruction.
[Illustration: VIEW OF LAKE FROM BEACH AT MANAGUA.]
For sixty years the country has been going backward. Its population is
less than when independence was declared, and its wealth has decreased
even more rapidly. Its cities are heaps of ruins, and its commerce is
not so great as it was at the beginning of the century. There is,
however, a commercial elasticity, owing to the extreme productiveness of
the fields and the ease with which wealth is acquired, that has kept the
little republic from bankruptcy, and promises great prosperity if
political order can be preserved.
Most of the people live in towns, and waste much time in going and
coming between their homes and the plantations upon which they labor.
This is owing to the frequency of revolutions and the milder forms of
destruction and murder that are practised by highwaymen and other
robbers. None but the very poor live along the roadside, and they have
nothing to tempt assault.
[Illustration: CORINTO.]