Chapter XVI.

[Illustration]

Although we had previously moored our boat with the approach of darkness,

yet this night the Indians kept on their course. The river was now wide

and still, and the banks low and tropical. With the fading light of day,

the sea-breeze set in, fresh and pungent, from the ocean. Fire-flies

sparkled like stars along the shore, and only the night-hawk, swooping

down after its prey, startled the ear of night with its rushing pinions.

The night advanced, and the steady dip of the paddles soothed me into

a slumber, from which I was only roused by the noise of drums and the

sound of revelry. I leaped up suddenly, with some vague recollections

of the orgies at Sandy Bay, which, however, were soon dispelled, and I

found that we had already passed Brus Lagoon, and were now close to its

northern shore, where the Carib town is situated. There were many lights

and fires, and shouts and laughter rang out from the various groups

which were gathered around them. I perceived at once that some kind of

a festival was going on, and had some hesitation in venturing on shore.

But I was reassured by the conduct of the Indians, who paddled the boat

up to the beach, with the utmost confidence. Before it touched the sand,

however, we were hailed by some one on the shore, in a language which

I did not understand. A moment after, the hail was repeated in another

dialect, to which my Poyer boy replied, with some kind of explanation.

“Advance, friend!” was the prompt response of the challenger, who stepped

into the water, and lent a hand to drag up the canoe.

I scrambled forward, and leaped ashore, when I was immediately addressed

by the same voice which had hailed us, with, “Very welcome to Brus!” My

first impression was, that I had fallen in with Europeans, but I soon saw

that my new friend was a pure Indian. He was dressed in white pantaloons

and jacket, and wore a sash around his waist, and, altogether, looked

like a good fellow. He at once invited me to his house, explaining, as

we went along, that the village was in the midst of a festival, held

annually, on the occasion of the return of the mahogany-cutters from the

various works, both on this coast and in the vicinity of Belize. The

next day, he said, they expected a large reënforcement of their numbers,

and that then the festivities would be at their height.

Meantime, we had reached the house of our new friend, whose impromptu

hospitality I made no hesitation in accepting. It was empty; for all

hands were occupied with the festival. Our host stirred up the embers of

a fire, which were smouldering beneath a little roof in front of the hut,

and hastened away to call his family.

While I awaited his return, I smiled to think what a free and easy

way I had contracted since leaving Jamaica, of making myself at home

under all circumstances, and with all sorts of people. No letters of

introduction, given with hesitation, and received with doubt. And then,

the happy excitement of an even chance whether one’s welcome may come

in the form of a bullet or a breakfast! These things will do to tell my

friend Sly, I soliloquized, and fell into a revery, which was only broken

by the return of my host, accompanied by one of his wives—a very pretty

and well-dressed Carib woman, her hair neatly braided on the top of her

head, and stuck full of flowers. Although it was now past midnight,

she insisted on preparing something for us to eat, and then returned

to participate in the dances and rejoicings which were going on in the

centre of the village.

I would have accompanied my host there also, had it not been for an

incident which, for that night at least, banished my idle curiosity.

While occupied in arranging my personal baggage in our new quarters, I

had observed my Poyer companion standing apart, and regarding me with

an earnest and thoughtful expression. I was several times on the point

of speaking to him, and as often had my attention diverted by other

circumstances. Finally, however, I turned to seek him, but he was gone.

I inquired of Antonio what had become of him, but he could give me no

information; and, a little concerned himself, he started for the scene

of the revelry, under the impression that he might have been attracted

thither. He returned with a hasty step, and reported that neither the

Poyer or his companions were to be found. We hurried to the shore, where

we had left the boat, but that also was gone. The reader may, perhaps,

smile when I say that I strained my eyes to penetrate the darkness, if

only to catch one glimpse of my Poyer boy; and that I wept when I turned

back to the village. And when, on the following day, as I unrolled my

scanty wardrobe, a section of bamboo-cane, heavy with gold-dust, rolled

upon the floor, I felt not only that I had lost a friend, but that

beneath the swarthy breast of that untutored Indian boy there beat a

heart capable of the most delicate generosity. Be sure, my faithful

friend, far away in your mountain home, that your present shall never be

dishonored! Washed from the virginal sands, and wrought into the symbol

of our holy faith, it rests above a heart as constant as thine own;

and, inscribed with the single word “FIDELITY,” it shall descend to my

children, as an evidence that Faith and Friendship are heavenly flowers,

perennial in every clime!

The Caribs (who pronounce their own name _Caribees_), those Dyacks of

the Antilles, had always been associated in my mind with every thing

that was savage in character and habits, and I was astonished to find

that they had really considerable pretensions to civilization. It should

be observed, however, that they are here an intruded people, and that,

first and last, they have had a large association with the whites. They

now occupy the coast from the neighborhood of the port of Truxillo to

Carataska Lagoon, whence they have gradually expelled the Sambos or

Mosquitos. Their original seat was San Vincent, one of what are called

the Leeward Islands, whence they were deported in a body, by the English,

in 1798, and landed upon the then unoccupied island of Roatan, in the Bay

of Honduras. Their position there was an unsatisfactory one, and they

eagerly accepted the invitation of the Spanish authorities to remove to

the mainland.

Positions were assigned them in the vicinity of Truxillo, whence they

have spread rapidly to the eastward. All along the coast, generally near

the mouths of the various rivers with which it is fringed, they have

their establishments or towns. These are never large, but always neat,

and well supplied with provisions, especially vegetables, which are

cultivated with great care, and of the highest perfection. They grow

rice, cassava, sugar-cane, a little cotton, plantains, squashes, oranges,

mangoes, and every variety of indigenous fruits, besides an abundance of

hogs, ducks, turkeys, and fowls, of all of which they export considerable

quantities to Truxillo, and even to Belize, a distance of several hundred

miles.

The physical differences which existed among them at San Vincent are

still marked. Most are pure Indians, not large, but muscular, with a

ruddy skin, and long, straight hair. These were called the Red or Yellow

Caribs. Another portion are very dark, with curly hair, and betraying

unmistakably a large infusion of negro blood, and are called the Black

Caribs. They are taller than the Red Caribs, and well-proportioned. They

contrast with the latter, also, in respect of character, being more

vehement and mercurial. The pure Caribs are constant, industrious, quiet,

and orderly. They all profess the Catholic religion, although observing

very few of its rites, except during their visits to the Spanish towns,

where all their children are scrupulously taken to be baptized.

I was agreeably astonished when I awoke on the morning after our

arrival at Brus, to find a cup of coffee, well served in a china cup,

awaiting my attentions. And when I got up, I was still further surprised

to observe a table spread with a snow-white cloth, in the principal

apartment of the house, where my host welcomed me, with a genuine “good

morning.” I expressed my surprise at his acquaintance with the English,

which seemed to flatter him, and he ran through the same salutation in

Spanish, Creole-French, Carib, and Mosquito. Whereupon I told him he

was a “perambulating polyglot,” which he didn’t understand, although he

affected to laugh at the remark.

I had now an opportunity to make my observations on the village of

Brus and its people. The town is situated on a narrow, sandy tongue of

land, lying between the sea and the lagoon. This strip of land supports

a magnificent forest of cocoa-palms, relieved only by a few trees of

gigantic size and dense foliage, which, I suppose, must be akin to the

banyan-tree of India, inasmuch as they send down numerous stems or

trunks, which take root in the ground, and support the widely-spreading

branches. The establishment of my host, including his house and the huts

of his various wives, were all built beneath a single tree, which had

thirty-five distinct trunks, besides the central or parent stem. A belt

of miscellaneous trees is also left seaward, to break the force of the

north wind, which would otherwise be sure to destroy the palms. But the

underbrush had all been carefully removed, so that both the sea and the

lagoon were visible from all parts of the village. The design of their

removal was the excellent one of affording a free circulation of air; a

piece of sanitary wisdom which was supported by the additional precaution

of building the huts open only to the sea-breeze, and closed against the

miasmatic winds which blow occasionally from the land side.

Nothing could be more beautiful than the palm-grove, with its graceful

natural columns and evergreen arches, beneath which rose the picturesque

huts of the village. These were all well-built, walled, floored, and

partitioned, with cabbage-palm boards, and roofed with the branches of

the same tree. Episodically, I may repeat what has probably often been

observed before, that the palm, in its varieties, is a marvel of economic

usefulness to dwellers under the tropics. Not only does it present him

with forms of enchanting beauty, but it affords him food, drink, and

shelter. One variety yields him excellent substitutes for bread and

yeast; another sugar and wine; a third oil and vinegar; a fourth milk and

wax; a fifth resin and fruit; a sixth medicines and utensils; a seventh

weapons, cordage, hats, and clothing; and an eighth habitations and

furniture!

The plantations of the village, except a few clusters of banana-trees

and sugar-canes, on the edge of the lagoon, were situated on the islands

of the latter, or on its southern shore. Those on the islands were most

luxuriant, for the principal reason that they are fully protected from

the wild beasts, which occasionally commit extensive depredations on the

maize, rice, and cassava fields. One of the islands nearest the village,

on which my hostesses had their plantations, I visited frequently

during my stay. It was a delicious spot, covered with a most luxuriant

growth of fruits and vegetables. I could well understand why it had

been selected by the English for their settlement, when they sought to

establish themselves on the coast, during the great war with Spain. A

partially-obliterated trench and breast-work, a few iron guns half-buried

in the soil, at the most elevated portion of the island, and one or two

large iron cauldrons, probably designed to be used in sugar-works, were

now the only traces of their ancient establishments.

The lagoon abounds in fish and water-fowl, and there are some savannahs,

at a considerable distance up the Patuca, and on other streams flowing

into the lagoon, which are thronged with deer. But it would seem that

these are only occasionally hunted by the Caribs, and then chiefly for

their skins, of which large numbers are exported.

As I have said, we arrived in Brus during the annual carnival, which

follows on the return of those members of the community who have been

absent in the mahogany-works. It is in these works that the able-bodied

Caribs find their principal employment. They hire for from ten to twelve

dollars per month, and rations, receiving one half of their pay in goods,

and the other half in money. As a consequence, they have among them a

great variety of articles of European manufacture, selected with a most

fantastic taste. A Carib dandy delights in a closely-fitting pantaloons,

supported by a scarlet sash, a jaunty hat, encircled by a broad band of

gold lace, a profuse neck-cloth, and a sword, or purple umbrella. It is

in some such garb that he returns from the mahogany-works, to delight

the eyes and affect the sensibilities of the Carib girls; nor does he

fail to stuff his pockets with gay beads, and ear-rings and bracelets

of hoop-like dimensions, richly gilt and glowing with colored glass,

wherewith to follow up any favorable impression which may be produced by

his own resplendent person. He then affects to have forgotten his Carib

tongue, and finds himself constantly running into more familiar English,

after the immemorial practice of great and finished travelers. He scorns

the native _chicha_ for the first day, but overcomes his prejudice, and

gets glorious upon it the next. In fact, he enacts an unconscious satire

upon the follies of a class, whose vanity would never enable them to

discover the remotest possible parallelism between themselves and the

Caribs of Honduras!

During the day several large boats arrived at Brus from Limas and Roman,

both of which are mahogany stations. They all carried the Honduras flag

at the topmast, and bore down on the shore with their utmost speed, only

striking their sails when on the edge of the breakers, when the occupants

would all leap overboard, and thus float their boats to the shore. Here,

under the shade of the trees, all the inhabitants of the village were

gathered. They shouted and beat drums, and fired muskets, by way of

welcome to their friends, who responded with the whole power of their

lungs. Here, too, expectant wives, affectionate sisters, and anxious

mothers, spread out tables, loaded with food, fruits, bottles of rum,

and jars of _chicha_, wherewith to regale husband, brother, or son, on

the instant of his arrival. It was amusing to witness the rivalry of the

various wives of the same anxiously-expected husband, in their efforts

to outvie each other in the arrangement of their respective tables, and

the variety of eatables and drinkables which they supported. They were

all particularly ambitious in their display of glass-ware, and some of

them had a profusion of gay, and, in some instances, costly decanters and

tumblers. One yellow dame, with her shoulders loaded with beads and but

half-concealed by a silken scarf of brightest crimson, was complacent

and happy in the exclusive possession of a plated wine-server, which

supported three delicately-cut bottles of as many different colors, and

filled with an equal variety of liquors.

Every body drank with every body on the occasion of every body’s arrival,

a process which, it may be suspected, might, by frequent repetition,

come to develop a large liberality of feeling. At noon, it exhibited

itself in a profuse and energetic shaking of hands, and toward night in

embraces more prolonged and unctious than pleasant or endurable to one

receiving his initiation in the practice. So I was fain to retire early

from the shore, although enjoying highly the excitement, in which I

could not fail to have that kind of sympathy which every manifestation

of genuine feeling is sure to inspire. Even Antonio, whose impassible

brow had latterly become anxious and thoughtful, partook of the general

exhilaration, and wore a smiling face.

I was treated with great consideration by the entire population, who all

seemed alike consequential and happy, when an opportunity was afforded to

them of shaking me by the hand, and inquiring, “How do you do?”

As I have intimated, the Caribs, like the Mosquitos, practice polygamy;

but the wives have each a distinct establishment, and require a fair and

equal participation in all of the favors of their husband. If he make

one a present, he is obliged to honor all the others in like manner; and

they are all equally ready to make common cause against him, in case

of infidelity, or too wide an exhibition of gallantry. The division of

duties and responsibilities is rather extraordinary. When a Carib takes

a wife, he is obliged to build her a house and clear her a plantation.

But, this done, she must thenceforth take care of herself and her

offspring; and if she desire the assistance of her husband in planting,

she is obliged to pay him, at the rate of two dollars per week, for his

services. And although the husband generally accompanies his wives in

their trading excursions to Truxillo and elsewhere, he carries no loads,

and takes no part in the barter. As a consequence, nearly all the labor

of the villages is performed by the women; the men thinking it rather

beneath them, and far from manly, to engage in other occupation than

mahogany-cutting and the building of boats, in which art they are very

expert, using the axe, saw, and adze with great skill. Altogether, the

Caribs are kind, industrious, provident, honest, and faithful, and must

ultimately constitute one of the most important aids to the development

of the country. They are brave, and some companies, which have been in

the service of the government, have distinguished themselves in the

field, not less for their subordination than for their valor and powers

of endurance. They are usually temperate, and it is rare to see one of

them drunk, except during the continuance of some festival, of which they

have several in the course of the year.

I remained but a few days at Brus, and availed myself of the departure

of a large _creer_, or Carib boat, bound for Roatan, to take passage

for that island. I could not prevail upon my host to accept any thing

in return for his hospitality, except “El Moro,” for whom one of his

children had conceived a strong liking, which the bird was far from

reciprocating. Mischievous Moro! The last I saw of him was while waddling

stealthily across the floor, to get a bite at the toes of his admirer!

Our course from Brus lay, first, to the island of Gunaja, distinguished

historically as the one whence Columbus first descried the mainland of

America. Our sole purpose there was to carry a demijohn of brandy to a

solitary Scotchman, living upon one of the cays which surround it, to

whom it had been sent by some friend in Belize. It had been intrusted to

the Carib owner of the boat, who went thus out of his way to fulfill his

commission, without recompense or the hope of reward. One would suppose

that a demijohn of brandy was a dangerous article to intrust to the

exclusive custody of Indians; but those who know the Caribs best have

most faith in their integrity.

The Bay of Honduras is remarkable for its general placidity, and the

extreme purity of its waters. It has a large number of coral cays and

reefs on its western border, which almost encircle the peninsula of

Yucatan, as with a belt. The fine islands of Roatan and Guanaja are

belted in like manner, but there are several openings in the rocky

barriers which surround them, through which vessels may enter the

protected waters within.

[Illustration: APPROACH TO GUANAJA.]

The wind was fresh and fair, the sky serene, and the sea was bright and

sparkling in the sunlight. We swept on swiftly and gayly, the pine-clad

mountains of Guanaja rising slowly and smilingly above the horizon.

By-and-by the palm-trees on the surrounding cays became visible, their

plumes appearing to spring from the clear waters, and to rise and fall

with the motion of our boat. As we approached nearer to them, we could

make out the cays themselves, supporting masses of emerald verdure,

within a silvery ring of sand. Between them and the island, with its

wealth of forest, the sea was of the loveliest blue, and placid as a

“painted ocean.” But, before we reached their fairy-like shores, the wind

died away, and our sail drooped from the mast. We were partly under the

lee of the land, and the surface of the sea soon became

“——charmed in a calm so still

That not a ripple ruffled its smooth face.”

And as we drifted on, our boat yielding to the gentle swells, I amused

myself in looking over the side, and contemplating the forms of marine

life which the transparent water revealed to our gaze. The bottom

was distinctly visible, studded with the wonderful products of the

coral polypus, here spreading out like fans, there taking the forms

of flattened globes radiating with spines, and yonder shooting up in

branching, antler-like stems. Dark patches of jelly-like sponge, the

white shells of myriads of conchs, and occasionally a large fish, whose

pulsating gills alone gave sign of life—all these contributed to lend

variety and interest to those glimpses of the bottom of the sea. It was

to me a new revelation of Nature, and as I gazed, and gazed, the musical

song of the “dainty Ariel” rang its bell-like cadences in my ears;

“Full fathoms five thy father lies;

Of his bones are corals made;

Those are pearls that were his eyes;

Nothing of him that doth fade,

But doth suffer a sea-change

Into something rich and strange!”

Our men stretched themselves in the bottom of the boat, waiting, as they

said, for the evening breeze. But the evening breeze came not, and they

were finally obliged to paddle the boat to the nearest cay—a coral gem

indeed, with its clustering palms, drooping gracefully over the sea, as

if, Narcissus-like, contemplating their own beauty in its mirror-like

surface.

The moon was in her first quarter, and as she rose above the placid sea,

revealing the island in its isolation and beauty, jeweled round with

cays, I seated myself apart, on the sand of the shore, and drank in the

beauty of the scene. Gradually my thoughts recurred to the past, and I

could hardly realize that but little more than five months had elapsed

since I had held an unwitting conference with the demon, in my little

studio in White-street. And yet what an age of excitement and adventure

had been crowded in that brief space! I felt that I had entered upon a

new world of ideas and impressions, and wondered to think that I had

lived so long immured in the dull, unsympathizing heart of the crowded

city. It was with a pang of regret that I now found myself drifting upon

civilization again. A few days would bring me to Belize, where I knew

Antonio would leave me, to return to the fastnesses of his people. Where

then should I go?

These reflections saddened me, and the unwilling conviction was forced

upon my mind that I must soon be roused from my long, delicious dream,

perhaps never again to court its enchantments with success. I gazed upon

the moonlit waters, and listened to the gentle chime of the waves upon

the sand, and almost regretted that I had been admitted within the grand

arcanum of Nature, to adore her unvailed beauties, since they were now

to be shut out from me forever, by the restraints, the unmeaning forms,

the follies and vices of artificial life! A heavy weight of melancholy

settled on my heart, and I bowed my head on my knees, and—shall I own

it?—wept!

It was then that Antonio approached me, silently as when he stole to my

side on the fearful night of our shipwreck, and quietly laid his hand on

my shoulder. I knew who it was, but I said nothing, for I hesitated to

betray my emotion.

He respected my silence, and waited until my momentary weakness had

passed away, when I raised my head, and met his full and earnest gaze.

His face again glowed with that mysterious intelligence which I had

remarked on several previous occasions; but now his lips were unsealed,

and he said:—

“This is a good place, my brother, to tell you the secret of my heart;

for on that dark island slumber the bones of our fathers. It was there

that my powerful ancestor, Baalam Votan, led the white-robed holy men,

when they fled from the regions of the rising sun. It was there that our

people raised a temple to the Imperial Tiger, whose descendant I am—for

am I not Baalam,[5] and is not this the Heart of the People?”

This exclamation was made with energy, and, for a moment, he was silent,

and gazed earnestly upon his cherished talisman.

When he resumed, it was in a less exalted strain. He told me of the

ancient greatness of his people, when the race of Baalam Votan reigned

over the Peninsula of Yucatan, and sent the missionaries of their

religion to redeem the savage nations which surrounded them, even to the

country of the Huastecas, on the river of Panuco. It was then, he said,

that the Lord of Life smiled on the earth; then the ears of maize were

many times larger than now, the trees were loaded with unfailing supplies

of fruit, and bloomed with perennial flowers; the cotton grew of many

colors; and, although men died, their spirits walked the earth, and held

familiar converse with the children of the Itzaes.

Never have I heard a voice more intense and fervid than that of the

Indian boy, as he described the traditionary golden age of his people.

I listened with breathless interest, and thought it was thus that the

prophets of old must have spoken, when the people deemed them inspired

of heaven. But when he came to recount the wrongs of his nation, and

the destruction of the kingdom of his fathers, I could scarcely believe

that the hoarse voice, and words but half-articulated from excess of

passion, proceeded from the same lips. It was a fearful sight to witness

the convulsive energy of that Indian boy, whose knotted muscles, and the

veins swelling almost to bursting on his forehead, half-induced me to

fear that he had been stricken with madness.

But soon he became calm again, and told me how the slumbering spirit of

his people had become roused, and how wide-spread and terrible was the

revenge which they were meditating upon their oppressors. A few years

before, his father had gathered the descendants of the ancient Caziques

amid the ruins at Chichen-Itza, and there they had sworn, by the Heart

of Baalam Votan, to restore the rule of the Holy Men, and expel the

Spaniards from the Peninsula. It was then, that the sacred relic which

he wore on his breast had been dug up from the hiding-place where it had

lain for centuries, to lend the sanctity and power of the traditionary

Votan to his chosen successor. But the movement had been premature;

and although the excited, but poorly-armed Indians performed prodigies

of valor, and carried their victories to the very walls of Merida, yet

there they received a sudden, and, as it seemed, a final check, in

the death of Chichen-Pat, their cherished leader. He fell at the head

of his followers, who rescued only the talisman of Votan, called the

“Heart of the People,” and then fled in dismay to their fastnesses in the

wilderness. But the spirit which had been evoked was not subdued. Another

convocation was held, and the only son of their late leader was invested

with the symbol of authority. A scheme of insurrection was devised, which

was intended to include, not only the Indians of Yucatan and of Central

America, but even those of Mexico and Peru, in one grand and terrible

uprising against the Spanish dominion.

To this end messengers were sent in every direction; and the proud

cavalier at Bogota or Mexico, spurring his horse, with arrogant mien,

past the strange Indian, who shrank aside at his approach, or stood with

head uncovered in his presence, little thought what torrents of hate

were dammed up in that swarthy breast, or what wide-laid schemes of

vengeance were revolving beneath that impassible brow! The emissaries

toiled through wildernesses and deep marshes, over high mountains and

dangerous rivers, enduring hunger and fatigue, and the extremes of heat

and cold, to fulfill their respective missions. Even the daughters of the

Holy Men, like the seeress of the river Bocay, ventured afar from the

homes of their people, and among distant and alien tribes, became the

propagandists of the meditated Revenge!

* * * * *

The night had worn on, and the crescent moon rested on the verge of the

horizon. I had heard the great secret of the Indian boy; his bitter

recital of past wrongs and failures, and his hopes of future triumph. I

now knew that the angel of blood was indeed abroad, and that, in his own

figurative language, “The voice of the Tiger was loud in the mountain!”

[Illustration: FAREWELL TO THE MOSQUITO SHORE!]

I was silent and thoughtful when he had finished; but when, after a

long pause, he asked, “Will my brother go with me to the lake of the

Itzaes?” I grasped his hand and swore, by a name holier than that of

Votan, to justify a friendship so unwavering by a faith as boundless as

his own. And when I left the outposts of civilization, and plunged into

the untracked wilderness, with no other friend or guide, never did a

suspicion or a doubt darken for an instant my confidence, or impair my

faith in the loyal heart of ANTONIO CHUL—once the mild-eyed Indian boy,

but now the dreaded chieftain and victorious leader of the unrelenting

Itzaes of Yucatan!

Time only can determine what will be the final result of the contest

which is now waging upon the soil of that beautiful, but already

half-desolated peninsula. Almost every arrival brings us the news of

increased boldness, and new successes on the part of the Indians; and, it

now seems, as if the great drama of the conquest were to be closed by the

destruction of the race of the conquerors! Terribly the frown darkens on

the front of Nemesis!

“The voice of the Tiger is loud in the mountain!”

FOOTNOTES

[1] The _dory_ is usually hollowed from a solid piece of mahogany or

cedar, and is from twenty-five to fifty feet in length. This kind of

vessel is found so buoyant and safe, that persons, accustomed to the

management of it, often fearlessly venture out to sea, in weather when it

might be unsafe to trust to vessels of a larger kind.

The _pitpan_ is another variety of canoe, excelling the _dory_ in

point of speed. It is of the same material, differing only in being

flat-bottomed.

[2] The blue dye, used in coloring by these Indians, is made from the

_jiquilite_, which, as I have said, is indigenous on the coast. The

yellow from the _anotta_, called _achiota_, the same used to give the

color known as _nankeen_. The tree producing it is abundant throughout

all Central America.

[3] The plantain and the banana are varieties of the same plant. They not

only constitute marked features in the luxuriant foliage of the tropics,

but their fruit supplies the place of bread, and forms the principal part

of the food of the people. They thrive best in a rich, moist soil, and

are generally grown in regular walks, from shoots or bulbs like those of

the air-plant, which continually spring up at the roots of the parent

stem. They are very rapid in their growth, producing fruit within a

twelvemonth. Moreover, not being dependent upon the seasons, a constant

supply is kept up during the year; for, while one stem drops beneath

its load of ripe fruit, another throws out its long flower-spike, and a

third shows the half-formed cluster. The fruit is very nutritive, and is

eaten in a great variety of forms—raw, boiled, roasted, and fried—and in

nearly every stage of its growth, as well when green as when yellow and

mature. Humboldt tells us, that it affords, in a given extent of ground,

forty-four times more nutritive matter than the potato, and one hundred

and thirty-three times more than wheat. As it requires little if any care

in the cultivation, and produces thus perennially and abundantly, it may

be called an “institution for the encouragement of laziness.” On the

banks of all the rivers on the Mosquito Shore, it is found growing wild,

from shoots brought down from the plantations of the Indians, and which

have taken root where they were lodged by the current.

[4] The whole district of country lying on the north flank of the

mountains which bound the valley of the Rio Wanks, in the same direction,

enjoys a wide celebrity for its rich deposits of gold. There is hardly

a stream of which the sands do not yield a liberal proportion of that

precious metal. Yet, strange to say, the washing is confined almost

exclusively to the Indians, who seek to obtain no more than is just

sufficient to supply their limited wants. Among the reduced, or, as they

are called, christianized Indians, in the valley of Olancho, the women

only wash the gold for a few hours on Sunday morning. With the supply

thus obtained, they proceed to the towns, attend mass, and make their

petty purchases, devoting the rest of the week to the fullest enjoyment

of the _dolce far niente_.

[5] _Baalam_, in the language of Yucatan, signifies _Tiger_, and _Votan_

is understood to denote _Heart_. The Maya tradition is, that Baalam

Votan, the Tiger-Heart, led the fathers of the Mayas to Yucatan, from a

distant country. He is conspicuously figured in the ruined temples around

the Lake of Itza, as well as at Chichen and Palenque.

APPENDIX.

A.

HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE MOSQUITO SHORE.

The general physical characteristics, and the climate and productions

of the Mosquito Shore, have probably been sufficiently indicated in the

foregoing rapid narrative. Nevertheless, to supply any deficiencies which

may exist in these respects, as well as to illustrate the history of

this coast, to which recent political events have given some degree of

interest, I have here brought together a variety of facts derived from

original sources, or such as are not easily accessible to the general

reader.

The designation “Mosquito Shore” can only properly be understood in a

geographical sense, as applying to that portion of the eastern coast

of Central America lying between Cape Gracias à Dios and Bluefields

Lagoon, or between the twelfth and fifteenth degrees of north latitude,

a distance of about two hundred miles. The attempts which have been made

to apply this name to a greater extent of shore, have had their origin in

strictly political considerations.

This coast was discovered by Columbus, in his fourth voyage, in 1502.

He sailed along its entire length, stopping at various points, to

investigate the country, and ascertain the character of its inhabitants.

He gave it the name _Cariay_, and it was accurately characterized by one

of his companions, Porras, as “_una tierra muy baja_,” a very low land.

Columbus himself in his letter to the Spanish sovereigns, describes the

inhabitants as fishers, and “as great sorcerers, very terrible.” His son,

Fernando Columbus, is more explicit. He says, they were “almost negroes

in color, bestial, going naked; in all respects very rude, eating human

flesh, and devouring their fish raw, as they happened to catch them.”

The language of the chroniclers warrant us in believing that these

descriptions applied only to the Indians of the sea-coast, and that those

of the interior, whose language then was different, were a distinct

people.

The great incentive to Spanish enterprise in America, and which led to

the rapid conquest and settlement of the continent, was the acquisition

of the precious metals. But little of these was to be found on the

Mosquito Shore, and, as a consequence, the tide of Spanish adventure

swept by, heedless of the miserable savages who sought a precarious

subsistence among its lagoons and forests. It is true, a grant of the

entire coast, from Cape Gracias to the Gulf of Darien, was made to

Diego de Nicuessa, for purposes of colonization, within ten years after

its discovery, but the expedition which he fitted out to carry it into

effect, was wrecked at the mouth of the Cape, or Wanks river, which, in

consequence bore, for many years, the name of _Rio de los Perdidos_.

From that time forward, the attention of Spain was too much absorbed with

the other parts of her immense empire in America, to enable her to devote

much care to this comparatively unattractive shore. Her missionaries,

inspired with religious zeal, nevertheless penetrated among its people,

and feeble attempts were made to found establishments at Cape Gracias,

and probably at other points on the coast. But the resources of the

country were too few to sustain the latter, and the Indians themselves

too debased and savage to comprehend the instructions of the former.

The coast, therefore, remained in its primitive condition, until the

advent of the buccaneers in the sea of the Antilles, which was about the

middle of the seventeenth century. Its intricate bays and unknown rivers,

furnished admirable places of refuge and concealment, for the small and

swift vessels in which they roved the seas. They made permanent stations

at Cape Gracias and Bluefields, from which they darted out like hawks

on the galleons that sailed from Nombre de Dios and Carthagena, laden

with the riches of Peru. Indeed Bluefields, the present seat of Mosquito

royalty, derives its name from _Bleevelt_, a noted Dutch pirate, who had

his rendezvous in the bay of the same name.

The establishment at Cape Gracias, however, seems to have been not only

the principal one on this coast, but in the whole Caribbean Sea. It is

mentioned in nearly every chapter of the narratives, which the pirates

have left us, of their wild and bloody adventures. Here they met to

divide their spoil, and to decide upon new expeditions. The relations

which they maintained with the natives are well described by old Jo.

Esquemeling, a Dutch pirate, who wrote about 1670:—

“We directed our course toward Gracias à Dios, for thither

resort many pirates who have friendly correspondence with the

Indians there. The custom is, that when any pirates arrive,

every one has the liberty to buy himself an Indian woman, at

the price of a knife, an old axe, wood-bill or hatchet. By this

contract the woman is obliged to stay with the pirate all the

time he remains there. She serves him, meanwhile, with victuals

of all sorts that the country affords. The pirate has also

liberty to go and hunt and fish where he pleases. Through this

frequent converse with the pirates, the Indians sometimes go to

sea with them for whole years, so that many of them can speak

English.” (_Buccaneers of America_, _London_, 1704, p. 165.)

He also adds that they were extremely indolent, “wandering up and down,

without knowing or caring so much as to keep their bodies from the rain,

except by a few palm-leaves,” with “no other clothes than an apron tied

around their middle,” and armed with spears “pointed with the teeth of

crocodiles,” and living chiefly on bananas, wild fruits and fish.

We have a later account of them by De Lussan, another member of the

fraternity of freebooters:

“The Cape has long been inhabited by _mulasters_ [mulattos]

and negroes, both men and women, who have greatly multiplied

since a Spanish ship, bound from Guinea, freighted with their

fathers, was lost here. Those who escaped from the wreck were

courteously received by the _Mousticks_ [Spanish _Moscos_,

English _Mosquitos_] who live hereabout. These Indians assigned

their guests a place to grub up, and intermixed with them.

“The ancient _Mousticks_ live ten or a dozen leagues to the

windward, at a place called _Sanibey_ [Sandy Bay]. They are

very slothful, and neither plant or sow but very little; their

wives performing all the labor. As for their clothing, it is

neither larger or more sumptuous than that of the _mulasters_

of the Cape. There are but few among them who have a fixed

abode, most of them being vagabonds, and wandering along the

river side, with no other shelter than the _latarien-leaf_

[palm-leaf], which they manage so that when the wind drives

the rain on one side, they turn their leaf against it, behind

which they lie. When they are inclined to sleep, they dig a

hole in the sand, in which they put themselves.” (_De Lussan’s

Narrative_, _London_, 1704, p. 177.)

The negroes wrecked from the Spanish slave-ship were augmented in number

by the _cimarones_, or runaway slaves of the Spanish settlements in the

interior; and, intermingling with the Indians, originated the mongrel

race which now predominates on the Mosquito Shore. Still later, when

the English planters from Jamaica attempted to establish themselves on

the coast, they brought their slaves with them, who also contributed to

increase the negro element. What are called Mosquito Indians, therefore,

are a mixed race, combining the blood of negroes, Indians, pirates, and

Jamaica traders.

Many of the pirates were Englishmen, and all had relations more or less

intimate with the early governors of Jamaica, who often shared their

profits, in return for such indulgences as they were able to afford.

Indeed, it is alleged that they were often partners in the enterprises of

the buccaneers. But when the protracted wars with Spain, which favored

this state of things, were brought to a close, it became no longer

prudent to connive at freebooting; and, as a kind of intelligence had

sprung up with the Mosquito Shore, they conceived the idea of obtaining

possession of it, on behalf of the British crown. Various plans to this

end, drawn up by various individuals, were at this period presented

to the royal government, and by them, it would seem, referred to the

governors of Jamaica.

But the governors of that island had already taken the initiative. As

early as 1687 one of the Mosquito chiefs had been taken to Jamaica, for

the purpose of having him place his country under the protection of

England. Sir Hans Sloane has left an account of how, having escaped from

his keepers, “he pulled off the European clothes his friends had put on,

and climbed to the top of a tree!”

It seems, nevertheless, that he received “a cocked hat, and a ridiculous

piece of writing,” which, according to Jeffreys, was a commission as

king, “given by his Grace, the Duke of Albemarle, under the seal of the

island!”

It was not, however, until 1740, that an attempt was made to obtain a

cession of the coast, from the extraordinary monarch thus created by the

Duke of Albemarle. In that year Governor Trelawney wrote to the Duke of

Newcastle, suggesting the expediency of rousing the Mosquito Indians

against the Spaniards, with whom the English were at war, and purposing

an absolute occupation of their country. He represented that there were

about one hundred Englishmen there, “_mostly such as could live nowhere

else_,” who might be brought together, reënforced, and, by the help of

the Mosquitos, finally induce the other Indians to revolt, “and thus

spread the insurrection from one part to another, till it should become

general over the Indies, and drive the Spaniards entirely out.”

In pursuance of this scheme, Governor Trelawney commissioned one Robert

Hodgson, to proceed to the Mosquito Shore, fully provided with every

thing necessary to enable him to tamper with the Indians. The manner in

which he executed his instructions is naïvely told by Hodgson himself,

in a letter addressed to the Governor. The following extracts are from

the original letter, now in the possession of Colonel Peter Force, of

Washington.

SANDY BAY, April 8th, 1740.

“May it please Your Excellency,—

“I arrived at St. Andrews on the 4th of March, and sailed for

Sandy Bay on the 8th, where I arrived on the 11th, but was

prevented by a Norther from going ashore till the 13th.

“King Edward being informed of my arrival, sent me word that he

would see me next day, which he did, attended by several of his

captains. I read to him Your Excellency’s letter, and my own

commission, and when I had explained them by an interpreter,

I told them my errand, and recommended to them to seek all

opportunities of cultivating friendship and union with the

neighboring Indian nations, and especially such as were under

subjection to the Spaniards, and of helping them to recover

their freedom. They approved every thing I said, and appointed

the 16th to meet the Governor, John Briton, and his captains at

the same place, to hear what I had further to say.

“On the 16th they all came, except Admiral Dilly and Colonel

Morgan, who were, like General Hobby and his captains, at too

great a distance to be sent for, but their presence not being

material, I proceeded to explain to them that, as they had long

acknowledged themselves subjects of Great Britain, the Governor

of Jamaica had sent me to take possession of their country in

His Majesty’s name—then asked if they had any thing to object.

They answered, they had nothing to say against it, but were

very glad I had come for that purpose; so I immediately set

up the standard, and reducing what I had said into articles,

I asked them both jointly and separately, if they approved,

and would abide by them. They unanimously declared they would.

I had them then read over again, in solemn manner, under the

colors, and, at the end of every article fired a gun, and

concluded by cutting up a turf, and promising to defend their

country, and procure for them all assistance from England in my

power.

“The formality with which all this was done seems to have had a

good effect upon them.

“The articles I enclose, and hope Your Excellency will excuse

so much ceremony; for, as I had no certain information whether

the country was ever taken possession of before, or ever

claimed otherwise than by sending them down commissions, I

thought the more voluntary and clear the cession was the

better.... The king is very young, I believe not twenty, and is

not much observed; but were he to be in England or Jamaica a

while, _’tis thought he would make a hopeful monarch enough_.

“On the 18th the king, with his captains, came of their

own accord to consult about a proper plan to attack [the

Spaniards], but hearing that Captain Jumper was expected from

the other side of the Cape, and neither the Governor, Admiral

Dilly, nor Colonel Morgan being present, I thought it best to

defer it till they were summoned. The king brought his mother,

and the captains their wives. I entertained them as usual, but

there always comes such a train _that I should have had three

or four, instead of one puncheon of rum_.” ...

Hodgson then goes on to describe the appearance of one Andrew Stewart,

a pirate, to whom the Indians had made a promise of assistance, from

which he endeavored to dissuade them, in order to accompany him; but the

Indians finally agreed to attack the river Cocelijo to oblige Stewart,

and San Juan de Veragua to oblige Hodgson. He continues:—

... “They intoxicate themselves with a liquor made of honey,

pine-apple, and cassava, and, if they avoid quarrels, which

often happen, they are sure to have fine promiscuous doings

among the girls. The old women, I am told, have the liberty of

chewing the cassava, before it is put in, that they may have a

chance in the general rape as well as the young ones.

“I fell into one of their drunken-bouts by accident yesterday,

when I found Admiral Dilly and Colonel Morgan retailing my

advice to them to little effect, for most of them were too

drunk to mind it, and so hideously painted that I quickly left

them to avoid being daubed all over, which is the compliment

they usually pay visitors on such occasions.

... “Their resentment of adultery has lost its edge too much

among them, which I have no doubt they are obliged to us for,

as also for the breach of promise in their bargains.... They

will loll in their hammocks until they are almost starved, then

start up, and go a turtling in a pet; and if they have not

immediate success, and their happens to be many boats together,

they form a design upon some Spanish or Indian town....

“The country is fine, and produces good cotton, better than

Jamaica.... Those Indians, on this side, do not appear so

averse to government as I supposed, and those on the other are

tractable enough.... I don’t take their number to be so many as

the author of the project makes them out.

(Signed) “ROBERT HODGSON.”

In a subsequent letter, from Chiriqui Lagoon, dated June 21, 1740,

Hodgson gives a further account of his expedition, and asks for some

blank commissions for Mosquito admirals and generals, and also implores

the Governor to send him out some men as a guard; for, he says, “my life

is in more danger from these Indians than from the Spaniards.”

Previously to this mission of Hodgson, viz., on the 28th of October, the

Spanish Embassador in London had made complaints that the incursions of

the Zambos and Indians of the Mosquito Shore, on the adjacent Spanish

settlements, were “at the instigation and under the protection of the

English of Jamaica, who have a commerce with them, and give them in

exchange for the captive Indians whom they purchase for slaves, firearms,

powder, shot, and other goods, contrary to the natural rights of these

people.”

The “cession” of the Mosquito Shore, thus procured by Hodgson, was

followed up by occupation. Several Jamaica planters established

themselves there, and Hodgson shortly afterward received the appointment

of “Superintendent of the Mosquito Shore.”

In 1744 an order was issued in Council, dispatching a certain number of

troops from Jamaica to the Mosquito Shore, and in 1748 another order for

sending a supply of ordnance to the “new settlements” established there.

In fact, everything indicated the purpose of a permanent occupation of

the country. The Spaniards remonstrated, and in 1750-51 threatened a

forcible expulsion of the English, whereupon Trelawney instructed Hodgson

to represent to them, that “the object of keeping a superintendent

among the Indians was to restrain them in their hostilities against the

Spaniards!” For a time the Spaniards were deceived, and even went so

far as to confer on Hodgson the title of Colonel, for the services which

he professed to render to them. They, however, finally discovered his

duplicity, and made arrangements to carry out their threat.

This not only alarmed the settlers, but also Governor Knowles, who had

succeeded Trelawney in Jamaica. He opened a correspondence with the

Captain-General of Guatemala for the cessation of hostilities, till he

could hear from England, whither he wrote that the whole Mosquito affair

was “_a job_,” and that if Hodgson were not checked or recalled, “he

would involve the nation in difficulties,” and that the “Indians were so

perplexed that they did not know what part to take.” A little later the

Indians themselves took up arms against the English, being discontented

with the treatment which they had received.

These things did not escape the notice of Spain, and had their influence

in bringing about the troubles which were ended by the treaty of Paris,

in 1763, by which Great Britain agreed to demolish all the fortifications

which she had erected, not only on the Mosquito Shore, but in all “other

places in the territory of Spain, in that part of the world.” This

treaty, nevertheless, did not have the effect of entirely terminating

English intrigue and aggression on the Mosquito Shore and elsewhere,

and its provisions were consequently revived, and made more explicit

and stringent by the subsequent treaty of 1783. This treaty provided

that all the “English settlements on the Spanish continent” should be

abandoned; but, on the pretext that “the Mosquito Shore was not part of

the _Spanish_ continent, but of the _American_ continent,” the English

managed to evade its provisions, and to keep up their connection with

that coast, as before. This piece of duplicity led to severe reclamations

on the part of Spain, which were only settled by the supplementary

treaty of 1786, which stipulated that

“His Britannic Majesty’s subjects, and other colonists who have

enjoyed the protection of England, shall evacuate the country

of the Mosquitos, as well as the continent in general, and the

islands adjacent without exception,” etc. And that “If there

should still remain any persons so daring as to presume, by

entering into the interior country, to obstruct the evacuation

agreed upon, His Britannic Majesty, so far from affording them

any succor or protection, will disavow them in the most solemn

manner,” etc., etc.

The English, nevertheless, under authority of another article of this

treaty, were allowed to cut logwood, within a certain accurately-defined

territory on the coast of Yucatan, now known as “Belize,” or “British

Honduras.” But they were strictly forbidden to make permanent

establishments, erect fortifications, or organize any form of government;

nor was the permission thus accorded to be construed as in any way

derogating from the “sovereign territorial rights of the King of Spain.”

Yet from this simple permission to cut wood, thus hedged round with

solemn treaty stipulations, Great Britain, by a series of encroachments

and aggressions has come to arrogate absolute sovereignty, not only over

Belize and a wide expanse of adjacent territory, but also over the large

islands of Roatan, Guanaja, etc., in the Bay of Honduras, which have been

organized as colonies of the British crown!

From 1786 forward, Great Britain ceased to hold any open relations with

the Mosquito Indians, until the decline of the power of Spain, and the

loss of her American possessions. In the interval, the governors of the

provinces of Central America had made various establishments on the

Mosquito Shore, at Cape Gracias, and at Bluefields, and had erected a

fort for the protection of the harbor of San Juan, at the mouth of the

river of the same name.

But when the country passed into the hands of the comparatively

feeble states of Central America, whom it was supposed could offer no

effectual resistance to aggression, the English revived their schemes

of aggrandisement on the Mosquito Shore. And while these states were

occupied with the questions incident to their new political organization,

agents were dispatched to the coast, from Jamaica and Belize, to tamper

again with the Indians, and to induce them to reject the authority of

the republics which had succeeded to the rights of Spain. In this they

seem to have been, to a certain degree, successful. Neither rum, nor

commissions as kings, admirals, generals, and governors, were wanting, to

operate upon the weakness of the savages. “A regalia,” says Macgregor,

“consisting of a silver-gilt crown, a sword, and sceptre of moderate

value,” were sent out to lend dignity and grandeur to the restored

dynasty of Mosquito! A savage chief, or head-man, who suited the purposes

of the Jamaican Warwicks, was pitched upon, taken to Belize, and formally

“crowned.” But he turned out badly. In the language of Macgregor, in his

Report to the British Parliament, “he combined the bad qualities of the

European and Creole, with the vicious propensities of the Sambo, and

the capriciousness of the Indian.” He was killed in a drunken brawl, in

1824, and was succeeded by his half-brother, Robert. But it was soon

found that Robert was in the Spanish interest, and he was accordingly

set aside, by the British agents, who took into favor a Sambo, named

“George Frederick.” But he, too, proved to be an indifferent tool, and

either died, or was dropped, for another Sambo, who was called by the

high-sounding name of “_Robert Charles Frederick_,” and who promised to

answer every purpose.

His “coronation” was effected at Belize, on the 23d of April, 1825, upon

which solemn occasion a number of so-called chiefs were got together,

under the seductive promise of a “big drunk.” The ceremonies which took

place have been described by a British subject, who was an eye-witness of

the proceedings. His picture needs no heightening to make it irresistibly

ludicrous!

“On the previous evening cards of invitation were sent to

the different merchants, requesting their attendance at the

court-house early in the morning. At this place the king,

dressed in a British major’s uniform, made his appearance;

and his chiefs similarly clothed, but with sailors’ trowsers,

were ranged around the room. A more motley group can hardly be

imagined. Here an epaulette decorated a herculean shoulder,

tempting its dignified owner to view his less favored neighbor

with triumphant glances. There a wanting button displayed a

greasy olive skin under the uniform of a captain of infantry.

At one side a cautious noble might be seen, carefully

braced up to the chin, like a modern dandy, defying the

most _penetrating_ eye to _prove_ him shirtless; while the

mathematical movements of a fourth, panting under such tight

habiliments, expressed the fear and trembling with which he

awaited some awful accident.

“The order of procession being arranged, the cavalcade moved

toward the church; his Mosquito Majesty on horseback, supported

on the right and left by the two senior British officers of the

settlement, and his chiefs following on foot two by two. On

its arrival his Majesty was placed in a chair, near the altar,

and the English coronation service was read by the chaplain to

the colony, who, on this occasion, performed the part of the

Archbishop of Canterbury. When he arrived at this part, ‘And

all the people said, let the King live forever, long live the

King, God save the King!’ the vessels of the port, according to

a previous signal, fired a salute, and the chiefs rising, cried

out, ‘Long live King Robert!’

“His Majesty seemed chiefly occupied in admiring his finery,

and, after his anointing, expressed his gratification by

repeatedly thrusting his hands through his thick, bushy hair,

and applying his finger, to his nose—in this expressive manner

indicating his delight at this part of the service.

“Before, however, his chiefs could swear allegiance to

their monarch, it was necessary that they should profess

Christianity; and, accordingly, with shame be it recorded, they

were baptized ‘in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!’

They displayed total ignorance of the meaning of this ceremony;

and when asked to give their names, took the titles of Lord

Rodney, Lord Nelson, or some other celebrated officer, and

seemed grievously disappointed when told that they could only

be baptized by simple Christian names.

“After this solemn mockery was concluded, the whole assembly

adjourned to a large school-room to eat the coronation dinner,

when these poor creatures all got intoxicated with rum! A

suitable conclusion to a farce, as blasphemous and wicked as

ever disgraced a Christian country.” (_Dunn’s Central America_,

pp. 26, 27.—1828.)

After having been thus invested with the Mosquito purple, “King Robert

Charles Frederick” was conducted back to the Mosquito Shore, and turned

loose to await the further development of British designs. After the

unctious ceremonies at Belize, he seems to have taken the proceeding

in earnest, and to have deluded himself with the belief that he was

really a king! In this character, and moved thereto by the suggestions

of divers scheming traders, and the powerful incentives of gay cottons

and rum, he proceeded, of his sovereign will and pleasure, to make

grants to the aforesaid traders, of large portions of his alleged

dominions. These grants were not only so extensive as to cover the entire

shore, but conveyed the absolute sovereignty over them to the various

grantees—Rennick, Shepherd, Haly, and others.

When these proceedings came to the ears of the Governor of Jamaica, and

the Superintendent of Belize, who had created “His Mosquito Majesty” for

their own use and purposes, they created great alarm. Says Macgregor,

“it appears that these grants were made without the knowledge of the

British agent, who had usually been residing on the coast, _to keep up

the connection with England_.” He adds that “upon their coming to the

knowledge of the British government, they were very properly disallowed.”

Not only were they disallowed, but a vessel of war was sent to the coast

to catch “Robert Charles Frederick,” and take him to Belize, where he

would be unable to do more mischief. This was done, but “His Majesty”

could not endure the restraints of civilization—he pined away, and died.

But before this lamentable catastrophe took place, he was induced to

affix “his mark” to a document styled “a Will,” in which it was provided

that the affairs of his kingdom should be administered by Colonel

McDonald, the Superintendent of Belize, as Regent, during the minority

of his heir; that McDonald should be guardian of his children; and, with

reference to the spiritual wants of his beloved subjects, “the United

Church of England and Ireland should be the established religion of the

Mosquito nation forever!” Sainted Robert!

Upon the death of “Robert Charles Frederick,” his son, “George William

Clarence,” the present incumbent of the Mosquito throne, was duly

proclaimed “King” by the Regent McDonald, and his colleagues. His first

act, under their direction, was the revocation of all the grants which

his father had made to the traders, on the ground that the royal Robert

Charles was drunk when he made them, and that they had been given without

a consideration. An agent was then appointed to take charge of this

tender scion of royalty, at Bluefields, where the latter still remains,

in complete subjection to his masters, who direct all his acts, or

rather compel his endorsement of their own. From 1841 up to 1848 the

proceedings of the English agents, in developing their policy in respect

to the Mosquito Shore, and in preparing the way for its final aggregation

to the British crown, rise beyond the scope of sober history or serious

recital, and could only be properly illustrated by the appropriate pens

of Charivari, or of Punch.

All these proceedings were firmly and earnestly protested against by the

Central American States, who, however, received no satisfactory replies

to their remonstrances. They were, furthermore, too much occupied with

their own interior dissensions to undertake any effectual resistance to

the aggressions of the English agents. In this emergency they addressed

an appeal to the civilized nations of Europe, and a particular and

fervent one to the United States, for its interference in behalf of their

clear territorial rights and sovereignty.

Before time was afforded for action on these appeals, the termination

of the war with Mexico, and the purchase of California by the United

States, precipitated the course of English intrigue and encroachment on

the Mosquito Shore. The British government was not slow to perceive that

the acquisition of California would give to the long-cherished project

of establishing a ship-canal between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans,

a new, practical, and immediate importance, and rightly foresaw that

it would soon come to attract a large share of public attention in the

United States. Orders were at once issued for the seizure of the Port of

San Juan de Nicaragua, the only possible eastern terminus for a canal

by way of the river San Juan, and the Nicaraguan lakes. This port had

always been in the undisputed occupation both of Spain and Nicaragua;

not a single Mosquito Indian had ever dwelt there, or within fifty

miles of it, in any direction, yet, under pretext that it constituted

“part of the proper dominions of his Mosquito Majesty, of whom Great

Britain was the lawful protector,” two British vessels-of-war entered

the harbor in the month of January, 1848, tore down the Nicaraguan flag,

raised that of “Mosquito,” turned out the Nicaraguan officers, and

filled their places with Englishmen. This done, they sailed away; but no

sooner did the intelligence of the event reach the interior, than the

Nicaraguan government sent down a small force, expelled the intruders,

and resumed possession. The British forces, considerably augmented,

thereupon returned. The Nicaraguans, unable to oppose them, retired up

the river, and erected some rude fortifications on its banks. They were

followed by an English detachment, and finally routed, with great loss.

Hostilities were further prosecuted, until the Nicaraguans, powerless

against the forces of Great Britain, consented to an armistice, which

provided that they should not disturb San Juan, or attempt to reoccupy

the port, pending the negotiations which, it was foreseen, would follow

upon the seizure. All attempts to induce them to relinquish their claims

of sovereignty over the port, were, however, unsuccessful.

By this high-handed act, committed in time of profound peace, Lord

Palmerston, who had directed it, fondly hoped to secure for Great Britain

the control of the then-supposed only feasible means of communication

between the seas. He had grasped, as he thought, the key of the Central

American Isthmus. English officers were at once installed in San Juan,

and a “Consul General” appointed to reside there, with the most absolute

dictatorial powers, supported by what was called a “police force,” from

Jamaica, and the almost constant presence of a British vessel of war in

the harbor.

This act was shortly followed by the attempted seizure of the Island

of Tigre, and the Gulf of Fonseca, the supposed western terminus of the

proposed canal, on the Pacific. This attempt was thwarted by American

diplomacy in that quarter.

The results of American interference are too recent and well-known to

need recapitulation. An American company obtained the privileges of a

transit through Nicaragua, and it was not long before American steamers

began to run to San Juan. A large number of American citizens established

themselves at the port, where they soon succeeded in suffocating British

influence. They took the direction of affairs in their own hands,

adopted a constitution, and organized a regular and stable government,

pending the final settlement of the various questions concerning Central

America, then in course of negotiation between the United States and

Great Britain. In this condition the place remained, well-ordered, and

affording the fullest protection to person and property, until the month

of June of last year, when, under a misrepresentation of facts, and

the grossest perversions of truth, inspired by unscrupulous personal

hostility, the United States government was induced to issue such

orders in respect to it, to a naval officer of more zeal and ambition

of notoriety than either wisdom or discretion, as resulted in its

bombardment and total destruction. Since this act, which has met the

unanimous reprehension of the country, the town has been partly rebuilt

and re-occupied, and now maintains an extraordinary and most anomalous

condition, which can not long endure without resulting in serious

complications. The United States insists, and justly, that it pertains

to Nicaragua, and that all authority which may be exercised there, not

derived from that State, is an usurpation; while, on the other hand,

without insisting on the sovereignty of Mosquito, Great Britain denies it

to Nicaragua, and prohibits her from attempting to exercise jurisdiction

over it. Meantime San Juan and its people are left helplessly in a

political Limbo, suffering witnesses of their inability to serve two

masters. The obvious, and probably the only peaceable solution of this

complication, is the voluntary establishment of San Juan as a free port

by Nicaragua, under the joint protection of England and the United States.

Since 1849, nearly the whole interest of the “Mosquito question” has

been centered in San Juan. It is true, Messrs. Webster and Crampton

agreed upon a _projet_, defining the limits of Mosquito jurisdiction,

and establishing a _de facto_ Sambo monarchy on the coast, recognized,

if not guaranteed, both by the United States and Great Britain. But the

_projet_ found no favor in this country, and was, moreover, indignantly

rejected by Nicaragua. How far subsequent negotiations have tended to

bring affairs to a settlement, remains to be disclosed.

It is nevertheless certain that, while Nicaragua has fretted, the United

States blustered, and Great Britain silently and sullenly relaxed her

gripe, as circumstances have rendered it necessary, the “Kingdom of

Mosquito” has undergone no change, but has kept on the even tenor of its

way—a happy illustration of the conservative and peaceful tendencies of

well-established monarchical institutions! Under all the complications

of the modern time, the royal Clarence, the hospitable Drummer, and the

bibulous Slam, ignorant of the exalted place which they occupy in the

instructions, and dispatches, and notes of conference, wherewith the

Slams and Drummers of other lands do gravely amuse themselves, still

cherish the well-being of their beloved and fellow-subjects, who, in

turn, hunt, and fish, and cultivate the “big drunk” as of yore!

B.

VARIOUS NOTES ON THE TOPOGRAPHY, SOIL, CLIMATE, AND NATIVES OF THE

MOSQUITO SHORE.

The subjoined extracts, from various published works and memoirs of

acknowledged authenticity, and from original documents, exhibit the

condition of the people of the Mosquito Shore, their habits and modes of

life, from the year 1700 up to the present time. It will be seen that few

if any changes have taken place for the better, in this long period of a

hundred and fifty years.

1710.

_From Dampier’s “Voyage around the World,” London_, 1717, p. 7-11.

“The Mosquito Indians are but a small nation or family, and not a hundred

men of them in number, inhabiting on the main, on the north side, near

Cape Gracias à Dios.... They are coveted by the privateers as hunters....

They have no form of government among them, but take the Governor of

Jamaica to be one of the greatest princes in the world.”

1757.

_Extracts from “Some account of the Mosquito Territory, written in 1757,

while that country was in the possession of the British, by Col. Robert

Hodgson, formerly His Majesty’s Commander-in-Chief, Superintendent, and

Agent on the Mosquito Shore.”_

This Colonel Hodgson was son of the Captain Hodgson who was sent to the

Mosquito Coast, in 1740, by Governor Trelawney. He states that the

population of the shore, at the time of his writing (1757), exclusive

of aborigines was: “Whites 154, Mestizoes and Mulattoes 170, Indian and

Negro slaves 800—total 1124.” He observes that the “whites are without

laws,” but, nevertheless, living with great regularity; and that, if the

number of white children is small, “it may be imputed to most of the

women having lived with so much freedom formerly.” He then proceeds to

give a very clear and accurate account of the country, its products, and

people, as follows:—

“The face of the country is various. The sea-coast, from Cape Cameron to

Bluefields, is low and level, but the land rises gradually up any of the

large, fair rivers with which it abounds, and whose regular flowery banks

form beautiful avenues, and about twenty miles up is high enough for any

purpose. But the lowland is full of swamps. Near the coast are several

large lagoons, whose length, for the most part, is parallel thereto, and

are so joined to each other by narrow necks of water, that half this

distance may be gone inland, upon smooth water; in the flood times this

may be called a range of islands, lying close in with the main, but the

land is not much overflowed. To the westward and southward of the above

capes, the land is high, almost to the sea-side, the hills rising gently

like the swell of the sea. The greater part of the higher land is covered

with large woods; but the lowland consists chiefly of large, level lawns,

or savannahs, as they are called, with scarce a tree, and some of them

very extensive. The whole country is remarkably well watered by many fine

rivers, which have a long course; by innumerable smaller ones, and by

creeks and lagoons; but all the rivers have the inconvenience of shoal

bars at their mouths. The soil of the high woody land is the best, and

is every where excellent; being either a deep black mould, or rich

brick clay. What low woody ground is interspersed among the lawns is

not so good; but the inhabitants who hitherto have chosen it for their

plantations, have found that it will produce what they want very well.

The savannah lands are the worst; the soil is light sand mixed with

some rich mould, but might be greatly improved and made very useful.

At present they are used for pasturage. The swamps or marshes are very

rich soil; and if the wood which grows on them were cut down, they would

either dry up, or, with a little more pains, might be drained.”—P. 21.

“Indigo grows all about the country, of the same kind with that of the

province of Guatemala, which is esteemed the best in the world.

“Cotton grows every where, in the worst land; the staple is remarkably

good. There are three species of that kind which is manufactured, one of

which is a light reddish brown, and looks like silk.”—P. 23.

“Sugar, of which the little that is planted grows remarkably well in this

country, which is much better adapted for it than any of the islands, on

account of the great convenience of streams of water for such works and

for carriage; the country not being subject to severe droughts, and free

from hurricanes.”—P. 29.

“The climate is very sensibly cooler than that of Jamaica, and very

healthy, on which account people from that island sometimes come hither.

Indeed, the disorders in both are of the same nature; but here they are

not near so frequent or so violent as in that island. During the north

winds the season may, with propriety, be called winter.

“The wind most common is the sea-breeze, or _trade-wind_. It blows

fresh in June and July, but very moderate in April, May, August, and

September, particularly in April, and from the middle of August to the

latter part of September. But from that time to the end of October, a

westerly wind prevails along the coast to the westward of Cape Gracias,

and a southerly one along the coast to the south of it; after which, to

the end of February, at the full and change of the moon, strong north

winds may be expected, veering round from east to west, and continuing

about a week, yet is scarce ever so strong as to prevent vessels from

beating to windward, and, if they choose it, getting in to Bonacca....

The land wind blows seven leagues off to sea, although sometimes very

weak.... The month of March is very uncertain. The seasons are much the

same as in other parts of the continent. In the rainy season, scarce a

day passes without a heavy shower; the first commonly begins in June, and

lasts about six weeks, in which time the rivers rise considerably, and

are very rapid. The second begins about the middle of October, and lasts

about two months. When they are over, the vegetation is surprisingly

quick, and there is the further advantage of frequent, intermediate,

gentle showers.... The harbors on this coast do not answer the occasion

there would be for them. On the bar of Brewer’s Lagoon there is seven

feet water; often more on that of Black River. On those of Carataska and

Warina Sound, nine feet; Great River and Pearl Cay, eight feet....

“The natives or Mosquito people are of two breeds, one the original

Indians, and the other a mixture of those and negroes, called Sambos.

The latter originated from the cargoes of two Dutch ships filled with

negroes, which were cast away on the coast, where, after several battles,

the negroes had wives and ground given to them; since which they have

greatly multiplied, and there is now no distinction between them in their

rights and customs.”—P. 40.

“Though they are to all intents and purposes one people, yet they are not

so properly a single state as three united, each of which is independent

of the others.

“I. Those who inhabit the southern extremity till Bragman’s, and are

mostly the _original Indians_; their head-man is called _Governor_.

“II. Those who extend to about Little Black River, and are mostly Sambos;

their chief is called _King_.

“III. Those westward, who are Indians and Sambos mixed; their head-man is

called _General_.

“The power of these three head-men is nearly equal, with a small

difference in favor of the king, who is a little supported by the whites

for the sake of his name. But none of these chiefs have much more than a

negative voice, and never do any thing without consulting a council of

old men.

“... _The king has his commission or patent for being called so from the

Governor of Jamaica._ And all the other chief people have commissions

(admirals and captains) from His Majesty’s Superintendent; and, upon the

strength of these, always assume much more authority than they could

without. However, it is at best such that it may be more properly said,

that their directions are followed, than their orders obeyed; for even

the young men are above serving the king, and will tell him that they are

as free as he is, so that if he had not a few slaves of other Indians, he

would be obliged to do all his own work.”—P. 49.

Hodgson next speaks of the ravages of small-pox and drunkenness among

them, and concludes:

“... Hence, the number of Mosquito people, in their present way of life,

probably never exceeded _ten or eleven thousand_.... From the best

computation, they are not above _seven thousand souls_.”

1787.

_George Chalmers, Secretary of Board of Trade. From MSS. Notes for use of

Board._

“The present number of the Mosquito Indians is unknown. It happened

among them, probably, as among the North American Indians, that they

declined in numbers and degenerated in spirit in proportion nearly as the

white people settled among them. The Mosquitos, like the Caribs of San

Domingo, consist of three distinct races: the aborigines, the descendants

of certain African negroes who were formerly wrecked on the coast, and

a generation containing the blood of both. If the Spaniards earnestly

desired to destroy them, they could not, I think, make a very vigorous

resistance. They are chiefly defended by the rivers, morasses, and woods

of the country, and, perhaps, still more by the diseases incident to the

climate.”

1818.

_From Roberts’ Narrative of Voyages and Excursions on the East Coast of

Central America._

“In the Mosquito Shore, a plurality of mistresses is considered no

disgrace. It is no uncommon circumstance for a British subject to have

one or more of these native women at different parts of the coast. They

have acquired great influence through them.

“I have never known a marriage celebrated among them; these engagements

are mere tacit agreements, sometimes broken by mutual consent. The

children here and at Bluefields are in general baptized by the captains

of trading vessels from Jamaica, who, on their annual visit to the

coast, perform this ceremony, with any thing but reverence, on all who

have been born during their absence; and many of them are indebted to

these men for more than baptism. In proof of this, I could enumerate more

than a dozen acknowledged children of two of these captains, who seem to

have adopted, without scruple, the Indian idea of polygamy to its fullest

extent. By this licentious and immoral conduct, they have, however, so

identified themselves with the natives, as to obtain a sort of monopoly

of the sale of goods. They have also insinuated themselves into the good

graces of some of the leading men, so that their arrival is hailed with

joy by all classes, as the season of festivity, revelry, christening, and

licentiousness!”

1828.

_From “Report of the Commissioners of Legal Inquiry in the case of the

Indians of Honduras,” ordered by the House of Commons “to be printed,”

July 10, 1828._

“The Mosquito Indians are a barbarous and cruel people, in the lowest

state of civilization, and under the most abject subjection to their

kings or chiefs. They are hostile to all the other Indian nations, who

are a mild, timid, and peaceful race, and who appear to live under

patriarchal governments.... Differences so striking between nations

of the same continent, and divided by no inaccessible barriers, have

given rise to a conjecture, confirmed by concurrent tradition, that

the Mosquitos had a distinct origin. This tradition states, that a

ship loaded with negro men from Africa was, at a very remote period,

wrecked on the Mosquito shore; that these negroes seized upon the male

inhabitants of the sea-coasts, massacred them, and then, by intermixture

with the Indian women, altered the race and habits of the nation. This

tradition is confirmed by the physical appearance of the Mosquitos, who

indicate this mixture between the Indian and negro.”

1836.

_James Woods, for some time a resident on the Mosquito Shore._

In the year 1836, one James Woods, a native of Ipswich, England, went

out to Central America, under the auspices of a “Colonization Company.”

On his return, he published an account of his adventures, to serve as a

warning against other companies. He resided awhile at Cape Gracias, in

charge of a store of provisions, rum, etc. He says:

“The rum was a dangerous thing in the store, for the Indians will kill a

man for a glass of rum; and there were only five Europeans at the Cape.

I had a demijohn of brandy for the Indian king, but he was gone up the

river. He and his brother were taken from the Mosquito shore when young,

and carried to the island of Jamaica, where they were taught to read and

write the English language. After staying there a number of years, they

were brought back to the shore. One was made king, the other a general,

and although brought up in a civilized state, yet they returned to the

wild and savage condition in which their people live, getting drunk,

and giving themselves up to the most disgusting habits. No sooner had

the king heard that I had a demijohn of brandy for him, than he set out

to return home. He went to the house of a Frenchman, named Bouchet, who

came down to the beach and told me his majesty wanted to see me. I went

to the house, where the king was lying on a bed, rather unwell. I made

my compliments to him, and asked him how he did. He told me he was very

poorly, and wanted a gallon of brandy, which I accordingly got for him.

He asked me to drink, and stay and dine with him, which I did. He told me

that he loved me. I replied, ‘You love the brandy better;’ but I turned

it off with a laugh, or he would have been offended with me. He staid for

two or three days, and then left for Bluefields.... These Indians far

exceed all the Indians I have ever met with in lying, thieving, and every

thing that is disgusting. They are given up to idolatry, and lead an

indolent life.” After giving details of their ignorance and barbarism, he

adds: “They are also great drunkards, and are never easy except when they

are drunk.” And of the English settlers and traders, he says: “They are

almost as bad as the natives, and live in almost as disgusting a manner.”

C.

BRIEF VOCABULARY OF THE MOSQUITO LANGUAGE.

In language, the Mosquitos differ wholly from the neighboring Indians,

so that they are unable to communicate with them, except through

interpreters. This fact, not less than their different character and

habits of life, go to show that they are of a radically different stock.

From their long intercourse with the English, they have adopted many

English words, which are nevertheless pronounced in a manner which

renders them nearly unintelligible. Their own language, however, is not

deficient in euphony, although defective in grammatical powers. It has

no article, definite or indefinite; but the numeral adjective _kumi_

(one), is used whenever the idea of number is prominent. The adjectives

follow the noun, as do also the numerals. All nouns are understood to be

masculine, unless qualified by the word _mairen_ (woman or female). The

pronouns are twelve in number, but have neither gender nor number, both

of which must be inferred from the connections in which they are used.

The verbs have mood, tense, and person, but are wanting in number.

ENGLISH. MOSQUITO.

Man, waikna.

Woman, mairen.

Father, aize.

Mother, yapte.

Boy, tukta.

Girl, kiki.

Husband, maia.

Wife, maia-mairen.

Head, lel.

Hand, mita.

Mouth, bila.

Foot, mena.

Blood, tala.

House, watla.

Thing, dera.

Dory, duerka-taira.

Paddle, kuahi.

Arrow, trisba.

Harpoon, waisku, silak.

Gun, rokbus.

Sea, kabo.

River, awala.

Water, li.

Food, plun.

Cassava, yaura.

Bread, tane.

Maize, aya.

Fish, inska.

Iguana, kakamuk.

Stone, walpa.

Sky, kasbrika.

Sun, lapta.

Moon, kati.

Star, silma.

Wind, pasa.

Thunder, alwane.

Earthquake, niknik.

Island, daukwara.

Chief, wita.

Paint, orowa.

Curassow, kusu.

Dog, yul.

Monkey, ruskika, waklin.

Ox, bip, (beef?)

Deer, sula.

Alligator, tura.

Manitus, palpa.

Forest, untara.

Savannah, twi.

Cotton, wamuk.

Palm-tree, hatak.

Mahogany, yulu.

Cocoas, duswa.

I, yung.

Thou, man.

He, wetin.

This, baha.

That, naha.

Other, wala.

To drink, diaia.

To eat, piaia.

To run, plapia.

To paddle, kaubia.

To laugh, kikia.

To speak, aisaia.

To hear, walaia.

To sleep, yapaia.

1, kumi.

2, wal.

3, niupa.

4 (2 + 2,) walwal.

5, matasip.

6, matlalkabe.

7 (6 + 1), matlalkabe puri kumi.

8 (6 + 2), matlalkabe puri wal.

9 (6 + 3), matlalkabe puri niupa.

10 (5 × 2), matawalsip.

11 (5 × 2 + 1), matawalsip pura kumi.

20 (20 × 1), iwanaiska kumi.

21 (20 × 1 + 1), iwanaiska kumi pura kumi.

30 (20 × 1 + 10), iwanaiska kumi pura matawalsip.

37 (20 × 1 + 10 + 6 + 1), iwanaiska kumi pura matawalsip pura

matlalkabe pura kumi.

40 (20 × 2), iwanaiska wal.

100 (20 × 5), iwanaiska matasip.

THE END.