As soon as daylight dawned, the natives began to swarm in the streets
with their mules, opposite to the hotels, and the people commenced
bargaining for the use of them.
The railroad was completed from Aspinwall to within eighteen miles of
Panama. Eighteen miles! When we came to traverse the route, it seemed
thirty, at least. As the rains had commenced, we were advised to travel
the Cruces route, as the Gorgorna route would be impassable on account
of the mud.
Some of the passengers who had before traversed the Cruces route advised
all the ladies to dispense with the side-saddle altogether, as it would
be utterly impossible for them to retain their seats, unless upon the
gentleman’s Spanish saddle. Most of us were provided with India-rubber
boots, and pants, and a large sombrero, as a protection for our heads.
The natives asked twenty dollars for the use of a good, plump-looking
mule, to take us to Obispo, at which place was the terminus of the
railroad; but one could get a miserable-looking animal, which, in all
probability, would die on the way, and leave you to prosecute the
remainder of your journey on foot, for twelve and fifteen dollars. For
my mule I paid twenty; and, many times during the journey, I had
occasion to congratulate myself for having secured such a gentle, kind,
serviceable little animal. I really became so attached to him during the
journey, that I parted from him with regret. Generally, the natives from
whom you hire your mules, and pay for them in advance, trot along with
the company, and are ready, upon your arrival, to take the animal.
There was great frolicking and laughing with the ladies while fixing
away on the mules. I shall never forget _my_ feelings when I found
myself seated astride my mule, arrayed in boots and pants, with my feet
firmly planted in the stirrups, ready for any emergency.
About five o’clock in the morning, I left the hotel, in company with
thirty or more of the passengers. They all travelled in parties of
thirty and forty together. Most of the children were carried across by
the natives. They were seated astride their necks, with their little
hands clasped across the natives’ foreheads; while they have hold of the
children’s legs in front. Those who have infants generally get some
gentleman to take them in front of him on the saddle.
One of our passengers (a widow lady, with two little children) was very
sick indeed when she arrived at Panama. She was advised to remain there
for the present; but, although she felt convinced that her days on earth
were numbered, she preferred to go on with the company. She was placed
in a hammock: each of her little children (one twelve months, and the
other three years) were carried on the backs of natives, who walked by
her side.
When only six miles out from Panama, she breathed her last-drawn sigh.
They stopped, dug a grave for the mother by the lonely way-side, and
deposited her remains therein. It was a sad spectacle. Well was it for
those little orphans that their extreme youth prevented them from
realizing the extent of their affliction.
A kind-hearted woman--although the roughest-looking one in the
company--volunteered to take charge of the babes until they arrived in
New York. Upon arriving at Obispo, a collection of two hundred dollars
was taken for the children. Often, since, I have thought of that lonely
grave by the way-side, with no stone, or even board, to mark the spot,
and upon which no tear of affection will ever fall. She buried her
husband in San Francisco, three weeks previous to her departure for the
Atlantic States. She was getting home by charity; and, being a delicate,
feeble woman, could not endure the fatigue of the journey. Deep-seated
sorrow had sapped the fountains of life, and she died among strangers,
far from friends and home.
Two others of our number died, and were buried on the way. One was a
gentleman whose mule had died, and he was footing it along, when he
suddenly fell, and expired. Probably his death was caused by disease of
the heart. One steerage passenger, who was walking across, died from
over-heating himself.
For the distance of six miles, our route lay over a good, paved road,
and we galloped along, exceedingly delighted with the scenery, our
mules, and the good road. “If this is crossing the Isthmus,” said one,
“I shall never believe again the horrid accounts I have heard
respecting the trip;” but, before the termination of the journey, she
thought the one-half had not been told. Soon the road became more
rugged, and we began to enter the rocky defiles, ascend the steep
mountain passes, and descend into dark, rocky ravines. The sun, which
had been shining with tropical fervency, now withdrew his rays, and the
rain descended in torrents. The deafening thunder seemed to shake those
old mountains to their very base. In an instant we were soaking wet;
for, oh, how it did pour! In a short time it was over, and the sun
shining bright and hot as ever. Two such showers as this we encountered
during that mule-back trip.
The scenery through the mountains almost defies description. There are
defiles through the solid rock, so narrow as to admit only one mule at a
time; while, on each side, the rocks rise to the height of fifteen,
twenty, and, in some places, thirty feet. These rocks are surmounted by
tall trees, whose dense foliage, blending overhead, completely excludes
the sight of the blue sky above.
Sometimes these narrow passes are so descending, as to render it almost
impossible to retain your seat upon the mule. In some places there are
regular stepping-stones, into each of which little little holes have
been worn by the mules’ feet, that so many times, and oft, have
traversed those dangerous passes. I could compare the descent to nought
but placing a mule at the top of a flight of stairs, getting upon his
back, and riding down.
Those mules are so careful and sure-footed, and so well accustomed to
travelling through those frightful places, that there is no necessity
whatever of guiding them. You have only to place the bridle over the
pommel of the saddle, (those Spanish saddles have a high pommel in
front,) and look out for yourself. In descending, we were obliged to
lean far back on the animal’s back, and grasp the crupper with all our
might. It seemed as if our safety depended solely upon the strength of
the crupper. How I cried sometimes, with fright! but then I was careful
not to let any one see me, and generally took the time for such
ebullition of feeling when it was raining hard, and the water would
unavoidably be coursing down my face.
How careful those mules were! That day I learned to love them. In going
down those rocky flights, they would hold their heads low down, then put
one foot over and plant it firmly in one of those little holes, then the
other in the same way, then bring their hind feet on to the same shelf,
then go down on to another, and so on to the bottom. Then perhaps
commence, and make an ascent equally as toilsome. They have nothing to
eat or drink on the way, and never once attempt to nip the herbage that
grows, in some places, by the way-side.
Once, as there were about fifty mules all in a line, ascending one of
those steep mountain passes, the one in advance, which was laden with
three large trunks, made a misstep, and fell. These animals are so
sure-footed that they never stumble except when giving out, and never
fall, unless to die. This one was very weak, and failing fast, but might
have succeeded in reaching the top of this dangerous pass, had not the
trunks swayed on one side, and hit the rocks, thereby causing him to
fall. When passing up those rocky flights, it is utterly impossible for
a mule to step backwards, off one of those shelves, without falling, and
as utterly impossible to turn the mule about, on account of the extreme
narrowness of the way. The fallen mule, in making desperate attempts to
rise with those heavy trunks lashed to him, as a natural consequence
kept falling back, thereby crowding hard upon those behind him. I was
seated on the fifth mule in the rear of the fallen one. Such a shouting
and bawling as there was with the natives, who were trying to
disencumber the poor beast of the trunks, and, at the same, prevent him
from throwing himself any farther back, as, by so doing, he would
endanger the lives of those behind him.
How firmly my little mule planted his feet upon the shelf he was on,
rounded himself into as small a compass as possible, and awaited his
fate. He seemed to comprehend the whole; and, by his looks, I fancied he
said, as a token of assurance to me, “I will die here rather than take
one step backwards.” Finally they disengaged the trunks from the animal,
and hoisted them up on to the banks above. As the mule was evidently
dying, they cut his throat, and lifted him up also. This scene detained
us more than an hour; for those natives seemed to make no progress
towards extricating the mule from his painful position, but were running
to and fro, bawling at the top of their voices, hunting ropes, and
ordering one another. The passengers who were far behind were calling
loudly to know what was the cause of the detention. Some were cursing
the tardy natives; the women were crying with fear; and, if a
daguerreotype view could have been taken of the scene, I think it would
have had a tendency to deter some from ever crossing the Isthmus of
Darien on mule-back.
Upon entering one of those defiles, the natives who are on foot (and
there are generally quite a number with each party) go in advance, and
keep up a loud shouting, to prevent any party which may be coming in an
opposite direction from entering, as it would be death to one or other
of the parties’ mules, should they meet. We occasionally passed over the
carcasses of mules in these places, which had been killed to afford
others a passage. We were so fearful that the natives would not make
noise enough, that we joined in the shouting, and felt truly grateful
when we emerged from the bowels of the earth.
The day previous to our arrival at Panama, the steamer Illinois arrived
at Aspinwall, with a load of passengers from New York for California. In
crossing, we all met at different points on the way.
Sometimes, upon arriving at a defile, we would hear a loud shouting
within; then we would halt, rein our mules out on each side of the way,
and await their egress. Some, upon emerging from the defile, looked very
much jaded and fatigued; others were laughing and joking. How earnestly
we eyed them, as they appeared one after another, thinking perhaps we
might see some friend or acquaintance from home.
Upon thus meeting, each party would accost the other with all the
freedom and familiarity of old acquaintances; and some of the remarks
which were passed were really laughable. Upon the back of one mule were
seated two persons, a young man and an elderly woman. At sight of them,
some of the gentlemen of our party hurrahed, which was answered by the
woman with a wave of her calash, (she wore one of those large
old-fashioned green ones,) and a “Hurrah for California!” “That is
right,” said one, addressing the young man, “take your mother with you;
if we had, we might have been spared much suffering.” And thus they
joked. Some who had been rather unsuccessful advised the emigrants to
turn back, even then. “Why?” said they, “is there not plenty of gold in
California?” “Yes, there is gold enough; but you may not be lucky enough
to get any of it.”
They gave us no encouragement as to the route over which they had
passed. All said, “Expect to find it as bad and worse than you can
possibly conceive of.” This was disheartening, I assure you.
Sometimes the trail would be quite passable, and then one could enjoy
the scenery. The tropical foliage is beautiful; and among the leaves
and branches were hopping birds of beautiful plumage, rendering the
woods vocal with their sweetest songs. Monkeys and parrots we saw in
abundance.
On the way we passed several hotels,--nothing more than canvas shanties,
with large signs attached, bearing the appellations of “Astor House,”
“St. Charles Hotel,” “Revere House,” etc. They were kept by Americans,
and at them one could procure plenty of fruit and liquors of all kinds;
but the wise ones were very abstemious, as a great deal of the sickness
on the isthmus is engendered by eating and drinking to excess in a
climate so excessively warm.
Oh, how tired we grew! and yet, at every hotel, the distance seemed to
increase rather than decrease.
Upon first entering the forests on the isthmus, my attention was
directed to what looked like ropes hanging from the trees. I soon found
them to be vines that had run up on the trees, out on the branches, and
were suspended therefrom in every direction. They were leafless, and the
color of a rope.
We crossed the Chagres River once only before reaching Obispo. How dark
and deep it looked, as we were going down a steep declivity directly
into it! We were assured it was quite shallow, and not dangerous to
ford; and that, if we allowed our mules to take their own course, we
should be carried safely across.
One young lady from Marysville was very much frightened, and kept
constantly asserting that she should be drowned, she knew. Upon reaching
the brink of the river, she suddenly reined in her mule, just as he was
going to step in. He became offended at such treatment, and shook her
off plump into the river. Such a screaming! You would have thought a
dozen women were in the river. She was brought out, and placed again
upon her mule, with instructions how to proceed, and was carried safely
over. The water was not up to our stirrups, in the deepest place; but it
looked black and deep, down in that dark ravine. I breathed more freely
when safely across.
Once we came to a little slough, over which was built a narrow bridge of
poles. I happened to be ahead at that place, and called to know whether
I should cross the bridge, or follow the trail through the slough, which
looked very miry. They told me to let the mule act his own pleasure. He
first tried the strength of the bridge by placing his foot upon it, and
feeling all about, as far as he could reach; then he turned, and went
down the trail to the slough, and there reconnoitred in the same way;
then he turned to the bridge again. I concluded he thought that the
safest way of crossing. Upon reaching it, he stopped, made one leap, and
cleared it at a bound, and came very near clearing himself of me, too. I
was wholly unprepared for such an emergency, and came very near losing
my equilibrium. All the other mules came leaping over except one, which,
I expect, was so far gone, he could not jump. He stepped upon the
bridge: it broke beneath his weight, and he fell. The lady was thrown
from his back; and, altogether, there was quite a scene.
After this, we met two gentlemen on mule-back, and of them we inquired
the distance to Obispo. The reply from one was, “I should think it was a
dozen miles, and the very worst road you ever travelled.”--“Oh, no,”
said the other, “not so bad as that. This is the gentleman’s first trip
to California. When he has crossed the Isthmus two or three times, he
will not get so quickly discouraged. It is about two miles to Obispo;
and rather a rough road, to be sure, but not worse than you have
passed, I presume.” How those cheering words revived my drooping
spirits! I felt (and every lady of the company, I presume, felt the
same) as if I could not retain my seat upon my mule but a little longer.
Every part of my body ached so hard, I could not tell where the pain was
most severe. If I had been placed upon the rack, and every joint drawn
asunder, I could not have been much lamer or sorer than I then was.
It was two o’clock in the afternoon, and we had been riding since five
in the morning, without once leaving our mules, over a road which, for
its rugged, uneven, and dangerous passes, beggars description.
Suddenly we heard the shrill whistle of a steam engine. Our lagging
spirits revived. We toiled on, and reached the top of an eminence which
overlooked the beautiful valley of Obispo; and there, far below us, we
beheld a scene calculated to inspire the most despondent with renewed
hope and courage. There was the terminus of the railroad; and on the
track were twelve long cars, headed by an engine, which was puffing and
blowing, and sending forth whistle after whistle, long, loud, and clear,
its echoes awakening the hitherto unbroken solitude of the primeval
forests of New Granada.
Those of the company who had sufficient life and strength remaining to
make any demonstration of joy, did so. As we descended the mountain, we
were perceived, and welcomed by firing of cannon and loud cheering.
Several hundred United States troops had arrived there, _en route_ for
California. They were all out on the plaza. Four or five large American
flags were floating upon the breeze from the roofs of large temporary
hotels which had been erected along the line of the railroad; and, as
fast as the road progressed, they were transported along to the
terminus. Here I saw a railroad for the first time since leaving
Baltimore, a lapse of four years.
When we arrived in the valley, and halted in front of the depot, I
suppose our forlorn, jaded appearance excited the sympathy of those
there assembled, for many stepped forward to assist us in dismounting.
They lifted us from our saddles, and placed us, not upon our feet,--for
not one of the ladies in the company could stand,--but flat upon the
ground in the mud.
One lady in particular--who rode nearly the whole way, holding her babe
on the saddle in front of her--fainted, the moment they lifted her from
her mule, and it was a long time before she recovered her consciousness.
Upon leaving Panama, she had consigned it to the care of a gentleman,
who was going to take it across the Isthmus on the saddle with himself;
but whose mule gave out, and fell with him. In endeavoring to save the
infant from injury, he received several severe contusions on his back
and head, from the effects of which he did not recover during the
journey to New York. This so frightened the mother, that she took the
babe herself; and, in consequence of thus exerting her strength to take
care of herself and child,--when those who had no child to attend to
could scarcely retain their seats,--she came very near dying.
After remaining a few moments in the mud, I made an attempt to walk. I
would go a few steps, and then fall; pick myself up again, take a few
more steps, and then tumble the other way. I attributed my inability to
walk partly to my India-rubber boots slipping on the muddy ground, and
partly to the benumbed and stiffened state of my limbs. While I was thus
staggering about in the vain endeavor to reach a hotel, a gentleman came
along, picked me up, and carried me to the desired haven.