united voices were answered by barking dogs and Mr. Catherwood, who,
alarmed at our absence, and apprehending what had happened, was coming
out with Don Miguel to look for us. I had no change of clothes, and
therefore stripped and rolled myself in a blanket, in the style of a
North American Indian. All the evening peals of thunder crashed over our
heads, lightning illuminated the dark forest and flashed through the
open hut, the rain fell in torrents, and Don Miguel said that there was
a prospect of being cut off for several days from all communication with
the opposite side of the river and from our luggage. Nevertheless, we
passed the evening with great satisfaction, smoking cigars of Copan
tobacco, the most famed in Central America, of Don Miguel's own growing
and his wife's own making....
At daylight the clouds still hung over the forest; as the sun rose they
cleared away; our workmen made their appearance, and at nine o'clock we
left the hut. The branches of the trees were dripping wet, and the
ground was very muddy. Trudging once more over the district which
contained the principal monuments, we were startled by the immensity of
the work before us, and very soon concluded that to explore the whole
extent would be impossible. Our guides knew only of this district; but
having seen columns beyond the village, a league distant, we had reason
to believe that others were strewed in different directions, completely
buried in the woods and entirely unknown. The woods were so dense that
it was almost hopeless to think of penetrating them. The only way to
make a thorough exploration would be to cut down the whole forest and
burn the trees. This was incompatible with our immediate purposes, might
be considered taking liberties, and could only be done in the dry
season.
After deliberation we resolved first to obtain drawings of the
sculptured columns. Even in this there was great difficulty. The designs
were very complicated, and so different from anything Mr. Catherwood had
ever seen before as to be perfectly unintelligible. The cutting was in
very high relief, and required a strong body of light to bring up the
figures, and the foliage was so thick and the shade so deep that drawing
was impossible.
After much consultation we selected one of the "idols," and determined
to cut down the trees around it, and thus lay it open to the rays
of the sun. Here again was difficulty. There was no axe, and the
only instrument which the Indians possessed was the machete, or
chopping-knife, which varies in form in different sections of the
country. Wielded with one hand, it was useful in clearing away shrubs
and branches, but almost harmless upon large trees; and the Indians, as
in the days when the Spaniards discovered them, applied to work without
ardor, carried it on with little activity, and, like children, were
easily diverted from it. One hacked into a tree, and when tired, which
happened very soon, sat down to rest, and another relieved him. While
one worked there were always several looking on. I remembered the ring
of the woodman's axe in the forest at home, and wished for a few
long-sided Green Mountain boys.
But we had been buffeted into patience, and watched the Indians while
they hacked with their machetes, and even wondered that they succeeded
so well. At length the trees were felled and dragged aside, a space
cleared around the base, Mr. C.'s frame set up, and he set to work. I
took two Mestitzoes, Bruno and Francisco, and, offering them a reward
for every new discovery, with a compass in my hand set out on a tour of
exploration. Neither had seen "the idols" until the morning of our first
visit, when they followed in our train to laugh at los Ingleses; but
very soon they exhibited such an interest that I hired them. Bruno
attracted my attention by his admiration, as I supposed, of my person;
but I found it was of my coat, which was a long shooting-frock, with
many pockets, and he said that he could make one just like it except the
skirts. He was a tailor by profession, and in the intervals of a great
job upon a roundabout jacket worked with his machete. But he had an
inborn taste for the arts. As we passed through the woods nothing
escaped his eye, and he was professionally curious touching the costumes
of the sculptured figures. I was struck with the first development of
their antiquarian taste. Francisco found the feet and legs of a statue,
and Bruno a part of the body to match, and the effect was electric upon
both. They searched and raked up the ground with their machetes till
they found the shoulders, and set it up entire except the head; and they
were both eager for the possession of instruments with which to dig and
find this remaining fragment.
It is impossible to describe the interest with which I explored these
ruins. The ground was entirely new; there were no guide-books or guides;
the whole was a virgin soil. We could not see ten yards before us, and
never knew what we should stumble upon next. At one time we stopped to
cut away branches and vines which concealed the face of a monument, and
then to dig round and bring to light a fragment, a sculptured corner of
which protruded from the earth. I leaned over with breathless anxiety
while the Indians worked, and an eye, an ear, a foot, or a hand was
disentombed; and when the machete rang against the chiselled stone, I
pushed the Indians away and cleared out the loose earth with my hands.
The beauty of the sculpture, the solemn stillness of the woods,
disturbed only by the scrambling of monkeys and the chattering of
parrots, the desolation of the city, and the mystery that hung over it,
all created an interest higher, if possible, than I had ever felt among
the ruins of the Old World. After several hours' absence I returned to
Mr. Catherwood, and reported upward of fifty objects to be copied.
I found him not so well pleased as I expected with my report. He was
standing with his feet in the mud, and was drawing with his gloves on,
to protect his hands from the mosquitoes. As we feared, the designs
were so intricate and complicated, the subjects so entirely new and
unintelligible, that he had great difficulty in drawing. He had made
several attempts, both with the camera lucida and without, but failed to
satisfy himself or even me, who was less severe in criticism. The "idol"
seemed to defy his art; two monkeys on a tree on one side appeared to be
laughing at him, and I felt discouraged and despondent. In fact, I made
up my mind, with a pang of regret, that we must abandon the idea of
carrying away any materials for antiquarian speculation, and must be
content with having seen them ourselves. Of that satisfaction nothing
could deprive us. We returned to the hut with our interest undiminished,
but sadly out of heart as to the result of our labors.
[Meanwhile, the blue bag which had caused so much trouble was
recovered, under the incitement of a dollar reward. It was
found to contain a pair of old, but water-proof, boots, whose
recovery cheered Mr. Catherwood's heart, enabling him the next
day to defy the wet mud.]
That day Mr. Catherwood was much more successful in his drawings;
indeed, at the beginning the light fell exactly as he wished, and he
mastered the difficulty. His preparations, too, were much more
comfortable, as he had his water-proofs, and stood on a piece of oiled
canvas used for covering luggage on the road. I passed the morning in
selecting another monument, clearing away the trees, and preparing it
for him to copy. At one o'clock Augustin came to call us to dinner. Don
Miguel had a patch of beans, from which Augustin gathered as many as he
pleased, and, with the fruits of a standing order for all the eggs in
the village, being three or four a day, strings of beef, and bread and
milk from the hacienda, we did very well. In the afternoon we were again
called off by Augustin, with the message that the alcalde had come to
pay us a visit. As it was growing late, we broke up for the day, and
went back to the hut. We shook hands with the alcalde, and gave him
and his attendants cigars, and were disposed to be sociable; but the
dignitary was so tipsy he could hardly speak. His attendants sat
crouching on the ground, swinging themselves on their knee-joints, and,
though the positions were different, reminding us of the Arabs. In a few
minutes the alcalde started up suddenly, made a staggering bow, and left
us.
[Yet trouble was brewing for them. They had made an enemy of
the great man of the district, and he stirred up the people to
hostility. The annoyance grew so great that Stephens found it
necessary to take some steps to restore amity.]
Mr. Catherwood went to the ruins to continue his drawings, and I to the
village, taking Augustin with me to fire the Balize guns, and buy up
eatables for a little more than they were worth. My first visit was to
Don Jose Maria. After clearing up our character, I broached the subject
of a purchase of the ruins; told him that, on account of my public
business, I could not remain as long as I desired, but wished to return
with spades, pickaxes, ladders, crowbars, and men, build a hut to live
in, and make a thorough exploration; that I could not incur the expense
at the risk of being refused permission to do so; and, in short, in
plain English, asked him, "What will you take for the ruins?" I think
he was not more surprised than if I had asked him to buy his poor old
wife, our rheumatic patient, to practise medicine upon. He seemed to
doubt which of us was out of his senses. The property was so utterly
worthless that my wanting to buy it seemed very suspicious. On examining
the paper, I found that he did not own the fee, but held under a lease
from Don Bernardo de Aguila, of which three years were unexpired. The
tract consisted of about six thousand acres, for which he paid eighty
dollars a year; he was at a loss what to do, but told me that he would
reflect upon it, consult his wife, and give me an answer at the hut the
next day.
I then visited the alcalde, but he was too tipsy to be susceptible of
any impression; prescribed for several patients; and instead of going to
Don Gregorio's sent him a polite request by Don Jose Maria to mind his
own business and let us alone; returned and passed the rest of the day
among the ruins. It rained during the night, but again cleared off in
the morning, and we were on the ground early. My business was to go
around with the workmen to clear away trees and bushes, dig, and
excavate, and prepare monuments for Mr. Catherwood to copy. While so
engaged, I was called off by a visit from Don Jose Maria, who was still
undecided what to do; and not wishing to appear too anxious, told him to
take more time, and come again the next morning.
The next morning he came, and his condition was truly pitiable. He was
anxious to convert unproductive property into money, but afraid, and
said that I was a stranger, and it might bring him into difficulty with
the government. I again went into proof of character, and engaged to
save him harmless with the government, or release him. Don Miguel read
my letters of recommendation, and re-read the letter of General Cascara.
He was convinced, but these papers did not give him a right to sell his
land; the shade of suspicion still lingered; for a finale, I opened
my trunk, put on a diplomatic coat, with a profusion of large eagle
buttons. I had on a Panama hat, soaked with rain and spotted with mud, a
check shirt, white pantaloons, yellow up to the knees with mud, and was
about as _outre_ as the negro king who received a company of British
officers on the coast of Africa in a cocked hat and military coat,
without any inexpressibles; but Don Jose Maria could not withstand the
buttons on my coat; the cloth was the finest he had ever seen; and Don
Miguel, and his wife, and Bartale realized fully that they had in their
hut an illustrious incognito. The only question was who should find
paper on which to draw the contract. I did not stand upon trifles, and
gave Don Miguel some paper, who took our mutual instructions, and
appointed the next day for the execution of the deed.
The reader is perhaps curious to know how old cities sell in Central
America. Like other articles of trade, they are regulated by the
quantity in market and the demand; but, not being staple articles,
like cotton and indigo, they were held at fancy prices, and at that time
were dull of sale. I paid fifty dollars for Copan. There was never any
difficulty about price. I offered that sum, for which Don Jose Maria
thought me only a fool; if I had offered more, he would probably have
considered me something worse.
We had regular communications with the hacienda by means of Francisco,
who brought thence every morning a large waccal of milk, carrying it a
distance of three miles and fording the river twice. The ladies of the
hacienda had sent us word they intended paying us a visit, and this
morning Don Gregorio's wife appeared, leading a procession of all the
women of the house, servants, and children, with two of her sons. We
received them among the ruins, seated them as well as we could, and, as
the first act of civility, gave them cigars all around. It can hardly be
believed, but not one of them, not even Don Gregorio's sons, had ever
seen the "idols" before, and now they were much more curious to see Mr.
C.'s drawings. In fact, I believe it was the fame of these drawings that
procured us the honor of the visit. In his heart, Mr. C. was not much
happier to see them than the old Don was to see us, as his work was
stopped, and every day was precious. As I considered myself in a manner
the proprietor of the city, I was bound to do the honors; and, to the
distress of Mr. C., brought them all back upon him.
Obliged to give up work, we invited them down to the hut to see our
accommodations; some of them were our patients and reminded us we had
not sent the medicines we promised. The fact is, we avoided giving
medicines when we could, among other reasons, from an apprehension that
if any one happened to die on our hands we should be held responsible;
but our reputation was established; honors were buckled on our backs and
we were obliged to wear them. These ladies, in spite of Don Gregorio's
crustiness, had always treated us kindly, and we would fain have shown
our sense of it in some other mode than by giving them physic; but to
gratify them in their own way, we distributed among them powders and
pills, with written directions for use; and when they went away escorted
them some distance, and had the satisfaction of hearing that they
avenged us on Don Gregorio by praises of our gallantry and attentions.
[As regards the wonderful discoveries which Mr. Stephens made
in his low-priced city, the story is much too extensive to be
given here, and those who would know more about these
remarkable ruins must refer to his "Incidents of Travel in
Central America, Chiapas, and Yucatan," which will be found
abundantly worth perusal.]
THE ROUTE OF THE NICARAGUA CANAL.
JULIUS FROEBEL.
[The waters which it is proposed to utilize in the construction
of the Nicaragua Canal, mainly those of the San Juan River and
the Lake of Nicaragua, are of sufficient interest to call for
some description at our hands, and we subjoin, from Froebel's
"Seven Years of Travel in Central America," an account of a
journey on those waters.]
At that time [1850] steamboats were not yet plying on the San Juan River
and the Lake of Nicaragua, and I had to content myself with the
accommodations of one of the large canoes of the natives called
_bongos_, which were then the principal means of transport between the
coast and the interior, for passengers as well as for merchandise. In
company with two Americans, who, like myself, were anxious to proceed to
Granada, I hired one of the largest of these clumsy little crafts,
manned with ten boatmen or _marineros_, together with their captain or
_patron_, all of them colored people from the interior. We laid in
provisions for a fortnight, such being the full time of a passage which
is now performed by steamers in two days.
We left San Juan on the 23d of November, and arrived at Granada on the
5th of the following month. In reference to the beauties of nature the
trip is one of the most interesting that can be made, though the state
of my health prevented my enjoying it.... An open shed, furnished with a
hammock and surrounded by a plantain garden of half an acre, was the
only improvement in an extent of more than a hundred miles. With this
single exception, and with that of the site of the old castle of San
Juan, more generally known by the popular name of _Castillo Viejo_, the
banks were covered with trees to the water's edge, their branches often
bearing a vegetation of vines, climbers, and parasites, so densely
interwoven that the whole appeared like a solid wall of leaves and
flowers.
I shall never forget the impressions of one night and morning on this
river. Our boat had anchored in the midst of the stream. Strange forms
of trees, spectre-like in the dark, stood before us, and seemed to move
as the eye strove in vain to make out their real shape. From time to
time a splash in the water, caused by the movement of an alligator, the
bellowing of a manatee, the screeching of a night-bird, or the roar of
some beast of the forest, broke the silence, and mingled at last with my
feverish dream.
In the morning a song our boatmen addressed to the Virgin roused me from
my sleep. It was a strain of plaintive notes in a few simple but most
expressive modulations. Several years later I heard them again, sung by
the Mexican miners in the subterraneous chapel of the quicksilver mine
of New Almaden in California, and I never shall forget the deep emotion
felt on both occasions, so widely different in every other respect. In
the latter the scene passed in a narrow excavation before a little altar
cut out of the natural rock, on which, before a gilded image of the
Virgin, two thin tallow candles were casting their scanty light over the
forms of fifteen or twenty men calling down the blessing of Heaven on
their day of work in the interior of the mountain. In the former, it was
in the brightness and splendor of a morning of which no description can
convey a full idea to one who has had no experience in the most favored
regions of a tropical climate. The sun was just rising, and as the
first rays, gilding the glassy leaves of the forest, fell upon the
bronze-colored bodies of our men, letting the naked forms of their
athletic frames appear in all the contrast of light and shade, while
accents plaintive and imploring strained forth from their lips, I
thought to hear the sacred spell by which, unconscious of its power,
these men were subduing their own half-savage natures.
At once the same song was repeated from behind a projecting corner
of the bank, and other voices joined those of our crew in the sacred
notes. Two canoes, covered from our view, had anchored near us during
the night. The song at last died away in the wilderness. A silent
prayer--our anchor was raised, and, with a wild shout of the crew,
twelve oars simultaneously struck the water. The sun was glittering in
the river. The tops of the trees were steeped in light, monkeys were
swinging in the branches, splendid macaws flew in pairs from bank to
bank; all around exhibited the glory and brightness of superabundant
nature.
Near the mouth of the river, as far up as the higher end of its delta,
the banks are almost on the water's level, overgrown with reeds,
mangroves, and a low species of palm-tree, the latter forming extensive
thickets in the swamps. After a distance of fourteen or fifteen miles
the land gradually becomes a little higher, and steep embankments of a
brown or reddish clay rise to some ten or twenty feet above the water.
The low palm thickets of the swampy region disappear, and a vegetation
of splendid trees, mostly exogenous, overhung with blooming vines, takes
their place. Flowery garlands, swung from branch to branch, hang over
the stream, while now and then the slender shaft of one of the tallest
species of the palm tribe wafts its little crown of feathery leaves high
over the gorgeous masses of the heavier foliage.
Eight or ten miles higher up the region of the _randales_, or rapids,
begins. Here the river, locked in between wooded hills, presents a new
character of scenery. The trees, covering the hill-sides with an almost
impenetrable forest, exhibit an extraordinary variety of forms in
striking contrast. The most interesting situation in this region is that
of the _Castillo Viejo_. Here, where the river foams over a bed of
rocks, stands the old Spanish castle of _Don Juan_. Since 1780 it has
remained a ruin, though Nicaragua has always kept a few soldiers here,
occupying a shed at the foot of the hill on which the remains of the
fort are seen. In the civil wars of the last years this place has
repeatedly been occupied and evacuated by the contending powers.
Among the rapids, that of the Castillo Viejo is the only one that forms
a real impediment in the navigation of the river. With the necessary
caution canoes may descend, and I myself have passed over it on my way
back to the coast in a bongo carrying forty passengers; upward, however,
all boats must be towed, after having been unloaded....
Above the region of the rapids the river is almost stagnant, and
the designation of the _aguas muertas_, or dead waters, is not
inappropriately applied to it. It is a deep and still water, full
of fish, with low and swampy banks, on which the palm thickets of
the delta reappear.
Beyond this latter portion of the river the Lake of Nicaragua opens to
the view. On the little promontory formed by the lake and the inlet of
the river the custom-house of Nicaragua, designated by the high-sounding
name of the "fort of San Carlos," has been established. There are a few
houses at this place, and a small military force is kept up to protect
the establishment and, in case of necessity, enforce the payment of the
dues. The ruins of an old Spanish castle still exist here, but they are
hidden among the trees and shrubs with which they are overgrown.
The view from this elevation has a peculiar character of grandeur. At
the foot of the hill a broad sheet of water is spread, studded, in
the immediate neighborhood, with some green islands of diminutive
dimensions, and extending, in a northwesterly direction, as far as the
eye can reach. To the left, a low wooded shore begins at the outlet
of the lake, and continues in that direction till it is lost in the
distance of the western horizon. A chain of high mountains, cast in a
shroud of dark forests, rises in the rear, covering an unknown region
of Costa Rica. It comprises several active volcanoes, which on late
occasions have illumined the surface of the lake by their flames and
red-hot streams of lava. To the right, the view does not extend beyond
the nearest hills; but at a short distance from the lake it ranges over
a long line of broken eminences, with the mountain-chain of Chontales in
the rear, bordering like a wall the table-land of Upper Mosquitia. Hill
and dale, forests and savannas, appear in endless variety in this
direction. On the distant horizon in the centre of the view the two
cones of the island of Ometepe are seen, faintly traced, and as their
forms are lifted upward by refraction, they seem to swim over the water.
At the very spot where the San Juan River leaves the lake the Rio Frio
enters it. This is a river coming down from the mountains of Costa Rica,
through an absolute wilderness which, it is asserted, has never been
trodden by the foot of a civilized man. The dense forests of this region
are inhabited by a warlike tribe of Indians who refuse to have any
intercourse with the rest of the world. They are said to be of very fair
complexion, a statement which has caused the appellation of _Indios
blancos_ or _Guatusos_,--the latter name being that of an animal of
reddish-brown color, and intended to designate the color of their hair.
It is stated that not only do they not allow a foreigner to enter their
territory, but that they are even in the habit of killing those of
their own people who again fall into their hands after having been away
among the civilized inhabitants of the neighboring settlements....