mason work, and resemble a succession of large ovens. They are under the
control of the priests, and are the source of an immense revenue. Of the
strange and often barbarous customs adopted by the church here, the most
strange, the most inhuman and revolting, is that of burning the bodies
of the dead. This diabolical practice cannot be contemplated without
feelings of indignation and horror. Nations have practiced the burning
of their dead in order to preserve their ashes, but this is not the
object here--would that I could have learned an object so laudable--but
here nothing can be said in mitigation. The word of the priest is
potent, and considered by the people a mandate from Heaven. Whatever he
requires is submitted to with cheerfulness, they thinking it the will of
the Supreme Being. The priest requires a fee for his important
intercessions for the dead, as well for the consecrated tapers that burn
at the head of the corpse during the funeral services, as for a place in
consecrated ground, and prayers for the soul which is supposed to linger
a long and painful probation in purgatory, after the body is consigned
to the tomb. The friends of the dead are obliged to pay in proportion to
the services rendered. A requiem in a whisper costs but half as much as
one in an audible tone of voice, and one on high “C” is still much more
expensive. A place for burial in the earth, even in consecrated ground,
is procured at a moderate cost, but in the vaults, above described, the
charge is much higher, often beyond the means of the poorer classes.
These vaults as well as the consecrated ground belong to the church, and
the proceeds go into the hands of the priests. The vaults are not
numerous, and are of sufficient capacity only to accommodate the deaths
of a few months; but in order to serve all, the priests have hit upon
the expedient of an annual “funeral pile.” “All-Saint’s day” in each
year, is the one dedicated to this sacrilegious act. On that day the
vaults give up their dead, which are carried a short distance and
committed to the flames.
This act would be less revolting if done effectually, but like
everything done in this country, it is but half done. Men are hired to
do the work, but wood being scarce, and not expecting the priests to
inspect, they do as little work as possible, keeping in view their
reward. I can never forget my feelings, upon visiting this scene of
annual desecration; my very soul sickens with disgust at the
recollection of it. Here were coffins half-burned, exhibiting the
ghastly visages of their lifeless tenants; others having turned over
during the conflagration, had emptied the half-decayed bodies upon the
ground; some partially consumed, others still shrouded in their
grave-clothes. Here lay the head and part of the chest of a stalwart
frame, the flesh having but just commenced to decay, the countenance
still bearing the impress of its Maker. Very near, partially shrouded in
a winding sheet, were the delicately moulded limbs of a female, who had
for a brief period tenanted the house of death, now brought forth and
committed to the flames.
It will be a consolation to those residing in the States, who have lost
friends at Panama, to know that no one out of _the church_ is allowed
burial in consecrated ground; their remains, consequently, are not
disturbed. According to the _true_ theory of religion, infants that die
before baptism go directly to purgatory, notwithstanding their parents
may belong to the _true_ church. As a suitable receptacle for these
unfortunate little innocents, deep pits are dug in the rear of the
churches, into which they are unceremoniously cast; their influence upon
consecrated ground would, it is thought, be contaminating. Curiosity led
me to inspect one of these pits; what I beheld I will leave to the
imagination of the reader. I am not prepared to say _positively_, but I
believe that the true theory in reference to these infants is, that they
are not irrevocably lost, but to reclaim them from purgatory requires a
_gigantic_ effort on the part of the church.
There are many things here to attract and awaken interest in the mind,
but no matter how strong the desire for information, nothing can be
learned from the lower classes of the population. The source of
information which, in the States is inexhaustible, is here barren; for
to say that a New Grenadian _even_ knows his own wife and children, is
awarding him, comparatively, a very high degree of attainment. Pass and
inspect the ruins of a monastery or other edifice, and ask the first
person you meet what it is, and what the cause of its destruction? the
invariable reply is, “_no sabio, Señor_.” In passing along near the head
of “_Calle San Juan de Dio_,” my attention was attracted by the
movements of a little girl who, with a lighted taper in her hand, passed
rapidly along to an elbow in the main wall of the city, and leaving her
light hastily retreated. Upon inspecting the spot, I discovered that
part of the wall was laid up of human skulls, and removing a stone which
closed up an aperture, I saw a burning taper which is kept here as an
“eternal light.” I stepped into a small store near and inquired the
history of this catacomb; the response was, “no sabi Señor.” My solution
was that they were the bones of heroes who had fallen in the defence of
the city.
When speaking of the ignorance of the people, I wish to be understood as
alluding to the mass, for, in Panama, there are ladies and gentlemen of
the highest cultivation and attainments, those who are endowed in the
highest degree with those peerless qualities which are so pre-eminently
characteristic of the Castilian race. The stranger’s friend, and
friend’s protector; life itself is not a sacrifice when lost in the
protection of that of a friend. The ignorance of the mass, as in all the
departments of Spanish America, arises from a want of noble incentives;
the entire mind being enslaved and controlled by the church.
Chapter Thirty-second.
A NUN--FANDANGO--MARRIAGE ENGAGEMENT BROKEN--START FOR GORGONA--OUR
EXTREME MODESTY--SAGACITY OF THE MULE--SLEEP ON MY TRUNK--A
DREAM--AN ALLIGATOR WITH A MOUSTACHE--INFERNAL REGIONS--DEMONS--AN
INDIVIDUAL WITH LONG EARS, AND A MULE IN BOOTS--FALLING OUT OF
BED--FUNERAL PROCESSION--GORGONA--START FOR CHAGRES--OUR BUNGO
FULL--SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION, ALMOST--“POCO TIEMPO”--LIZARDS FOR
DINNER--THE HOSTESS--GATUN--MUSIC OF THE OCEAN--ARRIVAL.
There were a number of Americans in town, _en route_ to California,
awaiting the arrival of the Steamer Oregon, which was, at this time,
fully due; there were also here several females from the States,
_unattended_, on their way to the “Eldorado.” I sketched the convent of
“San Francisco” and “La Mugher,” and while doing the latter I was
watched by a nun whose pallid features I could plainly see through the
grating.
During the evening we visited the “lions,” and brought up at a
“fandango;” we did not, however, participate in the dance, but retired
in good season, designing to set out the next morning for Gorgona. At an
early hour the Philadelphia was besieged by dusky muleteers reiterating
their “cargo Gorgona?” and before the sun had shown his disc above the
horizon, we were under way. As we passed along _Calle de Merced_, I was
very modestly recognized by an interesting Señorita, who, on the
previous evening, had made to me a proposition of marriage; I, of
course, accepted; but owing to numerous pressing engagements, I was not
just then prepared to attend to it, and postponed it until the next
evening. I did not tell her that I was to leave town early the next
morning, nor did she suspect when I passed, that I was on my way, but
looked as much as to say, “you won’t forget, will you?” As we gained the
out-skirts of the city, we were hailed by half a dozen half-clad
natives, who demanded a _real_ for each horse and mule in our
cavalcade. We exhibited the strongest symptoms of non-compliance, and
our worthy collectors were soon convinced that we were _not_ the party
they were looking for; they, however, succeeded in extorting from many,
and claimed to be acting under a recent act of government.
As we arrived at the national bridge, we met a party of Señoritas
wending their way towards the city; they saluted us with “buenos dias,
Caballieros,” and said by their looks that they would accompany us to
the States, if we wished them to. Our extreme modesty prevented our
making the proposition, and we parted with a mutual “adios.” We soon
entered the forest, where the gigantic palms, embracing each other,
protected us from the scorching rays of the sun. Our cavalcade was made
up of mules and horses, some of them mounted, others packed. Our mutual
friend, J. R. Foster, whom we had expected for days to consign to the
ocean, was one of our party; being mounted on a gentle horse, in an easy
saddle, and buoyed up with the fond hope of again reaching home, he
astonished all by his persevering endurance. The balance of the party
were in good health, and enjoyed the trip exceedingly.
I was much struck, as I had often been, with the sagacity of the mule.
One of them was packed with Mr. Fairchild’s trunk, and my own; feeling
some interest in my trunk, I naturally paid the most attention to that
particular mule; and if he could have understood any language excepting
the dead ones, I should have informed him that I thought him a very fine
fellow. But just as I came to this very satisfactory conclusion, he was
guilty of a freak that well-nigh destroyed my confidence in him. We had
gained the summit of a hill, where the path stretched away for half a
mile, almost level, when mule took it into his head to run, and, to my
great amazement, he did run; I presumed he was making his escape, and
cried out to the muleteer to stop him, but he replied “mula caro algun
per comer,” and so it proved, for after running a quarter of a mile, he
stopped and commenced eating. As soon as the cavalcade came up, he again
started, and kept repeating until he had satisfied his hunger, when he
walked along in the most orderly manner, and good humored too, for his
ears were erect, and a smile appeared to beam from his countenance. At
our first watering-place, after drinking, he dropped himself down, in
the most mechanical manner, to rest. When we were ready to start, the
“mula” of our muleteer would bring him to his hoofs, all right, and off.
At 1 P.M., we reached the “half-way tent,” and as some of the party were
behind, we resolved to put up for the night. After supper we heard a
cannon, announcing the arrival of the Oregon at Panama. I stretched
myself out on my trunk in the open air, and was soon unconscious of my
situation. My spirit was restless, and, as if not satisfied with one
trip, spent the night in passing to and fro, over the route we had
traveled during the day. Now my mule would change to a monkey, and I
would ride him to the top of one of the highest trees; he would then
become instantly transformed into an alligator, and there would be left
no alternative but to precipitate ourselves into the mud below; in the
passage down I was also transformed into an alligator, and immediately
found myself covered with scales and swimming about in a pond, with an
alligator on each side, holding on to my moustache, “showing me up” to
my fellow alligators. The honors heaped upon me so excited and elated
me, that I commenced rushing through the water, and soon found myself
high and dry on land, looking around for my mule. I again mounted, and
resolved to have no farther connexion with either monkey or alligator,
but to ride directly through to Gorgona. Again my spirit lost its way,
and I found myself on the bank of one of the most sluggish and dismal
streams it is possible to imagine; the recollection of it now sends a
chill to my heart. My mule stood appalled with terror, and cried for
mercy, when I applied the spur. There was no alternative; it lay in the
route, and we must cross it; I rode back a short distance that my mule
might forget his terror; he again came up, reared and plunged, and we
immediately sank below the surface; we continued to sink down, down,
down, a damp chilly sensation crept over me, and I became stifled with
horror; now my mule blows fire and smoke from his nostrils, and a demon
of the most appalling aspect, covered with green and slime, and now
another and another, all dancing along, laughing most hideously and
biting their fingers in derision, as they contemplate their victim. We
soon reached their abode, my blood is sent curdling to my heart, and
with a feeling of horror and desperation I strike the spur into my
mule, and with one terrific leap we pass through unscathed. The demons
gave chase, but borne on the wings of fear we soon reached the other
side of the earth. Here everything appears strange; my mule has but two
legs, and wears boots and spurs; I have four legs, and a pair of
enormous ears; I am led up to a block and mounted by his _muleship_,
who, after lighting his cigar, applies his spurs; I determined to reach
the other side by recrossing his “Satanic majestie’s” dominions, and
after passing through the same horrifying scene, regained the starting
point. I remounted my mule, which now seemed to have the usual number of
legs, and after crossing sloughs and climbing mountains, we came to a
precipice which he refused to descend. After repeated applications of
the spur, he reared and plunged, and as he reached the brink of the
precipice he settled back, and I passed over his head; in passing over I
caught hold of his ears, which, pulling out, I was precipitated into the
abyss below. The concussion awoke me, and I found that I had fallen from
my trunk, and was grasping tightly the bottoms of the legs of my
pantaloons.
In the morning we had the satisfaction of learning that our mules had
strayed, and were detained until 10 o’clock. We reached Gorgona at 4
P.M. As we were entering the town, we met a funeral procession headed by
a fife and drum; the corpse borne on a bier with face uncovered,
(coffins are not used,) the mother of deceased standing in the door of
her dwelling, uttering the most heart-rending exclamations. The whole
was accompanied by the uncouth sound of a piece of old iron hanging in
the church door, serving as a bell, and at this particular time
undergoing a severe castigation. Towards evening, another corpse was
borne along with the same accompaniments. The deceased was a small
child; its head was decorated with flowers, its face uncovered, looking
the very personation of sleeping innocence.
We put up at the French Hotel, and learning that the Empire City was to
remain but one day longer at Chagres, we resolved to embark early the
next morning. We contracted with a native to take our party of eleven
for $22, and at an early hour were _en route_. We glided down the river
very pleasantly, propelled by three oarsmen, with our worthy captain at
the helm. After making two or three miles, we were brought to a dead
stand on a sand-bar; our boatmen backed up, we mounted and were carried
to the shore. They succeeded in getting the bungo over the shoal and we
reëmbarked half a mile below.
It will be imagined that we had but little spare room in our craft after
putting in eleven trunks, as many traveling-bags, as many pairs of
blankets, and fifteen human beings. This was the case; and some of our
passengers having tasted the luxury of a California life, looked upon
our voyage down the river as a hardship unendurable, and censured the
fellow-passenger who had made the contract. The latter worthy, feeling
it an unjust imputation, gave the dissatisfied gentlemen above mentioned
the privilege of taking passage in any craft that might come along. This
led to personalities, and the feelings of our party were immediately in
a state of ferment; brandy did not serve to allay the excitement, but
seemed to add fuel, and we were on the eve of spontaneous combustion.
We arrived at a rancho, where it was proposed to dine. Here commenced a
dissertation on “poco tiempo,” (little time). These two words constitute
almost the entire vocabulary of a native. Ask him how far it is to a
rancho, “poco tiempo,” how far it is to water, “poco tiempo.” If they
are employed by you, and you allow them to stop under any pretext, they
never start, but are always on the point of so doing; it is “poco
tiempo.”
We had contracted to be taken through by daylight, and we had no time to
spare; but after dinner the crew and “_el capitan_” must have their
“_siesta_.” We would urge them to start, but they were fatigued, they
would start “poco tiempo.” They would “_caro agua_,” or “_caro cognac_,”
and after a detention of two hours we got into the _bungo_ and were in
the act of shoving off, when they consented to come on board, and we
were again under way.
I omitted our bill of fare at the above rancho. Our worthy hostess was
on the shady side of forty, and surrounded by half a dozen
“_muchachos_,” all as naked at they came into the world. Our hostess had
paid a little more attention to her toilet, and seemed dressed with an
express view to comfort, her entire wardrobe consisting of a pair
slippers and a Panama hat. Our first dish was a stew of lizards and
carna; this was served out in gourd-shells, which were held to our
mouths, and the pieces of meat coaxed in with our fingers. Our second
and last dish was boiled eggs. Our cook should have felt complimented,
for we ate and drank everything in the house, and wanted more. She
looked on with astonishment at the sudden disappearance of her stew and
eggs, and said to one of our boatmen, “los Americanos tiena mucho
hambre;” and so we were hungry, or we could not have relished lizards
even when stewed, for I must confess my predilections were never very
strongly in favor of that particular species of reptile. In passing
along down, we came in contact with the carcase of a large alligator; it
had been pierced by several balls, and was now borne along by the
current, destined, perhaps, to take up its final rest in the bosom of
the Atlantic. In the afterpart of the day we were overtaken by Mr.
Miller of Gorgona, who was expressing to the steamer at Chagres the
arrival of the Oregon at Panama. Night overtook us in a most discordant
mood, and at a great distance from our destination.
We arrived at Gatun at 9 P.M.; some were in favor of stopping, others of
continuing on, the former had the majority, and we made fast to the
shore, and had another dissertation on “poco tiempo,” and after an
hour’s detention were again under way.
At 2 A.M., we heard the sound of drums, and our boatmen cry out
“fandango;” we could soon distinguish the ocean by the halo that rose
from its surface, and could plainly hear the surf as it broke upon the
beach. We could see the lights on the steamer that was at anchor
outside, and an occasional light dodging about on shore.
At 3 A.M., we made fast to the American bank of the river, and had our
baggage carried to the American Hotel. All were asleep, but we took
possession of the dining-room and spread our blankets on the floor. The
next morning we were all at breakfast precisely at the time _and a
little before_.
Chapter Thirty-third.
CHAGRES, ITS GROWTH--GETTING ON BOARD THE EMPIRE CITY--MAGNIFICENT
STEAMER--GOLD DUST ON BOARD--STEAMERS ALABAMA, FALCON, CHEROKEE,
AND SEVERN--MY FRIEND CLARK ARRIVES ON BOARD--PREPARATIONS FOR
STARTING--OUR STEAMER MAKES HER FIRST LEAP--“ADIOS”--CARIBBEAN
SEA--HEAVY SEA ON--JAMAICA--PORT
ROYAL--KINGSTON--“STEADY”--BEAUTIFUL SCENE--ORANGE GROVES--PEOPLE
FLOCKING TO THE SHORE--DROP ANCHOR--THE TOWN--GENERAL SANTA ANNA’S
RESIDENCE--“COALING UP”--A PARROT PEDLER IN A DILEMMA.
Chagres had undergone a great change; the American side which had
contained but one hut on my first arrival, now presented the appearance
of a thriving village of substantial framed houses, and appeared a place
of considerable business. (See Plate). The facilities for transportation
up the river and across to Panama, were ample. Several express agencies
had been established, and arrangements made on a gigantic scale for the
transportation of goods up the river; several barges of the largest
class, furnished with India-rubber covering to protect goods from the
weather, and lighters of the greatest strength and capacity for the
transmission of treasures to and from the steamers. In connection with
these, there were mules stationed at Panama and Gorgona, to serve in the
land transportation.
After breakfast I went off to the steamer Empire City, “prospecting.” It
was blowing a severe norther, and it was with much difficulty we reached
the steamer, and more that we got on board of her. Iron steps were let
down on the side of the steamer, and as she would roll to us, the steps
would be immersed, and as she would commence to roll back, one of the
passengers would stand ready and jump on. After an elevation of twenty
or thirty feet, the steps would return for another passenger.
The accommodations on board were unparalleled. I immediately engaged
passage and sent off for my trunk, which came on board in the afternoon,
in charge of Mr. Jas. Rolfe Foster,
[Illustration: G. V. COOPER DEL.
BROWN & SEVERIN LITH.
G. W. LEWIS PRINT.
CHAGRES, FROM THE CASTLE, LOOKING DOWN.
1851.]
who shared my state-room. The Empire City is the “ne plus ultra” of
steamers, and Captain Wilson worthy to command her. She is almost a
world in size, furnished with the greatest magnificence, her bill of
fare comprising the luxuries of all climates. The Steamers Alabama from
New Orleans, and Falcon from New York, came in, in the afterpart of the
day.
25th. The _dust_ by the Oregon has just arrived from Panama, and as soon
as it is on board we shall up anchor. There are $1,600,000, besides what
is in the hands of passengers. _Bungoes_ are coming off with passengers,
and as it is blowing a gale, the steamer rolls tremendously, making it
almost impossible for passengers to board her. The greatest dexterity is
required, for, after reaching the steps, one is in imminent danger of
being swept off by the next sea. Ladies were drawn up in chairs, as were
also the invalids. In the afterpart of the day, I had the extreme
pleasure of assisting on board my friend E. W. Clark, jr., I had left
him in his berth on board the Everett, in a very feeble state; but the
tropical fruits had operated upon his system like magic, and he had
become able to cross the Isthmus on horseback. He eventually recovered,
and was restored to his friends. Mr. Lewis came on board also. He had
lost the use of one of his legs, and was borne across on a litter. One
of our fellow passengers on the Everett was less fortunate; he lived two
days after coming to anchor, when he expired and was taken on shore at
Panama, and buried.
26th. The British Steamer, Severn, has just come to anchor, also the
Cherokee from New York. At 3 P.M., the Alabama moved off in the
direction of New Orleans, crowded with passengers. The smoke is
beginning to loom up from our chimney, our quarter boats are hauled up;
soon the windlass draws our anchor from its bed, and our steamer raises
her head, and makes her first leap for home. We passed the Cherokee and
received three hearty cheers, then the Falcon, then the Severn, and were
soon on our course, in the direction of Kingston, Jamaica. Chagres is
situated in lat. 9°, 21´, long. 8°, 4´. We were now fairly launched,
homeward bound; the waves of the Caribbean sea fleeing from us, as if
fearful of being drawn into the vortex of our wheel. I remained on deck
until a late hour; we had a fresh breeze and heavy sea; the moon was
almost full, and playing the coquette, now hiding her face, and now
casting upon us one of her most bewitching smiles.
27th. (Sunday). It is one year this morning since I took leave of home
and sailed for California. During my absence, I have passed through what
has cost many a life, and once almost felt the last pulsation. But now I
am in a fair way of being restored to my friends, in improved condition
and health. I have not heard one word from home in six months; my
anxiety can better be imagined than expressed. I can only hope they are
alive. By observation at 12 M., we are 420 miles from Kingston, the only
port we shall make on our passage home.
28th. Still a strong wind and heavy sea. We are running under fore sails
and fore staysail. By observation at 12 M., we had run 174 miles in
twenty-four hours.