NARRATIVE CONTINUED—ARRIVAL OF THE GENERAL IN CHIEF—THE ARMY—FIREWORKS
BY DAYLIGHT—PRISONERS—INTERVIEW WITH GEN. MUNOZ—ARRIVAL OF THE
CALIFORNIAN ESCORT—“PIEDRAS ANTIGUAS”—THE STONE OF THE BIG MOUTH—“EL
CHIFLADOR”—OTHER ANTIQUITIES—PREPARATIONS FOR DEPARTURE—CARTS AND
“CARRETEROS”—VEXATIOUS DELAYS—DEPARTURE—HOW I GOT A GOOD HORSE FOR A
BAD MULE, ON THE ROAD—DISTANT VIEW OF THE LAKES—THE FREEDOM OF THE
FOREST—ARRIVAL AT MASAYA—GRAND ENTREE—DESERTED PLAZA—A MILITARY
EXECUTION—A “POSADA”—“HIJOS DE WASHINGTON”—DISAPPOINTED
MUNICIPALITY—WE ESCAPE AN OVATION—ROAD TO NINDIRI—APOSTROPHE TO
NINDIRI!—OVERTAKE THE CARTS—“ALGO FRESCO”—APPROACH THE VOLCANO OF
MASAYA—THE “MAL PAIS”—LAVA FIELDS—VIEW OF THE VOLCANO—ITS
ERUPTIONS—“EL INFIERNO DE MASAYA,” THE HELL OF MASAYA—OVIEDO’S
ACCOUNT OF HIS VISIT TO IT IN 1529—ACTIVITY AT THAT PERIOD—THE
ASCENT—THE CRATER—SUPERSTITIONS OF THE INDIANS—THE OLD WOMAN OF THE
MOUNTAIN—THE DESCENT OF THE FRAY BLAS CASTILLO INTO THE CRATER.
Sunday, the day after the events recited in a previous chapter, was
ushered in by a general ringing of the church bells, and a miscellaneous
firing of bombas, on the part of the boys. High mass was said in “La
Parroquia,” for the safe arrival of the General and his army. I now
discovered the efficacy of the “banda.” Red and yellow cloth was
suspended in front of all the balconies; gay curtains shaded every
window; festoons of flowers hung above every door, and little flags and
boughs of trees were strung in all convenient places. The decorations in
the plaza were particularly profuse and fanciful. Altogether the streets
looked much like those of some of our own cities, tricked out on the
occasion of a political festival, or some similar occasion, when
impunity is conceded to absurdity of every kind. Men, women, and
children were all dressed in their best attire, and seemed to be in high
spirits. There was a general reaction from the despondency which had so
long afflicted the popular mind; and, as I strolled through the Jalteva,
I observed that already many of the fugitive inhabitants had returned,
and that the municipality began to have some semblance of life again. At
about eleven o’clock messengers arrived, announcing that the General was
at a “hatto,” a league from the city, waiting for the coming up of the
main body of his troops. Directly I heard the roll of drums in the
plaza, and shortly after saw a large cavalcade, embracing the municipal
and departmental officers, and a body of several hundred of the leading
inhabitants, defile past to meet and welcome the General. When they had
departed, there was a lull in the city; the quiet of expectation had
succeeded the bustle of preparation; and, there being nothing more to
see, I went back to my quarters, and lying down in my hammock, suspended
beneath the corridor of the house, where the fresh breeze circulated
freely, rustling the orange leaves, took up Layard’s Nineveh, which had
been published a day or two before I left the States. I read of winged
bulls, priestly processions, and Arab bands, and in a state of
half-consciousness was trying hard to make out something about the
Yezidis, who would, nevertheless mix themselves up with the marineros of
the lake, and the Naides of San Migueleto, when the discharge of a
cannon, and the simultaneous clang of every bell in the city, startled
me to my feet, and announced the approach of the long-expected, and
long-wished-for General.
I took my place in the outer corridor, to see whatever there might be to
see. The streets were lined with people, mostly women, their heads
protected by gaudy rebosos; while every door, window, and balcony was
occupied by the better portion of the population, dressed to the limit
of their finery. The discharge of cannon continued at regular intervals,
becoming more and more distinct as the guns approached, while the bells
kept up an incessant and almost deafening clangor. The General, I
thought, was slow in his movements, and a long time in coming; for it
was full an hour before the head of the procession appeared, turning
sharp around a corner near my quarters. A mass of horsemen, filling the
entire street, passed along in utter confusion; but these, I soon saw,
were the citizens who had gone out to act as an escort. Following these
was a small detachment of lancers, who moved in entire order, and made a
good appearance. After them came a party of officers, brilliantly
dressed, preceded by the flag of the republic, around which the people
pressed in a dense body, shouting “Viva el esclarecido General!” “Viva
el Gobierno Supremo!” “Viva la Republica!” “Muerte à los enemigos del
orden!” Death to the enemies of order! I had no difficulty in
distinguishing amongst the fine body of men composing his staff, the
erect and commanding figure of Gen. Muñoz himself. He was splendidly
mounted, and wore a neat undress uniform of blue, turned up with red,
and a Panama hat, covered with black oiled silk. He bowed in an easy and
graceful manner, in acknowledgment of the “vivas” directed to him, and
of the salutations of the señoras and señoritas in the balconies. I
observed his face closely when he approached; it was animated but
firm,—expressive of his true character, which is that of a humane,
chivalrous, high-minded, and brave man. I then thought, and still think
him the finest looking officer I ever saw.
Behind the General and his staff, was another detachment of lancers,
followed by a band of music; then came the soldiers in divisions. First
were the “veteranos,” or soldiers of the line, in a uniform of white
pantaloons and jacket, a little black cap with a red ball perched in
front, a species of network knapsack, a blanket thrown, toga-like, over
one shoulder, and a musket resting on the other. This is their whole
equipment; they require no tents, baggage, or provision wagons. If it
rains, they throw their blankets over their shoulders and the locks of
their muskets, turn their pantaloons up to their thighs; and march on.
At night they roll themselves in their blankets, and lie down anywhere.
A plantain and a bit of cheese, or tortilla, or a cup of _tiste_,
constitute their simple rations, and on such fare they will march forty
and fifty miles a day, through a country where an equal European or
American force would not average ten. This body of “veteranos,” marched
with great precision and in good order, and was followed by the new
recruits, who were rather a hard looking set, dressed in every variety
of costume, and not particular about keeping in line or marking step.
Some wore only pantaloons and hat, the latter not always of the most
classical model; some had long legs to their breeches, some short, and
some none at all; but they all seemed to be in good spirits, and ready
for almost any thing which might turn up. They bowed frequently,
beckoned, and sometimes spoke to acquaintances amongst the
spectators,—improprieties of which the “veteranos” were never guilty. In
fact, the latter, who were almost entirely Indians, seemed as impassible
as men of bronze. Amongst the officers in the General’s staff I observed
a full-blooded negro; but his features were as regular as those of any
European. He afterwards distinguished himself by his bravery and
fidelity, and was promoted in consequence.
Upon the entrance of the procession into the plaza, although it was
broad daylight, a series of fireworks and rockets were let off, which
produced a great noise and smoke, but none of those brilliant results
for which they are got up amongst us, and of which the people here seem
to have no idea. The primary object appeared to be to make a great
noise, and in this they were perfectly successful.
That afternoon, a division of troops, which had been sent out the
previous day, to break up a party of insurgents, who had concentrated at
the Indian pueblo of Diriomo, came in, having effected their object, and
bringing a number of prisoners. Among them was one of Somoza’s
lieutenants, who was pinioned, and marched in at the point of the
bayonet. A litter followed, bearing a wounded soldier, half of whose
face had been shot away in the encounter, presenting a shocking
spectacle.
Before night, it became evident that a decided hand had now the control
of affairs; men were despatched to bring down the boats sent for safety
to “Los Cocos;” scouts detached to gather information; a new regiment of
enrolled men ordered to report themselves under arms next morning; and a
proclamation issued, guarantying the safety of all those arrayed against
the government who should come in and surrender their arms. The patrols
were doubled, and that night we were treated to an extra number of
“alertas,” from watchful sentinels. In the evening a council was held,
to which all the leading citizens, whatever their previous differences,
were invited, and where the General himself set the example of patriotic
forbearance and fraternization, by proffering his hand to men from whom
he had been estranged for years. The result was auspicious, and the
council resolved upon the most prompt and decided action.
Next morning, before sunrise, as I rode to take my daily bath in the
lake, I saw the General in the Plaza, wrapped in his military cloak,
drilling his troops in person. At eleven o’clock he paid me a formal
visit, accompanied by his staff. My previous favorable impressions were
more than confirmed by the interview. He spoke of the troubles in the
country with the regret of a patriot, but the determination of a
general, and sketched their origin, and the popular demoralization,
boldly and impartially. Upon general topics he was familiar, and
conversed with force and freedom. He had once been in New Orleans, where
he had seen Mr. CLAY, who appeared to have left a characteristic
impression on his mind. I found him perfectly well acquainted with the
origin and progress of the Mexican war, and with the relative parts
sustained in it by the American officers. Upon the subject of British
aggressions, he spoke with great bitterness, and in a manner which
showed how deep and ineffaceable were the feelings of hatred which they
had engendered. These aggressions, he said, made at a time when the
country had begun to recover from its distractions, and when its more
patriotic and intelligent citizens, before expatriating themselves in
despair, were making a last effort in its behalf, and for the
restoration of quiet and good government, were crimes against humanity
not less than against the State. Just as the government had succeeded in
reforming the army and restoring public confidence, when all its
resources were wanted to carry out its new and enlightened policy, it
found itself involved in a foreign controversy, shorn, on the shallowest
pretexts, of half its territories, its revenues cut off, and all its
energies crippled by a nation professing to be the most enlightened and
philanthropic in the world! He had often felt dispirited, but had
struggled on in the vague hope that the condition of the country might
attract the sympathy and secure the good offices of other nations in its
behalf,—as he now believed it had done those of the United States. The
present disturbances, he added, had been directly charged upon the
English, but however that might be, that people was directly responsible
for its consequences; for the insurgents would never have dared to
commit overt acts, whatever their disposition, had they not thought that
the controversy with England had weakened the hands of the government,
and rendered it almost powerless; and that in attacking it, they would
receive some kind of countenance and support from British agents, if not
from the British Government.
I am thus particular in giving the exact tenor of this conversation, as
it was afterwards grossly misrepresented, and made the subject of not
over-polite, but very characteristic official correspondence, on the
part of the British agents.
In the afternoon of this day, the first division of our California
escort, in a uniform of red shirts, and armed like brigands, made their
appearance. They reported that the remainder had stopped for the night
at the town of Masaya, in order to visit the extraordinary lake at that
place, and would come on in the morning. The march of the General had
cleared the roads, and as our arrival at the capital was anxiously
expected, I determined to leave Granada at the earliest possible moment,
and made my arrangements accordingly.
[Illustration: “PIEDRA DE LA BOCA.”]
In the evening I visited a singular relic of antiquity, called the
“piedra de la boca,” the _stone of the mouth_. It is planted on the
corner of one of the streets leading to the Jalteva, and consists of a
large and singularly carved stone, which had been brought here by a
curious “marinero,” from an island in the lake. The accompanying
engraving will convey a better idea of it than any description, and will
explain why it bears its present name. It now projects about three feet
above the ground, and is two feet broad by one and a half in thickness.
I had made diligent inquiry for “_piedras antiguas_,” ancient stones,
but got very little information concerning any,—no information, in fact,
except from an old priest and some boatmen, who represented that many
were to be found on the island of Ometepec, and on the large uninhabited
island of Zapatero. I had, however, no time to visit them now, but made
a note of them for a future occasion. At the “esquina,” or corner of the
old Convent of San Francisco, was another “piedra antigua,” called “_El
Chiflador_,” the whistler. It had been much broken, and the head and
upper part of the body were entirely destroyed. The fragments which
remained showed that it had been well and elaborately carved. Tradition
says that, when it was perfect, its mouth was open, into which the
blowing of the wind made a mournful, whistling noise, exciting
suspicions that it was the incarnation of one of the ancient “demonios”
of the Indians. The pious padres demolished it in consequence; but
probably less on that account than because they often found offerings
before it, which the superstitious Indians had deposited during the
night time. Another figure stood, and probably still remains at the
south-eastern corner of the great Plaza, carved in black basalt. It
represents a human figure, with jaws widely distended, and protruding
tongue. Upon the head is crouched the representation of some kind of
wild animal, of the cat kind. It is comparatively small, but well
carved, and bold and striking in its outlines. This, and “el chiflador”
were brought from the island of Zapatero.
During the day, the remainder of the American division arrived at
Granada. Including my own party, we mustered twenty-five strong, each
man withal a walking arsenal. Two days were devoted to rest and
visiting, and the morning of the third of July fixed for our departure.
The evening previous, our baggage was packed in carts, and sent ahead,
under the escort of a detachment of lancers.
[Illustration: HIDE-COVERED CART IN NICARAGUA.]
In the inhabited parts of Nicaragua, where the country is entirely
level, or but slightly undulating, carts are almost universally used for
the transportation of goods and the natural products of the country.
They are exceedingly rude contrivances, but seemed to meet every
requisition. The body consists of a stout frame-work of wood, and the
wheels, as I have already said, are solid sections, cut from some large
tree of hard wood, usually the mahogany. These are not sawed, but
chopped into shape, and with an eye rather to use than to symmetry or
beauty. The oxen, which are compact, active, and hardy animals, are not
fastened in a yoke, as with us, but to a bar passing across their
foreheads, and firmly lashed to their horns. Two pairs are the usual
complement of a cart, but sometimes three pairs are used. When the
“carreteros” have far to go with heavy loads, an extra yoke or two is
either led or driven along, to be used in case of accident, and to
relieve the others when tired. Two men are attached to each _carreta_;
one armed with his _machete_, or a gun, goes ahead, to clear away
obstacles, and to indicate the path, for the oxen are trained to follow
him; while another either walks behind or rides in the cart, and has a
long pole pointed with an iron spike, with which he “touches up” the
animals if they are inclined to loiter or be lazy. This kind of
admonition is accompanied by shouts to them collectively or
individually, for each one has a name, and with epithets more forcible
than elegant. So the approach of a cart is often known while it is half
a mile or more distant; not solely by the shouts and maledictions of the
“carreteros,” but by the awful squeaking and shrieking of the wheels,
which never fail to set the strongest nerves in a quiver. The roads in
Nicaragua are lined with fragments of broken carts, here a wheel split
in pieces, and there an axle broken in two. The axles are the first to
fail, and therefore every cart carries two or three extra axles, in
reserve for emergencies. If, however, the carretero should be
unprovided, he selects the first hard wood tree of the proper size which
he can find, makes a new axle, and in half an hour is on his way again.
The loads which are carried in these rude vehicles are almost
incredible. Twenty-five hundred pounds is the standard freight, and is
carried from twenty-five to forty miles a day, depending somewhat upon
the season. The morning, from three and four o’clock until eight or ten,
and again in the evening from four until nine, are the usual hours for
moving, for then the air is comparatively fresh and cool. Each cart
carries a certain amount of “sacate” and corn for its animals, and their
masters bivouac by the roadside wherever night overtakes them. The oxen
are fastened to trees, the men light a fire and cook their coffee, and
afterwards wrap up their heads in handkerchiefs, and if it is the dry
season, swing their hammocks between two trees and go to sleep. It
usually happens that two or more carts go in company, for mutual aid in
case of accident, and then their encampments, upon which the traveller
often comes suddenly at night, are highly picturesque. On such
occasions, some swing carelessly in hammocks, others recline on the
ground, and others busy themselves around the fire, while all smoke with
unbroken energy. Half the night is sometimes spent in card playing, by
fire light; and bursts of laughter and snatches of song startle the
sleepy traveller jogging through the forests, and are answered by the
growls of the wild beasts or the howls of the “mono colorado.” They are
stalwart, jolly fellows, these “carreteros,” and like the “arrieros,” or
muleteers of Mexico, invincibly honest. Merchants never hesitate in
entrusting the most valuable goods to their care, and I believe no
instance is known of their proving faithless to the trust reposed in
them. On the contrary, the poor fellows, when attacked by robbers, as
they sometimes are, will fight to the death in defence of their carts.
Like the “marineros” on the lake, they constitute an almost distinct
class of citizens, and in the city of Leon live in a certain “barrio,”
or ward, that of San Juan. Some of them have a large number of oxen and
carts, which they sub-let to the poorer members of the fraternity of
“carreteros,” among whom exists an _esprit de corps_ which will permit
no underbidding or other irregular practices.
The morning of our departure came, and agreeably to instructions, Ben
roused us at early dawn. We were individually ready to move at sunrise;
for, although we only proposed to go to the city of Managua, a distance
of fifty miles, the first day, we wished to take the journey leisurely,
as became travellers in a new and strange country. Don Frederico, as our
old friend, Monsieur Sigaud, at San Juan, had done before, smiled
incredulously when we talked of an early departure; but, as the horses
and mules were positively engaged to be at our door at sun-rise, and as
the man who let them was a person of mark, and an old Spaniard to boot,
we felt a good deal of faith in our plans. The sun rose, and after
walking up and down the corridor, in heavy boots, with clanking spurs,
for half an hour, with a growing conviction that we were somewhat
verdant, we were called to breakfast. Don Frederico looked provokingly
good-natured, and when Ben, who had been despatched to stir up the
laggard “_emprestador_,” returned, with the news that the men had only
just gone to hunt up the animals in the fields, he laughed outright, and
so did we, notwithstanding our vexation. We shortly found that our
escort was no better off; their horses had not yet come in. So we all
went to the plaza, and sat until past nine o’clock, witnessing the
drilling of the new recruits. All things must have an end, and so did
our suspense. The horses finally came; and, after a world of tryings on
and takings off, pulling here and padding there, the beasts were
saddled, and we marched to the plaza, where, according to previous
understanding, we were met by the General and his staff, and a crowd of
citizens on horseback, who had gathered to escort us “with all the
honors” out of the city. My young medical friend from New Haven had won
the privilege of carrying the flag at the head of the cavalcade, and
after him, under the marshalling of a stalwart Buckeye, who had served
amongst the dragoons in the Mexican war, the “Californian division” was
arranged in column with military precision. The troops were all drawn
up, and presented arms as we defiled by, under a discharge from the
cannon in front of the “Cuartel General.” The people lined the streets,
and shouted as earnestly for “los Estados Unidos del Norte,” and its
representative, as they did for the “esclarecido General,” upon his
arrival a few days before.
I could not help thinking of the figure which our singular cavalcade
must have cut in the eyes of an uninterested spectator, nor resist
smiling at my own part in the affair. It, however, was a bona fide
ceremonial, and so received and valued. As we approached the arsenal, we
found its garrison on the _qui vive_; a little wreath of smoke shot up,
and boom went the cannon there. Altogether this was more imposing than
our departure from San Carlos, and not a whit less entertaining.
I was mounted on a large white mule, which the _emprestador_ had
specially recommended to me as “muy manso y comodo” very gentle and
easy; but which I soon found was an old broken-winded beast, and a
villanously hard traveller. The General observed that I had been taken
in, and glancing round, fixed his eyes on the dashing horse of a young
fellow, deputed by the government to accompany us on our march as
commissary and provider. Directly he stopped short, and ordered him to
dismount and change animals with me. The order was promptly obeyed,—for
there was no parleying with the General; and although I thought the
proceeding rather summary, I was too glad to get rid of the mule to
offer the slightest objection to the arrangement. Besides, the deposed
horseman should have provided us with better animals—of course he
should!
Our escort accompanied us about two miles, to a point where the short
cut, or mule path, to Masaya diverged from the _camino real_; and here,
after a profusion of bows, an interminable shaking of hands, and “buenas
viajes,” and “Dios guardes,” in every tone and emphasis, we separated
from the crowd, and went on our way alone. The path was narrow, and led
through bush and brier, under gigantic trees, draped all over with
vines, down into dark ravines, where the sun’s rays never reached, over
ridges covered with grass, with here and there clusters of luxuriant
trees, gemmed all over with fragrant flowers, where we could catch views
of the glittering lake, with its distant shores, and several islands.
Thus we went, in Indian file, the red shirts and gleaming arms of the
men giving life and relief to the scene, and making the noisy parrots,
which fluttered beside the path, still more noisy; while brightly
colored birds glanced in and out of the thick green coverts, or a
startled deer bounded hurriedly before us! Altogether, the novelty,
excitement, and beauty filled me with that wild delight which only the
Arab feels, or the free Indian on his prairie ocean, and one hour’s
enjoyment of which were “worth ten years of quiet life!” My chest
expands, and every nerve becomes tense, even now, while I write, at the
recollection of that glorious morning, and that march to Masaya.
Occasionally we came upon a cane house, nestled in some quiet glen, or
upon some beautiful slope, surrounded by palms and plantains, and fields
of tobacco and maize, in the doors of which stood women and knots of
frightened children, who gazed wonderingly upon our strange party. They
all seemed reassured when we cried out “adios amigas!” and responded
with “Dios guarde à Ustedes, caballeros!” “God preserve you, Sirs!” At
about six miles from Granada, we reached the highest point of ground
between that city and Masaya; one of those ridges of land which seem to
radiate like the legs of a lobster from the great volcano of Momobacho,
and which are, for the most part, destitute of trees. From this point we
obtained our finest view of Lake Nicaragua, the river, or estuary of
Tipitapa connecting it with Lake Managua, and of that lake itself,
hemmed in, upon the east, by the high irregular mountains of Matagalpa
and New Segovia. Between us and the lakes was a magnificent slope,
leagues on leagues in extent, a sea of dense tree-tops, unrelieved, so
far as the eye could discover, by a single acre of cleared or cultivated
ground. Yet there were many haciendas and estates, the positions of
which were indicated by wreaths of smoke rising in thin curls here and
there above the trees. We dismounted, and sat for half an hour beneath a
spreading tree, to enjoy the prospect, and pay our respects to the
canteens of water, (diluted with brandy,) with which each man was
supplied.
The path by which we journeyed had been used, from time immemorial, for
mules and horses, and in many places, particularly on the declivities of
the swells of land, where water had contributed its aid, it was worn
deep in the soft rock and compacted earth, and so narrow as utterly to
preclude all turning around after it had once been entered. Upon
approaching such places, if their whole extent cannot be discovered, it
is usual to halloo loudly, in order to ascertain if any one is
approaching; for if horsemen meet in these places, one or the other must
back out,—a process sufficiently difficult.
At about one o’clock the more frequent occurrence of cultivated grounds,
of little “hattos” and cane cabins, showed that we were approaching the
large Indian pueblo of Masaya. The path became broader, and showed
constant use; and numerous little paths diverged in every direction.
Where they joined the main road, crosses were in some cases erected, on
which hung wreaths of faded flowers, perishing tokens of pious zeal. We
now met and overtook numbers of Indians, singly and in groups, carrying
netted sacks, filled with ears of maize, with vegetables, or meats: some
had braided mats, hats of woven palm leaves, hammocks, and other
articles for sale or use. They all silently gave us the road on our
approach. They seldom spoke unless first addressed; but then always
replied politely, sometimes adding, interrogatively, “California?” They
were small, but well-formed, with features much more regular than our
Indians, and of singularly mild, and expressive features, and docile
manners.
The entrance to Masaya was by a long and broad street, lined on both
sides by a forest of fruit-trees, beneath which were clustered the
thatched cane houses of the inhabitants. We had previously waited until
the rear of our party had come up, and now spurred through the streets
in a solid column. As we went on, the houses became more numerous, and
occasionally one of adobes, with a tiled roof, appeared amongst the
frailer structures which I have described. After going nearly half a
mile, we turned short to the right, and riding for a number of blocks in
streets precisely resembling those of Granada, passing an abandoned
convent or two, we galloped into the principal plaza. In the centre of
this stood the great church, a long, heavy building, with a very fair
façade and tower, and much exceeding in size any of the churches of
Granada. On the sides of the plaza were several rows of fine shops, with
their doors and shutters covered with tin; for more foreign goods are
retailed in Masaya than in any other town in the State. Its people are
regarded as the most industrious, and are celebrated throughout all
Central America for the extent and variety of their manufactures.
Cordage, hammocks, saddles, cotton cloth “petates” or mats, hats, shoes,
in short, all the articles of common use in the country, are produced
here, besides large quantities of _dulces_ (sweetmeats and jellies,)
which were, at one time, extensively exported to Peru and South America.
But the shops, in consequence of the existing troubles, were shut, and
the plaza was almost entirely deserted. Near the dead wall of the church
a rude chair was standing; it was the fatal “_banqueto_,” upon which, a
few days before, one of the leading “facciosos” of the city, after
having been tried and condemned by a court-martial, had been shot. Near
by the sod was turned up, marking the spot where the body of the
executed man was buried. He had been tried at one o’clock, condemned at
two, shot at three, and buried at four. Short shrift, indeed; but such
is the summary process of martial law in Nicaragua, when, as in this
instance, the guilt of the criminal admits neither of doubt nor
extenuation. Some of our party had witnessed the execution, which they
described as very impressive. It was done in sight of the entire army,
from which a corporal’s guard was detached for the service. The prisoner
was first taken within the church, where he confessed and received the
sacrament. He was conducted to his seat by two priests, a little cross
put in his hands, and a blessing invoked on his soul. Guns, in half of
which only were balls, were placed in the hands of the guard, who fired
at the distance of ten paces. The man fell dead at the first discharge.
The example was deemed necessary, and it no doubt was so in this
instance. It should, however, be observed, that no officer has
established a higher character for humanity than General Muñoz, who has
never stained his reputation by any of those butcheries and wanton
cruelties which have been the rule, rather than the exception, in the
civil wars of Spanish America.
We rode to a _posada_ kept by an exceedingly fat and cheerful lady, who
was so happy that her “pobre casa” should be honored by the “hijos de
Washington,” the sons of Washington! In a few minutes, several of the
alcaldes of the town came in, out of breath, and in great tribulation
because they had not been apprised of our approach. They proposed even
now to ring all the bells, and were urgent that we should stop the rest
of the day, so as to give them an opportunity of making a demonstration
commensurate to the importance of the occasion. But we pleaded haste,
and promised to return soon, and thus escaped being lionized in Masaya.
We had proposed to stop here several hours, and visit the remarkable
volcanic lake, from which the town is supplied with water, but the delay
of the morning compelled us to cut short our stay, if we would reach
Managua, twelve leagues distant, that night. So we only allowed the
horses to breathe awhile, and then mounted again and resumed our march.
We went quite two miles from the plaza before we got fairly out of the
city, which has some fifteen or eighteen thousand inhabitants, and
covers full a square league.
Beyond Masaya is a broad and beautiful avenue, lined on either hand by
luxuriant fields: in this respect far surpassing the country around
Granada. This avenue leads to the pueblo of Nindiri, and people mounted
or on foot passing to and fro, gave it an appearance of animation beyond
what we had hitherto seen out of the towns. About midway between Masaya
and Nindiri, the road passes over a bubble-shaped hill, raised by
volcanic forces from below, the uplifted strata curving with all the
regularity of the rainbow. Although it would have been easy to have
passed around it, yet as the Indians before the conquest had probably
gone directly over, the same path has been continued, for no better
reason, ever since. It however had been much improved, and a deep notch
had been cut or worn in the soft sand rock, to the depth of forty or
fifty feet, resembling very much the deep cuts on the lines of some of
our railroads. Upon one side, in a little nitch, stood a small cross,
covered with wilted flowers. Beyond this defile, the road resumed its
broad and level course, and we rode rapidly over its gravelled bed into
the town of Nindiri.
Nindiri! How shall I describe thee, beautiful Nindiri, nestling beneath
thy fragrant, evergreen roof of tropical trees, entwining their branches
above thy smooth avenues, and weaving green domes over the simple
dwellings of thy peaceful inhabitants! Thy musical name, given thee long
ages ago, perhaps when Rome was young, has lost nothing of its melody;
_Neenda_, water, and _Diria_, mountain, it still tells us, in an ancient
and almost forgotten tongue, that thou slumberest now, as of yore,
between the lake and the mountain! Amongst all the fairy scenes of quiet
beauty which the eye of the traveller hath lingered upon, or the fancy
has limned with her rosy-hued pencil, none can compare with thee,
beautiful Nindiri, chosen alike of the mountain Fairies and forest
Dryads, of the Sylphs of the lake, and the Naiads of the fountain!
Nindiri!
This little Indian village far surpassed, in point of picturesque
beauty, anything we had yet seen. Oranges, plantains, marañons, jocotes,
nisperos, mamays, and tall palms, with their variously-colored fruits
blushing brown or golden among the leaves, and here and there a low
calabash tree, with its green globes strung on every limb, all
clustering together, literally embowered the cane huts of the
simple-minded and industrious inhabitants. Indian women, naked to the
waist, sat beneath the trees spinning snow-white cotton or the fibre of
the _pita_, (_agave_,) while their noisy, naked little ones tumbled
joyously about on the smoothly-beaten ground, where the sunlight fell in
flickering, shifting mazes, as the wind bent the branches of the trees
with its unseen fingers. Quiet primitive Nindiri! seat of the ancient
caziques and their barbaric courts,—even now, amidst the din of the
crowded city, and the crush and conflict of struggling thousands, amidst
grasping avarice and importunate penury, bold-fronted hypocrisy and
heartless fashion, where virtue is modest and vice is brazen, where fire
and water, and the very lightnings of heaven, are the slaves of human
will, how turns the memory to thee, as to some sweet vision of the
night, some dreamy Arcadia, fancy-born, and half unreal!
We rode through the arched and hedge-lined streets into a broad open
plaza, in the centre of which stood a quaint old church. A few sleek
cows were lying in its shade, chewing their cuds in a meditative way,
and hardly opening their sleepy eyes as we trotted by. Beneath some
large trees upon one side of the plaza, we descried our carts and their
escort, taking what at home would be called “a nooning.” The lances of
the men were stacked together, and their horses fastened with _lariats_
to the carts, forming, with their gay trappings, a striking group,
abundantly set off by the reclining figures of their riders, who had
disposed themselves in attitudes expressive of the fullest abandonment
to individual ease. We were not long in joining the party. The officer
in command, in anticipation of our arrival, had prepared two or three
jars of “algo fresco,” something fresh, delightfully compounded of
water, the juice of the cocoa-nut, and of the acidulous marañon,—a
delicious and refreshing beverage, to which we paid our respects in
protracted draughts, not forgetting “_mil gracias_,” and sundry _medios_
to a plump, laughing Indian girl who dispensed it, in snowy calabashes,
to the thirsty strangers.
The only part of the road which was supposed to be frequented by the
_ladrones_ was now passed, and although the commander of the escort was
very willing to proceed with the carts, I did not think it necessary,
and so it was agreed that he should return. This arranged, we all
mounted again, and the last we saw of our military friend was the
gleaming lances of his men, and the fluttering of their little red
streamers, as they galloped back through the streets of Nindiri.
Beyond the town we struck into the forest, and began to ascend one of
the slopes or spurs of the volcano of Masaya. Occasional openings among
the trees enabled us to catch glimpses of lake, plain, and mountain,
more extended even, and more beautiful than those which we had witnessed
in the morning, from the heights beyond Masaya. The road passed over
fields of disintegrating pumice and lava-beds ages old, and now covered
with accumulated soil and a thick forest. At the distance of about a
league, however, we came to what is called the “_mal pais_” literally,
the _bad country_. It was an immense field of lava, which at the last
eruption of Masaya had flowed down from the volcano, for a distance of
fifteen or twenty miles, in the direction of the lakes. The road crossed
it on the summit of a ridge running transversely to the lava current,
where the field was narrow, but spreading out on both sides to a great
distance. It looked like a vast plain of cast iron, newly cooled, black
and forbidding. In places it was rolled up in frowning masses, elsewhere
piled one flake on the other, like the ice in the spring time, upon the
shores and low islands, or in the narrow channels of our rivers. An
ocean of ink, suddenly congealed during a storm, if the imagination of
the reader can picture it, would better illustrate its appearance than
anything else which occurs to me at this moment. Here and there great,
ragged masses, fifty or a hundred feet square, had been turned
completely over by the current as it flowed beneath, exhibiting upon the
exposed surface a regularly striated appearance, like the curling fibre
of the oak or maple. I dismounted and scrambled out amongst the
_crinkling_ fragments, but did not go far, as the sharp edges and points
cut through my boots like knives. At one place I observed where the
half-cooled lava had wrapped itself, layer on layer, around a large
tree, which, subsequently burning out or decaying, had left a perfect
cast of its trunk and principal branches, so accurate that the very
roughness of the bark could still be traced. But what struck me with
most surprise was the circumstance that the flood of lava had flowed
over the narrow ridge where I was standing, and that a depression
existed between me and the volcano whence the molten matter had come. It
was clear enough that the popular adage and axiom about the
indisposition of water to flow up hill, does not always apply to lava.
The explanation of the phenomenon may perhaps be found in the fact that
the surface of the lava cooling, is thrown off in fragments, building
walls on either side, between which the lava current continues to flow,
until rising high, and the vertical pressure becoming great, it breaks
through the barrier, and discharges itself laterally. Or, the
intermediate valley being filled by the melted substance with a rapidity
which would not admit of its finding its level at once, it is easy to
understand that it might discharge itself over the ridge; and the supply
subsequently ceasing, the accumulated matter in the valley, spread out
laterally and subside, in the manner here exhibited.
Not a tree intervened between me and the volcano, only the broad, black
and rugged waste of lava. I could therefore distinctly see the mountain,
and trace the ragged outlines of its ancient and principal crater. This
latest discharge of lava, however, does not seem to have been made from
this mouth, but from a lower elevation, upon the slope of the volcano.
This elevation had a reddish, scoriaceous appearance, and its crater,
one side of which had been broken down by the lava, was comparatively
small. In fact there were a number of orifices, or craters, at other
points, which had been the vents in previous eruptions. It was evident
enough that there had been hot work here in past times, although
everything looked quiet enough now.
The early chroniclers have a great deal to say about this volcano, which
was called “_El Infierno de Masaya_,” the Hell of Masaya. Its last
eruption, when the lava field which I have described was formed,
occurred within the historical period, in 1670. No detailed account of
it has ever been published, although there is little doubt that it was
duly recorded by some of the ecclesiastics of the country, whose
relations still exist amongst the archives of the Church in Spain or
Italy.
Since this final eruption, the volcano has been in a dormant state. It
was visited in 1840 by Mr. Stephens, who discovered no signs of
activity. Yet, at the time of the Discovery, it was regarded as one of
the greatest wonders of the New World. The chronicler Oviedo visited it
in 1529, and has left us a very complete account of its appearance and
condition at that period. He says:
“There is another mountain in this province, called Masaya, of which I
can speak as an eye-witness, having visited it in person, after having
heard many fables related by those who pretended to have ascended to
the crater. I once went up Vesuvius, and beheld a crater of
twenty-five or thirty fathoms in diameter, from which smoke rose
perpetually, which smoke people say changes to a very bright flame at
night. I remained there a whole night, with the Queen of Naples, whose
chief of the wardrobe (guarda ropa) I was, whither I accompanied her
in 1501. From thence we went to Palermo, in Sicily, near which is
Mount Etna.” Oviedo here makes a long enumeration of the volcanoes
known at the time he wrote, and continues: “But it seems to me that
none of these volcanoes are to be compared with that of Masaya, which,
as I have said, I have seen and examined myself. Of this the reader
shall be the judge, after he has read the description of that
mountain, whose name signifies ‘the burning mountain,’ in the language
of the Chorotegans, in whose territory it is situated. In the language
of Nicaragua it is called ‘_Popogatepec_,’ which means ‘boiling
stream.’[17]
-----
Footnote 17:
This is a mistake of the chronicler. _Popo_ or _poco_ is the Mexican
for smoke, and _tepec_ mountain, i. e. “Smoking Mountain.” _Ca_ or
_ga_ is a word used to impersonate, embody, or individualize. It
will shortly be seen that a Mexican colony existed in Nicaragua.
-----
“I will now relate what I saw. I left the village of Managua, July 25,
1529, and spent the night at the house of Diego Machuca [who, we have
seen, was the first explorer of Lake Nicaragua], being half a league
from the foot of the mountain, on the shores of Lake Nindiri. I
descended the same day to examine the lake; and the next, which was
St. James’ day, I started before the rising of the sun to ascend the
mountain, and behold the flame, and the other extraordinary things
worthy of mention. This mountain is very steep, and is surrounded by
Indians of the Chorotegan nation. Tigers, lions [pumas], and many
other ferocious animals abound here. Beyond this mountain stretches an
uncultivated plain, which the Spaniards have named _el mal pais_. It
is covered with rocks, resembling scoriæ. In this an isolated mountain
rises up to the height of a league from foot to summit. The mountain
may be three or four leagues in circumference at its base, and is
entirely different from those in its neighborhood. I know that many
Spaniards have sent descriptions of this mountain to the emperor; and
that others, on their return to Spain, have given out what they have
seen, whose relations I do not doubt. On the contrary, I rejoice that
I am to speak of a matter so well known, and that there is no lack of
witnesses who can attest the truth of my recital. Many of those who
pretend to have visited this mountain have only seen it from a
distance; and but few have ascended it. Some assert that the light of
the flame is sufficiently strong to read by, at the distance of three
leagues, which I cannot confirm.
“I left the house of Machuca in the middle of the night, as I have
before mentioned, and I had nearly reached the summit at sunrise. It
was not, however, light enough for me to read my prayers (breviary),
which I had brought with me, when I was within a quarter of a league
of the summit. Yet the night was very dark, in consequence of which
the flame appeared more brilliant. I have heard persons worthy of
credit say that when the night is very dark and rainy, the light from
the crater is so vivid that one can see to read at the distance of
half a league; this I will neither affirm nor deny, for at Granada or
Salteba, when there is no moon, the whole country is illuminated by
the flame of the volcano; and it is a fact that it can be seen at the
distance of sixteen or twenty leagues; for I have seen it at that
distance myself. However, we cannot call that which proceeds from the
crater precisely a flame, but rather a smoke as bright as a flame; it
cannot be seen at that distance by day, but only at night, as I have
said.
“But to return to my journey; I was accompanied by a cazique whose
baptismal name was Don Francisco; in the Chorotegan language he was
called Natatime; also by a negro and two faithful Indians. Although
the negro was a safe man, I acknowledge that I was wrong to put myself
in such company; but I made up my mind to do so from the desire I had
to succeed in this enterprise. I had found Machuca sick; those who
were to accompany me had broken their word, and returned to Granada;
yet I was not willing to suspend my journey, so great was my desire to
learn what truth there might be in the relations of those who
pretended to have been there. When it was no longer possible to go on
horseback, I dismounted, and put sandals of wood on my feet, for shoes
would not answer for such a road. I left one of the Indians to take
charge of my horse, and went forward with the cazique, who served us
for a guide, and who, with the negro and the other Indian, I made to
go before me. When the cazique arrived near the crater, he sat down,
fifteen or twenty paces off, and pointed out to me with his finger the
frightful spectacle. The summit of the mountain forms a _plateau_,
covered with red, yellow, and black rocks, spotted with divers colors.
Except on the eastern side, where I stood, the whole plateau is
occupied by a crater, whose orifice is so large, that in my opinion a
musket ball could not traverse it. There proceeds from it a continual
smoke, but not so thick as to prevent one from examining it both
internally and externally; for, as the east wind blows continually
here, it bears the smoke away to the opposite side from the spectator.
This crater is, to the best of my judgment, and of those whom I have
heard speak of it, about one hundred and thirty fathoms in depth; the
width continually diminishing as it descends. This mountain is not as
high on its southern and eastern sides as on the others, and looks
like human workmanship, so regular are its outlines; excepting,
however, the side where I was, which, as I have before mentioned, is
covered with rocks. There were also some caverns, but one could see
little or nothing but their entrances; and the sides of the crater
could scarcely be seen; for no one durst advance sufficiently near.
“At the bottom of the crater could be seen a place perfectly round,
and large enough to contain a hundred cavaliers, who could play at
fencing and have more than a thousand spectators; it would hold even
more than that, were it not for another crater in the middle of it,
inclining a little to the south, which can be very distinctly seen. It
appeared to me to be from forty to sixty fathoms in depth and fourteen
or fifteen paces in circumference. It might be much more; for I viewed
the opening from a very high point, and the depth from a still higher
point. On the north side, the crater is three times as far from the
interior wall of the volcano as on the south side.
“Happening to be at Valladolid in 1548, at the court of the prince N.
S. Don Rodrigo de Contreras, who was once governor of this province,
he told me that the depth of the volcano had been measured in his
presence, and found to be one hundred and thirty fathoms; and from the
bottom to the burning fluid, forty fathoms more; but a circumstance,
mentioned to me by the commander, Fr. Francis de Bobadilla, still more
astonished me, viz.: that when he ascended to the crater of Masaya,
with some other persons, the holes were in the middle of the place,
and the burning matter had risen to within four fathoms of the top;
and yet six months had not elapsed since my journey. I am of the
opinion, however, that he told the truth; for besides his being a man
worthy of belief, I have heard Machuca say that he had seen the
burning matter rise even with the top.
“I said that I beheld at the bottom of the second crater a fire, which
was as liquid as water, and of the color of brass. This fire appeared
to me more violent than any I had ever seen before, and entirely
covered the bottom of the crater. From time to time this matter rose
into the air with great force, hurling large masses to a height of
many feet, as it appeared to me. Sometimes these masses were arrested
on the sides of the crater, and remained there, before becoming
extinguished, time enough to repeat the _credo_ six times, and then
looked like the scoriæ of a forge. I cannot believe that a Christian
could behold this spectacle unmindful of hell, and unrepentant of his
sins; particularly whilst comparing this vein of sulphur with the
eternal grandeur of everlasting fire which awaits those who are
ungrateful to God!
“Towards the middle of the first crater, a large number of parroquets
might be seen, circling around, of that species having the long tails,
and called _jijaves_. I could only see their backs, for I was much
higher than they. They make their nests among the rocks, below the
spectator. I threw some stones into the abyss, and made the negro do
likewise, but could never distinguish where they fell; which proves
clearly how high was the place where I stood. Some persons have
asserted that when the paroquets are fluttering among these places,
and one looks fixedly, he seems not to see fire but sulphur. I am not
far removed from this opinion, but leave the decision to those knowing
more of the matter than myself.
“On the top of the volcano, on the eastern part, an elevation rises
up, in which is an opening like to the crater, but deeper. A smoke
ascends through it, which cannot be seen during the daytime, but which
projects into the darkness a great light, uniting itself to that
proceeding from the larger opening. This opening does not terminate in
a broad bottom, but is a funnel-shaped orifice, apparently filled with
coals. The cazique told me that, in the times of his ancestors, the
main crater was here, but that subsequently it changed its location to
the spot it now occupies. These two craters are separated from each
other only by some rocks. The ground is covered with barren trees,
yielding no fruit, except one alone, which produces yellow berries,
about the size of a musket ball, named _nanzi_; they are good to eat,
and the Indians say that they are good for bowel complaints. No birds
are seen on this mountain, except crows, and the parroquets I have
spoken of.
“A remarkable circumstance, told me by Machuca and Fr. Francis de
Bobadilla is, that the melted matter sometimes mounts to the top of
the crater, whilst I could see it only at a great depth. Having made
due inquiry in regard to this, I have learnt that when much rain
falls, the fire does, in fact, ascend as far as the top; for the
cavity becomes filled with water, which flows in from all parts of the
mountain, and remains full until it has been overcome and destroyed by
the heat of the opposing element. This view of the matter is confirmed
by what Olaus Magnus says of the volcanoes of Iceland, which do not
consume the combustibles around them, but the water which they
contain. It must be so at Masaya; for when the flame is seen at the
distance of a league and a half, it does not look like flame, but
burning smoke which covers the whole mountain. If it were fire, it
would leave neither tree, leaf, nor verdure; on the contrary, the
whole mountain is covered with trees and herbage, almost to the
borders of the crater.
“I spent two hours here, gazing and drawing, till ten o’clock; it was
the day of St. Anne; I then resumed my route to Granada, or Salteba,
which is three leagues from Masaya. Not only in this city, but even at
the distance of two leagues beyond it, the volcano gave as much light
as the moon some days before she fulls.
“I have heard the cazique of Tenderi [Nindiri] say that he has often
gone, in company with other caziques, to the edge of the crater; and
that an old woman, entirely naked, has come forth from it, with whom
they held a _monexico_, or secret council. They consulted her in order
to know if they should make war, or decline or grant a truce with
their enemies. They did nothing without first consulting her; for she
told them whether they were to conquer or to be conquered: she told
them also, if it were about to rain; if the harvest of maize would be
abundant; and, in fine, all future events. And every thing always came
to pass just as she had predicted it would. On such occasions, a man
or two, some women, and children of both sexes, were sacrificed to
her; the victims offering themselves voluntarily. He added that since
the Christians came into the country, the old woman had appeared only
at long intervals; that she had told them the Christians were wicked;
and that she did not wish to have any communication with the Indians
until they had driven the Christians from their country. I asked him
how they got below. He answered that formerly there was a road; but
that the cavity had been enlarged by the caving in of the land around
it, and thus the path had been destroyed. I asked him what they did
after their council with the old woman, and what was her appearance.
He replied that she was old and wrinkled; that her breasts hung down
over her belly; that her hair was thin and erect; that her teeth were
long and sharp as a dog’s; her skin of a darker color than Indians
ordinarily have; eyes fiery and sunken; in short, he described her as
like the devil, which she must have been. If this cazique told the
truth, it cannot be a matter of doubt that the Indians were in
connection with him. When the council was over, the old woman entered
within the crater, and never came out except to a new council. The
Indians often converse about this superstition, and many others; and
in their books they represent the devil with as much leanness and with
as many _queues_ as we are in the habit of painting him at the feet of
the archangel Michael, or the apostle St. Barthelemy. I am of the
opinion, therefore, that they have seen him, and that he has shown
himself to them; since they place his image in their temples, where
they perform their diabolical idolatries. On the side of the crater of
Masaya there is a large heap of cups, plates, and basins, of excellent
crockery, made in the country. Some had been broken, others were
entire. The Indians had brought them there filled with all kinds of
meat, and left them, saying they were for the old woman to eat, in
order to please or appease her when an earthquake or violent tempest
takes place; for they attribute to her all the good or evil that
happens to them. As to the substance, in which, according to the
cazique, this _old one_ made her retreat, it appeared to me to
resemble glass, or the metal of bells in a state of fusion. The
interior walls of the crater are of hard stone in some places, but
brittle almost everywhere. The smoke goes from the crater on the
eastern side, but it is driven towards the west by the breeze. A small
quantity of smoke comes out on the northern side of the crater.
“The mountain of Masaya is six or seven leagues from the South Sea,
and about twelve and a half degrees from the Equator. I have now
completed all I promised to say in this fifth chapter.”
Oviedo also gives us a long and entertaining account, at second hand, of
the descent of the Fray Blas del Castillo into the crater of Masaya, and
what befel him there. This will be found translated in another place.
[Illustration: MACHETE-CALABOZO. MACANA.]