AMUSEMENTS IN LEON—COCK FIGHTING—“PATIO DE LOS GALLOS”—DECLINE OF THE
COCK PIT—GAMING—BULL BAITING—NOVEL RIDING—“UNA SAGRADA FUNCION,” OR
MYSTERY—A POEM, AND A DRAMA—“UNA COMPANIA DE FUNAMBULOS,” OR ROPE
DANCERS—GREAT ANTICIPATIONS—A NOVEL THEATRE—THE PERFORMANCE—“LA
JOVENA CATALINA,” AND THE “ECCENTRIC CLOWN, SIMON,”—“TOBILLOS
GRUESOS,” OR “BIG ANKLES.”—“FIESTAS,” AND SAINTS’ DAYS—THE “FIESTA”
OF ST. ANDREW—DANCE OF THE DEVILS—UNEARTHLY MUSIC—ALL-SAINTS’ DAY—A
CARNIVAL IN SUBTIABA—AN ABRUPT CONCLUSION.
The novelty of a first visit once worn off, there is little to interest
the stranger in Leon. There are no “stated” amusements, except at the
cock-pit, which is open every Sunday afternoon. This is always crowded,
but not often visited by the better portion of the population. It is a
smooth spot of ground in the court-yard of the proprietor’s house,
fenced in by canes to the height of about four feet, surrounded by high
benches, and covered with a thatched roof. In the corridors of the house
are little stalls, in which the cocks are kept, and here the wife and
daughters of the proprietor sell chocolate and dulces to the visitors.
No liquors are allowed upon the premises; and the Government, with a
wise prevision, has always an alcalde and a file of soldiers present to
preserve order. Visitors are admitted at a medio a head, and each one is
at liberty to bring his “bird” with him. If a match cannot be made
otherwise, the proprietor is obliged to accept the challenge of any of
his visitors. A certain sum is paid to him on each cock entered,
one-fourth of which goes into the city treasury. I visited the place but
once, and suppose that the manner of fighting the cocks can afford but
little, of what, I believe, is called “sport.” After a match was made
up, the cocks had long, sword-shaped gaffs, double-edged, sharp as
needles, and in some cases three or four inches long, bound on their
legs, with which they almost invariably crippled themselves in their
preliminary manœuvers. The contests were consequently very brief; one or
two passes generally finished them. The bets were never high, but the
excitement none the less in consequence. In former times, the proprietor
told me, he numbered all the “caballeros” of the city amongst his
visitors, and then golden ounces were wagered instead of dirty
rials,—and he drew a handful of the latter from his pocket with a
contemptuous sneer, and then violently thrust them back again. He longed
for a change; any change would be acceptable to him which should bring
back the caballeros and the golden ounces!
But because the more respectable people of Leon do not frequent the
cock-pit, it is not to be inferred that they are wholly averse to the
species of amusement practised there. On the contrary, in the back
corridors of the houses,—and in none more frequently than in those of
the padres,—a dozen fine cocks may almost always be found, or at all
events heard, if not seen. Quiet little parties are got up of
afternoons, cocks fought, and not unfrequently, on such occasions, if
report speaks true, golden ounces find themselves suddenly transferred
from one “bolsa” to another.
Gaming is a passion amongst the people of all Spanish America. But in
Nicaragua it is conducted with less publicity and perhaps to a less
extent than in most of the Spanish States. Nevertheless, I heard of
instances during my residence in the country, in which thousands of
dollars had changed hands in a single evening. The game is, I believe,
universally, the well-known “_monte_.” There are several billiard-rooms
in Leon, which seemed to be always full; but they were not very elegant
nor even clean. And in the Calle Real there was a licensed gaming-house,
“Casa de Juego,” the only one, I believe, in the city. It was crowded
every night by the lower classes of the population. The gambling, as
might be inferred from the character of its frequenters, was of a petty
kind,—of the “dirty rial” order of our friend of the “patio de los
gallos.”
Central America commenced its Republican career with very sweeping
reforms, taking the United States for its model. Amongst the earliest
acts of its government was the prohibition of bull-fighting. The old
taste for that amusement has not, however, died out, but has assumed a
somewhat different form. It was a festival week in the barrio of the
Calvario,—_what_ festival I do not remember, for there was no end to the
fiestas and saint’s days,—and we were told that it was to end with “uno
juego de los toros,” or bull baiting, (as near as I could understand
it,) in the plaza of the church of that district. In fact the cura
waited upon us in person, and invited us to attend. We went in the
afternoon, and found a high, strong fence built around the square, with
a supplementary enclosure outside, leading into the larger one by a
narrow passage closed with heavy bars. The roof and towers of the church
were covered with people, mostly women, and amongst them was a band of
music. All around the square, and clinging to the fence was a swarm of
naked muchachos, and outside of these a great number of horsemen, who,
seated on their steeds, could distinctly witness the whole performance.
Amongst these we took up our position, the crowd giving us the most
commanding place, while an officious alcalde whipped the boys off the
fence in front, so as to allow an uninterrupted view. The music kept up
a great noise, but the crowd had waited a long time, and were impatient,
and assuming the universal prerogatives of crowds, cried out to the
musicos “to stop their noise,” and to the managers “to bring in the
bulls.” Directly the bars of the smaller enclosure were raised, and a
horseman dashed in with a lasso attached to his saddle, dragging after
him a large black bull, by the horns. He drove at full gallop around the
square, and then adroitly pulled the bull, which was now furious, to a
stout post in the centre, where by a few dexterous evolutions he
fastened him securely, with his head motionless against the post. Three
or four men now approached, and cautiously, and with much difficulty,
fastened an “albardo” or common saddle of the country on the back of the
bull, securing it firmly by bands around the body of the animal.
Fireworks were then fastened to its horns and tail, and an invitation
extended to whoever might choose _á manejar el toro_. Two or three
stalwart fellows, ambitious of distinction, volunteered, one of whom was
chosen. He mounted very adroitly, and securing himself in his seat, the
fireworks were lighted, and the rope cut. The bull bounded away amidst
the explosion of bombas, the beating of drums, and the shouts of the
multitude, foaming with rage, making awkward but prodigious leaps, and
driving at every object which came in view. There were three or four
horsemen in the ring with staves having a little red flag at one end,
and a sharp spike at the other. These they alternately dashed before the
eyes of the bull, or drove into his flanks. When the fireworks commenced
to explode, the toro no longer made at any particular object, but dashed
blindly from side to side, throwing the rider from his seat into the
dust, where, for a moment, I thought he would be trampled to death, but
he scrambled up and made a rapid retreat, evidently more frightened than
hurt, over the barricade, amidst the jeers of the crowd, who would have
been better satisfied if he had come off with a broken limb or two, or
had been killed outright. The exertion was too much for the bull
himself, and after chasing the horsemen around for awhile, he marched
off, with his tongue hanging from his mouth, and covered with foam, into
a corner of the enclosure. There was no more sport to be got out of him,
and the crowd vociferated “take him away! take him away!” So one of the
horsemen threw a lasso over his horns and dragged him out.
Another bull was then introduced, and the same process repeated. But
this time the rider kept his seat to the end, and for his skill or good
luck, got a plentiful supply of vivas from the boys, and of waving of
scarfs from the women. It is impossible to describe the excitement of
the multitude during the active parts of the exhibition; some stamped
and leaped about, and all shouted at the top of their lungs. When the
bull lacked spirit, they cried “away with the old cow! take away the
heifer!” and stoned him from the enclosure. I soon got enough of the
exhibition, and would have gone off, but the cura prevailed on me to
stay for the final act, which he said would be “muy glorioso,” very
glorious. Four bulls were then let loose together, but this time the
officer in command of the file of soldiers which was present, permitted
no riders. The precaution was a wise one, for only a few months before
two men had been killed by way of a “grand finale.” The bulls, maddened
by the noise and fireworks flashing in their eyes and whizzing in their
ears, attacked each other with the greatest fury, and one was dragged
out dead from the encounter. His flesh was claimed for the poor of the
barrio, and according to usage he was surrendered to them. This kind of
amusement I found was a favorite one throughout the State.
I subsequently witnessed an exhibition of a different kind, in the same
place. It was announced as “_Una Sagrada Funcion_,” sometimes called
“_Sainete_,” a solemnity or mystery. It fell on a clear moonlight night,
and was one of the most singular spectacles which can be imagined. A
kind of stage was erected upon one side of the plaza, raised some six
feet from the ground, with a place behind, concealed by variously
colored cloths, for the participants. In front was a framework of wood,
supporting a great number of flaring tallow candles. When we reached the
plaza it was crowded with spectators. Many had brought their chairs with
them, and were seated in a semi-circle, in front of the stage, but most
were standing in groups and engaged in earnest conversation. All the
gallants were out, and nearly all carried long naked Toledos under their
arms,—a common practice on the occasion of night gatherings. The law,
however, forbids pistols, as well as swords or knives under a certain
length. It was a famous opportunity for all kinds of intrigue, and I
soon began to suspect that there would be more love-making than anything
else during the “funcion.” But what I saw and heard bearing upon this
point, is neither here nor there. Enough for me to say, I got a
comfortable seat in the midst of a bevy of the fairest señoritas, and
enjoyed the “funcion” as much as the best of them.
In front of the stage was a kind of orchestra, made up of an infinitude
of fiddles and cracked clarionets, which discoursed most melancholy
music, for half an hour after we came upon the ground. At the end of
that time, it was announced that Señor Z., a young man who wrote poetry
and wore his hair long, after the manner of bardlings the world over,
would recite an appropriate poem. The Señor came forward, bowed low, and
after telling us what he proposed to say in plain prose, commenced his
poem. It related to Christ, dealt largely in superlatives, and
complimented our Saviour much after the manner a love-sick youth might
be supposed to address his mistress. The only redeeming point was the
manner, and the clear, distinct enunciation with which it was given. It
was listened to with attention, and vehemently applauded at its close.
While the speaker was in the midst of his heroics, and the entire
assemblage silent, I heard a heavy regular tramp, and turning, saw a
detachment of troops, marching slowly through the crowd, their arms
glancing in the moonlight. They defiled into the shade, close to the
wall of the church, and at the word of command, their muskets came down
with a startling clang upon the pavement. There they stood, like bronze
statues during the whole evening. This incident will illustrate the
condition of the country better than an essay.
After the poem, the music struck up again, and we were treated to a
lugubrious song by two men and three women, but I could not make out
what it was about. Vocal music is certainly at a low ebb in Nicaragua;
_nasal_ music, however, is flourishing. Fortunately the people make no
pretensions to musical accomplishments, and thus criticism is disarmed.
A kind of drama, in two acts, borrowed from the Bible, followed the
vocal entertainments, in which a shallow, rattling character or clown
was introduced, with other comic accessories. This was by far the best
part; the clown was a rare fellow, and acquitted himself well; but the
serious part was very serious. The characters talked in a kind of
monotonous recitative, like automatons, and without a particle of
action. An hour’s endurance of this was enough for a Christian, and
throwing some silver in the box of a man who went round for the purpose
of making a collection for the benefit of the church, I left, in company
with the señoritas, who inquired if similar “funcions” were common in
the United States? I told them yes, but that our padres consigned all
those who frequented them to the demonio, whereupon the señoritas opened
their big, black eyes, and ejaculated “Mira!” do tell!
But all these “funcions” paled before an exhibition by “Una Compañia
Española de Funámbulos,” under the direction of Sr. D. Pedro Serrate,
which came to Leon shortly after our arrival. It made a great sensation
amongst the people, whose curiosity was raised to the highest degree by
flaming handbills, reciting the wonderful feats to be performed by “la
hermosissima Jovena Catalina,” “by the most beautiful young Kitty,” and
the equally astonishing extravagances of the “eccentric clown Simon,”
all of which “the enlightened and _dignified_ public of Leon” (thus ran
the invitation) were solicited to felicitate themselves by
witnessing,—admittance two rials, niños (little ones) one rial, and
niñitos (_very_ little ones) a medio only. The following Sunday, at
three o’clock, was the time fixed for the performance. We were all
specially invited to attend by Señor Serrate in person, and of course
accepted the invitation. Meantime the excitement became universal; it
was as good as a revolution, and not half as dangerous. As the time
approached, men marched through the streets, beating the rappel at the
corners, which was the signal for gathering. The next thing to be seen
was a swarm of servants, carrying chairs for their masters and
mistresses; and then came the masters and mistresses themselves, in gala
dress. I had not yet seen such an exhibition of satin slippers! We fell
into the movement, and duly brought up at the house where the
“Funámbulos” or rope-dancers, had established themselves. It belonged to
one of the most respectable citizens of Leon, who had patriotically
permitted it to be used for this interesting occasion. Soldiers were
stationed at the door to keep out the rabble, which blockaded the
street, and devised all sorts of ingenious methods to get a glimpse of
the mysteries within. Here the wife of Señor Serrate received the rials
with a courtesy and “mil gracias” for each. The building had a large
square court, shaded by high trees, and surrounded by a broad corridor,
raised a foot or two above the ground. Upon one side of the courtyard
was erected a temporary, carpeted stage, which extended out into the
area. Behind this was a gaudily painted curtain, concealing the
penetralia within which the performers were to retire after their
respective efforts. Altogether it was not a bad substitute for a
theatre. The corridor corresponded to the dress circle, the courtyard to
the pit, and the roof to the gallery. But I am at a loss where to class
the occupants of the trees! The place was already crowded when we
arrived; the Chief of the State, the General, in fact all the principal
inhabitants, comprising the beauty and fashion of Leon, and full
two-thirds of all the padres, were present. All seemed at their ease,
and, including the ladies, smoked cigaritos. A seat was cleared for me
by the side of the General, and the rest of our party took up their
positions near by. The orchestra played with terrible energy, and some
hens, perched amongst a lot of boys, in the trees, frightened at this
unusual scene, cackled with equal vigor. The ground within the court was
covered with muchachos, and nurses with children, who were wrought up to
an alarming state of impatience, and only kept within the bounds of
propriety by the canes of the vigilant alcaldes.
After an interval, a messenger approached the Director, and inquired if
it was his pleasure the performance should begin; to which an
affirmative response was given. The manager of the “Funámbulos” then
came forward and announced the “hermosissima Jovena Catalina,” who would
exhibit her dexterity on the tight rope. The next moment the Jovena
advanced, and was, as the newspapers say, “rapturously received.” She
was dressed quite after the fashion of similar performers at home, in
skirts equally brief, and seemed to me quite as dexterous. But she had
monstrous ankles, and a foot none of the smallest, and was unmercifully
criticised, particularly by the female spectators. “Mira!” exclaimed a
belle by my side, who lifted her tiny hands in astonishment, “_Valgame
Dios! es una pateza Inglesa!_” “See! Good Heavens! it is an English
paw!” I glanced cautiously down at the little slippered feet at my
side—they were really very small. My fair friend saw the movement, but
nothing abashed, thrust them out the further, and rogueishly inquired,
“How do you like them?” I professed to be looking for a fallen cigarito,
but the dodge wouldn’t answer. The Jovena, in a country where hardly any
one who has his peculiarity escapes a nick-name, went afterwards by the
unpoetical designation of “Tobillos gruesos”—“Big ankles!”
The Jovena had a sister, who was beautiful, and while she remained in
the city, the reigning toast of the young officers and of the gallants
generally. She however did not possess the skill of “Tobillos gruesos,”
but danced passably, and was very well in pantomime. The “eccentric
clown, Simon,” seemed to be the most popular feature of the exhibition;
and although he was not always over-delicate, seldom failed to “bring
down the house” by his hits. I was not long in discovering that the
entire people had a keen appreciation of drollery, and what would
perhaps be called “serious joking;” and have often witnessed impromptu
scenes amongst the _mozos_ by the roadside, or in the little villages,
which were irresistibly comic, and saving time and place, might have
been the originals from which Cervantes drew his immortal pictures.
After the performances on the rope, we had tumbling, in which two smart
little boys, sons of the “director” of the Funambules, the clown, and a
_woman_ took part. But the Leonesas were shocked that one of the “bello
sexo” should descend to that, and expressed their disapprobation in such
a manner, that she never made her appearance again in the character of a
“volteadora.” Then came a pantomime, in which a fussy, gouty Englishman,
travelling in Spain, and ignorant of the language, was the principal
character. His mishaps created great merriment, and the raggedest boy in
the _patio_ seemed glad to have an opportunity of laughing at John Bull;
who, as I have before said, is nowhere in the world more cordially hated
than in Nicaragua.
It was quite sundown when Señor Serrate came forward and thanked his
auditors for the honor of their attendance; and then the Jovena Catalina
invited them all, in the choicest Castilian, to come again on the Sunday
following. The “Funambulos,” I may add, had a brilliant and profitable
season of a month; and when they left, received a testimonial from the
citizens, who “thought it worthy of remark, that in this exhibition the
public had not, as on other occasions, been driven to the hard necessity
of listening to indecent dialogues, to the prejudice of morals and good
taste, or of abstaining from visiting the exhibition.” The “Correo del
Istmo” also complimented them as having “performed with skill and
excellence,” and with these recommendations they departed on a tour of
the State.
[Illustration: STREET VIEW IN LEON—CALLE DE SAN JUAN.]
I have said, at the commencement of this chapter, that there were no
stated amusements in Leon; perhaps, however, the various fiestas and
saints’ days should come under that denomination. At any rate they were
celebrated in anything but a serious manner; they were general holidays,
in which everybody dressed in his best, and the more bombas fired and
bells rung, the more “alegre” the occasion, and the greater the honor to
the saints. As a consequence, being situated in the vicinity of the
principal churches, we were treated to a “Fourth of July” as often as
twice a week. Sometimes lines of bombas were arranged, not only around
the churches, but on their roofs, and over their towers, with large ones
at intervals, which, when they exploded, made a noise like a cannon.
These were set off almost invariably in the daytime, and produced a
deafening sound, like the rolling discharge of musketry under a
cannonade, for nearly half an hour, creating a dense smoke, and filling
the air with sulphurous odors. The bells were rung the while, and
everybody seemed delighted, and none more so than the muchachos, who,
like the _gamins de Paris_, swarmed everywhere, and were the foremost in
all public demonstrations.
The fiesta of St. Andrew was celebrated with some novel features, and
particularly commended itself to the muchachos. It was signalized by “un
baile de los demonios,” a dance of the devils. The devils were dressed
in the most fantastic manner, wore masks, and sported barbed tails. One
shrouded in black displayed a grinning death’s head beneath his
half-parted veil, and kept time to the music with a pair of veritable
thigh bones. The dance, I should think, had been borrowed from the
Indians; the music certainly was. It was almost unearthly, such as
Cortez describes on the night of his retreat from Mexico, “which carried
terror to the very souls of the Christians.” It is impossible to
describe the strange instruments. One consisted of a large calabash,
over which was stretched the skin of some animal; this, when pressed in,
recoiled with a dull, sullen noise, like the suppressed bellow of a wild
beast, and the wail of some of the long reeds was like that of a man in
the agonies of a violent death. The devils went whisking through the
principal streets, followed by a gaping crowd, and entered all the
principal houses, where, after a dance in the courtyard, they expected
either to receive a rial or two, or to be treated to a dram of agua
ardiente. They favored me with an extra display of their demoniacal
abilities,—but were high-spirited devils, and declined to receive money
from a stranger.
Another class of dancers, dressed in a profusion of tinsel, but not
aspiring to the distinction of devils, parade the streets on certain
saints’ days, visiting all the houses where the heads of the family bear
the name of the saint, where they expect a gratuity or a treat, in
return for an exhibition of their skill. As I soon lost all track of the
saints, I do not remember which were supposed to be propitious to this
kind of diversion.
All-Saints’ day was distinguished by a grand procession of all the
saints, not excepting the little ebony San Benito, who, after airing
themselves through the principal streets, visited the various churches
in succession, including the Cathedral of Subtiaba, where there were
some very curious and complicated ceremonies. The afternoon of this day
was celebrated as a kind of carnival amongst the Indians of that
municipality. It is their prerogative, on that occasion, to pelt all
visitors with oranges, and to form rings of dancers around them, from
which exit can only be procured by the payment of a certain sum to the
church. Almost every one in the city went down, including the officers
of State, whose position gave them no immunity,—on the contrary, they
got more than their just share of the pelting. But as the visitors are
usually mounted, a rapid retreat is always made, when the storm of the
golden missiles grows too severe. I made it a point of duty to see
everything, and accordingly rode to Subtiaba just before sunset, where
the first object I saw was a venerable Doctor of Medicine, bareheaded,
spurring at full speed, and dodging from side to side under a shower of
oranges discharged upon him from an ambuscade. For it is considered a
capital joke with the muchachos, to lie in wait under a ruin, or amongst
the bushes, and let off a volley upon the unsuspecting horseman. When I
entered the plaza it was occupied by groups of people, moving from side
to side, shouting and laughing, in a furor of excitement and frolic,
while the air was full of missiles. A few were discharged at me, but as
soon as I was recognized, I was exempted from the usual ordeal. Suddenly
I saw a movement in the direction of the cabildo, and the next moment
was saluted with “Vivan los Estados Unidos!” “Vivan los amigos de
Nicaragua!” These were given with the greatest enthusiasm.[20]
-----
Footnote 20:
“On the day set apart for the festival of All Saints, the shops are
closed and business suspended. About ten o’clock the procession
commences from the Cathedral. A troop of military, marching to a slow
tune, lead the way, and are followed by six of the finest Indian girls
that can be procured, bearing large wax candles, and dressed in the
ancient costumes of their tribes, accompanied by the great drum,
carried on the back of an Indian, and beaten by two others. These are
succeeded by men bearing on their shoulders wooden platforms, on which
are placed images of saints. Other representations of beatified
cardinals and bishops follow, escorted by angels with spreading wings.
Then succeeds an immense statue of St. Peter, bearing the keys, and
supported by angels on each side. Other images pass forward in
succession, and immediately precede the Host, which is carried under a
splendid canopy, and accompanied by the archbishop and the dignified
clergy. The various orders of friars, the priests, and the collegiate
students, in their robes, follow; and fresh images of saints and
angels, with a new troop of military, bring up the rear.... The
setting out and return to the Cathedral are notified by frequent
discharges of sky-rockets.”—_Dunn’s Guatemala_, p. 114.
-----
Posts were planted around the plaza, to which a double line of bombas
was attached. These were to be let off (for a wonder) after dark, and my
friend Simon Roque was urgent that I should stay to witness the
explosion, and even offered to anticipate the hour fixed for lighting
them; but I had had enough of bombas for a lifetime, and rode home in
the twilight. The streets were full of life, and the band stationed upon
the steps of the grand Cathedral played the national anthem, while the
soldiers grouped around the various “cuartels” joined in the chorus. For
once, thanks to the darkness, I escaped the eternal presentation of arms
and beat of drum, with which I was always received in the plaza, and
which induced me to avoid entering it, except in cases of necessity. I
sat on my horse for a quarter of an hour, listening to the music and the
merriment, and speculated whether, after all, spite of unstable
governments, and destitute of all those accessories which, according to
our utilitarian ideas, are necessary to the popular welfare,—whether the
people of Leon were not on the whole happier and more contented than
those of any city of equal size in our own country? Here were no crowded
workshops, where youth and age toil on, on, during the long day and by
the pale gas light, amidst foul vapors, or in a corrupted atmosphere,
that trade may thrive, and arrogant commerce strut in the Exchange! No
thundering machines to disturb the calm of evening, to drown the murmurs
of the night winds and the gentle melody of the falling dews, with their
hoarse, unearthly clangor!
[Illustration: NICARAGUAN PLOUGH.]
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[Illustration: PROCESSION OF HOLY WEEK.]
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