RETURN TO GRANADA—A BALL IN HONOR OF “EL MINISTRO”—THE
FUNAMBULOS—DEPARTURE FOR RIVAS OR NICARAGUA—HILLS OF SCORIÆ—THE
INSANE GIRL AND THE BROWN SAMARITAN—A WAY-SIDE IDOL—MOUNTAIN LAKES
AND STRANGE BIRDS—A SUDDEN STORM—TAKE REFUGE AMONG THE
“VAQUEROS”—INHOSPITABLE RECEPTION—NIGHT RIDE; DARKNESS AND
STORM—FRIENDLY INDIANS—INDIAN PUEBLO OF NANDYME—THE HACIENDA
OF JESUS MARIA—AN ASTONISHED MAYORDOMO—HOW TO GET A
SUPPER—JICORALES—OCHOMOGO—RIO GIL GONZALES—THE “OBRAJE”—RIVAS AND
ITS DEPENDENCIES—SEÑOR HURTADO—HIS CACAO PLANTATION—THE CITY—EFFECT
OF EARTHQUAKES AND OF SHOT—ATTACK OF SOMOZA—ANOTHER AMERICAN—HIS
ATTEMPT TO CULTIVATE COTTON ON THE ISLAND OF OMETEPEC—MURDER OF HIS
WIFE—FAILURE OF HIS ENTERPRISE—A WORD ABOUT COTTON POLICY—THE
ANTIQUITIES OF OMETEPEC—ABORIGINAL BURIAL PLACES—FUNERAL
VASES—RELICS OF METAL—GOLDEN IDOLS—A COPPER MASK—ANTIQUE POTTERY—A
FROG IN VERD ANTIQUE—SICKNESS OF MY COMPANIONS—THE PUEBLO OF SAN
JORGE—SHORE OF THE LAKE—FEATS OF HORSEMANSHIP—LANCE PRACTICE—VISIT
POTOSI—ANOTHER REMARKABLE RELIC OF ABORIGINAL SUPERSTITION—THE
VALLEY OF BRITA—AN INDIGO ESTATE—CULTIVATION OF INDIGO—VILLAGE OF
BRITA—A DECAYING FAMILY, AND A DECAYED ESTATE—AN ANCIENT
VASE—OBSERVATIONS ON THE PROPOSED CANAL—RETURN ALONE TO
GRANADA—DESPATCHES—A FORCED MARCH TO LEON.
We spent three days on the island, going early to the monuments, and
coming late. The weather was delightful; and each night, when we
returned to the boat, it was with an increased attachment to the place.
We had now a broad, well-marked path from the shore to the ruins, and
the idols were becoming familiar acquaintances. The men had given them
names; one they called, “_Jorobado_,” “the Humpback;” another, “_Ojos
Grandes_,” “Big Eyes.”
At night, the picturesque groups of swarthy, half-naked men preparing
their suppers around fires, beneath the trees, in the twilight gloom, or
gathered together in busy conversation in the midst of the boat, after
we had anchored off for the night,—the changing effects of the sun and
moonlight upon the water, and the striking scenery around us,—the
silence and primeval wilderness,—all contributed, apart from the strange
monuments buried in the forest, to excite thoughts and leave impressions
not likely to be effaced. Our stay passed like a dream, and when we
departed, it was with a feeling akin to that which we experience in
leaving old acquaintances and friends.
We left on the morning of the fourth day. It was Saturday, and I had
promised most faithfully to be in Granada to attend a grand ball which
was to be given in my honor on Sunday evening. The wind, which had been
blowing a constant gale on the lake, during our stay at the island, had
partially subsided, and we succeeded, in consequence, in reaching Los
Corales about the middle of the afternoon. Here we stopped at a large
island, strikingly picturesque where all were picturesque, covered with
lemon, orange, and mamey trees, broad plantain walks, and fields of
maize and melons, where one of the sailors averred there were other
“piedras antiguas.” The owner of the island was away, and the boys and
women who were left knew nothing of the idols, except that they had been
buried,—where, they could not tell. I asked the mistress if I might
carry off some of the fine fruit which loaded down the trees. “_Como
no?_” why not? was the answer—a common reply in Central America, which
signifies the fullest assent. The marineros did not take the trouble of
asking, but helped themselves _ad libitum_, as a matter of course. I
inquired of Juan, why he did not ask permission to take the fruit, if he
desired it; he looked at me in surprise, and made no answer. He would as
soon have thought of asking for permission to breathe the air, or use
the water around the island.
We had another gorgeous sunset amongst the Corales,—those fairy islets,
the memory of which seems to me like that of a beautiful dream, a vision
of the “Isles of the Blest,”—and at nine o’clock ran under the lee of
the old castle, and landed again on the beach of Granada. Here we found
another American, Dr. Clark of Costa Rica, who, wearied of that little
state, had come to Nicaragua in order that he might see more of his
countrymen, and relieve the monotony of Central American life. We
deposited the spoils which we had brought from the island in the house
of Monsieur T., a polite and intelligent but very eccentric Frenchman,
who lived in a little house on the shore of the lake, and then hastened
to our old quarters in the city. The town was in a great uproar; it was
the anniversary festival of some pet saint; all the bells were
clattering, and the plaza was spluttering with bombas, of which every
boy in town had a supply, to be let off on his individual account. They
had also “serpientes,” serpents, which, when fired, started off
erratically, darting from side to side, amongst people’s legs, and in at
the doors and windows, carrying confusion everywhere, particularly
amongst the women, who retreated screaming in every direction, to the
great entertainment of the spectators, and amidst the shouts of the boys
and loafers in the streets.
The ball “came off” in the house of Madame B., a French lady, whose
grand sala was one of the largest in the city, and therefore selected
for the “obsequio.” I went at nine o’clock, and was received with a
flourish of trumpets, by a file of soldiers stationed at the arched
portal. The sala was very tastefully ornamented and lighted. It was
already full; and not to be behind the Leoneses in their demonstrations
of respect for the United States, the assemblage all rose upon my
entrance; and the Prefect, who introduced me, would have had a “viva” or
two (_à la Hone_ at the Park Theatre, on a certain memorable occasion),
had I not besought him “por el amor de Dios” to refrain. The masculine
portion of the assemblage was dressed in what was meant to be full
European costume, but the styles of coats and cravats ran through every
mode of the last ten years. The females made a better appearance, but
none of them displayed more style in respect of dress, than “Tobillos
Gruesos,” and the other female attachés of Señor Serrate’s Company of
Funambulos, who were all present, including the old lady who swallowed
the sword, the girl who had turned somersets, and the “eccentric clown
Simon.” The elite of Granada had doubtless heard how the fashionables of
our cities are accustomed to receive squalling women, pirouetting
Cyprians, and hirsute monsters of the masculine gender, remarkable for
soiled linen, and redolent of gin, which swarm from Europe like locusts
upon our shores, and were also anxious to evince their appreciation of
art, in their attentions to “artistes.” I flatter myself that the
“Jovena Catalina” and “El Ministro” were the bright particular stars of
the evening; I did the gravity, and she the dancing.[29]
-----
Footnote 29:
Since the above was written, I have received the little “Gaceta de
Costa Rica,” announcing the complete breaking up of Señor Serrate’s
Company of Funambulos, in consequence of the death of “Tobillos
Gruesos,” and of the girl who turned somersets. The first died of
tetanus, or lockjaw, from a slight wound received by the unlucky
turning of a knife used in some of her feats of dexterity; and the
_Volteadora_, a martyr to her profession, broke her neck in an attempt
to eclipse the “Eccentric Clown Simon.” I now feel some compunctions
of conscience for my allusions to the Jovena’s ankles—they were really
not so _very_ large—and I mean to make amends, by thinking of her
hereafter, not as “Tobillos Gruesos,” but as “La hermosissima Jovena
Catalina.”
-----
At eleven o’clock supper was announced in the “comedor,” or dining room,
which was spread more after the fashion of home than anything I had seen
since leaving the United States. The champagne, however, seemed most
popular, and the applause with which favorite dances were received,
after our return to the ball room, it is barely possible had some
connection with this circumstance. The enthusiasm was at its height,
when “Tobillos Gruesos” and her sister danced “El Bolero,” and I availed
myself of the opportunity to leave, which I did unobserved. It was three
o’clock when the ball broke up, at which time I was tortured out of my
slumbers by the fearful wailing of half a dozen violins, played by
unsteady hands, and by courtesy called a serenade.
On the afternoon of the day following the ball, in company with Dr.
Clark, I set out for the Department Meridional, the capital of which is
the city of Rivas or Nicaragua. It will be remembered that this was the
seat of Somoza’s insurrection. I was desirous of visiting it, not less
because it was reported to be one of the richest and most fertile
portions of the State, than because here the attention of the world had
been for centuries directed, as the most feasible point where the lake
could be connected with the Pacific, and the grand project of water
communication between the two great oceans realized. Here also was the
seat of a Mexican colony, in ancient times, where the great cazique,
Niquira, had his court; and upon the island of Ometepec, near by, the
lineal descendants of these Indians, and many monuments of their labor
and skill, still existed.
We proposed to go but eight leagues that afternoon, to the estate of a
propietario, to whose kindness we were commended. When we started the
sky was clear and serene, and there was every prospect of a fine
evening. We accordingly jogged along at our ease. Our path lay to the
right of the Volcano of Momobacho, over fields of volcanic breccia, and
amongst the high, conical hills of scoriæ, bare of trees, but covered
with grass, which form so striking features in the scenery back of
Granada. Around these we found large patches of cleared land, now
overgrown with rank weeds, which were anciently indigo and maize
estates, but had been abandoned in consequence of the internal
commotions of the country. Beyond these, at about three leagues from
Granada, we came to a steep hill, where the narrow road, shut in by high
banks, was nothing more than a thick bed of mire, mixed with large,
loose stones, amongst which our horses floundered fearfully. Midway to
the summit, where the hill forms a kind of shelf, is a copious spring,
with a musical Indian name, that has escaped my memory. Here were a
number of the people of the Indian pueblo of Diriomo, returning with the
proceeds of their marketing from Granada. They were listening with great
attention to a white woman, evidently insane, whose slight form,
delicate hands, and pale face, half covered with her long, beautiful
hair, contrasted strongly with their swarthy lineaments and massive
limbs. She addressed us vehemently but unintelligibly, as we approached.
I turned inquiringly to one of the Indians; he touched his finger to his
forehead and said, “_Pobrecita, es tonta!_”—“poor thing, she’s crazy.“ I
asked the man if they would leave her there?” Oh no,” he replied, “we
must take care of her, pobrecita!” And as we slowly toiled up the hill,
I looked back, and saw this rude Indian tenderly leading the poor girl
by the hand, as one would lead a child, lifting her carefully over the
bad places, and carrying her little bundle on the top of his own heavy
load.
Upon one side of the road, just at the summit of the hill, we came upon
a figure, something like those which we had discovered at the island of
Zapatero. It seemed to have been more delicately carved than any of
those, but was now too much injured to enable us to make out its design.
It was standing erect, and the bushes around it were all cut away. I
afterwards learned that it had been brought to its present position and
set up by the Indians of Diriomo, as a boundary mark between their lands
and those belonging to another pueblo.
The ground now became undulating; we came frequently where plantain and
corn fields, and occasionally snug cane huts, could be discovered at the
ends of little vistas, and in shadowy dells. Broad paths also diverged
here and there from the main road, to the numerous Indian towns which
are situated between the volcano and Masaya. The volcano upon this side
is not covered with trees, as towards Granada, and amongst the
struggling verdure are broad, black strips of lava, and red ridges of
scoriæ and breccia. Upon this side also the walls of the crater have
been broken down, and expose a fearfully rugged orifice like an inverted
cone, extending more than half way to the base of the mountain. Within
this it is said there is now a small lake, and another in a smaller
vent, upon one side of the great crater, at the top of the mountain.
Around the latter, it is added, there are certain varieties of strange
birds, which are not to be found elsewhere in the State,—stories which
the naturalist would be more anxious to verify than the antiquarian.
It is a singular fact that, under the lee of this volcano hardly a day
in the year passes, except towards the middle of the dry season, without
rain. This is due to the condensation of the vapors in the cooler
atmosphere at the summit of the volcano, and which the prevailing winds
drive over to the south-west. As a consequence, vegetation is very rank
here, and the forests are dense and tangled. We got the full benefit of
one of these volcanic showers. It came upon us with hardly a moment’s
warning. At one instant we were riding in the clear sunlight, and the
next were enveloped in clouds, and drenched with rain, which soon made
the roads so slippery that we could not proceed faster than a walk. We
rode on for half an hour, when the rain relaxed, and the clouds lifted a
little, but only to reveal the cheerless prospect of a wet and stormy
night. The change of temperature in this short interval was also
considerable, and I felt chilled and uncomfortable. We held a council,
and determined to take up our quarters at the first house or hut we
might reach. We soon discovered the buildings of a cattle estate to the
left of the “camino real,” and rode up to them. There were two mud
houses, and an immense shed, roofed with tiles. Here we found a dozen
vaqueros, and we made the usual inquiry, if we could “make their house a
posada,” and, for the second time in the country, were met with
incivility. The women of one of the houses had the calentura, and there
was no room in the other. There was the shed, they added; we might go
there. I rode up to it and glanced under. The sides were all open, and
there were a hundred or two cows and calves beneath, which had trampled
the entire floor into a sickening mass of black mire. We felt indignant,
and after intimating to the black vagabonds who stood scowling at us,
that they were “hombres sin verguenza,” men without shame, which in
Nicaragua is the most opprobious thing that can be said, we rode off in
great wrath. Ben, who distrusted the rascals, had employed the time in
recapping his pistols by way of showing them that he should be prepared
to meet their attentions, should they take into their heads to favor us
with any in the woods. I believe he privately told the spokesman, who
seemed surliest of all, that he should delight to have a crack at him.
It now came on to rain again harder than before, and night settled
around us, black and cheerless. The ground was so slippery that the
horses, even when walking, could hardly keep their feet. None except the
Dr. had ever been over the road, and in the darkness he was not certain
that we were pursuing the right path. We rode on, nevertheless, gloomily
enough, for an hour or two, when we discovered a light at a little
distance from the road, in what appeared to be a cleared field. We
hastened to it, and found a little collection of Indian huts, in which
the inmates hospitably, invited us to enter. Their quarters were,
however, far from inviting, and as we were now wet through, and it was
only two leagues further to the hacienda where we had proposed to stop,
we concluded it was as well to suffer for a “horse as for a colt,” and,
engaging one of the men to guide us, we pushed on. He took us by the
best beaten road, through the large Indian town of Nandyme, of which we
could see nothing except long rows of lights shining from the open
doorways. We would have stopped with the cura, but he had gone to Leon,
and so we kept to our original purpose. Beyond Nandyme the ground was
clayey, and our horses seemed every moment on the verge of falling. It
was a painful ride, and M., who had a fever coming on, was comically
nervous, and finally dismounted and swore he wouldn’t ride a foot
further. We however got him on his horse once more, and proceeded. We
were an hour and a half in going a single league. Finally we saw the
light of Jesus Maria’s house; our poor horses at once took courage, and
carried us to his door at a round pace. A dozen mozos were lounging in
the corridor, whom we told to take care of our horses, and then inquired
for the proprietor. But he did not reside here now; he had gone off with
his family, and the establishment was in the hands of his mayordomo. We
requested the men to call this person, but they declined, because he was
at his prayers, and not to be disturbed. This was a small consideration
with us; we pushed open the door and entered the sala. At one end of the
room, suspended above an elevated shelf, was a picture of the Virgin,
and on the shelf itself two miserable tallow candles, just enabling the
picture to be seen. In front, in the middle of the room, was a long
bench, and kneeling at this, with their faces directed to the picture,
were the mayordomo and his family. They did not look round when we
entered, but continued their devotions, which consisted in the alternate
recitation of a prayer in rhyme, uttered in a rapid, monotonous voice.
At the end of each prayer all joined in a kind of refrain, or chorus,
and dropped a bead on their rosaries. We took off our hats, and stood
still, waiting for the end. Happily the prayers were short; they had
already been some time at them, and we had not long to wait. We had
anticipated a cordial welcome, and this had kept up our spirits through
our uncomfortable ride. But the mayordomo did not seem to be at all
delighted; on the contrary, he was positively cool, and his sposa, after
eying us askance for a moment, tossed herself out of the room, and
slammed the door after her. This conduct determined our course, and
resolving to carry things with a high hand, we took unceremonious
possession. I ordered Ben to bring in our saddles and place them in the
sala, and to spread out the wet saddle-cloths on the best chairs he
could find, while we tumbled into the hammocks, and bade the mayordomo
authoritatively to bring us some chocolate. His eyes were big with
astonishment, and he mechanically gave the corresponding order. The
chocolate was brought and put on the table. We took our seats, but the
Dr. was belligerent, and bringing his fist down on the “mesa,” turned to
the mayordomo and ejaculated fiercely, “_pan!_ su perro!”—“_bread!_ you
dog!” Bread came in a twinkling. “Bien! _carne!_”—“Good! _meat!_” and
the meat came. I laughed outright; even M., who had been as grave and
silent as an owl, could not resist a smile, and Ben was ecstatic.
After supper was over, we began to look out for beds. The Dr. and M.
concluded to take the two hammocks, Ben the table, and then the Dr.,
turning to the mayordomo, told him he wanted the best bed in the house
for me. The surly host opened a door leading into a little, dirty room,
resembling a dog kennel, in which was a naked, hide bed, and said I
might have that. The Dr., I believe, meditated an assault on the fellow,
but I interfered, and took possession of the den. I was wet and tired,
and cared little for the elegance of my accommodations. I slept soundly,
with the exception of being once roused by the crowing of a game cock,
perched on the head-board of my bed. I took him by the legs, cut the
cord by which he was tied, and threw him out of the window. He squalled
terribly, and I was strongly tempted to give his neck a twist, but
thought better of it.
We were up early in the morning, anxious to get away from this
inhospitable place. We made the mayordomo produce his bill in writing,
with all the items, disputed half of them, quarrelled with him about a
sixpence, and finally went off, assuring him, as we had the vaqueros
before, that he was “a man without shame.”
Beyond this place the country was generally flat, and covered with
calabash trees, overgrown with parasitic plants, which almost concealed
the limbs and verdure of the trees themselves. The places thus covered,
as I have already said, are called “_jicorales_;” and as the trees are
usually scattered pretty widely apart, they afford very good pasturage
for cattle. Between the various “jicorales” there were swells of land
covered with the ordinary forest trees. At the distance of two leagues
from our inhospitable quarters of the night, we came to a singular
square structure open at the sides, and covered with a tile roof. This
we found had been erected by the “arrieros,” or muleteers, as a
convenient lodging place, in their journeys between Nicaragua and
Granada. The neighboring “jicoral,” for most of the year, afforded grass
for their animals; and as for themselves, a cup of tiste sufficed. They
had only to swing their hammocks between the posts of the shed, light
their cigars, and they were “put up,” at a very cheap rate. At ten
o’clock we reached the cattle estate of “Ochomogo,” situated upon a
broad stream of the same name, and the largest which we had seen in
Nicaragua. The place was a wild one, and surrounded by a dense forest of
large trees. It had once been an indigo estate, and the vats in which
the indigo had been separated still remained, on the slope between the
house and the stream. We were very kindly received, and breakfast was
prepared for us with the greatest promptitude. The mistress of the house
was an old lady of great good nature, who, learning we were from El
Norte, asked us many curious questions about our country, and was
particularly anxious to know about a “Capitan Esmith” (Smith), an
American sea-captain whom she had once seen in San Juan, many year ago,
and before its seizure by the English. We told her we did not know the
“Capitan,” which surprised her greatly, because Captain Smith was a man
very enlightened “_muy ilustrado_” and a big fellow besides. Poor old
lady, she little imagined the extent of “El Norte,” and had no
conception of the number of “Capitans Esmith” to be found there. She had
two well-dressed and really handsome daughters, who brought us chocolate
in the daintiest manner, which quite won our hearts by reason of its
contrast to that of the mayordomo near Nandyme. The Dr. having
prescribed for a sick daughter-in-law, the mistress at Ochomogo declined
any payment for our breakfast,—not wholly on account of the prescription
probably, for I have no doubt she meant it when she said, “God forbid
that I should take money of the Americans! are they not _paisanos_,
countrymen?”
We forded the Rio Ochomogo, but had not proceeded far on our way before
it commenced raining again, speedily making the roads so slippery that
we could not advance faster than a walk. This was vexatious, but not to
be avoided; so we protected ourselves as we best could under our
blankets and ponchos, and received the peltings without complaint. Three
hours’ ride in a forest where the trees were larger than any I had yet
seen, brought us to an open space, resembling a back-woods clearing in
our own country. Upon a knoll in the midst stood the house belonging to
the cattle estate of the family of Chomorro of Granada, some of the
younger members of which were there on a visit. They pressed us to stop
until the next day, but the house was small and already crowded, and we
were loth to incommode the inmates. Besides, M.’s fever was increasing,
and I was anxious to get him to some comfortable place, where he could
receive proper attentions, while he was yet able to travel. We had a
long and dreary ride, until the middle of the afternoon, relieved only
by the incident of Ben killing a boa constrictor with his sword, when we
reached another large and fine stream called Gil Gonzalez, after the
discoverer of the country. It is, I believe, the only natural feature of
Nicaragua which commemorates the name of any of its conquerors. Beyond
the Rio Gil Gonzalez, we came to open, cultivated fields, “_huertas_” or
gardens, separated by hedge rows, along which were planted papaya trees,
now loaded with golden fruit. As we advanced, the evidences of industry
and thrift became more and more abundant, and passing for a league
through broad and luxuriant fields, we at last came to the Indian pueblo
of Obraje, the place where Somoza had received his first check by the
troops of the government. It was a large, straggling town, a town of
gardens, and, judging from the accounts of the chroniclers, built very
much after the plan of the aboriginal towns, before the Conquest. The
adobe buildings around the plaza were scarred by shot; but everything
looked so peaceful now that I could hardly believe war and bloodshed had
ever disturbed its quiet.
The Obraje is one of half a dozen towns, situated within a radius of two
leagues around the central city of Rivas or Nicaragua, and which are, to
all intents and purposes, parts of it. Within this area, therefore,
there is a larger population than in any equal extent of the State. At a
distance from the centres of political operations, Rivas and its
dependencies have escaped the more obvious evils of the civil commotions
to which the country has been subject. Its prosperity has nevertheless
been retarded, and its wealth diminished, as the State has declined.
Yet, in point of cultivation and general thrift, it still retains its
superiority. Of this we had abundant evidences in our ride of a league,
from the Obraje to Rivas. The lands were better cleared and worked, and
the houses larger and more comfortable than any we had yet seen. To the
right was a range of hills, not rocky, volcanic elevations, but smooth,
rolling hills, capable of culture to their summits; and between them and
the lake intervened a wide plain, two or three leagues broad, with
little swells of ground, upon which the houses of the people were
usually built. This plain is wonderfully fertile, and suffering less
from drought in the dry season, is probably capable of being made more
productive than that of Leon; but its greater moisture and comparative
lowness render its climate less salubrious. As we rode along, in
admiration of the lavish profusion of nature, we, for the first time
since we left the San Juan river, saw the _toucan_ and one or two other
varieties of new and brilliant birds. They were very tame, and evidently
felt at home amongst the cacao groves.
The rain had ceased, and the contrast which this part of our ride bore
to that of the morning, exhilarated me to the highest degree, and
perhaps caused it to make a deeper impression than it would have done
under other circumstances. It was late in the afternoon, when, crossing
a little New Englandish stream, the Dr. pointed to a large, fine house,
sweetly seated in the edge of a cacao plantation, as that of Señor
Hurtado, one of the Senators of the State, and at whose urgent
invitation I was now in this part of the Republic. The building was
elevated, and a broad corridor ran along its entire front, upon which
Señor Hurtado and his family were seated, in luxurious enjoyment of the
evening breeze. We were recognized, notwithstanding we were disguised by
ponchos and stuccoed with mud, long before we reached the house, and the
master came down the road to welcome us. Need I add that we were
received with unbounded hospitality, and had every want anticipated, and
every wish attended to, during our stay?
Señor Hurtado is one of the largest proprietors in the Department, and,
with his wife and family, might easily be taken for Americans. They were
now living in what may be called the suburbs of the town; their city
residence having been destroyed, together with a large amount of
property, by Somoza, during his temporary ascendancy. Their present
dwelling had also been visited, and the marks of machetas and bullets
were visible on the doors and shutters. It had, however, escaped
pillage, in consequence of the popularity of its owner amongst all
classes of the people of the Department. Connected with the
establishment is a large and exceedingly well-kept cacao plantation.
Through the middle runs the small stream I have mentioned, crossed by
unique little bridges, and here and there forming miniature lakes. The
mazy walks were wide and clean, and so effectually roofed in by the
broad tops of the cacao-madre, that one might almost imagine himself
within the spacious aisles of some grand natural temple.
The morning following, we were waited upon by Don Fruto Chamorro,
Prefect of the Department, and the officers of the garrison. Señor
Hurtado gave me a fine horse, to relieve my wearied one, and I
accompanied them to the town. I was much disappointed in its appearance.
It looked dilapidated, having suffered much from earthquakes, to which
it is proverbially subject. The walls of almost every building were
split or thrown from the perpendicular from this cause, and the façades
of two or three little churches, which we passed, were rent from top to
bottom, and seemed just ready ready to tumble down. As we approached the
grand plaza or centre of the town, we began to see the results of the
recent troubles. The doors and windows of the buildings were full of
bullet-holes, and the walls had been literally scarified by shot. There
must have been a prodigious amount of random firing, first and last. A
number of buildings in the vicinity of the plaza had been burnt, or
partially torn down, and amongst them were the ruins of the residence of
our host, which had been distinguished for its size and superior
elegance. Don Fruto, (who, by the way, had in person captured the robber
chieftain,) explained to me how the latter succeeded in gaining control
of the place, and gave me a little insight into the mode of fighting
practised in Central America. To get possession of the principal plaza,
and to hold it, is esteemed the primary object of every assault. The
garrison always barricades itself there, leaving the rest of the town
unprotected; and in this vicinity the fighting almost invariably takes
place. Accordingly, at the outbreak of the insurrection, the little
garrison, joined by the principal citizens, fortified themselves in the
plaza, and waited for Somoza to come on. Of course he took his time, and
when quite ready, with his usual daring, attempted to carry the plaza by
a _coup de main_. He could not, however, bring his men to charge the
barricades in face of the veterans, whose shot swept the streets like
hail. He nevertheless persisted in the attempt, but with uniform bad
success. Finally he was compelled to make his advances in the usual
manner. He commenced cutting through the houses, upon two sides at the
same time, advancing from one to the other as fast as the walls could be
broken through. The garrison, detecting the movement, advanced in the
same way to meet him, instead of waiting to be overwhelmed by numbers in
the plaza. The “sappers and miners,” if they can be so called,
encountered each other in the interiors of the abandoned houses, and in
their courtyards; and at the outset, in the bloody hand-to-hand contests
which ensued, the superior discipline of the little garrison prevailed.
Somoza, at this critical moment, set fire to the buildings with his own
hands, and leaving a portion of his men in the houses, made a
simultaneous assault upon all the barricades. The garrison, having so
many points to defend, enveloped in flame and smoke, and already much
reduced, was overwhelmed by numbers. In the excitement of the moment,
horrible excesses were committed, and neither age nor sex was spared. To
these excesses, which shocked and alarmed the whole State, the speedy
downfall of Somoza and his faction is, in great part, to be ascribed.
Upon one side of the plaza, which was now fitted up for “_un Juego de
los Toros_,” or a bull-baiting, were the foundation walls and part of
the superstructure of a large stone church. It had been planned on a
grand scale, and was commenced and carried to its present elevation many
years ago; but a severe earthquake occurring, which cracked and
otherwise injured the unfinished walls, its construction was suspended,
and has never been resumed. The interior is, I believe, now used as a
burial place; and a little, low, but compact building at its side is the
parochial church. But even this has suffered from the earthquakes. In
1844 a series of shocks occurred, extending through three days. The
people abandoned their dwellings, and lived in the open air. The shocks
were so severe, that it was almost impossible to stand erect, or even to
stand at all, without clinging to trees or other fixed objects for
support. On the isthmus, below Nicaragua, and in the direction of the
volcano of Orosi, which on this occasion was unusually active, the earth
opened in various places, and many of the more fearful results of these
convulsions were witnessed by the affrighted inhabitants.
From the plaza, the view of the volcanoes of Ometepec and Madeira,
standing in the lake, is exceedingly fine. The regularity of the cone of
the former seems more striking than when it is viewed from the opposite
direction. I have no question that it approaches nearer the perfect cone
in shape, than any other mountain on the continent, not to say in the
world.
Upon returning to Señor Hurtado’s, we found Mr. Woeniger, a gentlemen of
German descent, but a citizen of the United States, who had resided for
twelve or fourteen years in the country. He was intelligent and
communicative, and gave me a great deal of information about this
section of the State, but particularly concerning the island of
Ometepec, on which he had resided for a number of years. He had early
cleared an estate there, and commenced the cultivation of cotton,
relying upon Indian labor. Things went on very well for some time, and
he had imported machinery for cleansing the cotton and manufacturing it,
when the Indians, perhaps excited by envious or evil-minded persons,
grew idle and unmanageable. And one day, during his absence, a drunken
party of them entered his house, violated and murdered his wife,
(daughter of a professor in one of the colleges of Pennsylvania,) and
then set fire to the building. Some of the miscreants were taken,
identified, and shot. Mr. W., notwithstanding this terrible blow,
persevered in his enterprise, but with bad success, and was himself
finally attacked by a number of his own laborers. He killed one or two,
and escaped, abandoning his property on the island, and purchasing a
cacao estate on the main-land, at a little place, in the vicinity of
Rivas, called Potosí, where he now resided. He represented a large part
of the island as being fertile, and well adapted to the cultivation of
cotton, but not more so than almost any other portion of the republic.
With a proper organization, and the ability of compelling the natives to
comply with their contracts, he believed Nicaragua could compete with
any portion of the world in the production of this staple, and supply a
better article at less price in the markets of England, than the United
States itself. This opinion I found was entertained by many other
intelligent foreigners, resident in the country, and fully acquainted
with the subject. It is this fact, amongst other things, and in
connection with the unsuccessful efforts of England to grow cotton in
her colonies, in Jamaica, the Antilles, in Guiana, and India, that gives
especial significance to English pretensions on the Mosquito shore,
_which is probably the finest cotton growing country of the world_. It
is a fact also, which should not be lost sight of by the Southern States
of our Confederacy, when we shall be called upon to take a national
stand, on the questions which have been raised by the unscrupulous
policy of Great Britain in Central and South America.
[Illustration: BURIAL VASES FROM OMETEPEC.]
Mr. Woeniger gave me some information concerning the monuments of
aboriginal art found on the island. In the parts best known there had
formerly been many idols resembling those found at Zapatero, but they
had either been broken up or buried. A group was said to exist at a
secluded place, near the foot of the volcano of Madeira, but he had
never seen them. The ancient cemeteries are the most remarkable remains
of the aborigines. They generally occur upon some dry, elevated place,
and are distinguished by an enclosure of flat, rough stones, set in the
ground, and projecting a few inches above the surface. Within the areas
thus indicated are found, upon examination, many vases containing the
bones and ashes of the dead, and a great variety of ornaments of stone
and metal. Little gold idols, well worked, articles of copper, and terra
cotta figures, are also sometimes found. The vases containing the human
bones and ashes are always of one shape, as represented in the foregoing
cuts. It will be seen at once, that the model is that of the human
skull. In some of those in which the unburned bones were placed, after
the removal of the flesh, (a common practice among the American
Indians,) the skull closed the orifice or mouth. Other articles of
pottery, some in the form of animals and of fruits and shells, are also
found buried both in the cemeteries and elsewhere. These are sometimes
elaborately painted, with brilliant and enduring colors. Various _terra
cottas_, in the form of men and animals, have also been found, of which
the one represented in the accompanying engraving may be taken as a
type. Amongst the articles of metal obtained on the island, and
presented to me by Mr. Woeniger, is a copper head or mask of a tiger,
which is not unartistic, and displays no insignificant degree of spirit.
[Illustration: TERRA COTTA FROM OMETEPEC—¼ SIZE.]
The golden idols, are no doubt identical with those which the chronicler
describes as “about a span long,” and of which the great Cazique Niquira
gave Gil Gonzales, upon his solicitation, not less than “one thousand.”
One had been found just previous to our arrival, which weighed
twenty-four ounces, and which had been purchased by a merchant for an
equal number of doubloons, and sent as a remittance to Jamaica. I left a
standing order with Señor Hurtado to secure the next one which should be
found for me, at any cost. But up to this time, I cannot learn that any
additional ones have been discovered. Amongst the other curious relics
which I obtained there, was a little figure of a frog, carved in a grey
stone, resembling _verd antique_. It is presented of full size in the
subjoined engraving. The holes near the fore feet were doubtless
designed to receive the string, by which it was probably suspended as an
amulet from the neck of its ancient owner. This was found in the
Department of Guanacaste, near the Gulf of Nicoya.
[Illustration: COPPER MASK FROM OMETEPEC.]
[Illustration: FROG IN VERD ANTIQUE.]
I had intended to visit Ometepec; and as, upon our arrival, there seemed
to be a prospect that M., after a little repose, would be able to go
with us, Señor Hurtado had ordered one of his boats, with a full
complement of men, to be in readiness, on the second morning, to take us
over. The Prefect had also sent orders to the subordinate officers on
the island to render us every service in their power. But in the
meantime M. had become much worse, and during the night was almost
delirious with fever, requiring the constant attendance of the doctor. I
was consequently obliged to relinquish my visit; but, nevertheless, rode
down to the lake with the Prefect and a party of the citizens. The
distance is upwards of a league to San Jorge, which stands a little back
from the lake, upon a dry, sandy swell of ground. It is finely situated,
and the country intervening between the two towns is of surpassing
beauty and fertility, and covered with cacao plantations, and “huertas,”
of the most luxuriant productiveness. It was at San Jorge that the final
conflict with Somoza took place, and the buildings around the plaza bore
the usual marks of shot; and it was here that the French officer who had
been so polite to us at San Carlos, but who had foolishly joined Somoza
for the sake of “beauty and booty,” was killed. One of the officers
pointed out a little depression in the surface of the ground; it was his
grave; they had buried him where he fell.
A few minutes’ ride from San Jorge, along one of the numerous paths worn
by the aguadoras, brought us to the lake. The shore is high and bluff,
and there is only a narrow strip of sandy beach between it and the
waters. Here were numerous bongos and canoes drawn up on the sand,
parties of marineros cooking their breakfasts, men watering their horses
in the surf, half naked women, surrounded by troops of children, busily
engaged in washing, water-carriers filling and balancing their jars—all
the movement and picturesque life which had so deeply impressed me upon
my first landing on the beach of Granada. The wind blew strongly, and
the waves swept in with a force which surprised me. The rollers outside
were like those of the ocean, and a canoe just then coming in was
swamped the moment it reached them, and was only prevented from being
overset and stove on the shore, by the crew, who had previously thrown
themselves overboard, and steadied it by clinging to its sides. It would
have been impossible for us to have got outside, even if we had been in
readiness to go to the island. I found that our patron and crew were to
have been the same who had taken us to Pensacola, and had vexed us so
prodigiously by their laziness. They saluted me with the greatest
familiarity, and seemed to be much disappointed when Señor Hurtado told
them they would not be wanted. They had evidently counted on a large
supply of aguardiente, and on being gloriously drunk for at least a
week. I gave them a few reals wherewith to drink my health, for which
they invoked the blessing of all the saints on my head.
The return ride was a rapid one, and the young officers who accompanied
us amused themselves greatly by racing their horses. Their mode of doing
this is very different from ours, and a trifle more dangerous. The
rivals place themselves side by side, and join hands, starting off at a
given signal. The one whose greater speed enables him to drag the other
from his horse, wins; and if the race is in earnest, the least the
beaten party can expect to get off with is a tumble in the sand, with a
chance of a broken head. There are many fine horsemen in Central
America; indeed, a good horse, and the ability to ride him well, are the
two things which the “fast fellows” of that country most do covet, and
in the possession and display of which they take most pride. For my sole
gratification, I presume, one of the officers volunteered some
exhibitions of his skill. He requested me to drop my whip a little in
advance; I did so, and as he dashed past, at the full speed of his
horse, he bent down gracefully and picked it up,—a feat which those who
do not think difficult had better attempt. He also borrowed a lance from
an Indian whom we met, and showed me the manner in which it is handled
by those who fully understood its use. I was amazed at his dexterity,
and not less so at the skill with which one of his companions, using
only his sword, warded off the blows aimed at him with the blunt end. It
occurred to me that any “gringo” like myself might be a dozen times run
through by a lancer of this order, before fairly aware of the
circumstance; and I made a mental resolve, in case of encountering
“ladrones” with lances, to appeal to my “Colt,” before admitting any too
familiar approaches.
The morning of the third day found M. no better, and requiring, as
before, the constant care of the doctor. Señor Hurtado had, however,
planned an excursion across the country to the Pacific. We were to take
coffee at Potosi with Mr. Woeniger, breakfast at an estate of Señor
Hurtado’s, in the little valley of Brito, ride to the sea, and be back
to dinner. We were off at daylight, and rode a league through an
unbroken garden, to Potosi, a straggling town like the Obraje, and, like
that, a curious compound of city and country, plazas and plantations.
Our friend was expecting us, and after despatching our coffee, none the
less acceptable because of our brisk ride, he showed us through his
cacao estate. It was small but well kept, and constantly increasing in
value; for in addition to replacing the decaying trees, he every year
put in an additional four or five hundred, each one of which, when
matured, according to the rate of calculation here, is valued at a
dollar. It requires from five to seven years to make a plantation; or
rather, that time is requisite before the trees commence “paying.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: ABORIGINAL RELICS.]
[Illustration: NEW VOLCANO ON THE PLAIN OF LEON.—See page 530.]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Amongst the various aboriginal relics which Mr. Woeniger had collected,
on the island of Ometepec, was one of considerable interest, which is
represented in No. 2 of the accompanying Cut. It is of stone, about
fourteen inches in length, and eight high, and seems intended to be a
representation of some animal, _couchant_. It was carefully preserved by
the Indians at the summit of a high, secluded point of rocks, where they
secretly resorted to pour out libations before it, and to perform rites,
the nature of which none would ever reveal. For more than fifty years
the padres sought to discover this idol, but without success. Recently,
however, its place had been ascertained; it was seized and would have
been thrown into the lake, had not Mr. Woeniger promised, if placed in
his hands, to remove it from the island for ever. It is now in the
Museum of the Smithsonian Institution at Washington.
At a little distance beyond Potosi, the ridge of land which intervenes
between the lake and the Pacific, commences to rise. It can hardly be
called a ridge; it is a broad plateau, and what upon either side appear
to be hills, are nothing more than the _edges_ of the table-land. The
top of this plateau is undulating and diversified, and resembles some of
the finer parts of New York and New England. We had a number of
magnificent views of the lake and the intervening plain, as we rose
above the general level; the volcanoes of Ometepec and Madeira, now as
always, constituting the most striking features in the landscape. Our
road was gravelly and dry, and its windings pleasantly relieved by open
fields and shadowy woodlands. I was a little surprised to find the
valley of Brito, upon the summit of the plateau of which I have spoken,
along which it runs longitudinally, and finally, by a succession of
“saltos,” falls into the Pacific, at the little harbor of Nacascolo or
Brito, not far to the northward of that of San Juan del Sur, the point
spoken of as the western terminus of the proposed line of transit. It is
a sweet little valley, and at one of its sweetest parts is the indigo
estate of Señor Hurtado. The building was spacious, built of adobes,
with a tiled roof, and surrounded by a high fence of posts, placed in
the ground upright, like stockades. Within this the ground was beaten
smooth, and, spread upon sheets, were large quantities of indigo,
receiving a final drying in the sun, preparatory to being packed for
market. Our host, with hospitable prevision, had, the day before, sent
word of our coming, and we found a capital breakfast, and a couple of
well-cooled bottles of claret, awaiting our attentions. This disposed
of, we went to visit the indigo “maquina.” The first point of interest
was the dam across the stream from which the water is obtained for
driving the machinery and supplying the works. It was well constructed,
and a very creditable piece of workmanship for any country. The next
thing in importance was the “maquina” itself. It consisted of two
immense vats of masonry, situated one above the other. In the lower one
a large wheel was so placed as to be turned by water. Near these was a
drying house, and other requisite apparatus, the purposes of which will
be explained in the following account of the process of manufacturing
indigo.
I have elsewhere said that the indigo of Central America, amongst which
that of Nicaragua is regarded as of a very superior quality, is obtained
from an indigenous triennial plant, (_Indigofera disperma_, _Linn._),
which attains its highest perfection in the richest soils. It will grow,
however, upon almost any soil, and is very little affected by drought,
or by superabundant rains. In planting it, the ground is perfectly
cleared, usually burnt over, and divided with an implement resembling a
hoe into little trenches, two or three inches in depth, and twelve or
fourteen apart, at the bottom of which the seeds are strewn by hand, and
lightly covered with earth. A bushel of seed answers for four or five
acres of land. In Nicaragua it is usually planted towards the close of
the dry season in April or May, and attains its perfection, for the
purpose of manufacture, in from two and a half to three months. During
this time it requires to be carefully weeded, to prevent any mixture of
herbs, which would injure the quality of the indigo. When green, the
plant closely resembles what in the United States is familiarly known as
“sweet clover,” or the young and tender sprouts of the locust tree. When
it becomes covered with a kind of greenish farina, it is in a fit state
to be cut. This is done with knives, at a little distance above the
root, so as to leave some of the branches, called in the West Indies
“ratoons,” for a second growth, which is also in readiness to be cut, in
from six to eight weeks after. The crop of the first year is usually
small, that of the second is esteemed the best, although that of the
third is hardly inferior. It is said that some fields have been gathered
for ten consecutive years without being resown, the fallen seed
obviating the necessity of new plantings.
After the plant is cut, it is bound in little bundles, carried to the
vat, and placed in layers in the upper or larger one, called the
“steeper,” (_mojadora_). This vat holds from one thousand to ten
thousand gallons, according to the requirements of the estate. Boards
loaded with weights are then placed upon the plants, and enough water
let on to cover the whole, which is now left to steep or ferment. The
rapidity of this process depends much upon the state of the weather and
the condition of the plant. Sometimes it is accomplished in six or eight
hours, but generally from fifteen to twenty. The proper length of time
is determined by the color of the saturated water; but the great secret
is to check the fermentation at the proper point, for upon this, in a
great degree, depends the quality of the product. Without disturbing the
plant, the water is now drawn off, by cocks, into the lower vat or
“beater,” (_golpeadoro_,) where it is strongly and incessantly beaten,
in the smaller estates with paddles by hand, in the larger by wheels
turned by horse or water-power. This is continued until it changes from
the green color, which it at first displays, to a blue, and until the
coloring matter, or _floculæ_, shows a disposition to curdle or subside.
This is sometimes hastened by the infusion of certain herbs. It is then
allowed to settle, and the water is carefully drawn off. The pulp
granulates, at which time it resembles a fine, soft clay; after which it
is put into bags to drain, and then spread on cloths, in the sun, to
dry. When properly dried, it is carefully selected according to its
quality, and packed in hide cases, 150 lbs. each, called _ceroons_. The
quality has not less than nine gradations, the best being of the highest
figure. From 6 to 9 are called _flores_, and are the best; from 3 to 6,
_cortes_; from 1 to 3, inclusive, _cobres_. The two poorer qualities do
not pay expenses. A _mansana_ of one hundred yards square, produces, on
an average, about one ceroon at each cutting. After the plant has passed
through the vat, it is required by law that it shall be dried and burnt;
because, in decomposing, it generates, by the million, an annoying
insect called the “indigo fly.”
Thus the indigo plant requires constant attention during its growth, and
must be cut at a particular period, or it is valueless. The subsequent
processes are delicate, and require the utmost care. It will readily be
understood, therefore, that the production of this staple would suffer
most from revolutions and disturbances of the country, when it is
impossible to obtain labor, or where the laborers are liable at any
moment to be impressed for the army. As a consequence, it has greatly
declined; many fine estates have been entirely abandoned, and the export
of the article reduced to less than a fifth of what it once was. Its
production is now chiefly confined to San Salvador, where industry is
better organized than in any of the other States.
From Señor Hurtado’s hacienda, we rode along the shaded banks of the
stream, to the little Indian town of Brita. It has nothing to
distinguish it except its picturesque situation, and its unique little
church, painted after the Indian fashion, with all the colors of the
rainbow,—here a row of urns, there a line of flowers, curiously
festooned, and the whole altogether more resembling the flaming front of
a wooden clock from Yankeeland, than anything else under heaven. Near
this place was a decayed cacao estate, belonging to a family of some
notability in the country, but now only represented in the female line.
The avenue leading to the mansion had once been grand; it was still
lined with magnificent trees. The house was now dilapidated, and honey
bees had dug out immense establishments in the adobe walls, around which
they swarmed in a cloud. A dozen stout, half-naked fellows were lounging
on the corridor, surrounded by an equal number of mangy dogs, which
showed their teeth and snarled around our legs. The wife of the
mayor-domo, himself a swarthy mestizo, was a fair, delicate girl, who
looked wonderfully out of place amongst her rough companions. I obtained
from her—for she was as kind and gentle as the masculines were morose
and ugly—the stone vase, No. 1, of the Cut facing page 514. It had been
brought to light but a short time before, in digging the posts for a
cattle shed. It is about eighteen inches in height, and of proportionate
diameter, cut from a single block of granite rock. There were handles,
in the shape of a human head, upon each side, and the intermediate
space, on a raised band around the middle, was tastefully ornamented, as
shown in the engraving.
Reserving for another place the observations which I this day made, in
respect to the proposed route for a ship-canal to connect the lake and
ocean at this point, I have only to add that the day was delightfully
spent, and that our return to Rivas, in the cool of the evening, was one
of the pleasantest rides that I enjoyed in the country. I found that
during my absence, the Prefect had sent me a very singular relic of
antiquity, which had been exhumed some time previously, near the city,
which is represented by Fig. 3, in the same Plate with the vase just
described. It is of the same material with the vase, and is ornamented
in similar style, but more elaborately. It will be observed that one of
the projecting arms or ornaments on the side represented in the sketch,
is broken off; it probably was analogous to that shown in the front. I
cannot imagine what was the purpose of this singular piece of sculpture,
unless designed as a pedestal for an idol, or a seat for the dignitaries
of aboriginal times, for both of which purposes it is very well adapted.
It is about twenty inches in height; and, in company with the vase, is
deposited in the Museum of the Smithsonian Institution at Washington.
M., I found, was getting better of his fever; the dangerous stage was
passed, but he would be unable to endure any violent exercise for a
week. I could not, therefore, depend upon him to accomplish the primary
objects I had in view in visiting this section of the State, and as I
expected important despatches from Government at Granada, I resolved,
notwithstanding the solicitations of my host, to leave M. in care of the
doctor, and return. The next morning was fixed for my departure. At
sunrise, Señor Hurtado had everything prepared, including a man to act
as guide, and persisted in accompanying me to the Obraje, where, after
extending an earnest invitation to visit him again, he left me and
returned.
We had been nearly the whole of one day in riding the ten leagues from
the Ochomogo to Rivas, but I now went over the same ground before
breakfasting. The hostess at Ochomogo was still puzzling her head how it
could be possible that I did not know “Capitan Esmith, un hombre muy
ilustrado, _y gordo_!” “Captain Smith, a very enlightened man, _and
fat_!”
Passing Ochomogo, my guide took me by a new, and as he said, shorter
path, from that by which we came; so I missed the satisfaction of
calling the inhospitable mayordomo a shameless fellow, and lost the
opportunity of seeing Nandyme by daylight. Although the distance is
called sixty miles, the sun was yet high in the west when I arrived
within sight of Granada. A light shower was just sweeping over it,
spanned by a beautiful rainbow, like the portal of Paradise. As I came
nearer, I heard the eternal banging of bombas, and rode into the city
amidst serpientes, waving flags, and the other eye and ear-wearying
nonsense of a fiesta. I would have gone through the principal street,
but the people all at once fell on their knees, and I was saluted by a
hundred voices, “Quita su sombrero!”—“Take off your hat!” I looked down
the street, and saw a procession approaching at the other end, preceded
by a score of squeaking violins and a squad of soldiers, and followed by
a regiment of saints’ effigies, borne on men’s shoulders. My guide
dismounted and dropped on his marrow bones in the mud, while Ben and
myself turned down a side street, leaving the guide to follow when he
got ready. I was heartily tired of fiestas and saints, and began to
think if the people prayed less and worked more, they would be doing
both God and man better service.
My despatches had arrived that afternoon, with three months’ later
dates, for we had heard nothing from home during that period, except
through British agents, who took a malicious satisfaction in showing
us how much more efficient, active, and intelligent is the British
Government, in the conduct of its foreign relations, than our own. It
was seldom that despatches ever reached the American officers in this
country, and then only long after date. I got bushels of letters,
papers, and documents, all directed to my predecessor, at eight,
twelve, and even eighteen months after they were despatched from
Washington. The English agents were never thirty days behindhand. The
first intimation of the declaration of war with Mexico, received by
our naval commander in the Pacific, was through the British Admiral,
and after that officer had taken such measures as he thought proper
under the circumstances.[30] It was only the superior swiftness of
American ships which enabled us to anticipate the seizure of
California by Great Britain, under pretext of securing its Mexican
debts. On such a small matter as _that_, turned the great question of
American predominance in the Pacific, and American maritime and
commercial ascendancy throughout the world. In appointing even so
insignificant an officer as a despatch agent, our government should
not forget this fact, nor neglect to ask itself the question, “What if
England had got California?”
-----
Footnote 30:
“During the diplomatic employments with which I have been so long
honored by the favor of my country, I have been constantly mortified
by the dependence in which our foreign agents are left upon a
foreign and rival government, for the transmission of their
correspondence.”—HON. HENRY WHEATON, _to the Department of State,
Dec. 1845_.
-----
The matters contained in my letters required my immediate presence in
Leon. Accordingly I left the next morning, and accomplished the entire
distance, one hundred and twenty miles, in a day and a half,—or,
counting from Nicaragua, one hundred and eighty miles in two days and a
half, being at the rate of seventy-two miles a day. This was done with
the same horse, one which had cost me but thirty dollars, and which came
into Leon at the same pace with which he had left Nicaragua, and
apparently as unwearied as then. And yet I suffered nothing from
fatigue, and, notwithstanding all that I had heard said about the
debilitating effects of the climate, felt as vigorous as I had ever
done, under the most favorable circumstances, at home.
I found two soldiers pacing the corridor of my house, which greatly
puzzled me. My old friend Padre Cartine, I afterwards found, had dreamed
a dream, to the purport that robbers were seeking to enter it, and had
given the General no peace until he had stationed a guard there to keep
“watch and ward” day and night. Poor old Padre! It is precious little
the “ladrones” would have got, had the dream proved true.
And thus terminated my second antiquarian expedition. I have only given
an outline of the incidents which befel me, and shall reserve all
speculation upon my discoveries for another place.