PROPOSED VISIT TO SAN SALVADOR AND HONDURAS—DEPARTURE FROM
LEON—CHINANDEGA—LADRONES—THE GOITRE—GIGANTIC FOREST TREES—PORT OF
TEMPISQUE—THE ESTERO REAL AND ITS SCENERY—A NOVEL CUSTOM HOUSE AND
ITS COMMANDANTE—NIGHT ON THE ESTERO—BAY OF FONSECA—VOLCANO OF
COSEGUINA—THE ISLAND OF TIGRE—PORT OF AMAPALA—VIEW FROM THE
ISLAND—ENTRANCE TO THE BAY—SACATE GRANDE—EXCITING NEWS FROM
HONDURAS—ENGLISH FORTIFICATIONS—EXTENT, RESOURCES, AND IMPORTANCE OF
THE BAY—DEPARTURE FOR THE SEAT OF WAR.
I had now been nearly a year in Nicaragua, and although repeatedly urged
to do so, had not yet found an opportunity of visiting the neighboring
States. At this time, however, the condition of public affairs was such
as to permit of a brief absence from the capital, and I lost no time in
preparing for a journey to Honduras and San Salvador,—States identified
with Nicaragua in their general policy, and struggling, in concert with
her, to revive the national spirit, and build up again the prostrate
fabric of the Republic. This effort, as I have already said, was opposed
by the old serviles in the city of Guatemala, and their coadjutors in
the other States, who had succeeded in exciting disturbances in
Honduras, which threatened the complete overthrow of its Government.
Gen. Guardiola, an able but impetuous officer, the head of the army of
that State, had been so far deceived and misled by them, as to put
himself in arms against the constituted authorities. He had, in fact,
obtained possession of the capital, and at the head of a large force was
now marching against Señor Lindo, the President, who had taken up his
position and fortified himself at the town of Nacaome, near the Bay of
Fonseca. Here he had solicited the intervention of Nicaragua and San
Salvador, which States were bound by treaty to sustain Honduras and each
other whenever they should be threatened with violence from within or
from abroad. San Salvador had accordingly sent a considerable force to
the support of Lindo, under the command of Gen. Cabañas, a distinguished
officer of the old Republic, and Nicaragua was making preparations to
afford further aid in case of necessity.
Under these circumstances, and with the hope of being able to avert a
collision, which could only result in evil, I started on my journey. It
was at the beginning of the “Semana Santa,” or Holy Week, and by the
dim, gray light of the morning, as we rode through the silent city, we
could make out the arches and evergreen arbors with which the streets
were spanned and decorated, preparatory to this principal festival of
the calendar. Early morning on the plain of Leon, when the purple
volcanoes are relieved against the sun’s coronal of gold, and their
ragged summits seem crusted over with precious stones, while the broad
plain rests in deep shadow, or catches here and there a faint reflection
from the clouds,—early morning on the plain of Leon, always beautiful,
was never more gorgeous than now. Broad daylight overtook us at the
Quebrada of Quesalguaque; and although the dust was deep, for it was now
past the middle of the dry season, yet we rode into Chinandega,
twenty-five miles, in time for breakfast.
Here I found my old friend Dr. Brown, who had been the first to welcome
me at San Juan, and who had just arrived from Panama in the “Gold
Hunter,” the first American steamer which had ever entered the ancient
harbor of Realejo. Here we also found a considerable party of Americans
from California, homeward bound, “with pockets full of rocks,” who,
taken with the luxuriant climate and country, and oriental habits of the
people, had rented a house, purchased horses, and organized an
establishment, half harem and half caravansary, where feasting and
jollity, Venus and Bacchus, and Mercury and Momus, and half of the rare
old rollicking gods, banished from refined circles, not only found
sanctuary, but held undisputed sway. They were popular amongst the
natives, who thought them “hombres muy vivos,” and altogether prime
fellows, for they never haggled about prices, but submitted to extortion
with a grace worthy of Caballeros with a mint at their command.
The streets near the plaza were blockaded with carts and piles of
stones, for the troop of captured ladrones had been put to the useful
employment of paving the principal thoroughfares. They were all chained,
but in a manner not interfering with their ability to labor, although
effectually precluding escape. Yet they were guarded by soldiers, man
for man, who lounged lazily in the doorways of the houses on the shaded
side of the streets. I observed that most of the criminals were Sambos,
mixed Negro and Indian, who seem to combine the vices of both races,
with few if any of their good qualities. Yet physically they were both
larger and better proportioned than the parent stocks.[37] Their exists
between them and the Ladinos, or mixed whites and Indians, a deeply
seated hostility, greater than between any of the other castes of the
country.
-----
Footnote 37:
Dr. Von Tschudi makes a similar observation concerning this caste in
Peru. He says: “they are the most miserable class of half-castes; with
them every vice seems to have attained its utmost development; and it
may confidently be said that not one in a thousand of them is a useful
member of society, or a good subject of the State. Four-fifths of the
criminals in the city jail of Lima are Sambos. Their figures are
athletic, and their color black, sometimes tinged with olive-brown.
Their noses are not as flat as those of the negroes, but their lips
are quite as prominent.”—_Travels in Peru_, p. 84.
-----
In Chinandega, as in fact every other town of the State, I observed
numerous instances of the _goitre_. It is chiefly, if not wholly,
confined to the women. This circumstance particularly attracted my
attention, as it is popularly supposed that this is a disease peculiar
to elevated or mountainous regions. The inhabited portions of Nicaragua,
excepting the sparsely populated districts of Segovia and Chontales, are
elevated not exceeding from one to five hundred feet above the sea.
Chinandega is only seventy feet, and Leon, Granada, and Rivas, not more
than a hundred and fifty feet, above tide water; yet in all these towns
the goitre is common. I also saw several cases of _elephantiasis_, but
they are rare.
We spent our first night at our old quarters in El Viejo, and started
next morning before daylight for what is called “El Puerto de
Tempisque,” on the Estero Real, where we had engaged a bongo to take us
to the Island of Tigre, in the Bay of Fonseca. The distance to Tempisque
is about seven leagues; the first three leading through an open, level,
and very well cultivated country. That passed, we came to a gigantic
forest, including many cedro, cebia,[38] and mahogany trees, amongst
which the road wound with labyrinthine intricacy. This forest is
partially under the lee of the volcano of Viejo, where showers fall for
nearly the whole of the year, and hence the cause of its luxuriance.
Here we overtook our patron and his men, marching Indian file, each with
a little bag of netting, containing some cheese, plantains, and
tortillas for the voyage, thrown over one shoulder, a blanket over the
other, and carrying the inseparable machete resting in the hollow of the
left arm.
-----
Footnote 38:
The cebia, or wild cotton tree, is one of the most imposing of the
forest’s monarchs. It grows rapidly, and to a great size. I have seen
a single trunk seventy feet long, forty-four feet in circumference at
one end, and thirty-seven at the other. The wood is lighter and less
durable than pine, but it is worked easily. This tree is generally
used for bongos or piraguas. It produces large pods, filled with a
downy substance like floss silk, which is used in a variety of ways,
for stuffing cushions, pillows, etc. It may, no doubt, be put to other
economical purposes.
-----
Within a mile or two of Tempisque, the ground began to rise, and we
found ourselves on a high, broad ridge of lava, which had ages ago
descended from the great volcano above mentioned. It was partially
covered with a dry and arid soil, supporting a few coyol palms, some
groups of the Agave Americana, and a great variety of cacti, which
contrive to flourish where no other plants can grow. The coyol palm is
the raggedest of the whole family of palms, yet it is one of the most
useful. Its flower is the largest and most magnificent to be found
beneath the tropics; it forms a cluster a yard in length and of equal
circumference, of the color of frosted gold, flanked and relieved by a
deep brown shell or husk, within which it is concealed until it is
matured, when it bursts from its prison and shames the day with its
glories. The fruit is small, not larger than a walnut, but it is
produced in clusters of many hundreds each. The kernels resemble refined
wax, and burn almost as readily; when pressed, they yield a fine, clear
oil, equal to the best sperm, and well adapted for domestic uses. The
shell of the nut is hard, black, and susceptible of the highest polish,
and is laboriously carved by the natives into rings and other articles
of ornament, which, when set in gold, are very unique and beautiful, and
highly valued by strangers. But the uses of this palm do not end here.
The heart of the tree is soft, and may be cooked and eaten. And if a
hollow or cavity is cut in the trunk, near its top, it soon fills with
juice, of a slightly pungent flavor, called _chiche_ by the Indians,
which is a delicious and healthful, and when allowed to ferment, an
intoxicating beverage.
From the summit of the lava ridge, we obtained a view of the level
alluvions bordering the Bay of Fonseca. They are covered with an
unbroken forest, and the weary eye traverses a motionless ocean of
verdure, tree-tops on tree-tops, in apparently unending succession.
We paused for a moment to contemplate the scene; but its vastness and
silence were painful, and I felt relieved, when, after descending
rapidly for ten minutes, we found ourselves amidst some evidences of
life, at the “Puerto de Tempisque.” These evidences consisted of a
single shed, open upon three sides, and inhabited by an exceedingly
ill-looking mestizo, an old crone, and an Indian girl, naked to the
waist, whose occupation extended to bringing water, and grinding maize
for tortillas. There was a fine spring at the base of the hill near by,
and around it were some groups of sailors, engaged in cooking their
breakfast. The ground back of the hut was elevated and dry, but
immediately in front commenced the mangrove swamps. Here too, scooped in
the mud, was a small shallow basin, and extending from it into the
depths of the swamp, a narrow canal, four or five feet deep, and six or
eight in breadth, communicating with the Estero Real. The tide was out,
and the slimy bottom of both basin and canal, in which some ugly bongos
were lying, was exposed and festering in the sun. Altogether it was a
forbidding place, suggestive of agues and musquitos. Ben prepared
breakfast, and meantime I amused myself with a tame _coati_ or tropical
raccoon, which I found beneath the shed, and which was as frolicksome
and malicious as a kitten. Its principal delight seemed to be to bite
the toes of the Indian girl, who evidently owed it no good will, and was
only prevented from doing it a damage, by the old crone, whose pet it
was.
In the course of a couple of hours the tide began to rise; our bongo was
loaded, and by eleven o’clock, we were pushing slowly through the narrow
canal. After penetrating about three hundred yards, we entered an arm of
the Estero. It was wider than the canal, and permitted the use of oars.
All around us, so dense that not a ray of the sun could penetrate, was a
forest of mangroves. These trees cover the low alluvions of the coast,
which are overflowed by the tide, to the entire exclusion of all other
vegetation. Their trunks commence at the height of eight or ten feet
from the ground, and are supported by naked roots shooting downward and
outward, like the legs of a tripod, hundreds in number, and those of one
tree interlocking with those of another, so as to constitute an
impenetrable thicket. Bare, slimy earth, a gray wilderness of roots
surmounted by tall spire-like trunks, enveloped in a dense robe of
opaque, green leaves, with no signs of life except croaking water-fowls
and muddy crabs clinging to the roots of the trees, an atmosphere
saturated with damps, and loaded with an odor of seething mire—these are
the predominating features of a mangrove swamp! I never before
comprehended fully the aspects of nature, described to us by geologists,
at the period of the coal formations,—“when rivers swollen with floods,
and surcharged with detritus, heaved mournfully through the silence of
primeval forests; when endless fens existed, where the children of
nature stood in ranks so close and impenetrable, that no bird could
pierce the net-work of their branches, nor reptile move through the
stockade of their trunks; when neither bird nor quadruped had yet
started into being.” Half an hour carried us through these Stygian
solitudes; and I breathed freer, when our boat pushed into the broad and
magnificent Estero Real. This is an arm of the sea, projecting from the
lower extremity of the Bay of Fonseca, for a distance of sixty miles,
behind the volcanic range of the Marabios, in the direction of Lake
Managua. Where we entered, about thirty miles above its mouth, it was
three hundred yards wide, and forty-eight feet, or eight fathoms, deep.
The tide, which here rises about ten feet, had just turned, and we
floated down rapidly, with the current. The banks were now full; the
water washed the feet of the mangroves, and they appeared as if rising
from the sea. Being all of about equal height, and their foliage compact
and heavy, they shut in the Estero as with walls of emerald. The great
volcano of El Viejo, its dark brown summit traced boldly against the
sky, came into view, sole monarch of the scene, now on one side, now on
the other, as we followed the windings of the stream. Though the
elements of the scenery were not many, yet the atmospheric effects, the
long, dreamy vistas, and the dark, leafy arches, bending over some
narrow arm of the Estero, left an impression upon my memory, in many
respects as pleasing, and in all as ineffaceable, as the richer and more
varied scenery around the great lakes of the interior.
[Illustration: The Crimson Crane]
As we proceeded, and the tide fell, the steep, slimy banks, before
concealed by the water, began to come in view. Seen from the middle of
the Estero, they appeared of a rich umber color, contrasting strongly
with the light blue of the water and the dense green of the trees. Life
now began to animate the hitherto silent banks; for thouCsands of
water-fowls, before concealed in the leafy coverts, emerged to prey upon
laggard snails, and to snap up presumptuous crabs, induced by the
sunshine and the slime to linger on the shore, when they should have
been “full fathoms five” beneath the water. Amongst these birds I then
noticed some white and rose-colored herons, of exceeding beauty. Many of
the latter are to be seen on the shores of Lake Nicaragua, in the
vicinity of the Estero of Panaloya.
At five o’clock, during the last hour of the ebb, we observed that the
left bank of the Estero was higher than the other, and that the stream
had now widened to upwards of half a mile, and had deepened to ten
fathoms. It is here called “Playa Grande,” and here the Government
maintains a kind of Custom House. When we came in sight of the
establishment, our sailors took to their oars, and pulled towards the
shore. If Tempisque was solitary, this was utterly desolate. The trees
had been cleared away, for a few hundred feet, and in the midst of the
open space stood two thatched sheds, elevated on posts, so that the
floors were eight or ten feet above the mud, which was now partially
dried, cracked, and covered with leprous spots of salt, left from the
water of the overflows. To reach these structures, a tree had been cut
so as to fall down the bank; this was notched on the upper surface, and
stakes had been driven at the sides, to prevent whoever should attempt
to pass from slipping off into the mire. As we approached, the
Nicaraguan flag was displayed, and the half-dozen soldiers comprising
the guard were drawn up on the platform of the first hut. They presented
arms, and went through other formalities, in obedience to the
Commandante’s emphatic orders, with a gravity which, considering the
place and the circumstances, was sufficiently comical. The Commandante
assisted me up the slimy log, and upon the platform of the Custom House,
and gave me a seat in a hammock. Beneath the roof were several
coffin-like shelves, shut in closely by curtains of cotton cloth, and
reached by pegs driven in the posts of the edifice. These were
dormitories or sleeping places, thus fortified against the musquitos.
From the roof depended quantities of _plantains_, _maduras_ and
_verdes_, intermixed with festoons of _tasajo_ or hung-beef. A large box
filled with sand, at one end of the platform, was the fire-place, and
around it were a couple of old women engaged in grinding corn for
tortillas. The Commandante smiled at my evident surprise, and asked if
we had anything quite equal to this, in the way of customs
establishments, in the United States? It was a delightful place, he
added, for meditation; and a good one withal for young officers lavish
of their pay, for here they couldn’t spend a quartillo of it. He had
held the place for three months; but the Government was merciful, and
never inflicted it upon one man for more than six, unless he had
specially excited its displeasure. “In fact,” continued the Commandante,
“my devotion to the women is the cause of my banishment; not that I was
more open or immoderate in my amours than others, but because my
superior was my rival!” And the Commandante made a facetious allusion to
King David, and the bad example he had set to persons in authority.
After this I might have left the Commandante with an impression that,
whatever his past delinquencies, he was now a correct and proper young
man. But just at that moment the curtains of one of the dormitories,
which I had observed was occupied, were pushed apart, and a pair of
satin slippers, and eke a pair of tiny feet were projected, followed in
due course by the whole figure of a yellow girl, of more than ordinary
pretensions to beauty, dressed in the height of Nicaraguan fashion. I
comprehended at once that she had fled to the dormitory, upon our
approach, to make her toilette; and when the Commandante introduced me
to her as his _sobrina_, niece, I only ejaculated, _picaro!_ rascal!
There was little to interest us at this desolate place, and although the
Commandante urged us to stay to dinner, it was of more consequence to
avail ourselves of the ebb tide than to eat; so the six soldiers were
paraded again, and we pushed off, and fell down the stream. As we
rounded the first bend, we discovered several large boats, fastened to
the shore, and waiting for the turn of the tide, to ascend the
stream—for the current in the channel is so strong as to render it
impossible to row against it. Consequently all navigation is governed by
the rise and fall of the tide. The boats were filled with men, women,
and children, flying from the seat of war in Honduras. They gave us a
confused account of the advance of Gen. Guardiola to the coast, and said
that there had been a battle, in which the Government had been beaten,
with a variety of other startling rumors, which turned out to be
unfounded.
At six o’clock it was slack water, and our men pulled for awhile at the
oars. But the moment the flow commenced, they pushed in at a place where
a little cleared spot, and some grass, showed that there was an
elevation of the shore, and made fast to the roots of the overhanging
mangroves. The banks were very abrupt, and covered with little soldier
crabs, which paraded beneath the trees, and scrambled along their roots
in thousands. Some of the men stripped, dragged themselves up the slimy
banks, and with some wood, which they had brought, made a fire. For our
own part, we essayed to fish; but did not get even the poor
encouragement of a nibble. Yet there were abundance of fishes, of a
peculiar kind, all around us. They were called “anteojos,” or
spy-glasses, by the sailors, from their goggle eyes, which, placed at
the top of their heads, project above the water, like so many bubbles.
They were from six inches to a foot long, with bodies of a muddy, yellow
color, and went in shoals. When frightened, they would dart off, fairly
leaping out of the water, making a noise like a discharge of buckshot
skipping past. They were impudent fishes, and gathered round the boat,
with their staring eyes, while we were fishing, with an expression
equivalent to “what gringos!”
Our boat rose with the tide, and when it got within reach of the
overhanging branches, we clambered ashore. We found that here was an
open, sandy space, a hundred feet square, covered with traces of fires,
and with oyster and muscle shells,—evidences that it was a favorite
stopping-place with the marineros. The sun had so far declined as to
throw the whole Estero in the shade, while the light still glowed on the
opposite leafy shores. Altogether I was taken with the scene, and sipped
my claret amidst the swarthy sailors with a genuine Robinson Crusoeish
feeling. As night came on, we pushed out into the Estero, to avoid the
musquitos, and cast our anchor (a big stone) in eleven fathoms water.
The moon was past her first quarter, and the night was one of the
loveliest. The silence was unbroken, except by the sound of the distant
surf, brought to us by the sea breeze, and by an occasional, sullen
plunge, as of an alligator. I have said that at this season, when the
grass on the hills, with the ephemeral vegetation generally, is dried
up, nearly the whole country is burnt over. The forests through which we
had ridden that morning had been traversed by fiery columns. And now, as
it grew dark, we could see them slowly advancing up the sides of the
great volcano. At midnight they had reached its summit, and spreading
laterally, presented the appearance of a flaming triangle, traced
against the sky. So must the volcano have appeared in that remote period
when the molten lava flowed down its steep sides, and devastated the
plain at its base.
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[Illustration: VOLCANO OF COSEGUINA FROM THE SEA.]
[Illustration: VIEW ON THE ESTERO REAL.]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
During the night, when the tide turned, the patron lifted anchor, and
floated down with the current. The proceeding did not disturb my
slumbers, and when I woke next morning, we were in the midst of the Bay
of Fonseca, with a fair wind and all sails set, steering for the island
of Tigre, which lifted its high, dim cone immediately in front. Upon our
right, distant, but distinct beneath the morning light, was the low,
ragged volcano of Coseguina, whose terrible eruption in 1838 I have
already described. Other volcanoes and volcanic peaks defined the
outlines of this glorious Bay; and the porpoises tumbling around us, and
gulls poising in the air, or slowly flapping their crescent wings just
above the deep green waves, all reminded us that we were near the great
ocean. We went through the water with great velocity, and at eleven
o’clock, when the breeze began to decline, we were within five or six
miles of the island, which now presented a most magnificent appearance.
It is about thirty miles in circumference, with sloping shores; but
immediately in the centre rises a regular, conical, volcanic mountain,
between four and five thousand feet high, clothed almost to the summit
with a robe of trees. The top, however, is bare, and apparently covered
with burnt earth, of a rich brown color.
[Illustration: VOLCANO OF COSEGUINA.]
At noon, the wind having entirely died away, the men took to their oars,
and we coasted for upwards of two hours along the base of the island,
before reaching the Port of Amapala, which is situated upon its northern
side. In places the shore was projecting and abrupt, piled high with
rocks of lava, black and forbidding, upon which the sea-birds perched in
hundreds; elsewhere it receded, forming quiet little bays, with broad
sandy beaches, and a dense background of trees. We finally came to what
seemed to be the entrance of a narrow valley, where the forest had been
partially removed. Here we saw the thatched roofs of embowered huts,
with cattle grazing around them; and shortly after, turning round an
abrupt lava promontory, where, upon a huge rock, the English had painted
the flag of their country, in evidence of having taken possession of the
island “in the name of Her Majesty, Victoria the First,”—we darted into
the little bay of Amapala.
Two brigs, one Dutch, and the other American under the Chilian flag,
were lying in the harbor, which was still and smooth as a mirror,
bending with a crescent sweep into the land, with a high promontory on
either side, but with a broad, clear beach in front, upon which were
drawn up a great variety of bongos and canoes, including one or two trim
little schooners. In a row, following the curve of the shore, were the
huts of the inhabitants, built of canes, and thatched in the usual
manner. Back of these the ground rose gently, forming a broad ridge, and
over all towered the volcano of El Tigre. The most conspicuous features
of the village were two immense warehouses, belonging to Don Carlos
Dardano, an Italian merchant, whose enterprise had given importance to
the place. Through his influence the State of Honduras, to which the
island belongs, had constituted it a Free Port, and made a concession of
a certain quantity of land to every family which should establish itself
there. As a consequence, within two or three years, from a temporary
stopping-place for fishermen, Amapala had come to possess a considerable
and constantly increasing population and trade, and now bade fair to
rival La Union, the only port of San Salvador on the Bay of Fonseca.
We landed immediately in front of the principal warehouse, which was now
closed, by a decree of the authorities against Don Carlos, who had been
weak enough to accept the office of “Superintendent of the Island of
Tigre,” during the temporary English occupation, and who had been
obliged to retire into San Salvador, when it was evacuated. We found one
of his agents, however, a German, who, with his family, lived in the
smaller building, eating and sleeping amongst great heaps of hides, and
piles of indigo and tobacco bales, bags of Chilian flour, and boxes of
merchandise. He appeared to be a civil, well educated man, but wore his
shirt outside of his pantaloons, and altogether conformed to the habits
of the people around him.
The Commandante of the port had withdrawn the principal part of the
garrison, and joined the forces of the Government at Nacaome. His
lieutenant, nevertheless, “put himself at my disposition,” in the most
approved style; but I made no demand upon his courtesies, except for a
guide to lead us to the top of the hill overlooking the port. A scramble
of half an hour brought us to the spot. It was cleared, and commanded a
most extensive view of the Bay and its islands and distant shores. At
our feet, upon one hand, were the town and harbor, with a broad sweep of
tree-tops intervening; and on the other, a wide savanna, forming a
gigantic amphitheatre, in which were gardens of unbounded luxuriance.
But these only constituted the foreground of the magnificent panorama
which was spread out before us, and which combined all the elements of
the grand and beautiful. A small portion of the view, the entrance to
the Bay from the ocean, is presented in the frontispiece to the first
volume of this work. Upon one side is the volcano of Coseguina, rough
and angular, and upon the other that of Conchagua, distinguished for its
regular proportions and sweeping outlines. They are stupendous
landmarks, planted by nature to direct the mariner to the great and
secure haven at their base. Between them are the high islands of
Conchaguita and Mianguera, breaking the swell of the sea, and dividing
the entrance into three broad channels, through each of which the
largest vessels may pass with ease. All of these entrances, as shown by
the map, are commanded by the Tigre; and it is this circumstance, joined
to its capabilities for easy defence, which gives the island much of its
importance.
The view to the north takes in the islands of Martin Perez, Posesion,
and Punta de Sacate, belonging to San Salvador; and Sacate Grande,
belonging to Honduras. These had all been seized by the English at the
time of their piratical descent on the Tigre. Sacate Grande is the
largest, and, in common with the rest, is of volcanic origin. It is
rough and fantastic in outline, and almost entirely destitute of forest
trees. The scoriaceous hills support only _sacate_, or grass, which,
during the dry season, becomes yellow, and gives the island the
appearance of being covered with ripe and golden grain.
But beyond the islands, which Mr. Stephens has observed surpass those of
the Grecian Archipelago in beauty, is a belt of mountains on the
main-land, relieved by the volcanoes of San Miguel and Guanacaure, and
numerous other tall but nameless peaks. I spent an hour on the hill in
mapping the Bay and taking the bearings of the principal landmarks, and
at four o’clock returned to the port, hungry, but too much excited by
the scene to feel wearied. Here I found an officer of the Government of
Honduras, who had come down to procure additional supplies for the army.
He gave me the startling news that Gen. Guardiola, at the head of three
thousand men, was only one day’s march from Nacaome, and that a battle
might now be hourly expected. I had intended to spend the night on the
island; but this news, joined to the solicitations of the officer
himself, determined me to proceed at once to San Lorenzo, on the
main-land, and thence, next morning, to Nacaome. But our bongo was high
and dry on the beach, and we had to wait for the rising of the tide in
order to get her off. Meantime we dined, and strolled along the shore to
a little headland, which the English, during their stay, had attempted
to fortify. They had constructed a kind of stockade, surrounded by a
ditch, with embrasures for artillery, and loopholes for musketry. But in
order to save labor, and yet to frighten off assailants, a considerable
part of the enclosure was built of a kind of wicker-work of canes,
plastered on the outside with mud. It was pierced for guns also, and
looked as formidable as some of the pasteboard forts of the Chinese,
from whom the suggestion seems to have been derived. The enclosure was
now used as a pen for some sheep, which the agent of Don Carlos had
recently introduced on the island. I hope this fact will afford some
consolation to the builders; it must be gratifying to them to know that
their labors have not been wholly lost![39]
-----
Footnote 39:
Had I not determined to exclude from my Narrative any extended
allusion to political affairs with which I was in any way connected,
this would be a proper place to present a true statement of the
circumstances of the seizure of this island and Bay by the officers of
Great Britain. These circumstances have been grossly misrepresented;
and a British Envoy has gone to the extent of asserting, not only that
the outrage was “provoked” by circumstances which transpired _after
the act was committed_, and with which the perpetrators were wholly
unacquainted, but also to admit, in his correspondence with a
confederate, that this assertion was made with a full knowledge of its
falsity, and for the purpose of shielding that confederate from odium,
by shifting it to innocent shoulders! Should self-justification seem
to require it, a succinct account of that seizure may be given in the
Appendix to this volume.
-----
The Bay of Fonseca probably constitutes the finest harbor on the
Pacific. In its capacities it is said to surpass its only rival, the Bay
of San Francisco, which it much resembles in form. Its entire length,
within the land, is about eighty miles, by from thirty to thirty-five in
breadth. The three States of Honduras, San Salvador, and Nicaragua, have
ports upon it. The principal port is that of La Union, situated on the
subordinate bay of the same name, and belonging to San Salvador. The
inner shores are low, but with a country back of them of unbounded
fertility, penetrated by several considerable streams, some of which may
be navigated. The mountains which separate it from the sea are high, and
effectually protect it from the winds and storms. It has, in nearly
every part, an abundance of water for the largest ships, which, in the
little bay of Amapala, may lie within a cable-length of the shore. The
entrance may be effected with any wind, and the exit can always be made
with the tide. Fresh water may be obtained in abundance on the islands
and along the shores; the climate is delicious and healthy; the
surrounding mountains furnish timber of superior quality, including
pine, for ship building and repairs; in short, nature has here lavished
every requisite to make the Bay of Fonseca the great naval centre of the
globe. But what gives peculiar importance to it, and lends significance
to the attempted seizure by Great Britain, is the fact that, if a ship
canal is ever opened across the Continent, it seems more than probable
that its western terminus must be, _via_ the Estero Real, in this Bay.
The evidence in support of this opinion will appear in another
connection.
The islands in the Bay are of great beauty. Several of them had
anciently a large population of Indians. In Dampier’s time there were
two considerable Indian towns on the island of Tigre, and one on
Mianguera. But the natives were so much oppressed by the pirates who
made this Bay their principal station on the South Sea, that they fled
to the main-land, and have never returned. Drake had his headquarters on
the island of Tigre, during his operations in the Pacific, and, under
one pretext or another, it has been much frequented by British national
vessels for many years. Its importance, in a naval point of view, is
well understood by the Admiralty, under whose orders it was carefully
surveyed by Capt. Belcher, R. N., in 1839. No American war vessel, it is
probably unnecessary to add, has ever entered the waters of this Bay,
although it is clear, to the narrowest comprehension, that it completely
commands the whole coast from Panama to San Diego, and in the hands of
any maritime nation, must control the transit across either isthmus, and
with it the commerce of the world.