Nicaragua

THE VICINITY OF LEON—THE BISHOP’S BATHS—FUENTE DE AXUSCO—“CERRO DE LOS AMERICANOS”—A MILITARY BALL AND CIVIC DINNER—GEN. GUERRERO—OFFICIAL VISIT FROM THE INDIAN MUNICIPALITY OF SUBTIABA—SIMON ROQUE—A SECRET—ADDRESS AND REPLY—VISIT RETURNED—THE CABILDO—AN EMPTY TREASURY—“SUBTIABA, LEAL Y FIEL”—ROYAL CEDULAS—FORMING A VOCABULARY—“UNA DECIMA”—THE INDIANS OF NICARAGUA; STATURE; COMPLEXION; DISPOSITION; BRAVERY; INDUSTRY; SKILL IN THE ARTS—MANUFACTURE OF COPPER—PRIMITIVE MODE OF SPINNING—TYRIAN PURPLE—PETATES AND HAMMOCKS—POTTERY—“AGUACALES,” AND “JICARAS,”—COSTUME—ORNAMENTS—ABORIGINAL INSTITUTIONS—THE CONQUEST OF NICARAGUA—ENORMITIES PRACTISED TOWARDS THE INDIANS—PRESENT CONDITION OF THE INDIANS—THE SEQUEL OF SOMOZA’S INSURRECTION—BATTLES OF THE OBRAJE AND SAN JORGE—CAPTURE AND EXECUTION OF SOMOZA—MODERATE POLICY OF THE GOVERNMENT—RETURN OF GEN. MUNOZ—MEDALS—FESTIVAL OF PEACE—NOVEL PROCESSION—A BLACK SAINT.

The country adjacent to Leon is very fine, and the “paseos” or rides in the vicinity, although lacking an important element of beauty, the proximity of water, are not without variety and interest. My first expedition on horseback was to a place called the Bishop’s Baths. We rode through the barrio de San Juan, where the carreteros most do congregate to the edge of the northern ravine. Here we found a path literally shut in with cactuses and trees covered with vines, which led to the ruins of an ancient gateway, beyond which had once been the suburban seat of the Bishops of Nicaragua. It was a beautiful spot; the ground had been artificially smoothed, and beneath the large trees which shadowed over it, were the remains of stone seats, and of pedestals which had once sustained crosses and the statues of the saints. In front of where the house had stood, before its destruction during the troubles of the revolutionary period, there was an abrupt slope to the stream at the bottom of the ravine. This slope had formerly been terraced, and descended by a winding way. The baths were of stone, and although now in ruins, still gave evidences of the taste and luxury which had led to their construction. A couple of women, naked with the exception of a single cloth around their loins, were washing in the principal bath, but they vacated it temporarily at our request, and we took possession. The seclusion of the place, the limpid purity of the water, and the deep shade in which everything was shrouded, enchanted me with the spot, and I could not help thinking that it must have been selected by one of the rosiest and jolliest of the old bishops whose portraits had tipped me a friendly wink from the walls of the heavy room where they were imprisoned in the cathedral. But I afterwards found that this was but one only of a thousand equally beautiful spots in the neighborhood of the city. That, however, to which my memory reverts most frequently, is the “fuente de Axusco,” distant about two miles to the southward of the town. It is a broad pool, at the bottom of a ravine, shut in by steep banks on every side, and reached by a single narrow path. The water is tepid, and bursts, pure as crystal, in a large volume from beneath the rocks. It is literally arched over with trees, and curtained in with vines. This place was my favorite resort during the whole of my residence in the country. I rose at early dawn, despatched a cup of coffee, and mounting my horse, generally reached the place just as the sun began to tinge the summit of the distant volcanoes. The path lay through fields covered with trees and bushes, spangled all over with flowers, and glittering with dew-drops. The cool, bracing morning air, the quick action of the horse, and the grateful plunge into the quiet pool,—I think I never enjoyed so much the mere pleasure of existence, as during my visits to the “fuente de Axusco.” There stood a cross in a nook near the pool, and I often observed chaplets of fresh flowers suspended upon it. It puzzled me exceedingly, and one day, finding a little boy seated beside it, I asked him why it was there? It commemorated an awful murder, he said, and that was all he knew, except that the victim was a woman. Beyond the “fuenta,” is the range of low hills which I have mentioned as bordering the plain of Leon on the side of the ocean. I had the trees cut down on the most commanding peak, and rode there so frequently that the rancheros in the vicinity christened it “el cerro de los Americanos,” the hill of the Americans. From this point the eye traversed the whole vast plain, and took in every object of interest. Upon one hand the forests alone shut the lake of Managua from view, while upon the other the broad Pacific lay bright and beautiful on the edge of the horizon. With a glass the vessels in the harbor of Realejo, and the outlines of the volcano of Coseguina, distant more than a hundred miles, could easily be distinguished. A view from the “cerro de los Americanos” is an incident in a man’s lifetime not likely to be forgotten. Its impression upon my own mind is too distinct ever to be effaced.

Our second week in Leon was signalized by a military ball and a government dinner, both on a scale far surpassing anything of the kind which had been witnessed in the city for many years. The ball was under the special patronage of Gen. Don Jose Guerrero, who had just finished a term as Director of the State, but who had accepted the command of the garrison in the absence of the General-in-chief. It was during his administration that the seizure of San Juan by the English had taken place, and it was his eloquent appeal, in a circular addressed to all civilized nations, which had arrested the attention and awakened the sympathy of General Taylor and his cabinet. My arrival in the country, it can readily be understood, was to him a source of the profoundest satisfaction; and during my official residence in Leon, I had no warmer friend than General Guerrero. May he live to witness the fruition of the policy which he marked out for his country, and the realization of those high and patriotic hopes which he has so long and so devotedly cherished!

Amongst the most pleasing incidents connected with my arrival was a formal visit from the municipal authorities of the Indian pueblo of Subtiaba, who, in their way, are amongst the sturdiest republicans in all Nicaragua. At their head was Simon Roque, with whom I afterwards established an intimate friendship. He presented me an address, written both in the Indian language and in Spanish, and accompanied it with a speech, which was far above the average, both in language and sentiment, and altogether a favorable specimen of Indian eloquence. Simon and his companions were dressed in spotless white, and each wore a red sash about his waist, and carried a gold-headed cane, an insignia of office, in his hands. They were curious to know about the Indian population of the United States, and I blush to say it, I was ashamed to tell them the truth. They had heard that I was a great friend of the Indians, and on the lookout for “piedras antiguas.” They had something to tell me on that subject, but it could only be done when we were alone. So the sala was cleared, and Simon, after some circumlocution, informed me that they knew of certain ancient stones which their ancestors had buried a very long time ago, and which, if I wished, they would present to me, on the peremptory condition, however, that their locality should be kept a profound secret. I was too glad to have an opportunity to assent to any conditions, and it was finally agreed that, as it would be impossible for me to attend to the business now, some of the stones should be excavated at once, and sent to my residence. They were as good as their word; and a couple of mornings thereafter we were surprised at finding two statues at the threshold of the portal; and a few nights later a cart appeared with two more,—of all which a description will be given in another place. This little piece of confidence over, I treated the company to as much claret as they chose to drink, and we parted with the understanding that I should return the visit at an early day. The address and reply were as follows:

The reader may be assured that I did not forget my promise to the municipality of Subtiaba. A day was shortly afterwards fixed for my visit, and I was received with great ceremony at the cabildo, or council chamber, where I found collected all the old men who could assist me in forming a vocabulary of the ancient language, which I had casually expressed a desire to procure. It was with difficulty that we could effect an entrance, for a half-holiday had been given to the boys of all the schools in honor of the occasion, and they literally swarmed around the building. We were finally ushered into an inner room, where the archives of the municipality were preserved. Upon one side was a large chest of heavy wood, with massive locks, which had anciently been the strong box or treasury. A shadow fell over Simon’s face as he pointed it out to me, and said that he could remember the time when it was filled with “duros,” hard dollars, and when, at a single stroke of the alarm bell, two thousand armed men could be gathered in the plaza of Subtiaba. But those days were passed, and the municipality now scarcely retained a shadow of its former greatness. Under the crown it had earned the title “leal y fiel,” loyal and true; and in reward of its fidelity it had received a grant of all the lands intervening between it and the ocean, to hold in perpetuity for the benefit of its citizens. And Simon showed me the royal letters, signed “Yo, el Rey” (I, the King), which the emperors of Spain had thought it not derogatory to their dignity to address to his predecessors in office; and notwithstanding his ardent republicanism, I thought Simon looked at them with something of regret. I inquired for manuscripts which might throw some light upon the early history of the country, but found only musty records, of no interest or value.

My attempts to fill out the blank vocabulary with which I was provided created a great deal of merriment. I enjoyed it quite as much as any of them, for nothing could be more amusing than the discussions between the old men in respect to certain doubtful words and phrases. They sometimes quite forgot my presence, and rated each other soundly as ignoramuses; whereat Simon was greatly scandalized, and threatened to put them all in the stocks as “hombres sin verguenza,” men destitute of shame. “Ah!” said he, “these old sinners give me more trouble than the young ones”—a remark which created great mirth amongst the outsiders, and especially amongst the young vagabonds who clung like monkeys to the window bars. The group of swarthy, earnest faces gathered round the little table, upon which was heaped a confused mass of ancient, time-stained papers, would have furnished a study for a painter. It was quite dark when I had concluded my inquiries, but I was not permitted to leave without listening to a little poem, “Una Decima,” written by one of the schoolmasters, who read it to me by the light of a huge wax candle, borrowed, I am sure, from the church for the occasion. My modesty forbids my attempting a translation, and so I compromise matters by submitting the original:

As I mounted my horse, Don Simon led off with three cheers for “El Ministro del Norte,” and followed it with three more for “El Amigo de los Indios” (the friend of the Indians), all of which was afterwards paraded by a dingy little Anglo-servile paper published in Costa Rica, as evidence that I was tampering with the Indians, and exciting them to undertake the utter destruction of the white population!

The Indians of Nicaragua, who, as I have said, predominate in the country, are singularly docile and industrious, and constitute what would, in some countries, be called an excellent “rural population.” They are a smaller race of men than the Indians of the United States, but have fine muscular developments, and a singularly mild and soft expression of countenance. In color also they are lighter, and their features less strongly marked. Some of the women are exceedingly pretty, and when young, have figures beautifully and classically moulded. They are entirely unobtrusive in their manners, seldom speaking unless first addressed, and are always kind and hospitable to strangers. They are not warlike but brave, and when reduced to the necessity, fight with the most desperate obstinacy. Leon has more than once owed its safety to the Indian battalion of Subtiaba, which, in the civil wars of 1838-39, marched triumphantly from one end of Central America to the other.

The agriculture of the State is almost entirely carried on by them; but they are not deficient in mechanical skill, and with the rudest tools often produce the most delicate and elaborate articles of workmanship. The women manufacture a large quantity of cotton for their own consumption and for sale. And in riding through Subtiaba in the afternoon, no spectacle is more common than to see a woman naked to the waist, sitting in the doorway of almost every hut, or beneath the shadow of an adjacent tree, busily engaged in spinning cotton. A little foot-wheel, such as was formerly in use for spinning flax in our own country, is here commonly used for this purpose. But the aboriginal contrivance is not yet wholly displaced. It is exceedingly simple, consisting of a thin spindle of wood fifteen or sixteen inches in length, which is passed through a fly, or wheel of hard, heavy wood, six inches in diameter, resembling the wheel of a pulley, except that it is convex instead of concave on the edge. The spindle thus resembles a gigantic top. When used it is placed in a calabash, or hollowed piece of wood, to prevent it from toppling over, when not in motion. A thread is attached to it, just above the fly, and it is then twirled rapidly between the thumb and fore-finger. The momentum of the fly keeps it in motion for half a minute, and meantime the thread is drawn out by the hands of the operator, from the pile of prepared cotton which she holds in her lap. It is then wound on the spindle, and the process repeated, until the spindle is full of thread.

In the foregoing cut a represents the cotton; b, b, the spindle; d, the fly; c, the thread already spun and wound; and e, e, the outlines of the calabash. A precisely similar mode of spinning was practised by the ancient Mexicans, who, however, inserted the lower end of the spindle in a hole made in a block of wood, as shown in the accompanying engraving. The mode of weaving amongst the Indians of Nicaragua was anciently the same as that of the Mexicans, which is sufficiently well illustrated in the following engraving, copied from the Codex Mendoza, a Mexican manuscript or painting.

Some of the cotton fabrics manufactured by the Indians are very durable, and woven in tasteful figures of various colors. The color most valued is the Tyrian purple, obtained from the murex shell-fish, which is found upon the Pacific coast of Nicaragua. This color is produced of any desirable depth and tone, and is permanent; unaffected alike by exposure to the sun and to the action of alkalies. The process of dying the thread illustrates the patient assiduity of the Indians. It is taken to the seaside, when a sufficient number of shells are collected, which being dried from the sea water, the work is commenced. Each shell is taken up singly, and a slight pressure upon the valve which closes its mouth forces out a few drops of the coloring fluid, which is then almost destitute of color. In this each thread is dipped singly, and after absorbing enough of the precious liquid, is carefully drawn out between the thumb and finger, and laid aside to dry. Whole days and nights are spent in this tedious process, until the work is completed. At first the thread is of a dull blue color, but upon exposure to the atmosphere acquires the desired tint. The fish is not destroyed by the operation, but is returned to the sea, when it lays in a new stock of coloring matter for a future occasion.^[19]

The manufacture of “petates,” or variegated mats, from the bark of the palm, and hammocks from the “pita,” a species of agave, is exclusively in Indian hands. They are also skillful in the manufacture of pottery, which has remained unchanged from the period before the Conquest. The “cantaros,” water-jars, and other vessels in common use, amongst all classes, are made by them. They are formed by hand, without the aid of the potter’s wheel, and are variously and often elaborately colored and ornamented, baked, and when intended for purposes requiring it, are partially glazed. The water-jars, however, are porous, so as to admit of enough water passing through to keep the outer surface covered with moisture, the evaporation of which rapidly and effectually cools the contents of the vessel. Oviedo commends highly the skill which the ancient inhabitants displayed in the manufacture of their pottery, and which is very well sustained both by the fragments which are found, and by the wares which the Indians still manufacture. “They make basins, plates, jars, and pitchers, of very fine pottery, black and smooth as velvet, and brilliant as jet. I have brought some specimens, which are so fine that they might be offered to a prince.” Thus saith the chronicler.

Mr. W. H. Edwards, in his narrative of “A Voyage up the Amazon,” p. 114, describes the preparation and painting of pottery by the Indians on that river. The brushes or pencils were the small species of palms, and the coloring matter the simplest kinds. The blue was indigo; black, the juice of the mandioca; green, the juice of some other plant; and the red and yellow, clays. The colors were applied in squares and circles, or if anything imitative was intended, in the rudest outlines. The glazing was produced by a resinous gum found in the forests, which was gently rubbed over the vessels, previously warmed over a bed of coals. This description applies equally to the modes practised in Nicaragua.

They also make drinking vessels from the calabash; the largest varieties are called “guacals,” or “aguacals,” and the smaller ones, made from the long or pear-shaped calabash, “jicaras.” These last are often tastefully carved upon their exteriors, and are generally used instead of tumblers. It is indispensable that “tiste” should be served in “jicaras,” and amongst the people at large they are also used for coffee and chocolate. But as their bottoms are round, little carved stands are made to receive them. The Indians near the city of Nicaragua make similar cups from a variety of cocoa-nut peculiar to that vicinity, which are celebrated throughout their country for their beauty of shape and ornament. They are black, and highly polished, and when mounted with silver, are greatly prized by foreigners. They occasionally find their way to the principal cities of this country and Europe, and into the curiosity shops, where they are often classed as of Chinese or Japanese origin. Sometimes they bear inscriptions, such as “Soy de Manuela Gomez,” I belong to Manuela Gomez, or “Orar á Dios!” Pray to God! The carving is made with instruments of the rudest description, manufactured by the artist himself from the blade of a razor, or from a three-cornered file, rubbed down to a cutting point on the stones which lie around his hut. He uses this improvised graver with a firm and practised hand.

The dress of the Indians is exceedingly simple. On ordinary occasions, the women wear only a white or flowered skirt, fastened around the waist, leaving the upper part of the person entirely exposed, or but partially covered by a handkerchief fastened around the neck. In Masaya and some other places, a square piece of cloth, of native manufacture, and of precisely the same style and pattern with that used for the same purpose before the Discovery, supplies the place of the skirt. It is fastened in some incomprehensible way, without the aid of strings or pins, and falls from the hips a little below the knees. The guipil and nagua are however adopted in nearly all the large towns, and are everywhere worn on festival days and Sundays. The men wear a kind of cotton drawers, fastened above the hips, but frequently reaching no lower than the knees. Sandals supplys the place of shoes, but for the most part both sexes go with their feet bare. The taste for ornament is universal; and a rosary, to which is attached a little golden, silver, or ebony cross, is suspended from the necks of male and female, old and young. They are also fond of flowers, and the girls are seldom without some of them entwined amongst the luxuriant locks of their long, black hair, or braided in a chaplet and encircling their foreheads.

The municipality of Subtiaba, in common with the barrios of some of the towns, holds lands, as I have said, in virtue of royal grants, in its corporate capacity. These lands are inalienable, and are leased to the inhabitants at low and almost nominal rates. Every citizen is entitled to a sufficient quantity to enable him to support himself and his family; for which he pays from four rials (half a dollar,) to two dollars a year. This practice seems to have been of aboriginal institution; for under the ancient Indian organization, the right to live was recognized as a fundamental principle in the civil and social system. No man was supposed to be entitled to more land than was necessary to his support; nor was he permitted to hold more than that, to the exclusion or injury of others.

In fact, many of the institutions of the Indians in this country were recognized, and have been perpetuated by the Spaniards. Some of the ceremonies of the aboriginal ritual have also been incorporated amongst the rites of the Catholic Church. In many respects it is hard to say whether the conquerors have assimilated most to the Indians, or the Indians to the Spaniards. For, however rude and subverting the first shock of Spanish conquest in America, the subsequent policy of Spain, framed and directed by the famous Council of the Indies, was that of conciliation. In common with the church, it conceded much to the habits and feelings of the aborigines, and to a certain extent conformed to them.

The conquest of Nicaragua was effected with no less violence than that of Mexico and Peru; and if we may credit the account of Las Casas, the pious bishop of Chiapa, who visited the country in person, it was both attended and followed by extraordinary cruelties. He charges the enormity chiefly upon Pedro Arias de Avila, Governor of Darien, who sent Cordova to subdue the country, and who himself afterwards became its governor.

“The Indians of this province,” he says, “were naturally of a mild and peaceable temper; yet notwithstanding this, the Governor, or rather Tyrant, with the ministers of his cruelty, treated them in the same manner as they did those of the other kingdoms. They committed murders and robberies, more than it is possible for pen to relate. Upon the slightest pretexts, the soldiers massacred the inhabitants without regard to age, sex, or condition. They exacted from them certain measures of corn, and certain numbers of slaves, and if these were not rendered, hesitated not to kill the delinquents. And the country being plain, the people were unable to escape to the mountains as they did elsewhere, and were consequently at the mercy of the Spanish horse. They carried off many thousands as slaves, slaying those who fainted or wearied on the march.

“The Governor once arbitrarily changed the distribution of the Indians, conveying most of them to his favorites, to the exclusion of those with whom he was displeased. The result of this was a great scarcity of food; and the Spaniards seizing upon the provisions of the Indians, caused a great distress, and induced a disorder which destroyed upwards of thirty thousand of the people.

“All the cities, and fields around them, were like pleasant gardens, which the Spaniards cultivated according to the share which each one had assigned him by lot; and to save their own revenues, supported themselves from the stores of the Indians, thus consuming, in a short time, what these poor people had got together with great care and toil. Nobles, women, and children were all compelled to work day and and night; many died under the burthens which were imposed upon them. For they obliged them to carry on their shoulders to the ports, which were in some cases distant thirty leagues, the plank and timbers used in building vessels.”

Las Casas, however, regards the practice of exacting slaves from the caziques, for transportation and sale elsewhere, as one of the chief causes of the depopulation of the country. Five or six ship-loads were annually taken to Peru and Panama, and sold there. He calculates that half a million of Indians were thus drawn out of Nicaragua alone; but this number appears incredible. The statement that from fifty to sixty thousand perished in the wars of the Conquest is perhaps, nearer the truth; for, as he observes, “this was one of the best peopled countries in all America.”

When the Council of the Indies began to repress the cruelties of the conquerors, the governors of Nicaragua proved themselves refractory; indeed, Rodrigo de Contreras openly disobeyed his instructions in this respect, which was the proximate cause of the insurrection headed by his son, to which I have elsewhere alluded.

The following incident, related by Oviedo, will illustrate the severe and repulsive measures which were practised towards the Indians at this early period. “In 1528, the treasurer, Alonzo de Peralta, and a man named Zurita, and the brothers Ballas, left the city of Leon, each to visit the villages and Indians belonging to him. They never returned, having been destroyed by their own vassals. Hereupon Pedro Arias de Avila sent out soldiers to bring in some of the malefactors. They arrested seventeen or eighteen caziques whom Pedro Arias caused to be strangled by dogs. The execution took place in the following manner, on Tuesday, the 16th of June of the same year, in the public square of Leon. Each cazique was armed with a stick, and told to defend himself against the dogs, and to kill them if he could. Five or six young dogs were first set upon them, which their masters wished to train, as they were yet without experience. They ran baying around the Indian, who easily kept them off with his stick; but the moment he thought himself conqueror, a couple of mastiffs, or well-trained hounds, were sent against him, who threw him in a moment. The other dogs then fell upon him, biting and choking him, tearing out his entrails, and devouring him, as it were. In this manner the eighteen were soon disposed of. They were from the valley of Olocoton, and its vicinity. When the dogs were satiated, the dead bodies remained in the same place, it being forbidden to carry them off, under penalty of being served in like manner; otherwise the Indians would have taken them away. They were thus left in order to frighten the natives; but on the second day the stench of the dead bodies became insupportable. And on the fourth, it was so horrible that, being compelled to pass there in going to the house of the governor, I begged him to give permission to have them carried away; which he did the more readily, since his house was situated near the square.”

But whatever their former condition, the Indians of Nicaragua no longer labor under any disabilities. They enjoy equal privileges with the whites, and may aspire to any position, however high, both in the Church and State. The system of peonage (slavery under a less repugnant name) is here unknown. Yet the Indian retains his traditionary deference for the white man, and tacitly admits his superiority. In some of the States of Central America, a jealousy of caste has been artfully excited by unscrupulous partisans, for unworthy purposes, which has led to most deplorable results; but in Nicaragua, if this feeling exists at all, it is only in a latent form. At any rate, it has never displayed itself in any of those frightful demonstrations which have almost desolated Guatemala and portions of Peru, and which threaten the entire extinction of the white race in Yucatan. This quiet, however, may be that of the slumbering volcano; and its continuance may depend very much upon the judicious encouragement of white emigration from the United States and from Europe.

The original inhabitants of Nicaragua, and of Central America generally, seem to have been of the true Toltecan stock. So too were the nations of Anahuac, the Aztecs or Mexicans, but modified and deteriorated by association and intermixture with the barbarous Chichemecas. From this source they derived the fiercer and more savage traits in their characters; and even now, notwithstanding that they have to a great extent adopted new customs, and been subjected to the influences of Spanish association for more than three hundred years, the distinguishing traits of the two families are easily to be recognized. The mild, brave but not warlike, industrious, intelligent, and law-abiding Indians about Leon, of the purer Toltecan blood, furnish in their smaller and more rounded forms, their regular features, clear eyes, and cheerful expression, a decided contrast to the restless, treacherous, and cruel Indians round the ancient city of Nicaragua. The latter are taller, more bony, with sharper and often irregular features, and with an always reserved if not sullen expression. The contrast is hardly greater than between the French and the Dutch. Yet none of these Indians could ever be confounded with the roving tribes of our latitude. They have certain generic or radical identities, but in most physical and mental features, are widely different. Those of Central America are capable of high improvement, and have a facility of assimilation or adaptation. They constitute, when favorably situated, the best class of citizens, and would anywhere make what in Europe is called a good rural or working population. I have found some really comprehensive minds amongst them,—men of quick and acute apprehension, and great decision and energy of character.

In brief, the better I become acquainted with the various aboriginal families of the continent, the higher position I am disposed to award them, and the less I am disposed to assent to the relative rank assigned them by the systematic writers.

I have already mentioned the interview between our American friend in Granada, and the rebel chief, Somoza. Soon after our arrival in Leon, positive information was received that he had been successful in his descent upon San Carlos, and had got possession of the arms and ammunition which had been deposited there. He, however, did not attempt to retain possession of the place, but returned immediately with his spoils to the city of Nicaragua. Meantime, nevertheless, as I have already intimated, the support which he had received from the party opposed to the government, had been entirely withdrawn, in consequence of the excesses which he had committed, and he came back to find his adherents dispirited and rapidly diminishing. The decision and energy of the government further contributed to weaken his power; and when the General-in-chief arrived in his neighborhood, he was left with less than half his original forces. His spirit, however, never failed him, and he boldly advanced to meet the troops of the government. The first battle was at a place called the “Obraje.” Here he was worsted, and compelled to fall back upon his original position, at the town of San George, about a league distant from the city of Rivas, or Nicaragua. General Muñoz, having effected a junction with the volunteers from Granada, who had proceeded by water, attacked him here the next day, (July 14th,) completely routed his forces, and took him and his principal followers prisoners. It is hardly necessary to add that they were tried by court-martial, and shot.

The information of these events was received in Leon with extravagant demonstrations of joy, and for a whole day we were stunned by the firing of guns and the ringing of bells. In the evening the following Bulletin was issued:

These events put an end to the internal disturbances of the State. The followers of Somoza at once disbanded, and returned to their homes. A few arrests were made; but with a moderation which reflected honor upon the government, and commended it to the people at large, a general amnesty was conceded to all who had participated in the insurrection, upon the condition of the surrender of their arms, and the restitution of the property and valuables which they had taken, and which commissioners were appointed to receive, and to restore to their rightful owners.

Upon the 16th of August following, having completely reëstablished order, and taken proper precautions against further disturbances, Gen. Muñoz returned with his forces to Leon. He was met by a deputation from the city at the “Convento,” where speeches were made, and congratulations exchanged, and whence the troops marched in triumph to the city. They were received with great enthusiasm, and proceeded in a body to the Cathedral, where the “Te Deum” was sung in acknowledgment of their safe return. The extraordinary battalion was at once disbanded, and the regulars only retained in the service. It was some months, however, before the vigilance of the government was at all diminished, and not until every revolutionary symptom seemed to have died out. Subsequently a medal was voted to the General, “for the excellent services which, under God,” he had rendered the State. It was ordered to be of gold, and to contain upon one side a laurel wreath, with the words, “To the Defender of Liberty and Order in Nicaragua;” and upon the reverse a naked sword, with the inscription, “For his Triumph of July 14, 1849.” Medals were also voted to the subordinate officers who had particularly distinguished themselves on the same occasion; and the “soldiers and patriots” who had fought in the ranks, were decorated upon the left shoulder with a shield, bordered with gold, containing a palm tree in the centre, with two swords crossed below, and the words “Rivas, July 14, 1849.” The State also voted a pension “to the wounded, and to the fathers, widows, and children of those who had fallen in the service.” And at the same time decreed “that in profound recognition of his visible protection, the corporations and authorities of the State, civil and military, would unite in a public and solemn manifestation of thanks to God, in the holy Cathedral, on the 2d of September.”

And while upon this subject, I may anticipate events a little, and describe the ceremonial, for which great preparations were made, and which was conducted with great solemnity. Upon the morning of the day high mass was said in the Cathedral, in presence of all the officers of State, and the army. The soldiers occupied the grand aisle, and the citizens filled the outer ones. After this was concluded, a procession was formed, preceded by a large silver cross, beneath which drooped the flag of the State. Then came the military band, next the host, borne by the Bishop in person, beneath a heavy crimson canopy of velvet. He was surrounded by the higher dignitaries of the church, and followed by the officers of the State and army, bare-headed, and all moving in a hollow square of soldiers, also with heads uncovered and guns reversed. Then came the chanters of the Cathedral, the soldiers, and the citizens. But the most singular features of the procession were the statues of the saints, which, borne on men’s shoulders, were distributed at intervals throughout the line. Many of these were of the size of life, and in their golden, tinselled, and fantastic robes, produced a very singular effect. Amongst them was San Benito, a little black fellow, canonized, doubtless, by a far-seeing and politic church to conciliate the colored population. He is, by the way, the most popular saint in Nicaragua, and has a grand annual festival at Masaya, to which devotees flock from all parts of Central America. Men, women, and children alike joined in the “Procession of Peace,” which moved slowly through the principal streets, stopping in front of each of the churches to chant a prayer of thanks. It finally returned to the Cathedral, where the “Te Deum” was sung, and the assemblage dismissed under a benediction from the Bishop. No sooner was this more sober part of the ceremony over, than the everlasting ringing of bells and the firing of guns commenced again, and was kept up until dark, when there was an exhibition of fireworks in the plaza.

Thus ended the insurrection of Somoza, and thenceforward Leon wore a more cheerful aspect. The conduct of the government, from its commencement to its close, was marked with great justice and moderation, and afforded, in these respects, a striking and most favorable contrast to that which has for many years distinguished military operations in Central America.