Nicaragua

AMUSEMENTS IN LEON—COCK FIGHTING—“PATIO DE LOS GALLOS”—DECLINE OF THE COCK PIT—GAMING—BULL BAITING—NOVEL RIDING—“UNA SAGRADA FUNCION,” OR MYSTERY—A POEM, AND A DRAMA—“UNA COMPANIA DE FUNAMBULOS,” OR ROPE DANCERS—GREAT ANTICIPATIONS—A NOVEL THEATRE—THE PERFORMANCE—“LA JOVENA CATALINA,” AND THE “ECCENTRIC CLOWN, SIMON,”—“TOBILLOS GRUESOS,” OR “BIG ANKLES.”—“FIESTAS,” AND SAINTS’ DAYS—THE “FIESTA” OF ST. ANDREW—DANCE OF THE DEVILS—UNEARTHLY MUSIC—ALL-SAINTS’ DAY—A CARNIVAL IN SUBTIABA—AN ABRUPT CONCLUSION.

The novelty of a first visit once worn off, there is little to interest the stranger in Leon. There are no “stated” amusements, except at the cock-pit, which is open every Sunday afternoon. This is always crowded, but not often visited by the better portion of the population. It is a smooth spot of ground in the court-yard of the proprietor’s house, fenced in by canes to the height of about four feet, surrounded by high benches, and covered with a thatched roof. In the corridors of the house are little stalls, in which the cocks are kept, and here the wife and daughters of the proprietor sell chocolate and dulces to the visitors. No liquors are allowed upon the premises; and the Government, with a wise prevision, has always an alcalde and a file of soldiers present to preserve order. Visitors are admitted at a medio a head, and each one is at liberty to bring his “bird” with him. If a match cannot be made otherwise, the proprietor is obliged to accept the challenge of any of his visitors. A certain sum is paid to him on each cock entered, one-fourth of which goes into the city treasury. I visited the place but once, and suppose that the manner of fighting the cocks can afford but little, of what, I believe, is called “sport.” After a match was made up, the cocks had long, sword-shaped gaffs, double-edged, sharp as needles, and in some cases three or four inches long, bound on their legs, with which they almost invariably crippled themselves in their preliminary manœuvers. The contests were consequently very brief; one or two passes generally finished them. The bets were never high, but the excitement none the less in consequence. In former times, the proprietor told me, he numbered all the “caballeros” of the city amongst his visitors, and then golden ounces were wagered instead of dirty rials,—and he drew a handful of the latter from his pocket with a contemptuous sneer, and then violently thrust them back again. He longed for a change; any change would be acceptable to him which should bring back the caballeros and the golden ounces!

But because the more respectable people of Leon do not frequent the cock-pit, it is not to be inferred that they are wholly averse to the species of amusement practised there. On the contrary, in the back corridors of the houses,—and in none more frequently than in those of the padres,—a dozen fine cocks may almost always be found, or at all events heard, if not seen. Quiet little parties are got up of afternoons, cocks fought, and not unfrequently, on such occasions, if report speaks true, golden ounces find themselves suddenly transferred from one “bolsa” to another.

Gaming is a passion amongst the people of all Spanish America. But in Nicaragua it is conducted with less publicity and perhaps to a less extent than in most of the Spanish States. Nevertheless, I heard of instances during my residence in the country, in which thousands of dollars had changed hands in a single evening. The game is, I believe, universally, the well-known “monte.” There are several billiard-rooms in Leon, which seemed to be always full; but they were not very elegant nor even clean. And in the Calle Real there was a licensed gaming-house, “Casa de Juego,” the only one, I believe, in the city. It was crowded every night by the lower classes of the population. The gambling, as might be inferred from the character of its frequenters, was of a petty kind,—of the “dirty rial” order of our friend of the “patio de los gallos.”

Central America commenced its Republican career with very sweeping reforms, taking the United States for its model. Amongst the earliest acts of its government was the prohibition of bull-fighting. The old taste for that amusement has not, however, died out, but has assumed a somewhat different form. It was a festival week in the barrio of the Calvario,—what festival I do not remember, for there was no end to the fiestas and saint’s days,—and we were told that it was to end with “uno juego de los toros,” or bull baiting, (as near as I could understand it,) in the plaza of the church of that district. In fact the cura waited upon us in person, and invited us to attend. We went in the afternoon, and found a high, strong fence built around the square, with a supplementary enclosure outside, leading into the larger one by a narrow passage closed with heavy bars. The roof and towers of the church were covered with people, mostly women, and amongst them was a band of music. All around the square, and clinging to the fence was a swarm of naked muchachos, and outside of these a great number of horsemen, who, seated on their steeds, could distinctly witness the whole performance. Amongst these we took up our position, the crowd giving us the most commanding place, while an officious alcalde whipped the boys off the fence in front, so as to allow an uninterrupted view. The music kept up a great noise, but the crowd had waited a long time, and were impatient, and assuming the universal prerogatives of crowds, cried out to the musicos “to stop their noise,” and to the managers “to bring in the bulls.” Directly the bars of the smaller enclosure were raised, and a horseman dashed in with a lasso attached to his saddle, dragging after him a large black bull, by the horns. He drove at full gallop around the square, and then adroitly pulled the bull, which was now furious, to a stout post in the centre, where by a few dexterous evolutions he fastened him securely, with his head motionless against the post. Three or four men now approached, and cautiously, and with much difficulty, fastened an “albardo” or common saddle of the country on the back of the bull, securing it firmly by bands around the body of the animal. Fireworks were then fastened to its horns and tail, and an invitation extended to whoever might choose á manejar el toro. Two or three stalwart fellows, ambitious of distinction, volunteered, one of whom was chosen. He mounted very adroitly, and securing himself in his seat, the fireworks were lighted, and the rope cut. The bull bounded away amidst the explosion of bombas, the beating of drums, and the shouts of the multitude, foaming with rage, making awkward but prodigious leaps, and driving at every object which came in view. There were three or four horsemen in the ring with staves having a little red flag at one end, and a sharp spike at the other. These they alternately dashed before the eyes of the bull, or drove into his flanks. When the fireworks commenced to explode, the toro no longer made at any particular object, but dashed blindly from side to side, throwing the rider from his seat into the dust, where, for a moment, I thought he would be trampled to death, but he scrambled up and made a rapid retreat, evidently more frightened than hurt, over the barricade, amidst the jeers of the crowd, who would have been better satisfied if he had come off with a broken limb or two, or had been killed outright. The exertion was too much for the bull himself, and after chasing the horsemen around for awhile, he marched off, with his tongue hanging from his mouth, and covered with foam, into a corner of the enclosure. There was no more sport to be got out of him, and the crowd vociferated “take him away! take him away!” So one of the horsemen threw a lasso over his horns and dragged him out.

Another bull was then introduced, and the same process repeated. But this time the rider kept his seat to the end, and for his skill or good luck, got a plentiful supply of vivas from the boys, and of waving of scarfs from the women. It is impossible to describe the excitement of the multitude during the active parts of the exhibition; some stamped and leaped about, and all shouted at the top of their lungs. When the bull lacked spirit, they cried “away with the old cow! take away the heifer!” and stoned him from the enclosure. I soon got enough of the exhibition, and would have gone off, but the cura prevailed on me to stay for the final act, which he said would be “muy glorioso,” very glorious. Four bulls were then let loose together, but this time the officer in command of the file of soldiers which was present, permitted no riders. The precaution was a wise one, for only a few months before two men had been killed by way of a “grand finale.” The bulls, maddened by the noise and fireworks flashing in their eyes and whizzing in their ears, attacked each other with the greatest fury, and one was dragged out dead from the encounter. His flesh was claimed for the poor of the barrio, and according to usage he was surrendered to them. This kind of amusement I found was a favorite one throughout the State.

I subsequently witnessed an exhibition of a different kind, in the same place. It was announced as “Una Sagrada Funcion,” sometimes called “Sainete,” a solemnity or mystery. It fell on a clear moonlight night, and was one of the most singular spectacles which can be imagined. A kind of stage was erected upon one side of the plaza, raised some six feet from the ground, with a place behind, concealed by variously colored cloths, for the participants. In front was a framework of wood, supporting a great number of flaring tallow candles. When we reached the plaza it was crowded with spectators. Many had brought their chairs with them, and were seated in a semi-circle, in front of the stage, but most were standing in groups and engaged in earnest conversation. All the gallants were out, and nearly all carried long naked Toledos under their arms,—a common practice on the occasion of night gatherings. The law, however, forbids pistols, as well as swords or knives under a certain length. It was a famous opportunity for all kinds of intrigue, and I soon began to suspect that there would be more love-making than anything else during the “funcion.” But what I saw and heard bearing upon this point, is neither here nor there. Enough for me to say, I got a comfortable seat in the midst of a bevy of the fairest señoritas, and enjoyed the “funcion” as much as the best of them.

In front of the stage was a kind of orchestra, made up of an infinitude of fiddles and cracked clarionets, which discoursed most melancholy music, for half an hour after we came upon the ground. At the end of that time, it was announced that Señor Z., a young man who wrote poetry and wore his hair long, after the manner of bardlings the world over, would recite an appropriate poem. The Señor came forward, bowed low, and after telling us what he proposed to say in plain prose, commenced his poem. It related to Christ, dealt largely in superlatives, and complimented our Saviour much after the manner a love-sick youth might be supposed to address his mistress. The only redeeming point was the manner, and the clear, distinct enunciation with which it was given. It was listened to with attention, and vehemently applauded at its close. While the speaker was in the midst of his heroics, and the entire assemblage silent, I heard a heavy regular tramp, and turning, saw a detachment of troops, marching slowly through the crowd, their arms glancing in the moonlight. They defiled into the shade, close to the wall of the church, and at the word of command, their muskets came down with a startling clang upon the pavement. There they stood, like bronze statues during the whole evening. This incident will illustrate the condition of the country better than an essay.

After the poem, the music struck up again, and we were treated to a lugubrious song by two men and three women, but I could not make out what it was about. Vocal music is certainly at a low ebb in Nicaragua; nasal music, however, is flourishing. Fortunately the people make no pretensions to musical accomplishments, and thus criticism is disarmed.

A kind of drama, in two acts, borrowed from the Bible, followed the vocal entertainments, in which a shallow, rattling character or clown was introduced, with other comic accessories. This was by far the best part; the clown was a rare fellow, and acquitted himself well; but the serious part was very serious. The characters talked in a kind of monotonous recitative, like automatons, and without a particle of action. An hour’s endurance of this was enough for a Christian, and throwing some silver in the box of a man who went round for the purpose of making a collection for the benefit of the church, I left, in company with the señoritas, who inquired if similar “funcions” were common in the United States? I told them yes, but that our padres consigned all those who frequented them to the demonio, whereupon the señoritas opened their big, black eyes, and ejaculated “Mira!” do tell!

But all these “funcions” paled before an exhibition by “Una Compañia Española de Funámbulos,” under the direction of Sr. D. Pedro Serrate, which came to Leon shortly after our arrival. It made a great sensation amongst the people, whose curiosity was raised to the highest degree by flaming handbills, reciting the wonderful feats to be performed by “la hermosissima Jovena Catalina,” “by thethe most beautiful young Kitty,” and the equally astonishing extravagances of the “eccentric clown Simon,” all of which “the enlightened and dignified public of Leon” (thus ran the invitation) were solicited to felicitate themselves by witnessing,—admittance two rials, niños (little ones) one rial, and niñitos (very little ones) a medio only. The following Sunday, at three o’clock, was the time fixed for the performance. We were all specially invited to attend by Señor Serrate in person, and of course acceptedaccepted the invitation. Meantime the excitement became universal; it was as good as a revolution, and not half as dangerous. As the time approached, men marched through the streets, beating the rappel at the corners, which was the signal for gathering. The next thing to be seen was a swarm of servants, carrying chairs for their masters and mistresses; and then came the masters and mistresses themselves, in gala dress. I had not yet seen such an exhibition of satin slippers! We fell into the movement, and duly brought up at the house where the “FunámbulosFunámbulos” or rope-dancers, had established themselves. It belonged to one of the most respectable citizens of Leon, who had patriotically permitted it to be used for this interesting occasion. Soldiers were stationed at the door to keep out the rabble, which blockaded the street, and devised all sorts of ingenious methods to get a glimpse of the mysteries within. Here the wife of Señor Serrate received the rials with a courtesy and “mil gracias” for each. The building had a large square court, shaded by high trees, and surrounded by a broad corridor, raised a foot or two above the ground. Upon one side of the courtyard was erected a temporary, carpeted stage, which extended out into the area. Behind this was a gaudily painted curtain, concealing the penetralia within which the performers were to retire after their respective efforts. Altogether it was not a bad substitute for a theatre. The corridor corresponded to the dress circle, the courtyard to the pit, and the roof to the gallery. But I am at a loss where to class the occupants of the trees! The place was already crowded when we arrived; the Chief of the State, the General, in fact all the principal inhabitants, comprising the beautybeauty and fashion of Leon, and full two-thirds of all the padres, were present. All seemed at their ease, and, including thethe ladies, smoked cigaritos. A seat was cleared for me by the side of the General, and the rest of our party took up their positions near by. The orchestra played with terrible energy, and some hens, perched amongst a lot of boys, in the trees, frightened at this unusual scene, cackled with equal vigor. The ground within the court was covered with muchachos, and nurses with children, who were wrought up to an alarming state of impatience, and only kept within the bounds of propriety by the canes of the vigilant alcaldes.

After an interval, a messenger approached the Director, and inquired if it was his pleasure the performance should begin; to which an affirmative response was given. The manager of the “FunámbulosFunámbulos” then came forward and announced the “hermosissima Jovena Catalina,” who would exhibit her dexterity on the tight rope. The next moment the Jovena advanced, and was, as the newspapers say, “rapturously received.” She was dressed quite after the fashion of similar performers at home, in skirts equally brief, and seemed to me quite as dexterous. But she had monstrous ankles, and a foot none of the smallest, and was unmercifully criticised, particularly by the female spectators. “Mira!” exclaimed a belle by my side, who lifted her tiny hands in astonishment, “Valgame Dios! es una pateza Inglesa!” “See! Good Heavens! it is an English paw!” I glanced cautiously down at the little slippered feet at my side—they were really very small. My fair friend saw the movement, but nothing abashed, thrust them out the further, and rogueishly inquired, “How do you like them?” I professed to be looking for a fallen cigarito, but the dodge wouldn’t answer. The Jovena, in a country where hardly any one who has his peculiarity escapes a nick-name, went afterwards by the unpoetical designation of “Tobillos gruesos”—“Big ankles!”

The Jovena had a sister, who was beautiful, and while she remained in the city, the reigning toast of the young officers and of the gallants generally. She however did not possess the skill of “Tobillos gruesos,” but danced passably, and was very well in pantomime. The “eccentric clown, Simon,” seemed to be the most popular feature of the exhibition; and although he was not always over-delicate, seldom failed to “bring down the house” by his hits. I was not long in discovering that the entire people had a keen appreciation of drollery, and what would perhaps be called “serious joking;” and have often witnessed impromptu scenes amongst the mozos by the roadside, or in the little villages, which were irresistibly comic, and saving time and place, might have been the originals from which Cervantes drew his immortal pictures.

After the performances on the rope, we had tumbling, in which two smart little boys, sons of the “director” of the Funambules, the clown, and a woman took part. But the Leonesas were shocked that one of the “bello sexo” should descend to that, and expressed their disapprobation in such a manner, that she never made her appearance again in the character of a “volteadora.” Then came a pantomime, in which a fussy, gouty Englishman, travelling in Spain, and ignorant of the language, was the principal character. His mishaps created great merriment, and the raggedest boy in the patio seemed glad to have an opportunity of laughing at John Bull; who, as I have before said, is nowhere in the world more cordially hated than in Nicaragua.

It was quite sundown when Señor Serrate came forward and thanked his auditors for the honor of their attendance; and then the Jovena Catalina invited them all, in the choicest Castilian, to come again on the Sunday following. The “Funambulos,” I may add, had a brilliant and profitable season of a month; and when they left, received a testimonial from the citizens, who “thought it worthy of remark, that in this exhibition the public had not, as on other occasions, been driven to the hard necessity of listening to indecent dialogues, to the prejudice of morals and good taste, or of abstaining from visiting the exhibition.” The “Correo del Istmo” also complimented them as having “performed with skill and excellence,” and with these recommendations they departed on a tour of the State.

I have said, at the commencement of this chapter, that there were no stated amusements in Leon; perhaps, however, the various fiestas and saints’ days should come under that denomination. At any rate they were celebrated in anything but a serious manner; they were general holidays, in which everybody dressed in his best, and the more bombas fired and bells rung, the more “alegre” the occasion, and the greater the honor to the saints. As a consequence, being situated in the vicinity of the principal churches, we were treated to a “Fourth of July” as often as twice a week. Sometimes lines of bombas were arranged, not only around the churches, but on their roofs, and over their towers, with large ones at intervals, which, when they exploded, made a noise like a cannon. These were set off almost invariably in the daytime, and produced a deafening sound, like the rolling discharge of musketry under a cannonade, for nearly half an hour, creating a dense smoke, and filling the air with sulphurous odors. The bells were rung the while, and everybody seemed delighted, and none more so than the muchachos, who, like the gamins de Paris, swarmed everywhere, and were the foremost in all public demonstrations.

The fiesta of St. Andrew was celebrated with some novel features, and particularly commended itself to the muchachos. It was signalized by “un baile de los demonios,” a dance of the devils. The devils were dressed in the most fantastic manner, wore masks, and sported barbed tails. One shrouded in black displayed a grinning death’s head beneath his half-parted veil, and kept time to the music with a pair of veritable thigh bones. The dance, I should think, had been borrowed from the Indians; the music certainly was. It was almost unearthly, such as Cortez describes on the night of his retreat from Mexico, “which carried terror to the very souls of the Christians.” It is impossible to describe the strange instruments. One consisted of a large calabash, over which was stretched the skin of some animal; this, when pressed in, recoiled with a dull, sullen noise, like the suppressed bellow of a wild beast, and the wail of some of the long reeds was like that of a man in the agonies of a violent death. The devils went whisking through the principal streets, followed by a gaping crowd, and entered all the principal houses, where, after a dance in the courtyard, they expected either to receive a rial or two, or to be treated to a dram of agua ardiente. They favored me with an extra display of their demoniacal abilities,—but were high-spirited devils, and declined to receive money from a stranger.

Another class of dancers, dressed in a profusion of tinsel, but not aspiring to the distinction of devils, parade the streets on certain saints’ days, visiting all the houses where the heads of the family bear the name of the saint, where they expect a gratuity or a treat, in return for an exhibition of their skill. As I soon lost all track of the saints, I do not remember which were supposed to be propitious to this kind of diversion.

All-Saints’ day was distinguished by a grand procession of all the saints, not excepting the little ebony San Benito, who, after airing themselves through the principal streets, visited the various churches in succession, including the Cathedral of Subtiaba, where there were some very curious and complicated ceremonies. The afternoon of this day was celebrated as a kind of carnival amongst the Indians of that municipality. It is their prerogative, on that occasion, to pelt all visitors with oranges, and to form rings of dancers around them, from which exit can only be procured by the payment of a certain sum to the church. Almost every one in the city went down, including the officers of State, whose position gave them no immunity,—on the contrary, they got more than their just share of the pelting. But as the visitors are usually mounted, a rapid retreat is always made, when the storm of the golden missiles grows too severe. I made it a point of duty to see everything, and accordingly rode to Subtiaba just before sunset, where the first object I saw was a venerable Doctor of Medicine, bareheaded, spurring at full speed, and dodging from side to side under a shower of oranges discharged upon him from an ambuscade. For it is considered a capital joke with the muchachos, to lie in wait under a ruin, or amongst the bushes, and let off a volley upon the unsuspecting horseman. When I entered the plaza it was occupied by groups of people, moving from side to side, shouting and laughing, in a furor of excitement and frolic, while the air was full of missiles. A few were discharged at me, but as soon as I was recognized, I was exempted from the usual ordeal. Suddenly I saw a movement in the direction of the cabildo, and the next moment was saluted with “Vivan los Estados Unidos!” “Vivan los amigos de Nicaragua!” These were given with the greatest enthusiasm.^[20]

Posts were planted around the plaza, to which a double line of bombas was attached. These were to be let off (for a wonder) after dark, and my friend Simon Roque was urgent that I should stay to witness the explosion, and even offered to anticipate the hour fixed for lighting them; but I had had enough of bombas for a lifetime, and rode home in the twilight. The streets were full of life, and the band stationed upon the steps of the grand Cathedral played the national anthem, while the soldiers grouped around the various “cuartels” joined in the chorus. For once, thanks to the darkness, I escaped the eternal presentation of arms and beat of drum, with which I was always received in the plaza, and which induced me to avoid entering it, except in cases of necessity. I sat on my horse for a quarter of an hour, listening to the music and the merriment, and speculated whether, after all, spite of unstable governments, and destitute of all those accessories which, according to our utilitarian ideas, are necessary to the popular welfare,—whether the people of Leon were not on the whole happier and more contented than those of any city of equal size in our own country? Here were no crowded workshops, where youth and age toil on, on, during the long day and by the pale gas light, amidst foul vapors, or in a corrupted atmosphere, that trade may thrive, and arrogant commerce strut in the Exchange! No thundering machines to disturb the calm of evening, to drown the murmurs of the night winds and the gentle melody of the falling dews, with their hoarse, unearthly clangor!