Nicaragua

RETURN TO GRANADA—A BALL IN HONOR OF “EL MINISTRO”—THE FUNAMBULOS—DEPARTURE FOR RIVAS OR NICARAGUA—HILLS OF SCORIÆ—THE INSANE GIRL AND THE BROWN SAMARITAN—A WAY-SIDE IDOL—MOUNTAIN LAKES AND STRANGE BIRDS—A SUDDEN STORM—TAKE REFUGE AMONG THE “VAQUEROS”—INHOSPITABLE RECEPTION—NIGHT RIDE; DARKNESS AND STORM—FRIENDLY INDIANS—INDIAN PUEBLO OF NANDYME—THE HACIENDA OF JESUS MARIA—AN ASTONISHED MAYORDOMO—HOW TO GET A SUPPER—JICORALES—OCHOMOGO—RIO GIL GONZALES—THE “OBRAJE”—RIVAS AND ITS DEPENDENCIES—SEÑORSEÑOR HURTADO—HIS CACAO PLANTATION—THE CITY—EFFECT OF EARTHQUAKES AND OF SHOT—ATTACK OF SOMOZA—ANOTHER AMERICAN—HIS ATTEMPT TO CULTIVATE COTTON ON THE ISLAND OF OMETEPEC—MURDER OF HIS WIFE—FAILURE OF HIS ENTERPRISE—A WORD ABOUT COTTON POLICY—THE ANTIQUITIES OF OMETEPEC—ABORIGINAL BURIAL PLACES—FUNERAL VASES—RELICS OF METAL—GOLDEN IDOLS—A COPPER MASK—ANTIQUE POTTERY—A FROG IN VERD ANTIQUE—SICKNESS OF MY COMPANIONS—THE PUEBLO OF SAN JORGE—SHORE OF THE LAKE—FEATS OF HORSEMANSHIP—LANCE PRACTICE—VISIT POTOSI—ANOTHER REMARKABLE RELIC OF ABORIGINAL SUPERSTITION—THE VALLEY OF BRITA—AN INDIGO ESTATE—CULTIVATION OF INDIGO—VILLAGE OF BRITA—A DECAYING FAMILY, AND A DECAYED ESTATE—AN ANCIENT VASE—OBSERVATIONS ON THE PROPOSED CANAL—RETURN ALONE TO GRANADA—DESPATCHES—A FORCED MARCH TO LEON.

We spent three days on the island, going early to the monuments, and coming late. The weather was delightful; and each night, when we returned to the boat, it was with an increased attachment to the place. We had now a broad, well-marked path from the shore to the ruins, and the idols were becoming familiar acquaintances. The men had given them names; one they called, “Jorobado,” “the Humpback;” another, “Ojos Grandes,” “Big Eyes.”

At night, the picturesque groups of swarthy, half-naked men preparing their suppers around fires, beneath the trees, in the twilight gloom, or gathered together in busy conversation in the midst of the boat, after we had anchored off for the night,—the changing effects of the sun and moonlight upon the water, and the striking scenery around us,—the silence and primeval wilderness,—all contributed, apart from the strange monuments buried in the forest, to excite thoughts and leave impressions not likely to be effaced. Our stay passed like a dream, and when we departed, it was with a feeling akin to that which we experience in leaving old acquaintances and friends.

We left on the morning of the fourth day. It was Saturday, and I had promised most faithfully to be in Granada to attend a grand ball which was to be given in my honor on Sunday evening. The wind, which had been blowing a constant gale on the lake, during our stay at the island, had partially subsided, and we succeeded, in consequence, in reaching Los Corales about the middle of the afternoon. Here we stopped at a large island, strikingly picturesque where all were picturesque, covered with lemon, orange, and mamey trees, broad plantain walks, and fields of maize and melons, where one of the sailors averred there were other “piedras antiguas.” The owner of the island was away, and the boys and women who were left knew nothing of the idols, except that they had been buried,—where, they could not tell. I asked the mistress if I might carry off some of the fine fruit which loaded down the trees. “Como no?” why not? was the answer—a common reply in Central America, which signifies the fullest assent. The marineros did not take the trouble of asking, but helped themselves ad libitum, as a matter of course. I inquired of Juan, why he did not ask permission to take the fruit, if he desired it; he looked at me in surprise, and made no answer. He would as soon have thought of asking for permission to breathebreathe the air, or use the water around the island.

We had another gorgeous sunset amongst the Corales,—those fairy islets, the memory of which seems to me like that of a beautiful dream, a vision of the “Isles of the Blest,”—and at nine o’clock ran under the lee of the old castle, and landed again on the beach of Granada. Here we found another American, Dr. Clark of Costa Rica, who, wearied of that little state, had come to Nicaragua in order that he might see more of his countrymen, and relieve the monotony of Central American life. We deposited the spoils which we had brought from the island in the house of Monsieur T., a polite and intelligent but very eccentric Frenchman, who lived in a little house on the shore of the lake, and then hastened to our old quarters in the city. The town was in a great uproar; it was the anniversary festival of some pet saint; all the bells were clattering, and the plaza was spluttering with bombas, of which every boy in town had a supply, to be let off on his individual account. They had also “serpientes,” serpents, which, when fired, started off erratically, darting from side to side, amongst people’s legs, and in at the doors and windows, carrying confusion everywhere, particularly amongst the women, who retreated screaming in every direction, to the great entertainment of the spectators, and amidst the shouts of the boys and loafers in the streets.

The ball “came off” in the house of Madame B., a French lady, whose grand sala was one of the largest in the city, and therefore selected for the “obsequio.” I went at nine o’clock, and was received with a flourish of trumpets, by a file of soldiers stationed at the arched portal. The sala was very tastefully ornamented and lighted. It was already full; and not to be behind the Leoneses in their demonstrations of respect for the United States, the assemblage all rose upon my entrance; and the Prefect, who introduced me, would have had a “viva” or two (à la Hone at the Park Theatre, on a certain memorable occasion), had I not besought him “por el amor de Dios” to refrain. The masculine portion of the assemblage was dressed in what was meant to be full European costume, but the styles of coats and cravats ran through every mode of the last ten years. The females made a better appearance, but none of them displayed more style in respect of dress, than “Tobillos Gruesos,” and the other female attachés of Señor Serrate’s Company of Funambulos, who were all present, including the old lady who swallowed the sword, the girl who had turned somersets, and the “eccentric clown Simon.” The elite of Granada had doubtless heard how the fashionables of our cities are accustomed to receive squalling women, pirouetting Cyprians, and hirsute monsters of the masculine gender, remarkable for soiled linen, and redolent of gin, which swarm from Europe like locusts upon our shores, and were also anxious to evince their appreciation of art, in their attentions to “artistes.” I flatter myself that the “Jovena Catalina” and “El Ministro” were the bright particular stars of the evening; I did the gravity, and she the dancing.^[29]

At eleven o’clock supper was announced in the “comedor,” or dining room, which was spread more after the fashion of home than anything I had seen since leaving the United States. The champagne, however, seemed most popular, and the applause with which favorite dances were received, after our return to the ball room, it is barely possible had some connection with this circumstance. The enthusiasm was at its height, when “Tobillos Gruesos” and her sister danced “El Bolero,” and I availed myself of the opportunity to leave, which I did unobserved. It was three o’clock when the ball broke up, at which time I was tortured out of my slumbers by the fearful wailing of half a dozen violins, played by unsteady hands, and by courtesy called a serenade.

On the afternoon of the day following the ball, in company with Dr. Clark, I set out for the Department Meridional, the capital of which is the city of Rivas or Nicaragua. It will be remembered that this was the seat of Somoza’s insurrection. I was desirous of visiting it, not less because it was reported to be one of the richest and most fertile portions of the State, than because here the attention of the world had been for centuries directed, as the most feasible point where the lake could be connected with the Pacific, and the grand project of water communication between the two great oceans realized. Here also was the seat of a Mexican colony, in ancient times, where the great cazique, Niquira, had his court; and upon the island of Ometepec, near by, the lineal descendants of these Indians, and many monuments of their labor and skill, still existed.

We proposed to go but eight leagues that afternoon, to the estate of a propietario, to whose kindness we were commended. When we started the sky was clear and serene, and there was every prospect of a fine evening. We accordingly jogged along at our ease. Our path lay to the right of the Volcano of Momobacho, over fields of volcanic breccia, and amongst the high, conical hills of scoriæ, bare of trees, but covered with grass, which form so striking features in the scenery back of Granada. Around these we found large patches of cleared land, now overgrown with rank weeds, which were anciently indigo and maize estates, but had been abandoned in consequence of the internal commotions of the country. Beyond these, at about three leagues from Granada, we came to a steep hill, where the narrow road, shut in by high banks, was nothing more than a thick bed of mire, mixed with large, loose stones, amongst which our horses floundered fearfully. Midway to the summit, where the hill forms a kind of shelf, is a copious spring, with a musical Indian name, that has escaped my memory. Here were a number of the people of the Indian pueblo of Diriomo, returning with the proceeds of their marketing from Granada. They were listening with great attention to a white woman, evidently insane, whose slight form, delicate hands, and pale face, half covered with her long, beautiful hair, contrasted strongly with their swarthy lineaments and massive limbs. She addressed us vehemently but unintelligibly, as we approached. I turned inquiringly to one of the Indians; he touched his finger to his forehead and said, “Pobrecita, es tonta!”—“poor thing, she’s crazy.“ I asked the man if they would leave her there?” Oh no,” he replied, “we must take care of her, pobrecita!” And as we slowly toiled up the hill, I looked back, and saw this rude Indian tenderly leading the poor girl by the hand, as one would lead a child, lifting her carefully over the bad places, and carrying her little bundle on the top of his own heavy load.

Upon one side of the road, just at the summit of the hill, we came upon a figure, something like those which we had discovered at the island of Zapatero. It seemed to have been more delicately carved than any of those, but was now too much injured to enable us to make out its design. It was standing erect, and the bushes around it were all cut away. I afterwards learned that it had been brought to its present position and set up by the Indians of Diriomo, as a boundary mark between their lands and those belonging to another pueblo.

The ground now became undulating; we came frequently where plantain and corn fields, and occasionally snug cane huts, could be discovered at the ends of little vistas, and in shadowy dells. Broad paths also diverged here and there from the main road, to the numerous Indian towns which are situated between the volcano and Masaya. The volcano upon this side is not covered with trees, as towards Granada, and amongst the struggling verdure are broad, black strips of lava, and red ridges of scoriæ and breccia. Upon this side also the walls of the crater have been broken down, and expose a fearfully rugged orifice like an inverted cone, extending more than half way to the base of the mountain. Within this it is said there is now a small lake, and another in a smaller vent, upon one side of the great crater, at the top of the mountain. Around the latter, it is added, there are certain varieties of strange birds, which are not to be found elsewhere in the State,—stories which the naturalist would be more anxious to verify than the antiquarian.

It is a singular fact that, under the lee of this volcano hardly a day in the year passes, except towards the middle of the dry season, without rain. This is due to the condensation of the vapors in the cooler atmosphere at the summit of the volcano, and which the prevailing winds drive over to the south-west. As a consequence, vegetation is very rank here, and the forests are dense and tangled. We got the full benefit of one of these volcanic showers. It came upon us with hardly a moment’s warning. At one instant we were riding in the clear sunlight, and the next were enveloped in clouds, and drenched with rain, which soon made the roads so slippery that we could not proceed faster than a walk. We rode on for half an hour, when the rain relaxed, and the clouds lifted a little, but only to reveal the cheerless prospect of a wet and stormy night. The change of temperature in this short interval was also considerable, and I felt chilled and uncomfortable. We held a council, and determined to take up our quarters at the first house or hut we might reach. We soon discovered the buildings of a cattle estate to the left of the “camino real,” and rode up to them. There were two mud houses, and an immense shed, roofed with tiles. Here we found a dozen vaqueros, and we made the usual inquiry, if we could “make their house a posada,” and, for the second time in the country, were met with incivility. The women of one of the houses had the calentura, and there was no room in the other. There was the shed, they added; we might go there. I rode up to it and glanced under. The sides were all open, and there were a hundred or two cows and calves beneath, which had trampled the entire floor into a sickening mass of black mire. We felt indignant, and after intimating to the black vagabonds who stood scowling at us, that they were “hombres sin verguenza,” men without shame, which in Nicaragua is the most opprobious thing that can be said, we rode off in great wrath. Ben, who distrusted the rascals, had employed the time in recapping his pistols by way of showing them that he should be prepared to meet their attentions, should they take into their heads to favor us with any in the woods. I believe he privately told the spokesman, who seemed surliest of all, that he should delight to have a crack at him.

It now came on to rain again harder than before, and night settled around us, black and cheerless. The ground was so slippery that the horses, even when walking, could hardly keep their feet. None except the Dr. had ever been over the road, and in the darkness he was not certain that we were pursuing the right path. We rode on, nevertheless, gloomily enough, for an hour or two, when we discovered a light at a little distance from the road, in what appeared to be a cleared field. We hastened to it, and found a little collection of Indian huts, in which the inmates hospitably, invited us to enter. Their quarters were, however, far from inviting, and as we were now wet through, and it was only two leagues further to the hacienda where we had proposed to stop, we concluded it was as well to suffer for a “horse as for a colt,” and, engaging one of the men to guide us, we pushed on. He took us by the best beaten road, through the large Indian town of Nandyme, of which we could see nothing except long rows of lights shining from the open doorways. We would have stopped with the cura, but he had gone to Leon, and so we kept to our original purpose. Beyond Nandyme the ground was clayey, and our horses seemed every moment on the verge of falling. It was a painful ride, and M., who had a fever coming on, was comically nervous, and finally dismounted and swore he wouldn’t ride a foot further. We however got him on his horse once more, and proceeded. We were an hour and a half in going a single league. Finally we saw the light of Jesus Maria’s house; our poor horses at once took courage, and carried us to his door at a round pace. A dozen mozos were lounging in the corridor, whom we told to take care of our horses, and then inquired for the proprietor. But he did not reside here now; he had gone off with his family, and the establishment was in the hands of his mayordomo. We requested the men to call this person, but they declined, because he was at his prayers, and not to be disturbed. This was a small consideration with us; we pushed open the door and entered the sala. At one end of the room, suspended above an elevated shelf, was a picture of the Virgin, and on the shelf itself two miserable tallow candles, just enabling the picture to be seen. In front, in the middle of the room, was a long bench, and kneeling at this, with their faces directed to the picture, were the mayordomo and his family. They did not look round when we entered, but continued their devotions, which consisted in the alternate recitation of a prayer in rhyme, uttered in a rapid, monotonous voice. At the end of each prayer all joined in a kind of refrain, or chorus, and dropped a bead on their rosaries. We took off our hats, and stood still, waiting for the end. Happily the prayers were short; they had already been some time at them, and we had not long to wait. We had anticipated a cordial welcome, and this had kept up our spirits through our uncomfortable ride. But the mayordomo did not seem to be at all delighted; on the contrary, he was positively cool, and his sposa, after eying us askance for a moment, tossed herself out of the room, and slammed the door after her. This conduct determined our course, and resolving to carry things with a high hand, we took unceremonious possession. I ordered Ben to bring in our saddles and place them in the sala, and to spread out the wet saddle-cloths on the best chairs he could find, while we tumbled into the hammocks, and bade the mayordomo authoritatively to bring us some chocolate. His eyes were big with astonishment, and he mechanically gave the corresponding order. The chocolate was brought and put on the table. We took our seats, but the Dr. was belligerent, and bringing his fist down on the “mesa,” turned to the mayordomo and ejaculated fiercely, “pan! su perro!”—“bread! you dog!” Bread came in a twinkling. “Bien! carne!”—“Good! meat!” and the meat came. I laughed outright; even M., who had been as grave and silent as an owl, could not resist a smile, and Ben was ecstatic.

After supper was over, we began to look out for beds. The Dr. and M. concluded to take the two hammocks, Ben the table, and then the Dr., turning to the mayordomo, told him he wanted the best bed in the house for me. The surly host opened a door leading into a little, dirty room, resembling a dog kennel, in which was a naked, hide bed, and said I might have that. The Dr., I believe, meditated an assault on the fellow, but I interfered, and took possession of the den. I was wet and tired, and cared little for the elegance of my accommodations. I slept soundly, with the exception of being once roused by the crowing of a game cock, perched on the head-board of my bed. I took him by the legs, cut the cord by which he was tied, and threw him out of the window. He squalled terribly, and I was strongly tempted to give his neck a twist, but thought better of it.

We were up early in the morning, anxious to get away from this inhospitable place. We made the mayordomo produce his bill in writing, with all the items, disputed half of them, quarrelled with him about a sixpence, and finally went off, assuring him, as we had the vaqueros before, that he was “a man without shame.”

Beyond this place the country was generally flat, and covered with calabash trees, overgrown with parasitic plants, which almost concealed the limbs and verdure of the trees themselves. The places thus covered, as I have already said, are called “jicorales;” and as the trees are usually scattered pretty widely apart, they afford very good pasturage for cattle. Between the various “jicorales” there were swells of land covered with the ordinary forest trees. At the distance of two leagues from our inhospitable quarters of the night, we came to a singular square structure open at the sides, and covered with a tile roof. This we found had been erected by the “arrieros,” or muleteersmuleteers, as a convenient lodging place, in their journeys between Nicaragua and Granada. The neighboring “jicoral,” for most of the year, afforded grass for their animals; and as for themselves, a cup of tiste sufficed. They had only to swing their hammocks between the posts of the shed, light their cigars, and they were “put up,” at a very cheap rate. At ten o’clock we reached the cattle estate of “Ochomogo,” situated upon a broad stream of the same name, and the largest which we had seen in Nicaragua. The place was a wild one, and surrounded by a dense forest of large trees. It had once been an indigo estate, and the vats in which the indigo had been separated still remained, on the slope between the house and the stream. We were very kindly received, and breakfast was prepared for us with the greatest promptitude. The mistress of the house was an old lady of great good nature, who, learning we were from El Norte, asked us many curious questions about our country, and was particularly anxious to know about a “Capitan Esmith” (Smith), an American sea-captain whom she had once seen in San Juan, many year ago, and before its seizure by the English. We told her we did not know the “Capitan,” which surprised her greatly, because Captain Smith was a man very enlightened “muy ilustrado” and a big fellow besides. Poor old lady, she little imagined the extent of “El Norte,” and had no conception of the number of “Capitans Esmith” to be found there. She had two well-dressed and really handsome daughters, who brought us chocolate in the daintiest manner, which quite won our hearts by reason of its contrast to that of the mayordomo near Nandyme. The Dr. having prescribed for a sick daughter-in-law, the mistress at Ochomogo declined any payment for our breakfast,—not wholly on account of the prescription probably, for I have no doubt she meant it when she said, “God forbid that I should take money of the Americans! are they not paisanos, countrymen?”

We forded the Rio Ochomogo, but had not proceeded far on our way before it commenced raining again, speedily making the roads so slippery that we could not advance faster thanthan a walk. This was vexatious, but not to be avoided; so we protected ourselves as we best could under our blankets and ponchos, and received the peltings without complaint. Three hours’ ride in a forest where the trees were larger than any I had yet seen, brought us to an open space, resembling a back-woods clearing in our own country. Upon a knoll in the midst stood the house belonging to the cattle estate of the family of Chomorro of Granada, some of the younger members of which were there on a visit. They pressed us to stop until the next day, but the house was small and already crowded, and we were loth to incommode the inmates. Besides, M.’s fever was increasing, and I was anxious to get him to some comfortable place, where he could receive proper attentions, while he was yet able to travel. We had a long and dreary ride, until the middle of the afternoon, relieved only by the incident of Ben killing a boa constrictor with his sword, when we reached another large and fine stream called Gil Gonzalez, after the discoverer of the country. It is, I believe, the only natural feature of Nicaragua which commemorates the name of any of its conquerors. Beyond the Rio Gil Gonzalez, we came to open, cultivated fields, “huertas” or gardens, separated by hedge rows, along which were planted papaya trees, now loaded with golden fruit. As we advanced, the evidences of industry and thrift became more and more abundant, and passing for a league through broad and luxuriant fields, we at last came to the Indian pueblo of Obraje, the place where Somoza had received his first check by the troops of the government. It was a large, straggling town, a town of gardens, and, judging from the accounts of the chroniclers, built very much after the plan of the aboriginal towns, before the Conquest. The adobe buildings around the plaza were scarred by shot; but everything looked so peaceful now that I could hardly believe war and bloodshed had ever disturbed its quiet.

The Obraje is one of half a dozen towns, situated within a radius of two leagues around the central city of Rivas or Nicaragua, and which are, to all intents and purposes, parts of it. Within this area, therefore, there is a larger population than in any equal extent of the State. At a distance from the centres of political operations, Rivas and its dependencies have escaped the more obvious evils of the civil commotions to which the country has been subject. Its prosperity has nevertheless been retarded, and its wealth diminished, as the State has declined. Yet, in point of cultivation and general thrift, it still retains its superiority. Of this we had abundant evidences in our ride of a league, from the Obraje to Rivas. The lands were better cleared and worked, and the houses larger and more comfortable than any we had yet seen. To the right was a range of hills, not rocky, volcanic elevations, but smooth, rolling hills, capable of culture to their summits; and between them and the lake intervened a wide plain, two or three leagues broad, with little swells of ground, upon which the houses of the people were usually built. This plain is wonderfully fertile, and suffering less from drought in the dry season, is probably capable of being made more productive than that of Leon; but its greater moisture and comparative lowness render its climate less salubrious. As we rode along, in admiration of the lavish profusion of nature, we, for the first time since we left the San Juan river, saw the toucan and one or two other varieties of new and brilliant birds. They were very tame, and evidently felt at home amongst the cacao groves.

The rain had ceased, and the contrast which this part of our ride bore to that of the morning, exhilarated me to the highest degree, and perhaps caused it to make a deeper impression than it would have done under other circumstances. It was late in the afternoon, when, crossing a little New Englandish stream, the Dr. pointed to a large, fine house, sweetly seated in the edge of a cacao plantation, as that of Señor Hurtado, one of the Senators of the State, and at whose urgent invitation I was now in this part of the Republic. The building was elevated, and a broad corridor ran along its entire front, upon which Señor Hurtado and his family were seated, in luxurious enjoyment of the evening breeze. We were recognized, notwithstanding we were disguised by ponchos and stuccoed with mud, long before we reached the house, and the master came down the road to welcome us. Need I add that we were received with unbounded hospitality, and had every want anticipated, and every wish attended to, during our stay?

Señor Hurtado is one of the largest proprietors in the Department, and, with his wife and family, might easily be taken for Americans. They were now living in what may be called the suburbs of the town; their city residence having been destroyed, together with a large amount of property, by Somoza, during his temporary ascendancy. Their present dwelling had also been visited, and the marks of machetas and bullets were visible on the doors and shutters. It had, however, escaped pillage, in consequence of the popularity of its owner amongst all classes of the people of the Department. Connected with the establishment is a large and exceedingly well-kept cacao plantation. Through the middle runs the small stream I have mentioned, crossed by unique little bridges, and here and there forming miniature lakes. The mazy walks were wide and clean, and so effectually roofed in by the broad tops of the cacao-madre, that one might almost imagine himself within the spacious aisles of some grand natural temple.

The morning following, we were waited upon by Don Fruto Chamorro, Prefect of the Department, and the officers of the garrison. Señor Hurtado gave me a fine horse, to relieve my wearied one, and I accompanied them to the town. I was much disappointed in its appearance. It looked dilapidated, having suffered much from earthquakes, to which it is proverbially subject. The walls of almost every building were split or thrown from the perpendicular from this cause, and the façades of two or three little churches, which we passed, were rent from top to bottom, and seemed just ready ready to tumble down. As we approached the grand plaza or centre of the town, we began to see the results of the recent troubles. The doors and windows of the buildings were full of bullet-holes, and the walls had been literally scarified by shot. There must have been a prodigious amount of random firing, first and last. A number of buildings in the vicinity of the plaza had been burnt, or partially torn down, and amongst them were the ruins of the residence of our host, which had been distinguished for its size and superior elegance. Don Fruto, (who, by the way, had in person captured the robber chieftain,) explained to me how the latter succeeded in gaining control of the place, and gave me a little insight into the mode of fighting practised in Central America. To get possession of the principal plaza, and to hold it, is esteemed the primary object of every assault. The garrison always barricades itself there, leaving the rest of the town unprotected; and in this vicinity the fighting almost invariably takes place. Accordingly, at the outbreak of the insurrection, the little garrison, joined by the principal citizens, fortified themselves in the plaza, and waited for Somoza to come on. Of course he took his time, and when quite ready, with his usual daring, attempted to carry the plaza by a coup de main. He could not, however, bring his men to charge the barricades in face of the veterans, whose shot swept the streets like hail. He nevertheless persisted in the attempt, but with uniform bad success. Finally he was compelled to make his advances in the usual manner. He commenced cutting through the houses, upon two sides at the same time, advancing from one to the other as fast as the walls could be broken through. The garrison, detecting the movement, advanced in the same way to meet him, instead of waiting to be overwhelmed by numbers in the plaza. The “sappers and miners,” if they can be so called, encountered each other in the interiors of the abandoned houses, and in their courtyards; and at the outset, in the bloody hand-to-hand contests which ensued, the superior discipline of the little garrison prevailed. Somoza, at this critical moment, set fire to the buildings with his own hands, and leaving a portion of his men in the houses, made a simultaneous assault upon all the barricades. The garrison, having so many points to defend, enveloped in flame and smoke, and already much reduced, was overwhelmed by numbers. In the excitement of the moment, horrible excesses were committed, and neither age nor sex was spared. To these excesses, which shocked and alarmed the whole State, the speedy downfall of Somoza and his faction is, in great part, to be ascribed.

Upon one side of the plaza, which was now fitted up for “un Juego de los Toros,” or a bull-baiting, were the foundation walls and part of the superstructure of a large stone church. It had been planned on a grand scale, and was commenced and carried to its present elevation many years ago; but a severe earthquake occurring, which cracked and otherwise injured the unfinished walls, its construction was suspended, and has never been resumed. The interior is, I believe, now used as a burial place; and a little, low, but compact building at its side is the parochial church. But even this has suffered from the earthquakes. In 1844 a series of shocks occurred, extending through three days. The people abandoned their dwellings, and lived in the open air. The shocks were so severe, that it was almost impossible to stand erect, or even to stand at all, without clinging to trees or other fixed objects for support. On the isthmus, below Nicaragua, and in the direction of the volcano of Orosi, which on this occasion was unusually active, the earth opened in various places, and many of the more fearful results of these convulsions were witnessed by the affrighted inhabitants.

From the plaza, the view of the volcanoes of Ometepec and Madeira, standing in the lake, is exceedingly fine. The regularity of the cone of the former seems more striking than when it is viewed from the opposite direction. I have no question that it approaches nearer the perfect cone in shape, than any other mountain on the continent, not to say in the world.

Upon returning to Señor Hurtado’s, we found Mr. Woeniger, a gentlemen of German descent, but a citizen of the United States, who had resided for twelve or fourteen years in the country. He was intelligent and communicative, and gave me a great deal of information about this section of the State, but particularly concerning the island of Ometepec, on which he had resided for a number of years. He had early cleared an estate there, and commenced the cultivation of cotton, relying upon Indian labor. Things went on very well for some time, and he had imported machinery for cleansing the cotton and manufacturing it, when the Indians, perhaps excited by envious or evil-minded persons, grew idle and unmanageable. And one day, during his absence, a drunken party of them entered his house, violated and murdered his wife, (daughter of a professor in one of the colleges of Pennsylvania,) and then set fire to the building. Some of the miscreants were taken, identified, and shot. Mr. W., notwithstanding this terrible blow, persevered in his enterprise, but with bad success, and was himself finally attacked by a number of his own laborers. He killed one or two, and escaped, abandoning his property on the island, and purchasing a cacao estate on the main-land, at a little place, in the vicinity of Rivas, called Potosí, where he now resided. He represented a large part of the island as being fertile, and well adapted to the cultivation of cotton, but not more so than almost any other portion of the republic. With a proper organization, and the ability of compelling the natives to comply with their contracts, he believed Nicaragua could compete with any portion of the world in the production of this staple, and supply a better article at less price in the markets of England, than the United States itself. This opinion I found was entertained by many other intelligent foreigners, resident in the country, and fully acquainted with the subject. It is this fact, amongst other things, and in connection with the unsuccessful efforts of England to grow cotton in her colonies, in Jamaica, the Antilles, in Guiana, and India, that gives especial significance to English pretensions on the Mosquito shore, which is probably the finest cotton growing country of the world. It is a fact also, which should not be lost sight of by the Southern States of our Confederacy, when we shall be called upon to take a national stand, on the questions which have been raised by the unscrupulous policy of Great Britain in Central and South America.

Mr. Woeniger gave me some information concerning the monuments of aboriginal art found on the island. In the parts best known there had formerly been many idols resembling those found at Zapatero, but they had either been broken up or buried. A group was said to exist at a secluded place, near the foot of the volcano of Madeira, but he had never seen them. The ancient cemeteries are the most remarkable remains of the aborigines. They generally occur upon some dry, elevated place, and are distinguished by an enclosure of flat, rough stones, set in the ground, and projecting a few inches above the surface. Within the areas thus indicated are found, upon examination, many vases containing the bones and ashes of the dead, and a great variety of ornaments of stone and metal. Little gold idols, well worked, articles of copper, and terra cotta figures, are also sometimes found. The vases containing the human bones and ashes are always of one shape, as represented in the foregoing cuts. It will be seen at once, that the model is that of the human skull. In some of those in which the unburned bones were placed, after the removal of the flesh, (a common practice among the American Indians,) the skull closed the orifice or mouth. Other articles of pottery, some in the form of animals and of fruits and shells, are also found buried both in the cemeteries and elsewhere. These are sometimes elaborately painted, with brilliant and enduring colors. Various terra cottas, in the form of men and animals, have also been found, of which the one represented in the accompanying engraving may be taken as a type. Amongst the articles of metal obtained on the island, and presented to me by Mr. Woeniger, is a copper head or mask of a tiger, which is not unartistic, and displays no insignificant degree of spirit.

The golden idols, are no doubt identical with those which the chronicler describes as “about a span long,” and of which the great Cazique Niquira gave Gil Gonzales, upon his solicitation, not less than “one thousand.” One had been found just previous to our arrival, which weighed twenty-four ounces, and which had been purchased by a merchant for an equal number of doubloons, and sent as a remittance to Jamaica. I left a standing order with Señor Hurtado to secure the next one which should be found for me, at any cost. But up to this time, I cannot learn that any additional ones have been discovered. Amongst the other curious relics which I obtained there, was a little figure of a frog, carved in a grey stone, resembling verd antique. It is presented of full size in the subjoined engraving. The holes near the fore feet were doubtless designed to receive the string, by which it was probably suspended as an amulet from the neck of its ancient owner. This was found in the Department of Guanacaste, near the Gulf of Nicoya.

I had intended to visit Ometepec; and as, upon our arrival, there seemed to be a prospect that M., after a little repose, would be able to go with us, Señor Hurtado had ordered one of his boats, with a full complement of men, to be in readiness, on the second morning, to take us over. The Prefect had also sent orders to the subordinate officers on the island to render us every service in their power. But in the meantime M. had become much worse, and during the night was almost delirious with fever, requiring the constant attendance of the doctor. I was consequently obliged to relinquish my visit; but, nevertheless, rode down to the lake with the Prefect and a party of the citizens. The distance is upwards of a league to San Jorge, which stands a little back from the lake, upon a dry, sandy swell of ground. It is finely situated, and the country intervening between the two towns is of surpassing beauty and fertility, and covered with cacao plantations, and “huertas,” of the most luxuriant productiveness. It was at San Jorge that the final conflict with Somoza took place, and the buildings around the plaza bore the usual marks of shot; and it was here that the French officer who had been so polite to us at San Carlos, but who had foolishly joined Somoza for the sake of “beauty and booty,” was killed. One of the officers pointed out a little depression in the surface of the ground; it was his grave; they had buried him where he fell.

A few minutes’ ride from San Jorge, along one of the numerous paths worn by the aguadoras, brought us to the lake. The shore is high and bluff, and there is only a narrow strip of sandy beach between it and the waters. Here were numerous bongos and canoes drawn up on the sand, parties of marineros cooking their breakfasts, men watering their horses in the surf, half naked women, surrounded by troops of children, busily engaged in washing, water-carriers filling and balancing their jars—all the movement and picturesque life which had so deeply impressed me upon my first landing on the beach of Granada. The wind blew strongly, and the waves swept in with a force which surprised me. The rollers outside were like those of the ocean, and a canoe just then coming in was swamped the moment it reached them, and was only prevented from being overset and stove on the shore, by the crew, who had previously thrown themselves overboard, and steadied it by clinging to its sides. It would have been impossible for us to have got outside, even if we had been in readiness to go to the island. I found that our patron and crew were to have been the same who had taken us to Pensacola, and had vexed us so prodigiously by their laziness. They saluted me with the greatest familiarity, and seemed to be much disappointed when Señor Hurtado told them they would not be wanted. They had evidently counted on a large supply of aguardiente, and on being gloriously drunk for at least a week. I gave them a few reals wherewith to drink my health, for which they invoked the blessing of all the saints on my head.

The return ride was a rapid one, and the young officers who accompanied us amused themselves greatly by racing their horses. Their mode of doing this is very different from ours, and a trifle more dangerous. The rivals place themselves side by side, and join hands, starting off at a given signal. The one whose greater speed enables him to drag the other from his horse, wins; and if the race is in earnest, the least the beaten party can expect to get off with is a tumble in the sand, with a chance of a broken head. There are many fine horsemen in Central America; indeed, a good horse, and the ability to ride him well, are the two things which the “fast fellows” of that country most do covet, and in the possession and display of which they take most pride. For my sole gratification, I presume, one of the officers volunteered some exhibitions of his skill. He requested me to drop my whip a little in advance; I did so, and as he dashed past, at the full speed of his horse, he bent down gracefully and picked it up,—a feat which those who do not think difficult had better attempt. He also borrowed a lance from an Indian whom we met, and showed me the manner in which it is handled by those who fully understood its use. I was amazed at his dexterity, and not less so at the skill with which one of his companions, using only his sword, warded off the blows aimed at him with the blunt end. It occurred to me that any “gringo” like myself might be a dozen times run through by a lancer of this order, before fairly aware of the circumstance; and I made a mental resolve, in case of encountering “ladrones” with lances, to appeal to my “Colt,” before admitting any too familiar approaches.

The morning of the third day found M. no better, and requiring, as before, the constant care of the doctor. Señor Hurtado had, however, planned an excursion across the country to the Pacific. We were to take coffee at Potosi with Mr. Woeniger, breakfast at an estate of Señor Hurtado’s, in the little valley of Brito, ride to the sea, and be back to dinner. We were off at daylight, and rode a league through an unbroken garden, to Potosi, a straggling town like the Obraje, and, like that, a curious compound of city and country, plazas and plantations. Our friend was expecting us, and after despatching our coffee, none the less acceptable because of our brisk ride, he showed us through his cacao estate. It was small but well kept, and constantly increasing in value; for in addition to replacing the decaying trees, he every year put in an additional four or five hundred, each one of which, when matured, according to the rate of calculation here, is valued at a dollar. It requires from five to seven years to make a plantation; or rather, that time is requisite before the trees commence “paying.”