Nicaragua

LA UNION—OYSTERS—AMERICAN BOOKS—CHIQUIRIN—FRENCH FRIGATE “LA SÉRIEUSESÉRIEUSE”—ADMIRAL HORNBY OF THE ASIA 84—FRENCH AND ENGLISH WAR VESSELS—ASCENT OF THE VOLCANO OF CONCHAGUA—A MOUNTAIN VILLAGE—PECULIARITIES OF THE INDIANS—LAS TORTILLERAS—VOLCANO OF SAN MIGUEL—FIR FORESTS—AN ANCIENT VOLCANIC VENT—THE CRATER OF CONCHAGUA—PEAK OF SCORLÆ—VIEW FROM THE VOLCANO—ENVELOPED IN CLOUDS—PERILOUS DESCENT—YOLOLTOCA—PUEBLO OF CONCHAGUA AGAIN—AN OBSEQUIO—INDIAN WELCOME—SEMANA SANTA—DEVILS—SURRENDER OF GUARDIOLA—SAN SALVADOR—ITS CONDITION AND RELATIONS.

When morning broke, we were entering the inner bay of La Union, above which towers the great volcano of Amapala, or Conchagua. Between us and the shore, at the road of Chiquirin, where a clear mountain stream comes down from the volcano, and forms a little bay, were the British ship-of-the-line “Asia,” of 84 guns, and the French frigate “La Sérieuse.” The first was there on the usual semi-annual visit, for enforcing trumpery claims, and the second to watch the “Asia” and the course of events in this quarter. Its officers and crew, although it was scarcely daylight, were engaged in making soundings, and other observations on the depth, capacity, etc., of the Bay.

The Bay was still, and two hours of steady pulling brought us in front of La Union, which is a small place, deriving its entire importance from being the port of the city of San Miguel, twelve leagues in the interior, and the most important commercial point in all Central America. Excepting three or four large bodegas or ware-houses, close to the water, belonging to the Government, and devoted to the reception of goods in bond, there was not a single object worthy of remark in the place. It nevertheless had an air of thrift; and a long dock or pier, then under construction, and designed to facilitate the landing and shipping of cargoes, showed that there was here rather more enterprise than we had yet discovered in the country.

Col. Caceres, the Commandante, had made us out with his glass, and was on the dock, together with my old friends, Dr. Drivon and Mons. Mercher, to receive and welcome us. He was a fine appearing officer, accomplished in manner, and in his tasteful undress uniform of dark green, might have been taken for an American. He had the good sense to omit parading his little garrison, and led us at once to his house, the best in the place, where we were introduced to his wife, Doña Maria, a tall, intellectual, well educated woman, whose cordial welcome made us quite at home. This lady, during my stay, was unremitting in her kindnesses, and, with her two sweet little daughters, has left an impression upon my mind as pleasing as it is ineffaceable.

The apartments which were assigned to me bore the best evidences that our host and hostess were far above the common mark, in point of education and accomplishments. A piano and a variety of music books occupied a part of the sala, and in my private chamber was a library well stocked with standard works; amongst them I observed Prescott’s Mexico, Irving’s Columbus, Cooper’s Spy, a translation of Livingston’s Code, and Spanish Lives of Washington and Dr. Franklin. The “Espy,” of the lamented Cooper, I may mention, seems to be better known in Spanish America than any other work in the English language. I found it everywhere; and when I subsequently visited the Indian pueblo of Conchagua, the first alcalde produced it from an obscure corner of the cabildo, as a very great treasure. He regarded it as veritable history, and thought “Señor Birch” a most extraordinary personage, and a model guerillero.

Dr. Drivon, who had recently returned from California, in high disgust, was established at the Doña Antonia’s, but a square distant; and as he had often praised the oysters found in the Bay of Fonseca, I hinted to him, before we had fairly got ashore, that I was ready to pass judgment on them. Fortunately, the Indians had brought in a fresh supply that morning, and he sent round a sack-full, which were served for breakfast. They were small, compact, and salt, and we ate them with the utmost relish. All hands concurred in saying that they were quite equal to the best “New-Haveners,” and the value of the Gulf of Fonseca became straightway doubled in our eyes. And then they were so cheap! As many as a man could carry for a medio, or six cents! We had them three times a day while we stayed in La Union, and before we left, I instructed the Doña Maria in the mysteries of pickling them, and she kindly sent me a little jar, by the Government courier, every week during the whole of the time I remained in the country. The oysters at all other places on the coast are large, soft, and insipid. Why they should differ so widely here, is a question for naturalists; I vouch only for the fact.

During the afternoon we were waited upon by the Lieutenant of “La Sérieuse,” with an invitation from the commander to visit his frigate, which we agreed to do on the following day, and accordingly, next morning we set out, accompanied by a guide and Mons. Mercher. This gentleman had been an officer under the Empire, and had resided in this country for thirty years, without becoming a whit less a Frenchman, and was just as ready to hurrah for a President as an Emperor, so that thereby he went against England and British aggrandisement, and for the glorification of “la belle France!” I had the Commandante’s own horse, a noble animal, full of spirit, but so gentle that a child could manage him. M., as usual, set the town in a roar, by tumbling from his mule in the principal street; a feat which, by constant practice, he had come to perform without suffering any damage. It was twelve miles by water to Chiquirin, where the vessels were anchored, but only six overland. Our road was nothing more than a mule path, skirting the bluff shores, and winding over the broken spurs of the volcano, amongst stones and rocks, and fallen trees, which it at first seemed impossible to surmount. After a wild scramble, we reached some ranchos in the woods, which were called the Pueblecita de Chiquirin, where we could hear the thunder of the surf below us. We now descended rapidly, and soon came upon a broad, sandy beach, skirting a small harbor, within which the “Asia” and “La Sérieuse” were anchored. A bright mountain stream, leaping amongst the black rocks, here plunged into the harbor, and on its banks, beneath the tall trees, the crew of the Asia had erected a temporary forge. One party of sailors was filling water-casks, and another was engaged in towing off some cows to the ships; altogether it was a busy and exhilarating scene. We were descried from “La Sérieuse,” and in a few minutes the Captain came in his gig to conduct us on board. We embarked with some difficulty; for, although the little bay is well sheltered from winds, it is so near one of the entrances of the Gulf, that the lateral swell is hardly less than the direct. We spent some hours on board the frigate, which was a model of neatness and order. The armament comprised all the latest improvements, and the crew was composed entirely of young and vigorous men. After a lunch, which was despatched with patriotic and fraternal accompaniments on both sides, I concluded an arrangement with the Captain touching an ascent, the following day, to the bare summit of the volcano, which pierced the clouds above our heads.

I thought it but civil to pay the Admiral a visit, and so waving all etiquette, and the captain favoring me with his boat, I started, under the prescribed salute, for the Asia. The Admiral received us cordially; and conducted us into his cabin, where we found his wife and her sister, and two of the admiral’s own daughters—all refined and accomplished ladies, with whom we spent a most agreeable hour. It was a real luxury to hear our mother tongue again, from a woman’s lips—and I regretted that a previous engagement at La Union prevented me from accepting the Admiral’s kind invitation to spend the night on board. The ladies were bitten with ornithologyornithology, and had a most brilliant collection of stuffed, tropical birds, which they were anxious to augment. So it was agreed that they should come up some day of the week to La Union, where I engaged to provide prog and poultry for the party.

The Asia was a great, cumbersome vessel, overstocked with men and cows and chickens, and looked like a store ship. Its guns were of the ancient fashion, of light calibre, and as compared with the heavy 64’s and 32’s of “La Sérieuse,” quite childish and behind the age. As I glanced through its decks, and contrasted its old, heavy, stupid-looking sailors with the young, quick, and intelligent crew of the Frenchman, I could not resist the impression that England’s grasp on the trident was growing feebler every day, and that another war would wrest it from her hands for ever. The commercial marine of the United States now exceeds hers; her vessels are beaten in every sea in the peaceful rivalry of trade; and France is preparing, if indeed she is not prepared, to more than regain the glory lost at Trafalgar.

Admiral Hornby was, however, the model of the frank and hearty sailor; and although I thought it was very small business for one of Nelson’s men, and a Knight of Bath, to be engaged in bullying the poor devil Governments of Central America, threatening them with blockades and the Lord knows what else, if they did not prevent their editors from “reflecting generally and particularly on the British government,”^[40] still, I was glad to meet him, and would have gone far out of my way to have done him a service. He was confounded by the politics of Central America, and well he might be. What little information he possessed, it was evident enough, had been derived from English agents in the country, who had resided here for many years, and had become as essentially partisans as any of the natives—sharing in local and personal hates and jealousies, and altogether burlesquing the offices which they filled. He had been instructed that it was his duty to be particularly severe upon Honduras, San Salvador, and Nicaragua, the only liberal States of the old Republic, and unfortunately the only ones which had good harbors and valuable islands to be seized in “behalf of Her Britannic Majesty.” But thus far he had had but poor success in the objects of his visit. Nicaragua had replied to his notes by enclosing a copy of that article of its constitution guarantying the liberty of the press; Honduras had flatly refused to have an unconstitutional treaty crammed down its throat; and San Salvador had with equal decision declined to recognize an obnoxious citizen, who claimed to be British Vice Consul, under a commission from Mr. Chatfield. And in the end, the Admiral had to take his departure, without having achieved anything beyond deepening the hatred towards the British government—a hatred, unfortunately too well founded, and the necessary result of a long series of insults and aggressions.

Our return to La Union was unmarked by a single incident worthy of record, except the unsolicited presence of a couple of pumas, for a moment, in our path; and the evening was devoted to preparations for ascending the volcano. At about nine o’clock the Captain of “La Sérieuse” arrived, and next morning, long before daylight, accompanied by a soldier of the garrison carrying an immense alforgas, prepared by the Doña Maria, we set out. We were not long in passing through the town, and the chaparral which surrounds it; and then, striking into a dark and ragged ravine, we commenced the ascent. As day dawned, I observed with surprise that the path was broad and smooth; and we now began to meet numbers of Indians, men and women, laden with fruit, corn, and other commodities, coming down from the volcano. I was greatly puzzled to account for any population in these rocky fastnesses, when the path turned suddenly up the almost precipitous banks of the ravine, and we found ourselves, a league and a half from the port, in the Indian Pueblo of Conchagua. Its site is most remarkable. Here is a broad, irregular shelf on the volcano’s side, the top, if I may so speak, of a vast field of lava, which, many ages ago, flowed downward to the sea. This shelf is covered with rocks thrown together in rough and frowning heaps, to make room for the dwellings of the inhabitants, which are half hidden by these rude pyramids. We wound some minutes through the crooked streets, and then reached the plaza, a large area, in the centre of which stands a low, picturesque church, built some time in the seventeenth century. We could scarcely comprehend that in a land of broad, fertile, and well-watered plains, a spot like this, rugged, sterile, and without a single fountain, should have been selected as the residence of any human being, much less of an entire community of two or three thousand souls. Nothing but purposes of protection and defence could account for the circumstance; and although a village may have existed here before the Conquest, yet I am disposed to credit the vague tradition which I afterwards heard, that a great portion of these Indians formerly lived where La Union now stands, and on the islands of the Gulf, and subsequently fled to this secluded spot to avoid the cruelty of the bucaneers, who, from 1650, for more than half a century, infested these shores. Here they seem resolved to remain, although every drop of water for their use, except that caught from the clouds during the rainy season, has to be brought for more than a league. The Government of San Salvador has offered every inducement to them—lands, exemption from taxation, and other privileges—to settle at the port, but they have steadily refused.

Although it was not yet sunrise, the town was active; and the whole female population was busy with its task of grinding and preparing tortillas for breakfast. Through the open doorways we caught glimpses of the inmates at their work, as cheerful and contented there, on the barren mountain side, as when the whole broad land was their own, and from these rugged heights they offered their adorations to the monarch Sun, the glorious emblem of their God.

Little patches of plantains, and some palm and fruit trees occupied the narrow spaces between the heaps of rocks and the huts, and completed a picture of primitive life, not less striking and beautiful, though less luxuriant, than that of Nindiri. Our presence created quite a sensation; and, fearful of an obsequio, I hurried our guide, and passed rapidly through the village. Beyond, the road was more broken, and hundreds of paths diverged from it in every direction. We soon came to clearings for purposes of cultivation. Wherever there were a few square yards of soil, the trees and bushes had been removed, and maize had been planted. There were also some considerable openings, covered with stumps and fallen trees, resembling those which the traveller constantly encounters on our frontiers. They recalled to mind my border rambles, thousands of miles to the northward; but I listened in vain for the solitudes to echo back the clear, ringing blows of the settler’s axe.^[41]

All around us were huge volcanic rocks, and we wound for two hours through the labyrinthine ravines, dark with trees, constantly ascending, but yet unable to see beyond the tangled verdure of the forest. Finally, however, the trees became fewer, and at eight o’clock we had emerged beyond the forests, and stood upon the grassy, scoriaceous slope of the volcano. And although the summit seemed more distant than ever, yet our position overlooked an almost interminable expanse of country. The Bay of La Union was mapped at our feet, and we could trace its esteros, gleaming like silver threads, amidst the level, green alluvions. To our left was the broad valley of San Miguel, but it was concealed from view by a mist, like an ocean of milk, above which, island-like, to mid-heaven, towered the great volcano of San Miguel—with the exception of Ometepec, the most regular in its outlines of any in Central America. From its summit rose a plume of white smoke, opalescent in the sun.^[42]

We halted for a quarter of an hour in silent admiration, and then resumed our course. We were on one of the bare ribs of the volcano, with deep ravines on either side, up which the forests, reduced to a narrow line of trees, extended for some distance farther. These spurs or ribs of the mountain are covered with long, coarse grass, which gives them an appearance of great smoothness; but it only conceals sharp, angular rocks, and a treacherous scoriaceous soil. Our path here, therefore, was more toilsome than in the forest; and as we advanced, the mules suffered greatly. I had given the Captain his choice of animals at the start, and he had selected a large, sleek, gentle mule, leaving me a little, black macho, a villanous hard trotter, vicious, but tough as iron. The Captain had kept ahead while we had a path, and seemed to have it very comfortable; but now, when the ascent commenced in earnest, the black macho left him far behind. The Captain spurred, and whipped, and “sacre’d” in vain; his mule finally came to a dead halt. We were now at the head of the ravines, whence the cone of the volcano rose sheer and regular as the pyramids. Upon one side of our path, and five or six hundred feet below us, was a belt of tall and beautiful fir trees, amongst which we discovered, with our glasses, a party of Indians collecting branches, wherewith to decorate the streets and churches, during the Semana Santa. As we ascendedascended, we had startled many deer, and numbers of them now stood, with heads elevated and ears thrown forward, contemplating us from a distance. There were also hundreds of wild turkeys, and while the Captain was resting his mule, I pursued a flock of them, and killed two, with as many discharges of my pistol; no great feat, by the way, for they were so tame that I came within fifty feet of them.

Again we started, and now the narrow path wound zigzag up the face of the mountain, so that in riding along we could almost lay our hands on the turn next above us. I let my macho take his course, and he picked his way as unconcernedly as if traversing a plain. I only feared that the indurated scoriæ might give way beneath his feet, and I shuddered, as I glanced down the steeps, to think what would be the inevitable result. And thus we toiled on, slowly and painfully, winding up slopes which no human being could have ascended directly. Finally we reached a spot where, some time or other, there had been a slide of the earth, forming a narrow shelf; and here the Captain’s mule again came to a dead halt. Whip nor spur could move him. Finally, however, I took hold of his halter, and succeeded in leading him into the narrow path, when he went on as before. At nine o’clock, we had reached the summit of the first peak, and stood upon the edge of a great funnel-shaped hollow, lined with grass, which had been an ancient vent. Its walls upon one side had been broken down, and we could see, far below, the rough outlines of the lava current which had flowed from it into the ocean. There were a number of these vents at various points, but the crater was still above us. In half an hour we reached its edge, and wound down its ragged side to a broad plain at its bottom. It was an immense amphitheatre, walled with precipitous cliffs. The eastern side was elevated, and covered with a forest of beautiful pines; its western depressed, with a spring of water at its lowest part, surrounded with a variety of trees and vines, constituting a sort of jungle, much frequented, our guide told us, by wild beasts. The rest of the area was covered with grass, now sere and yellow from the long drought. It was a singular spot, with no horizon but the rocky rim of the crater, and no view except above, where the sun shone down blindingly from a cloudless sky. We stood still, and like the pulsations of the earth’s great heart, we could hear the waters of the Pacific beating at the base of the mountain. I thought of a Milton prisoned here, face to face with heaven, listening to the deep utterances of the ocean, and striking the strings of his awful lyre, to the majestic measure of the sea!

“Let us go,” said the Captain with a shudder; “this is terrible.” We scrambled out of the crater on the side opposite from where we entered, towards a yet higher peak of scoriæ, connected by a narrow ridge with the body of the mountain. Upon that peak, whose feet were planted in the sea, the warder at the entrance of the Bay, there was a kind of look-out established by the Government, with a flag-staff, and a series of telegraphic signals, to convey intelligence to the port. This was the point which we were most anxious to reach, and from whence I anticipated being able to map out the entire Gulf. It may seem hardly possible, but the narrow ridge connecting the two peaks was barely wide enough for a mule path; it was like walking on the ridge of a house. The Captain refused to ride along it, and in order to keep him company, I also dismounted, and we proceeded on foot. It was past ten o’clock when we reached the summit of the peak; but although almost exhausted by our perhaps unnecessary exertions, we lost all sense of fatigue in the magnificence and extent of the prospect, which was bounded only by the great dividing ridge of the Cordilleras, looking like a faint cloud in the distance, upon one hand, and by the ocean horizon upon the other. The Gulf with its islands was revealed for its whole extent at a single glance, and it seemed as if we could almost look into the great Lake of Nicaragua, whose mountain-framed basin stretched away in illimitable perspective.

At the foot of the flag-staff was a little hut, half excavated in the earth, its roof heavily loaded with stones, to prevent it from being swept away by the winds. Here we found a man, a broad-shouldered, merry Indian, who was the watcher or sentinel, and who was greatly rejoiced to receive us. He had been “observador” here for six years, and we were the first blancos who had ascended during that period. And he produced his glass and made himself almost annoying in his zeal to point out to us the features of interest surrounding the Gulf.

Meantime our guide reached us, with the mules and the alforgas. Amongst our equipments was the flag of the United States, which was at once run up to the top of the signal post and answered from the port and the French frigate. “I accept the omen,” said the Captain gravely, and as I then thought and still believe prophetically; “that flag will soon be planted here en permanence, the symbol of dominion over two seas, and of a power the greatest the world has ever seen.”

The peak on which we stood seemed to have been formed in great part of scoriæ and other materials thrown out from the principal crater. It was a sharp cone, and the rounded summit was not more than sixty feet across. In fact, there was barely room for ourselves, the flag-staff, the hut, and the mules. It was now midday, and the thermometer marked only 68° of Fahrenheit, while at the same hour it stood at 86° at the port, a difference of sixteen degrees.

We had been nearly six hours in ascending, and after the novelty of the scene was a little over, we got beneath the hut, and helped ourselves to the plentiful contents of our guide’s alforgas, and then, without intending it, both fell asleep. I was awakened by the Captain, who looked pinched, and chilly, and rising, found myself uncomfortably cold. We crept outside; but in little more than an hour, everything had undergone a total change. Above and around us the sun was shining clearly, except when a thin rift of drizzling cloud, rapidly sweeping by, half-hid us from each other’s view. But below and around us, there was only a heaving ocean of milky white clouds—now swelling upwards to our very feet, and then sinking down so as to reveal long reaches of the bare mountain side. A current of sea air, saturated with moisture, sweeping past, had encountered the volcano, and become partially condensed in its cooler atmosphere. I asked the observador if it was common, and he said it happened almost daily; but that sometimes the wind was not strong enough to sweep the mist away, and then he had sat here for hours, muy triste, very melancholy, in the gloom. It was then an excellent time to pray, he added, with a laugh.

In an hour the mists had dissipated, and the view was again unobstructed. And, having taken the bearings of the principal landmarks, the Captain and myself, with the aid of the observador and our guide, amused ourselves by loosening rocks, and starting them down the side of the cone. They went leaping down, dashing the scoriæ on all sides, like spray, in their bounds; and, when they reached the belt of forest, we could see the trees bow down before them like grass before the mower’s scythe. One of these rocks, which we started with difficulty, must have weighed upwards of a ton; and we afterwards learned that it had been dashed to pieces within only a quarter of a mile of the Bay of Chiquirin.

At three o’clock, the observador having volunteered to show us a better route, we started on our return. He took us by a path running laterally down the side of the ridge connecting the two peaks to which I have referred, so steep that we repented having undertaken it, but so narrow, at the same time, as to render turning about impossible. In places my macho braced his feet and slid down a hundred feet at a time. It was “neck or nothing.” The Captain was behind, but how he got along I did not stop to inquire. It was one of those occasions when every man looks out for himself. After fifteen or twenty minutes of this kind of progress, my hair was less disposed to the perpendicular, and I began to have great faith in my macho. I was only nervous about my saddle girths.

In three-quarters of an hour, during which time we had descended more than two thousand feet, we reached the head of one of the principal ravines which furrow the mountain. Here was a narrow shelf, where was built the hatto of Juan, the observador, and where his family resided. Here, too, completely embowered amongst the trees, with a large reservoir, fifty feet long, cut by the ancients in the rock, was a copious spring, called Yololtoca; the ground all around it was paved with flat stones, and the approaches were protected by masonry. I was surprised to learn that it was from this spring that the inhabitants of Conchagua obtained now, as they had from time immemorial, their principal supply of water. It is fully two-thirds of the distance up the volcano, and more than a league from the town. While we stood beside the reservoir, to allow our mules to drink, a troop of girls came toiling up a flight of steps near by. They were from the village, and, like the aguadoras of Masaya, had little sacks strapped over their shoulders, wherein to carry their water jars, when weary of supporting them on their heads.

After resting a few minutes, we continued our descent. The path was now wider and better, but in some places, where the feet of the aguadoras had worn narrow steps in the rock, which the mules were obliged scrupulously to follow, exceedingly difficult. An occasional fallen tree obstructed our course, over which we had great trouble in forcing our mules. But after a deal of excitement, and whipping and hallooing, half an hour before sunset, we once more reached the village of Conchagua. As we approached, we had observed a man, stationed on a high rock, with an immense rattle, like those anciently used by watchmen in our cities. The moment he saw us, he sprung it, and leaping down, from rock to rock, disappeared in the direction of the town. Nearing the plaza, we saw the result; men and women, all gayly dressed, were hurrying in that direction, and there was evidently great excitement. At first, as this was holy week, I thought some of its ceremonies were in progress; but when I saw a couple of alcaldes, with heads uncovered, and holding aloft their wands of office, advance to meet us, the awful truth that we had unwittingly fallen into the jaws of an obsequio, was forced upon me. The Captain rode up, in evident surprise, and inquired what I supposed the Indians wanted. I professed ignorance. Meantime the alcaldes had planted themselves in front of my macho, and one of them, without so much as “by your leave,” had taken the bridle in his hands, while the other commenced reading an order of the municipality, felicitating the representative of the Great and Powerful Republic of El Norte on his arrival in the loyal Pueblo of Conchagua, and inviting him to a convite, which, he added in parenthesis, was then ready in the cabildo; and concluding with “Dios, Union, Libertad!” and “Viva la Republica del Norte!” In the latter the people all joined. I thanked them in corresponding hyperbolical phrase, and then introduced to them my friend, the Captain, as an officer of another great Republic; whereupon they uttered another round of vivas,—not for the Republic of France, but “El Amigo del Ministro del Norte!” This over, we were marched, with an alcalde on each side, to the cabildo. It was a large building, with a mud floor, and a double row of benches extending around it, close to the wall. At one end was an elevated platform, upon which were three or four elaborately carved and antiquated chairs and a desk, where the alcaldes held their courts, and administered justice; and at the other end a pair of stocks, wherein refractory criminals were confined, when occasion required. Against the wall, above the seats of the alcaldes, hung the fragments of an ancient flag; but no one could tell me its history; it was “muy, muy antiguo!” very, very old.

In the centre of the apartment was a table for six; the Captain, the two principal alcaldes, the bastonero or marshal, the cura, and myself. This part of the obsequio was unobjectionable, and the distinguished guests performed their parts with spirit, and to the great admiration of the spectators. Commend me to an ascent of the volcano of Conchagua for an appetite! Before we had half finished, it grew dark, and a dozen boys holding torches were introduced and stationed on the alcalde’s platform. There they stood like bronze statues, without moving, until we had finished. It was the most extraordinary meal of my life; and I experienced a singular sensation when I glanced around upon the swarthy, earnest faces of the Indians, rank on rank, only half revealed by the light of the torches, and reflected that here, in the volcanic fastnesses of San Salvador, amongst a people in whose veins not a drop of white blood flowed, the descendants of those who had fought against Cortez and Alvarado, the name of an American was not only a shield of security, but a passport to the rudest heart. It sounded strangely to hear them talk of Washington as the political regenerator, not of his own country alone, but of the continent and the world.

We returned to La Union by moonlight. During the day my companions, according to arrangement, had started on their return to Nicaragua, and I was now left alone with Ben. I had determined to await here the result of affairs at Nacaome, from whence we had not as yet received any intelligence. That very night a reinforcement from San Miguel marched silently through the streets of La Union, and in less than half an hour were embarked on their way to San Lorenzo. It was a forced march, and the practical reply to the despatches borne by “Diablo Negro.”

The day following was the holiest day of the Holy Week, and was ushered in with the firing of guns in the little plaza. The streets all wore their liveliest garb, and business of every kind was suspended. At nine o’clock the inhabitants all flocked to the church, whither I followed. But it was crowded to suffocation, and I was neither Christian nor curious enough to remain; accordingly I joined Dr. Drivon, at his rooms at the Doña Antonia’s, from whence the whole out-door performances could be witnessed. At eleven o’clock the crowd emerged into the plaza, where a procession, preceded by some musicians, was formed. In advance went twenty or thirty men and boys, half naked, and painted in a frightful manner, each bearing a wooden spear; these were supposed to represent Jews, Moors, and Devils, who are all classed in the same pleasant category. They engaged in mimic fights, and dashed through the streets, clearing every living thing before the procession, and by their fantastic actions creating great merriment. Then followed twelve boys, some white and others dark, to represent the apostles, and two sweet little girls, dressed in gauze, personifying the Marys. Joseph of Arimathea, a meztizo, staggered beneath a heavy cross, and on a bier, borne by six young men, was a wax figure representing Christ. Priests and chanters surrounded it, and a crowd of women and children, with palm branches, followed. The procession halted at every corner, while rockets were let off in the plaza. It was an incongruous, typical ceremony, allusive apparently to the crucifixion and burial of Christ. I asked Doña Antonia’s son, who had been one of the apostles, on his return to the house, what it meant. “Oh, nothing,” he replied briskly, “only Christ is dead, and we shall have no God for three days!” From this reply I inferred that it had produced no very lasting impression upon the minds of the apostles, whatever its effect upon the other participants.

Next morning I was roused at daylight by the firing of guns, but supposing that it only part of the fiesta, I went to sleep again. When I rose for breakfast, however, the Commandante placed in my hands an open letter from Gen. Cabañas, announcing the surrender of Gen. Guardiola, on substantially the basis before proposed, and the immediate dispersal of his troops. In less than one year after, Guardiola was in the field, as the aid of the President of San Salvador, against the very Serviles who had decoyed him into overt acts against his own government! Thus ended the disturbances in Honduras, which had, at one time, threatened to break up the proposed Union of the States, and, for the time, British and Servile policy were again crushed to earth.

The Admiral had already prepared to sail, and “La Sérieuse,” was every way ready to follow, at a moment’s warning. And although a deputation had arrived from San Miguel, to conduct me to that city, yet the principal object of my visit having been accomplished, I was anxious to return to Leon, which I did a day or two subsequently, having in the meantime made another trip to the island of Tigre, and completed the observations necessary to the construction of the Map of the Gulf of Fonseca, elsewhere presented.

I regretted much my inability to spend more time in San Salvador, which is, in many respects, the most interesting and important State of the five which composed the old federation. In territorial extent, it is the smallest, but it has a greater relative population than either of the others, and its people are better educated and more industrious. It has, from the first, been the stronghold of the Liberal party, and has constantly adhered, with heroic devotion, to the idea of Nationality. The restoration of the Republic of Central America is the grand object of its policy, and to this all other questions are regarded as subordinate. It has had frequent collisions with the agents of Great Britain, (who, without exception, are active Servile partisans,) but has always maintained itself with firmness and dignity. As a consequence, it has been grossly maligned, and its people held up as impersonations of perfidy and disorder. But there is no part of Central, nor of Spanish America, where individual rights are better respected, or the duties of republicanism better understood. Whatever the future history of Central America, its most important part, in all that requires activity, concentration, and force, will be performed by San Salvador.