In the wake of the buccaneers

by A. Hyatt Verrill

First and most important of all in the cessation of Panama’s gold output was the fact that the Spaniards worked their mines by slave labor, usually making use of the native Indians. These often rebelled, and when opportunity offered massacred their cruel masters, destroyed the workings, and concealed or obliterated the approaches, so that the mines were lost. The negro and Moorish slaves brought in, ran away, became allies of the buccaneers and the Indians, led a wild bush life, and were a constant menace to the outlying settlements. Still later, with the emancipation of the slaves, many mines could not be worked at a profit and were abandoned, while in numerous cases the incredibly rich placers, which were mere pockets, were worked out and exhausted.

Revolutions, rebellions, and wars did their part [[317]]as well. The cattle ranges were deserted, outlying estates were destroyed, unprotected settlements were abandoned, and the jungle took possession of fields and lands.

But all this took many years. Even as late as 1850 virtually all the commerce of the isthmus was paid for in raw Panamanian gold, and such tumble-down, half-deserted interior towns as Santiago de Veraguas, Las Minas, San Francisco, and a score of others were busy, populous centers of wealth, fashion, and commerce.

And all the former prosperity of the country might have been won back and Panama might still be a rich and thriving country, had it not been for its people.

The old Dons, despite their ruthlessness, and their insatiable lust for gold, were daring, indomitable men. No hardship was too great for them to endure if there were riches to be won or new lands to conquer. No undertaking was too difficult, no dangers could deter them; even death mattered little, and, fighting the savages as they went, they overran the land, established towns, discovered mines, cultivated the soil, built cities, and endured every privation in building up the wealth and prosperity of the Castillo del Oro.

But not so their descendants, the decadent [[318]]people that have inherited the land which once was the brightest and richest jewel of all the colonies of the Spanish Crown. With very few exceptions the Panamanians are of a mongrel breed—a mixture of the Spaniard, the negro, and the Indian, with all of the worst and few of the best qualities of the three. Add to this a goodly sprinkling of Chinese blood, a dash of that of the old Moorish slaves, a seasoning of all the races of Europe which have passed across the isthmus during four hundred years, and we have the Panamanian of to-day. A few old families there are, to be sure, in whose veins the blood of the Castilian conquistadors runs fairly unmixed, and in certain outlying villages in the interior the people pride themselves on their pure Spanish descent. But the average Panamanian is the product of a melting-pot wherein the blood of a dozen races has been blended. Moreover, the blood has been of a far from desirable kind. It is the blood of adventurers, of soldiers of fortune, of remittance men, of those who have sought refuge where no extradition treaties were in force; the blood of gamblers and seamen, of down-trodden slaves and cowed and beaten Indians—the heritage of that vast horde that passed over the Bridge of the World from the days of Balboa to the building of the canal. [[319]]

In the various portions of the republic the Panamanian varies somewhat, but only in the matter of blood, not in character. In the northern and western provinces he is mainly of Spanish and Indian extraction; in the Darien district and the east he is largely African, and in the cities he is a combination of everything—a hodgepodge of races, of colors, and of ancestry such as can be found on few spots on earth. But, whatever his blood, the character, temperament, and point of view of the Panamanian are virtually the same everywhere. He is conceited, arrogant, lazy, and weak in physique. For centuries the people have been content to live from the traffic across the isthmus, to cull a livelihood from those who passed from ocean to ocean, and to neglect their country’s resources. In the interior they have degenerated into listless, abjectly poor, hook-worm-infested, undernourished, unspeakably miserable creatures whose lives are as aimless as the scrawny, tick-ridden cattle, and whose intellects are scarcely greater than those of the beasts about them. In the cities the common people are hardly superior, as far as physical or moral conditions are concerned, and they are absolutely lacking in initiative, foresight, or ambition, save in playing politics or in securing a soft government job. [[320]]

Of course there are exceptions. There are many decent, intelligent, progressive, up-to-date and industrious men who have the interests and the good of their country at heart; men who are honest and advanced in their ideas and who would be a credit to any land. But these are a woeful minority. And, moreover, even the best of the Panamanians are neither builders, creators, manufacturers, masters of industry—or even good business men. What few industries there are in Panama are run by Americans; all the leading stores are in the hands of foreigners and Hebrews. Chinese and East Indians control the bulk of the smaller shops, and even the coal-black negroes from the British and French West Indies outdo the native Panamanians as far as business ability and progressiveness are concerned.

PANAMA