I engaged a cart to take myself and baggage to Grenada, but after waiting one day, with no prospect of starting, I purchased a horse, and engaged passage for my trunk in a cart that was about to start, and was soon under way. We passed through Chichigalpa, Poselagua, &c., small towns, and at night, put up at a miserable rancho, with the prospect of a poor supper, and poorer lodgings. We had traveled, during the day, through a level, densely timbered country, the road having been a continuous mud-hole, in many places almost impassable; I stretched myself out on a bench, half my length, and after paying court to Morpheus for an hour, fell into his arms. The next morning, at ten, we arrived at Leon, the capital of Nicaragua; we had not breakfasted, consequently this was our first care, after which we took a survey of the town.
This is a place of much importance, being the home of the aristocracy and talent of the country. It is ornamented with public buildings, churches, and convents which, for extent and magnificence, are not equalled in the country. The plaza is spacious, and surrounded by public buildings, elaborately ornamented with stucco, all indicating the work of a master-hand. My first impressions were of the most pleasing character, but upon extending my walk, a feeling of sadness insensibly stole upon me. Here, too, amidst the beauties, I might say the perfections of nature, here in this almost celestial atmosphere, is found the impress of those sanguinary revolutions, with which this doomed country has been laid waste. One half the town is in ruins. Palaces that were once the scene of regal banquets, are now roofless, and tenanted only by loathsome reptiles. Here, are figures, representing Liberty and Peace, now half-buried beneath the ruins, their faces bearing the marks of the ruthless sabre. The political, like the natural existence of this country, has always been precarious; her social elements, like her subterranean caverns, have always been in a state of agitation; the lava of human passions frequently bursting forth, devastating, and drenching the country with blood.
The inhabitants of Leon were, as a class, superior to any I had seen in the country; the men were robust, active, and intelligent, and the females beautiful. They seemed more nearly allied to the Castilian than any I had seen in any of the departments of Spanish America. Hospitality is the predominant characteristic; we frequently found ourselves under obligations, and owing debts of gratitude I fear it will never be in our power to cancel. We feel under particular and lasting obligation to Don Pedro Vaca, and family, for their unsolicited attentions. It was to them we were indebted for a bountiful repast, which was prepared and served by the accomplished daughters,
Whose sympathetic smiles chased fatigue away,
And changed the night of melancholy into day.
They were beautiful, and unconsciously so. I was at a loss which most to admire, the graceful forms, finely-chiseled features, lustrous eyes, and flowing hair, or that soft winning artlessness, which was so preëminently theirs. There was a daughter-in-law in the family; she was also beautiful, but her beauty was in strong contrast with that of the daughters—she having auburn hair, light eyes, and an alabaster complexion. I here fell in with Capt. B., an “old salt,” who very kindly received my trunk into the cart with his own.
Chapter Twenty-fifth.
A PROBLEM IN MATHEMATICS WORKED OUT WITH A CANE—PUEBLO NUEVA—CULTIVATING THE ACQUAINTANCE OF A HORSE—LOOKING FOR THE RIDER—AN “OLD SALT” STUCK IN THE MUD—UNCOMFORTABLE NIGHT’S REST—NAGAROTES—LAKE LEON AND THE SURROUNDING VOLCANOS—MATARES—DELIGHTFUL COUNTRY—MANAGUA—DON JOSE MARIA RIVAS—NINDAREE—RUINS OF A VOLCANO—A LONG INDIVIDUAL IN SPURS—A DILEMMA—ONE OF MY HORSE’S LEGS IN MOTION—A BOY IN A MUSICAL MOOD—ENTRY INTO MASSAYA—BLOOMERISM.
After remaining three hours at Leon, we were again in motion; not, however, without the usual “poco tiempo.” Our driver now had half a dozen “compañeros;” and in this country people are slow, in mathematical progression, or retrogression—what takes one half an hour to do, takes three six hours. Our captain, however, worked out this problem with his cane upon the back of one of the drivers, which produced a very different result. Our team did not get hungry, nor our drivers fatigued; the latter manifested a particular aversion to the captain’s system of mathematics. The very sight of his cane would create a stampede among them.