California illustrated

by J. M. Letts

The town is pleasantly situated about fifty feet above the level of the river, and contains some eight hundred inhabitants. At the time of our arrival, there were about five hundred Americans encamped in the town. The buildings are mostly constructed of reed, thatched with palm-leaf. (See Plate). A hammock is slung under the eave of one of these houses, occupied by the mother, in the act of administering to the wants of a little one; an open countenanced dog is near, as if waiting to relieve the child, a señora is shelling corn, and a hog is looking on, one foot raised, in readiness to obey the first summons.

The people dress, as in Chagres, with the addition, in some cases, of half a yard of linen and a string of beads. The Alcalde and his lady were generally well dressed; but, as strange as it may appear, they were always accompanied in their morning walks by their son, a lad of fourteen, his entire costume consisting of a Panama hat. In the evening of the day of our arrival, we observed our worthy boatman making himself familiar around the American tents. Soon the police were on the alert, and we were informed that he was one of the most notorious thieves in the country. He had landed back, thinking it safer to come into town at night. We had our baggage carried up, and were soon residents of the American part of the town. I was here put in possession of facts which strengthened my suspicions of the individual who passed down the river on the previous night; and, in the sequel, instead of returning to Gorgona, he, on his arrival at Chagres, hired a native to carry him to a vessel that was about to sail for New Orleans, and in attempting to climb on board he missed his footing, fell into the water and was drowned. His hat came to the surface, but his body was never recovered.

There was, at this time, no means of conveyance from Panama to San Francisco, and people preferred remaining, and consuming their provisions in Gorgona, to paying exorbitant prices to have it transported to Panama. After remaining some days I purchased a horse, and started for Panama, twenty-five miles distant.

It is a pleasant ride across, being a succession of mountains and valleys, each valley containing a spring-brook of the purest water. Two miles out of Gorgona you enter a mule path running through a dense forest, the branches interchanging overhead, forming an arbor sufficiently dense to exclude the sun. You sometimes pass through gullies in the side of the mountain, sufficiently wide at the bottom to admit the mule and his rider, and looking up, you find yourself in a chasm with perpendicular sides, twenty feet in depth, into which the sun has never shone. Here, as in all Spanish countries, are numerous crosses, marking the resting-place of the assassin’s victim. When within three miles, the country opens, disclosing to the view the towers of the cathedral, indicating the location of Panama. The balance of the road is paved with cobble stones, the work of convicts, who are brought out in chain-gangs. One mile out, you cross the national bridge, a stone structure of one arch; here is also an extensive missionary establishment, now in ruins. When within half a mile of the wall of the city, you pass a stone tower, surmounted by a cross. You are now in the suburbs of the city. The street is paved, and on either side are ruins, some of considerable extent, having been costly residences, with highly cultivated gardens attached. You pass a plaza, on one side of which is an extensive church. You now enter between two walls, which gradually increase in height, as you approach the gate, until, crossing a deep moat which surrounds the city, they are joined to the main wall.

On entering the gate the first thing that presents itself is a chapel, where you are expected to return thanks for your safe arrival. I rode through, put my horse in the court-yard of the

“Washington House,” took supper, surveyed the town, and retired. At about three in the morning, I was aroused by a strange noise. On going to the window I saw a procession of nuns and priests passing through the street, escorted by a band of music. They presented a strange appearance. The priests were dressed in black robes and tights, wearing black hats with broad brims, rolled up and fastened to the crown; the nuns, with white scarfs passing over the head and sweeping the round, each carried a lighted taper, presenting the appearance of a procession of ghosts. They would all join in chanting some wild air, when the band would play the chorus. Nothing could be more impressive than such a scene as this. Aroused from sleep at the dead of night, by such wild strains, uttered in such impassioned tones, as if pleading for mercy at the very gates of despair. They seemed like doomed spirits, wandering about without a guiding star, under the ban of excommunication.

I rose early in the morning, bathed in the Pacific, and after breakfast mounted for Gorgona, where I arrived in the evening. I went to a rancho, half a mile distant, for sugar-cane for my horse. I was waited upon by the proprietress who accompanied me to the cane-field, and used the machet with her own hands. After cutting a supply for the horse, she presented me with a piece for my own use, which I found extremely palatable. This lady is one of the most extensive landholders in New Grenada, and one of the most wealthy. She lived in a thatched hovel, the sides entirely open, with the earth for a floor. Her husband was entirely naked, and seemed to devote his attention to the care of the children, of whom there were not less than a dozen, all dressed like “Pa.” She dressed in “Bloomer,” i. e., she wore a half-yard of linen, and a palm-leaf hat. My horse was stolen during the night. I went to the Alcalde next morning, offered him $5 reward, and before night I was obliged to invest another real in sugar-cane for my worthy animal. Money here is a much more effectual searcher than eyes, particularly for stolen horses.

After remaining a few days I again started for Panama. It was after noon, and after riding some distance my horse was taken sick. I stopped until evening, when I again mounted, but was soon obliged to dismount and prepare for spending the night in the woods. It was quite dark, and as I was taking the saddle off my horse five very suspicious-looking natives came up, and were disposed to be inquisitive. To rid myself of them, I told them I expected a “companiero.” They left with apparent reluctance. After kindling the fire, fearing they might renew their visit, I put caps on my revolver, preparatory to loading it. As I was in the act of so doing my horse startled, looked wildly about, and, in a moment, I heard footsteps approaching. As they drew near, I thought they were in boots, and consequently Americans. I cried out, “Americano?” They immediately called my name. My surprise and pleasure can well be imagined as I recognized the voices of the Dodges, Shultz, Eiswald, and Hush.