“A little model the master wrought Which should be to the larger plan, What the child is to the man.” —Longfellow.

If the question were asked, “What is the greatest constructive work that has yet been undertaken by man?” there would, without question, be a great many different replies. There can, however, be only one reply as to the most costly. Perhaps, also, there can be but one answer as to the most disastrous to human life. The Panama canal would almost certainly secure pre-eminence in these attributes. It might or might not rank equally high as a work of engineering genius and possible public utility.

There has probably never been a project that has so challenged the admiration and the approval of the world as that of finding a waterway between the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans, at or near to the narrow neck of land that separates Limon from the Gulf of Panama in Central America. This enterprise has a long and a very eventful history. Many explorers, geographers, statesmen, engineers, and economists have either written on the merits and demerits of the undertaking, or have otherwise become associated with it. Some of the more notable episodes in the records of the isthmus may therefore be referred to, before proceeding to describe the various projects now either in progress or in contemplation, for opening it up for the purposes of trade, commerce, and navigation.

One of the earliest direct references to the importance of a waterway between the two oceans is that made by Cortez in his letters to Charles V. The great conqueror, however, does not seem to have contemplated the construction of such a waterway. He diligently searched for a natural waterway or strait between the two oceans, and declared that to be “the one thing above all others in the world I am most desirous of meeting with,” on account of its immense utility. Some sixty or seventy years later, there was a project put forward by the Spaniards for uniting the two oceans by a waterway, but it does not appear to have been carried any length. The Spaniards, indeed, were hardly the people to achieve such a distinction. Unlike the ancient Romans, the Italians, and the Chinese, their skill was not very marked in hydraulics. They were, besides, much too superstitious to venture on interference with what many of them believed to be an ordinance having all the fixity of a law of nature.[165]

The American Isthmus next claims attention as associated with the ill-starred fortunes of William Paterson and the Darien scheme.[166]

The earliest, and in some respects the best, information yet available, relative to the topography of the country adjacent to the Panama Canal, is that furnished by Dampier,[167] who spent some time on the isthmus and noted all its chief physical characteristics. Dampier’s observations, however, were chiefly made in and about the Gulf of St. Michael, which he describes as lying “nearly thirty leagues from Panama, towards the south-east,” and as “a place where a great many rivers, having finished their course, are swallowed up in the sea.” Dampier found the isthmus very low and swampy, “the rivers being so oosy that the stinking mud infects the air.”

Lionel Wafer[168] has also made an early and valuable report on the character of the country bordering on the route of the present Panama Canal, describing it “as almost everywhere of an unequal surface, distinguished with hills and valleys of great variety for height, depth, and extent.” He described the river Chagre, or Chagres, as one which “rises from some hills near the South Sea, and runs along in an oblique north-westerly course till it finds itself a passage into the North Sea, though the chain of hills, if I mistake not, is extended much further to the west, even to the Lake of Nicaragua.”

De Ulloas[169] and some friends in 1735 made an ascent of the river Chagres on their journey from Cruces to Panama. This voyage is interesting as being one of the first that is recorded over the river that has since played so prominent a part in the history of the canalisation of the isthmus. They found the banks of the Chagres impassable, for the most part, from the density of the vegetation and the velocity of the current. The vessels that were then more or less accustomed to navigate the Chagres were described by De Ulloas as chatas and bongos—the first carrying 600 or 700 quintals, and the latter 400 or 500. The river was found to be so full of shallows that even vessels of this small size had to be lightened every now and again until they had passed over them.

No one has taken a greater interest in the subject of a ship canal than Humboldt, who regarded Kelley’s Atrato route with approval, and who, replying to the objections brought against the proposal in his time, declared that “there is nothing more likely to obstruct the extension of commerce and the freedom of international relations than to create a distaste for farther investigation by discouraging, as some are too positive in doing, all hope of an oceanic channel.”[170]

A survey was made of the isthmus in 1827 by Captain Lloyd and Captain Falmark, the former an officer of engineers in the Colombian service, and the latter a Swedish gentleman acting in that capacity for the time being. Beginning at Panama, they followed the old line of road from that city to Porto Bello, a distance of 22¾ miles, where they found the surface of the water in the river to be 152½ feet above high-water mark at Panama. At Cruces they found a fall in the river of 114½ feet, leaving only about 38 feet as the height above the Pacific. It was found that at Panama there was a rise and fall of the tide in the Pacific of 27·4 feet, being 13·5 feet above the high-water mark of the Atlantic at Chagres. These and other observations led them to conclude[171] that “in every twelve hours, commencing with high tides, the level of the Pacific is first several feet higher than that of the Atlantic; it becomes then of the same height, and at low tide it is several feet lower; again, as the tide rises, the two seas are of one height, and, finally, at high tide the Pacific is again the same number of feet above the Atlantic as at first.”[172]