Twenty years around the world

by John Guy Vassar

I took the old mountain road from Caracas on mule back to La Guayra to await the Venezuelan mail schooner, bound to Puerto Cabello. I never passed over a more rugged road or one where it was more difficult for a mule to keep on his legs, for rain the day before had rendered the tortuous and winding way very slippery. I left before sunrise, and found the city enveloped in a white cloud or mist, but on arriving upon the summit of the mountain, where commences the descent to the ocean, the sun had risen in all his majesty, and dispelled the vapors upon the eminences, while Caracas was yet invisible, and appeared like an immense misty sea in the valley below.

The rollers or surf at LaGuayra are perhaps worse than any to be found after a storm, except on the African coast, and the roadstead affording no protection, most of the vessels had put to sea the day after my arrival, and I found myself in company at the hotel with the commander of the Danish brig of war, Ornen, or Eagle, who was separated from his vessel, as his lieutenant was obliged to put to sea to escape a lee shore. Being a particular friend of a Danish commander of my acquaintance, with whom I had travelled, and whose plantation I had visited at St. Croix, he invited me to join him. After the storm had abated, with the aid of surf-boats and men, who stripped and forced the boat forwards, we reached the ship’s boat, and gained our brig, bidding adieu to the frightful white-caps which had almost entirely destroyed the breakwater of the port, and produced such a deafening noise that I could scarcely sleep at night at the hotel which was near the shore.

One day’s sail brought us to Puerto Cabello, a beautiful and safe harbor, which is resorted to for repairing vessels, and for purposes of commerce, as well as safety. It is a plain Spanish town, on level ground, and has nothing remarkable to offer the traveller, except its beautiful rides in ascending the Cordillera of Mountains that runs parallel with the coast, and then winds along the banks of a beautiful small stream to the village of St. Stephen, the resort of the foreign residents in summer. Our brig had formerly visited this port when the foreigners had fears of an attack from the blacks of the country, and as the report of sixteen thirty-two-pounders, and an equipage of one hundred and two men and officers presents a formidable appearance, all passed off quietly. We were received with great hospitality on the part of the German merchants, and the commander and myself had always horses at our disposal.

I had never yet seen in any country such a luxurious growth of vegetation as presented itself along the streams in the valley of the interior. This country produces an abundance of coffee, and cacao, from which chocolate is made, and my eyes had never beheld such a variety of tropical fruits and in such profusion, as in winding along the banks of this little stream on horseback. The coffee plant; the cacao, which produces a sort of seed resembling a large bean; orange and lime trees filled with fruit; cocoa-nut trees loaded with fruit, falling in many instances without being gathered; bananas, which produce the staff of life in the absence of bread, and which, after yielding fruit, are cut down to spring up anew without culture; the beautiful and tall, broad-leafed bread-fruit trees; with the graceful palm, and an immense variety of wild trees and flowers full of beauty. It seems as if nature had been too lavish and wished to outdo herself, and that, too, to an ungrateful people who would not gather through indolence that which was forced upon them.

The new steamer Venezuela, built at Pittsburg by a New York company, for the navigation of the Oronoko river, was at LaGuayra a few days since. At Puerto Cabello I found the officers of the steamer Scourge, which was captured, and lies in the harbor. I think she was unlawfully seized under American colors, although brought out for the revolutionary party.

We sailed from Puerto Cabello to Curacoa in company with the French brig of war, Le Cygne, and arrived a little before her, taking the first and only pilot to enter that pretty harbor, with its narrow and difficult passage, which resembles somewhat, in its fortifications on each side, the entrance of Havana. We had given our salute and been responded to by sixteen guns from the fort, when our rival entered. We were soon visited by the aide-de-camp of the governor, and the officers of the Dutch transport ship and brig of war on the station, from whom we received much civility. Through the politeness of Mr. Slaugard, the governor’s aide, horses were procured for the French and Danish commanders and myself to visit the curious caves of Hatto, on the north side of the island, which to me were not very interesting, as I had seen others of like formation on a more extensive scale in other countries; but what appeared to me curious was the continual dripping and formation of stalactites from this volcanic and coral rock, considerably elevated above the level of the sea, and in a country where it seldom rains.

The island is generally arid, and has a barren appearance; an insect has destroyed within a few years almost all the cocoa-nut trees. The trees generally are of a stunted growth, and where they are exposed to the trade-winds they lean or shoot their branches in an opposite direction. The guinea corn is adapted to the soil, and is produced in large quantities. Within a few years the government has introduced the growth of the cochineal, and with success; and Mr. Slaugard accompanied us to the plantations, where we had an opportunity of seeing the production of the cochineal bug upon the cactus plant. The aloes and the tamarind fruit also produce well.

The population of the island is about twenty thousand; the town itself is situated upon both sides of the harbor, which extends back and opens into a large bay for miles in depth, and in both boroughs contains some six or eight thousand inhabitants. The houses are well built, after the Dutch style, and have the external air of freshness of color, comfort, and cleanliness; but the present race sadly represents its ancestors. Nature has withheld her bountiful hand, and I could readily contrast the difference between the people here, and those I had just left. Stern necessity obliges them to be industrious, and in all parts women, men, and children are employed in making a sort of straw or cane, into hats, cigar cases, baskets, &c. The climate is delightful, perhaps the best in the West Indies or the Spanish Main for invalids. The expenses of life are very moderate, but the hotels are miserable, with no reading-rooms or sources of amusement or instruction for a permanent residence.

The language of the common people is the Curacoa, so called, and is a composition or patois of African, Dutch, and Spanish. In families of the best class, and among the officers of government, the language of the mother country is spoken; many speak English and French. At a soirée given to the officers of the ships of war in harbor by the governor, who is a finished gentleman, and much respected, I found several young ladies quite at home in the English and French languages, and also quite proficient in music, though they had never left the island.

One of the sources of revenue of Curacoa, is its salt pans, which we took occasion to visit, upon the borders of the sea. The water from the ocean is let in in sufficient quantities; the sluices are then closed, when the process of evaporation commences, and with the strong rays of the sun produces an abundant yield.