“The person or persons who may deliver the criminal Rafael Carrera, dead or alive (if he does not voluntarily present himself under the last pardon), shall receive a reward of fifteen hundred dollars and two caballerias of land, and pardon for any crime he has committed.
“The general-in-chief,
“J. N. Carvallo.
“Guatemala, July 20th, 1838.”
Outlaws and robbers joined this new leader, while the main body of troops were men in rags armed with all kinds of weapons from rusty muskets to knives on long poles; and even sticks shaped like muskets with tin-plate locks were carried by many. As this oddly-assorted band approached Guatemala City thousands of women joined them with sacks to carry away the loot and plunder. Viva la religion! Death to the foreigners! were the cries that filled the air as they entered the walls of the capital. The government, knowing its own weakness and also Carrera’s mercenary disposition, finally compromised by paying Carrera $1,000 for his own use and $10,000 to be distributed among his troops, and making him a general in the army. A foolish compromise! An injudicious surrender! Temporary quiet was followed by more and greater disorder, and Morazan was compelled soon afterwards to flee to San Salvador, then to Costa Rica, where he was openly insulted, and finally to South America, where he found peace and quiet.
A quiet life did not suit the spirit of General Morazan, for he soon after returned to Costa Rica and became involved in the political troubles of that country. As in Honduras and Guatemala his sword was found on the side of freedom and against oppression. Ill luck followed his forces and he was captured by treachery and the promise of immunity. He was cast in irons and a mock trial held at which he was condemned to die within three hours. The prospect of death did not break the brave spirit of this remarkable man, and he dictated his will and a defence of his actions, and then boldly faced the squad of executioners. He himself gave the command to fire, after seeing that good aim was taken by the soldiers. Thus died at San Jose, Costa Rica, on the 15th of September, 1842, the twenty-first anniversary of freedom from the Spanish yoke, perhaps the greatest statesman that Central America has yet produced. He was misunderstood, maligned and killed, but his last words were prophetic:
“Posterity will do me justice.”
Carrera was only about twenty-one years of age when he first became the leader of the clerical, or servile, forces. Of base birth, his mother being a well-known market woman, he was so ignorant that he could not even write his name, and signed official documents with a rubber stamp; of a violent and irascible temper and the slave of violent passions, yet he was bold, determined and persevering; constantly beaten, yet he always managed to escape. From a common servant he became a pig driver and later the absolute dictator of Guatemala for many years. At first the mere tool of the priests, they were afterwards obliged to put up with the insults and abuse of the man whom they had raised up to a position of power. His vanity knew no bounds and there was no limit to his cruelty. He beat men, pulled out their hair and beards; violated women, cut off their tresses and ears; and, while president, he occasionally shot men on the plaza for effect. On one occasion he ordered eighteen prominent citizens of Quezaltenango shot on the plaza as an example to the rest of the inhabitants.
John L. Stephens, an American diplomat, who met Carrera many times, has given us a vivid picture of this man. He describes him as about five feet, six inches in height, with straight black hair and an Indian complexion. Stephens happened to be in a town that was captured by Carrera. Every inhabitant was compelled to shout, Viva Carrera! If the person hesitated a gun would be aimed at his breast and, if he refused, it would be fired. Viva la Patria! was never thought of, for Carrera was the government. He never talked of how many prisoners he took, but it was always how many of the enemy were killed, for prisoners were not desired.
Carrera raised his army by promising the natives the plunder of the capital, says Stephens. He approached it with a tumultuous mass of half-naked savages, men, women and children, estimated at ten or twelve thousand. Several well-known outlaws, criminals, robbers and murderers were with him. The “General” rode on horseback with a green bush in his hat which was hung around with pieces of cotton cloth covered with pictures of saints, wore a pair of green, frieze trousers, and a fine coat covered with gold embroidery. The natives all had green bushes in their hats, looking like a moving forest as they marched down the streets of the capital. As they proceeded the soldiers cried: “Viva la religion and death to the foreigners.” One captive general was placed sidewise on a mule with his feet tied under the animal, and his face bruised, swollen, and disfigured by stones and blows of machetes. Many other prisoners were tied together with ropes. This was similar to the invasion of Rome by the barbaric hordes of the north.