Salvador of the Twentieth Century

by Percy F. Martin

Then comes another curious physical feature—a deep, green, and wooded basin of altogether unique scenic beauty and fertility, formed by the system of numerous small rivers which rise in the western part of the country around the feet of the volcano Santa Ana, falling finally into the sea near Sonsonate. This formation is in the shape of a triangle, the base resting on the sea, and the apex defined by the volcano. A second and even a larger basin is that of the River San Miguel, lying transversely to the valley of the River Lempa, in the eastern division of the State, and separated only by a number of smaller detached mountains from the Bay of Fonseca.

Approaching the Salvadorean coast upon any of the steamers which run there, one is confronted with no fewer than eleven great volcanoes, which literally bristle along the east of the plateau which has been mentioned as intervening between the valley of the Lempa and the sea. As a boy and a keen philatelist, I always wondered why Salvador postage-stamps had a group of three active and terrible-looking volcanoes upon their faces. When I visited that country for the first time I understood. The long row of sentinels, grim, yet extraordinarily beautiful, form a right line from north-west to south-east, accurately coinciding with the great line of volcanic action which is clearly defined from Mexico to Peru. Commencing on the side of Guatemala their order is as follows: Apaneca, Santa Ana, Izalco, San Salvador, San Vicente, Usulután, Tecapa, Zacatecoluca, Chinameca, San Miguel, and Conchagua. There are others of lesser note, besides a family of extinct volcanoes, whose craters are sometimes filled with water, as well as numerous volcanic vents or "blow-holes," which the natives not inaptly call infiernillos, i.e., "little hells!" Even the apparently harmless and beautiful island of Tigre, which occupies the centre of the Bay of Fonseca, and a veritable picture of scenic grandeur, is a slumbering volcano, and has a history at once interesting and terrifying. The memorable Cosieguina, El Viejo, Felica, and Momotombo, in Nicaragua, face El Tigre on the other side.

The most beautiful of the Republic's many volcanic lakes is that of Ilopango, on the borders of which is situated the village of the same name, with a scattered population of between 1,400 and 1,500 people. The lake is some 6·85 miles long from west to east, about 5·11 miles wide, with an area of 25·1 square miles and a developed shore-line of 28·8 miles. The late President of the Republic, General Fernando Figueroa, was kind enough to place a steam-launch at my disposal, which enabled me to see the lake under the most favourable auspices, and in company with his nephew, Señor Angulo, I spent several interesting hours upon its calm, deep green surface. This lake has been the scene of numerous remarkable volcanic phenomena, the most recent of which took place a few weeks after my visit, and resulted in the centre islands, which were one of its most charming features, completely disappearing beneath the surface of its waters.

In January, 1880, the lake had also been the scene of a severe earthquake, which shook the entire surrounding country. Upon this occasion the waters suddenly rose about 4 feet above their usual level, and, flowing into the bed of the Jibóa—a stream which forms the usual outlet from the lake—increased it to the proportions of a broad and raging river, which soon made for itself a channel from 30 to 35 feet in depth. A rapid subsidence in the level of the lake was thus produced, and by March 6 in the same year the surface was 34 feet below its maximum. It was then that the rugged and stony island, about 500 feet in diameter, and which I have mentioned above, suddenly rose over the waters, reaching to a height of 150 feet above the level of the lake and being surrounded by several smaller islands, the waters all around becoming intensely hot. Previous to this extraordinary phenomenon, the bottom of the lake, so I was informed, had been gradually rising, and so violent was the flood when it occurred, that the small village of Atuscatla, near the outlet, was entirely destroyed.

Some years afterwards—namely, in February, 1892—while some severe earthquakes were taking place in Guatemala, their reflex was felt in the same spot—Atuscatla, on Lake Ilopango—Lieutenant Hill, who was then making investigations in Salvador on behalf of the United States Government, declaring that a shock was felt lasting fifteen seconds, and then continued with gradually decreasing force for a further one minute and five seconds.

When I was a visitor to Ilopango, there were two extremely comfortable hotels to be found on the banks, both having some very convenient bathing facilities to offer, and each having a beautiful garden attached. During the hot season, and upon Sundays and all holidays, these hotels are crowded with visitors from San Salvador, who ride out in parties, there being no other mode of reaching the lake. The road is a truly beautiful one, travellers crossing numerous streams and passing through shady, blossom-covered woods, containing many magnificent trees. By moonlight this route appears remarkably picturesque, and many people prefer to make the journey thus. Ilopango is some four hours' ride from the capital, and the journey across the lake usually occupies another two or three hours in an electric or naphtha launch. The hotels and bathing establishments, however, are located upon the side of the lake nearest to San Salvador.

The outline of the beautiful Ilopango Lake, when last surveyed, was quite accurately determined by means of intersections from the various topographical stations. Its surface in January, 1893, was found to be 1,370 feet (417·6 metres) above the sea. Its actual depth the surveyors had no means of ascertaining; its basin, however, is far below the general level of the surrounding ridges, which are all volcanic. Those to the north and east are formed of layers of sand and ashes partially compacted, yellowish in colour, and throwing out spurs towards the lake, terminating in steep bluffs. West of the lake the ground rises to the San Jacinto Hills; but the soft material composing it has been eroded into a maze of sharp ridges and deep gulches. The eastern hills are also broken into a succession of knife-like ridges.

Professor Goodyear, a famous American geologist, has said that the southern hills consist entirely of volcanic materials, but are of a much harder and firmer structure than those of the north and east, being composed largely of conglomerates containing boulders well cemented together. The lake is situated upon the volcanic axis of the country, and has long been the seat of numerous earthquakes and active volcanic phenomena, the most violent of recent times being those of 1879 and 1880. According to the same Professor Goodyear, there was a series of earthquake shocks, some of great violence, extending from December 22 to January 12, 1880, followed by a period of quiet until the night of January 20, when, after a series of loud reports and explosions, followed by violent hissings and dense clouds of steam, a mass of volcanic rock rose from the centre of the lake to a height of 58 feet (17·7 metres). Previous to this the bottom of the lake had been gradually rising until January 11, and the waters had been lifted to maximum height of 5·2 feet above their usual level. This sudden rise converted the outlet from a small stream—not over 20 feet wide and a foot deep, and with a current of two or three miles per hour—into a raging torrent discharging as much water as a great river. So violent was the flood that the small village of Atuscatla, situated near the outlet, was as stated, destroyed, and the channel was so widened and deepened that the waters of the lake fell 38·6 feet (11·75 metres) from the highest point reached, or 33·4 feet (10·17 metres) below their original level. During the time of this flood the Rio Jibóa, which carries off the waters of the lake, was enormously swollen and became very muddy, and in the lower portion overflowed its banks, flooding broad tracts of the plain. By the middle of February, 1880, the lake adjusted itself to the new conditions, and since that time, until the visitation of last year (1910), there had been no great change in its level; the variations at present going on are due to the excess of precipitation during the rainy months over that which is prevalent in the dry season.

Anyone who had seen Salvador, say, ten years ago, and who revisited it to-day, would assuredly be impressed by the great improvement which has taken place in, and the extension of, both the main and sub-roads of the Republic. Whereas in former times the roads were only passable in the dry season, and were even then very trying to travellers on account of the dust encountered, while in the wet season they became mere morasses, to-day they are in the majority of cases so well built and so carefully maintained that even in the wet season of the year it is quite possible to use them.

This great improvement has been brought about mainly by the enterprise of the late President, General Fernando Figueroa, who evinced a keen and consistent interest in opening up new means of communication by making public roadways of enduring worth, his excellent work being actively continued by his present successor.