In New Granada; Or, Heroes and Patriots

by William Henry Giles Kingston

While we ride along, I will describe the region and the city in which I was born, and some of the principal events which had occurred since my father settled there, up to the present time.

In the western half of New Granada are three ranges of lofty mountains, into which the main branch of the Andes is divided, extending from Quito northwards to the Caribbean Sea; a fourth branch, running close to the shores of the Pacific, extends towards the Isthmus of Panama. These four ranges form three valleys, elevated, however, a considerable distance above the sea. Throughout that to the east runs the magnificent river Magdalena; the next is watered by the Cauca, of equal length; and the third valley by the Atrato, of less extent, which runs into the Gulf of Darien. At the head of the centre valley—that of the Cauca—is situated Popayan, the capital of the province of the same name, in the midst of a beautiful plain, almost surrounded by two streams, which finish their course about a league below it, when they fall into the fine river Cauca. This river then runs to the northward through the rich and charming valley of the Cauca. Nothing can be more delicious than the climate of this region, the inhabitants being never oppressed by excessive heat, or annoyed by extreme cold. Rain, however, falls during the last three months of the year, and also in April and May; but even at that period the mornings are fine, as the showers seldom come on until two or three o’clock in the afternoon, and continue during the night. The plain, or I may call it the wide valley of

Popayan, lies between two ranges of lofty mountains. On one side are the Cordilleras, with Purace, eternally covered with snow, rising above them; and on the west side is another range, which separates the valley from the province of Buenaventura. In the midst, surrounded by trees, appears Popayan, with its numerous churches and large convents, distinguished at a considerable distance by their whiteness. It is one of the most ancient towns in that part of the continent. Its founders, companions of Sebastian Belalcazar, made it the capital of the province, establishing a bishopric, a college, and numerous religious institutions. Although its buildings might not be greatly admired in Europe, the inhabitants are proud of them; and justly so, when the difficulties under which they were erected are remembered. Every article used in their construction had to be brought either on the backs of men or mules; and there were few native craftsmen capable of performing the necessary work. Many families proud of their ancient descent were settled in the town, and its society was therefore superior to that of any of the surrounding places. In Popayan is a large square, of which I shall have to speak by-and-by, with the cathedral on one side, and the residences of some of the principal people in the town occupying the other sides. There were, besides, several churches, four convents, and two nunneries. To the north of the city, towards the Cauca, is the handsomest bridge in that part of the country. From the town, in the early part of the morning, when the sun shines on them, can be seen the Cordilleras of Chicquio, and at a less distance rises the Paramos of Puxana and Soltana, presenting a magnificent appearance.

This description may give a faint idea of the beautiful scenery amid which I was born. Although I was accustomed to it from my earliest days, I nevertheless admired it more and more as I grew older. Though my father and Richard Duffield had not intended to settle in America when they married, their wives, who were attached to the country, exerted all their influence to induce them to stay, so they finally made up their minds to abandon their native land. The doctor, having been so long a prisoner, was supposed to be dead, and he had no difficulty in retiring from the service; while the midshipman very easily discharged himself.

At the time I speak of, Liberal principles had been making rapid progress in the country among persons of all ranks. For years the colony had groaned under the tyranny and narrow-minded policy of the mother country. As she produced wine, oil, and silk, the inhabitants of New Granada and Venezuela were not allowed to cultivate either the vine, the olive, or the mulberry, under the idea that they would thus be compelled to consume the produce of Spain. Attempts were made from time to time to establish manufactories, which were invariably destroyed by the orders of the Spanish Government. At length, when Spain herself became enslaved by the French, the colonists took the opportunity of throwing off the galling yoke, and New Granada and Venezuela declared their independence. The Spanish standard was cut down and destroyed, while the tricoloured flag was hoisted in numerous towns and fortresses. The inhabitants of the two vice-royalties flew to arms, and, under the leadership of General Miranda, the Royalists were defeated in Venezuela. No sooner, however, had Spain been liberated by the success of the British arms over Napoleon’s generals in the Peninsula, than she made use of her recovered liberty again to enthral the hapless colonists. Simon Bolivar, who had hitherto taken no active part in the revolution, was at length won over to espouse the cause of Freedom; and a congress having been assembled at Caracas to organise a new Government for the state of Venezuela, he proceeded to England for the purpose of endeavouring to induce the British Cabinet to aid the cause of Liberty. Finding, however, that the English had resolved on maintaining a strict neutrality, though they had ample excuses for interfering in the cause of humanity, he returned in disgust to Caracas.

Sometimes success attended the Patriot arms, sometimes the Royalists were victorious. At length a dreadful earthquake occurred. I remember it well. Fear was inspired by the terrible destruction it caused to life and property. In the three cities of Caracas, La Guayra, and Merida, twenty thousand persons perished. The priests, monks, and friars, who in general were the main supporters of Spanish tyranny, knowing that with the advancement of Liberal principles their power would be decreased, if not overthrown, declared this catastrophe to be a judgment on the revolutionists. About twelve hundred of the Royalist prisoners who were confined in the fortress of Puerto Cabello, of which Bolivar was then commandant, having broken loose, murdered some of the garrison, and by the treachery of the officer on guard took possession of the citadel. Bolivar, with a band of followers, narrowly escaped destruction; and General Miranda, who was at Vittoria, on hearing that this important place, with all its stores, arms, and ammunition, was deserted, capitulated in despair to Monteverde, the Royalist general; and being sent in irons to Spain, he there died—shortly afterwards—in a dungeon.

The whole country was now once more entirely in the hands of the Royalists, who inflicted the most fearful cruelties on the hapless inhabitants. On pretexts the most trivial, old men, women, and children were arrested, their houses plundered, and they themselves maimed in the most horrible way, or massacred as rebels.

I have been speaking chiefly of Venezuela. The Liberals in New Granada suffered similar reverses; but, in consequence of the inaccessible nature of many parts of the country, the Patriots, although defeated, were able to take refuge in positions from which they could not be driven by the Spaniards; and many, under various leaders, remained in arms, prepared for the moment when they might again attack the Royalists with a prospect of success, and drive them, as they had vowed to do, from the country.

The bloodthirsty monster, General Murillo, had at this time his headquarters at Santa Fé de Bogotà, the capital of New Granada. Our own city of Popayan had not altogether escaped, but it was at present comparatively tranquil, though people lived in dread of what a day might bring forth. Murillo was attempting to stamp out Liberal principles by the destruction of every man of science and education in the country, being well aware that ignorance and superstition were the strongest supporters of Spanish tyranny. My father, as a medical man and an English subject, hoped to escape annoyance; though our uncle, Dr Cazalla, owing to his known Liberal principles and scientific attainments, was well aware that his position was critical in the extreme. Though on his guard, he was too bold to fly. My father often urged him to leave the country, but his reply was, “I will remain, to forward, by every means in my power, the cause of liberty, and endeavour to advance the true liberties of the people among whom I live.” My father steadily pursued his professional duties, attending equally on the Royalists and Liberals, by both of whom he was highly esteemed,—though those who knew him best were well aware that his sympathies were all on the side of Freedom.