Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2016 with funding from Boston Library Consortium Member Libraries https://archive.org/details/fouryearsamongspOOhass FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH- AMERICANS. By f. hassaurek, LATE U. S. MINISTER RESIDENT TO THE REPUBLIC OF ECUADOR. AUTHOR OF “SECRET OF THE ANDES,” ETC. FOURTH EDITION. CINCINNATI: ROBERT CLARKE & CO. 1892. BOSTON COLLEGE LIBRARY CHESTNUT HILL, MASS. NOV 1 5 1986 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by F. IIassaurek, Id the Clerk’s Office of the District Court for the District of Ohio F 362525 il \M ■ H PREFACE. Considering the rapid multiplication of books in every branch of science and literature, it has always been my opinion that no new book should be written unless the author nas something new to say, or unless he can present something already known in a new and original light. Of Spanish-America but little is known among us at present. Our reading public probably knows more of China or Japan, than of such countries as the interior of Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, and Bolivia. Scientific men of great celebrity have acquainted us with the geographical and geological features of the Andean valleys and table-lands ; but they have told us but little concerning the character, the social and domestic life, the political institutions and troubles of the inhabitants. In this respect, I believe I have had, to a great extent, an unexplored field before me ; and 1 flatter myself that the following pages contain many observations and valuable items of ethnological and his- torical information which cannot be found in any of the comparatively few English books on Spanish-Amer- IV PREFACE Tliis is not a book of travels. The impressions of a traveller in a foreign country, who passes from one place to another, taking hasty notes of undigested observations, are often erroneous, ^anj__gmiyrallyjmre^ liable. It is mecessatyToT Tive amonc* a peop le, to speak their language, to know their history and litera- ture', to study their customs, and to associate with them continually, in order to be able to write a book about them which those who are thoroughly familiar with the subject will not throw aside as presumptuous and superficial. I have left many warm friends in South America, friends whose uniform courtesy, attention, and kindness to me, I shall never cease to appreciate. Some of them, I am afraid, will object to certain passages in this book as an uncharitable return of hospitality. But to do good, the truth must be told. Vattel very properly pronounces it to be the duty of every nation to know itself. To acquire a sufficient knowledge of itself, however, a nation should wish occasionally to u see itself as others see it.” I have “ extenuated nothing,” but I have “ set down naught in malice.” I feel for those unfortunate countries, and the memory of the friends I have left there shall ever be dearly treasured up in my heart. But if the following pages were to have any merit, I had to describe South America as I found it and not as I wished it to be. THE AUTHOR. Cincinnati, August 23 d, 1867. PREFACE TO THIRD EDITION. That after a lapse of eleven years a demand should have arisen for a new edition of this work, is highly gratifying, not only to the vanity of the author, but also as a symptom of reviving interest in the countries known under the name of Spanish America. Those countries have never received their legitimate share of public attention. And yet they abound in problems of absorbing interest and importance for the scientist, the speculative philosopher, and the practical business man. Their past, and especially that of Ecuador and Peru, furnishes inexhaustible mines of tragic materials for the poet, the novelist, or the historian. Some of those materials I have worked into a romance, “ The Secret of the Andes' ' published in 1879, the flattering recep- tion of which may have contributed to cause the pres- ent demand for a new edition of this book. Since the publication of the first and second editions, in 1869 and 1870, the Republic of Ecuador has been vis- ited by violent earthquakes, both physical and political. Ex-President Garcia Moreno, who plays an important part in the following pages, has been assassinated, and a new generation has stepped into the places of those with whom it had been my lot to associate. But the changes have been only in name. The essential condi- tion of society has remained the same, and will so re- main, until time and in-migration sh all change the ele- ments Q j^v^ich th at socieryM^ this rea- son it has not been necessarjHRT make any changes or corrections in the book which is now re-submitted to the American public. The Author. Cincinnati, March 31, 1881. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. PAGI Arrival in Ecuador. — The City of Guayaquil. — Its Aspect. — North American Enterprise. — Old and New City. — Wooden Buildings. — Palm-trees, Goats, and Gallinazos. — Fortifications and Barracks. — Balsas — A Floating Population. — Climate and Temperature. — Dry and Rainy Season. — Distant View of Mount Chimborazo 1 CHAPTER II. Ancient History of Guayaquil. — Pirates and Buccaneers. — Confla- grations. — Population and Commerce. — Imports and Exports. — Productiveness of the Country. — Want of Roads. — Ida Pfeiffer. — Preparations for the Journey to the Interior. — Trip up the River to Bodegas. — A Tropical Paradise. — Thoughts of Home . 9 CHAPTER III. Alligators. — The Town of Babalioj'o, or Bodegas. — Hiring Horses. — Arrieros. — Galled and Jaded Beasts. — Packing. — Indian En- durance. — The Journey. — The Tropical Forest. — No Great Race has ever sprung from the Tropics. — Savaneta. — Description of Houses on the Road. — Punta Plavas. — Camellones or Camels’ Backs — Nights in the Forest. — Mysterious Noises. — Mata Blanca. — Pisagua. — A Horrid Road. — Ascending the Cordillera. — Jorje. — Cuesta de Angas. — Camino Real. — Fating Lice. — Emerging from the Tropics. — Superstition. — View from Mt. Pizcurcu. — A Forgotten Corner of the World. — A Dangerous Descent. — Villages in the Valley of Chimbo. — The Polite “ Jefe Politico.” — Socabon. — Llamas. — The 'Town of Guaranda. — Change Horses. — Preparations for passing Chimborazo . . 22 CHAPTER IV. Passage of Ml. Chimborazo. — A Visit to the Region of Clouds and Storms. — View of the Mountain. — The Arena!. — Human Rem- iniscences and Monuments in the Desert of Sand and Snow. — VI CONTENTS. PAOK What a Paramo is. — Its Terrors. — Chuquipoyo. — The Hacienda of Chimborazo. — A Dreary Resting -place. — View from Chuqui- poyo. — The City of Kiobamba in the Distance. — Earthquakes and Volcanoes. — Mt. Sangai — Rains of Ashes. — Mt. Altar. — Mt. Carguairazo. — The Paramo of Sanancajas. — Descent from the Mountain Heath. — Reappearance of Vegetation. — The Vil- lage of Mocha . . 50 CHAPTER V. From Mocha to Ambato. — The Volcano Tunguragua. — The Towns of Ambato and Latacunga. — Fleas. — The Volcano Cotopaxi — Earthquakes and Prophecies. — A Cold Legend. — The Treasure of Atahuallpa — The Testament of Valverde. — His Derrotero. — Mt. Uiuisa. — The Plain and Village of Mulalu. — Description of a Farm-Building. — Signs of General Decay. — The Hill of Callo. — The Footprints of St. Bartholomew the Apostle. — Inca Ruins. — The Paramo of Tiupullo. — The ‘‘Accursed Tree.” — Rumina- gui and other Mountains. — The Villages of Machachi and Tam- bi:lo. — An Ecuadorian Tavern. — End of our Journey . . 08 CHAPTER VI. Altitude of Quito. — Mt. Pichincha. — Its Height. — The Crater. — The Peaks of Pichincha. — Eruptions. — The French Academi- cians. — Humboldt, Colonel Hall, and Boussingault. — Dr. Gabriel Garcia Moreno’s Three Descents to the Bottom of the Crater. — Ti.e Valley and Village of Lloa. — An American Artist in the Crater. — My Visits to it. — View from the Summit of Pichincha. — Pumice-stone. — Temperature. — Approaches to Quito. — Ana- Quito, the Battle-Field — Turubamba — Mt. Panecillo. — The City viewed from the Surrounding Hills. — A Retrospect . . 91 CHAPTER VII. Quito. — Appearance of the City. — Crowds in the Streets. — Streets and Houses. — Queer Mode of Cooking. — Want of Hotels. — A Curate’s Idea of the Obligation of Promises. — Traits of Native Character. — Want of Cleanliness. — Incidents. — Excellent Cli- mate. — Mean Temperature. — No Diseases or Insects. — The Rain}' Season. — Fruits and Flowers. — Earth’s Paradise . . 104 CHAPTER VIII. Population. — The Whites. — Aristocratic Traditions. — Ancient No- bility. — Prejudice against Labor. — Early Marriages. — Boy- Husbands. — No Spirit of Association. — Mixed Races. — Cholas and Bolziconas. — Servants. — Huasicamas. — Indian Wives. — Laundresses. — Longas, Guambras, and Guinazhiscas. — Ama de CONTENTS. vii PAGE Llaves. — Marketing. — Matrimonial Relations. — An Incident. — Indian Humility. — Other Traits of Indian Character. — Politeness of the Rabble. — Spanish-American Courtesy. — A Lady’s Mes- sage to a Friend 121 CHAPTER IX. Spanish Mode of Colonization. — Fortifications and Convents. — Ar- chitecture of Quito. — The Moorish Style. — Public Buildings. — Churches. — Nunneries. — The Convent of San Francisco. — Its Painted Miracles. — Interesting Specimens. — The Praying Lamb. — The Chapel of Catufa. — A Romantic Legend. — The Treasures of Rumifiagui. — A Pretended Pact with the Prince of Darkness. — La Capilla del Robo. — Another Legend. — The Parish Church of San Roque — Flagellation. — The Tejar, or La Recoleta de la Merced. — Religious Exercises in Lent. — Still another Legend. — Indian Reticence. — Burving-places. — How the Poor bury their Children. — Administering the Last Sacraments. — Religious Pro- cessions. — Semana Santa. — Holy Thursday and Good Friday. — Splendid Illumination of the Churches. — A Descendimiento. — A Sermon accompanied by a Puppet-show* — Its Effect on the Au- dience. — A Portable Image of the Lord, and its Travels to the Coast. — Christmas. — Misa de Gallos. — The Clergy. — Ignorance and Immorality of the Monks. — The Curates. — List of Convents and Nunneries. — Fees of Curates. — Divisions of Caste . . 137 CHAPTER X. Social Life in the Ecuadorian Capital. — The Ladies. — High Opin- ion of France. — The Populace believes every Foreigner to be a Frenchman. — Female Morality. — The General Prejudice un- founded. — Female Politicians and Conspirators. — Educational. — Literary Dependence of Spain on France. — Want of Newspapers. — Sisters of the “Heart of .Jesus.’’ — Music. — The Diplomatic Corps. — Foreigners. — Exe I of the Ancles, are less liable to such attacks than foreigners. The battle of Pichincha, which was fought on an elevation of nearly 11,000 feet above the level of the sea, the life in cities like Bogota, Potosi, La Paz, Micuipampa, and others, which reach a height of two thousand six hundred to four thousand French metres ; the strength and agility of the bull-fighters in Quito, and the nights spent by young people in danc- ing and revelry in places almost as high as Mont Blanc, where the celebrated Saussure had scarcely strength enough to consult his instruments, while his guides, hardy montagnards , fainted around him, are unmistakable proofs that man may accustom himself to the rarefied air of the highest mountains. After passing the arenal, which is about half a league across, our descent commences. At a water-fall Qchorrera) not very far from the arenal, the road divides, one branch leading to Riobamba, and the other, which we will take, to Mocha and Ambafo. We have now fairly entered the region of the paramos. Paramos, properly speaking, are the highest plains or heaths of the Cordillera, covered with high tufts of long and dry grass, which the natives call “pay a ” 1 (straw). A paramo, therefore, is frequently called a “ pajonal” Its aspect is dreary and cheerless in the extreme. But paramos may also prove dangerous to l “ A species of Stipa, with feather-like, silvery panicles, tinged with rose, which forms the mass of the vegetation on the paramo. This grass affords excellent thatch. It is also extensively used in packing, and along all the higher grounds it is almost the only material for fuel. Between the hassocks, especially when there are slight declivities, there is an interesting sub-alpine vegetation. A dense grassy turf is enameled with flowers, — white, yellow, red, and purple, which seem to spring direct from the ground.” — Richard Spruce, Notes of a Visit to the Chinchona Forests , on the Western Slope of the Quitenian Andes. I may add here that the paramo grass is very good feed for cattle, which stray up into the highest regions, wading up to the knee in the freezing swamps and marshes. 58 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH-AMERICANS. travellers. Winds laden with icy vapors blow over them with tremendous violence, when as the natives call it, the paramo “ se pone bravo ” (gets wild). Dense fogs frequently envelop man and beast ; dark- ness covers the earth and conceals every trace of the road ; snow, hail, or sleet comes down unmercifully ; and often the traveller loses his way and wanders helplessly over endless heaths. But this is not the worst ; when worn out with fatigue and hunger, be- numbed with cold and unable to urge on his jaded mules, he dismounts and sits down to recover his ex- hausted strength, his stomach soon becomes affected as if at sea ; his blood ceases to circulate, his muscles grow stiff, and he expires with a ghastly smile upon his features. Travellers thus found dead in these inhospi- table regions, are said to be emparamados. Still the Paramo of Chimborazo is not reputed to be very dangerous. The fiercest paramo in Ecuador is that of Azuay, on the road from Riobamba to Cuenca . 1 1 “ At Sitan, properly speaking, begins the Paramo of Azua v v, the tomb of a great number of travellers. When the wind blows there, it brings with it such a quantity of hail and snow that the air is darkened ; the traveller, up to his knees in water, is struck with cold 5 he feels his limbs grow stiff, and often loses the use of them, — if he has the good fortune to escape with life. On the Azuay is a pool of about seventy varas in length (one hundred and eighty feet). The water of this pond is at 9° R. above zero. Further on is another of five or six hundred varas long and from two to three hurdred wide. Near these commences the plain of Puval, danger- ous on account of the deep marshes there met with. At the extremity of the Puyal are the ruins of a palace of the Incas. It is built of stone with- out cement. The Indians evinced a very singular taste in the choice of places where they constructed their pleasure houses, since during eight months of the year there is continued hail and rain here.” — Caldas, Semanario de la Nueva Granada , Paris, 1849. I do not believe that the ruins to which Caldas refers were those of a palace or pleasure-house. It is more probable that the building was a tambo , or resting-place, for the accommodation of royal or noble travellers. The Incas evinced more prudence and humanity by erecting buildings for the use of travellers in theauost inhospitable parts of the road, than their Spanish successors, who did not think of building even a common earth hut on such horrible passes as the Paramo of Azuay. THE WILDERNESS. 59 The Paramo of the Puyal, on the direct road from Riobamba to Santiago de Cliimbo, is also said to be very dangerous. In October, 1862, I passed it in a perfect calm. I was struck with the great number of condors I saw there. But let us continue our journey. Beautiful and romantic as the vegetation of Chimborazo is on its western side, so dreary and melancholy does it present itself on the eastern descent. The paramo grass, as I have already said, is our only companion, barren and gloomy mountains our only view. Up one hill-side and down another leads the monotonous road. Many a dreary heath has to be passed, many an icy rivulet ha; to be forded. No human habitation relieves the eye as far as the horizon extends. Now and then we see a cave or sheltered place under a protruding rock, where the Indian arrieros, when darkness overtakes them on their journeys, pass the night, shivering round a smoky fire of paramo grass, while their beasts are let loose to seek fodder for themselves. But with the exception of the miserable ensillada , not a hut or cottage greets us on the long road from the Pongo to Chuquipoyo. We are alone in the wilderness. If but a ruin, a mile- stone, a guide-post or a monument of some kind were to be seen ! “ Even the record of human vanity,” says Bayard Taylor, “ is preferable to the absence of any sign of man.” In the loneliest prairies of the West we are occasionally gladdened by a sign-post telling us to use “ Howe’s Cough Candy,” or we find “ Ayer’s Sar- saparilla ” painted on a decaying fence-rail ; but in this dreadful desert there is nothing to remind us of the cheer and comforts of civilization ; nothing to remind us even of the existence of man, except at long in- tervals droves of mules and asses, followed by bare- 60 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH— AMERICANS. footed arrieros, gliding along like spectral shadows of the life we left behind us. At last we reach the tambo, a solitary house called Chuquipoyo, and sometimes undeservedly styled the ‘ Hacienda of Chimborazo.” And what a miserable, gloomy, filthy, and cheerless place it is ! The Ecua- dorian tambos or stopping-places are all bad, but Chu- quipoyo deserves the crown of wretchedness. After the hardships of the day, and considering the eleva- tion of this tambo to be 12,540 feet above the level of the sea, one should expect to find at least a warm room with a pleasant chimney fire crackling in the grate, to forget the fatigues of the journey and the freezing pa- ramo outside. But even to the traveller who enters Chuquipoyo without the least expectation of comfort, it will prove a chilling disappointment. The court- yard is a knee-deep pool, steaming with the excrements of horses. No pavement leads through or around the yard. It is necessary to ride to the very door of the principal room to dismount without taking a bath of mud. The room itself is a horrid hole without win- dows. The country architecture of Ecuador despises ventilation and windows. Two old, dirty, and rickety bedsteads on one side, a stone bench to make beds on on the other, # and an old table, constitute the furni- ture. The flooring of bricks is broken through and rotting away ; the atmosphere of the room damp and cold ; the first and last coat of whitewash it ever re- ceived besmeared all over with inscriptions and obscene drawings, and the plaster crumbling down. Into this room men and women are huddled together to undress and sleep in each other’s presence. Those who find it crowded have the choice of a side room about eight by seven feet, also furnished with a bedstead, but with A DREAR V RESTING-PLACE. 61 the wall broken through at many places, through which the icy night air blows in unmercifully. The stench of horses and arrieros pervades the whole tam- bo. One wing of the building is half in ruins, leaving but a kitchen and the sleeping and store rooms of the hiayordomo (steward). The arrieros and their peones sleep in the court-yard in the open air. The cooking is done on the ground, in the unhandy, pointed pots of the interior. The only fuel is the grass of the paramo, which makes it necessary for the cook to fan and blow the fire continually. The supply of yerba for the horses is always insufficient. To travellers a few eggs and potatoes will sometimes be sold, but in nine cases out of ten, nothing is to be had, either for love or money. In short, a painter who would represent cheerlessness, ought to paint Chuquipoyo. Edgar A. Poe’s “ House of Usher,” or the “ Haunted House ” of Thomas Hood, are heavens of comfort in comparison with this detestable place. It was originally built by the government as a rest- ing-place for soldiers, and now belongs to a wealthy citizen of Riobamba, who, with little expense, might not only make it comfortable, but also profitable ; for who, in the midst of the cold and lonely desert of Chimborazo, would not gladly pay for a warm and cheerful room ? But as it is, it is a disgrace to its pro- prietor,^ disgrace and a reproach to Ecuador. After what I have said, it would be needless to de- scribe the night to which travellers are condemned. 1 cannot, however, refrain from relating an incident showing the stolid and uncharitable character of the Ecuadorian Indians. Travelling from Quito to Guay- aquil in 1863, 1 had left Ambato rather late in the day, and it was dark when I came into the neighborhood of 62 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH-AMERICANS. Chuquipoyo. My companions, one of them a member of a Spanish Scientific Commission, who were not familiar with the road, became apptehensive of having passed the tambo without seeing it, and infected me with their doubts. We had already resolved to turn back and proceed in the direction of Ambato until we should meet our arrieros, who were behind with the luggage, when aside from the road we saw a few Indians in the paramo, who had encamped themselves between the high hassocks of grass. We hailed them, telling them that we had lost the way, and asking them for the right direction to Chuquipoyo. But in- stead of answering us, they ran away, and hid them- selves in the high grass of the heath. All our halloo- ing, all our promises were in vain. The Indians would not come forward. Unwilling to expose ourselves longer than necessary to the chilling night air and in- creasing darkness, we made after them, found them after a short hunt, and compelled them to give us the right direction. o The view which on fine mornings presents itself from Chuquipoyo, is highly interesting. We descry the sandy valley and city of Riobamba, which name is connected with one of the most frightful geological revolutions known in the annals of mankind. The present city of Riobamba, nine thousand one hundred and eighty-nine feet above the level of the sea, is about three leagues distant from the site wher£ the old city stood, the ruins of which are yet visible among the humble buildings of the two contiguous villages of Cipatpa and Cajabamba. The old city, founded in T533, by Sebastian Benalcazar, the conqueror of Quito, suffered greatly by the earthquake of 1645 ; but on the 4th of February, 1797, it. was completely de- THE CITY OF RIOBAMBA. 63 stroyed. With the exception of four hundred and eighty who escaped, all the inhabitants perished. The shock was so fearful that the face of the country was entirely changed. A part of the mountain Cicalpa was torn from its base, crushing the city at its foot. “Mountains rose,” says Stephenson, “ where culti- vated valleys had existed ; rivers disappeared or changed their course, and plains usurped the place of mountains and ravines.” The site of the city was rent asunder, and a rivulet now flows through it which had not existed before. The surviving; inhabitants were unable to point out the spots where their houses had stood. Cal das, the Granadian naturalist, who visited the place shortly after the catastrophe, and while the new city was in process of erection in the plain of Tapi, says that many of the survivors still lingered around the ruins, unable to tear themselves from the frightful sepulchre of those they had loved. The new city, according to Villavicencio, 1 contains about 16,000 inhabitants, and several woolen factories. The chief productions of the district are wool, wheat, barley, potatoes, and European culinary vegetables. The streets of the town are broad and the houses low. They are built of adobes, and with the exception of those on the plaza, have but a ground-floor. The number of the churches seems to be in disproportion to the population. The place is very lifeless ; the stores a?e generally attended by saleswomen, and the\, men pass their time in idleness, gambling, or gossiping. To the east of Riobamba we discover the smoky summit of Sangai, which is probably the most active volcano on the globe. “ Since the day when it was first seen by the Spaniards,” says Mr. Spruce, “ it has 1 Geografia de laRepublica del Ecuador.. FOUR TEARS AMONG SPAN1SH-AMERICANS. 64 been in continual eruption, whereas other volcanoes have had their periods of repose ; but as it stands in the midst of uninhabited forests (for the village of Macas is at least two days’ journey away), its erup- tions rarely cause any damage to the dwellings of man. Its position is in the Eastern Cordillera, about 2° South, longitude 78° 33' West. It is crowned by a great breadth of perpetual snow, or rather of alternat- ing layers of snow and ashes, and even (it has been asserted) of modern trachyte. At Bodegas its explo- sions are often distinctly heard ; sometimes also at Guayaquil.” On the morning of the 24th of June, 1861, when I first arrived at Bodegas, the little steamer in which I had come had its deck completely covered with ashes, and ashes covered the foliage of the woods between Bodegas and Punta Playas. These ashes, or volcanic dust, had been thrown out by Mt. Sangai. The fall began on the 23d of June, and lasted for five days. On the 18th of July another shower of ashes reached Guayaquil, and fell as thick as drizzling rain. The explosions of the mountain sound like the dis- charges of cannon. Its height is 17,284 feet. Nearer to Riobamba is the beautiful Altar, 17,450 feet high. The Indians call it Capac Urcu. There is a tradition that it was once higher than Chimborazo, when after eight years of frightful eruptions, the walls, consumed by the volcanic activity within, could no longer support their own weight, and the top fell in. Since the discovery of the country by the Spaniards, no symptoms of volcanic activity have been observed. On the afternoon of a bright and beautiful October day in 1862, while travelling from Ambato to Rio- bamba, I had a most perfect view of Altar, Tungura- gua, Chimborazo, and other snow peaks. The Altar, MT. ALTAR. 65 however, enraptured me ; and for hours as I descended to, and rode through, the sandy plain of Tapi, my eye was fascinated by its wondrous peaks. The two highest peaks at its southern extremity appeared to my excited fancy like a king and queen seated on icy thrones, clad in long snowy robes, and looking down on their hoary court of minor rocks and crags, with calm and melancholy majesty. Sad and sorrowful seemed the queen as the rays of the setting sun lin- gered on her musing countenance. Perhaps she had come from more genial climes ; perhaps birds had caroled and flowers had smiled upon her happy child- hood, and now she must pass her dreary life speechless and motionless, as if charmed by an enchanter’s spell, at the cold side of her ioy consort. There Avas a mel- ancholy and resigned expression in Avhat I imagined to be her face. Perhaps she was another Blanche de Bourbon, sacrificed to some cruel Don Pedro of those cold and lofty realms, to which e\ r en the condor rarely elevates his soaring flight, and where not a leaf, not a flower, not even a vestige of a friendlier world breaks the deathlike loneliness. There all life is extinct ; vegetation has ceased ; the sweet notes of birds do not penetrate into those unattainable altitudes ; and save the storms of heaven, no other sound but the roaring of her fell neighbor Sangai, reaches the ear of the un- fortunate queen. In wonderful clearness the moun- tain rose before me, but soon clouds commenced to circle around it; mists and vapors gradually dreAV a thin veil over the majestic sight, and at last envious fogs interposed impenetrably betAveen the steady, soft, and melancholy look of the queen on high and the sympathizing Avanderer in the plain below. A few 5 66 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH-AMERICANS. minutes more and the apparition was gone, but the impression it left will never fade from my memory. Will my readers pardon these fantastic digressions ? I shall atone for them by at once continuing our jour- ney from Chuquipoyo. Our road now takes a north- erly direction, leading us into the dreary Paramo of Sanancajas. The wilderness here seems endless. Again the same monotonous heath, the same gloomy paramo grass, and no human habitation as far as the eye can reach. We are to make a new acquaintance, however. It is Carguairazo, the northern neighbor of Chimborazo, and so near the latter that the Indians call it “ Chimborazo Embra ,” the female Chimborazo. It is 15,664 feet high, and is also said to have been higher than Chim- borazo ; but on the 19th of June, 1698, its top fell in during a tremendous earthquake, which almost totally destroyed the villages of Mocha, Ambato, and Lata- - cunga. In Ambato sixteen hundred Indians and five hundred and fifty-six Spaniards were crushed by the falling houses, and in Latacunga so many persons per- ished, that, according to the official records kept in the escribania de hacienda , it became necessary to dig ditches for the purpose of burying the dead in heaps. 1 Since that horrible catastrophe, the mountain has given no important signs of volcanic activity. After passing two gloomy lakes or ponds, which must be of recent formation, as the road which for- merly passed over their sites is still visible under the water, we leave the paramo behind us at last. The 1 Pablo Herrera, Ensayo sobre la Historia de la Lifer at urn Ecuatoriana. The author carefully examined the archives of the municipalities of Lata- cunga and Quito, and extracted from them many valuable items of histor- ical information. See also Zimmermann, Die Wunder der Urwelt , Berlin, 1&56. Velasco, Historia del Reino de Quito, Quito, 1844. VILLAGE OF MOCHA. 67 character of the landscape changes as we descend ; a friendly vegetation reappears, and our heart rejoices at seeing green bushes, cultivated fields, and human habi- tations again. A steep descent to a mountain stream which must be passed, and a short ascent to the other side, leads us to the village of Mocha. In ancient times this was an important Indian town, frequently mentioned in the history of the conquest. Now it is a miserable, filthy, cold, and lifeless village, but greatly welcome after the dreariness of the paramo, and the hospitality of Chu- quipoyo. 1 It has a plaza, with an humble church, which is half in ruins ever since the earthquake of 1859. The traces of earthquakes are now bound to haunt us, whithersoever we may go. 1 With regard to taverns along the road, the first white settlers of the country were ahead of their present descendants. According to Herrera, taverns were established along the public highways every five or six leagues,. — Dec. v., 1. 10, cap. 11. Now the traveller must resort to wretched hovels in which, in many cases, he has to share his lodgings with his filthy hosts. It is fortunate, however, that, especially in the interior, his life and property are perfectly secure, for his hosts are harmless and inoffensive. CHAPTER V. From Mocha to Ainbato. — The Volcano Tunguragua. — The Towns of Ambato and Latacunga. —Fleas. — The Volcano Cotopaxi. — Earth quakes and Prophecies. — A Gold Legend. — The Treasure of Atahu- allpa. — The Testament of Valverde. — His Derrotero. — Mt. Ilinisa. — The Plain and Village of Mulalu. — Description of a Farm-Building. — Signs of General Decay. — The Hill of Callo. — The Footprints of St. Bartholomew the Apostle. — Inca Ruins. — The Paramo of Tiupullo. — The “ Accursed Tree.” — Ruminagui and other Mountains. — The Vil- lages of Machachi and Tambillo. — An Ecuadorian Tavern. — End of our Journey. The road from Mocha to Ambato leads through long rows and hedges of American Aloe, or Agava Ameri- cana, one of the most important and useful plants of the interior, of which I shall give a detailed account in a subsequent chapter. The . first part of the road leads through a fertile region, producing potatoes, wheat, barley, and other products of the temperate zone. The climate is delightful ; neither hot nor cold, though rather cool. The latter half of the road lies through a sandy and sterile country, producing scanty crops of maize, barley, pease, and lupines. The road seems to be buried under deep layers of light sand, and if there is a strong breeze, it drives clouds of un- welcome dust in the eyes of the traveller. To the southeast of the road, in clear weather, a charming view of Mt. Tunguragua may be enjoyed. This volcano, 16,514 feet high, is one of the most attractive and interesting mountains in Ecuador. Its form is that of a perfect cone, and while its highest THE TOWN OF AMBATO. 69 parts are covered with a long and splendid robe of snow, the sugar-cane grows at its base in the Valley of Banos. In my opinion, it is the most beautiful of all the snow peaks in the country. The town of Ambato is not visible from a distance. It lies in a caldron, and does not present itself before you are right above it. It is surrounded by steep and barren sandy mountains, almost without vegetation, but its aspect is very pleasing. It is a friendly green spot — a smiling oasis in a desert, with houses peeping through numberless gardens, orchards, and clover-fields. It is famous for its fruit. Tunas, granadillas, monster strawberries, which the natives call frutillas ; peaches, apricots, and apples, (the three latter species, however, of a very inferior quality) ; wild cherries ( cajpulis ), guavas, etc., grow in abundance. Being but 8567 feet above the level of the sea, 1 and protected by high mountains on all sides, its temperature is very agreea- ble, and a great deal milder than that of Quito. It may, indeed, boast of the climate of an eternal spring. Its population is estimated at eight thousand. It has several plazas and churches ; but the houses have sel- dom more than a ground-floor, with the exception of those on or in the neighborhood of the Plaza Mayor. The buildings are of sun-baked brick, and the better ones neatlv whitewashed. The gutters are in the cen- tre of the streets, and through some of them streams of limpid water flow. The only tolerable boots and shoes manufactured in the country are made here. The Cochineal, 2 too, is found in abundance in the 1 According to the measurement of Mr. Spruce. Dr. Jameson has it at 8540. 2 “ The name given by the Spaniards to this valuable insect is cochinilla , signifying a little pig, because it bears a resemblance to one ; in the satm manner as in some parts of England it is supposed that the wood-louse re- 70 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH-AMERICANS. leaves of the cactus, and collected by the natives for dyeing, although but little or no attention is paid to the cultivation of the cactus, or of the insect. Coarse woollen ponchos are also manufactured at a cheap rate. On market-days, especially on Sundays, the Plaza Mayor, with its motley crowd of Indians, in ponchos of all colors, presents a most lively and grotesque ap- pearance. The town is situated on the right bank of the river Ambato, along which many friendly haciendas extend. During the fruit season, about Christmas and New Year, Ambato is visited by many of the wealthy residents of Quito, who come to eat fruit and enjoy the mildness of the climate. There is much less rain at Ambato than at Quito and other places of the interior. On clear nights the fiery vapors of Mt. Co- topaxi are visible. The casa posada (tavern) which existed there during my time, was a miserable concern, the rooms full of dust, filth, and fleas, and the kitchen abominable. There were, as in all other taverns in the interior, bedsteads in the rooms, but no bedding, as travellers are expected to carry their own bedding with them. Ascending from the caldron in which Ambato is situate, we reach a broad table-land over which the road leads to Latacunga. The two principal branches sembles a hog. The cactus on which it feeds is not so prickly as the tuna which in the West Indies is called the prickly pear. The leaves are very green, as well as the rind of the fruit; but the inside is of a most beautiful red color, similar to that of the cochinilla. It is very palatable, and when eaten, communicates its own color to the urine Instead of killing the insect, after taking it from the cactus, by placing it in an earthen jar, and exposing it to a heat sufficiently strong to destroy its vitality, and then pieserving it in bags, as the Mexican Indians do, it is ground or bruised to the consistency of paste, and often adulterated with the juice of the fruit and flour.” — Stephenson. LATACUNGA. 71 of the Cordillera widen here, and allow us to view the country for miles around. The road lies through an endless prolongation of narrow lanes, formed by in- terminable hedges of aloes, magueys, and cacti. A beautiful heliotrope which grows among these hedges, casts fragrance on our path. Approaching Latacunga, the country becomes perfectly sterile ; the mountains are entirely arid, and dreary plains, covered with vol- canic sands and pumice-stone, indicate the neighbor- hood of the dreadful volcano Cotopaxi, which has caused so much suffering and destruction to this part of the country. The houses of the town of Latacunga, or as it was originally called Llactacunga , are built of pumice-stone, thrown out by the eruptions of Mt. Cotopaxi. They are almost all without an upper story, and present rather a gloomy appearance. The elevation of Lata- cunga is 9170 feet above the level of the sea, 1 and its climate, cold. It is seldom we see an inhabitant of the place without a cloak or a poncho. There is al- ways a tavern at Latacunga, but naturally, not with- out the chief production of the place — fleas. In fact, the streets and public squares of the town are filthy par excellence. Filth, according to a Spanish-Ameri- can authority, 2 is a characteristic trait of the province of Quito. Ida Pfeiffer says that after a night’s rest in Latacunga, she awoke with her skin marked all over with red spots, as if from an eruptive disease. The place is not one of business or enterprise. It is half in ruins, owing to the many earthquakes with which it has been visited. Some of the churches are down, and in slow process of reconstruction. The town lies at the foot of a little hill on which the old town 1 Jameson. Caldas. 72 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH-AMERICANS. and which is yet covered with ruins. In fact, Lata- cunga is the very image of decay, and the only celeb- rity it has acquired, it owes to its earthquakes, and to the pomp of its religious processions. Its population is estimated at 16,000, the great majority of whom are Indians. It was an important Indian town before the arrival of the Spaniards, and temples, palaces, and royal factories are said to have been constructed there by the great Inca Huaynacapac. After the conquest the Indian population was greatly reduced by the cruelty and avarice of the Spaniards. <£t present the Indians of Latacunga are famous for their mummeries and dances during semana santa (holy week), and between Christmas and New Year’s. To do honor to the occasion, they hire fancy dresses and jewels for these dances, at an expense which not only swallows up a whole year’s earnings, but generally in- creases the interminable debt for which they are held to B labor. The Indians of Latacunga, especially the women, are very ugly, but have beautiful teeth, of dazzling whiteness. 1 have already mentioned what Latacunga suffered from the earthquake which accompanied the falling in of the top of Mt. Carguairazo. Eight thousand per- sons are said to have perished on that occasion. Ac- cording to Father Velasco, 1 who carefully compiled and religiously believed in all the miraculous legends be could scrape together, this earthquake had been predicted seven years before it took place, in a sermon preached by Father Jose de Cases. He announced the catastrophe as a punishment for the immoral amusements, such as masquerades and bull-fights, with which the inhabitants were fond of celebrating the festi- 1 History of the Kingdom of Quito. EARTHQUAKES. 73 val of St. John. Father Velasco quotes from the ser- mon which the venerable prophet is said to have preached on that occasion. He makes him tell his in- credulous congregation that even the temple in which he stood would fall, with the exception of the column that sustained the pulpit. And so, the chronicler as- sures his readers, it happened. The Carmelite nuns, who had believed in the prophecy, and slept under tents in their garden for seven years after it, to avoid being crushed by the apprehended fall of their con- vent, were saved. According to the same credible authority, the earth- quake of 1757, by which four hundred lives were destroyed (two hundred persons were killed while lis- tening to a sermon in the Church of the Jesuits), had also been predicted thirteen years before it took place, by a Father Saldana, a Jesuit. In a country where superstition and fanaticism reign supreme, it is very customary to refer such catastrophes to previous pre- dictions. On the other hand, it requires no prophetic gift to predict calamities which, considering the vol- canic nature of the soil, are unfortunately of but too frequent occurrence, and may hourly be apprehended. If the believers in such prophecies are only patient enough to bear them in mind for seven or thirteen years, as in the above cases, it is very probable that they will live to witness their fulfillment. 1 1 “ The terror which they (earthquakes) cause excites the imagination even to a painful extent, and overbalancing the judgment, predisposes men to superstitious fancies. And what is highly curious is, that repetition, so far from blunting such feelings, strengthens them. In Peru, where earthquakes appear to be more common than in any other country, every succeeding visitation increases the general dismay, so that in some, cases the fear be- comes almost insupportable. The mind is thus constantly thrown into a timid and anxious state; and men, witnessing the most serious dangers, which they can neither avoid nor understand, become impressed with a 74 FOUR YEARS AMONG SFANISH-AMERICANS. In 1797, many of the churches and convents, rebuilt former visitations, were thrown down again, and many lives lost. This catastrophe was followed by another in 1802, and still another in 1859, the latter doing considerable damage. These earthquakes ( ter - remotos ) must be distinguished from those frequent shocks of more or less violence, and doing more or less damage, which the natives call temblor es. They occur too often to be noticed by the chroniclers ; 1 un- less we should find a seeond Santiago Perez Valencia, a New Granadian, who for forty years kept a register of all earthquakes and shocks which took place at Po- payan, the city where he resided. According to this register, Popayan experienced one hundred and two earthquakes between the years 1805 and 1841. 2 But earthquakes were not the only scourge of the town of Latacunga. The eruptions of Mt. Cotopaxi, which is but five leagues distant, formed another source of calamities, alarms, and apprehensions. This conviction of their own inability, and of the poverty of their own resources. In exactly the same proportion the imagination is aroused, and a belief in supernatural interference actively encouraged. Human power failing, su- perhuman power is called in, the mysterious and the invisible are believed to be present, and there grow up among the people those feelings of awe and of helplessness on Avhich all superstition is based, and without which no superstition can exist.” — Buckle’s History of Civilization in England , chap. ii. 1 “ In the earthquake of 1743 a Jesuit, Father Vallejo, was in the church when the roof fell in. He remained under the ruins till the third day, when he was taken out unhurt, but his mental faculties were so completely de- ranged, that he had forgotten his own name, nor did he recollect any of his most particular friends; and although a priesy^hen his breviary was presentedtohim.be could not read it, but appeared quite childish. He afterwards resided in the College of Quito, but his memory had so entirely abandoned him that he never could recollect any thing that had occurred to him before the earthquake, not even his studies, and he was afterwards taught to read, and to celebrate a vfftive mask.” — Stephenson. 2 Acosta’s Notes to his Spanish Translation of Boussingault's Scientific Voyages to the Ecuadorian Andes. “CABEZA DEL INCA. 75 famous mountain (18,890 feet high) is, on clear days, distinctly visible from Latacunga, Mulalu, Macha- chi, Tambillo, and all the higher points of Quito. Clad in a virgin robe of snow, it presents a most beau- tiful appearance. Its shape is that of a regular trun- cated cone, with aflat summit. The crater which opens on the top of the mountain being in uninterrupted ac- tivity, dense volumes of white and gray smoke are continually issuing from it, forming themselves into the most fantastic shapes. Generally the smoke assumes the form of an enormous tree with a trunk and branches, until a current of air tears it away from the mountain, and leaves it hovering in the sky, where it remains as a cloud. New formations will then slowly arise from the crater, and are, in their turn, carried away by aerial currents. At night the smoke issuing from the mountain forms a pillar of fire, and fire beams through the. clefts and fissures of the summit. The noise produced by the explosions of Cotopaxi resem- bles the rumbling of thunder, and may frequently be heard at Quito, and sometimes even further to the north. Fine sand and ashes are thrown out almost without intermission, and prove very detrimental to the cattle of the haciendas around the mountain. On its lower declivity, very near the snow limit, is a huge mass of rock called by some Gabeza del Inca , (the In- ca’s head,) according to an ancient tradition that it was the original summit of the mountain torn off and hurled down by an eruption on the day the Inca Ata- huallpa was executed by Pizarro at Cajamarca. Ac- cording to the information collected by Fray Marcos de Niza shortly after the event, that eruption took place the evening before tin; treacherous capture of Atahuallpa. 76 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH-AMERICANS. Since its second eruption, which is said to have taken place in 1534, Cotopaxi remained quiet for over two hundred years, until in the beginning of 1742 another great eruption took place, throwing out immense quan- tities of water and mud, and doing great damage to the bridges, fields, and cattle in. the neighborhood. 1 The third eruption took place on the. 9th of Decem- ber, 1742, and was preceded by a rumbling, subterra- nean noise, which lasted for several days. The roaring by which it was accompanied was heard at a distance of sixty leagues. Its principal feature was a great in- undation, which is generally ascribed to the enormous mass of snow which covered the mountain, and was suddenly melted by the heat of the crater and the streams of boiling water it threw out. The flood, breaking over the narrow bed of the river Latacunga, inundated the plain below, destroying many haciendas, a great number of cattle, and a part of the district of Latacunga called “ barrio caliente .” Whether such an inundation can really have proceeded from the melt- ing of the snow-cover of Cotopaxi, may perhaps be doubted. Father Velasco indignantly rejects the hy- pothesis; but he is no scientific authority. I have often seen the mountain either without snow, or with a part of its snow-cover suddenly missing, — a phe- nomenon which was almost always accompanied by a sudden rise of the river Latacunga. Whether the snow had melted in consequence of eruptions, or whether it had been completely covered by a layer t of brown cinders and scoria, I am unable to say. On the 4th of November, 1744, the fourth great 1 Dr. Pablo Herrera, the author of Ensnyo sob re la Historia de la Liter a- tura Ecuntorinna , has corrected the dates of the principal eruptions given by Velasco and adopted by Stephenson. I have adopted these corrections, as they are based on record evidence. ERUPTIONS OF COTOPAXI. 77 eruption took place. On this occasion the force of the explosion opened a deep cleft or ravine, which now leads from the western side of the crater to the foot of the mountain. The eruption was again accompanied by a most disastrous inundation. The flood reached the Plaza Mayor of Latacunga, filling the streets, court-yards and houses. February 2d, 1757. This was the third eruption followed by an inundation. Again the plains of Mu- lalu and Callo, and the town of Latacunga were devas- tated by a flood, and to increase the general dismay and terror, shocks of earthquake were felt, which threw down the churches of the town, and laid several adjoining villages in ruins. February 10th, 1766-. — There was no earthquake this time, but another inundation, produced by the waters which rushed down from Cotopaxi. The sand and ashes which were thrown out, destroyed the crops for many miles around. April 4th, 1768. — This explosion was announced by monstrous columns of smoke and fire, which were followed by an earthquake and a rain of ashes, ejected in such quantities that the sun was completely hidden, and for several hours the inhabitants of the neighbor- ing towns and villages were obliged to light candles and use lanterns in the daytime. The thatched roofs of many of the huts were crushed by the weight of the sand and ashes which had fallen on them. The noise of the falling sand resembled that of a heavy shower. The crops were destroyed, and a great num- ber of cattle perished. At the same time the roaring of the volcano was incessant. Such catastrophes always produce the usual manifestations of terror and superstition among the people. Persons rash out on 78 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH-AMERICANS. the streets, loudly confessing their sins ; the wooden statues of the saints are taken from the churches and carried around in procession ; psalms are chanted ; and during the earthquake of 1859 at Quito, persons threw themselves at the f )et of the archbishop, who was on the Plaza Mayor, and prayed to be absolved from their sins. January, 1803. — This eruption, too, was followed by a disastrous flood, causing great damage. Hum- boldt heard the noise of the explosions at Guayaquil, at a distance of fifty-two leagues in a straight line from the crater. It sounded like the continued dis- charges of a battery. From that time the mountain remained tolerably quiet until 1851, when the. flames went high, and slight eruptions took place, sending sand and ashes to its eastern side. In 1855 it threw out sand, a great quantity of water, and even stones, which it scattered over the plains of Mulalu and Callo. Since then it has been vomiting forth dense columns of smoke, accompanied now and then by a fine rain of ashes, but has done no damage, if we except the gradual sterilizing of the fields around it, to which the continued eruption of cinders and sand must inevitably lead. Latacunga is the starting-point of the most romantic gold legend circulating in Ecuador. As it has a better claim to consideration than any other of the many idle gold-stories in which the interior abounds, and as it has led to many adventurous expeditions into the mountains of Llanganati, where the treasure that enriched Yal verde is said to be buried, I will give a full account of it, availing myself of the information contained in a pamphlet written by Mr. Spruce, the THE LLANGANATI WILDERNESS. 79 celebrated botanist, who made a scientific exploration of tbe wilderness of Llanganati : — 1 “ In tbe month of July, 1857,” says Mr. Spruce, “ I reached Banos, where I learned that the snowy points I had observed from Paca-yacu, between Tun- guragua and Cotopaxi, were the summits of a group of mountains called Llanganati, from which ran down to the Pastasa the densely wooded ridges I saw to the northward. I was further informed that these moun- tains abounded in all sorts of metals, and that it was universally believed that the Incas had deposited an immense quantity of gold in an artificial lake on the flanks of one of the peaks, at the time of the Spanish Conquest. They spoke also of one Valverde, a Span- iard, who from being poor, had suddenly become very rich, which was attributed to his having married an Indian girl, whose father showed him where the treasure was hidden, and accompanied him on various occasions to bring away portions of it ; and that V al- verde returned to Spain, and when on his death-bed, bequeathed the secret of his riches to the King. Many expeditions, public and private, had been made to follow the track indicated by Valverde, but no one had succeeded in reaching its terminus ; and I spoke with two men at Banos who had accompanied such ex- peditions, and had nearly perished with cold and hun- ger on the paramo of Llanganati, where they had wandered for thirty days. The whole story seemed so impossible that I paid little attention to it, and I set to work to examine the vegetation of the adjacent vol- 1 Richard Spruce, On the Mountains of Llanganati in the Eastern Cordil- lera of the Quitenian Andes , illustrated by a map constructed by the late Don Atanasio Guzman; Read before the Royal Geographical Society of London , on the 12 th March , 1860. 80 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH-AMERICANS. cano Tunguramia, at whose northeastern foot the vil- lage of Bauos is situated. 44 In the summers of the years 1858 and 1859 I visited Quito and various points in the Western Cor- dillera, and for many months the country was so inse- cure on account of internal dissensions, that I could not leave Ambato and Riobamba, where my goods were deposited, for more than a few days together. I obtained, however, indisputable evidence that the 4 Derrotero,’ or guide to Llanganati, of Valverde, had been sent by the King of Spain to the Corregidors of Tacunga and Ambato, along with a 4 Cedula Real,' commanding those functionaries to use every diligence in seeking out the treasure of the Incas. That one ex- pedition had been headed by the Corregidor of Ta- cunga in person, accompanied by a friar, Padre Longo, of considerable literary reputation. The 4 Derrotero ’ (guide) was found to correspond so exactly with the actual localities, that only a person intimately acquainted with them could have drawn it up ; and that it could have been fabricated by any other person who was never out of Spain, was an impossibility. This expe- dition had nearly reached the end of the route, when one evening the Padre Longo disappeared mysteri- ously, and no traces of him could be discovered ; so that whether he had fallen into a ravine near which' they were encamped, or into one of the morasses which abound all over that region, is to this day un- known. After searching: in vain for the Padre foi some days, the expedition returned, without having accomplished its object. 44 The 4 Cedula Real ’ and 4 Derrotero ’ were de- posited in the archives of Tacunga, whence they dis- appeared about twenty years ago. So many people THE GOLD OF LLANGANATI. 81 were admitted to copy them, that at last some one, not content with a copy, carried off the original. I have secured a copy of the 4 Derrotero,’ bearing date Au- gust 14, 1827, but I can meet with no one who recol • lects the date of the original documents. u I also ascertained that a botanist, Don Atanasio Guzman, who resided some time in the town of Pillaro, and lost his life by an accident near the town of Patate, had headed many expeditions in quest of the gold of Llanganati. He also made the map of the Llanganatis which is prefixed to this sketch. Guzman and his companions, although they found no deposits of gold, came on the mouths of several silver and copper mines which had been worked in the time of the Incas, and ascertained the existence of other metals and minerals. They began to work the* mines, at first with ardor, which soon, however, cooled down, partly in conse- quence of intestine quarrels, but chiefly because they became disgusted with that slow mode of acquiring wealth, when there was molten gold supposed to be hidden close by ; and so the mines were at length all abandoned. This is supposed to have taken place in the early part of the present century, but the exact date I can by no means ascertain. Guzman is reported to have met with Humboldt, and to have shown his drawings of plants* and animals to that prince of trav- ellers. He died about 1806 or 1808, in the Valley of Seytu, about four leagues distant from Ambato, at a small farm-house now called Seytillo. He was a som- nambulist, and having one night walked out of the house while asleep, he fell down a steep place, and so perished.” Mr. Spruce then proceeds to criticise the map of Guzman, and adds a translation of the “ Derrotero,” 6 * 82 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH-AMERICANS. which, together with some necessary explanations, will be found in the appendix to this work. After this he gives an account of his own exploration of the road pointed out by the 44 guide,” the description of which perfectly corresponds to the actual locality, until the mountain Margasitas is reached. 44 Beyond this,” he continues, u no one has been able to proceed with cer- tainty. The 4 Derrotero ’ directs it to be left on the left hand, but the explanatory hieroglyph ( 4 and I warn thee that thou must go round it in this fashion ^ ’) puzzles every body, as it seems to leave the mountain on the right. Accordingly, nearly all who have at- tempted to follow the 4 Derrotero,’ have gone to the left of Margasitas, and have failed to find any of the remaining marks signalized by Valverde. 44 The mines of Llanganati, after having been neg- lected for nearly half a century, are now being sought out again with the intention of working them ; but there is no single person, at the present day, able to employ the labor and capital required for successfully working a silver mine ; and mutual confidence is at so low an ebb in this country that companies never hold together long. Beside this, the gold of the Incas never ceases to haunt people’s memories. But if the 4 Socabon ’ of Valverde cannot at this day be dis- covered, it is known to every one that gold exists at a short distance, and possibly in considerable quantity, if the Ecuadorians would only take the trouble to search for it, and not leave that task to the wild In- dians, who are content if by scooping up the gravel with their hands, they can get together enough gold to fill the quill which the white man has given them as the measure of the value of the axes and lance-heads he has supplied to them on trust.” THE VILLAGE OF MULALU. 83 Leaving Latacunga on a clear day early in the morn- ing, we have a beautiful view of Cotopaxi in the east- ern, and Ilinisa (17,649 feet high) in the western Cordillera, while Tunguragua, Chimborazo, and Car- guairazo, remain behind us, and gradually fade from our view. Again the road leads through long rows and hedges of American aloe ; but the fields are sandy and somewhat sterile. Cattle-breeding is car- ried on extensively on the haciendas along the skirts of Cotopaxi. The snows and waters of the mountain form the River Tacunga, which must be passed about two leagues from the town which shares its name. Sudden rises, attributed to the rains and to the melting of snow on Cotopaxi, make it frequently unfordable for several days in succession. Its current is very rapid, and its water sometimes partakes of the brown color which characterizes the volcano whenever it is, or at least seems to be, destitute of snow. The plains of Mulalu and Callo, to the west of Co- topaxi, present a gloomy aspect. The soil seems to be buried under volcanic sands, and is covered with count- less rocks of all dimensions, which tradition attributes to former eruptions of the mountain, although the opinion of scientific men like Wisse, Zimmermann, and other celebrated naturalists, militates against such a hypothesis. The village of Mulalu is an Indian settlement of no importance. The hacienda on the west side of the road, to which the tambo belongs, is a melancholy pict- ure of sadness and decay. The buildings are designed in a most elegant style, but are now in ruins. The statues in the garden have tumbled from their pedes- tals. Elegant stone balustrades are crumbling awav. The fountains are without water, and their stone ba- 84 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH-AMERICANS. sins breaking to pieces. The whole building contains but one habitable and furnished room ; the others are miserable, windowless hovels, used for store-rooms or occupied by the family of the mayor-domo. The gar- den is well laid out, but overgrown with weeds. Every thing; betokens the indifference or increasing poverty of the owners. And what I have said of this hacienda is true of most of the farm buildings of tTie interior ; they are all either unfinished or already in ruins, if not both. What the earthquake spares will not escape the sloth and carelessness of the natives. Walls that once tumble down are seldom built up again, or it will take years to repair them. Lifelessness and decay are the characteristic features of the country. If the sins of the fathers were ever avenged in their chil- dren and children’s children, it has been done in Span- ish America. The crimes of the early conquerors have borne their deadly fruits. Ruins and decay, stagnation and indolence, ignorance and superstition, idleness and civil wars, are the causes which blight more than one half of the American continent as fai as the Spanish tongue is spoken. There is, indeed poetic justice in history. Leaving Mulalu, the aspect of the treeless country increases in dreariness. For miles around, the soil is covered with volcanic sands, rocks, and pumice-stones, allowing only a most scanty vegetation of cacti, mi- mosa, and spines. In the middle of the plain is a soli- tary hill about one hundred and fifty feet high — the hill of Callo — from which this part of the plain de- rives its name. The hill is said to have been piled up by human hands. The ancient inhabitants of the plain are said to have erected it as a shelter against the eruptions of Cotopaxi, a tradition which I .am not ANCIENT RUINS. 85 inclined to believe. Of the Paneeillo, at the foot of which the city of Quito extends, the same incredulous story is told. Opposite the hill, on the other side of the road, is a solitary tree called “ El Arbolde Callo ,” overshadowing a huge oblong rock, close to which it grows. This rock is said to be the disguise of a gigantic serpent, keeping- watch over a great treasure buried under the tree. There is no want of legends on this sandy, gloomy, lifeless plain. A big rock on the roadside, with a curved line on its upper surface, in which by dint of great imaginative powers we may discover a slight re- semblance to the form of a foot or shoe, is said to be the honored spot on which the Apostle St. Bartholomew alighted when he visited this country, leaving the im- pression of his foot on the rock as a memorial to com- ing generations. It is customary for the Indians and arrieros who pass this place on foot, to place a pebble or little stone on the rock as a token of their devotion to the saint. Hundreds of these tokens now lie around the rock on all sides. Near the Cerro de Callo, but not visible from the public highway, are the ruins of an ancient Indian temple, palace, or tambo. But very little is left of them at present, the unreverential owners of the ha- cienda to which they belong having . converted them into a cheap and easy stone-quarry. Ulloa in the last century saw them yet in good condition. The ha- cienda then belonged to the Augustine monks, whose steward used the ruins as a mansion house. The friars, however, commenced the work of destruction by building dwellings among the ruins, and making alter- ations in the principal apartments. But now there is little more left than a few walls, enabling us to admire 7 o 86 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH-AMERICANS. the extreme nicety and exactness with which the stones are joined together. The edifice was built of por- phyry, the stones having their exterior surface slightly convex, except at the doors, where the fronts are plain. The dimensions of the stones are unequal, a small one being immediately followed by a large one, while that above is made to fit the inequalities of the other two, and at the same time fill up all the inter- stices between the projections and irregularity of their faces ; and this in such perfection that whatsoever way they are viewed, all parts appear joined with the same exactness. If the work of destruction goes on as hitherto, the last vestige of the ruins will soon disappear. The barbarity of the Roman barons of the Middle Ages, who quarried among their ancient palaces which the Hun and the Visigoth had spared, seems to be destined to repetition as long as monuments of antiquity remain. After a long and tedious ride through the last and © © most sterile part of the plain, relieved only by a near view of the smoking crater of Cotopaxi and its craggy neighbors Ruminagui and Pasachoa to our right, and the snowy crown of Ilinisa^to our left, we begin a steep ascent leading us to the paramo of Tiupullo, which in former times was infested with robbers who availed themselves of the despoblado , 1 for the purpose 'of waylaying wealthy travellers. At present, how- ever, the paramo may be passed without the slightest apprehension of danger. One paramo commonly looks like another, and as the reader is already familiar with the signification of the word, it will be unnecessary to give a description of Tiupullo. I must say, however, that it is infinitely 1 Despoblado means an uninhabited part of the country. TAMBOS OF MACHACHI. 87 less dreary than Sanancajas and the other paramos of Chimborazo. A solitary tree which attracts our atten- tion at a turn of the road is called u El Excomulgado ” (the accursed), because a priest is said to have been killed under it by a gang of robbers. We are now surrounded by mountains on all sides. Pichincha and Cayambi, with their numerous retinue of lesser peaks, rise before us. But nearest of all we draw to Rumihagui. Ruminagui, in the Quichua or Inca language, means face or eye of stone. It was the name of an ancient Indian general with whom the reader will become acquainted in another chapter of this book. Descending from the high paramo region, the beau- tiful green valley of Machachi and Tambillo opens be- fore us. Its verdure is fresher than that of the plain of Quito, or any other part of the high table-lands. It is a pleasant relief to the traveller, who has left all freshness of vegetation on the western side of the Cor- dillera. The pastures are exceedingly rich, and the fields well cultivated and fertile. Again we see num- berless herds of cattle grazing on the slopes and in the plains. The products of the temperate zone continue around us, in fields fenced in by hedges of aloe. This pleasant impression is disturbed only by the disgusting sight of half-naked and loathsome beggars cowering along the roadside, and pursuing the traveller in a most importunate manner. From Romerillo, an hacienda and tambo at the foot . of Tiupullo, an hour’s ride takes us to the tambos of Machachi (9784 feet above the sea), forming two long rows of miserable huts on both sides of the main road. These tambos are detestable hovels, built of earth, thatched with dried grasses, and without win- 88 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH-AMERICANS. dows and floorings. They are notorious for their filth and vermin. In one of them I once passed a horrible night. I was literally lacerated by fleas. Cleanliness is unknown to the inhabitants. Their chief pleasure and passion is aguardiente (rum). The nights at Machachi are exceedingly cold, owing chiefly to the near neighborhood of snow-peaks, among which Cora- zon (the heart) is conspicuous. Machachi lies at the foot of Mt. Corazon, which is 16,169 feet high, and was ascended and measured by the French academicians in the last century. It looks down on a beautiful valley, destined by nature to be a home of plenty and comfort, but converted by man into a haunt of sloth, filth, idleness, poverty, vice, and ignorance. Between Machachi and the near village of Tambillo at the foot of Mt. Atacatso (16,168 feet high), were several of the worst passages of the whole road, known as the “ Quebradas de Tambillo .” They are narrow lanes or defiles, intersected by deep ravines, through which several mountain streams force their way. A paved road formerly led through those gul- lies ; but now the water has broken the pavement, torn up the stones, and washed heavy rocks from the hill- side, over which the horses slip and stumble. Fallen trees and big roots obstruct the passages ; land-slides have made the paths slippery, and bottomless puddles detain the traveller in the narrow lanes, covered over- head with a dense vegetation which the sun never penetrates, and exhaling the foulest miasmas. The ascents and descents are almost perpendicular. The road breaks off at many places, so that the animal must proceed by springs and jumps. In short, as if to take leave of all that was bad on the road, we had STRENGTH OF THE INDIAN 89 it here combined for a last break-neck farewell. In 1864, however, a road was cut through these Quebra- das , and bridges were built over the streams. Tambillo is a little village of about fifty houses. It also has a casa posada (tavern), the only room of Avhich is ventilated solely when it is opened for a trav- eller. The Ecuadorians are very fond of keeping their rooms shut and close, for the better propagation of fleas. The room of the posada was without chairs. One high and unhandy table, two rickety bedsteads, and a few benches four inches wide, formed the furni- ture. The candles had to be stuck into the walls, as no candlesticks were to be had. The tavern-keeper had no cook of his own, but sent for one to a neigh- boring house. The cook asked for a few reals in ad- vance to make necessary purchases. Dinner, which I had ordered at half-past three o’clock, was brought in at about seven. The cook brought it in pots, with which she squatted down on the floor, and filled it into the plates with a wooden spoon. And now but little remains to be told. The road to Quito, which is about five leagues from Tambillo, lies through rich pastures and fertile fields, interspersed with elegant farm-houses and gardens, and countless Indian huts ( huasipongos ). Numbers of Indians car- rying loads or driving laden beasts, indicate our ap- proach to a great city. We are surprised by the sight of many an Indian woman, who not only carries a load on her back, with a babe tied to the top of the cargcu but also spins cotton as she trots along. Other Indian and Cholo women are seen riding astride their beasts, like men. . The Indians carry every thing on their back, the load being tied to their forehead. Their strength lies 90 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH-AMERICANS. in the muscles of the neck and not in their arms. They carry stone, brick, sand, lime, furniture, vegeta- bles, meat, etc., and pass along laughing or talking, or in sullen silence, but you never hear them sing. The Indian never sings unless he is drunk, and then his song is an endless repetition of a few monotonous notes. He salutes you submissively as you meet him, but the white man hardly ever deigns to answer his salutation. The laden Indian must make way for the traveller on horseback. A terrible “ lado ! ” (aside !) notifies him to get himself and his beasts out of the way. He salutes respectfully and obeys. If he is not quick enough, the whip of the horseman hurries him into compliance. The Indian is like an outlaw, at the mercy of every body, and every body’s slave. But his stupefied and beastly nature never revolts. He is the personification of abjectness, beastliness, and servility. But we have now reached the end of our journey, and passing the ruins of the chapel “ Del Senor del buen pasaje ,” we enter the suburbs of Quito over an ele- gant bridge across the River Machangara. CHAPTER VI. Altitude of Quito. — Mt. Pichineha. — Its Height. — The Crater. — The Peaks of Pichineha. — Eruptions. — The French Academicians. — Hum- boldt, Colonel Hall, and Boussingault. — Dr. Gabriel Garcia Moreno’s Three Descents to the Bottom of the Crater. — The Valley and Village of Lloa. — An American Artist in the Crater. — My Visits to it. — View from the Summit of Pichineha. — Pumice stone — Temperature — Ap- proaches to Quito. — Ana-Quito, the Battle-Field. — Turubamba. — Mt. Panecillo. — The City viewed from the Surrounding Hills. — A .Retro- spect. Quito is built on what may be termed a ledge of the volcanic mountain of Pichineha, at an elevation of 9587 feet above the level of the sea. By some, the altitude of Quito is estimated at over 10,000 feet, but this must be an error. I have followed the meas- urement of Humboldt. Boussingault gives it at 9525 ; Dr. Jameson, at 9518 feet. 1 The mountain rises in 1 Dr. William Jameson, here referred to, is the well-known botanist, whose discoveries in ornithology and botany have made his name familiar to the scientific world. He is a Scotchman by birth, a graduate of the University of Edinburgh, and came to Ecuador about thirty-seven years ago. He was director of the National Mint at Quito, and is now Professor at the Univer- sity, where he lectures on chemistry and botany. He is a highly esteemed member of the medical faculty, and as beloved for the qualities of his heart as respected for his mental acquirements. He is in continuous correspond- ence with several of the scientific societies of Great Britain, besides being the friend and correspondent of such men as the late Sir W. J. Hooker, director of the Royal Gardens of Kew. To Charles Darwin, Esq., authoi of the celebrated work on the Oriyin of the Species, he furnished items of valuable information. Several interesting Andean plants and birds which Dr. Jameson discovered, have been named after him, and will hand down his memory to scientific posterity. He has made an interesting excursion into the wild country on the River Napo, of which he has given to the world a short but graphic account, which was published by the Royal Geo- graphical Society of London. He also is the author of a Latin work on the 92 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH-AMERICANS. the background to a height of 15,976 feet. (This, too, is according to Humboldt. Boussingault's meas- urement is 15,676 ; that of the French Academicians, 15,606 ; Dr. Jameson’s is 15,704.) It is crowned by a wall of trachytic rocks surrounding the crater, the depth of which is 2460 feet, and consequently the -bottom, where a volcanic agency is in active opera- tion, is nearly 4000 feet above the level of the city. Snow frequently . falls on file sandy desert of the crater, but two or three days of fine weather cause its disappearance, except in some localities where it lies in patches sheltered from the rays of a vertical sun. The summit of Pichincha barely enters the snow limit, for which reason the congealed water does not assume the compact and crystalline form observed in what is strictly called a glacier. The snow brought down to the city for the preparation of ice-cream has the appearance of a conglomerate of hailstones. On the eastern chain of the Cordillera there are sev- eral lofty summits, capped with immense masses of solid ice, reflecting the rays of the setting sun, and presenting to the eye various beautiful prismatic tints, which, so soon as the solar light is withdrawn, assume a pure white color. The summit of Pichincha, excepting, perhaps, the highest points of some gf the peaks, cannot be seen from the city itself. It may, however, be seen from flora of Ecuador, published in Latin by the Government of that Republic. He is not only the friend and adviser of all the foreigners whom business or scientific curiosity brings to Quito, but his kindness of heart and sterling integrity have endeared him to all classes and parties of the Ecuadorian people. The assistance which he rendered to me in the collection of ma- terials for my work was very valuable; but I am additionally indebted to him for many other acts of friendship and kindness, upon my arrival and during my residence in Ecuador, which shall never be forgotten. MT. PICHINCHA. 93 its immediate vicinity. There are three different groups of rocky peaks, which constitute the crown of the mountain. The one which contains the cra- ter is called “ Rucu Pichincha,” which, in Quichua , the language of the Indians, means “ old.” The other, to the northeast of Rucu, is called “ Guagua Pichincha,” the word guagua meaning “ child.” Be- tween the two, and so as to form a triangle with them, is the lowest, the middle peak, to which no particular name has been given. Deep valleys and ravines separate the different groups. The snow, which is brought to Quito, as I said, for the purpose of making ice-cream, is taken from Guagua Pichincha. The view which, on a clear day, presents itself from the summit of the mountain, is one of the most im- posing^and magnificent perhaps in the whole world. £rfticiers show their hoary heads on all sides. Nearly twenty, if not more than twenty, snow-clad moun- tains rise before you. Imbabura, Cotocachi, Chiles, the grand Cayambi, the majestic Antisana, the ven- erable Chimborazo and his neighbor Caraguairazo, Ilinisa, the beautiful Altar, Tunguragua, fell Coto- paxi, Sincholagua, Corazon, and a host of others, fill your soul with awe and admiration. You find your- self in the midst of a council of the great patriarchs of the Andes, and you listen amazed to their speaker, Cotopaxi, who every now and then sends his roaring- thunders over the land. Since the conquest of the country by the Spaniards, Pichincha has had several eruptions, of which those in 15T5, 1587, and 1660 were the most notable and de- structive to Quito. On the 14th of September, 1575, the municipality of Quito resolved that the memory of the eighth of that same month should forever be r^hg- 94 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH-AMERICANS. iously observed, as only to the intercession of the Holy Virgin it was ascribed that the eruption of Piehincha, which had taken place on that day, did not destroy the whole city. The eruption of 1660 (October 27) was accompanied by a fearful rain of cinders. The ashes are said to have been carried by the winds as far as Popayan to the north and Loja to the south. The volcano is now considered as extinct, although from the cones of eruption at the bottom of the crater smoke and vapors are continually exhaled. It is even said that the mountain’s volcanic activity is ao;ain on the increase. “ In 1845, the chimneys whence the gases arose, formed six groups, only one of which was of somewhat considerable size. Now, the vapors es- cape through innumerable hollows and interstices, left by the falling away of the stones in each of the cra- ters ; and in the principal one a noise is heard similar to that made by the violent bubbling of boiling water in an immense caldron.” 1 The French Academicians Bouguer and Condamine, in 1742, were the first who reached the brink of the crater. Their Spanish colleagues, Ulloa and Jorje Juan, had lived with them in 1787, for twenty- three horrid days, on the rock which crowns Guagua Piehincha, in order to make their measurements ; but ljja^expedition to the crater was attempted on that occasion/ 1 See a letter of Mr. Gabriel Garcia Moreno to Dr. Wm. Jameson, dated Quito, January 13, 1858, and published in the Edinburgh Philosophical Journal. 2 Ulloa has left us a graphic description of the sufferings of the Acade- micians while encamped on the peak of Guagua Piehincha, measuring one of their triangles. “ We generally kept within our hut; indeed, we were obliged to do this, both on account of the intenseness of the cold, the violence of the wind, and our being often involved in so thick a fog that an object at. six or eight paces was hardly discernible. When the fog cleared up, the GUAGUA PICHINCHA. 95 Alexander Humboldt, in 1802, twice surmounted the gigantic wall of tracliytic rock which forms the eastern verse of the volcano. About thirtv years afterward, Colonel Hall and Boussingault followed in clouds, by their gravity, moved nearer to the surface of the earth, and on all sides surrounded the mountain to a vast distance, representing the sea, with our rock like an island in the centre of it But our circum- stances were very different when the clouds rose; their thickness rendered respiration difficult; the snow and hail fell continually, and the wind raged with all its violence, so that it was impossible to overcome the fears of being, together with our hut, blown down the precipice on the edge of which it was built, or of being buried uuder it by the daily accumulations of ice and snow Our fears were also increased by the dreadful con- cussions of the precipice by the fall of enormous fragments of rock. These crashes were the more alarming, as no other noises are heard in this desert. .... The door of our hut was fastened with thongs of leather, and on the inside not the smallest crevice w r as left unstopped, besides which it was very compactly covered with straw; but, notwithstanding all our care, the wind penetrated through Whenever it snowed, we had to sally out with shovels, in spite of the wind, to free the roof of our hut from the masses of snow which were gathering on it; nor would it, without this pro- tection, have been able to support the weight. We were not, indeed, with- out servants and Indians, but they were so benumbed with the cold, that it was with great difficulty w r e could get them out of a small tent, where they kept a continual fire Our feet were swelled, and so tender that we could not even bear the heat; our hands were covered with chilblains; our lips swelled and chapped, so that every motion in speaking, or the like, drew blood; consequently we were obliged to a strict taciturnity, and but little disposed to laugh, an extension of the lips producing fissures very painful for two or three days together. Our common food in this inhospi- table region w r as a little rice boiled with some meat or fowl, which we pro- cured from Quito, and instead of fluid water, our pot was filled with snow. We had the same resource with regard to what we drank; and while we were eating, every one was required to keep his plate over a chafing-dish of coals to prevent his provisions from freezing. Tw r enty-three tedious days we spent on this rock, until it became necessary to erect our signals in a lower situation, and in a more favorable region. This, however, did not produce any change in our habitation till December, when, having finished the observations which particularly concerned Pichincha, we proceeded to others, but with no abatement of inconvenience, cold, or fatigue, — the places where we made all our observations being necessarily on the highest parts of the desert; so that the only respite in which we enjoyed some little ease, was during the short interval of passing from one place to another.” Thirty- five mountains were thus scaled and inhabited by those heroes of science, who braved more sufferings, dangers, and privations, than many a soldier in a bloody campaign. 96 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH-AMERICANS. the ^ame path ; hut the first to descend to its bottom were Mr. Gabriel Garcia Moreno, afterwards President of Ecuador, and Mr. Sebastian Wisse, a French en- gineer of great scientific acquirements. 1 They went down twice ; the first time in 1844, and the second time in August, 1845. In December, 1857, Mr. Moreno made a third descent, accompanied by a son of Dr. Wm. Jameson, but of this last expedition he has given us no description. The temperature of the vapors issuing from the cones of eruption, varies much in the different inter- stices from which they arise. In the southeast crater; the vapors from the highest crevices, when measured by Mr. Garcia Moreno, nearly reached 180° Fahr., whilst in the lower ones the temperature was only 140° Fahr. In the principal crater, the hottest vapors did not come up to 194° Fahr., while in the largest in- terstice Mr. Moreno examined, and into which a per- son could easily enter if the thick column of vapor would permit, the temperature was 98° Fahr., at a depth of little more than one (French) metre. The descent into the crater from the summit of the mountain is very difficult, not only on account of the precipitous rocks over which it must be made, where hands, to use the language of Mr. Moreno, are more useful than feet, but also on account of the rocks and sandy patches which give way under one’s foot, and perhaps chiefly on account of the falling stones, which, overcoming the sandy support on which they rest, tumble into the abyss with a deep rumbling noise, shivering at last into a thousand atoms like an explod- ing bombshell, or striking other rocks and carrying them along with frightful impetuosity. 1 He died at Quito on the 7th of June, 1 863 MR. FARRAND, THE ARTIST. 97 In 1862, Mr. Camillus Farrand, an American art- ist, left Quito for the purpose of descending into, and taking photographic views of, the crater. The jour- ney from Quito to Rucu Pichinclia occupies but eight hours. Mr. Farrand, however, remained absent for more than a week, so that I became alarmed for his safety, and accompanied by a son of Dr. Jameson, the same that had accompanied Mr. Garcia Moreno on his last descent, started for the crater to ascertain what had become of him. We left Quito at about one o’clock in the afternoon, and between four and five o’clock we arrived at the village of Lloa, situated in the green and fertile, but nevertheless thinly popu- lated valley at the very foot of what is properly called “ Rucu Pichincha. ” We stopped at an hacienda which formerly belonged to the Jesuits, but is now in ruins, owing to the earthquake of 1859. It is 10,268 feet above the level of the sea. The mornings, evenings, and nights here are very cold. At ten o’clock at night the mercury had fallen to 46° Fahr. Here we learned that Mr. Farrand was safe, and had repeatedly sent down for victuals. He had remained in the crater for over a week, passing some of the nights at its very bottom, others on the ledges near its brink. The weather had been very cloudy ; mists and fogs had surrounded him almost continually, frustrating the oh- ject of his expedition. He hoped, however, that the weather would clear up, and therefore waited with as- tonishing perseverance amidst the horrors of Nature’s solitude, and almost in the bowels of a slumbering vol- cano. In the mornings, the tent in which he had passed the night was generally covered with snow, and sometimes to such an extent that the Indians who were with him had to sweep the snow from the door on the 7 98 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH-AMERICANS. outside before it could be opened. Nevertheless, the weather disappointed him ; he had succeeded only in taking a few partial views of the inner declivities, and was already on his way home when I met him, about fifteen hundred feet below the summit of the moun- tain. He immediately proposed to go back with me, insisting that I should not have come so far without seeing what, considering the unfavorable condition of the weather, could be seen. It is possible to reach the brink of the crater on horseback ; but, to effect this, the full ascent had better not be made on the same horses. We left our animals about two hundred feet below the crater, where the pumice-stones commence, with which the ground at that distance is literally cov- ered. These stones render it exceedingly difficult to get on. They are so light that they give way under you, and make you stumble and fall continually. This inconvenience, and the great rarefaction of air, which powerfully agitates the respiratory organs, tired us ex- ceedingly, so that it took us almost half an hour to ascend these last two hundred feet. We had to rest every eight or ten paces, to take breath and gather new strength ; still, I was so exhausted when I finally reached the summit, that I nearly fainted. Unfortu- nately, our efforts had been made in vain. Thick clouds and mists hovered over and in the crater, so that not even the opposite side could be seen. It was impossible to see further ahead than about five yards. A wall of snow rose on the brink about four feet high, and of a thickness of about eight or ten feet at the bottom and three or four feet at the top. This wall appeared as regular as if human skill had made it with the greatest care and precision. Mr. Farrand had had a hole cut through it, to get the trunks containing his SPECIMENS OF PLANTS. 99 instruments and chemicals, with less difficulty on the inner side of the crater. When I stood on the brink I smelled, but only for a moment, the sulphur in the vapors arising from below. I soon became accustomed to it, so that it entirely ceased to be perceptible. On my third visit — I returned to the crater three times after my first visit — these sulphuric vapors were not only very perceptible, but occasionally even oppressive to myself and .my companions ; another cir- cumstance tending to show that the volcanic activity of the mountain is again increasing. On the inner declivity of the crater, we were per- fectly well protected against the strong east wind which had troubled us so much during (Air ascent ; and while we lay tired and sprawling on some large and smooth rocks imbedded in the sand, the almost perpendicular rays of the sun were burning down upon us in a manner which almost made us forget in what altitude we were. The difference of the tem- perature between the inner and the outer side of the brink is really astonishing. ( )n my third visit to the crater, the mercury showed, at ten o’clock, a. m., the day being sunny, but 38° Falir. on the outside ; while, at the same elevation on the inside, it rose to 58°, which is but two degrees less than the mean tempera- ture of Quito. There is no vegetation around the brink of the crater, but Mr. Farrand had brought up a collection of plants from the bottom, which Dr. Jameson after- ward classified and prepared for him. They were the same species which Mr. Moreno had found there in 1857. Among the pumice-stones above referred to, I found several specimens of Frailejon , the Ccilcitium rufescens of Humboldt and Bonpland, a plant which occurs on almost all the snowy ridges of the Ecua- dorian Andes. 1 I also saw a curious flower which the natives call “ chuguiragua ,” and which is peculiar to those altitudes. 2 It has a very bitter taste, and is said to be a remedy against indigestion. There are but three approaches leading to the city of Quito — one from the north and two from the south. On the east and west it is hemmed in by the powerful mountain family of Pichinclia ; but north and south of it extends that interesting plain known to geographers as the high plateau, or table-land of Quito. The plain -trT'fhe northern entrance of the city is called “ Ana- Quito.” It was the scene of the battle fought on the 18th of January, 1546, between Gonzalo Pizarro and Blasco Nunez Vela, the first Viceroy of Peru, in which the latter was defeated and slain. The plain to the south is called “ Turubamba.” A traveller ap- proaching the city from any of the above-mentioned roads, can only see a part of it ; an isolated mountain called “ Paneeillo,” rising about TOO feet above the town (10,268 feet above the level of the sea), covering it on the south, and ridges coming down from the ele- vations east and west closing around it on the north. Disappointment, therefore, is the first sensation of the curious traveller. Nevertheless, the city is not a small one, and viewed from one of the surrounding hills, the 1 “ On the mountains beyond the River Chota, there is another plant to which the same name is applied. It is the Fspletia grandiflora of Hum- boldt and Bonpland, and 3’ields, by incision, a resinous substance, used ex- ternally to relieve rheumatic pains, and known by the name of resina de frailejon. Like the former plant, it is enveloped in wool, the color of which approaches to yellow. It makes a comfortable bed for the traveller who happens to be benighted on the lofty region where it grows. Both species grow on the volcano of Pasto, the former, however, reaching the highei elevation.” — From Dr. Jameson’s Manuscript Notes. 2 Chuguiragua insignis. COLONIAL IIISTOKY OF QUITO. 101 slopes of which it covers, it presents rather an exten- sive and interesting appearance, full of significant sug- gestions to a reflective mind. There it lies at your feet, buried as it were between treeless and melan- choly mountains, showing but now and then a spot indicative of cultivation ; isolated from the rest of the world by impassable roads and gigantic Cordilleras. No chimneys overtop its browny roofs ; no friendly cloud of smoke curls to the unruffled sky ; no rattling of wagons, no din of machinery strikes your ear ; no busy hum emerges from the capital of the Republic. The only noises which ascend from the caldron in which it lies, are the ringing of church-bells, the crow of the cock, or the drums and trumpets of the soldiery. The lifeless and almost melancholy aspect which the town presents from any of the surrounding elevations, is a true image of its lifeless colonial history, the character of which, firmly impressed as it is upon the commercial and industrial relations and customs of the interior, the almost endless convulsions and revolutions which fol- lowed the establishment of independence could not serve to destroy. The dull, gloomy, and spiritless character of that period is so graphically and forcibly described by Villavicencio in his Geography of Ecuador,” that I cannot deny myself the pleasure of translating the passage in question : — “ The foundation of the Presidency of Quito (see pages 8 and 9 of the work referred to) is followed by a cold and monotonous colonial period of 275 years. It was scarcely interrupted by some faint commotions attempted since 1766, by the conquered aborigines, which were promptly and easily suppressed. If we examine Ecuadorian society of those times, Ave find it tranquil, passive, patriarchal, as it were, but reduced 102 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH— AMERICANS. to itself, without knowledge, without communication, without life. The great majority of the people knew nothing of sciences, of events, or of men, and probably did not imagine that there were sciences, events, and men deserving to be known. Their religion consisted of outward observances and an imperfect knowledge of the Papal bulls ; their morality, in asceticism and de- votion to their king ; their history, in the history of the mother-country ; their geography, in the maps of Span- ish- America and of Spain ; their press, in what sufficed to print bill-heads and blank forms ; their commerce, in an insignificant coasting trade ; their ambition and highest aspirations, in titles of nobility ; their amuse- ments, in bull-fights. The arrival of a mail was an event of great moment, and with ringing of bells was received the 4 cajon de Esparto,,' which announced the health of the sovereigns. Thus, while Europe was passing through the stormy times of Louis XIV. ; while the philosophical writings of the illustrious men of those times found their way into the remotest cor- ners of the globe ; while the English colonies of North America conquered their independence ; while the Old World was drenched in blood to propagate the ideas which the French Revolution had proclaimed ; the Presidency of Quito, walled in by its immense Cordilleras and the ocean, and ruled by*monkisli ig- norance and bigotrv, knew as little of men and events as we now know of men and events in the moon.” Idle churches and convents, which occupy, to be moderate, at least one fourth of the area of Quito, are witnesses, eloquent in their silence, to the justice of Mr. Villavicencio’s historical criticism. More than one fourth of the town is covered by convents and their vast but neglected pateos (court-yards) and un- QUITO. 103 weeded gardens. If but one tenth of the millions which it cost to build these churches and monasteries — not to speak of the thousands of Indians who per- ished while being whipped to the unwonted task of carrying on their trembling backs block after block of these edifices — had been applied to the building of roads, this country would long since have taken its rank among civilized nations. Still, it must be a matter of surprise to the traveller, after passing through primeval forests, crossing bridge- less rivers, floundering over bottomless roads, and as- cending and descending immense mountains, to find a city with imposing public buildings, elegant private residences, and a luxury-loving aristocracy, in this almost inaccessible and forgotten corner of the world. But it is time to effect our entrance. CHAPTER VII. Quito. — Appearance of the City. — Crowds in the Streets. — Streets and Houses. — Queer Mode of Cooking. — Want of Hotels. — A Curate’s Idea of the Obligation of Promises. — Traits of Native Character. — Want of Cleanliness. — Incidents. — Excellent Climate. — Mean Tem- perature. — No Diseases or Insects. — The Rainy Season. — Fruits and Flowers. — Earth’s Paradise. Viewed from a distance, or from one of the sur- rounding hills, Quito resembles one of those*, spell- 1, ound towns in the Arabian Nights, so impressively described by the ingenious Scheherezade. But, as soon as we enter it, it presents a most lively appearance. On the principal streets and plazas hundreds of human beings are continually in motion. It is true, they are chiefly Indians and Cholos , and you will meet twenty persons in ponchos and even in rags, barefoot or with alpargates (hemp-sandals), before you meet one respectably dressed. But, nevertheless, the motley crowds of men in ponchos of all colors, beggars in rags, vagrants in sackcloth, women with red, green, brown, or blue pahuelones and rebozos , ladies with gay- colored silk shawls, monks with their immense hats, monks in white, monks in brown, monks in blue, and canons and curates in black, and Indians of a hundred different villages in every variety of costume, not even omitting the naked and painted Indian from the wil- derness on the eastern side of the Cordillera, — pre- sent a most lively and interesting spectacle. There are but few carts in use, as I have already said ; never- APPEARANCE OF THE CITY OF QUITO. 105 theless, the streets are thronged from morning to even- ing with mules, horses, oxen, donkeys, and llamas with loads (cargos) of every kind and description. Indians, men and women, with loads on their backs, limp to and fro ; soldiers in queer clown-caps and with or with- out shoes, lazily saunter through ‘the crowds; groups of merchants and their friends chat in front of their tiendas (stores) ; chagras (country-people) on horse- back dash through the streets ; ladies will meet their lady friends and embrace and hug them, obstructing the narrow sidewalks ; water-carriers with immense jars on their backs, butchers or bakers with meat or bread in troughs on their heads, wend their way to the houses of their customers ; children and dogs run about in all directions ; mule-drivers swear at their beasts ; parrots chatter in the groceries and greenshops ; in short, the life within the city favorably contrasts with its melancholy aspect from without. The city is traversed from west to east by two deep ravines ( quebradas ), through which Pichincha sends down its torrents of melted snow. These quebradas are mostly covered with vaults and arches on which the houses rest, but where they are open, they dis- close to the eye hideous abysses, the sides of which are overgrown with rank weeds. The territory over which the city extends being exceedingly uneven, as the slopes and spurs of the surrounding hills press down toward the Plaza Mayor from three different sides, a walk through Quito consists of continuous as- cents and descents. The course of the streets, how- ever, is generally regular, those running from east to west being intersected at right angles by others run- ning from north to south. The gutters and sewers were formerly in the centre of the streets forming rivu- 106 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH-AMERICANS. lets, through which the water was let down two or three times in twenty-four hours for purposes of pub- lic cleanliness ; but in 1863 the municipality entered upon an extensive system of re-paving ; and the prin- cipal streets are now paved in modern style. The streets are not very* wide ; the sidewalks are exceed- ingly narrow. The houses are built mostly in the old Spanish or rather Moorish style, with the roofs projecting over the pavements so as to afford a partial protection against the frequent rains. There are but two or three buildings in Quito with two upper stories. Most of the houses have only one. Low and filthy houses of but a ground-floor are found in great num- bers, but only in the outskirts and suburbs. The houses are generally built of adobe (sun-baked brick). The walls are exceedingly thick, forming deep embrasures for doors and windows. There are, strictly speaking, no windows, but glass doors leading to balconies overhanging the sidewalks. The roofs are covered with curved tiles of earthenware ; two rows are first placed, the concave side upwards, the joint being covered with a third row reversed, so as to form channels for the water to flow off, which, from the main gutter, is thrown into the streets and court- yards by a number of projecting spouts. These pre- cautions are necessary on account of the heaviness and long duration of the showers in the rainy season. - The upper story is the dwelling part of a respectable house. The ground-floor (parterre) is occupied by the servants, or tenanted by poor people who cannot afford to pay high rents. The stores in front have no backdoors, and do not communicate with the interior of the houses to which they belong. They have no windows, and generally but one door, which must serve as entrance, QUEER MODE OF COOKING. 107 window, show-case, and all. There are but very few shops in Quito which have two doors. The stores consequently are but small ; five or six customers, especially of the crinoline gender, will fill them com- pletely. These stores are called tiendas , and are closed at early candle-light. They are naturally dark, and most of the business is done at or near the door. The houses have neither fire-places nor chimneys, ex- cept in a few buildings of modern construction. The want of fire-places is sometimes severely felt. The smoke arising from kitchen fires must make its way out of the kitchen door, and a few apertures above it. Kitchens, therefore, are black and dark ; and as almost nothing but charcoal is used for cooking, they are noisome and uncomfortable. Stoves are not known. There being no flues connected with the hearths, cooking is quite a task, and the cook needs one, two, or more, subordinates to fan the fires ; to almost every pot a separate fire, and to two fires, one individual to fan them. Servants, however, are very cheap, although unreliable and lazy ; but of this here- after. The pots used for cooking have not a flat bot- tom like ours, but are pointed below, so that they cannot stand without being supported by some contri- vance, or inserted into the holes which the hearth contains on purpose. The large jars in which water is carried have the same impracticable shape. They are put on wooden trestles, or into holes in a stone bench opposite or at the side of the hearth. The cook generally brings his family with him, allowing his dirty children to romp about the kitchen. A female cook will do her work with the baby tied on to her back, or deposited by her side on the kitchen table. Hair in the meals -is of frequent occurrence, without reference 108 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH-AMERICANS. to an occasional flea, or a lot of vine-fretters, which have communicated themselves to the soup from the unwashed vegetables. Most of the houses have one or two spacious square court-yards paved and with drains. In the second, there is generally a covered place for horses, which is paved also. The stables of this country never have boards. The street entrance is always high enough to admit a horseman with ease. In the upper story there is always a gallery resting on arches or pillars, and lead- ing around the court-yard. All the rooms and galleries are floored with square tiles or bricks, on which mats or carpets are laid. The chinks between the bricks serve as hiding-places for swarms of fleas, particularly troublesome after a room has remained shut up and uninhabited for some time ; in which case it is not un- common, especially on hacienda* in the country, to drive a sheep through it first, in order to take up as many fleas as possible. The rooms, with the exception of the parlors, or salas , are generally but very indiffer- ently furnished, with an incongruous mixture of an- tique and modern pieces, and kept in a pitiable state of uncleanliness, disorder, and confusion. The first inconvenience which vexes the traveller on his arrival, is the entire want of hotels. There is not a tavern or inn at Quito, at which a respectable person could stop. The only cam posada which existed when I arrived, was not fit to be entered. Black, dirty, and neglected, with but a few dusty rooms, full of fleas, and perhaps other vermin, and without accommoda- tions of any kind, the traveller who is forced into it acquires a valid claim to our commiseration, in spite of the image of the saint in the entrance, before which OBLIGATION OF PROMISES. 109 tallow candles are kept burning almost all the year round. Private hospitality will have to be resorted to, at least until rooms can be rented . 1 I was rather lucky in making the journey from Guayaquil with a resident of Quito, who had the kind- ness to make me tarry one day at Ambato, to enable him to go ahead and find a house for me, which he did, to the great astonishment of a native cura (cu- rate), who never expected that one of his countrymen should keep a promise which he (the curate) con- sidered to be a mere form of politeness. The curate himself seemed to have no idea of the honorable obli- gation of promises ; nor did he seem to understand that a lie, in such cases, would be ungen tlemanlv or immoral. I met him at Machachi, where he had awaited me, to make my acquaintance. The officer who accompanied me told him that my mule was very tired, and suggested that he, as the curate of Macha- chi, would have no difficulty in procuring a horse for me. With usual Spanish politeness, his worship at once offered his own horse, and promised to send it to Tambillo, where I proposed to remain over night. Relying on his promise, I made no further effort to procure another beast ; but to my great disappoint- ment, when I had arrived at Tambillo, which is the last station before Quito, the horse arrived, but with the curate on it, who proposed to accompany me to Quito. Taken to task why he had not sent the horse 1 kl Houses, completely furnished, with looking-glasses, carpets, lamps, etc., may be hired in Quito; and a very good one, with nine or ten rooms, may be had for fifty dollars a month — a very low price indeed, when the expense is considered, which must be incurred in transporting these things across the Cordilleras.” — Ida Pfeiffer, A Laly's Second Voyage Round the World, vol- i., p. 215. Fifty dollars a month for a dwelling-house is rather a price for foreigners. Natives seldom pay more than from twenty to forty dollars. 110 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH— AMERICANS. as promised, lie made the excuse that he had brought another horse along with him for a part of the way ; hut overtaking one of my arrieros , he was told that I had procured a beast already, and so he sent back the one he had brought along, and came on alone to have the pleasure of travelling to Quito in my company. This excuse was as false as ridiculous. Upon asking the arriero , I ascertained at once that the priest had not spoken to him on the road, and that he had no horse but the one he rode. The fact is, that his wor- ship never thought of complying with the promise on which his officious assurances had induced me to rely ; and he probably was inwardly amused that I should have looked upon it in any other light than that of a mere fagon de parler . This custom of making high- sounding promises, which are not intended to be kept, is universal among Ecuadorians of the Sierra. If you make the acquaintance of one of them, he will over- whelm you with offers of his services. He will be- seech you to 44 count him as one of the number of your friends ” ( 4t Usted me puede contar en el numero de sus amigos ”) ; he will place his house, his haciendas, his horses, at your disposal ; he will ask you to treat him confidentially, and to speak to him frankly, whenever you should need any thing that he can supply ; he will protest his ardent desire to be your friend and to serve you in every possible manner; he will modestly add that unfortunately his friendship may not be worth much ( 44 yo valgo mug poco ; soy mug inutil etc., etc.), and his influence limited, but that he may, nevertheless, find an opportunity of being useful to you in some way, in which case he begs you to rely on him and to apply to him without reserve. All these protestations, which sound very bad in English, TRAITS OF NATIVE CHARACTER. Ill out which are delivered by our Spanish neighbors with great eloquence and in the choicest language, are mere conversational phrases, which, from their earliest child- hood, they are taught to repeat on every suitable occa- sion. Should you really apply to them for any of the services so pompously proffered, you must expect, as a general rule, that they will find a well-sounding ex- cuse for refusing. They must not be too rigidly ex- pected to keep a promise when it is inconvenient to keep it, or when it is more advantageous to break it. Good faith is often wanting, especially in money transactions. They lack business habits, especially in the interior of Ecuador, where there is but little commerce. It is very difficult to induce them to do a thing promptly, thoroughly, and at once. They are full of delays and procrastinations . 1 But they are ex- 1 The lamented Colonel Francis Hall, who lost his life in Quito on the night of the 19th of October, 1833, during one of the many revolutions which have distracted that country ever since the establishment of its in- dependence, comments on the character of Colombians in the following manner: “ Long habits of slavery and oppression, partly counteracted by a feverish interval of liberty, ill understood and imperfectly enjoyed; the al- most total want of education, and absence of that moral stimulus, which, under the name of honor or character, forces every respectable individual of European society to a line of conduct conformable with his situation ; all these circumstances have produced a negativeness or debility, both in thought and action, which renders them troublesome to deal with, and unfit to be relied on. It is, in fact, impossible to calculate their behavior, except you could be certain of the last idea which has occupied their im- agination, for the feeling of interest most immediately present is pretty gen- erally decisive of their conduct. Does a merchant contract with a planter for a quantity of coffee or cacao at a certain rate: in vain would he suppose the bargain concluded should another purchaser appear, and offer the slightest advantage of price. The readiness with which they break a prom- ise or an agreement, can only be equaled by the sophistical ingenuity with which they defend themselves for having done so. In this respect they seem a nation of lawyers, who ki with ease twist words and meanings as they please. As the reproach of being a liar is the last insult which can be offered or endured among freemen, so is the term lie the last to be used in decent conversation ; here, on the contrary, not only is the expression a good one , and adapted to the meridians of genteelest society, but the re- 112 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH-AMERICANS. ceedmgly good-natured, pleasant, and courteous. They are hospitable to a fault. When a respectable stranger arrives, they will overwhelm him with kindness and at- tentions, especially when he presents letters of intro- duction. I received presents of sweetmeats, preserves, venison, cakes, pastry, milk, butter, and cheese, al- most continually. Many a time I received presents from ladies, even before I had made their acquaint- ance. These presents are delivered by servants, to- gether with a kind message from the giver. The politeness of the natives is indeed pleasing ; they never show the slightest rudeness, and treat even their ene- ^»ies with distinguished civility. Their manners are exceedingly amiable and cordial, and at the same ti n 1 dignified. Their language is elegant, and al- r" o o o 7 wavs obliging. Let us now return to our subject. There is another want still more embarrassing in Quito than the want of hotels : it is the want of water-closets and privies, which are not considered as necessary fixtures of pri- vate residences. This inconvenience has undoubtedly contributed a great deal to make Quito what it is — one of the filthiest capitals in Christendom. Men, women, and children, of all ages and colors, may be seen in the middle of the street in broad davlight, mak- mg privies of the most public thoroughfares ; and while proach of being a liar may be safely cast on friend or foe with as little offense given or taken, as the term ‘ rake ’ or ‘ prodigal ’ would cause in a fashionable London circle. It is, indeed,, a truth worth a ‘ thousand homilies ’ in defense of liberty, that without it there can be no virtue. The most pleasing trait in the character of Colombian Creoles is their good-nature. It is easy to live with them if you require but little of them ; they have little or no active benevolence, because such must result from strong powers of imagination and reflection.” — Colombia: Its Present State and Inducements to Emigration, by Colonel Francis Hall: Philadel- phia, 1825. WANT OF CLEANLINESS. 113 tlius engaged, they will stare into the faces of passers- by with a shamelessness that beggars description. By- streets, especially, are made noisome, and sometimes impassable, by this detestable practice. I know that these statements will offend the delicacy of my readers, but I would leave one of the characteristic features of Quito unnoticed, were I to omit them. Accustomed as we are at home to the utmost cleanliness, it is a difficult task to convey to the minds of an American public an adequate idea of Ecuadorian filthiness. You may enter the most elegant and fashionable parlors, and the dust on tables, chairs, and sofas will, in many cases, be thick enough legibly to write your name on the furniture it covers. And yet parlors are generally kept with greater and better care than other apart- ments. In the latter, you may discover innumerable cobwebs of venerable acre, amidst clouds of dust cov- ering the walls and ceilings, and the incongruent mixt- cD O 7 O ure of all possible styles of furniture. Strong prejudices are entertained by the natives against the use of cold water. On one occasion, a gentleman at Ambato, who saw me wash my face, asked me, with great curiosity, whether I did so every day ! In the country, it is generally believed that washing one’s face with cold water will produce swell- ing, fever, or rheumatism. The women, as a general thing, are cleanlier than the men ; but of the latter 1 have known many, of respectable families, who but very seldom washed their faces in the morning. We need not, therefore, be surprised at seeing the Indians bring their vegetables to market bundled up in the same lousy rebozos and ponchos with which they cover their unwashed limbs at night. A few incidents, which to many of my readers will appear incredible, 114 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPANISH-AMERICANS. may be mentioned in this connection. I had once ordered some flour made of yuca, which, for culinary uses, is preferable to the coarse flour of wheat, as ground in the primitive mills of the interior ; but I urged upon the woman who had undertaken to fur- nish it, to keep it clean. She brought it at last, but tied up in a man’s shirt, spotted with flea marks. Of course, woman, yuca-flour, and shirt, received a very short but most emphatic notice to quit my premises. On another occasion, I had arrived at Ambato late in the evening, and, disinclined to take any refreshments myself, I asked my page (body-servant) whether he wanted to take any thing? He asked for a cup of coffee, which I ordered to be brought. The boy who attended the bar of the inn seemed to be without a knife to cut a big lump of sugar which he had taken from the shelves, and so he bit off one piece after the other, and taking the pieces out of his mouth, placed them on the saucer on which he intended to serve them. This was too strong, even for an Ecuadorian, and my servant refused to take the coffee after what he had seen. The Indians who sweep the streets of Quito on Sundays have no shovels to take up the dirt. 1 have seen them, many a time, scrape together the sweepings with their hands and nails, and fill them in their ponchos, which form the most essential part of their wearing apparel in daytime, and serve them as blankets at night. There is nothing more loathsome, however, than to see the common people crush lice between their teeth. In the entrances of houses, on the market-places, in the groceries and green-shop*, and in a variety of other places open to the public eye, men, women, and children may be seen picking lice off each other’s heads, and crushing them between EXCELLENCE OF CLIMATE. 115 their teeth. In respectable private residences, I was often obliged to see, at meals, when plates were changed, the marks of fingers on the crockery. Tea and coffee pots were exceedingly dirty ; the hands and faces of the servants unwashed, their hair uncombed, their dress slovenly and greasy. If such disregard of cleanliness prevails among the wealthy, one cannot be surprised that the filthiness of the poor beggars descrip- tion. To see a man pick a flea from behind his necktie, and kill it between his teeth, is not an uncommon sight. I even saw women lick the lice and scab from the combs with which they were combing their children. These details are. certainly disgusting ; but the coun- try has its redeeming features : and first of all, the excellence of its climate, which is very agreeable and salubrious, the mean temperature being about 60° Falir. in the shade. In my library, the mercury never rose above 61° ; in my bedroom — which had the morning sun — the mean temperature was 62°. In the shade, the thermometer scarcely ever rises above 70°, nor sinks below 45°. The average range with- in the twenty-four hours may be stated at about 10°. These observations, of course, apply to Quito and the neighboring plains. A journey of four hours will place the traveller in the region of eternal frost ; or in the space of half a day he can descend the deep and sul- try valleys that separate the mighty chains of the Andes ; or, finally, he may visit the tropical forest ex- tending to the shores of the Pacific. This variation of temperature, dependent on elevation, and occurring within narrow limits, furnishes a daily and diversified supply of vegetable food — from the plantain, which, as a substitute for bread, is largely consumed by the inhabitants of the coast, to the wheat, pulse, maize, 116 FOUR YEARS AMONG SPAN ISH-AM ERIC ANS. quinoa , potato, oca, cabbage, beets, salads, and pot- herbs, and all sorts of grains and roots, growing lux- uriantly on the cool table-lands of the interior. Be- sides these, the market is furnished with pine-apples, chirimoyas (Anona chirimoya ), guayavas (. Psidium pomiferum ), guavas ( Inga pachycarpa'), the fruit of different species of passion-flower ; oranges and lemons, camotes , yucas , arachacas , pallemetos , citrons , granadil- las , and, from January to April, certain European fruits, such as apples, pears, quinces, peaches, apricots, melons, and strawberries — the last-mentioned fruit having been introduced probably from Chili. The quality of European fruit, however, is greatly inferior, there being not the slightest care or cultivation be- stowed upon trees. If it were not for the excellence of its climate, which is never hot and never cold, the prevailing filthiness / would make Quito a very sickly place. But, as it is, Quito, with its neighborhood for miles around, may be said to be one of the healthiest localities on the globe. Consumptions and pulmonary diseases are scarcely ever heard of. The fevers peculiar to tropical countries are unknown. Those who get them on the coast will go to Quito and the interior, to get rid of them again. Dysenteries are uncommon. Among the rabble, it is true, cases of tubercular elephantiasis or leprosy , 1 as well as blindness and deafness, will be noted ; but there is no doubt that they are brought on by irregular habits and the indescribable filthiness in which these people are brought up and live. As the government has not yet established a department of statistics, I am unable to state the mortality of Quito, although I be- lieve it is considerably less than that of other places of 1 Elephantiasis Grascorum. CLIMATE OF QUITO. 117 an equal number of inhabitants. To judge from the great number of persons of high age I have met with in all ranks and stations, the climate may be said to be favorable to long life. One remarkable observation