Caxton's Book: A Collection of Essays, Poems, Tales, and Sketches Part 10

It is unnecessary to detail all the messages we received; one only do I deem it important to notice. A spirit, purporting to be that of Horatio Nelson, rapped out his name, and stated that he had led the a.s.sault on the Spaniards in the attack of the old Fort of Castillo frowning above us, and there first distinguished himself in life. He declared that these mouldering ruins were one of his favorite haunts, and that he prided himself more on the a.s.sault and capture of _Castillo Viejo_ than on the victory of the Nile or triumph of Trafalgar.

The circle soon afterwards dispersed, and most of those who had partic.i.p.ated in it were, in a few minutes, slumbering in their cots. As for myself, I was astounded with all that I had witnessed, but at the same time delighted beyond measure at the new field opening before me. I tossed from side to side, unable to close my eyes or to calm down the excitement, until, finding that sleep was impossible, I hastily rose, threw on my coat, and went to the door, which was slightly ajar. On looking out, I observed a person pa.s.sing toward the foot of the hill upon which stood the Fort of Castillo Viejo. The shower had pa.s.sed off, and the full moon was riding majestically in mid heavens. I thought I recognized the figure, and I ventured to accost him. It was the Judge.

He also had been unable to sleep, and declared that a sudden impulse drove him forth into the open air.

Gradually he had approached the foot of the hill, which shot up, like a sugar-loaf, two or three hundred feet above the level of the stream, and had just made up his mind to ascend it when I spoke to him. I readily consented to accompany him, and we immediately commenced climbing upwards.

The ascent was toilsome, as well as dangerous, and more than once we were on the point of descending without reaching the summit. Still, however, we clambered on, and at half-past one o'clock A. M., we succeeded in our effort, and stood upon the old stone rampart that had for more than half a century been slowly yielding to the remorseless tooth of Time. Abandoned for many years, the ruins presented the very picture of desolation. Rank vines clung upon every stone, and half filled up with their green tendrils the yawning crevices everywhere gaping at us, and whispering of the flight of years.

We sat down on a broken fragment that once served as the floor of a port-hole, and many minutes elapsed before either of us spoke a word. We were busy with the past. Our thoughts recalled the terrible scenes which this same old fort witnessed on that glorious day when the youthful Nelson planted with his own hand the flag of St. George upon the very ramparts where we were sitting.

How long we had been musing I know not; but suddenly we heard a low, long-drawn sigh at our very ears. Each sprang to his feet, looked wildly around, but seeing nothing, gazed at the other in blank astonishment. We resumed our seats, but had hardly done so, when a deep and most anguis.h.i.+ng groan was heard, that pierced our very hearts. This time we retained our position. I had unclosed my lips, preparatory to speaking to my companion, when I felt myself distinctly touched upon the shoulder. My voice died away inarticulately, and I shuddered with ill-concealed terror. But my companion was perfectly calm, and moved not a nerve or a muscle. Able at length to speak, I said, "Judge, let us leave this haunted sepulchre."

"Not for the world," he coolly replied. "You have been anxious for spiritual phenomena; now you can witness them un.o.bserved and without interruption."

As he said this, my right arm was seized with great force, and I was compelled to resign myself to the control of the presence that possessed me. My right hand was then placed on the Judge's left breast, and his left hand laid gently on my right shoulder. At the same time he took a pencil and paper from his pocket, and wrote very rapidly the following communication, addressed to me:

The Grave hath its secrets, but the Past has none. Time may crumble pyramids in the dust, but the genius of man can despoil him of his booty, and rescue the story of buried empires from oblivion. Even now the tombs of Egypt are unrolling their recorded epitaphs. Even now the sculptured mounds of Nineveh are surrendering the history of Nebuchadnezzar's line. Before another generation shall pa.s.s away, the columns of Palenque shall find a tongue, and the _bas-reliefs_ of Uxmal wake the dead from their sleep of two thousand years. Young man! open your eyes; we shall meet again amid the ruins of the _Casa Grande_!

At this moment the Judges hand fell palsied at his side, and the paper was thrust violently into my left hand. I held it up so as to permit the rays of the moon to fall full upon it, and read it carefully from beginning to end. But no sooner had I finished reading it than a shock something like electricity struck us simultaneously, and seemed to rock the old fort to its very foundation. Everything near us was apparently affected by it, and several large bowlders started from their ticklish beds and rolled away down the mountain. Our surprise at this was hardly over, ere one still greater took possession of us. On raising our eyes to the moss-grown parapet, we beheld a figure sitting upon it that bore a very striking resemblance to the pictures in the Spanish Museum at Madrid of the early Aztec princes. It was a female, and she bore upon her head a most gorgeous headdress of feathers, called a _Panache_. Her face was calm, clear, and exceedingly beautiful. The nose was prominent--more so than the Mexican or Tezcucan--and the complexion much lighter. Indeed, by the gleam of the moonlight, it appeared as white as that of a Caucasian princess, and were an expression full of benignity and love.

Our eyes were riveted upon this beautiful apparition, and our lips silent. She seemed desirous of speaking, and once or twice I beheld her lips faintly moving. Finally, raising her white, uncovered arm, she pointed to the north, and softly murmured, "_Palenque_!"

Before we could resolve in our minds what to say in reply, the fairy princess folded her arms across her breast, and disappeared as suddenly and mysteriously as she had been evoked from night. We spoke not a word to each other, but gazed long and thoughtfully at the spot where the bright vision had gladdened and bewildered our sight. By a common impulse, we turned to leave, and descended the mountain in silence as deep as that which brooded over chaos ere G.o.d spoke creation into being.

We soon reached the foot of the hill, and parted, with no word upon our lips, though with the wealth of untold worlds gathered up in our hearts.

Never, since that bright and glorious tropical night, have I mentioned the mysterious scene we witnessed on the ramparts of Fort Castillo; and I have every reason to believe that my companion has been as discreet.

This, perhaps, will be the only record that shall transmit it to the future; but well I know that its fame will render me immortal.

Through me and me alone, the sculptured marbles of Central America have found a tongue. By my efforts, Palenque speaks of her buried glories, and Uxmal wakes from oblivion's repose. Even the old pyramid of Cholula yields up its b.l.o.o.d.y secrets, and _Casa Grande_ reveals the dread history of its royalties.

The means by which a key to the monumental hieroglyphics of Central America was furnished me, as well as a full account of the discoveries made at Palenque, will be narrated in the subsequent chapters of this history.

CHAPTER II.

"Amid all the wreck of empires, nothing ever spoke so forcibly the world's mutations, as this immense forest, shrouding what was once a great city."--STEPHENS.

At daylight on the next morning after the singular adventure recorded in the preceding chapter, the California pa.s.sengers bound eastward arrived, and those of us bound to the westward were transs.h.i.+pped to the same steamer which they had just abandoned. In less than an hour we were all aboard, and the little river-craft was busily puffing her way toward the fairy sh.o.r.es of Lake Nicaragua.

For me, however, the evergreen scenery of the tropics possessed no charms, and its balmy air no enchantments. Sometimes, as the steamer approached the ivy-clad banks, laden as they were with flowers of every hue, and alive with ten thousand songsters of the richest and most variegated plumage, my attention would be momentarily aroused, and I enjoyed the sweet fragrance of the flowers, and the gay singing of the birds. But my memory was busy with the past, and my imagination with the future. With the Judge, even, I could not converse for any length of time, without falling into a reverie by no means flattering to his powers of conversation. About noon, however, I was fully aroused to the beauty and sublimity of the surrounding scenery. We had just pa.s.sed Fort San Carlos, at the junction of the San Juan River with the lake, and before us was spread out like an ocean that magnificent sheet of water.

It was dotted all over with green islands, and reminded me of the picture drawn by Addison of the Vision of Mirza.

Here, said I to myself, is the home of the blest. These emerald islets, fed by vernal skies, never grow sere and yellow in the autumn; never bleak and desolate in the winter. Perpetual summer smiles above them, and wavelets dimpled by gentle breezes forever lave their sh.o.r.es. Rude storms never howl across these sleeping billows, and the azure heavens whisper eternal peace to the lacerated heart.

Hardly had these words escaped my lips, when a loud report, like a whole park of artillery, suddenly shook the air. It seemed to proceed from the westward, and on turning our eyes in that direction, we beheld the true cause of the phenomenon. Ometepe was in active eruption. It had given no admonitory notice of the storm which had been gathering in its bosom, but like the wrath of those dangerous men we sometimes encounter in life, it had hidden its vengeance beneath flowery smiles, and covered over its terrors with deceitful calm.

In a moment the whole face of nature was changed. The skies became dark and lurid, the atmosphere heavy and sultry, and the joyous waters across which we had been careering only a moment before with animation and laughter, rose in tumultuous swells, like the cross-seas in the Mexican Gulf after a tornado. Terror seized all on board the steamer, and the pa.s.sengers were clamorous to return to Fort San Carlos. But the captain was inexorable, and seizing the wheel himself, he defied the war of the elements, and steered the vessel on her ordinary course. This lay directly to the south of Ometepe, and within a quarter of a mile of the foot of the volcano.

As we approached the region of the eruption, the waters of the lake became more and more troubled, and the air still more difficult to respire. Pumice-stone, seemingly as light as cork, covered the surface of the lake, and soon a terrific shower of hot ashes darkened the very sun. Our danger at this moment was imminent in the extreme, for, laying aside all consideration of peril from the volcano itself, it was with great difficulty that the ashes could be swept from the deck fast enough to prevent the woodwork from ignition. But our chief danger was still in store for us; for just as we had arrived directly under the impending summit, as it were, a fearful explosion took place, and threatened to ingulf us all in ruin. The crater of the volcano, which previously had only belched forth ashes and lava, now sent up high into the heavens a sheet of lurid fire. It did not resemble gases in combustion, which we denominate flame, flickering for a moment in transitory splendor, and then dying out forever. On the contrary, it looked more like _frozen fire_ if the expression may be allowed. It presented an appearance of solidity that seemed to defy abrasion or demolition, and rose into the blue sky like a marble column of lightning. It was far brighter than ordinary flame, and cast a gloomy and peculiar shadow upon the deck of the steamer. At the same instant the earth itself shook like a summer reed when swept by a storm, and the water struck the sides of the vessel like some rocky substance. Every atom of timber in her trembled and quivered for a moment, then grew into senseless wood once more. At this instant, the terrific cry of "Fire!" burst from a hundred tongues, and I had but to cast my eyes toward the stern of the s.h.i.+p to realize the new peril at hand. The attention of the pa.s.sengers was now equally divided between the burning s.h.i.+p and the belching volcano. The alternative of a death by flame, or by burial in the lake was presented to each of us.

In a few moments more the captain, crew, and pa.s.sengers, including seventeen ladies, were engaged hand to hand with the enemy nearest to us. Buckets, pumps, and even hats, were used to draw up water from the lake and pa.s.s to those hardy spirits that dared to press closest to the flames. But I perceived at once that all would prove unavailing. The fire gained upon the combatants every moment, and a general retreat took place toward the stem of the steamer. Fully satisfied what would be the fate of those who remained upon the s.h.i.+p, I commenced preparing to throw myself into the water, and for that purpose was about tearing one of the cabin doors from its hinges, when the Judge came up, and accosted me.

He was perfectly calm; nor could I, after the closest scrutiny of his features, detect either excitement, impatience, or alarm. In astonishment I exclaimed:

"Sir, death is at the doors! Prepare to escape from the burning s.h.i.+p."

"There is no danger," he replied calmly; "and even if there were, what is this thing that we call _death_, that we should fear it? Compose yourself, young man; there is as yet no danger. I have been forewarned of this scene, and not a soul of us shall perish."

Regarding him as a madman, I tore the door from its hinges with the strength of despair, and rus.h.i.+ng to the side of the s.h.i.+p, was in the very act of plunging overboard, when a united shriek of all the pa.s.sengers rose upon my ear, and I paused involuntarily to ascertain the new cause of alarm. Scarcely did I have time to cast one look at the mountain, ere I discovered that the flames had all been extinguished at its crater, and that the air was darkened by a ma.s.s of vapor, rendering the sunlight a mockery and a shadow. But this eclipse was our redemption. The next moment a sheet of cool water fell upon the s.h.i.+p, and in such incredible ma.s.ses, that many articles were washed overboard, and the door I held closely in my hands was borne away by the flood. The fire was completely extinguished, and, ere we knew it, the danger over.

Greatly puzzled how to account for the strange turn in our affairs, I was ready at the moment to attribute it to Judge E----, and I had almost settled the question that he was a necromancer, when he approached me, and putting an open volume in my hand, which I ascertained was a "History of the Republic of Guatemala," I read the following incident:

Nor is it true that volcanoes discharge only fire and molten lava from their craters. On the contrary, they frequently shower down water in almost incredible quant.i.ties, and cause oftentimes as much mischief by floods as they do by flames. An instance of this kind occurred in the year 1542, which completely demolished one half the buildings in the city of Guatemala. It was chiefly owing to this cause that the site of the city was changed; the ancient site being abandoned, and the present locality selected for the capital.[A-109]

[Footnote A-109: Thompson's History of Guatemala, p. 238.]

Six months after the events recorded above, I dismounted from my mule near the old _cabilda_ in the modern village of Palenque. During that interval I had met with the usual fortune of those who travel alone in the interior of the Spanish-American States. The war of castes was at its height, and the cry of _Carrera_ and _Morazan_ greeted the ear of the stranger at almost every turn of the road. Morazan represented the aristocratic idea, still prevalent amongst the better cla.s.ses in Central America; whilst Carrera, on the other hand, professed the wildest liberty and the extremest democracy. The first carried in his train the wealth, official power, and refinement of the country; the latter drew after him that huge old giant, _Plebs._, who in days gone by has pulled down so many thrones, built the groundwork of so many republics, and then, by fire and sword and barbarian ignorance, laid their trophies in the dust. My sense and sympathy took different directions. Reason led me to the side of Morazan; but early prejudices carried me over to Carrera.

Very soon, however, I was taught the lesson, that power in the hands of the rabble is the greatest curse with which a country can be afflicted, and that a _paper const.i.tution_ never yet made men free. I found out, too, that the entire population was a rabble and that it made but little difference which hero was in the ascendant. The plunder of the laboring-cla.s.ses was equally the object of both, and anarchy the fate of the country, no matter who held the reins. Civil wars have corrupted the whole population. The men are all _bravos_, and the women coquettes. The fireside virtues are unknown. It will be generations before those pseudo-republicans will learn that there can be no true patriotism where there is no country; there can be no country where there are no homes; there can be no home where woman rules not from the throne of Virtue with the sceptre of Love!

I had been robbed eighteen times in six months; taken prisoner four times by each party; sent in chains to the city of Guatemala, twice by Carrera, and once by Morazan as a spy; and condemned to be shot as a traitor by both chieftains. In each instance I owed my liberation to the American Consul-General, who, having heard the object with which I visited the country, determined that it should not be thwarted by these intestine broils.

Finally, as announced above, I reached the present termination of my journey, and immediately commenced preparations to explore the famous ruins in the neighborhood. The first want of a traveler, no matter whither he roams, is a guide; and I immediately called at the redstone residence of the Alcalde, and mentioned to him my name, the purport of my visit to Central America, and the object of my present call upon him.

Eying me closely from head to foot, he asked me if I had any money ("Tiene V. dinero?")

"Si, senor."

"Cuanto?"

"Poco mas de quinientos pesos."

"Bien; sientase."

So I took a seat upon a shuck-bottom stool, and awaited the next move of the high dignitary. Without responding directly to my application for a guide, he suddenly turned the conversation, and demanded if I was acquainted with Senor Catherwood or _el gobernador_. (I afterwards learned that Mr. Stephens was always called Governor by the native population in the vicinity of Palenque.) I responded in the negative. He then informed me that these gentlemen had sent him a copy of their work on Chiapas, and at the same time a large volume, that had been recently translated into Spanish by a member of the Spanish Academy, named Don Donoso Cortes, which he placed in my hands.

My astonishment can be better imagined than described, when, on turning to the t.i.tle-page, I ascertained that the book was called "_Nature's Divine Revelations_. By A. J. DAVIS. _Traducido, etc._"

Observing my surprise, the Alcalde demanded if I knew the author.

"Most a.s.suredly," said I; "he is my----" But I must not antic.i.p.ate.

After a.s.suring me that he regarded the work as the greatest book in the world, next to the Bible and Don Quixote, and that he fully believed every line in it, _including the preface_, he abruptly left the room, and went into the court-yard behind the house.

I had scarcely time to take a survey of the ill-furnished apartment, when he returned, leading in by a rope, made of horsehair, called a "larriete," a youth whose arms were pinioned behind him, and whose features wore the most remarkable expression I ever beheld.

Amazed, I demanded who this young man was, and why he had been introduced to my notice. He replied, without noticing in the slightest degree my surprise, that _Pio_--for that was his name--was the best guide to the ruins that the village afforded; that he was taken prisoner a few months before from a marauding party of _Caribs_ (here the young man gave a low, peculiar whistle and a negative shake of the head), and that if his escape could be prevented by me, he would be found to be invaluable.

I then asked Pio if he understood the Spanish language, but he evinced no comprehension of what I said. The Alcalde remarked that the _mozo_ was very cunning, and understood a great deal more than he pretended; that he was by law his (the Alcalde's) slave, being a Carib by birth, and uninstructed totally in religious exercises; in fact, that he was a neophyte, and had been placed in his hands by the Padre to teach the rudiments of Christianity.