Part 14

At sunset the oxen are released from their burdens at the nearest _tambo_, or resting-place, upon the way, and are kept overnight in sheds provided for them. At these places are drinking and gambling booths, with usually a number of dissolute women to tempt and entertain the cartmen. The evenings are spent in carousal, in dancing, and singing the peculiar native songs to the accompaniment of the “marimba,” the national instrument, which is, I believe, found in no other land.

The marimba is constructed of twenty-one pieces of split bamboo of graded lengths, strung upon two bars of the same wood according to harmonic sequence, thus furnishing three octaves. Underneath each strip of bamboo is a gourd, strung upon a wire, which takes the place of a sounding-board, and adds strength and sweetness to the tones. The performer takes the instrument upon his knees and strikes the bamboo strips with little hammers of padded leather, usually taking two between the fingers of each hand, so as to strike a chord of four notes, which he does with great dexterity. I have seen men play with three hammers in each hand, and use them as rapidly and skilfully as a pianist touches his keys. The tones of the marimba resemble those of the xylophone, which has recently become so popular, except that they are louder and more resonant. The instrument is peculiarly adapted to the native airs, which are plaintive but melodious. At all of the tambos where the cartmen stop marimbas are kept, and in every caravan are those who can handle them skilfully. Tourists generally travel in the cool hours of the morning and evening to avoid the blistering sun, and it is a welcome diversion to stop at the _bodegas_ to listen to the songs of the cartmen, and watch them dancing with darkeyed, barefooted señoritas.

The women of the lower classes do not wear either shoes or sandals, but go barefooted from infancy to old age; yet their feet are always small and shapely, and look very pretty under the short skirts that reach just below the knees. The native girls are comely and coquettish in the national dress,

which consists of nothing but a skirt and a chemise of white cotton, with a brilliantly colored scarf, or “reboza,” as they call it, thrown over their heads and shoulders, and serving the double purpose of a shawl and bonnet. The features of the women are small and even, and their teeth are perfect. Their forms, untrammelled by skirts and corsets, are slender and supple in girlhood, and the scanty garments, sleeveless, and reaching only from the shoulders to the knees, disclose every outline of their figures, and are worn without a suggestion of immodesty. Such a costume in the United States would call for police interference; but one soon becomes accustomed to bare arms and necks and legs, and learns that these innocent creatures are quite as jealous of their chastity as their sisters in the land where the standard of civilization forbids the disclosure of personal charms outside the ball-room or the bathing beach. The ladies of the aristocracy imitate the Parisian fashions, except that hats and bonnets are almost unknown. They seldom leave their homes except to go to mass, and at the entrance of a church every head must be uncovered.

There is not a millinery store in the land. Every woman wears a “reboza” of a texture suitable to her rank and wealth, and as it is not considered proper to expose their faces in public, the scarf is generally drawn over the features so as to conceal all but their ravishing eyes. And it is well that this is so, for they plaster their faces with a composition of magnesia and the whites of eggs that gives them a ghastly appearance, and effectually conceals, as it ultimately destroys, the freshness and purity of their complexions. This stuff is renewed at frequent intervals, and is never washed off.

There is a popular prejudice against bathing. A man who has been on a journey will not wash the dust off his face for several days after arrival, particularly if he has come from a lower to a higher altitude, as it is believed that the opening of the pores of the skin is certain to bring on a fever.

While passing over a dusty road upon a hot, sultry day I dismounted at a foaming brook, rolled up my sleeves, and commenced to bathe my head and face and arms. The guide who was with me cried “Caramba!” in astonishment, and tried to pull me away. When I demanded an explanation of his extraordinary behavior he begged me for the love of the Virgin not to wash my face, for I would certainly come down with the fever the next day. I smiled at this remonstrance, and gave myself a refreshing bath, while he looked on as solemnlv as if I intended to commit suicide. For an hour after, as we travelled on, he muttered prayers to the Virgin and his patron saint to protect me from the fever, and to-day no doubt believes that I was saved by the interposition of Divine power in answer to his petitions. He afterwards reproached me for not having made a vow because of my remarkable deliverance.

However, if anybody supposes that the inhabitants of the little republic are uncouth, unmannerly, or uneducated, he makes a great mistake. They are quite up to our standard of intelligence, and although education is not so universal as in this country, the leading families of Costa Rica are as cultivated as our own. They surpass us in social graces, in conversational powers, in linguistic and other accomplishments. They have keener perceptions than we, are more carefully observant of the nicer proprieties, can usually speak one or two languages besides their own fluently, and have a cultivated taste for music and the arts. No Costa-Rican lady or gentleman is ever embarrassed; they always know how to do and say the proper thing, and while in many cases their sympathetic interest in your welfare may be only skin-deep, and their affectionate phrases insincere, they are nevertheless the most hospitable of hosts and the most charming of companions. In commerce as well as in society this deportment is universal; in their stores and offices they are as polite as in their parlors, and the same manners are found in every caste. No laborer ever passes a lady in the street without lifting his hat; every gentleman is respectfully saluted, whether he be a stranger or an acquaintance, and in the rural districts whoever you meet says, “May the Virgin prosper you!” or “May Heaven smile upon your errand!” or “May your patron saint protect you from all harm!” He may not care a straw whether you reach the end of your journey or not, and may not have any more regard for your welfare than the fleas on his coat, and if you ask him how far it is to the next place he will tell you a falsehood, but he recognizes and practises the beautiful custom of the country, and says, “God be with you!” as if he intended it as a blessing.

The Government supports a good university at San José, under the direction of Dr. Juan F. Ferras, and a system of free graded schools, managed by the Minister of Education, who is a member of the cabinet. Education is compulsory, the law requiring the attendance of all children between the ages of eight and fourteen; and it is enforced, except in the sparsely settled districts where the schools are infrequent. Those who send their children to private schools, or do not send them at all, are subject to a heavy fine, which goes into the school fund. There is also a poll-tax for the support of the educational system. The schools are entirely free from sectarian influences. In fact, both the Minister of Education and the Director of the University belong to the German school of materialists, towards which all men of education in these countries drift when they leave the Mother Church. There is no other place for them to go. The Protestants in San José have a little chapel where the Church of England service is recited, hymns are sung, and usually Sabbath mornings a selected sermon from some published volume is read by a lay member; but the flock is too small to support a pastor, and none of the missionary societies in England or America appear to care to enter the field. During the administration of President Guardia there was a constitutional amendment adopted separating the Church and the State. The monks and nuns were expelled from the country, the monasteries and nunneries confiscated, and by legislation the priests were deprived of much of their power and perquisites. In 1884, a few months before his death, the late President Fernandez expelled the archbishop from the country. The latter went to him demanding a voice in the management of the university, and a share of the public funds for the use of the Catholic Theological Seminary. The controversy was heated, and when the archbishop departed from the Presidential mansion he left the curse of Rome behind him. Fernandez, hearing that his Grace was talking about a revolution, sent him a passport and a file of soldiers to escort him out of the country, to which he has not been allowed to return.

The confessional is open and public by law, and the priests are forbidden to wear their vestments in the streets. But these statutes are not enforced, and, regardless of the offensive attitude of the Government, the devotion of the masses to the Church is quite as marked as in any of the Catholic countries. The intelligent families, however, are gradually growing unmindful of their ancestral religion, and the next generation will see a more rapid decline of the power of the priests. Business and professional men never attend mass, leaving that duty to their wives and daughters and servants. They are seldom seen inside a church, except upon occasions of ceremony or at funerals. But the women invariably attend mass each morning.

A familiar sight in Costa Rica is a death procession. When some one is dying the friends send for a priest to shrive him. The latter comes, not silently and solemnly, a minister of grace and consolation, but accompanied by a brass band, if the family are rich enough to pay for it (the priest receiving a liberal commission on the business), or, if they are poor, by a number of boys ringing bells and chanting hymns. Behind the band or bell-boys are two acolytes, one bearing a crucifix and the other swinging an incense urn. Then follows the priest in a wooden box or chair, covered by a canopy, and carried by four men wearing the sacramental vestments, and holding in his hand, covered with a napkin, the Host--the emblem of the body of Christ. People upon the streets kneel as the procession passes, and then follow it. Reaching the house of the dying, the band or bell-ringers stand outside, making all the disturbance they can, while the priest, followed by a motley rabble, enters the death-chamber, administers the sacrament, and confesses the dying soul. Then the procession returns to the church as it came. Going and coming, and while at the house, the band plays or the bells are rung constantly, and all the men, women, and children within hearing fall upon their knees, whether in the street or at their labor, and pray for the repose of the departing spirit.

Funerals are occasions of great ceremony. Notices, or _avisos_, as they are called, are printed and posted upon all of the dead-walls, like announcements of an auction or an opera, and printed invitations are sent to all the acquaintances of the deceased. The priests charge a large fee for attendance, proportionate to the means of the family, and when they are poor it is common for some one to solicit contributions to pay it. The spectacle of a beggar sitting at a street corner asking alms to pay the burial fee of his wife or child is a very common one, and quite as often one can see a father carrying in his arms to the cemetery the coffin of a little one, not being able to pay for a priest and a carriage too.

The number of illegitimate births in the country is accounted for, not so much by a low state of morals; as by the enormous fees exacted by the priests for performing marriage ceremonies. Unfortunately the Government has not yet established the civil rite, as is the case in several of the Spanish-American States. It takes all a peon can earn in three months to pay the priest that officiates at his nuptials.

The Government of Costa Rica consists of a President, two Vice-Presidents, who are named by the President, and are called Designado Primero and Designado Segundo (the first and second designated). They have authority to act in the place of the President in case of his absence from the seat of government, or in the event of his death or disability, and he is responsible for their official conduct.

There is a Congress, consisting of a Senate of twelve members and a Chamber of Deputies of twenty-four, elected biennially, as in the United States. Also a Council of six men, selected from the Congress by the President, who act as a sort of cabinet and Supreme Court combined. They are continually in session, have power to review the decisions of the courts, to reverse or affirm them, to issue decrees which have the force of law until the next session of the Congress, to audit the accounts of the Treasury, and perform various other acts. This Council is confirmed by the Congress, and is supposed to act as a check upon the President and the judiciary. The President has a cabinet of two members, appointed by himself, and they are usually the two Vice-Presidents, or Designados. To one he will assign the duty of looking after foreign affairs and the finances of the Government, while the other will have the army, the educational system, and other internal affairs to manage.

The successor of the famous cow-boy President, Guardia, was his brother-in-law, General Prospero Fernandez, one of his lieutenants in the revolution by which he came into power,

and who was made commander-in-chief of the army of two hundred and fifty men when Guardia took the Executive chair. He was a man of fine appearance, but of dull and slow mental powers, spending most of his time upon his hacienda, or plantation, and leaving the affairs of the State to his secretaries, Don Jesus Maria Castro and Don Bernardo de Soto. Fernandez died before the expiration of his term, in the spring of 1885, and was succeeded by De Soto, a young man of whom much is expected. He was a pet and protégé of the great Guardia, and after graduating at the University of San José was sent to Europe to complete his education, and by a study of the world as well as books to qualify himself to succeed his patron in the Presidential chair. Guardia died, however, before De Soto had reached the age that made him eligible to the Presidency, and Fernandez stepped in to fill the interim. He conscientiously acted as a sort of trustee or executor of Guardia’s will, and made the young man, then only twenty-seven, his Minister of War, Education, and Public Works. When Fernandez died De Soto assumed the Presidency, just as if he had inherited a crown, there being no other candidate. The President has just passed his thirtieth birthday, and commands the respect and confidence of the people.

Costa Rica was the first discovered of all the countries on this Continent, but of its resources the least is known. The Cordilleras of the Andes pass through the republic from the south-east to the north-west. South of Cartago they divide into two ranges, one running up the Pacific coast, and the other tending towards the Atlantic until it is broken off at Lake Nicaragua. These ranges not only enclose rich valleys, in the chief of which is San José, but along their slopes on either side are extensive tracts of land already cleared and abounding in fertility. Along the coast are large areas of jungle and plains of more or less extent, only slightly developed because of the malarious atmosphere. The Pacific coast is healthier and more thickly settled. A large prairie covers the northern part of the republic, upon which many cattle are grazed, and it extends over the Nicaragua boundary. In the north-eastern corner is an extensive forest, inhabited by bands of roaming Indians, and full of the most valuable timber.

What the country needs is enterprise and capital, and these it must secure by immigration. The population has increased somewhat during the last half century, but entirely from natural causes, as more people have moved away than have come in to settle. No attempt has been made by the Government to attract immigrants until recently, for years ago the conservative element of the population were opposed to inviting strangers into their midst. This sentiment has, however, died out, and there is an increasing desire to do something to call in capital and labor.

The staple products of the country are coffee, corn, sugar, cocoa, bananas, and other tropical fruits, but only coffee and bananas are exported in any quantity. The increase in the coffee crop has been very large, the product in 1850 being fourteen million pounds, while in 1884 it was over forty million. The quality is said to be superior to that grown elsewhere, and the yield greater in proportion to the number of trees. England and France take the greater share of the crop, the exports to the United States reaching only eight million five hundred thousand pounds in 1884. The land is practically free, for the Government sells it at a nominal price per acre, and allows long time for payment. Quite a number of settlers from the United States and the West Indies have come in recently and located on the line of the eastern road, which is to connect Port Limon, on the Atlantic, with the interior.

NOTE TO SECOND EDITION.--On the 29th and 30th of December, 1888, Costa Rica was visited by the most destructive earthquake ever known there. Nearly all the cities and settlements suffered more or less, but San José was almost entirely destroyed. Three-fourths of the buildings were either shaken down or shattered beyond repair, including all the official structures, the Capitol, the President’s residence, and the Cathedral. The loss to the Government alone is estimated at $2,000,000, while that suffered by private individuals was several times that amount. No official report upon the loss of life has been made, and the estimates vary from three hundred to seven hundred and fifty.

BOGOTA.

THE CAPITAL OF COLOMBIA.

Although geographically one of our nearest neighbors, Bogota, the capital of the United States of Colombia, is almost as far distant by days, if not by miles, from New York as the interior of India, and quite as difficult to reach. Until recently there has been no direct communication by steam between the ports of Colombia and those of our own country. Within the last three years an English company has established a line of steamships between New York and the mouth of the Magdalena River. Two trips a month are made, the vessels touching at several of the West India ports en route, and making the voyage to Barranquilla in fifteen days. Three times a month the Pacific Mail steamers leave New York for Aspinwall, where a steamer for the Colombian ports and Europe sails almost every day, under the flag of England, Germany, France, Spain, Italy, or the Netherlands. The voyage _via_ Aspinwall requires about the same time as the other, fifteen days. There ought to be direct communication not only from New York, but from the Gulf ports, as the demands of commerce require it; and a much larger trade might be obtained if conveniences of transportation existed. But the policy of the United Stated Congress in refusing to aid steamship lines, even by the payment of reasonable compensation for the carriage of mails, prohibits capitalists from investing money in such enterprises, as they would be compelled to compete with the subsidized companies of Europe.

Excepting Aspinwall, which is a cosmopolitan place, the city of Barranquilla is the principal port of Colombia, and to it all merchandise and passengers bound for Bogota and the interior of the country must go. In the old Spanish colony times Carthagena was the greatest commercial metropolis of Colombia, or New Granada, as it was then called; and it is one of the quaintest, as it is one of the oldest, cities in South America. In the time of Philip the Second it was the most strongly fortified place on the continent, and the headquarters of the Spanish naval forces in the New World. It was the rendezvous of the Spanish galleons which came to South America for treasure. There are many rich mines in the mountains back of the city, which have produced millions in silver and gold. Here came the pirates to plunder. They committed so much damage that the King of Spain thought it worth his while to build a wall around the entire city, on the top of which forty horses can walk abreast, and which is said to have cost ninety million dollars.

Carthagena was the seat of the Inquisition, and in Charles Kingsley’s novel, “Westward Ho!” its readers will find a charming description of the place. It was here that Frank and the Rose of Devon were imprisoned by the priests, and the old Inquisition building in which they were tortured and burned is still standing. But it is no longer used for the confinement and crucifixion of heretics. For nearly sixty years after the overthrow of the Catholic Church it stood empty, but it is now occupied as a tobacco factory. There is an underground passage between the old Inquisition building and an ancient fortress upon a hill overlooking Carthagena, through which prisoners used to be conducted, and communication maintained in time of siege; but, like everything else about the place, it has long been in a state of decay. Some years ago a party of American naval officers attempted to explore the passage, but found it filled with obstructions, and were compelled to abandon the enterprise. The old castle is obsolete now, and in a state of ruin, being used only as a signal station. When a vessel enters the harbor a flag is run up by a man on guard to notify the Captain of the Port and the merchants of its arrival.