Personal Narrative of Travels to the Equinoctial Regions of

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Part 1 of 3

CHAPTER 3.29. POLITICAL ESSAY ON THE ISLAND OF CUBA. THE HAVANNAH. HILLS OF GUANAVACOA, CONSIDERED IN THEIR GEOLOGICAL RELATIONS. VALLEY OF LOS GUINES, BATABANO, AND PORT OF TRINIDAD. THE KING AND QUEEN'S GARDENS.

Cuba owes its political importance to a variety of circumstances, among which may be enumerated the extent of its surface, the fertility of its soil, its naval establishments, and the nature of its population, of which three-fifths are free men. All these advantages are heightened by the admirable position of the Havannah. The northern part of the Caribbean Sea, known by the name of the Gulf of Mexico, forms a circular basin more than two hundred and fifty leagues in diameter: it is a Mediterranean with two outlets. The island of Cuba, or rather its coast between Cape St. Antonio and the town of Matanzas, situated at the opening of the old channel, closes the Gulf of Mexico on the south-east, leaving the ocean current known by the name of the Gulf Stream, no other outlet on the south than a strait between Cape St. Antonio and Cape Catoche; and no other on the north than the channel of Bahama, between Bahia-Honda and the shoals of Florida. Near the northern outlet, where the highways of so many nations may be said to cross each other, lies the fine port of the Havannah, fortified at once by nature and by art. The fleets which sail from this port and which are partly constructed of the cedrela and the mahogany of the island of Cuba, might, at the entrance of the Mexican Mediterranean, menace the opposite coast, as the fleets that sail from Cadiz command the Atlantic near the Pillars of Hercules. In the meridian of the Havannah the Gulf of Mexico, the old channel, and the channel of Bahama unite. The opposite direction of the currents and the violent agitations of the atmosphere at the setting-in of winter impart a peculiar character to these latitudes at the extreme limit of the equinoctial zone.

The island of Cuba is the largest of the Antilles.* (* Its area is little less in extent than that of England not including Wales.) Its long and narrow form gives it a vast development of coast and places it in proximity with Hayti and Jamaica, with the most southern province of the United States (Florida) and the most easterly province of the Mexican Confederation (Yucatan).* (* These places are brought into communication one with another by a voyage of ten or twelve days.) This circumstance claims serious attention when it is considered that Jamaica, St. Domingo, Cuba and the southern parts of the United States (from Louisiana to Virginia) contain nearly two million eight hundred thousand Africans. Since the separation of St. Domingo, the Floridas and New Spain from the mother-country, the island of Cuba is connected only by similarity of religion, language and manners with the neighbouring countries, which, during ages, were subject to the same laws.

Florida forms the last link in that long chain, the northern extremity of which reaches the basin of St. Lawrence and extends from the region of palm-trees to that of the most rigorous winter. The inhabitant of New England regards the increasing augmentation of the black population, the preponderance of the slave states and the predilection for the cultivation of colonial products as a public danger; and earnestly wishes that the strait of Florida, the present limit of the great American confederation, may never be passed but with the views of free trade, founded on equal rights. If he fears events which may place the Havannah under the dominion of a European power more formidable than Spain, he is not the less desirous that the political ties by which Louisiana, Pensacola and Saint Augustin of Florida were heretofore united to the island of Cuba may for ever be broken.

The extreme sterility of the soil, joined to the want of inhabitants and of cultivation, have at all times rendered the proximity of Florida of small importance to the trade of the Havannah; but the case is different on the coast of Mexico. The shores of that country, stretching in a semicircle from the frequented ports of Tampico, Vera Cruz, and Alvarado to Cape Catoche, almost touch, by the peninsula of Yucatan, the western part of the island of Cuba. Commerce is extremely active between the Havannah and the port of Campeachy; and it increases, notwithstanding the new order of things in Mexico, because the trade, equally illicit with a more distant coast, that of Caracas or Columbia, employs but a small number of vessels. In such difficult times the supply of salt meat (tasajo) for the slaves is more easily obtained from Buenos Ayres and the plains of Merida than from those of Cumana, Barcelona and Caracas. The island of Cuba and the archipelago of the Philippines have for ages derived from New Spain the funds necessary for their internal administration and for keeping up their fortifications, arsenals and dockyards. The Havannah was the military port of the New World; and, till 1808, annually received 1,800,000 piastres from the Mexican treasury. At Madrid it was long the custom to consider the island of Cuba and the archipelago of the Philippines as dependencies on Mexico, situated at very unequal distances east and west of Vera Cruz and Acapulco, but linked to the Mexican metropolis (then a European colony) by all the ties of commerce, mutual aid and ancient sympathies. Increased internal wealth has rendered unnecessary the pecuniary succour formerly furnished to Cuba from the Mexican treasury. Of all the Spanish possessions that island has been most prosperous: the port of the Havannah has, since the troubles of St. Domingo, become one of the most important points of the commercial world. A fortunate concurrence of political circumstances, joined to the intelligence and commercial activity of the inhabitants, have preserved to the Havannah the uninterrupted enjoyment of free intercourse with foreign nations.

I twice visited this island, residing there on one occasion for three months, and on the other for six weeks; and I enjoyed the confidence of persons who, from their abilities and their position, were enabled to furnish me with the best information. In company with M. Bonpland I visited only the vicinity of the Havannah, the beautiful valley of Guines and the coast between Batabano and the port of Trinidad. After having succinctly described the aspect of this scenery and the singular modifications of a climate so different from that of the other islands, I will proceed to examine the general population of the Island of Cuba; its area calculated from the most accurate sketch of the coast; the objects of trade and the state of the public revenue.

The aspect of the Havannah, at the entrance of the port, is one of the gayest and most picturesque on the shore of equinoctial America north of the equator. This spot is celebrated by travellers of all nations. It boasts not the luxuriant vegetation that adorns the banks of the river Guayaquil nor the wild majesty of the rocky coast of Rio de Janeiro; but the grace which in those climates embellishes the scenes of cultivated nature is at the Havannah mingled with the majesty of vegetable forms and the organic vigour that characterizes the torrid zone. On entering the port of the Havannah you pass between the fortress of the Morro (Castillo de los Santos Reyes) and the fort of San Salvador de la Punta: the opening being only from one hundred and seventy to two hundred toises wide. Having passed this narrow entrance, leaving on the north the fine castle of San Carlos de la Cabana and the Casa Blanca, we reach a basin in the form of a trefoil of which the great axis, stretching from south-south-west to north-north-east, is two miles and one-fifth long. This basin communicates with three creeks, those of Regla, Guanavacoa and Atares; in this last there are some springs of fresh water. The town of the Havannah, surrounded by walls, forms a promontory bounded on the south by the arsenal and on the north by the fort of La Punta. After passing beyond some wrecks of vessels sunk in the shoals of La Luz, we no longer find eight or ten, but five or six fathoms of water. The castles of Santo Domingo de Atares and San Carlos del Principe defend the town on the westward; they are distant from the interior wall, on the land side, the one 660 toises, the other 1240. The intermediate space is filled by the suburbs (arrabales or barrios extra muros) of the Horcon, Jesu-Maria, Guadaloupe and Senor de la Salud, which from year to year encroach on the Field of Mars (Campo de Marte). The great edifices of the Havannah, the cathedral, the Casa del Govierno, the house of the commandant of the marine, the Correo or General Post Office and the factory of Tobacco are less remarkable for beauty than for solidity of structure. The streets are for the most part narrow and unpaved. Stones being brought from Vera Cruz, and very difficult of transport, the idea was conceived a short time before my voyage of joining great trunks of trees together, as is done in Germany and Russia, when dykes are constructed across marshy places. This project was soon abandoned and travellers newly arrived beheld with surprise fine trunks of mahogany sunk in the mud of the Havannah. At the time of my sojourn there few towns of Spanish America presented, owing to the want of a good police, a more unpleasant aspect. People walked in mud up to the knee; and the multitude of caleches or volantes (the characteristic equipage of the Havannah) of carts loaded with casks of sugar, and porters elbowing passengers, rendered walking most disagreeable. The smell of tasajo often poisons the houses and the winding streets. But it appears that of late the police has interposed and that a manifest improvement has taken place in the cleanliness of the streets; that the houses are more airy and that the Calle de los Mercadores presents a fine appearance. Here, as in the oldest towns of Europe. an ill-traced plan of streets can only be amended by slow degrees.

There are two fine public walks; one called the Alameda, between the hospital of Santa Paula and the theatre, and the other between the Castillo de la Punta and the Puerta de la Muralla, called the Paseo extra muros; the latter is deliciously cool and is frequented by carriages after sunset. It was begun by the Marquis de la Torre, governor of the island, who gave the first impulse to the improvement of the police and the municipal government. Don Luis de las Casas and the Count de Santa Clara enlarged the plantations. Near the Campo de Marte is the Botanical Garden which is well worthy to fix the attention of the government; and another place fitted to excite at once pity and indignation—the barracoon, in front of which the wretched slaves are exposed for sale. A marble statue of Charles III has been erected since my return to Europe, in the extra muros walk. This spot was at first destined for a monument to Christopher Columbus whose ashes, after the cession of the Spanish part of St. Domingo, were brought to the island of Cuba.*

(* Columbus lies buried in the cathedral of the Havannah, close to the wall near the high altar. On the tomb is the following inscription:

O restos y Imagen del grande Colon;
Mil siglos duran guardados en la Urna,
Y en remembranca de nuestra Nacion.
Oh relics and image of the great Colon (Columbus)
A thousand ages are encompassed in thy Urn,
And in the memory of our Nation.

His remains were first deposited at Valladolid and thence were removed to Seville. In 1536 the bodies of Columbus and of his son Diego (El Adelantado) were carried to St. Domingo and there interred in the cathedral; but they were afterwards removed to the place where they now repose.)

The same year the ashes of Fernando Cortez were transferred in Mexico from one church to another: thus, at the close of the eighteenth century, the remains of the two greatest men who promoted the conquest of America were interred in new sepulchres.

The most majestic palm-tree of its tribe, the palma real, imparts a peculiar character to the landscape in the vicinity of the Havannah; it is the Oreodoxa regia of our description of American palm-trees. Its tall trunk, slightly swelled towards the middle, grows to the height of 60 or 80 feet; the upper part is glossy, of a delicate green, newly formed by the closing and dilatation of the petioles, contrasts with the rest, which is whitish and fendilated. It appears like two columns, the one surmounting the other. The palma real of the island of Cuba has feathery leaves rising perpendicularly towards the sky, and curved only at the point. The form of this plant reminded us of the vadgiai palm-tree which covers the rocks in the cataracts of the Orinoco, balancing its long points over a mist of foam. Here, as in every place where the population is concentrated, vegetation diminishes. Those palm-trees round the Havannah and in the amphitheatre of Regla on which I delighted to gaze are disappearing by degrees. The marshy places which I saw covered with bamboos are cultivated and drained. Civilization advances; and the soil, gradually stripped of plants, scarcely offers any trace of its wild abundance. From the Punta to San Lazaro, from Cabana to Regla and from Regla to Atares the road is covered with houses, and those that surround the bay are of light and elegant construction. The plan of these houses is traced out by the owners, and they are ordered from the United States, like pieces of furniture. When the yellow fever rages at the Havannah the proprietors withdraw to those country houses and to the hills between Regla and Guanavacoa to breathe a purer air. In the coolness of night, when the boats cross the bay, and owing to the phosphorescence of the water, leave behind them long tracks of light, these romantic scenes afford charming and peaceful retreats for those who wish to withdraw from the tumult of a populous city. To judge of the progress of cultivation travellers should visit the small plots of maize and other alimentary plants, the rows of pine-apples (ananas) in the fields of Cruz de Piedra and the bishop's garden (Quinta del Obispo) which of late is become a delicious spot.

The town of the Havannah, properly so called, surrounded by walls, is only 900 toises long and 500 broad; yet more than 44,000 inhabitants, of whom 26,000 are negroes and mulattoes, are crowded together in this narrow space. A population nearly as considerable occupies the two great suburbs of Jesu-Maria and La Salud.* (* Salud signifies Health.) The latter place does not verify the name it bears; the temperature of the air is indeed lower than in the city but the streets might have been larger and better planned. Spanish engineers, who have been waging war for thirty years past with the inhabitants of the suburbs (arrabales), have convinced the government that the houses are too near the fortifications, and that the enemy might establish himself there with impunity. But the government has not courage to demolish the suburbs and disperse a population of 28,000 inhabitants collected in La Salud only. Since the great fire of 1802 that quarter has been considerably enlarged; barracks were at first constructed, but by degrees they have been converted into private houses. The defence of the Havannah on the west is of the highest importance: so long as the besieged are masters of the town, properly so called, and of the southern part of the bay, the Morro and La Cabana, they are impregnable because they can be provisioned by the Havannah, and the losses of the garrison repaired. I have heard well-informed French engineers observe that an enemy should begin his operations by taking the town, in order to bombard the Cabana, a strong fortress, but where the garrison, shut up in the casemates, could not long resist the insalubrity of the climate. The English took the Morro without being masters of the Havannah; but the Cabana and the Fort Number 4 which commands the Morro did not then exist. The most important works on the south and west are the Castillos de Atares y del Principe, and the battery of Santa Clara.

We employed the months of December, January and February in making observations in the vicinity of the Havannah and the fine plains of Guines. We experienced, in the family of Senor Cuesta (who then formed with Senor Santa Maria one of the greatest commercial houses in America) and in the house of Count O'Reilly, the most generous hospitality. We lived with the former and deposited our collections and instruments in the spacious hotel of Count O'Reilly, where the terraces favoured our astronomical observations. The longitude of the Havannah was at this period more than one fifth of a degree uncertain.* (* I also fixed, by direct observations, several positions in the interior of the island of Cuba: namely Rio Blanco, a plantation of Count Jaruco y Mopex; the Almirante, a plantation of the Countess Buenavista; San Antonio de Beitia; the village of Managua; San Antonio de Bareto; and the Fondadero, near the town of San Antonio de los Banos.). It had been fixed by M. Espinosa, the learned director of the Deposito hidrografico of Madrid, at 5 degrees 38 minutes 11 seconds, in a table of positions which he communicated to me on leaving Madrid. M. de Churruca fixed the Morro at 5 hours 39 minutes 1 second. I met at the Havannah with one of the most able officers of the Spanish navy, Captain Don Dionisio Galeano, who had taken a survey of the coast of the strait of Magellan. We made observations together on a series of eclipses of the satellites of Jupiter, of which the mean result gave 5 hours 38 minutes 50 seconds. M. Oltmanns deduced in 1805 the whole of those observations which I marked for the Morro, at 5 hours 38 minutes 52.5 seconds—84 degrees 43 minutes 7.5 seconds west of the meridian of Paris. This longitude was confirmed by fifteen occultations of stars observed from 1809 to 1811 and calculated by M. Ferrer: that excellent observer fixes the definitive result at 5 degrees 38 minutes 50.9 seconds. With respect to the magnetic dip I found it by the compass of Borda (December 1800) 53 degrees 22 minutes of the old sexagesimal division: twenty-two years before, according to the very accurate observations made by Captain Sabine in his memorable voyage to the coasts of Africa, America and Spitzbergen, the dip was only 51 degrees 55 minutes; it had therefore diminished 1 degree 27 minutes.

The island of Cuba being surrounded with shoals and breakers along more than two-thirds of its length, and as ships keep out beyond those dangers, the real shape of the island was for a long time unknown. Its breadth, especially between the Havannah and the port of Batabano, has been exaggerated; and it is only since the Deposito hidrografico of Madrid published the observations of captain Don Jose del Rio, and lieutenant Don Ventura de Barcaiztegui, that the area of the island of Cuba could be calculated with any accuracy. Wishing to furnish in this work the most accurate result that can be obtained in the present state of our astronomical knowledge, I engaged M. Bauza to calculate the area. He found, in June, 1835, the surface of the island of Cuba, without the Isla dos Pinos, to be 3520 square sea leagues, and with that island 3615. From this calculation, which has been twice repeated, it results that the island of Cuba is one-seventh less than has hitherto been believed; that it is 32/100 larger than Hayti, or San Domingo; that its surface equals that of Portugal, and within one-eighth that of England without Wales; and that if the whole archipelago of the Antilles presents as great an area as the half of Spain, the island of Cuba alone almost equals in surface the other Great and Small Antilles. Its greatest length, from Cape San Antonio to Point Maysi (in a direction from west-south-west to east-north-east and from west-north-west to east-south-east) is 227 leagues; and its greatest breadth (in the direction north and south), from Point Maternillo to the mouth of the Magdalena, near Peak Tarquino, is 37 leagues. The mean breadth of the island, on four-fifths of its length, between the Havannah and Puerto Principe, is 15 leagues. In the best cultivated part, between the Havannah and Batabano, the isthmus is only eight sea leagues. Among the great islands of the globe, that of Java most resembles the island of Cuba in its form and area (4170 square leagues). Cuba has a circumference of coast of 520 leagues, of which 280 belong to the south shore, between Cape San Antonio and Punta Maysi.

The island of Cuba, over more than four-fifths of its surface, is composed of low lands. The soil is covered with secondary and tertiary formations, formed by some rocks of gneiss-granite, syenite and euphotide. The knowledge obtained hitherto of the geologic configuration of the country, is as unsatisfactory as what is known respecting the relative age and nature of the soil. It is only ascertained that the highest group of mountains lies at the south-eastern extremity of the island, between Cape Cruz, Punta Maysi, and Holguin. This mountainous part, called the Sierra or Las Montanas del Cobre (the Copper Mountains), situated north-west of the town of Santiago de Cuba, appears to be about 1200 toises in height. If this calculation be correct, the summits of the Sierra would command those of the Blue Mountains of Jamaica, and the peaks of La Selle and La Hotte in the island of San Domingo. The Sierra of Tarquino, fifty miles west of the town of Cuba, belongs to the same group as the Copper Mountains. The island is crossed from east-south-east to west-north-west by a chain of hills, which approach the southern coast between the meridians of La Ciudad de Puerto Principe and the Villa Clara; while, further to the westward towards Alvarez and Matanzas, they stretch in the direction of the northern coast. Proceeding from the mouth of the Rio Guaurabo to the Villa de la Trinidad, I saw on the north-west, the Lomas de San Juan, which form needles or horns more than 300 toises high, with their declivities sloping regularly to the south. This calcareous group presents a majestic aspect, as seen from the anchorage near the Cayo de Piedras. Xagua and Batabano are low coasts; and I believe that, in general, west of the meridian of Matanzas, there is no hill more than 200 toises high, with the exception of the Pan de Guaixabon. The land in the interior of the island is gently undulated, as in England; and it rises only from 45 to 50 toises above the level of the sea. The objects most visible at a distance, and most celebrated by navigators, are the Pan de Matanzas, a truncated cone which has the form of a small monument; the Arcos de Canasi, which appear between Puerto Escondido and Jaruco, like small segments of a circle; the Mesa de Mariel, the Tetas de Managua, and the Pan de Guaixabon. This gradual slope of the limestone formations of the island of Cuba towards the north and west indicates the submarine connection of those rocks with the equally low lands of the Bahama Islands, Florida and Yucatan.

Intellectual cultivation and improvement were so long restricted to the Havannah and the neighbouring districts, that we cannot be surprised at the ignorance prevailing among the inhabitants respecting the geologic formation of the Copper Mountains. Don Francisco Ramirez, a traveller versed in chemical and mineralogical science, informed me that the western part of the island is granitic, and that he there observed gneiss and primitive slate. Probably the alluvial deposits of auriferous sand which were explored with much ardour* at the beginning of the conquest, to the great misfortune of the natives came from those granitic formations (* At Cubanacan, that is, in the interior of the island, near Jagua and Trinidad, where the auriferous sands have been washed by the waters as far as the limestone soil. Martyr d'Anghiera, the most intelligent writer on the Conquest, says: "Cuba is richer in gold than Hispaniola (San Domingo); and at the moment I am writing, 180,000 castillanos of ore have been collected at Cuba." Herrera estimates the tax called King's-fifth (quinto del Rey), in the island of Cuba, at 6000 pesos, which indicates an annual product of 2000 marks of gold, at 22 carats; and consequently purer than the gold of Sibao in San Domingo. In 1804 the mines of Mexico altogether produced 7000 marks of gold; and those of Peru 3400. It is difficult, in these calculations, to distinguish between the gold sent to Spain by the first Conquistadores, that obtained by washings, and that which had been accumulated for ages in the hands of the natives, who were pillaged at will. Supposing that in the two islands of Cuba and San Domingo (in Cubanacan and Cibao) the product of the washings was 3000 marks of gold, we find a quantity three times less than the gold furnished annually (1790 to 1805) by the small province of Choco. In this supposition of ancient wealth there is nothing improbable; and if we are surprised at the scanty produce of the gold-washings attempted in our days at Cuba and San Domingo, which were heretofore so prolific, it must be recollected that at Brazil also the product of the gold-washings has fallen, from 1760 to 1820, from 6600 gold kilogrammes to less than 595. Lumps of gold weighing several pounds, found in our days in Florida and North and South Carolina, prove the primitive wealth of the whole basin of the Antilles from the island of Cuba to the Appalachian chain. It is also natural that the product of the gold-washings should diminish with greater rapidity than that of the subterraneous working of the veins. The metals not being renewed in the clefts of the veins (by sublimation) now accumulate in alluvial soil by the course of the rivers where the table-lands are higher than the level of the surrounding running waters. But in rocks with metalliferous veins the miner does not at once know all he has to work. He may chance to lengthen the labours, to go deep, and to cross other accompanying veins. Alluvial soils are generally of small depth where they are auriferous; they most frequently rest upon sterile rocks. Their superficial position and uniformity of composition help to the knowledge of their limits, and wherever workmen can be collected, and where the waters for the washings abound, accelerate the total working of the auriferous clay. These considerations, suggested by the history of the Conquest, and by the science of mining, may throw some light on the problem of the metallic wealth of Hayti. In that island, as well as at Brazil, it would be more profitable to attempt subterraneous workings (on veins) in primitive and intermediary soils than to renew the gold-washings which were abandoned in the ages of barbarism, rapine and carnage.); traces of that sand are still found in the rivers Holguin and Escambray, known in general in the vicinity of Villa-Clara, Santo Espiritu, Puerto del Principe de Bayamo and the Bahia de Nipe. The abundance of copper mentioned by the Conquistadores of the sixteenth century, at a period when the Spaniards were more attentive than they have been in latter times to the natural productions of America, may possibly be attributed to the formations of amphibolic slate, transition clay-slate mixed with diorite, and to euphotides analogous to those I found in the mountains of Guanabacoa.

The central and western parts of the island contain two formations of compact limestone; one of clayey sandstone and another of gypsum. The former has, in its aspect and composition, some resemblance to the Jura formation. It is white, or of a clear ochre-yellow, with a dull fracture, sometimes conchoidal, sometimes smooth; divided into thin layers, furnishing some balls of pyromac silex, often hollow (at Rio Canimar two leagues east of Matanzas), and petrifications of pecten, cardites, terebratules and madrepores.* (* I saw neither gryphites nor ammonites of Jura limestone nor the nummulites and cerites of coarse limestone.) I found no oolitic beds, but porous beds almost bulbous, between the Potrero del Conde de Mopox, and the port of Batabano, resembling the spongy beds of Jura limestone in Franconia, near Dondorf, Pegnitz, and Tumbach. Yellowish cavernous strata, with cavities from three to four inches in diameter, alternate with strata altogether compact,* and poorer in petrifications. (* The western part of the island has no deep ravines; and we recognize this alternation in travelling from the Havannah to Batabano, the deepest beds (inclined from 30 to 40 degrees north-east) appear as we advance.) The chain of hills that borders the plain of Guines on the north and is linked with the Lomas de Camua, and the Tetas de Managua, belongs to the latter variety, which is reddish white, and almost of lithographic nature, like the Jura limestone of Pappenheim. The compact and cavernous beds contain nests of brown ochreous iron; possibly the red earth (tierra colorada) so much sought for by the coffee planters (haciendados) owes its origin to the decomposition of some superficial beds of oxidated iron, mixed with silex and clay, or to a reddish sandstone* (* Sandstone and ferruginous sand; iron-sand?) superposed on limestone. The whole of this formation, which I shall designate by the name of the limestone of Guines, to distinguish it from another much more recent, forms, near Trinidad, in the Lomas of St. Juan, steep declivities, resembling the mountains of limestone of Caripe, in the vicinity of Cumana. They also contain great caverns, near Matanzas and Jaruco, where I have not heard that any fossil bones have been found. The frequency of caverns in which the pluvial waters accumulate, and where small rivers disappear, sometimes causes a sinking of the earth. I am of opinion that the gypsum of the island of Cuba belongs not to tertiary but to secondary soil; it is worked in several places on the east of Matanzas, at San Antonio de los Banos, where it contains sulphur, and at the Cayos, opposite San Juan de los Remedios. We must not confound with this limestone of Guines, sometimes porous, sometimes compact, another formation so recent that it seems to augment in our days. I allude to the calcareous agglomerates, which I saw in the islands of Cayos that border the coast between the Batabano and the bay of Xagua, principally south of the Cienega de Zapata, Cayo Buenito, Cayo Flamenco and Cayo de Piedras. The soundings prove that they are rocks rising abruptly from a bottom of between twenty and thirty fathoms. Some are at the water's edge, others one-fourth or one-fifth of a toise above the surface of the sea. Angular fragments of madrepores, and cellularia from two to three cubic inches, are found cemented by grains of quartzose sand. The inequalities of the rocks are covered by mould, in which, by help of a microscope, we only distinguish the detritus of shells and corals. This tertiary formation no doubt belongs to that of the coast of Cumana, Carthagena, and the Great Land of Guadaloupe, noticed in my geognostic table of South America.* (* M. Moreau de Jonnes has well distinguished, in his Histoire physique des Antilles Francoises, between the Roche a ravets of Martinique and Hayti, which is porous, filled with terebratulites, and other vestiges of sea-shells, somewhat analogous to the limestone of Guines and the calcareous pelagic sediment called at Guadaloupe Platine, or Maconne bon Dieu. In the cayos of the island of Cuba, or Jardinillos del Rey y del Reyna, the whole coral rock lying above the surface of the water appeared to me to be fragmentary, that is, composed of broken blocks. It is, however, probable, that in the depth it reposes on masses of polypi still living.) MM. Chamiso and Guiamard have recently thrown great light on the formation of the coral islands in the Pacific. At the foot of the Castillo de in Punta, near the Havannah, on shelves of cavernous rocks,* covered with verdant sea-weeds and living polypi, we find enormous masses of madrepores and other lithophyte corals set in the texture of those shelves. (* The surface of these shelves, blackened and excavated by the waters, presents ramifications like the cauliflower, as they are observed on the currents of lava. Is the change of colour produced by the waters owing to the manganese which we recognize by some dendrites? The sea, entering into the clefts of the rocks, and in a cavern at the foot of the Castillo del Morro, compresses the air and makes it issue with a tremendous noise. This noise explains the phenomena of the baxos roncadores (snoring bocabeoos), so well known to navigators who cross from Jamaica to the mouth of Rio San Juan of Nicaragua, or to the island of San Andres.) We are at first tempted to admit that the whole of this limestone rock, which constitutes the principal portion of the island of Cuba, may be traced to an uninterrupted operation of nature—to the action of productive organic forces—an action which continues in our days in the bosom of the ocean; but this apparent novelty of limestone formations soon vanishes when we quit the shore, and recollect the series of coral rocks which contain the formations of different ages, the muschelkalk, the Jura limestone and coarse limestone. The same coral rocks as those of the Castillo and La Punta are found in the lofty inland mountains, accompanied with petrifications of bivalve shells, very different from those now seen on the coasts of the Antilles. Without positively assigning a determinate place in the table of formations to the limestone of Guines, which is that of the Castillo and La Punta, I have no doubt of the relative antiquity of that rock with respect to the calcareous agglomerate of the Cayos, situated south of Batabano, and east of the island of Pinos. The globe has undergone great revolutions between the periods when these two soils were formed; the one containing the great caverns of Matanzas, the other daily augmenting by the agglutination of fragments of coral and quartzose sand. On the south of the island of Cuba, the latter soil seems to repose sometimes on the Jura limestone of Guines, as in the Jardinillos, and sometimes (towards Cape Cruz) immediately over primitive rocks. In the lesser Antilles the corals are covered with volcanic productions. Several of the Cayos of the island of Cuba contain fresh water; and I found this water very good in the middle of the Cayo de Piedras. When we reflect on the extreme smallness of these islands we can scarcely believe that the fresh-water wells are filled with rain-water not evaporated. Do they prove a submarine communication between the limestone of the coast with the limestone serving as the basis of lithophyte polypi, and is the fresh water of Cuba raised up by hydrostatic pressure across the coral rocks of Cayos, as it is in the bay of Xagua, where, in the middle of the sea, it forms springs frequented by the lamantins?

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Part 2 of 3

The secondary formations on the east of the Havannah are pierced in a singular manner by syenitic and euphotide rocks united in groups. The southern bottom of the bay as well as the northern part (the hills of the Morro and the Cabana) are of Jura limestone; but on the eastern bank of the two Ensenadas de Regla and Guanabacoa, the whole is transition soil. Going from north to south, and first near Marimelena, we find syenite consisting of a great quantity of hornblende, partly decomposed, a little quartz, and a reddish-white feldspar seldom crystallized. This fine syenite, the strata of which incline to the north-west, alternates twice with serpentine. The layers of intercalated serpentine are three toises thick. Farther south, towards Regla and Guanabacoa, the syenite disappears, and the whole soil is covered with serpentine, rising in hills from thirty to forty toises high, and running from east to west. This rock is much fendillated, externally of a bluish-grey, covered with dendrites of manganese, and internally of leek and asparagus-green, crossed by small veins of asbestos. It contains no garnet or amphibole, but metalloid diallage disseminated in the mass. The serpentine is sometimes of an esquillous, sometimes of a conchoidal fracture: this was the first time I had found metalloid diallage within the tropics. Several blocks of serpentine have magnetic poles; others are of such a homogeneous texture, and have such a glossiness, that at a distance they may be taken for pechstein (resinite). It were to be wished that these fine masses were employed in the arts as they are in several parts of Germany. In approaching Guanabacoa we find serpentine crossed by veins between twelve and fourteen inches thick, and filled with fibrous quartz, amethyst, and fine mammelonnes, and stalactiforme chalcedonies; it is possible that chrysoprase may also one day be found. Some copper pyrites appear among these veins accompanied, it is said, by silvery-grey copper. I found no traces of this grey copper: it is probably the metalloid diallage that has given the Cerro de Guanabacoa the reputation of riches in gold and silver which it has enjoyed for ages. In some places petroleum flows* from rents in the serpentine. (* Does there exist in the Bay of the Havannah any other source of petroleum than that of Guanabacoa, or must it be admitted that the betun liquido, which in 1508 was employed by Sebastian de Ocampo for the caulking of ships, is dried up? That spring, however, fixed the attention of Ocampo on the port of the Havannah, where he gave it the name of Puerto de Carenas. It is said that abundant springs of petroleum are also found in the eastern part of the island (Manantialis de betun y chapapote) between Holguin and Mayari, and on the coast of Santiago de Cuba.) Springs of water are frequent; they contain a little sulphuretted hydrogen, and deposit oxide of iron. The Baths of Bareto are agreeable, but of nearly the same temperature as the atmosphere. The geologic constitution of this group of serpentine rocks, from its insulated position, its veins, its connection with syenite and the fact of its rising up across shell-formations, merits particular attention. Feldspar with a basis of souda (compact feldspar) forms, with diallage, the euphotide and serpentine; with pyroxene, dolerite and basalt; and with garnet, eclogyte. These five rocks, dispersed over the whole globe, charged with oxidulated and titanious iron, are probably of similar origin. It is easy to distinguish two formations in the euphotide; one is destitute of amphibole, even when it alternates with amphibolic rocks (Joria in Piedmont, Regla in the island of Cuba) rich in pure serpentine, in metalloid diallage and sometimes in jasper (Tuscany, Saxony); the other, strongly charged with amphibole, often passing to diorite,* has no jasper in layers, and sometimes contains rich veins of copper; (Silesia, Mussinet in Piedmont, the Pyrenees, Parapara in Venezuela, Copper Mountains of North America). (* On a serpentine that flows like a penombre, veins of greenstone (diorite) near Lake Clunie in Perthshire. See MacCulloch in Edinburgh Journal of Science 1824 July pages 3 to 16. On a vein of serpentine, and the alterations it produces on the banks of Carity, near West-Balloch in Forfarshire see Charles Lyell l.c. volume 3 page 43.) It is the latter formation of euphotide which, by its mixture with diorite, is itself linked with hyperthenite, in which real beds of serpentine are sometimes developed in Scotland and in Norway. No volcanic rocks of a more recent period have hitherto been discovered in the island of Cuba; for instance, neither trachytes, dolerites, nor basalts. I know not whether they are found in the rest of the Great Antilles, of which the geologic constitution differs essentially from that of the series of calcareous and volcanic islands which stretch from Trinidad to the Virgin Islands. Earthquakes, which are in general less fatal at Cuba than at Porto Rico and Hayti, are most felt in the eastern part, between Cape Maysi, Santiago de Cuba and La Ciudad de Puerto Principe. Perhaps towards those regions the action of the crevice extends laterally, which is believed to cross the neck of granitic land between Port-au-Prince and Cape Tiburon and on which whole mountains were overthrown in 1770.

The cavernous texture of the limestone formations (soboruco) just described, the great inclination of the shelvings, the smallness of the island, the nakedness of the plains and the proximity of the mountains that form a lofty chain on the southern coast, may be considered as among the principal causes of the want of rivers and the drought which is felt, especially in the western part of Cuba. In this respect, Hayti, Jamaica, and several of the Lesser Antilles, which contain volcanic heights covered with forests, are more favoured by nature. The lands most celebrated for their fertility are the districts of Xagua, Trinidad, Matanzas and Mariel. The valley of Guines owes its reputation to artificial irrigation (sanjas de riego). Notwithstanding the want of great rivers and the unequal fertility of the soil, the island of Cuba, by its undulated surface, its continually renewed verdure, and the distribution of its vegetable forms, presents at every step the most varied and beautiful landscape. Two trees with large, tough, and glossy leaves, the Mammea and the Calophyllum calaba, five species of palm-trees (the palma real, or Oreodoxa regia, the common cocoa-tree, the Cocos crispa, the Corypha miraguama and the C. maritima), and small shrubs constantly loaded with flowers, decorate the hills and the savannahs. The Cecropia peltata marks the humid spots. It would seem as if the whole island had been originally a forest of palm, lemon, and wild orange trees. The latter, which bear a small fruit, are probably anterior to the arrival of Europeans,* who transported thither the agrumi of the gardens; they rarely exceed the height of from ten to fifteen feet. (* The best informed inhabitants of the island assert that the cultivated orange-trees brought from Asia preserve the size and all the properties of their fruits when they become wild. The Brazilians affirm that the small bitter orange which bears the name of loranja do terra and is found wild, far from the habitations of man, is of American origin. Caldcleugh, Travels in South America.) The lemon and orange trees are most frequently separate; and the new planters, in clearing the ground by fire, distinguish the quality of the soil according as it is covered with one or other of those groups of social plants; they prefer the soil of the naranjal to that which produces the small lemon. In a country where the making of sugar is not sufficiently improved to admit of the employment of any other fuel than the bagasse (dried sugar-cane) the progressive destruction of the small woods is a positive calamity. The aridity of the soil augments in proportion as it is stripped of the trees that sheltered it from the heat of the sun; for the leaves, emitting heat under a sky always serene, occasion, as the air cools, a precipitation of aqueous vapours.

Among the few rivers worthy of attention, the Rio Guines may be noticed, the Rio Armendaris or Chorrera, of which the waters are led to the Havannah by the Sanja de Antoneli; the Rio Canto on the north of the town of Bayamo; the Rio Maximo which rises on the east of Puerto Principe; the Rio Sagua Grande near Villa Clara; the Rio de las Palmas which issues opposite Cayo Galiado; the small rivers of Jaruco and Santa Cruz between Guanabo and Matanzas, navigable at the distance of some miles from their mouths and favourable for the shipment of sugar-casks; the Rio San Antonio which, like many others, is engulfed in the caverns of limestone rocks; the Rio Guaurabo west of the port of Trinidad; and the Rio Galafre in the fertile district of Filipinas, which throws itself into the Laguna de Cortez. The most abundant springs rise on the southern coast where, from Xagua to Punta de Sabina, over a length of forty-six leagues, the soil is extremely marshy. So great is the abundance of the waters which filter by the clefts of the stratified rock that, from the effect of an hydrostatic pressure, fresh water springs far from the coast, and amidst salt water. The jurisdiction of the Havannah is not the most fertile part of the island; and the few sugar-plantations that existed in the vicinity of the capital are now converted into farms for cattle (potreros) and fields of maize and forage, of which the profits are considerable. The agriculturists of the island of Cuba distinguish two kinds of earth, often mixed together like the squares of a draught-board, black earth (negra o prieta), clayey and full of moisture, and red earth (bermeja), more silicious and containing oxide of iron. The tierra negra is generally preferred (on account of its best preserving humidity) for the cultivation of the sugarcane, and the tierra bermeja for coffee; but many sugar plantations are established on the red soil.

The climate of the Havannah is in accordance with the extreme limits of the torrid zone: it is a tropical climate, in which a more unequal distribution of heat at different parts of the year denotes the passage to the climates of the temperate zone. Calcutta (latitude 22 degrees 34 minutes north), Canton (latitude 23 degrees 8 minutes north), Macao (latitude 22 degrees 12 minutes north), the Havannah (latitude 23 degrees 9 minutes north) and Rio Janeiro (latitude 22 degrees 54 minutes south) are places which, from their position at the level of the ocean near the tropics of Cancer and Capricorn, consequently at an equal distance from the equator, afford great facilities for the study of meteorology. This study can only advance by the determination of certain numerical elements which are the indispensable basis of the laws we seek to discover. The aspect of vegetation being identical near the limits of the torrid zone and at the equator, we are accustomed to confound vaguely the climates of two zones comprised between 0 and 10 degrees, and between 15 and 23 degrees of latitude. The region of palm-trees, bananas and arborescent gramina extends far beyond the two tropics: but it would be dangerous to apply what has been observed at the extremity of the tropical zone to what may take place in the plains near the equator. In order to rectify those errors it is important that the mean temperature of the year and months be well known, as also the thermometric oscillations in different seasons at the parallel of the Havannah; and to prove by an exact comparison with other points alike distant from the equator, for instance, with Rio Janeiro and Macao, that the lowering of temperature observed in the island of Cuba is owing to the irruption and the stream of layers of cold air, borne from the temperate zones towards the tropics of Cancer and Capricorn. The mean temperature of the Havannah, according to four years of good observations, is 25.7 degrees (20.6 degrees R.), only 2 degrees centigrade above that of the regions of America nearest the equator. The proximity of the sea raises the mean temperature of the year on the coast; but in the interior of the island, when the north winds penetrate with the same force, and where the soil rises to the height of forty toises, the mean temperature attains only 23 degrees (18.4 degrees R.) and does not exceed that of Cairo and Lower Egypt. The difference between the mean temperature of the hottest and coldest months rises to 12 degrees in the interior of the island; at the Havannah and on the coast, to 8 degrees; at Cumana, to scarcely 3 degrees. The hottest months, July and August, attain 28.8 degrees, at the island of Cuba, perhaps 29.5 degrees of mean temperature, as at the equator. The coldest months are December and January; their mean temperature in the interior of the island, is 17 degrees; at the Havannah, 21 degrees, that is, 5 to 8 degrees below the same months at the equator, yet still 3 degrees above the hottest month at Paris.

It will be interesting to compare the climate of the Havannah with that of Macao and Rio Janeiro; two places, one of which is near the limit of the northern torrid zone, on the eastern coast of Asia; and the other on the eastern coast of America, towards the extremity of the southern torrid zone.

The climate of the Havannah, notwithstanding the frequency of the north and north-west winds, is hotter than that of Macao and Rio Janeiro. The former partakes of the cold which, owing to the frequency of the west winds, is felt in winter along all the eastern coast of a great continent. The proximity of spaces of land covered with mountains and table-lands renders the distribution of heat in different months of the year more unequal at Macao and Canton than in an island bounded on the west and north by the hot waters of the Gulf-stream. The winters are therefore much colder at Canton and Macao than at the Havannah: yet the latitude of Macao is 1 degree more southerly than that of the Havannah; and the latter town and Canton are, within nearly a minute, on the same parallel. The thermometer at Canton has sometimes almost reached the point zero; and by the effect of reflection, ice has been found on the terraces of houses. Although this great cold never lasts more than one day, the English merchants residing at Canton like to make chimney-fires in their apartments from November to January; while at the Havannah, the artificial warmth even of a brazero is not required. Hail is frequent and the hail-stones are extremely large in the Asiatic climate of Canton and Macao, while it is scarcely seen once in fifteen years at the Havannah. In these three places the thermometer sometimes keeps up for several hours between 0 and 4 degrees (centigrade); and yet (a circumstance which appears to be very remarkable) snow has never been seen to fall; and notwithstanding the great lowering of the temperature, the bananas and the palm-trees are as beautiful around Canton, Macao and the Havannah as in the plains nearest the equator.

In the island of Cuba the lowering of the temperature lasts only during intervals of such short duration that in general neither the banana, the sugar-cane nor other productions of the torrid zone suffer much. We know how well plants of vigorous organization resist temporary cold, and that the orange trees of Genoa survive the fall of snow and endure cold which does not more than exceed 6 or 7 degrees below freezing-point. As the vegetation of the island of Cuba bears the character of the vegetation of the regions near the equator, we are surprised to find even in the plains a vegetable form of the temperate climates and mountains of the equatorial part of Mexico. I have often directed the attention of botanists to this extraordinary phenomenon in the geography of plants. The pine (Pinus occidentalis) is not found in the Lesser Antilles; not even in Jamaica (between 17 3/4 and 18 1/2 degrees of latitude). It is only seen further north, in the mountains of San Domingo, and in all that part of the island of Cuba situated between 20 and 23 degrees of latitude. It attains a height of from sixty to seventy feet; and it is remarkable that the cahoba* (mahogany (* Swieteinia Mahogani, Linn.)) and the pine vegetate at the island of Pinos in the same plains. We also find pines in the south-eastern part of the island of Cuba, on the declivity of the Copper Mountains where the soil is barren and sandy. The interior table-land of Mexico is covered with the same species of coniferous plants; at least the specimens brought by M. Bonpland and myself from Acaguisotla, Nevado de Toluca and Cofre de Perote do not appear to differ specifically from the Pinus occidentalis of the West India Islands described by Schwartz. Now those pines which we see at sea level in the island of Cuba, in 20 and 22 degrees of latitude, and which belong only to the southern part of that island, do not descend on the Mexican continent between the parallels of 17 1/2 and 19 1/2 degrees, below the elevation of 500 toises. I even observed that, on the road from Perote to Xalapa in the eastern mountains opposite to the island of Cuba, the limit of the pines is 935 toises; while in the western mountains, between Chilpanzingo and Acapulco, near Quasiniquilapa, two degrees further south, it is 580 toises and perhaps on some points 450. These anomalies of stations are very rare in the torrid zone and are probably less connected with the temperature than with the nature of the soil. In the system of the migration of plants we must suppose that the Pinus occidentalis of Cuba came from Yucatan before the opening of the channel between Cape Catoche and Cape San Antonio, and not from the United States, so rich in coniferous plants; for in Florida the species of which we have here traced the botanical geography has not been discovered.

About the end of April, M. Bonpland and myself, having completed the observations we proposed to make at the northern extremity of the torrid zone, were on the point of proceeding to Vera Cruz with the squadron of Admiral Ariztizabal; but being misled by false intelligence respecting the expedition of Captain Baudin, we were induced to relinquish the project of passing through Mexico on our way to the Philippine Islands. The public journals announced that two French sloops, the Geographe and Naturaliste, had sailed for Cape Horn; that they were to proceed along the coasts of Chili and Peru, and thence to New Holland. This intelligence revived in my mind all the projects I had formed during my stay in Paris, when I solicited the Directory to hasten the departure of Captain Baudin. On leaving Spain, I had promised to rejoin the expedition wherever I could reach it. M. Bonpland and I resolved instantly to divide our herbals into three portions, to avoid exposing to the risks of a long voyage the objects we had obtained with so much difficulty on the banks of the Orinoco, the Atabapo and the Rio Negro. We sent one collection by way of England to Germany, another by way of Cadiz to France, and a third remained at the Havannah. We had reason to congratulate ourselves on this foresight: each collection contained nearly the same species, and no precautions were neglected to have the cases, if taken by English or French vessels, remitted to Sir Joseph Banks or to the professors of natural history at the Museum at Paris. It happened fortunately that the manuscripts which I at first intended to send with the collection to Cadiz were not intrusted to our much esteemed friend and fellow traveller, Fray Juan Gonzales, of the order of the Observance of St. Francis, who had followed us to the Havannah with the view of returning to Spain. He left the island of Cuba soon after us, but the vessel in which he sailed foundered on the coast of Africa, and the cargo and crew were all lost. By this event we lost some of the duplicates of our herbals, and what was more important, all the insects which M. Bonpland had with great difficulty collected during our voyage to the Orinoco and the Rio Negro. By a singular fatality, we remained two years in the Spanish colonies without receiving a single letter from Europe; and those which arrived in the three following years made no mention of what we had transmitted. The reader may imagine my uneasiness for the fate of a journal which contained astronomical observations and barometrical measurements, of which I had not made any copy. After having visited New Grenada, Peru and Mexico, and just when I was preparing to leave the New Continent, I happened, at a public library of Philadelphia, to cast my eyes on a scientific Publication, in which I found these words: "Arrival of M. de Humboldt's manuscripts at his brother's house in Paris, by way of Spain!" I could scarcely suppress an exclamation of joy.

While M. Bonpland laboured day and night to divide and put our collections in order, a thousand obstacles arose to impede our departure. There was no vessel in the port of the Havannah that would convey us to Porto Bello or Carthagena. The persons I consulted seemed to take pleasure in exaggerating the difficulties of the passage of the isthmus, and the dangerous voyage from Panama to Guyaquil, and from Guyaquil to Lima and Valparaiso. Not being able to find a passage in any neutral vessel, I freighted a Catalonian sloop, lying at Batabano, which was to be at my disposal to take me either to Porto Bello or Carthagena, according as the gales of Saint Martha might permit.* (* The gales of Saint Martha blow with great violence at that season below latitude 12 degrees.) The prosperous state of commerce at the Havannah and the multiplied connections of that city with the ports of the Pacific would facilitate for me the means of procuring funds for several years. General Don Gonzalo O'Farrill resided at that time in my native country as minister of the court of Spain. I could exchange my revenues in Prussia for a part of his at the island of Cuba; and the family of Don Ygnacio O'Farrill y Herera, brother of the general, concurred kindly in all that could favour my new projects. On the 6th of March the vessel I had freighted was ready to receive us. The road to Batabano led us once more by Guines to the plantation of Rio Blanco, the property of Count Jaruco y Mopox.

The road from Rio Blanco to Batabano runs across an uncultivated country, half covered with forests; in the open spots the indigo plant and the cotton-tree grow wild. As the capsule of the Gossypium opens at the season when the northern storms are most frequent, the down that envelops the seed is swept from one side to the other; and the gathering of the cotton, which is of a very fine quality, suffers greatly. Several of our friends, among whom was Senor de Mendoza, captain of the port of Valparaiso, and brother to the celebrated astronomer who resided so long in London, accompanied us to Potrero de Mopox. In herborizing further southward, we found a new palm-tree with fan-leaves (Corypha maritima), having a free thread between the interstices of the folioles. This Corypha covers a part of the southern coast and takes the place of the majestic palma real and the Cocos crispa of the northern coast. Porous limestone (of the Jura formation) appeared from time to time in the plain.

Batabano was then a poor village and its church had been completed only a few years previously. The Sienega begins at the distance of half a league from the village; it is a tract of marshy soil, extending from the Laguna de Cortez as far as the mouth of the Rio Xagua, on a length of sixty leagues from west to east. At Batabano it is believed that in those regions the sea continues to gain upon the land, and that the oceanic irruption was particularly remarkable at the period of the great upheaving which took place at the end of the eighteenth century, when the tobacco mills disappeared, and the Rio Chorrera changed its course. Nothing can be more gloomy than the aspect of these marshes around Batabano. Not a shrub breaks the monotony of the prospect: a few stunted trunks of palm-trees rise like broken masts, amidst great tufts of Junceae and Irides. As we stayed only one night at Batabano, I regretted much that I was unable to obtain precise information relative to the two species of crocodiles which infest the Sienega. The inhabitants give to one of these animals the name of cayman, to the other that of crocodile; or, as they say commonly in Spain, of cocodrilo. They assured us that the latter has most agility, and measures most in height: his snout is more pointed than that of the cayman, and they are never found together. The crocodile is very courageous and is said to climb into boats when he can find a support for his tail. He frequently wanders to the distance of a league from the Rio Cauto and the marshy coast of Xagua to devour the pigs on the islands. This animal is sometimes fifteen feet long, and will, it is said, pursue a man on horseback, like the wolves in Europe; while the animals exclusively called caymans at Batabano are so timid that people bathe without apprehension in places where they live in bands. These peculiarities, and the name of cocodrilo, given at the island of Cuba, to the most dangerous of the carnivorous reptiles, appear to me to indicate a different species from the great animals of the Orinoco, Rio Magdalena and Saint Domingo. In other parts of the Spanish American continent the settlers, deceived by the exaggerated accounts of the ferocity of crocodiles in Egypt, allege that the real crocodile is only found in the Nile. Zoologists have, however, ascertained that there are in America caymans or alligators with obtuse snouts, and legs not indented, and crocodiles with pointed snouts and indented legs; and in the old continent, both crocodiles and gaviales. The Crocodilus acutus of San Domingo, in which I cannot hitherto specifically distinguish the crocodiles of the great rivers of the Orinoco and the Magdalena, has, according to Cuvier, so great a resemblance to the crocodile of the Nile,* that it required a minute examination to prove that the rule laid down by Buffon relative to the distribution of species between the tropical regions of the two continents was correct. (* This striking analogy was ascertained by M. Geoffroy de Saint Hilaire in 1803 when General Rochambeau sent a crocodile from San Domingo to the Museum of Natural History at Paris. M. Bonpland and myself had made drawings and detailed descriptions in 1801 and 1802 of the same species which inhabit the great rivers of South America, during our passage on the Apure, the Orinoco and the Magdalena. We committed the mistake so common to travellers, of not sending them at once to Europe, together with some young specimens.)

On my second visit to the Havannah, in 1804, I could not return to the Sienega of Batabano; and therefore I had the two species, called caymans and crocodiles by the inhabitants, brought to me, at a great expense. Two crocodiles arrived alive; the oldest was four feet three inches long; they had been caught with great difficulty and were conveyed, muzzled and bound, on a mule, for they were exceedingly vigorous and fierce. In order to observe their habits and movements,* we placed them in a great hall, where, by climbing on a very high piece of furniture, we could see them attack great dogs. (* M. Descourtils, who knows the habits of the crocodile better than any other author who has written on that reptile, saw, like Dampier and myself, the Crocodilus acutus often touch his tail with his mouth.) Having seen much of crocodiles during six months, on the Orinoco, the Rio Apure and the Magdalena, we were glad to have another opportunity of observing their habits before our return to Europe. The animals sent to us from Batabano had the snout nearly as sharp as the crocodiles of the Orinoco and the Magdalena (Crocodilus acutus, Cuv.); their colour was dark-green on the back, and white below the belly, with yellow spots on the flanks. I counted, as in all the real crocodiles, thirty-eight teeth in the upper jaw, and thirty in the lower; in the former, the tenth and ninth; and in the latter, the first and fourth, were the largest. In the description made by M. Bonpland and myself on the spot, we have expressly marked that the lower fourth tooth rises over the upper jaw. The posterior extremities were palmated. These crocodiles of Batabano appeared to us to be specifically identical with the Crocodilus acutus. It is true that the accounts we heard of their habits did not quite agree with what we had ourselves observed on the Orinoco; but carnivorous reptiles of the same species are milder and more timid, or fiercer and more courageous, in the same river, according to the nature of the localities. The animal called the cayman, at Batabano, died on the way, and was not brought to us, so that we could make no comparison of the two species.* (* The four bags filled with musk (bolzas del almizcle) are, in the crocodile of Batabano, exactly in the same position as in that of the Rio Magdalena, beneath the lower jaw and near the anus. I was much surprised at not perceiving the smell of musk at the Havannah, three days after the death of the animal, in a temperature of 30 degrees, while at Mompox, on the banks of the Magdalena, living crocodiles infected our apartment. I have since found that Dampier also remarked an absence of smell in the crocodile of Cuba where the caymans spread a very strong smell of musk.) I have no doubt that the crocodile with a sharp snout, and the alligator or cayman with a snout like a pike,* (* Crocodilus acutus of San Domingo. Alligator lucius of Florida and the Mississippi.) inhabit together, but in distinct bands, the marshy coast between Xagua, the Surgidero of Batabano, and the island of Pinos. In that island Dampier was struck with the great difference between the caymans and the American crocodiles. After having described, though not always with perfect correctness, several of the characteristics which distinguish crocodiles from caymans, he traces the geographical distribution of those enormous saurians. "In the bay of Campeachy," he says, "I saw only caymans or alligators; at the island of Great Cayman, there are crocodiles and no alligators; at the island of Pinos, and in the innumerable creeks of the coast of Cuba, there are both crocodiles and caymans."* (* Dampier's Voyages and Descriptions, 1599.) To these valuable observations of Dampier I may add that the real crocodile (Crocodilus acutus) is found in the West India Islands nearest the mainland, for instance, at the island of Trinidad; at Marguerita; and also, probably, at Curacao, notwithstanding the want of fresh water. It is observed, further south, in the Neveri, the Rio Magdalena, the Apure and the Orinoco, as far as the confluence of the Cassiquiare with the Rio Negro (latitude 2 degrees 2 minutes), consequently more than four hundred leagues from Batabano. It would be interesting to verify on the eastern coast of Mexico and Guatimala, between the Mississippi and the Rio Chagres (in the isthmus of Panama), the limit of the different species of carnivorous reptiles.

We set sail on the 9th of March, somewhat incommoded by the extreme smallness of our vessel, which afforded us no sleeping-place but upon deck. The cabin (camera de pozo) received no air or light but from above; it was merely a hold for provisions, and it was with difficulty that we could place our instruments in it. The thermometer kept up constantly at 32 and 33 degrees (centesimal.) Luckily these inconveniences lasted only twenty days. Our several voyages in the canoes of the Orinoco, and a passage in an American vessel laden with several thousand arrobas of salt meat dried in the sun had rendered us not very fastidious.

The gulf of Batabano, bounded by a low and marshy coast, looks like a vast desert. The fishing birds, which are generally at their post whilst the small land birds, and the indolent vultures (Vultur aura.) are at roost, are seen only in small numbers. The sea is of a greenish-brown hue, as in some of the lakes of Switzerland; while the air, owing to its extreme purity, had, at the moment the sun appeared above the horizon, a cold tint of pale blue, similar to that which landscape painters observe at the same hour in the south of Italy, and which makes distant objects stand out in strong relief. Our sloop was the only vessel in the gulf; for the roadstead of Batabano is scarcely visited except by smugglers, or, as they are here politely called, the traders (los tratantes). The projected canal of Guines will render Batabano an important point of communication between the island of Cuba and the coast of Venezuela. The port is within a bay bounded by Punta Gorda on the east, and by Punta de Salinas on the west: but this bay is itself only the upper or concave end of a great gulf measuring nearly fourteen leagues from south to north, and along an extent of fifty leagues (between the Laguna de Cortez and the Cayo de Piedras) inclosed by an incalculable number of flats and chains of rocks. One great island only, of which the superficies is more than four times the dimensions of that of Martinique, with mountains crowned with majestic pines, rises amidst this labyrinth. This is the island of Pinos, called by Columbus El Evangelista, and by some mariners of the sixteenth century, the Isla de Santa Maria. It is celebrated for its mahogany (Swietenia mahagoni) which is an important article of commerce. We sailed east-south-east, taking the passage of Don Cristoval, to reach the rocky island of Cayo de Piedras, and to clear the archipelago, which the Spanish pilots, in the early times of the conquest, designated by the names of Gardens and Bowers (Jardines y Jardinillos). The Queen's Gardens, properly so called, are nearer Cape Cruz, and are separated from the archipelago by an open sea thirty-five leagues broad. Columbus gave them the name they bear, in 1494, when, on his second voyage, he struggled during fifty-eight days with the winds and currents between the island of Pinos and the eastern cape of Cuba. He describes the islands of this archipelago as verdant, full of trees and pleasant* (verdes, llenos de arboledas, y graciosos). (* There exists great geographical confusion, even at the Havannah, in reference to the ancient denominations of the Jardines del Rey and Jardines de la Reyna. In the description of the island of Cuba, given in the Mercurio Americano, and in the Historia Natural de la Isla de Cuba, published at the Havannah by Don Antonio Lopez Gomez, the two groups are placed on the southern coast of the island. Lopez says that the Jardines del Rey extend from the Laguna de Cortez to Bahia de Xagua; but it is historically certain that the governor Diego Velasquez gave his name to the western part of the chain of rocks of the Old Channel, between Cayo Frances and Le Monillo, on the northern coast of the island of Cuba. The Jardines de la Reyna, situated between Cabo Cruz and the port of the Trinity, are in no manner connected with the Jardines and Jardinillos of the Isla de Pinos. Between the two groups of the chain of rocks are the flats (placeres) of La Paz and Xagua.)

A part of these so-styled gardens is indeed beautiful; the voyager sees the scene change every moment, and the verdure of some of the islands appears the more lovely from its contrast with chains of rocks, displaying only white and barren sands. The surface of these sands, heated by the rays of the sun, seems to be undulating like the surface of a liquid. The contact of layers of air of unequal temperature produces the most varied phenomena of suspension and mirage from ten in the morning till four in the afternoon. Even in those desert places the sun animates the landscape, and gives mobility to the sandy plain, to the trunks of trees, and to the rocks that project into the sea like promontories. When the sun appears these inert masses seem suspended in air; and on the neighbouring beach the sands present the appearance of a sheet of water gently agitated by the winds. A train of clouds suffices to seat the trunks of trees and the suspended rocks again on the soil; to render the undulating surface of the plains motionless; and to dissipate the charm which the Arabian, Persian, and Hindoo poets have celebrated as "the sweet illusions of the solitary desert."

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Part 3 of 3

We doubled Cape Matahambre very slowly. The chronometer of Louis Berthoud having kept time accurately at the Havannah, I availed myself of this occasion to determine, on this and the following days, the positions of Cayo de Don Cristoval, Cayo Flamenco, Cayo de Diego Perez and Cayo de Piedras. I also employed myself in examining the influence which the changes at the bottom of the sea produce on its temperature at the surface. Sheltered by so many islands, the surface is calm as a lake of fresh water, and the layers of different depths being distinct and separate, the smallest change indicated by the lead acts on the thermometer. I was surprised to see that on the east of the little Cayo de Don Cristoval the high banks are only distinguished by the milky colour of the water, like the bank of Vibora, south of Jamaica, and many other banks, the existence of which I ascertained by means of the thermometer. The bottom of the rock of Batabano is a sand composed of coral detritus; it nourishes sea-weeds which scarcely ever appear on the surface: the water, as I have already observed, is greenish; and the absence of the milky tint is, no doubt, owing to the perfect calm which pervades those regions. Whenever the agitation is propagated to a certain depth, a very fine sand, or a mass of calcareous particles suspended in the water, renders it troubled and milky. There are shallows, however, which are distinguished neither by the colour nor by the low temperature of the waters; and I believe that phenomenon depends on the nature of a hard and rocky bottom, destitute of sand and corals; on the form and declivity of the shelvings; the swiftness of the currents; and the absence of the propagation of motion towards the lower layers of the water. The cold frequently indicated by the thermometer, at the surface of the high banks, must be traced to the molecules of water which, owing to the rays of heat and the nocturnal cooling, fall from the surface to the bottom, and are stopped in their fall by the high banks; and also to the mingling of the layers of very deep water that rise on the shelvings of the banks as on an inclined plane, to mix with the layers of the surface.

Notwithstanding the small size of our bark and the boasted skill of our pilot, we often ran aground. The bottom being soft, there was no danger; but, nevertheless, at sunset, near the pass of Don Cristoval, we preferred to lie at anchor. The first part of the night was beautifully serene: we saw an incalculable number of falling-stars, all following one direction, opposite to that from whence the wind blew in the low regions of the atmosphere. The most absolute solitude prevails in this spot, which, in the time of Columbus, was inhabited and frequented by great numbers of fishermen. The inhabitants of Cuba then employed a small fish to take the great sea turtles; they fastened a long cord to the tail of the reves (the name given by the Spaniards to that species of Echeneis*). (* To the sucet or guaican of the natives of Cuba the Spaniards have given the characteristic name of reves, that is, placed on its back, or reversed. In fact, at first sight, the position of the back and the abdomen is confounded. Anghiera says: Nostrates reversum appellant, quia versus venatur. I examined a remora of the South Sea during the passage from Lima to Acapulco. As he lived a long time out of the water, I tried experiments on the weight he could carry before the blades of the disk loosened from the plank to which the animal was fixed; but I lost that part of my journal. It is doubtless the fear of danger that causes the remora not to loose his hold when he feels that he is pulled by a cord or by the hand of man. The sucet spoken of by Columbus and Martin d'Anghiera was probably the Echeneis naucrates and not the Echeneis remora.) The fisher-fish, formerly employed by the Cubans by means of the flattened disc on his head, furnished with suckers, fixed himself on the shell of the sea-turtle, which is so common in the narrow and winding channels of the Jardinillos. "The reves," says Christopher Columbus, "will sooner suffer himself to be cut in pieces than let go the body to which he adheres." The Indians drew to the shore by the same cord the fisher-fish and the turtle. When Gomara and the learned secretary of the emperor Charles V, Peter Martyr d'Anghiera, promulgated in Europe this fact which they had learnt from the companions of Columbus, it was received as a traveller's tale. There is indeed an air of the marvellous in the recital of d'Anghiera, which begins in these words: Non aliter ac nos canibus gallicis per aequora campi lepores insectamur, incolae [Cubae insulae] venatorio pisce pisces alios capiebant. (Exactly as we follow hares with greyhounds in the fields, so do the natives [of Cuba] take fishes with other fish trained for that purpose). We now know, from the united testimony of Rogers, Dampier and Commerson, that the artifice resorted to in the Jardinillos to catch turtles is employed by the inhabitants of the eastern coast of Africa, near Cape Natal, at Mozambique and at Madagascar. In Egypt, at San Domingo and in the lakes of the valley of Mexico, the method practised for catching ducks was as follows: men, whose heads were covered with great calabashes pierced with holes, hid themselves in the water, and seized the birds by the feet. The Chinese, from the remotest antiquity, have employed the cormorant, a bird of the pelican family, for fishing on the coast: rings are fixed round the bird's neck to prevent him from swallowing his prey and fishing for himself. In the lowest degree of civilization, the sagacity of man is displayed in the stratagems of hunting and fishing: nations who probably never had any communication with each other furnish the most striking analogies in the means they employ in exercising their empire over animals.

Three days elapsed before we could emerge from the labyrinth of Jardines and Jardinillos. At night we lay at anchor; and in the day we visited those islands or chains of rocks which were most easily accessible. As we advanced eastward the sea became less calm and the position of the shoals was marked by water of a milky colour. On the boundary of a sort of gulf between Cayo Flamenco and Cayo de Piedras we found that the temperature of the sea, at its surface, augmented suddenly from 23.5 to 25.8 degrees centigrade. The geologic constitution of the rocky islets that rise around the island of Pinos fixed my attention the more earnestly as I had always rather doubted of the existence of those huge masses of coral which are said to rise from the abyss of the Pacific to the surface of the water. It appeared to me more probable that these enormous masses had some primitive or volcanic rock for a basis, to which they adhered at small depths. The formation, partly compact and lithographic, partly bulbous, of the limestone of Guines, had followed us as far as Batabano. It is somewhat analogous to Jura limestone; and, judging from their external aspect, the Cayman Islands are composed of the same rock. If the mountains of the island of Pinos, which present at the same time (as it is said by the first historians of the conquest) the pineta and palmeta, be visible at the distance of twenty sea leagues, they must attain a height of more than five hundred toises: I have been assured that they also are formed of a limestone altogether similar to that of Guines. From these facts I expected to find the same rock (Jura limestone) in the Jardinillos: but I saw, in the chain of rocks that rises generally five to six inches above the surface of the water, only a fragmentary rock, in which angular pieces of madrepores are cemented by quartzose sand. Sometimes the fragments form a mass of from one to two cubic feet and the grains of quartz so disappear that in several layers one might imagine that the polypi have remained on the spot. The total mass of this chain of rocks appears to me a limestone agglomerate, somewhat analogous to the earthy limestone of the peninsula of Araya, near Cumana, but of much more recent formation. The inequalities of this coral rock are covered by a detritus of shells and madrepores. Whatever rises above the surface of the water is composed of broken pieces, cemented by carbonate of lime, in which grains of quartzose sand are set. Whether rocks formed by polypi still living are found at great depth below this fragmentary rock of coral or whether these polypi are raised on the Jura formation are questions which I am unable to answer. Pilots believe that the sea diminishes in these latitudes, because they see the chain of rocks augment and rise, either by the earth which the waves heave up, or by successive agglutinations. It is not impossible that the enlarging of the channel of Bahama, by which the waters of the Gulf-stream issue, may cause, in the lapse of ages, a slight lowering of the waters south of Cuba, and especially in the gulf of Mexico, the centre of the great current which runs along the shores of the United States, and casts the fruits of tropical plants on the coast of Norway.* (* "The Gulf-stream, between the Bahamas and Florida, is very little wider than Behring's Strait; and yet the water rushing through this passage is of sufficient force and quantity to put the whole Northern Atlantic in motion, and to make its influence be felt in the distant strait of Gibraltar and on the more distant coast of Africa." Quarterly Review February 1818.) The configuration of the coast, the direction, the force and the duration of certain winds and currents, the changes which the barometric heights undergo through the variable predominance of those winds, are causes, the concurrence of which may alter, in a long space of time, and in circumscribed limits of extent and height, the equilibrium of the seas.* (* I do not pretend to explain, by the same causes, the great phenomena of the coast of Sweden, where the sea has, on some points, the appearance of a very unequal lowering of from three to five feet in one hundred years. The great geologist, Leopold von Buch, has imparted new interest to these observations by examining whether it be not rather some parts of the continent of Scandinavia which insensibly heaves up. An analogous supposition was entertained by the inhabitants of Dutch Guiana.) When the coast is so low that the level of the soil, at a league within the island, does not change to extent of a few inches, these swellings and diminution of the waters strike the imagination of the inhabitants.

The Cayo bonito (Pretty Rock), which we first visited, fully merits its name from the richness of its vegetation. Everything denotes that it has been long above the surface of the ocean; and the central part of the Cayo is not more depressed than the banks. On a layer of sand and land shells, five to six inches thick, covered by a fragmentary madreporic rock, rises a forest of mangroves (Rhizophora). From their form and foliage they might at a distance be mistaken for laurel trees. The Avicennia, the Batis, some small Euphorbia and grasses, by the intertwining of their roots, fix the moving sands. But the characteristic distinction of the Flora of these coral islands is the magnificent Tournefortia gnaphalioides of Jacquin, with silvered leaves, which we found here for the first time. This is a social plant and is a shrub from four feet and a half to five feet high. Its flowers emit an agreeable perfume; and it is the ornament of Cayo Flamenco, Cayo Piedras and perhaps of the greater part of the low lands of the Jardinillos. While we were employed in herborizing,* our sailors were searching among the rocks for lobsters. (* We gathered Cenchrus myosuroides, Euphorbia buxifolia, Batis maritima, Iresine obtusifolia, Tournefortia gnaphalioides, Diomedea glabrata, Cakile cubensis, Dolichos miniatus, Parthenium hysterophorus, etc. The last-named plant, which we had previously found in the valley of Caracas and on the temperate table-lands of Mexico, between 470 and 900 toises high, covers the fields of the island of Cuba. It is used by the inhabitants for aromatic baths, and to drive away the fleas which are so numerous in tropical climates. At Cumana the leaves of several species of cassia are employed, on account of their smell, against those annoying insects.) Disappointed at not finding them, they avenged themselves by climbing on the mangroves and making a dreadful slaughter of the young alcatras, grouped in pairs in their nests. This name is given, in Spanish America, to the brown swan-tailed pelican of Buffon. With the want of foresight peculiar to the great pelagic birds, the alcatra builds his nest where several branches of trees unite together. We counted four or five nests on the same trunk of a mangrove. The young birds defended themselves valiantly with their enormous beaks, which are six or seven inches long; the old ones hovered over our heads, making hoarse and plaintive cries. Blood streamed from the tops of the trees, for the sailors were armed with great sticks and cutlasses (machetes). In vain we reproved them for this cruelty. Condemned to long obedience in the solitude of the seas, this class of men feel pleasure in exercising a cruel tyranny over animals when occasion offers. The ground was covered with wounded birds struggling in death. At our arrival a profound calm prevailed in this secluded spot; now, everything seemed to say: Man has passed this way.

The sky was veiled with reddish vapours, which however dispersed in the direction of south-west; we hoped, but in vain, to discern the heights of the island of Pinos. Those spots have a charm in which most parts of the New World are wanting. They are associated with recollections of the greatest names of the Spanish monarchy—those of Christopher Columbus and of Hernan Cortez. It was on the southern coast of the island of Cuba, between the bay of Xagua and the island of Pinos, that the great Spanish Admiral, in his second voyage, saw, with astonishment, "that mysterious king who spoke to his subjects only by signs, and that group of men who wore long white tunics, like the monks of La Merced, whilst the rest of the people were naked." "Columbus in his fourth voyage found in the Jardinillos, great boats filled with Mexican Indians, and laden with the rich productions and merchandise of Yucatan." Misled by his ardent imagination, he thought he had heard from those navigators, "that they came from a country where the men were mounted on horses,* and wore crowns of gold on their heads." (* Compare the Lettera rarissima di Christoforo Colombo, di 7 di Julio, 1503; with the letter of Herrera, dated December 1. Nothing can be more touching and pathetic than the expression of melancholy which prevails in the letter of Columbus, written at Jamaica, and addressed to King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella. I recommend to the notice of those who wish to understand the character of that extraordinary man, the recital of the nocturnal vision, in which he imagined that he heard a celestial voice, in the midst of a tempest, encouraging him by these words: Iddio maravigliosamente fece sonar tuo nome nella terra. Le Indie que sono pa te del mondo cosi ricca, te le ha date per tue; tu le hai repartite dove ti e piaciuto, e ti dette potenzia per farlo. Delli ligamenti del mare Oceano che erano serrati con catene cosi forte, ti dono le chiave, etc. [God marvellously makes thy name resound throughout the world. The Indies, which are so rich a portion of the world, he gives to thee for thyself; thou mayest distribute them in the way thou pleasest, and God gives thee power to do so. Of the shores of the Atlantic, which were closed by such strong chains, he gives thee the key.] This fragment has been handed down to us only in an ancient Italian tradition; for the Spanish original mentioned in the Biblioteca Nautica of Don Antonio Leon has not hitherto been found. I may add a few more lines, characterized by great simplicity, written by the discoverer of the New World: "Your Highness," says Columbus, "may believe me, the globe of the earth is far from being so great as the vulgar admit. I was seven years at your royal court, and during seven years was told that my enterprise was a folly. Now that I have opened the way, tailors and shoemakers ask the privilege of going to discover new lands. Persecuted, forgotten as I am, I never think of Hispaniola and Paria without my eyes being filled with tears. I was twenty years in the service of your Highness; I have not a hair that is not white; and my body is enfeebled. Heaven and earth now mourn for me; all who have pity, truth, and justice, mourn for me (pianga adesso il cielo e pianga per me la terra; pianga per me chi ha carita, verita, giustizia)." Lettera rarissima pages 13, 19, 34, 37.) "Catayo (China), the empire of the Great Khan, and the mouth of the Ganges," appeared to him so near, that he hoped soon to employ two Arabian interpreters, whom he had embarked at Cadiz, in going to America. Other remembrances of the island of Pinos, and the surrounding Gardens, are connected with the conquest of Mexico. When Hernan Cortes was preparing his great expedition, he was wrecked with his Nave Capitana on one of the flats of the Jardinillos. For the space of five days he was believed to be lost, and the valiant Pedro de Alvarado sent (in November 1518) from the port of Carenas* (the Havannah) three vessels in search of him. (* At that period there were two settlements, one at Puerto de Carenas in the ancient Indian province of the Havannah, and the other—the most considerable—in the Villa de San Cristoval de Cuba. These settlements were only united in 1519 when the Puerto de Carenas took the name of San Cristoval de la Habana. "Cortes," says Herrera, "paso a la Villa de San Cristoval que a la sazon estaba en la costa del sur, y despues se paso a la Habana." [Cortes proceeded to the town of San Cristoval, which at that time was on the sea-coast, and afterwards he repaired to the Havannah.]) In February, 1519, Cortes assembled his whole fleet near cape San Antonio, probably on the spot which still bears the name of Ensenada de Cortes, west of Batabano and opposite to the island of Pinos. From thence, believing he should better escape the snares laid for him by the governor, Velasquez, he passed almost clandestinely to the coast of Mexico. Strange vicissitude of events! the empire of Montezuma was shaken by a handful of men who, from the western extremity of the island of Cuba, landed on the coast of Yucatan; and in our days, three centuries later, Yucatan, now a part of the new confederation of the free states of Mexico, has nearly menaced with conquest the western coast of Cuba.

On the morning of the 11th March we visited Cayo Flamenco. I found the latitude 21 degrees 59 minutes 39 seconds. The centre of this island is depressed and only fourteen inches above the surface of the sea. The water here is brackish while in other cayos it is quite fresh. The mariners of Cuba attribute this freshness of the water to the action of the sands in filtering sea-water, the same cause which is assigned for the freshness of the lagunes of Venice. But this supposition is not justified by any chemical analogy. The cayos are composed of rocks, and not of sands, and their smallness renders it extremely improbable that the pluvial waters should unite in a permanent lake. Perhaps the fresh water of this chain of rocks comes from the neighbouring coast, from the mountains of Cuba, by the effect of hydrostatic pressure. This would prove a prolongation of the strata of Jura limestone below the sea and a superposition of coral rock on that limestone.* (* Eruptions of fresh water in the sea, near Baiae, Syracuse and Aradus (in Phenicia) were known to the ancients. Strabo lib. 16 page 754. The coral islands that surround Radak, especially the low island of Otdia, furnish also fresh water. Chamisso in Kotzebue's Entdekkungs-Reise volume 3 page 108.)

It is too general a prejudice to consider every source of fresh or salt water to be merely a local phenomenon: currents of water circulate in the interior of lands between strata of rocks of a particular density or nature, at immense distances, like the floods that furrow the surface of the globe. The learned engineer, Don Francisco Le Maur, informed me that in the bay of Xagua, half a degree east of the Jardinillos, there issue in the middle of the sea, springs of fresh water, two leagues and a half from the coast. These springs gush up with such force that they cause an agitation of the water often dangerous for small canoes. Vessels that are not going to Xagua sometimes take in water from these ocean springs and the water is fresher and colder in proportion to the depth whence it is drawn. The manatees, guided by instinct, have discovered this region of fresh waters; and the fishermen who like the flesh of these herbivorous animals,* find them in abundance in the open sea. (* Possibly they subsist upon sea-weed in the ocean, as we saw them feed, on the banks of the Apure and the Orinoco, on several species of Panicum and Oplismenus (camalote?). It appears common enough, on the coast of Tabasco and Honduras, at the mouths of rivers, to find the manatees swimming in the sea, as crocodiles do sometimes. Dampier distinguishes between the fresh-water and the salt-water manatee. (Voyages and Descr. volume 2) Among the Cayos de las doce leguas, east of Xagua, some islands bear the name of Meganos del Manati.)

Half a mile east of Cayo Flamenco we passed close to two rocks on which the waves break furiously. They are the Piedras de Diego Perez (latitude 21 degrees 58 minutes 10 seconds.) The temperature of the sea at its surface lowers at this point to 22.6 degrees centigrade, the depth of the water being only about one fathom. In the evening we went on shore at Cayo de Piedras; two rocks connected together by breakers and lying in the direction of north-north-west to south-south-east. On these rocks which form the eastern extremity of the Jardinillos many vessels are lost, and they are almost destitute of shrubs because shipwrecked crews cut them to make fire-signals. The Cayo de Piedras is extremely precipitous on the side near the sea; and towards the middle there is a small basin of fresh water. We found a block of madrepore in the rock, measuring upwards of three cubic feet. Doubtless this limestone formation, which at a distance resembles Jura limestone, is a fragmentary rock. It would be well if this chain of cayos which surrounds the island of Cuba were examined by geologists with the view of determining what may be attributed to the animals which still work at the bottom of the sea, and what belongs to the real tertiary formations, the age of which may be traced back to the date of the coarse limestone abounding in remains of lithophite coral. In general, that which rises above the waters is only breccia, or aggregate of madreporic fragments cemented by carbonate of lime, broken shells, and sand. It is important to examine, in each of the cayos, on what this breccia reposes; whether it covers edifices of mollusca still living, or those secondary and tertiary rocks, which judging from the remains of coral they contain, seem to be the product of our days. The gypsum of the cayos opposite San Juan de los Remedios, on the northern coast of the island of Cuba, merits great attention. Its age is doubtless more remote than historic times, and no geologist will believe that it is the work of the mollusca of our seas.

From the Cayo de Piedras we could faintly discern in the direction of east-north-east the lofty mountains that rise beyond the bay of Xagua. During the night we again lay at anchor; and next day (12th March), having passed between the northern cape of the Cayo de Piedras and the island of Cuba, we entered a sea free from breakers. Its blue colour (a dark indigo tint) and the heightening of the temperature proved how much the depth of the water had augmented. We tried, under favour of the variable winds on sea and shore, to steer eastward as far as the port of La Trinidad so that we might be less opposed by the north-east winds which then prevail in the open sea, in making the passage to Carthagena, of which the meridian falls between Santiago de Cuba and the bay of Guantanamo. Having passed the marshy coast of Camareos,* (* Here the celebrated philanthropist Bartolomeo de las Casas obtained in 1514 from his friend Velasquez, the governor, a good repartimiente de Indios (grant of land so called). But this he renounced in the same year, from scruples of conscience, during a short stay at Jamaica.) we arrived (latitude 21 degrees 50 minutes) in the meridian of the entrance of the Bahia de Xagua. The longitude the chronometer gave me at this point was almost identical with that since published (in 1821) in the map of the Deposito hidrografico of Madrid.

The port of Xagua is one of the finest but least frequented of the island. "There cannot be another such in the world," is the remark of the Coronista major (Antonio de Herrera). The surveys and plans of defence made by M. Le Maur, at the time of the commission of Count Jaruco, prove that the anchorage of Xagua merits the celebrity it acquired even in the first years of the conquest. The town consists merely of a small group of houses and a fort (castillito.) On the east of Xagua, the mountains (Cerros de San Juan) near the coast, assume an aspect more and more majestic; not from their height, which does not seem to exceed three hundred toises, but from their steepness and general form. The coast, I was told, is so steep that a frigate may approach the mouth of the Rio Guaurabo. When the temperature of the air diminished at night to 23 degrees and the wind blew from the land it brought that delicious odour of flowers and honey which characterizes the shores of the island of Cuba.* (* Cuban wax, which is a very important object of trade, is produced by the bees of Europe (the species Apis, Latr.). Columbus says expressly that in his time the inhabitants of Cuba did not collect wax. The great loaf of that substance which he found in the island in his first voyage, and presented to King Ferdinand in the celebrated audience of Barcelona, was afterwards ascertained to have been brought thither by Mexican barques from Yucatan. It is curious that the wax of melipones was the first production of Mexico that fell into the hands of the Spaniards, in the month of November, 1492.) We sailed along the coast keeping two or three miles distant from land. On the 13th March a little before sunset we were opposite the mouth of the Rio San Juan, so much dreaded by navigators on account of the innumerable quantity of mosquitos and zancudos which fill the atmosphere. It is like the opening of a ravine, in which vessels of heavy burden might enter, but that a shoal (placer) obstructs the passage. Some horary angles gave me the longitude 82 degrees 40 minutes 50 seconds for this port which is frequented by the smugglers of Jamaica and the corsairs of Providence Island. The mountains that command the port scarcely rise to 230 toises. I passed a great part of the night on deck. The coast was dreary and desolate. Not a light announced a fisherman's hut. There is no village between Batabano and Trinidad, a distance of fifty leagues; scarcely are there more than two or three corrales or farm yards, containing hogs or cows. Yet, in the time of Columbus, this territory was inhabited along the shore. When the ground is dug to make wells, or when torrents furrow the surface of the earth in floods, stone hatchets and copper utensils* are often discovered; these are remains of the ancient inhabitants of America. (* Doubtless the copper of Cuba. The abundance of this metal in its native state would naturally induce the Indians of Cuba and Hayti to melt it. Columbus says that there were masses of native copper at Hayti, of the weight of six arrobas; and that the boats of Yucatan, which he met with on the eastern coast of Cuba, carried, among other Mexican merchandize, crucibles to melt copper.)

At sunrise I requested the captain to heave the lead. There was no bottom to be found at sixty fathoms; and the ocean was warmer at its surface than anywhere else; it was at 26.8 degrees; the temperature exceeded 4.2 degrees that which we had found near the breakers of Diego Perez. At the distance of half a mile from the coast, the sea water was not more than 2.5 degrees; we had no opportunity of sounding but the depth of the water had no doubt diminished. On the 14th of March we entered the Rio Guaurabo, one of the two ports of Trinidad de Cuba, to put on shore the practico, or pilot of Batabano, who had steered us across the flats of the Jardinillos, though not without causing us to run aground several times. We also hoped to find a packet-boat (correo maritimo) in this port, which would take us to Carthagena. I landed towards the evening, and placed Borda's azimuth compass and the artificial horizon on the shore for the purpose of observing the passage of some stars by the meridian; but we had scarcely begun our preparations when a party of small traders of the class called pulperos, who had dined on board a foreign ship recently arrived, invited us to accompany them to the town. These good people requested us mount two by two on the same horse; and, as the heat was excessive, we accepted their offer. The distance from the mouth of the Rio Guaurabo to Trinidad is nearly four miles in a north-west direction. The road runs across a plain which seems as if it had been levelled by a long sojourn of the waters. It is covered with vegetation, to which the miraguama, a palm-tree with silvered leaves (which we saw here for the first time), gives a peculiar character.* (* Corypha miraguama. Probably the same species which struck Messrs. John and William Fraser (father and son) in the vicinity of Matanzas. Those two botanists, who introduced a great number of valuable plants to the gardens of Europe, were shipwrecked on their voyage to the Havannah from the United States, and saved themselves with difficulty on the cayos at the entrance of the Old Channel, a few weeks before my departure for Carthagena.) This fertile soil, although of tierra colorada, requires only to be tilled and it would yield fruitful harvests. A very picturesque view opens westward on the Lomas of San Juan, a chain of calcareous mountains from 1800 to 2000 toises high and very steep towards the south. Their bare and barren summits form sometimes round blocks; and here and there rise up in points like horns,* a little inclined. (* Wherever the rock is visible I perceived compact limestone, whitish-grey, partly porous and partly with a smooth fracture, as in the Jura formation.) Notwithstanding the great lowering of the temperature during the season of the Nortes or north winds, snow never falls; and only a hoar-frost (escarcha) is seen on these mountains, as on those of Santiago. This absence of snow is difficult to be explained. In emerging from the forest we perceived a curtain of hills of which the southern slope is covered with houses; this is the town of Trinidad, founded in 1514, by the governor Diego Velasquez, on account of the rich mines of gold which were said to have been discovered in the little valley of Rio Arimao.* (* This river flows towards the east into the Bahia de Xagua.) The streets of Trinidad have all a rapid descent: there, as in most parts of Spanish America, it is complained that the Couquistadores chose very injudiciously the sites for new towns.* (* It is questionable whether the town founded by Velasquez was not situated in the plain and nearer the ports of Casilda and Guaurabo. It has been suggested that the fear of the French, Portuguese and English freebooters led to the selection, even in inland places, of sites on the declivity of mountains, whence, as from a watch-tower, the approach of the enemy could be discerned; but it seems to me that these fears could have had no existence prior to the government of Hernando de Soto. The Havannah was sacked for the first time by French corsairs in 1539.) At the northern extremity is the church of Nuestra Senora de la Popa, a celebrated place of pilgrimage. This point I found to be 700 feet above the level of the sea; it commands a magnificent view of the ocean, the two ports (Puerto Casilda and Boca Guaurabo), a forest of palm-trees and the group of the lofty mountains of San Juan. We were received at the town of Trinidad with the kindest hospitality by Senor Munoz, the Superintendent of the Real Hacienda. I made observations during a great part of the night and found the latitude near the cathedral by the Spica Virginis, alpha of the Centaur, and beta of the Southern Cross, under circumstances not equally favourable, to be 21 degrees 48 minutes 20 seconds. My chronometric longitude was 82 degrees 21 minutes 7 seconds. I was informed at my second visit to the Havannah, in returning from Mexico, that this longitude was nearly identical with that obtained by the captain of a frigate, Don Jose del Rio, who had long resided on that spot; but that he marked the latitude of the town at 21 degrees 42 minutes 40 seconds.

The Lieutenant-Governor (Teniente Governadore) of Trinidad, whose jurisdiction then extended to Villa Clara, Principe and Santo Espiritu, was nephew to the celebrated astronomer Don Antonio Ulloa. He gave us a grand entertainment, at which we met some French emigrants from San Domingo who had brought their talents and industry to Spanish America. The exportation of the sugar of Trinidad, by the registers of the custom-house, did not then exceed 4000 chests.

The advantage of having two ports is often discussed at Trinidad. The distance of the town from Puerto de Casilda and Puerto Guaurabo is nearly equal; yet the expense of transport is greatest in the former port. The Boca del Rio Guaurabo, defended by a new battery, furnishes safe anchorage, although less sheltered than that of Puerto Casilda. Vessels that draw little water or are lightened to pass the bar, can go up the river and approach the town within a mile. The packet-boats (correos) that touch at Trinidad de Cuba prefer, in general, the Rio Guaurabo, where they find safe anchorage without needing a pilot. The Puerto Casilda is more inclosed and goes further back inland but cannot be entered without a pilot, on account of the breakers (arrecifes) and the Mulas and Mulattas. The great mole, constructed with wood, and very useful to commerce, was damaged in discharging pieces of artillery. It is entirely destroyed, and it was undecided whether it would be best to reconstruct it with masonry, according to the project of Don Luis de Bassecourt, or to open the bar of Guaurabo by dredging it. The great disadvantage of Puerto de Casilda is the want of fresh water, which vessels have to procure at the distance of a league.

We passed a very agreeable evening in the house of one of the richest inhabitants, Don Antonio Padron, where we found assembled at a tertulia all the good company of Trinidad. We were again struck with the gaiety and vivacity that distinguish the women of Cuba. These are happy gifts of nature to which the refinements of European civilization might lend additional charms but which, nevertheless, please in their primitive simplicity. We quitted Trinidad on the night of the 15th March. The municipality caused us to be conducted to the mouth of the Rio Guaurabo in a fine carriage lined with old crimson damask; and, to add to our confusion, an ecclesiastic, the poet of the place, habited in a suit of velvet notwithstanding the heat of the climate, celebrated, in a sonnet, our voyage to the Orinoco.

On the road leading to the port we were forcibly struck by a spectacle which our stay of two years in the hottest part of the tropics might have rendered familiar to us; but previously I had nowhere seen such an innumerable quantity of phosphorescent insects.* (* Cocuyo, Elater noctilucus.) The grass that overspread the ground, the branches and foliage of the trees, all shone with that reddish and moveable light which varies in its intensity at the will of the animal by which it is produced. It seemed as though the starry firmament reposed on the savannah. In the hut of the poorest inhabitants of the country, fifteen cocuyos, placed in a calabash pierced with holes, afford sufficient light to search for anything during the night. To shake the calabash forcibly is all that is necessary to excite the animal to increase the intensity of the luminous discs situated on each side of its body. The people of the country remark, with a simple truth of expression, that calabashes filled with cocuyos are lanterns always ready lighted. They are, in fact, only extinguished by the sickness or death of the insects, which are easily fed with a little sugar-cane. A young woman at Trinidad de Cuba told us that during a long and difficult passage from the main land, she always made use of the phosphorescence of the cocuyos, when she gave suck to her child at night; the captain of the ship would allow no other light on board, from the fear of corsairs.

As the breeze freshened in the direction of north-east we sought to avoid the group of the Caymans but the current drove us towards those islands. Sailing to south 1/4 south-east, we gradually lost sight of the palm-covered shore, the hills rising above the town of Trinidad and the lofty mountains of the island of Cuba. There is something solemn in the aspect of land from which the voyager is departing and which he sees sinking by degrees below the horizon of the sea. The interest of this impression was heightened at the period to which I here advert; when Saint Domingo was the centre of great political agitations, and threatened to involve the other islands in one of those sanguinary struggles which reveal to man the ferocity of his nature. These threatened dangers were happily averted; the storm was appeased on the spot which gave it birth; and a free black population, far from troubling the peace of the neighbouring islands, has made some steps in the progress of civilization and has promoted the establishment of good institutions. Porto Rico, Cuba and Jamaica, with 370,000 whites and 885,000 men of colour, surround Hayti, where a population of 900,000 negros and mulattos have been emancipated by their own efforts. The negros, more inclined to cultivate alimentary plants than colonial productions, augment with a rapidity only surpassed by the increase of the population of the United States.

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Part 1 of 2

CHAPTER 3.30. PASSAGE FROM TRINIDAD DE CUBA TO RIO SINU. CARTHAGENA. AIR VOLCANOES OF TURBACO. CANAL OF MAHATES.

On the morning of the 17th of March, we came within sight of the most eastern island of the group of the Lesser Caymans. Comparing the reckoning with the chronometric longitude, I ascertained that the currents had borne us in seventeen hours twenty miles westward. The island is called by the English pilots Cayman-brack, and by the Spanish pilots, Cayman chico oriental. It forms a rocky wall, bare and steep towards the south and south-east. The north and north-west part is low, sandy, and scantily covered with vegetation. The rock is broken into narrow horizontal ledges. From its whiteness and its proximity to the island of Cuba, I supposed it to be of Jura limestone. We approached the eastern extremity of Cayman-brack within the distance of 400 toises. The neighbouring coast is not entirely free from danger and breakers; yet the temperature of the sea had not sensibly diminished at its surface. The chronometer of Louis Berthoud gave me 82 degrees 7 minutes 37 seconds for the longitude of the eastern cape of Cayman-brack. The latitude reduced by the reckoning on the rhumbs of wind at the meridian observation, appeared to me to be 19 degrees 40 minutes 50 seconds.

As long as we were within sight of the rock of Cayman-brack sea-turtles of extraordinary dimensions swam round our vessel. The abundance of these animals led Columbus to give the whole group of the Caymans the name of Penascales de las Tortugas (rocks of the turtles.) Our sailors would have thrown themselves into the water to catch some of these animals; but the numerous sharks that accompany them rendered the attempt too perilous. The sharks fixed their jaws on great iron hooks which were flung to them; these hooks were very sharp and (for want of anzuelos encandenados* (* Fish-hooks with chains.)) they were tied to cords: the sharks were in this manner drawn up half the length of their bodies; and we were surprised to see that those which had their mouths wounded and bleeding continued to seize the bait over and over again during several hours.* (* Vidimus quoque squales, quotiescunque, hamo icti, dimidia parte corporis e fluctibus extrahebantur, cito alvo stercus emittere haud absimile excrementis caninis. Commovebat intestina (ut arbitramur) subitus pavor. Although the form and number of teeth change with age, and the teeth appear successively in the shark genus, I doubt whether Don Antonio Ulloa be correct in stating that the young sharks have two, and the old ones four rows of grinders. These, like many other sea-fish, are easily accustomed to live in fresh water, or in water slightly briny. It is observed that sharks (tiburones) abound of late in the Laguna of Maracaybo, whither they have been attracted by the dead bodies thrown into the water after the frequent battles between the Spanish royalists and the Columbian republicans.) At the sight of these voracious fish the sailors in a Spanish vessel always recollect the local fable of the coast of Venezuela, which describes the benediction of a bishop as having softened the habits of the sharks, which are everywhere else the dread of mariners. Do these wild sharks of the port of La Guayra specifically differ from those which are so formidable in the port of the Havannah? And do the former belong to the group of Emissoles with small sharp teeth, which Cuvier distinguishes from the Melandres, by the name of Musteli?

The wind freshened more and more from the south-east, as we advanced in the direction of Cape Negril and the western extremity of the great bank of La Vibora. We were often forced to diverge from our course; and, on account of the extreme smallness of our vessel, we were almost constantly under water. On the 18th of March at noon we found ourselves in latitude 18 degrees 17 minutes 40 seconds, and in 81 degrees 50 minutes longitude. The horizon, to the height of 50 degrees, was covered with those reddish vapours so common within the tropics, and which never seem to affect the hygrometer at the surface of the globe. We passed fifty miles west of Cape Negril on the south, nearly at the point where several charts indicate an insulated flat of which the position is similar to that of Sancho Pardo, opposite to Cape San Antonio de Cuba. We saw no change in the bottom. It appears that the rocky shoal at a depth of four fathoms, near Cape Negril, has no more existence than the rock (cascabel) itself, long believed to mark the western extremity of La Vibora (Pedro Bank, Portland Rock or la Sola), marking the eastern extremity. On the 19th of March, at four in the afternoon, the muddy colour of the sea denoted that we had reached that part of the bank of La Vibora where we no longer find fifteen, and indeed scarcely nine or ten, fathoms of water. Our chronometric longitude was 81 degrees 3 minutes; and our latitude probably below 17 degrees. I was surprised that, at the noon observation, at 17 degrees 7 minutes of latitude, we yet perceived no change in the colour of the water. Spanish vessels going from Batabano or Trinidad de Cuba to Carthagena, usually pass over the bank of La Vibora, on its western side, at between fifteen and sixteen fathoms water. The dangers of the breakers begin only beyond the meridian 80 degrees 45 minutes west longitude. In passing along the bank on its southern limit, as pilots often do in proceeding from Cumana or other parts of the mainland, to the Great Caymnan or Cape San Antonio, they need not ascend along the rocks, above 16 degrees 47 minutes latitude. Fortunately the currents run on the whole bank to south-west.

Considering La Vibora not as a submerged land, but as a heaved-up part of the surface of the globe, which has not reached the level of the sea, we are struck at finding on this great submarine island, as on the neighbouring land of Jamaica and Cuba, the loftiest heights towards its eastern boundary. In that direction are situated Portland Rock, Pedro Keys and South Key, all surrounded by dangerous breakers. The depth is six or eight fathoms; but, in advancing to the middle of the bank, along the line of the summit, first towards the west and then towards the north-west, the depth becomes successively ten, twelve, sixteen and nineteen fathoms. When we survey on the map the proximity of the high lands of San Domingo, Cuba and Jamaica, in the neighbourhood of the Windward Channel, the position of the island of Navaza and the bank of Hormigas, between Capes Tiburon and Morant; when we trace that chain of successive breakers, from the Vibora, by Baxo Nuevo, Serranilla, and Quita Sueno, as far as the Mosquito Sound, we cannot but recognize in this system of islands and shoals the almost-continued line of a heaved-up ridge running from north-east to south-west. This ridge, and the old dyke, which link, by the rock of Sancho Pardo, Cape San Antonio to the peninsula of Yucatan, divide the great sea of the West Indies into three partial basins, similar to those observed in the Mediterranean.

The colour of the troubled waters on the shoal of La Vibora has not a milky appearance like the waters in the Jardinillos and on the bank of Bahama; but it is of a dirty grey colour. The striking differences of tint on the bank of Newfoundland, in the archipelago of the Bahama Islands and on La Vibora, the variable quantities of earthy matter suspended in the more or less troubled waters of the soundings, may all be the effects of the variable absorption of the rays of light, contributing to modify to a certain point the temperature of the sea. Where the shoals are 8 to 10 degrees colder at their surface than the surrounding sea, it cannot be surprising that they should produce a local change of climate. A great mass of very cold water, as on the bank of Newfoundland, in the current of the Peruvian shore (between the port of Callao and Punta Parina* (* I found the surface of the Pacific ocean, in the month of October 1802 on the coast of Truxillo, 15.8 degrees centigrade; in the port of Callao, in November, 15.5; between the parallel of Callao and Punta Parina, in December, 19 degrees; and progressively, when the current advanced towards the equator and receded towards the west-north-west, 20.5 and 22.3 degrees)), or in the African current near Cape Verd, have necessarily an influence on the atmosphere that covers the sea, and on the climate of the neighbouring land; but it is less easy to conceive that those slight changes of temperature (for instance, a centesimal degree on the bank of La Vibora) can impart a peculiar character to the atmosphere of the shoals. May not these submarine islands act upon the formation and accumulation of the vesicular vapours in some other way than by cooling the waters of the surface?

Quitting the bank of La Vibora, we passed between the Baxo Nuevo and the light-house of Camboy; and on the 22nd March we passed more than thirty leagues to westward of El Roncador (The Snorer), a name which this shoal has received from the pilots who assert, on the authority of ancient traditions, that a sound like snoring is heard from afar. If such a sound be really heard, it arises, no doubt, from a periodical issuing of air compressed by the waters in a rocky cavern. I have observed the same phenomenon on several coasts, for instance, on the promontories of Teneriffe, in the limestones of the Havannah,* (* Called by the Spanish sailors El Cordonazo de San Francisco.) and in the granite of Lower Peru between Truxillo and Lima. A project was formed at the Canary Islands for placing a machine at the issue of the compressed air and allowing the sea to act as an impelling force. While the autumnal equinox is everywhere dreaded in the sea of the West Indies (except on the coast of Cumana and Caracas), the spring equinox produces no effect on the tranquillity of those tropical regions: a phenomenon almost the inverse of that observable in high latitudes. Since we had quitted La Vibora the weather had been remarkably fine; the colour of the sea was indigo-blue and sometimes violet, owing to the quantity of medusae and eggs of fish (purga de mar) which covered it. Its surface was gently agitated. The thermometer kept up, in the shade, from 26 to 27 degrees; not a cloud arose on the horizon although the wind was constantly north, or north-north-west. I know not whether to attribute to this wind, which cools the higher layers of the atmosphere, and there produces icy crystals, the halos which were formed round the moon two nights successively. The halos were of small dimensions, 45 degrees diameter. I never had an opportunity of seeing and measuring any* of which the diameter had attained 90 degrees. (* In Captain Parry's first voyage halos were measured round the sun and moon, of which the rays were 22 1/2 degrees; 22 degrees 52 minutes; 38 degrees; 46 degrees. North-west Passage, 1821.) The disappearance of one of those lunar halos was followed by the formation of a great black cloud, from which fell some drops of rain; but the sky soon resumed its fixed serenity, and we saw a long series of falling-stars and bolides which moved in one direction and contrary to that of the wind of the lower strata.

On the 23rd March, a comparison of the reckoning with the chronometric longitude, indicated the force of a current bearing towards west-south-west. Its swiftness, in the parallel of 17 degrees, was twenty to twenty-two miles in twenty-four hours. I found the temperature of the sea somewhat diminished; in latitude 12 degrees 35 minutes it was only 25.9 degrees (air 27.0 degrees). During the whole day the firmament exhibited a spectacle which was thought remarkable even by the sailors and which I had observed on a previous occasion (June 13th, 1799). There was a total absence of clouds, even of those light vapours called dry; yet the sun coloured, with a fine rosy tint, the air and the horizon of the sea. Towards night the sea was covered with great bluish clouds; and when they disappeared we saw, at an immense height, fleecy clouds in regular spaces, and ranged in convergent bands. Their direction was from north-north-west to south-south-east, or more exactly, north 20 degrees west, consequently contrary to the direction of the magnetic meridian.

On the 24th March we entered the gulf which is bounded on the east by the coast of Santa Marta, and on the west by Costa Rica; for the mouth of the Magdalena and that of the Rio San Juan de Nicaragua are on the same parallel, nearly 11 degrees latitude. The proximity of the Pacific Ocean, the configuration of the neighbouring lands, the smallness of the isthmus of Panama, the lowering of the soil between the gulf of Papagayo and the port of San Juan de Nicaragua, the vicinity of the snowy mountains of Santa Marta, and many other circumstances too numerous to mention, combine to create a peculiar climate in this gulf. The atmosphere is agitated by violent gales known in winter by the name of the brizotes de Santa Marta. When the wind abates, the currents bear to north-east, and the conflict between the slight breezes (from east and north-east) and the current renders the sea rough and agitated. In calm weather, the vessels going from Carthagena to Rio Sinu, at the mouth of the Atrato and at Portobello, are impeded in their course by the currents of the coast. The heavy or brizote winds, on the contrary, govern the movement of the waters, which they impel in an opposite direction, towards west-south-west. It is the latter movement which Major Rennell, in his great hydrographic work, calls drift; and he distinguishes it from real currents, which are not owing to the local action of the wind, but to differences of level in the surface of the ocean; to the rising and accumulation of waters in very distant latitudes. The observations which I have collected on the force and direction of the winds, on the temperature and rapidity of the currents, on the influence of the seasons, or the variable declination of the sun, have thrown some light on the complicated system of those pelagic floods that furrow the surface of the ocean: but it is less easy to conceive the causes of the change in the movement of the waters at the same season and with the same wind. Why is the Gulf-stream sometimes borne on the coast of Florida, sometimes on the border of the shoal of Bahama? Why do the waters flow, for the space of whole weeks, from the Havannah to Matanzas, and (to cite an example of the corriente por arriba, which is sometimes observed in the most eastern part of the main land during the prevalence of gentle winds) from La Guayra to Cape Codera and Cumana?

As we advanced, on the 25th of March, towards the coast of Darien, the north-east wind increased with violence. We might have imagined ourselves transported to another climate. The sea became very rough during the night yet the temperature of the water kept up (from latitude 10 degrees 30 minutes, to 9 degrees 47 minutes) at 25.8 degrees. We perceived at sunrise a part of the archipelago* of Saint Bernard, which closes the gulf of Morrosquillo on the north. (* It is composed of the islands Mucara, Ceycen, Maravilla, Tintipan, Panda, Palma, Mangles, and Salamanquilla, which rise little above the sea. Several of them have the form of a bastion. There are two passages in the middle of this archipelago, from seventeen to twenty fathoms. Large vessels can pass between the Isla Panda and Tintipan, and between the Isla de Mangles and Palma.) A clear spot between the clouds enabled me to take the horary angles. The chronometer, at the little island of Mucara, gave longitude 78 degrees 13 minutes 54 seconds. We passed on the southern extremity of the Placer de San Bernardo. The waters were milky, although a sounding of twenty-five fathoms did not indicate the bottom; the cooling of the water was not felt, doubtless owing to the rapidity of the current. Above the archipelago of Saint Bernard and Cape Boqueron we saw in the distance the mountains of Tigua. The stormy weather and the difficulty of going up against the wind induced the captain of our frail vessel to seek shelter in the Rio Sinu, or rather, near the Punta del Zapote, situated on the eastern bank of the Ensenada de Cispata, into which flows the river Sinu or the Zenu of the early Conquistadores. It rained with violence, and I availed myself of that occasion to measure the temperature of the rain-water: it was 26.3 degrees, while the thermometer in the air kept up, in a place where the bulb was not wet, at 24.8 degrees. This result differed much from that we had obtained at Cumana, where the rain-water was often a degree colder than the air.* (* As, within the tropics, it takes but little time to collect some inches of water in a vase having a wide opening, and narrowing towards the bottom, I do not think there can be any error in the observation, when the heat of the rain-water differs from that of the air. If the heat of the rain-water be less than that of the air it may be presumed that only a part of the total effect is observed. I often found at Mexico at the end of June, the rain at 19.2 or 19.4 degrees, when the air was at 17.8 and 18 degrees. In general it appeared to me that, within the torrid zone, either at the level of the sea, or on table-lands from 1200 to 1500 toises high, there is no rain but that during storms, which falls in large drops very distant from each other, and is sensibly colder than the air. These drops bring with them, no doubt, the low temperature of the high regions. In the rain which I found hotter than the air, two causes may act simultaneously. Great clouds heat by the absorption of the rays of the sun which strike their surface; and the drops of water in falling cause an evaporation and produce cold in the air. The temperature of rain-water, to which I devoted much attention during my travels, has become a more important problem since M. Boisgiraud, Professor of Experimental Philosophy at Poitiers, has proved that in Europe rain is generally sufficiently cold, relatively to the air, to cause precipitation of vapour at the surface of every drop. From this fact he traces the cause of the unequal quantity of rain collected at different heights. When we recollect that one degree only of cooling precipitates more water in the hot climate of the tropics, than by a temperature of 10 to 13 degrees, we may cease to be surprised at the enormous size of the drops of rain that fall at Cumana, Carthagena and Guayaquil.)

Our passage from the island of Cuba to the coast of South America terminated at the mouth of the Rio Sinu, and it occupied sixteen days. The roadstead near the Punta del Zapote afforded very bad anchorage; and in a rough sea, and with a violent wind, we found some difficulty in reaching the coast in our canoe. Everything denoted that we had entered a wild region rarely visited by strangers. A few scattered houses form the village of Zapote: we found a great number of mariners assembled under a sort of shed, all men of colour, who had descended the Rio Sinu in their barks, to carry maize, bananas, poultry and other provisions to the port of Carthagena. These barks, which are from fifty to eighty feet long, belong for the most part to the planters (haciendados) of Lorica. The value of their largest freight amounts to about 2000 piastres. These boats are flat-bottomed, and cannot keep at sea when it is very rough. The breezes from the north-east had, during ten days, blown with violence on the coast, while, in the open sea, as far as 10 degrees latitude, we had only had slight gales, and a constantly calm sea. In the aerial, as in the pelagic currents, some layers of fluids move with extreme swiftness, while others near them remain almost motionless. The zambos of the Rio Sinu wearied us with idle questions respecting the purpose of our voyage, our books, and the use of our instruments: they regarded us with mistrust; and to escape from their importunate curiosity we went to herborize in the forest, although it rained. They had endeavoured, as usual, to alarm us by stories of boas (traga-venado), vipers and the attacks of jaguars; but during a long residence among the Chayma Indians of the Orinoco we were habituated to these exaggerations, which arise less from the credulity of the natives, than from the pleasure they take in tormenting the whites. Quitting the coast of Zapote, covered with mangroves,* (* Rhizophora mangle.) we entered a forest remarkable for a great variety of palm-trees. We saw the trunks of the Corozo del Sinu* pressed against each other, which formed heretofore our species Alfonsia, yielding oil in abundance (* In Spanish America palm-trees with leaves the most different in kind and species are called Corozo: the Corozo del Sinu, with a short, thick, glossy trunk, is the Elaeis melanococca of Martius, Palm. page 64 tab. 33, 55. I cannot believe it to be identical with the Elaeis guineensis (Herbal of Congo River page 37) since it vegetates spontaneously in the forests of the Rio Sinu. The Corozo of Caripe is slender, small and covered with thorns; it approaches the Cocos aculeata of Jacquin. The Corozo de los Marinos of the valley of Cauca, one of the tallest palm-trees, is the Cocus butyracea of Linnaeus.); the Cocos butyracea, called here palma dolce or palma real, and very different from the palma real of the island of Cuba; the palma amarga, with fan-leaves that serve to cover the roofs of houses, and the latta,* (* Perhaps of the species of Aiphanes.) resembling the small piritu palm-tree of the Orinoco. This variety of palm-trees was remarked by the first Conquistadores.* (* Pedro de Cieca de Leon, a native of Seville, who travelled in 1531, at the age of thirteen years, in the countries I have described, observes that Las tierras comarcanas del Rio Cenu y del Golfo de Uraba estan llena de unos palmares muy grandes y espessos, que son unos arboles gruessos, y llevan unas ramas como palma de datiles. [The lands adjacent to the Rio Cenu and the Gulf of Uraba are full of very tall, spreading palm-trees. They are of vast size and are branched like the date-palm.] See La Cronica del Peru nuevamenta escrita, Antwerp 1554 pages 21 and 204.) The Alfonsia, or rather the species of Elais, which we had nowhere else seen, is only six feet high, with a very large trunk; and the fecundity of its spathes is such that they contain more than 200,000 flowers. Although a great number of those flowers (one tree bearing 600,000 at the same time) never come to maturity,* the soil remains covered with a thick layer of fruits. (* I have carefully counted how many flowers are contained in a square inch on each amentum, from 100 to 120 of which are found united in one spathe.) We often made a similar observation under the shade of the mauritia palm-tree, the Cocos butyracea, the Seje and the Pihiguao of the Atabapo. No other family of arborescent plants is so prolific in the development of the organs of flowering. The almond of the Corozo del Sinu is peeled in the water. The thick layer of oil that swims in the water is purified by boiling, and yields the butter of Corozo (manteca de Corozo) which is thicker than the oil of the cocoa-tree, and serves to light churches and houses. The palm-trees of the section of Cocoinies of Mr. Brown are the olive-trees of the tropical regions. As we advanced in the forest, we began to find little pathways, looking as though they had been recently cleared out by the hatchet. Their windings displayed a great number of new plants: Mougeotia mollis, Nelsonia albicans, Melampodium paludosum, Jonidium anomalum, Teucrium palustre, Gomphia lucens, and a new kind of Composees, the Spiracantha cornifolia. A fine Pancratium embalmed the air in the humid spots, and almost made us forget that those gloomy and marshy forests are highly dangerous to health.

After an hour's walk we found, in a cleared spot, several inhabitants employed in collecting palm-tree wine. The dark tint of the zambos formed a strong contrast with the appearance of a little man with light hair and a pale complexion who seemed to take no share in the labour. I thought at first that he was a sailor who had escaped from some North American vessel; but I was soon undeceived. This fair-complexioned man was my countryman, born on the coast of the Baltic; he had served in the Danish navy and had lived for several years in the upper part of the Rio Sinu, near Santa Cruz de Lorica. He had come, to use the words of the loungers of the country para ver tierras, y pasear, no mas (to see other lands, and to roam about, nothing else.) The sight of a man who could speak to him of his country seemed to have no attraction for him; and, as he had almost forgotten German without being able to express himself clearly in Spanish, our conversation was not very animated. During the five years of my travels in Spanish America I found only two opportunities of speaking my native language. The first Prussian I met with was a sailor from Memel who served on board a ship from Halifax, and who refused to make himself known till after he had fired some musket-shot at our boat. The second, the man we met at the Rio Sinu, was very amicably disposed. Without answering my questions he continued repeating, with a smile, that the country was hot and humid; that the houses in the town of Pomerania were finer than those of Santa Cruz de Lorica; and that, if we remained in the forest, we should have the tertian fever (calentura) from which he had long suffered. We had some difficulty in testifying our gratitude to this good man for his kind advice; for according to his somewhat aristocratic principles, a white man, were he bare-footed, should never accept money "in the presence of those vile coloured people!" (gente parda). Less disdainful than our European countryman, we saluted politely the group of men of colour who were employed in drawing off into large calabashes, or fruits of the Crescentia cujete, the palm-tree wine from the trunks of felled trees. We asked them to explain to us this operation, which we had already seen practised in the missions of the Cataracts. The vine of the country is the palma dolce, the Cocos butyracea, which, near Malgar, in the valley of the Magdalena, is called the wine palm-tree, and here, on account of its majestic height, the royal palm-tree. After having thrown down the trunk, which diminishes but little towards the top, they make just below the point whence the leaves (fronds) and spathes issue, an excavation in the ligneous part, eighteen inches long, eight broad, and six in depth. They work in the hollow of the tree, as though they were making a canoe; and three days afterwards this cavity is found filled with a yellowish-white juice, very limpid, with a sweet and vinous flavour. The fermentation appears to commence as soon as the trunk falls, but the vessels preserve their vitality; for we saw that the sap flowed even when the summit of the palm-tree (that part whence the leaves sprout out) is a foot higher than the lower end, near the roots. The sap continues to mount as in the arborescent Euphorbia recently cut. During eighteen to twenty days, the palm-tree wine is daily collected; the last is less sweet but more alcoholic and more highly esteemed. One tree yields as much as eighteen bottles of sap, each bottle containing forty-two cubic inches. The natives affirm that the flowing is more abundant when the petioles of the leaves, which remain fixed to the trunk, are burnt.

The great humidity and thickness of the forest forced us to retrace our steps and to gain the shore before sunset. In several places the compact limestone rock, probably of tertiary formation, is visible. A thick layer of clay and mould rendered observation difficult; but a shelf of carburetted and shining slate seemed to me to indicate the presence of more ancient formations. It has been affirmed that coal is to be found on the banks of the Sinu. We met with Zambos carrying on their shoulders the cylinders of palmetto, improperly called the cabbage palm, three feet long and five to six feet thick. The stem of the palm-tree has been for ages an esteemed article of food in those countries. I believe it to be wholesome although historians relate that, when Alonso Lopez de Ayala was governor of Uraba, several Spaniards died after having eaten immoderately of the palmetto, and at the same time drinking a great quantity of water. In comparing the herbaceous and nourishing fibres of the young undeveloped leaves of the palm-trees with the sago of the Mauritia, of which the Indians make bread similar to that of the root of the Jatropha manihot, we involuntarily recollect the striking analogy which modern chemistry has proved to exist between ligneous matter and the amylaceous fecula. We stopped on the shore to collect lichens, opegraphas and a great number of mosses (Boletus, Hydnum, Helvela, Thelephora) that were attached to the mangroves, and there, to my great surprise, vegetating, although moistened by the sea-water.

Before I quit this coast, so seldom visited by travellers and described by no modern voyager, I may here offer some information which I acquired during my stay at Carthagena. The Rio Sinu in its upper course approaches the tributary streams of the Atrato which, to the auriferous and platiniferous province of Choco, is of the same importance as the Magdalena to Cundinamarca, or the Rio Cauca to the provinces of Antioquia and Popayan. The three great rivers here mentioned have heretofore been the only commercial routes, I might almost add, the only channels of communication for the inhabitants. The Rio Atrato receives, at twelve leagues distance from its mouth, the Rio Sucio on the east; the Indian village of San Antonio is situated on its banks. Proceeding upward beyond the Rio Pabarando, you arrive in the valley of Sinu. After several fruitless attempts on the part of the Archbishop Gongora to establish colonies in Darien del Norte and on the eastern coast of the gulf of Uraba, the Viceroy Espeleta recommended the Spanish Government to fix its whole attention on the Rio Sinu; to destroy the colony of Cayman; to fix the planters in the Spanish village of San Bernardo del Viento in the jurisdiction of Lorica; and from that post, which is the most westerly, to push forward the peaceful conquests of agriculture and civilization towards the banks of the Pabarando, the Rio Sucio and the Atrato.* (* I will here state some facts which I obtained from official documents during my stay at Carthagena, and which have not yet been published. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries the name of Darien was given vaguely to the whole coast extending from the Rio Damaquiel to the Punta de San Blas, on 2 1/4 degrees of longitude. The cruelties exercised by Pedrarias Davila rendered almost inaccessible to the Spaniards a country which was one of the first they had colonized. The Indians (Dariens and Cunas-Cunas) remained masters of the coast, as they still are at Poyais, in the land of the Mosquitos. Some Scotchmen formed in 1698 the settlements of New Caledonia, New Edinburgh and Scotch Port, in the most eastern part of the isthmus, a little west of Punta Carreto. They were soon driven away by the Spaniards but, as the latter occupied no part of the coast, the Indians continued their attacks against Choco's boats, which from time to time descended the Rio Atrato, The sanguinary expedition of Don Manuel de Aldarete in 1729 served only to augment the resentment of the natives. A settlement for the cultivation of the cocoa-tree, attempted in the territory of Urabia in 1740 by some French planters under the protection of the Spanish Government, had no durable success; and the court, excited by the reports of the archbishop-viceroy, Gongora, ordered, by the cedule of the 15th August, 1783, either the conversion and conquest, or the destruction (reduccion o extincion) of the Indians of Darien. This order, worthy of another age, was executed by Don Antonio de Arebalo: he experienced little resistance and formed, in 1785, the four settlements and forts of Cayman on the eastern coast of the Gulf of Urabia, Concepcion, Carolina and Mandinga. The Lele, or high-priest of Mandinga, took an oath of fidelity to the King of Spain; but in 1786 the war with the Darien Indians recommenced and was terminated by a treaty concluded July 27th, 1787, between the archbishop-viceroy and the cacique Bernardo. The forts and new colonies, which figured only on the maps sent to Madrid, augmented the debt of the treasury of Santa Fe de Bogota, in 1789, to the sum of 1,200,000 piastres. The viceroy, Gil Lemos, wiser than his predecessor, obtained permission from the Court to abandon Carolina, Concepcion and Mandinga. The settlement of Cayman only was preserved, on account of the navigation of the Atrato, and it was declared free, under the government of the archbishop-viceroy: it was proposed to transfer this settlement to a more healthy spot, that of Uraba; but lieutenant-general Don Antonio Arebalo, having proved that the expense of this removal would amount to the sum of 40,000 piastres, the fort of Cayman was also destroyed, by order of the viceroy Espeleta in 1791, and the planters were compelled to join those of the village of San Bernardo.) The number of independent Indians who inhabit the lands between Uraba, Rio Atrato, Rio Sucio and Rio Sinu was, according to a census made in 1760, at least 1800. They were distributed in three small villages, Suraba, Toanequi and Jaraguia. This population was computed, at the period when I travelled there, to be 3000. The natives, comprehended in the general name of Caymans, live at peace with the inhabitants of San Bernardo del Viento (pueblo de Espanoles), situated on the western bank of the Rio Sinu, lower than San Nicolas de Zispata, and near the mouth of the river. These people have not the ferocity of the Darien and Cunas Indians, on the left bank of the Atrato; who often attack the boats trading with the town of Quidbo in the Choco; they also make incursions on the territory of Uraba, in the months of June and November, to collect the fruit of the cacao-trees. The cacao of Uraba is of excellent quality; and the Darien Indians sometimes come to sell it, with other productions, to the inhabitants of Rio Sinu, entering the valley of that river by one of its tributary streams, the Jaraguai.

It cannot be doubted that the Gulf of Darien was considered, at the beginning of the sixteenth century, as a nook in the country of the Caribs. The word Caribana is still preserved in the name of the eastern cape of that gulf. We know nothing of the languages of the Darien, Cunas and Cayman Indians: and we know not whether Carib or Arowak words are found in their idioms; but it is certain, notwithstanding the testimony of Anghiera on the identity of the race of the Caribs of the Lesser Antilles and the Indians of Uraba, that Pedro de Cieca, who lived so long among the latter, never calls them Caribs nor cannibals. He describes the race of that tribe as being naked with long hair, and going to the neighbouring countries to trade; and says the women are cleanly, well dressed and extremely engaging (amorosas y galanas). "I have not seen," adds the Conquistador, "any women more beautiful* in all the Indian lands I have visited: they have one fault, however, that of having too frequent intercourse with the devil." (* Cronica del Peru pages 21 and 22. The Indians of Darien, Uraba, Zenu (Sinu), Tatabe, the valleys of Nore and of Guaca, the mountains of Abibe and Antioquia, are accused, by the same author, of the most ferocious cannibalism; and perhaps that circumstance alone gives rise to the idea that they were of the same race as the Caribs of the West Indies. In the celebrated Provision Real of the 30th of October, 1503, by which the Spaniards are permitted to make slaves of the anthropophagic Indians of the archipelago of San Bernardo, opposite the mouth of the Rio Sinu, the Isla Fuerte, Isla Bura (Baru) and Carthagena, there is more of a question of morals than of race, and the denomination of Caribs is altogether avoided. Cieca asserts that the natives of the valley of Nore seized the women of neighbouring tribes, in order first to devour the children who were born of the union with foreign wives, and then the women themselves. Foreseeing that this horrible depravity would not be believed, although it had been observed by Columbus in the West Indies, he cites the testimony of Juan de Vadillo, who had observed the same facts and who was still living in 1554 when the Cronica del Peru appeared in Dutch. With respect to the etymology of the word cannibal, it seems to me entirely cleared up by the discovery of the journal kept by Columbus during his first voyage of discovery, and of which Bartholomew de las Casas has left us an abridged copy. Dice mas el Almirante que en las islas passadas estaban con gran temor de carib: y en algunas los llamaban caniba; pero en la Espanola carib y son gente arriscada, pues andan por todas estas islas y comen la gente que pueden haber. [And the Admiral moreover says that in the islands they passed, great apprehension was entertained on account of the caribs. Some call them canibas; but in Spanish they are called caribs. They are a very bold people, and they travel about these islands, and devour all the persons whom they capture.] Navarete tome 1 page 135. In this primitive form of words it is easy to perceive that the permutation of the letters r and n, resulting from the imperfection of the organs in some nations, might change carib into canib, or caniba. Geraldini who, according to the tendency of that age, sought, like Cardinal Bembo, to latinize all barbarous denominations, recognizes in the Cannibals the manners of dogs (canes) just as St. Louis desired to send the Tartars ad suas tartareas sedes unde exierint.)

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Part 2 of 2

The Rio Sinu, owing to its position and its fertility, is of the highest importance for provisioning Carthagena. In time of war the enemy usually stationed their ships between the Morro de Tigua and the Boca de Matunilla, to intercept barques laden with provisions. In that station they were, however, sometimes exposed to the attack of the gun-boats of Carthagena: these gun-boats can pass through the channel of Pasacaballos which, near Saint Anne, separates the isle of Baru from the continent. Lorica has, since the sixteenth century, been the principal town of Rio Sinu; but its population which, in 1778, under the government of Don Juan Diaz Pimienta, amounted to 4000 souls, has considerably diminished, because nothing has been done to secure the town from inundations and the deleterious miasmata they produce.

The gold-washings of the Rio Sinu, heretofore so important above all, between its source and the village of San Geronimo, have almost entirely ceased, as well as those of Cienega de Tolu, Uraba and all the rivers descending from the mountains of Abibe. "The Darien and the Zenu," says the bachelor Enciso in his geographical work published at the beginning of the sixteenth century, "is a country so rich in gold pepites that, in the running waters, that metal can be fished with nets." Excited by these narratives, the governor Pedrarias sent his lieutenant, Francisco Becerra, in 1515, to the Rio Sinu. This expedition was most unfortunate for Becerra and his troop were massacred by the natives, of whom the Spaniards, according to the custom of the time, had carried away great numbers to be sold as slaves in the West Indies. The province of Antioquia now furnishes, in its auriferous veins, a vast field for mining speculations; but it might be well worth while to relinquish gold-washings for the cultivation of colonial productions in the fertile lands of Sinu, the Rio Damaquiel, the Uraba and the Darien del Norte; above all, that of cacao, which is of a superior quality. The proximity of the port of Carthagena would also render the neglected cultivation of cinchona an object of great importance to European trade. That precious tree vegetates at the source of the Rio Sinu, as in the mountains of Abibe and Maria. The real febrifuge cinchona, with a hairy corolla, is nowhere else found so near the coast, if we except the Sierra Nevada of Santa Marta.

The Rio Sinu and the Gulf of Darien were not visited by Columbus. The most eastern point at which that great man touched land, on the 26th November, 1503, is the Puerto do Retreto, now called Punta de Escribanos, near the Punta of San Blas, in the isthmus of Panama. Two years previously, Rodrigo de Bastidas and Alanso do Ojeda, accompanied by Amerigo Vespucci, had discovered the whole coast of the main land, from the Gulf of Maracaybo as far as the Puerto de Retreto. Having often had occasion in the preceding volumes to speak of New Andalusia, I may here mention that I found that denomination, for the first time, in the convention made by Alonso de Ojeda with the Conquistador Diego de Sicuessa, a powerful man, say the historians of his time, because he was a flattering courtier and a wit. In 1508 all the country from the Cabo de la Vela to the Gulf of Uraba, where the Castillo del Oro begins, was called New Andalusia, a name since restricted to the province of Cumana.

A fortunate chance led me to see, during the course of my travels, the two extremities of the main land, the mountainous and verdant coast of Paria, which Columbus supposes to have been the cradle of the human race, and the low and humid coast extending from the mouth of the Sinu towards the Gulf of Darien. The comparison of these scenes, which have again relapsed into a savage state, confirms what I have elsewhere advanced relative to the strange and sometimes retrograde nature of civilization in America. On one side, the coast of Paria, the islands of Cubagua and Marguerita; on the other, the Gulf of Uraba and Darien, received the first Spanish colonists. Gold and pearls, which were there found in abundance, because from time immemorial they had been accumulated in the hands of the natives, gave those countries a popular celebrity from the beginning of the sixteenth century. At Seville, Toledo, Pisa, Genoa and Antwerp those countries were viewed like the realms of Ormuz and of Ind. The pontiffs of Rome mentioned them in their bulls; and Bembo has celebrated them in those historical pages which add lustre to the glory of Venice.

At the close of the fifteenth, and the beginning of the sixteenth century, Europe saw, in those parts of the New World discovered by Columbus, Ojeda, Vespucci and Rodrigo de Bastidas, only the advanced capes of the vast territories of India and eastern Asia. The immense wealth of those territories in gold, diamonds, pearls and spices had been vaunted in the narratives of Benjamin de Tudela, Rubruquis, Marco Polo and Mandeville. Columbus, whose imagination was excited by these narrations, caused a deposition to be made before a notary, on the 12th of June, 1494, in which sixty of his companions, pilots, sailors and passengers certified upon oath that the southern coast of Cuba was a part of the continent of India. The description of the treasures of Cathay and Cipango, of the celestial town of Quinsay and the province of Mango, which had fired the admiral's ambition in early life, pursued him like phantoms in his declining days. In his fourth and last voyage, on approaching the coast of Cariay (Poyais or Mosquito Coast), Veragua and the Isthmus, he believed himself to be near the mouth of the Ganges.* (* Tambien dicen que la mar baxa a Ciguare, y de alli a diez jornadas es el Rio de Guangues: para que estas tierras estan con Veragua como Tortosa con Fuenterabia o Pisa con Venecia." [Also it is said that the sea lowers at Ciguara, and from thence it is a ten days' journey to the river Ganges; for these lands are, with reference to Veragua, like Tortosa with respect to Fuenterabia, or Pisa, with respect to Venice.] These words are taken from the Lettera Rarissima of Columbus, of which the original Spanish was lately found, and published by the learned M. Navarrete, in his Coleccion de Viages volume 1 page 299.) These geographical illusions, this mysterious veil, which enveloped the first discoveries, contributed to magnify every object, and to fix the attention of Europe on regions, the very names of which are, to us, scarcely known. New Cadiz, the principal seat of the pearl-fishery, was on an island which has again become uninhabited. The extremity of the rocky coast of Paria is also a desert. Several towns were founded at the mouth of the Rio Atrato, by the names of Antigua del Darien, Uraba or San Sebastian de Buenavista. In these spots, so celebrated at the beginning of the sixteenth century, the historians of the conquest tell us that the flower of the Castilian heroes were found assembled: thence Balboa set out to discover the South Sea; Pizarro marched from thence to conquer and ravage Peru; and Pedro de Cieca constantly followed the chain of the Andes, by Autioquia, Popayan and Cuzco, as far as La Plata, after having gone 900 leagues by land. These towns of Darien are destroyed; some ruins scattered on the hills of Uraba, the fruit-trees of Europe mixed with native trees, are all that mark to the traveller the spots on which those towns once stood. In almost all Spanish America the first lands peopled by the Conquistadores, have retrograted into barbarism.* (* In carefully collating the testimonies of the historians of the Conquest, some contradictions are observed in the periods assigned to the foundation of the towns of Darien. Pedro de Cieca, who had been on the spot, affirms that, under the government of Alonzo de Ojeda and Nicuessa, the town of Nuestra Senora Santa Maria el Antigua del Darien was founded on the western coast of the Gulf or Culata de Uraba, in 1509; and that later (despues desto passado) Ojeda passed to the eastern coast of the Culata to construct the town of San Sebastian de Uraba. The former, called by abbreviation Ciudad del Antigua, had soon a population of 2000 Spaniards; while the latter, the Ciudad del Uraba, remained uninhabited, because Francisco Pizarro, since known as the conqueror of Peru, was forced to abandon it, having vainly demanded succour from St. Domingo. The historian Herrera, after having said that the foundation of Antigua had preceded by one year that of Uraba or San Sebastian, affirms the contrary in the following chapter and in the Chronicle itself. It was, according to the Chronicle, in 1501 that Ojeda, accompanied by Vespucci, and penetrating for the first time the Gulf of Uraba or Darien, resolved to construct, with wood and unbaked bricks, a fort at the entrance of Culata. It appears, however, that this enterprise was not executed; for, in 1508, in the convention made by Ojeda and Nicuessa, they each promised to build two fortresses on the limits of New Andalusia and of Castillo del Oro. Herrera, in the 7th and 8th books of the first Decade, fixes the foundation of San Sebastian de Uraba at the beginning of 1510, and mentions it as the most ancient town of the continent of America, after that of Ceragua, founded by Columbus in 1503, on the Rio Belen. He relates how Francisco Pizarro abandoned that town, and how the foundation of the Ciudad del Antigua by Entiso, towards the end of the year 1510, was the consequence of that event. Leo X made Antigua a bishopric in 1514; and this was the first episcopal church of the continent. In 1519 Pedrarius Davila persuaded the court of Madrid, by false reports, that the site of the new town of Panama was more healthful than that of Antigua, the inhabitants were compelled to abandon the latter town, and the bishopric was transferred to Panama. The Gulf of Uraba was deserted during thirteen years, till the founder of the town of Carthagena, Pedro de Heredia, after having dug up the graves, or huacas, of the Rio Sinu, to collect gold, sent his brother Alonzo, in 1532, to repeople Uraba, and reconstruct on that spot a town under the name of San Sebastian de Buenavista.) Other countries, discovered later, attract the attention of the colonists: such is the natural progress of things in peopling a vast continent. It may be hoped that on several points the people will return to the places that were first chosen. It is difficult to conceive why the mouth of a great river, descending from a country rich in gold and platina, should have remained uninhabited. The Atrato, heretofore called Rio del Darien, de San Juan or Dabayba, has had the same fate as the Orinoco. The Indians who wander around the delta of those rivers continue in a savage state.

We weighed anchor in the road of Zapote, on the 27th March, at sunrise. The sea was less stormy, and the weather rather warmer, although the fury of the wind was undiminished. We saw on the north a succession of small cones of extraordinary form, as far as the Morro de Tigua; they are known by the name of the Paps (tetas) of Santero, Tolu, Rincon and Chichimar. The two latter are nearest the coast. The Tetas de Tolu rise in the middle of the savannahs. There, from the trunks of the Toluifera balsamum, is collected the precious balsam of Tolu, heretofore so celebrated in the pharmacopoeias of Europe, and in which is a profitable article of trade at Corozal, Caimito and the town of Tocasuan. In the savannahs (altas del Tolu) oxen and mules wander half wild. Several of those hills between Cienega de Pesquero and the Punta del Comissario are linked two-and-two together, like basaltic columns; it is, however, very probable that they are calcareous, like the Tetas de Managua, south of the Havannah. In the archipelago of San Bernardo we passed between the island of Salamanquilla and Cape Boqueron. We had scarcely quitted the gulf of Morosquillo when the sea became so rough that the waves frequently washed over the deck of our little vessel. It was a fine moonlight night. Our captain sought in vain a sheltering-place on the coast to the north of the village of Rincon. We cast anchor at four fathoms but, having discovered that we were lying over a reef of coral, we preferred the open sea.

The coast has a singular configuration beyond the Morro de Tigua, the terminatory point of the group of little mountains which rise like islands from the plain. We found at first a marshy soil extending over a square of eight leagues between the Bocas de Matuna and Matunilla. These marshes are connected by the Cienega de la Cruz, with the Dique of Mahates and the Rio Magdalena. The island of Baru which, with the island of Tierra Bomba, forms the vast port of Carthagena, is, properly speaking, but a peninsula fourteen miles long, separated from the continent by the narrow channel of Pasacaballos. The archipelago of San Bernardo is situated opposite Cape Boqueron. Another archipelago, called Rosario, lies off the southern point of the peninsula of Baru. These rents in the coast are repeated at the 10 3/4 and 11 degrees of latitude. The peninsulas near the Ensenada of Galera de Zamba and near the port of Savanilla have the same aspect as the peninsula Baru. Similar causes have produced similar effects; and the geologist must not neglect those analogies, in the configuration of a coast which, from Punta Caribana in the mouth of the Atrato, beyond the cape of La Vela, along an extent of 120 leagues, has a general direction from south-west to north-east.

The wind having dropped during the night we could only advance to the island of Arenas where we anchored. I found it was 78 degrees 2 minutes 10 seconds of longitude. The weather became stormy during the night. We again set sail on the morning of the 29th of March, hoping to be able to reach Boca Chica that day. The gale blew with extreme violence, and we were unable to proceed with our frail bark against the wind and the current, when, by a false manoeuvre in setting the sails (we had but four sailors), we were during some minutes in imminent danger. The captain, who was not a very bold mariner, declined to proceed further up the coast and we took refuge, sheltered from the wind, in a nook of the island of Baru south of Punta Gigantes. It was Palm Sunday and the Zambo, who had accompanied us to the Orinoco and did not leave us till we returned to France, reminded us that on the same Sunday in the preceding year, we had nearly been lost on the north of the mission of Uruana.

There was to be an eclipse of the moon during the night, and the next day an occultation of alpha Virginis. The observation of the latter phenomenon might have been very important in determining the longitude of Carthagena. In vain I urged the captain to allow one of his sailors to accompany me by land to the foot of Boca Chica, a distance of five miles. He objected on account of the wild state of the country in which there is neither habitation nor path. A little incident which might have rendered Palm-Sunday more fatal justified the prudence of the captain. We went by moonlight to collect plants on the shore; as we approached the land, we saw a young negro issue from the thicket. He was quite naked, loaded with chains, and armed with a machete. He invited us to land on a part of the beach covered with large mangroves, as being a spot where the surf did not break, and offered to conduct us to the interior of the island of Baru if we would promise to give him some clothes. His cunning and wild appearance, the often-repeated question whether we were Spaniards, and certain unintelligible words which he addressed to some of his companions who were concealed amidst the trees, inspired us with some mistrust. These blacks were no doubt maroon negroes: slaves escaped from prison. This unfortunate class are much to be feared: they have the courage of despair, and a desire of vengeance excited by the severity of the whites. We were without arms; the negroes appeared to be more numerous than we were and, thinking that possibly they invited us to land with the desire of taking possession of our canoe, we thought it most prudent to return on board. The aspect of a naked man wandering on an uninhabited beach, unable to free himself from the chains fastened round his neck and the upper part of his arm, was an object calculated to excite the most painful impressions. Our sailors wished to return to the shore for the purpose of seizing the fugitives, to sell them secretly at Carthagena. In countries where slavery exists the mind is familiarized with suffering and that instinct of pity which characterizes and enobles our nature is blunted.

Whilst we lay at anchor near the island of Baru in the meridian of Punta Gigantes I observed the eclipse of the moon of the 29th of March, 1801. The total immersion took place at 11 hours 30 minutes 12.6 seconds mean time. Some groups of vapours, scattered over the azure vault of the sky, rendered the observation of the immersion uncertain.

During the total eclipse the lunar disc displayed, as almost always happens, a reddish tint, without disappearing; the edges, examined with a sextant, were strongly undulating, notwithstanding the considerable altitude of the orb. It appeared to me that the moon was more luminous than I had ever seen it in the temperate zone. The vividness of the light, it may be conceived, does not depend solely on the state of the atmosphere, which reflects, more or less feebly, the solar rays, by inflecting them in the cone of the shade. The light is also modified by the variable transparency of that part of the atmosphere across which we perceived the moon eclipsed. Within the tropics great serenity of the sky and a perfect dissolution of the vapours diminish the extinction of the light sent back to us by the lunar disc. I was singularly struck during the eclipse by the want of uniformity in the distribution of the refracted light by the terrestrial atmosphere. In the central region of the disc there was a shadow like a round cloud, the movement of which was from east to west. The part where the immersion was to take place was consequently a few minutes prior to the immersion much more brightly illumined than the western edges. Is this phenomenon to be attributed to an inequality of our atmosphere; to a partial accumulation of vapour which, by absorbing a considerable part of the solar light, inflects less on one side the cone of the shadow of the earth? If a similar cause, in the perigee of central eclipses, sometimes renders the disc invisible, may it not happen also that only a small portion of the moon is seen; a disc, irregularly formed, and of which different parts were successively enlightened?

On the morning of the 30th of March we doubled Punta Gigantes, and made for the Boca Chica, the present entrance of the port of Carthagena. From thence the distance is seven or eight miles to the anchorage near the town; and although we took a practico to pilot us, we repeatedly touched on the sandbanks. On landing I learned, with great satisfaction, that the expedition appointed to take the survey of the coast under the direction of M. Fidalgo, had not yet put to sea. This circumstance not only enabled me to ascertain the astronomical position of several towns on the shore which had served me as points of departure in fixing chronometrically the longitude of the Llanos and the Orinoco, but also served to guide me with respect to the future direction of my journey to Peru. The passage from Carthagena to Porto Bello and that of the isthmus by the Rio Chagres and Cruces, are alike short and easy; but it was to be feared that we might stay long at Panama before we found an opportunity of proceeding to Guayaquil, and in that case the voyage on the Pacific would be extremely lingering, as we should have to sail against contrary winds and currents. I relinquished with regret the hope of levelling by the barometer the mountains of the isthmus, though it would then have been difficult to foresee that at the present time (1827), while measurements have been effected on so many other points of Mexico and Columbia, we should remain in ignorance of the height of the ridge which divides the waters in the isthmus. The persons we consulted all agreed that the journey by land along the Cordilleras by Santa Fe de Bogota, Popayan, Quito and Caxamarca would be preferable to the sea-voyage, and would furnish an immense field for exploration. The predilection of Europeans for the tierras frias, that is to say, the cold and temperate climate that prevails on the back of the Andes, gave further weight to these counsels. The distances were known, but we were deceived with respect to the time it would take to traverse them on mules' backs. We did not imagine that it would require more than eighteen months to go from Carthagena to Lima. Notwithstanding this delay, or rather owing to the slowness with which we passed through Cundinamarca, the provinces of Popayan and Quito, I did not regret having sacrificed the passage of the isthmus to the route of Bogota, for every step of the journey was full of interest both geographically and botanically. This change of direction gave me occasion to trace the map of the Rio Magdalena, to determine astronomically the position of eighty points situated in the inland country between Carthagena, Popayan, and the upper course of the river Amazon and Lima, to discover the error in the longitude of Quito, to collect several thousand new plants, and to observe on a vast scale the relations between the rocks of syenitic porphyry and trachyte with the fire of volcanoes.

The result of those labours of which it is not for me to appreciate the importance have long since been published. My map of the Rio Magdalena, multiplied by the copies of the year 1802 in America and Spain, and comprehending the country between Almaguer and Santa Marta, from 1 degree 54 minutes to 11 degrees 15 minutes latitude, appeared in 1816. Till that period no traveller had undertaken to describe New Grenada; and the public, except in Spain, knew the navigation of the Magdalena only by some lines traced by Bouguer. That learned traveller had descended the river from Honda; but, being in want of astronomical instruments, he had ascertained but four or five latitudes, by means of small dials hastily constructed. The narratives of travels in America are now singularly multiplied. Political events have led numbers of persons to those countries: and travellers have perhaps too hastily published their journals on returning to Europe. They have described the towns where they resided, and landscape scenery remarkable for beauty; they have furnished information respecting the inhabitants and the different modes of travelling in barks, on mules or on men's backs. These works, several of which are agreeable and instructive, have familiarized the nations of the Old World with those of Spanish America, from Buenos Ayres and Chili as far as Zacatecas and New Mexico. But unfortunately, in many instances, the want of a thorough knowledge of the Spanish language and the little care taken to acquire the names of places, rivers and tribes, have occasioned extraordinary mistakes.

During the six days of our stay at Carthagena our most interesting excursions were to the Boca Grande and the hill of Popa; the latter commands the town and a very extensive view. The port, or rather the bahia, is nearly nine miles and a half long, if we compute the length from the town (near the suburb of Jehemani or Xezemani) to the Cienega of Cacao. The Cienega is one of the nooks of the isle of Baru, south-west of the Estero de Pasacaballos, by which we reach the opening of the Dique de Mahates. Two extremities of the small island of Tierra Bomba form, on the north, with a neck of land of the continent, and on the south, with a cape of the island of Baru, the only entrances to the Bay of Carthagena; the former is called Boca Grande, the second Boca Chica. This extraordinary conformation of the land has given birth, for the space of a century, to theories entirely contradictory respecting the defence of a place which, next to the Havannah and Porto Cabello, is the most important of the main land and the West Indies. Engineers differed respecting the choice of the opening which should be closed; and it was not, as some writers have stated, after the landing of Admiral Vernon, in 1741, that the idea was first conceived* of filling up the Boca Grande. (* Don Jorge Juan in his Secret Notices addressed to the Marques de la Ensenada says: La entrada antigua era por un angosto canal que llaman Boca Chica; de resultas de esta invasion se acordo deja cioga y impassable la Boca Grande, y volver a abrir la antigua fortificandola. [The old entrance was by a narrow channel called the Boca Chica; but after this invasion it was determined to close up the Boca Grande and to open the old passage, fortifying it.] Secr. Not. volume 1 page 4.) The English forced the small entrance when they made themselves masters of the bay; but being unable to take the town of Carthagena, which made a gallant resistance, they destroyed the Castillo Grande (called also Santa Cruz) and the two forts of San Luis and San Jose which defended the Boca Chica.

The apprehension excited by the proximity of the Boca Grande to the town determined the court of Madrid, after the English expedition, to shut up the entrance along a distance of 2640 varas. From two and a half to three fathoms of water were found; and a wall, or rather a dyke, in stone, from fifteen to twenty feet high, was raised on piles. The slope on the side of the water is unequal, and seldom 45 degrees. This immense work was completed under the Viceroy Espeleta in 1795. But art could not vanquish nature; the sea is unceasingly though gradually silting up the Boca Chica, while it labours unceasingly to open and enlarge the Boca Grande. The currents which, during a great part of the year, especially when the bendavales blow with violence, ascend from south-west to north-east, throw sand into the Boca Chica, and even into the bay itself. The passage, which is from seventeen to eighteen fathoms deep, becomes more and more narrow,* and if a regular cleansing be not established by dredging machines, vessels will not be able to enter without risk. (* At the foot of the two forts San Jose and San Fernando, constructed for the defence of the Boca Chica, it may be seen how much the land has gained upon the sea. Necks of land are formed on both sides, and also before the Castillo del Angel which, northward, commands the fort of San Fernando.) It is this small entrance which should have been closed; its opening is only 250 toises, and the passage or navigable channel is 110 toises. If it should one day be determined to abandon the Boca Chica, and re-establish the Boca Grande in the state which nature seems to prescribe, new fortifications must be constructed on the south-south-west of the town. This fortress has always required great pecuniary outlays to keep it up.

The insalubrity of Carthagena varies with the state of the great marshes that surround the town on the east and north. The Cienega de Tesca is more than fifteen miles long; it communicates with the ocean where it approaches the village of Guayeper. When, in years of drought, the heaped-up earth prevents the salt water from covering the whole plain, the emanations that rise during the heat of the day when the thermometer stands between 28 and 32 degrees are very pernicious to the health of the inhabitants. A small portion of hilly land separates the town of Carthagena and the islet of Manga from the Cienega de Tesca. Those hills, some of which are more than 500 feet high, command the town. The Castillo de San Lazaro is seen from afar rising like a great rocky pyramid; when examined nearer its fortifications are not very formidable. Layers of clay and sand, belonging to the tertiary formation of nagelfluhe, are covered with bricks and furnish a kind of construction which has little stability. The Cerro de Santa Maria de la Popa, crowned by a convent and some batteries, rises above the fort of San Lazaro and is worthy of more solid and extensive works. The image of the Virgin, preserved in the church of the convent, has been long revered by mariners. The hill itself forms a prolonged ridge from west to east. The calcareous rock, with cardites, meandrites and petrified corals, somewhat resembles the tertiary limestone of the peninsula of Araya near Cumana. It is split and decomposed in the steep parts of the rock, and the preservation of the convent on so unsolid a foundation is considered by the people as one of the miracles of the patron of the place. Near the Cerro de la Popa there appears, on several points, breccia with a limestone cement containing angular fragments of Lydian stone. Whether this formation of nagelfluhe is superposed on tertiary limestone of coral, and whether the fragments of the Lydian stone come from secondary limestone analogous to that of Zacatecas and the Moro de Nueva Barcelona, are questions which I have not had leisure to investigate. The view from the Popa is extensive and varied, and the windings and rents of the coast give it a peculiar character. I was assured that sometimes from the windows of the convent and even in the open sea, before the fort of Boca Chica, the snowy tops of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta are discernible. The distance of the Horqueta to the Popa is seventy-eight nautical miles. This group of colossal mountains is most frequently wrapped in thick clouds: and it is most veiled at the season when the gales blow with violence. Although only forty-five miles distant from the coast, it is of little service as a signal to mariners who seek the port of Saint Marta. Hidalgo during the whole time of his operations near the shore could take only one observation of the Nevados.

A gloomy vegetation of cactus, Jatropha gossypifolia, croton and mimosa covers the barren declivity of Cerro de la Popa. In herbalizing in those wild spots, our guides showed us a thick bush of Acacia cornigera, which had become celebrated by a deplorable event. Of all the species of mimosa the acacia is that which is armed with the sharpest thorns; they are sometimes two inches long; and being hollow, serve for the habitation of ants of an extraordinary size. A woman, annoyed by the jealousy and well founded reproaches of her husband, conceived a project of the most barbarous vengeance. With the assistance of her lover she bound her husband with cords, and threw him, at night, into a bush of Mimosa cornigera. The more violently he struggled, the more the sharp woody thorns of the tree tore his skin. His cries were heard by persons who were passing, and he was found after several hours of suffering, covered with blood, and dreadfully stung by the ants. This crime is perhaps without example in the history of human turpitude: it indicates a violence of passion less assignable to the climate than to the barbarism of manners prevailing among the lower class of the people.

My most important occupation at Carthagena was the comparison of my observations with the astronomical positions fixed by the officers of the expedition of Fidalgo. In the year 1783 (under the ministry of M. Valdes) Don Josef Espinosa, Don Dionisio Galiano and Don Josef de Lanz proposed to the Spanish government a plan for taking a survey of the coast of America, in order to extend the atlas of Tofino to the western colonies. The plan was approved; but it was not till 1792 that an expedition was fitted out at Cadiz, and they were enabled to commence their scientific operations at the island of Trinidad.

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Part 1 of 3

CHAPTER 3.31. CUBA AND THE SLAVE TRADE.

I might enumerate among the causes of the lowering of the temperature at Cuba during the winter months, the great number of shoals with which the island is surrounded, and on which the heat is diminished several degrees of centesimal temperature. This diminished heat may be assigned to the molecules of water locally cooled, which go to the bottom; to the polar currents, which are borne toward the abyss of the tropical ocean, or to the mixture of the deep waters with those of the surface at the declivities of the banks. But the lowering of the temperature is partly compensated by the flood of hot water, the Gulf Stream, which runs along the north-west coast, and the swiftness of which is often diminished by the north and north-east winds. The chain of shoals which encircles the island and which appears on our maps like a penumbra, is fortunately broken on several points, and those interruptions afford free access to the shore. In the south-east part the proximity of the lofty primitive mountains renders the coast more precipitous. In that direction are situated the ports of Santiago de Cuba, Guantanamo, Baitiqueri and (in turning the Punta Maysi) Baracoa. The latter is the place most early peopled by Europeans. The entrance to the Old Channel, from Punta de Mulas, west-north-west of Baracoa, as far as the new settlement which has taken the name of Puerto de las Nuevitas del Principe, is alike free from shoals and breakers. Navigators find excellent anchorage a little to the east of Punta de Mulas, in the three rocks of Tanamo, Cabonico, and Nipe; and on the west of Punta de Mulas in the ports of Sama, Naranjo, del Padre and Nuevas Grandes. It is remarkable that near the latter port, almost in the same meridian where, on the southern side of the island, are situated the shoals of Buena Esperanza and of Las doce Leguas, stretching as far as the island of Pinos, we find the commencement of the uninterrupted series of the cayos of the Old Channel, extending to the length of ninety-four leagues, from Nuevitas to Punta Icacos. The Old Channel is narrowest opposite to Cayo Cruz and Cayo Romano; its breadth is scarcely more than five or six leagues. On this point, too, the Great Bank of Bahama takes its greatest development. The Cayos nearest the island of Cuba and those parts of the bank not covered with water (Long Island, Eleuthera) are, like Cuba, of a long and narrow shape. Were they only twenty or thirty feet higher, an island much larger than St. Domingo would appear at the surface of the ocean. The chain of breakers and cayos that bound the navigable part of the Old Channel towards the south leave between the channel and the coast of Cuba small basins without breakers, which communicate with several ports having good anchorage, such as Guanaja, Moron and Remedios.

Having passed through the Old Channel, or rather the Channel of San Nicolas, between Cruz del Padre and the bank of the Cayos de Sel, the lowest of which furnish springs of fresh water, we again find the coast, from Punta de Icacos to Cabanas, free from danger. It affords, in the interval, the anchorage of Matanzas, Puerto Escondido, the Havannah and Mariel. Further on, westward of Bahia Honda, the possession of which might well tempt a maritime enemy of Spain, the chain of shoals recommences* (* They are here called Bajos de Santa Isabel y de los Colorados.) and extends without interruption as far as Cape San Antonio. From that cape to Punta de Piedras and Bahia de Cortez, the coast is almost precipitous, and does not afford soundings at any distance; but between Punta de Piedras and Cabo Cruz almost the whole southern part of Cuba is surrounded with shoals of which the isle of Pinos is but a portion not covered with water. These shoals are distinguished on the west by the name of Gardens (Jardines y Jardinillos); and on the east, by the names Cayo Breton, Cayos de las doce Leguas, and Bancos de Buena Esperanza. On all this southern line the coast is exempt from danger with the exception of that part which lies between the strait of Cochinos and the mouth of the Rio Guaurabo. These seas are very difficult to navigate. I had the opportunity of determining the position of several points in latitude and longitude during the passage from Batabano to Trinidad of Cuba and to Carthagena. It would seem that the resistance of the currents of the highlands of the island of Pines, and the remarkable out-stretching of Cabo Cruz, have at once favoured the accumulation of sand, and the labours of the coralline polypes which inhabit calm and shallow water. Along this extent of the southern coast a length of 145 leagues, only one-seventh affords entirely free access; namely that part between Cayo de Piedras and Cayo Blanco, a little to the east of Puerto Casilda. There are found anchorages often frequented by small barks; for example, the Surgidero del Batabano, Bahia de Xagua, and Puerto Casilda, or Trinidad de Cuba. Beyond this latter port, towards the mouth of the Rio Cauto and Cabo Cruz (behind the Cayos de doce Leguas), the coast, covered with lagoons, is not very accessible, and is almost entirely desert.

At the island of Cuba, as heretofore in all the Spanish possessions in America, we must distinguish between the ecclesiastic, politico-military, and financial divisions. We will not add those of the judicial hierarchy which have created so much confusion amongst modern geographers, the island having but one Audiencia, residing since the year 1797 at Puerto Principe, whose jurisdiction extends from Baracoa to Cape San Antonio. The division into two bishoprics dates from 1788 when Pope Pius VI nominated the first bishop of the Havannah. The island of Cuba was formerly, with Louisiana and Florida, under the jurisdiction of the archbishop of San Domingo, and from the period of its discovery it had only one bishopric, founded in 1518, in the most western part at Baracoa by Pope Leo X. The translation of this bishopric to Santiago de Cuba, took place four years later; but the first bishop, Fray Juan de Ubite, arrived only in 1528. In the beginning of the nineteenth century (1804), Santiago de Cuba was made an archbishopric. The ecclesiastical limit between the diocese of the Havannah and Cuba passes in the meridian of Cayo Romano, nearly in the 80 3/4 degree of longitude west of Paris, between the Villa de Santo Espiritu and the city of Puerto Principe. The island, with relation to its political and military government, is divided into two goviernos, depending on the same capitan-general. The govierno of the Havannah comprehends, besides the capital, the district of the Quatro Villas (Trinidad, Santo Espiritu, Villa Clara and San Juan de los Remedios) and the district of Puerto Principe. The Capitan-general y Gobernador of the Havannah has the privilege of appointing a lieutenant in Puerto Principe (Teniente Gobernador), as also at Trinidad and Nueva Filipina. The territorial jurisdiction of the capitan-general extends, as the jurisdiction of a corregidor, to eight pueblos de Ayuntamiento (the ciudades of Matanzas, Jaruco, San Felipe y Santiago, Santa Maria del Rosario; the villas of Guanabacoa, Santiago de las Vegas, Guines, and San Antonio de los Banos). The govierno of Cuba comprehends Santiago de Cuba, Baracoa, Holguin and Bayamo. The present limits of the goviernos are not the same as those of the bishoprics. The district of Puerto Principe, with its seven parishes, for instance, belonged till 1814 to the govierno of the Havannah and the archbishopric of Cuba. In the enumerations of 1817 and 1820 we find Puerto Principe joined with Baracoa and Bayamo, in the jurisdiction of Cuba. It remains for me to speak of a third division altogether financial. By the cedula of the 23rd March, 1812, the island was divided into three Intendencias or Provincias; those of the Havannah, Puerto Principe and Santiago de Cuba, of which the respective length from east to west is about ninety, seventy and sixty-five sea-leagues. The intendant of the Havannah retains the prerogatives of Superintendente general subdelegado de Real Hacienda de la Isla de Cuba. According to this division, the Provincia de Cuba comprehends Santiago de Cuba, Baracoa, Holguin, Bayamo, Gibara, Manzanillo, Jiguani, Cobre, and Tiguaros; the Provincia de Puerto Principe, the town of that name, Nuevitas, Jagua, Santo Espiritu, San Juan de los Remedios, Villa de Santa Clara and Trinidad. The most westerly intendencia, or Provincia de la Havannah, occupies all that part situated west of the Quatro Villas, of which the intendant of the capital has lost the financial administration. When the cultivation of the land shall be more uniformly advanced, the division of the island into five departments, namely: the vuelta de abaxo (from Cape San Antonio to the fine village of Guanajay and Mariel), the Havannah (from Mariel to Alvarez), the Quintas Villas (from Alvarez to Moron), Puerto Principe (from Moron to Rio Cauto), and Cuba (from Rio Cauto to Punta Maysi), will perhaps appear the most fit, and most consistent with the historical remembrances of the early times of the Conquest.

My map of the island of Cuba, however imperfect it may be for the interior, is yet the only one on which are marked the thirteen ciudades; and also seven villas, which are included in the divisions I have just enumerated. The boundary between the two bishoprics (linea divisoria de los dos obispados de la Havana y de Santiago de Cuba) extends from the mouth of the small river of Santa Maria (longitude 80 degrees 49 minutes), on the southern coast, by the parish of San Eugenio de la Palma, and by the haciendas of Santa Anna, Dos Hermanos, Copey, and Cienega, to La Punta de Judas (longitude 80 degrees 46 minutes) on the northern coast opposite Cayo Romano. During the regime of the Spanish Cortes it was agreed that this ecclesiastical limit should be also that of the two Deputaciones provinciales of the Havannah and of Santiago. (Guia Constitucional de la isla de Cuba, 1822 page 79). The diocese of the Havannah comprehends forty, and that of Cuba twenty-two, parishes. Having been established at a time when the greater part of the island was occupied by farms of cattle (haciendas de ganado), these parishes are of too great extent, and little adapted to the requirements of present civilization. The bishopric of Santiago de Cuba contains the five cities of Baracoa, Cuba, Holguin, Guiza, Puerto Principe and the Villa of Bayamo. In the bishopric of San Cristoval de la Havannah are included the eight cities of the Havannah, namely: Santa Maria del Rosario, San Antonio Abad or de los Banos, San Felipe y Santiago del Bejucal, Matanzas, Jaruco, La Paz and Trinidad, and the six villas of Guanabacoa, namely: Santiago de las Vegas or Compostela, Santa Clara, San Juan de los Remedios, Santo Espiritu and S. Julian de los Guines. The territorial division most in favour among the inhabitants of the Havannah, is that of vuelta de arriba and de abaxo, east and west of the meridian of the Havannah. The first governor of the island who took the title of Captain-general (1601) was Don Pedro Valdes. Before him there were sixteen other governors, of whom the series begins with the famous Poblador and Conquistador, Diego Velasquez, native of Cuellar, who was appointed by Columbus in 1511.

In the island of Cuba free men compose 0.64 of the whole population; and in the English islands, scarcely 0.19. In the whole archipelago of the West Indies the copper-coloured men (blacks and mulattos, free and slaves) form a mass of 2,360,000, or 0.83 of the total population. If the legislation of the West Indies and the state of the men of colour do not shortly undergo a salutary change; if the legislation continue to employ itself in discussion instead of action, the political preponderance will pass into the hands of those who have strength to labour, will to be free, and courage to endure long privations. This catastrophe will ensue as a necessary consequence of circumstances, without the intervention of the free blacks of Hayti, and without their abandoning the system of insulation which they have hitherto followed. Who can venture to predict the influence which may be exercised on the politics of the New World by an African Confederation of the free states of the West Indies, situated between Columbia, North America, and Guatimala? The fear of this event may act more powerfully on the minds of many, than the principles of humanity and justice; but in every island the whites believe that their power is not to be shaken. All simultaneous action on the part of the blacks appears to them impossible; and every change, every concession granted to the slave population, is regarded as a sign of weakness. The horrible catastrophe of San Domingo is declared to have been only the effect of the incapacity of its government. Such are the illusions which prevail amidst the great mass of the planters of the West Indies, and which are alike opposed to an amelioration of the condition of the blacks in Georgia and in the Carolinas. The island of Cuba, more than any other of the West India Islands, might escape the common wreck. That island contains 455,000 free men and 160,000 slaves: and there, by prudent and humane measures, the gradual abolition of slavery might be brought about. Let us not forget that since San Domingo has become free there are in the whole archipelago of the West Indies more free negroes and mulattos than slaves. The whites, and above all, the free men, whose cause it would be easy to link with that of the whites, take a very rapid numerical increase at Cuba. The slaves would have diminished, since 1820, with great rapidity, but for the fraudulent continuation of the slave-trade. If, by the progress of human civilization, and the firm resolution of the new states of free America, this infamous traffic should cease altogether, the diminution of the slave population would become more considerable for some time, on account of the disproportion existing between the two sexes, and the continuance of emancipation. It would cease only when the relation between the deaths and births of slaves should be such that even the effects of enfranchisement would be counterbalanced. The whites and free men now form two-thirds of the whole population of the island, and this increase marks in some degree the diminution of the slaves. Among the latter, the women are to the men (exclusive of the mulatto slaves), scarcely in the proportion of 1 : 4, in the sugar-cane plantations; in the whole island, as 1 : 1.7; and in the towns and farina where the negro slaves serve as domestics, or work by the day on their own account as well as that of their masters, the proportion is as 1 : 1.4; even (for instance at the Havannah),* as 1 : 1.2. (* It appears probable that at the end of 1825, of the total population of men of colour (mulattos and negroes, free and slaves), there were nearly 160,000 in the towns, and 230,000 in the fields. In 1811 the Consulado, in a statement presented to the Cortes of Spain, computed at 141,000, the number of men of colour in the towns, and 185,000 in the fields. Documentes sobre los Negros page 121.) This great accumulation of mulattos, free negros and slaves in the towns is a characteristic feature in the island of Cuba.) The developments that follow will show that these proportions are founded on numerical statements which may be regarded as the limit-numbers of the maximum.

The prognostics which are hazarded respecting the diminution of the total population of the island, at the period when the slave-trade shall be really abolished, and not merely according to the laws, as since 1820, respecting the impossibility of continuing the cultivation of sugar on a large scale, and respecting the approaching time when the agricultural industry of Cuba shall be restrained to plantations of coffee and tobacco, and the breeding of cattle, are founded on arguments which do not appear to me to be perfectly just. Instead of indulging in gloomy presages the planters would do well to wait till the government shall have procured positive statistical statements. The spirit in which even very old enumerations were made, for instance that of 1775, by the distinction of age, sex, race, and state of civil liberty, deserves high commendation. Nothing but the means of execution were wanting. It was felt that the inhabitants were powerfully interested in knowing partially the occupations of the blacks, and their numerical distribution in the sugar-settlements, farms and towns. To remedy evil, to avoid public danger, to console the misfortunes of a suffering race, who are feared more than is acknowledged, the wound must be probed; for in the social body, when governed by intelligence, there is found, as in organic bodies, a repairing force, which may be opposed to the most inveterate evils.

In the year 1811 the municipality and the Tribunal of Commerce of the Havannah computed the total population of the island of Cuba to be 600,000, including 326,000 people of colour, free or slaves, mulattos or blacks. At that time, nearly three-fifths of the people of colour resided in the jurisdiction of the Havannah, from Cape Saint Antonio to Alvarez. In this part it appears that the towns contained as many mulattos and free negroes as slaves, but that the coloured population of the towns was to that of the fields as two to three. In the eastern part of the island, on the contrary, from Alvarez to Santiago de Cuba and Cape Maysi, the men of colour inhabiting the towns nearly equalled in number those scattered in the farms. From 1811 till the end of 1825, the island of Cuba has received along the whole extent of its coast, by lawful and unlawful means, 185,000 African blacks, of whom the custom-house of the Havannah, only, registered from 1811 to 1820, about 116,000. This newly introduced mass has no doubt been spread more in the country than in the towns; it must have changed the relations which persons well informed of the localities had established in 1811, between the eastern and western parts of the island, between the towns and the fields. The negro slaves have much augmented in the eastern plantations; but the fact that, notwithstanding the importation of 185,000 bozal negroes, the mass of men of colour, free and slaves, has not augmented, from 1811 to 1825, more than 64,000, or one-fifth, shows that the changes in the relation of partial distribution are restrained within narrower limits than one would at first be inclined to admit.

The proportions of the castes with respect to each other will remain a political problem of high importance till such time as a wise legislation shall have succeeded in calming inveterate animosities and in granting equality of rights to the oppressed classes. In 1811, the number of whites in the island of Cuba exceeded that of the slaves by 62,000, whilst it nearly equalled the number of the people of colour, both free and slaves. The whites, who in the French and English islands formed at the same period nine-hundredths of the total population, amounted in the island of Cuba to forty-five hundredths. The free men of colour amounted to nineteen hundredths, that is, double the number of those in Jamaica and Martinique. The numbers given in the enumeration of 1817, modified by the Deputacion Provincial, being only 115,700 freedmen and 225,300 slaves, the comparison proves, first, that the freedmen have been estimated with little precision either in 1811 or in 1817; and, secondly, that the mortality of the negroes is so great, that notwithstanding the introduction of more than 67,700 African negroes registered at the custom-house, there were only 13,300 more slaves in 1817 than in 1811.

In 1817 a new enumeration was substituted for the approximative estimates attempted in 1811. From the census of 1817 it appears that the total population of the island of Cuba amounted to 572,363. The number of whites was 257,380; of free men of colour, 115,691, and of slaves 199,292.

In no part of the world where slavery prevails is emancipation so frequent as in the island of Cuba. The Spanish legislature favours liberty, instead of opposing it, like the English and French legislatures. The right of every slave to choose his own master, or set himself free, if he can pay the purchase-money, the religious feeling which disposes many masters in easy circumstances to liberate some of their slaves, the habit of keeping a multitude of blacks for domestic service, the attachments which arise from this intercourse with the whites, the facility with which slaves who are mechanics accumulate money, and pay their masters a certain sum daily, in order to work on their own account—such are the principal causes which in the towns convert so many slaves into free men of colour. I might add the chances of the lottery, and games of hazard, but that too much confidence in those means often produces the most fatal effects.

The primitive population of the West India Islands having entirely disappeared (the Zambo Caribs, a mixture of natives and negroes, having been transported in 1796, from St. Vincent to the island of Ratan), the present population of the islands (2,850,000) must be considered as composed of European and African blood. The negroes of pure race form nearly two-thirds; the whites one-fifth; and the mixed race one-seventh. In the Spanish colonies of the continent, we find the descendants of the Indians who disappear among the mestizos and zambos, a mixture of Indians with whites and negroes. The archipelago of the West Indies suggests no such consolatory idea. The state of society was there such, at the beginning of the sixteenth century, that, with some rare exceptions, the new planters paid as little attention to the natives as the English now do in Canada. The Indians of Cuba have disappeared like the Guanches of the Canaries, although at Guanabacoa and Teneriffe false pretensions were renewed forty years ago, by several families, who obtained small pensions from the government on pretext of having in their veins some drops of Indian or Guanche blood. It is impossible now to form an accurate judgment of the population of Cuba or Hayti in the time of Columbus. How can we admit, with some, that the island of Cuba, at its conquest in 1511, had a million of inhabitants, and that there remained of that million, in 1517, only 14,000! The statistic statements in the writings of the bishop of Chiapa are full of contradictions. It is related that the Dominican monk, Fray Luys Bertram, who was persecuted* by the encomenderos, as the Methodists now are by some English planters, predicted that the 200,000 Indians which Cuba contained, would perish the victims of the cruelty of Europeans. (* See the curious revelations in Juan de Marieta, Hist. de todos los Santos de Espana libro 7 page 174.) If this be true, we may at least conclude that the native race was far from being extinct between the years 1555 and 1569; but according to Gomara (such is the confusion among the historians of those times) there were no longer any Indians on the island of Cuba in 1553. To form an idea of the vagueness of the estimates made by the first Spanish travellers, at a period when the population of no province of the peninsula was ascertained, we have but to recollect that the number of inhabitants which Captain Cook and other navigators assigned to Otaheite and the Sandwich Islands, at a time when statistics furnished the most exact comparisons, varied from one to five. We may conceive that the island of Cuba, surrounded with coasts adapted for fishing, might, from the great fertility of its soil, afford sustenance for several millions of those Indians who have no desire for animal food, and who cultivate maize, manioc, and other nourishing roots; but had there been that amount of population, would it not have been manifest by a more advanced degree of civilization than the narrative of Columbus describes? Would the people of Cuba have remained more backward in civilization than the inhabitants of the Lucayes Islands? Whatever activity may be attributed to causes of destruction, such as the tyranny of the conquistadores, the faults of governors, the too severe labours of the gold-washings, the small-pox and the frequency of suicides,* it would be difficult to conceive how in thirty or forty years three or four hundred thousand Indians could entirely disappear. (* The rage of hanging themselves by whole families, in huts and caverns, as related by Garcilasso, was no doubt the effect of despair; yet instead of lamenting the barbarism of the sixteenth century, it was attempted to exculpate the conquistadores, by attributing the disappearance of the natives to their taste for suicide. See Patriota tome 2 page 50. Numerous sophisms of this kind are found in a work published by M. Nuix on the humanity of the Spaniards in the conquest of America. This work is entitled Reflexiones imparciales sobre la humanidad de los Epanoles contra los pretendidos filosofos y politicos, para illustrar las historias de Raynal y Robertson; escrito en Italiano por el Abate Don Juan Nuix, y traducido al castellano par Don Pedro Varela y Ulloa, del Consejo de S.M. 1752. [Impartial reflections on the humanity of the Spaniards, intended to controvert pretended philosophers and politicians, and to illustrate the histories of Raynal and Robertson; written in Italian by the Abate Don Juan Nuix and translated into Castilian by Don Pedro Varela y Ulloa, member of His Majesty's Council.] The author, who calls the expulsion of the Moors under Philip III a meritorious and religious act, terminates his work by congratulating the Indians of America "on having fallen into the hands of the Spaniards, whose conduct has been at all times the most humane, and their government the wisest." Several pages of this book recall the salutary rigour of the Dragonades; and that odious passage, in which a man distinguished for his talents and his private virtues, the Count de Maistre (Soirees de St. Petersbourg tome 2 page 121) justifies the Inquisition of Portugal "which he observes has only caused some drops of guilty blood to flow." To what sophisms must they have recourse, who would defend religion, national honour or the stability of governments, by exculpating all that is offensive to humanity in the actions of the clergy, the people, or kings! It is vain to seek to destroy the power most firmly established on earth, namely, the testimony of history.) The war with the Cacique Hatuey was short and was confined to the most eastern part of the island. Few complaints arose against the administration of the two first Spanish governors, Diego Velasquez and Pedro de Barba. The oppression of the natives dates from the arrival of the cruel Hernando de Soto about the year 1539. Supposing, with Gomara, that fifteen years later, under the government of Diego de Majariegos (1554 to 1564), there were no longer any Indians in Cuba, we must necessarily admit that considerable remains of that people saved themselves by means of canoes in Florida, believing, according to ancient traditions, that they were returning to the country of their ancestors. The mortality of the negro slaves, observed in our days in the West Indies, can alone throw some light on these numerous contradictions. To Columbus and Velasquez the island of Cuba must have appeared well peopled,* if, for instance, it contained as many inhabitants as were found there by the English in 1762. (* Columbus relates that the island of Hayti was sometimes attacked by a race of black men (gente negra), who lived more to the south or south-west. He hoped to visit them in his third voyage because those black men possessed a metal of which the admiral had procured some pieces in his second voyage. These pieces were sent to Spain and found to be composed of 0.63 of gold, 0.14 of silver and 0.19 of copper. In fact, Balboa discovered this black tribe in the Isthmus of Darien. "That conquistador," says Gomara, "entered the province of Quareca: he found no gold, but some blacks, who were slaves of the lord of the place. He asked this lord whence he had received them; who replied, that men of that colour lived near the place, with whom they were constantly at war…These negroes," adds Gomara, "exactly resemble those of Guinea; and no others have since been seen in America (en las Indios yo pienso que no se han visto negros despues.") The passage is very remarkable. Hypotheses were formed in the sixteenth century, as now; and Petrus Martyr imagined that these men seen by Balboa (the Quarecas), were Ethiopian blacks who, as pirates, infested the seas, and had been shipwrecked on the coast of America. But the negroes of Soudan are not pirates; and it is easier to conceive that Esquimaux, in their boats of skins, may have gone to Europe, than the Africans to Darien. Those learned speculators who believe in a mixture of the Polynesians with the Americans rather consider the Quarecas as of the race of Papuans, similar to the negritos of the Philippines. Tropical migrations from west to east, from the most western part of Polynesia to the Isthmus of Darien, present great difficulties, although the winds blow during whole weeks from the west. Above all, it is essential to know whether the Quarecas were really like the negroes of Soudan, as Gomara asserts, or whether they were only a race of very dark Indians (with smooth and glossy hair), who from time to time, before 1492, infested the coasts of the island of Hayti which has become in our days the domain of Ethiopians.) The first travellers were easily deceived by the crowds which the appearance of European vessels brought together on some points of the coast. Now, the island of Cuba, with the same ciudades and villas which it possesses at present, had not in 1762 more than 200,000 inhabitants; and yet, among a people treated like slaves, exposed to the violence and brutality of their masters, to excess of labour, want of nourishment, and the ravages of the small-pox—forty-two years would not suffice to obliterate all but the remembrance of their misfortunes on the earth. In several of the Lesser Antilles the population diminishes under English domination five and six per cent annually; at Cuba, more than eight per cent; but the annihilation of 200,000 in forty-two years supposes an annual loss of twenty-six per cent, a loss scarcely credible, although we may suppose that the mortality of the natives of Cuba was much greater than that of negroes bought at a very high price.

In studying the history of the island we observe that the movement of colonization has been from east to west; and that here, as everywhere in the Spanish colonies, the places first peopled are now the most desert. The first establishment of the whites was in 1511 when, according to the orders of Don Diego Columbus, together with the conquistador and poblador Velasquez, he landed at Puerto de Palmas, near Cape Maysi, then called Alfa y Omega, and subdued the cacique Hatuey who, an emigrant and fugitive from Hayti, had withdrawn to the eastern part of the island of Cuba, and had become the chief of a confederation of petty native princes. The building of the town of Baracoa was begun in 1512; and later, Puerto Principe, Trinidad, the Villa de Santo Espiritu, Santiago de Cuba (1514), San Salvador de Bayamo, and San Cristoval de la Havana. This last town was originally founded in 1515 on the southern coast of the island, in the Partido of Guines, and transferred, four years later, to Puerto de Carenas, the position of which at the entrance of the two channels of Bahama (el Viejo y de Nuevo) appears to be much more favourable to commerce than the coast on the south-west of Batabano.* (* A tree is still shown at the Havannah (at Puerto de Carenas) under the shade of which the Spaniards celebrated their first mass. The island, now called officially The ever-faithful island of Cuba, was after its discovery named successively Juana Fernandina, Isla de Santiago, and Isla del Ave Maria. Its arms date from the year 1516.) The progress of civilization since the sixteenth century has had a powerful influence on the relations of the castes with each other; these relations vary in the districts which contain only farms for cattle, and in those where the soil has been long cleared; in the sea-ports and inland towns, in the spots where colonial produce is cultivated, and in such as produce maize, vegetables and forage.

Until the latter part of the eighteenth century the number of female slaves in the sugar plantations of Cuba was extremely limited; and what may appear surprising is that a prejudice, founded on religious scruples, opposed the introduction of women, whose price at the Havannah was generally one-third less than that of men. The slaves were forced to celibacy on the pretext of avoiding moral disorder. The Jesuits and the Bethlemite monks alone renounced that fatal prejudice, and encouraged negresses in their plantations. If the census, no doubt imperfect, of 1775, yielded 15,562 female, and 29,366 male slaves, we must not forget that that enumeration comprehended the totality of the island, and that the sugar plantations occupy even now but a quarter of the slave population. After the year 1795, the Consulado of the Havannah began to be seriously occupied with the project of rendering the increase of the slave population more independent of the variations of the slave-trade. Don Francisco Arango, whose views were ever characterized by wisdom, proposed a tax on the plantations in which the number of slaves was not comprised of one-third females. He also proposed a tax of six piastres on every negro brought into the island, and from which the women (negras bozales) should be exempt. These measures were not adopted because the colonial assembly refused to employ coercive means; but a desire to promote marriages and to improve the condition of the children of slaves has existed since that period, when a cedula real (of the 22nd April, 1804) recommended those objects "to the conscience and humanity of the planters."

The first introduction of negroes into the eastern part of the island of Cuba took place in 1521 and their number did not exceed 300. The Spaniards were then much less eager for slaves than the Portuguese; for, in 1539, there was a sale of 12,000 negroes at Lisbon, as in our days (to the eternal shame of Christian Europe) the trade in Greek slaves is carried on at Constantinople and Smyrna. In the sixteenth century the slave-trade was not free in Spain; the privilege of trading, which was granted by the Court, was purchased in 1586, for all Spanish America, by Gaspar de Peralta; in 1595, by Gomez Reynel; and in 1615, by Antonio Rodriguez de Elvas. The total importation then amounted to only 3500 negroes annually; and the inhabitants of Cuba, who were wholly engaged in rearing cattle, scarcely received any. During the war of succession, French ships were accustomed to stop at the Havannah and to exchange slaves for tobacco. The Asiento treaty with the English in some degree augmented the introduction of negroes; yet in 1763, although the taking of the Havannah and the sojourn of strangers gave rise to new wants, the number of slaves in the jurisdiction of the Havannah did not amount to 25,000; and in the whole island, not to 32,000. The total number of African negroes imported from 1521 to 1763 was probably 60,000; their descendants survive among the free mulattos, who inhabit for the most part the eastern side of the island. From the year 1763 to 1790, when the negro-trade was declared free, the Havannah received 24,875 (by the Compania de Tobacos 4957, from 1763 to 1766; by the contract of the Marquess de Casa Enrile, 14,132, from 1773 to 1779; by the contract of Baker and Dawson, 5786, from 1786 to 1789). If we estimate the introduction of slaves in the eastern part of the island during those twenty-seven years (1763 to 1790) at 6000, we find from the discovery of the island of Cuba, or rather from 1521 to 1790, a total of 90,875. We shall soon see that by the ever-increasing activity of the slave-trade the fifteen years that followed 1790 furnished more slaves than the two centuries and a half which preceded the period of the free trade. That activity was redoubled when it was stipulated between England and Spain that the slave-trade should be prohibited north of the equator, from November 22nd, 1817, and entirely abolished on the 30th May, 1820. The King of Spain accepted from England (which posterity will one day scarcely believe) a sum of 400,000 pounds sterling, as a compensation for the loss which might result from the cessation of that barbarous commerce.

Jamaica received from Africa in the space of three hundred years 850,000 blacks; or, to fix on a more certain estimate, in one hundred and eight years (from 1700 to 1808) nearly 677,000; and yet that island does not now possess 380,000 blacks, free mulattos and slaves. The island of Cuba furnishes a more consoling result; it has 130,000 free men of colour, whilst Jamaica, on a total population half as great, contains only 35,000.

On comparing the island of Cuba with Jamaica, the result of the comparison seems to be in favour of the Spanish legislation, and the morals of the inhabitants of Cuba. These comparisons demonstrate a state of things in the latter island more favorable to the physical preservation, and to the liberation of the blacks; but what a melancholy spectacle is that of Christian and civilized nations, discussing which of them has caused the fewest Africans to perish during the interval of three centuries, by reducing them to slavery! Much cannot be said in commendation of the treatment of the blacks in the southern parts of the United States; but there are degrees in the sufferings of the human species. The slave who has a hut and a family is less miserable than he who is purchased as if he formed part of a flock. The greater the number of slaves established with their families in dwellings which they believe to be their own property, the more rapidly will their numbers increase.

The annual increase of the last ten years in the United States (without counting the manumission of 100,000), was twenty-six on a thousand, which produces a doubling in twenty-seven years. Now, if the slaves at Jamaica and Cuba had multiplied in the same proportion, those two islands (the former since 1795, and the latter since 1800) would possess almost their present population, without 400,000 blacks having been dragged from the coast of Africa, to Port-Royal and the Havannah.

The mortality of the negroes is very different in the island of Cuba, as in all the West Indies, according to the nature of their treatment, the humanity of masters and overseers, and the number of negresses who can attend to the sick. There are plantations in which fifteen to eighteen per cent perish annually. I have heard it coolly discussed whether it were better for the proprietor not to subject the slaves to excessive labour and consequently to replace them less frequently, or to draw all the advantage possible from them in a few years, and replace them oftener by the acquisition of bozal negroes. Such are the reasonings of cupidity when man employs man as a beast of burden! It would be unjust to entertain a doubt that within fifteen years negro mortality has greatly diminished in the island of Cuba. Several proprietors have made laudable efforts to improve the plantation system.

It has been remarked how much the population of the island of Cuba is susceptible of being augmented in the lapse of ages. As the native of a northern country, little favoured by nature, I may observe that the Mark of Brandebourg, for the most part sandy, contains, under an administration favourable to the progress of agricultural industry, on a surface only one-third of that of Cuba, a population nearly double. The extreme inequality in the distribution of the population, the want of inhabitants on a great part of the coast, and its immense development, render the military defence of the whole island impossible: neither the landing of an enemy nor illicit trade can be prevented. The Havannah is well defended, and its works rival those of the most important fortified towns of Europe; the Torreones, and the fortifications of Cogimar, Jaruco, Matanzas, Mariel, Bahia Honda, Batabano, Xagua and Trinidad might resist for a considerable time the assaults of an enemy; but on the other hand two-thirds of the island are almost without defence, and could scarcely be protected by the best gun-boats.

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Part 2 of 3

Intellectual cultivation is almost entirely limited to the whites, and is as unequally distributed as the population. The best society of the Havannah may be compared for easy and polished manners with the society of Cadiz and with that of the richest commercial towns of Europe; but on quitting the capital, or the neighbouring plantations, which are inhabited by rich proprietors, a striking contrast to this state of partial and local civilization is manifest, in the simplicity of manners prevailing in the insulated farms and small towns. The Havaneros or natives of the Havannah were the first among the rich inhabitants of the Spanish colonies who visited Spain, France and Italy; and at the Havannah the people were always well informed of the politics of Europe. This knowledge of events, this prescience of future chances, have powerfully aided the inhabitants of Cuba to free themselves from some of the burthens which check the development of colonial prosperity. In the interval between the peace of Versailles and the beginning of the revolution of San Domingo, the Havannah appeared to be ten times nearer to Spain than to Mexico, Caracas and New Grenada. Fifteen years later, at the period of my visit to the colonies, this apparent inequality of distance had considerably diminished; now, when the independence of the continental colonies, the importation of foreign manufactures and the financial wants of the new states have multiplied the intercourse between Europe and America; when the passage is shortened by improvements in navigation; when the Columbians, the Mexicans and the inhabitants of Guatimala rival each other in visiting Europe; the ancient Spanish colonies—those at least that are bathed by the Atlantic—seem alike to have drawn nearer to the continent. Such are the changes which a few years have produced, and which are proceeding with increasing rapidity. They are the effects of knowledge and of long-restrained activity; and they render less striking the contrast in manners and civilization which I observed at the beginning of the century, at Caracas, Bogota, Quito, Lima, Mexico and the Havannah. The influences of the Basque, Catalanian, Galician and Andalusian origin become every day more imperceptible.

The island of Cuba does not possess those great and magnificent establishments the foundation of which is of very remote date in Mexico; but the Havannah can boast of institutions which the patriotism of the inhabitants, animated by a happy rivalry between the different centres of American civilization, will know how to extend and improve whenever political circumstances and confidence in the preservation of internal tranquillity may permit. The Patriotic Society of the Havannah (established in 1793); those of Santo Espiritu, Puerto Principe, and Trinidad, which depend on it; the university, with its chairs of theology, jurisprudence, medicine and mathematics, established since 1728, in the convent of the Padres Predicedores;* (* The clergy of the island of Cuba is neither numerous nor rich, if we except the Bishop of the Havannah and the Archbishop of Cuba, the former of whom has 110,000 piastres, and the latter 40,000 piastres per annum. The canons have 3000 piastres. The number of ecclesiastics does not exceed 1100, according to the official enumeration in my possession.) the chair of political economy, founded in 1818; that of agricultural botany; the museum and the school of descriptive anatomy, due to the enlightened zeal of Don Alexander Ramirez; the public library, the free school of drawing and painting; the national school; the Lancastrian schools, and the botanic garden, are institutions partly new, and partly old. Some stand in need of progressive amelioration, others require a total reform to place them in harmony with the spirit of the age and the wants of society.

AGRICULTURE.

When the Spaniards began their settlements in the islands and on the continent of America those productions of the soil chiefly cultivated were, as in Europe, the plants that serve to nourish man. This primitive stage of the agricultural life of nations has been preserved till the present time in Mexico, in Peru, in the cold and temperate regions of Cundinamarca, in short, wherever the domination of the whites comprehends a vast extent of territory. The alimentary plants, bananas, manioc, maize, the cereals of Europe, potatoes and quinoa, have continued to be, at different heights above the level of the sea, the basis of continental agriculture within the tropics. Indigo, cotton, coffee and sugar-cane appear in those regions only in intercalated groups. Cuba and the other islands of the archipelago of the Antilles presented during the space of two centuries and a half a uniform aspect: the same plants were cultivated which had nourished the half-wild natives and the vast savannahs of the great islands were peopled with numerous herds of cattle. Piedro de Atienza planted the first sugar-canes in Saint Domingo about the year 1520; and cylindrical presses, moved by water-wheels, were constructed.* (* On the trapiches or molinos de agua of the sixteenth century see Oviedo, Hist. nat. des Ind. lib. 4 cap. 8.) But the island of Cuba participated little in these efforts of rising industry; and what is very remarkable, in 1553, the historians of the Conquest* mention no exportation of sugar except that of Mexican sugar for Spain and Peru. (* Lopez de Gomara, Conquista de Mexico (Medina del Campo 1353) fol. 129.) Far from throwing into commerce what we now call colonial produce, the Havannah, till the eighteenth century, exported only skins and leather. The rearing of cattle was succeeded by the cultivation of tobacco and the rearing of bees, of which the first hives (colmenares) were brought from the Floridas. Wax and tobacco soon became more important objects of commerce than leather, but were shortly superseded in their turn by the sugar-cane and coffee. The cultivation of these productions did not exclude more ancient cultivation; and, in the different phases of agricultural industry, notwithstanding the general tendency to make the coffee plantations predominate, the sugar-houses furnish the greatest amount in the annual profits. The exportation of tobacco, coffee, sugar and wax, by lawful and illicit means, amounts to fourteen millions of piastres, according to the actual price of those articles.

Three qualities of sugar are distinguished in the island of Cuba, according to the degree of purity attained by refining (grados de purga). In every loaf or reversed cone the upper part yields the white sugar; the middle part the yellow sugar, or quebrado; and the lower part, or point of the cone, the cucurucho. All the sugar of Cuba is consequently refined; a very small quantity is introduced of coarse or muscovado sugar (by corruption, azucar mascabado). The forms being of a different size, the loaves (panes) differ also in weight. They generally weigh an arroba after refining. The refiners (maestros de azucar) endeavour to make every loaf of sugar yield five-ninths of white, three-ninths of quebrado, and one-ninth of cucurucho. The price of white sugar is higher when sold alone than in the sale called surtido, in which three-fifths of white sugar and two-fifths of quebrado are combined in the same lot. In the latter case the difference of the price is generally four reals (reales de plata); in the former, it rises to six or seven reals. The revolution of Saint Domingo, the prohibitions dictated by the Continental System of Napoleon, the enormous consumption of sugar in England and the United States, the progress of cultivation in Cuba, Brazil, Demerara, the Mauritius and Java, have occasioned great fluctuations of price. In an interval of twelve years it was from three to seven reals in 1807, and from twenty-four to twenty-eight reals in 1818, which proves fluctuations in the relation of one to five.

During my stay in the plains of Guines, in 1804, I endeavoured to obtain some accurate information respecting the statistics of the making of cane-sugar. A great yngenio producing from 32,000 to 40,000 arrobas of sugar is generally fifty caballerias,* or 650 hectares in extent, of which the half (less than one-tenth of a square sea league) is allotted to sugar-making properly so called (canaveral) and the other half for alimentary plants and pasturage (potrero). (* The agrarian measure, called caballeria, is eighteen cordels, (each cordel includes twenty-four varas) or 432 square varas; consequently, as 1 vara = 0.835m., according to Rodriguez, a caballeria is 186,624 square varas, or 130,118 square metres, or thirty-two and two-tenths English acres.) The price of land varies, naturally, according to the quality of the soil and the proximity of the ports of the Havannah, Matanzas and Mariel. In a circuit of twenty-five leagues round the Havannah the caballeria may be estimated at two or three thousand piastres. For a produce* of 32,000 arrobas (or 2000 cases of sugar) the yngenio must have at least three hundred negroes. (* There are very few plantations in the whole island of Cuba capable of furnishing 40,000 arrobas; among these few are the yngenio of Rio Blanco, or of the Marquess del Arca, and those belonging to Don Rafael Ofarrel and Dona Felicia Jaurregui. Sugar-houses are thought to be very considerable that yield 2000 cases annually, or 32,000 arrobas (nearly 368,000 kilogrammes.) In the French colonies it is generally computed that the third or fourth part only of the land is allotted for the plantation of food (bananas, ignames and batates); in the Spanish colonies a greater surface is lost in pasturage; this is the natural consequence of the old habits of the haciendas de ganado.) An adult and acclimated slave is worth from four hundred and fifty to five hundred piastres; a bozal negro, adult, not acclimated, three hundred and seventy to four hundred piastres. It is probable that a negro costs annually, in nourishment, clothing and medicine, forty-five to fifty piastres; consequently, with the interest of the capital, and deducting the holidays, more than twenty-two sous per day. The slaves are fed with tasajo (meat dried in the sun) of Buenos Ayres and Caracas; salt-fish (bacalao) when the tasajo is too dear; and vegetables (viandas) such as pumpkins, munatos, batatas, and maize. An arroba of tasajo was worth ten to twelve reals at Guines in 1804; and from fourteen to sixteen in 1825. An yngenio, such as we here suppose (with a produce of 32,000 to 40,000 arrobas), requires, first, three machines with cylinders put in motion by oxen (trapiches) or two water-wheels; second, according to the old Spanish method, which, by a slow fire causes a great consumption of wood, eighteen cauldrons (piezas); according to the first method of reverberation (introduced since the year 1801 by Mr. Bailli of Saint Domingo under the auspices of Don Nicolas Calvo) three clarificadoras, three peilas and two traines de tachos (each train has three piezas), in all twelve fondos. It is commonly asserted that three arrobas of refined sugar yield one barrel of miel, and that the molasses are sufficient for the expenses of the plantation: this is especially the case where they produce brandy in abundance. Thirty-two thousand arrobas of sugar yield 15,000 bariles de miel (at two arrobas) of which five hundred pipas de aguardiente de cana are made, at twenty-five piastres.

In establishing an yngenio capable of furnishing two thousand caxas yearly, a capitalist would draw, according to the old Spanish method, and at the present price of sugar, an interest of six and one-sixth per cent; an interest no way considerable for an establishment not merely agricultural, and of which the expense remains the same, although the produce sometimes diminishes more than a third. It is very rarely that one of those great yngenios can make 32,000 cases of sugar during several successive years. It cannot therefore be matter of surprise that when the price of sugar in the island of Cuba has been very low (four or five piastres the quintal), the cultivation of rice has been preferred to that of the sugar-cane. The profit of the old landowners (haciendados) consists, first, in the circumstance that the expenses of the settlement were much less twenty or thirty years ago, when a caballeria of good land cost only 1200 or 1600 piastres, instead of 2500 to 3000; and the adult negro 300 piastres, instead of 450 to 500; second, in the balance of the very low and the very high prices of sugar. These prices are so different in a period of ten years that the interest of the capital varies from five to fifteen per cent. In the year 1804, for instance, if the capital employed had been only 100,000 piastres, the raw produce, according to the value of sugar and rum, would have amounted to 94,000 piastres. Now, from 1797 to 1800, the price of a case of sugar was sometimes, mean value, forty piastres instead of twenty-four, which I was obliged to suppose in the calculation for the year 1825. When a sugar-house, a great manufacture or a mine is found in the hands of the person who first formed the establishment, the estimate of the rate of interest which the capital employed yields to the proprietor, can be no guide to those who, purchasing afterwards, balance the advantages of different kinds of industry.

In soils that can be watered, or where plants with tuberose roots have preceded the cultivation of the sugar-cane, a caballeria of fertile land yields, instead of 1500 arrobas, 3000 or 4000, making 2660 or 3340 kilogrammes of sugar (blanco and quebrado) per hectare. In fixing on 1500 arrobas and estimating the case of sugar at 24 piastres, according to the price of the Havannah, we find that the hectare produces the value of 870 francs in sugar; and that of 288 francs in wheat, in the supposition of an octuple harvest, and the price of 100 kilogrammes of wheat being 18 francs. I have observed elsewhere that in this comparison of the two branches of cultivation it must not be forgotten that the cultivation of sugar requires great capital; for instance, at present 400,000 piastres for an annual production of 32,000 arrobas, or 368,000 kilogrammes, if this quantity be made in one single settlement. At Bengal, in watered lands, an acre (4044 square metres) renders 2300 kilogrammes of coarse sugar, making 5700 kilogrammes per hectare. If this fertility is common in lands of great extent we must not be surprised at the low price of sugar in the East Indies. The produce of a hectare is double that of the best soil in the West Indies and the price of a free Indian day-labourer is not one-third the price of the day-labour of a negro slave in the island of Cuba.

In Jamaica in 1825 a plantation of five hundred acres (or fifteen and a half caballerias), of which two hundred acres are cultivated in sugar-cane, yields, by the labour of two hundred slaves, one hundred oxen and fifty mules 2800 hundredweight, or 142,200 kilogrammes of sugar, and is computed to be worth, with its slaves, 43,000 pounds sterling. According to this estimate of Mr. Stewart, one hectare would yield 1760 kilogrammes of coarse sugar; for such is the quality of the sugar furnished for commerce at Jamaica. Reckoning in a great sugar-fabric of the Havannah 25 caballerias or 325 hectares for a produce of from 32,000 to 40,000 cases, we find 1130 or 1420 kilogrammes of refined sugar (blanco and quebrado) per hectare. This result agrees sufficiently with that of Jamaica, if we consider the loss sustained in the weight of sugar by refining, in converting the coarse sugar into azucar blanco y quebrado) or refined sugar. At San Domingo a square (3403 square toises = 1.29 hectare) is estimated at forty, and sometimes at sixty quintals: if we fix on 5000 pounds, we still find 1900 kilogrammes of coarse sugar per hectare. Supposing, as we ought to do when speaking of the produce of the whole island of Cuba, that, in soils of average fertility, the caballeria (at 13 hectares) yields 1500 arrobas of refined sugar (mixed with blanco and quebrado), or 1330 kilogrammes per hectare, it follows that 60,872 hectares, or nineteen five-fourths square sea leagues, (nearly a ninth of the extent of a department of France of middling size), suffice to produce the 440,000 cases of refined sugar furnished by the island of Cuba for its own consumption and for lawful and illicit exportation. It seems surprising that less than twenty square sea leagues should yield an annual produce of more than the value of fifty-two millions of francs (counting one case, at the Havannah, at the rate of twenty-four piastres). To furnish coarse sugar for the consumption of thirty millions of French (which is actually from fifty-six to sixty millions of kilogrammes) it requires within the tropics but nine and five-sixths square sea leagues cultivated with sugar-cane; and in temperate climates but thirty-seven and a half square sea leagues cultivated with beet-root. A hectare of good soil, sown or planted with beet-root, produces in France from ten to thirty thousand kilogrammes of beet-root. The mean fertility is 20,000 kilogrammes, which furnish 2 1/2 per cent, or five hundred kilogrammes of coarse sugar. Now, one hundred kilogrammes of that sugar yield fifty kilogrammes of refined sugar, thirty of sugar vergeoise, and twenty of muscovade; consequently, a hectare of beet-root produces 250 kilogrammes of refined sugar.

A short time before my arrival at the Havannah there had been sent from Germany some specimens of beet-root sugar which were said to menace the existence of the Sugar Islands in America. The planters had learned with alarm that it was a substance entirely similar to sugar-cane, but they flattered themselves that the high price of labour in Europe and the difficulty of separating the sugar fit for crystallization from so great a mass of vegetable pulp would render the operation on a grand scale little profitable. Chemistry has, since that period, succeeded in overcoming those difficulties; and, in the year 1812, France alone had more than two hundred beet-root sugar factories working with very unequal success and producing a million of kilogrammes of coarse sugar, that is, a fifty-eighth part of the actual consumption of sugar in France. Those two hundred factories are now reduced to fifteen or twenty, which yield a produce of 300,000 kilogrammes.* (* Although the actual price of cane-sugar not refined is 1 franc 50 cents the kilogramme, in the ports, the production of beetroot-sugar offers a still greater advantage in certain localities, for instance, in the vicinity of Arras. These establishments would be introduced in many other parts of France if the price of the sugar of the West Indies rose to 2 francs, or 2 francs 25 cents the kilogramme, and if the government laid no tax on the beetroot-sugar, to compensate the loss on the consumption of colonial sugar. The making of beetroot-sugar is especially profitable when combined with a general system of rural economy, with the improvement of the soil and the nourishment of cattle: it is not a cultivation independent of local circumstances, like that of the sugar-cane in the tropics.) The inhabitants of the West Indies, well informed of the affairs of Europe, no longer fear beet-root, grapes, chesnuts, and mushrooms, the coffee of Naples nor the indigo of the south of France. Fortunately the improvement of the condition of the West India slaves does not depend on the success of these branches of European cultivation.

Previously to the year 1762 the island of Cuba did not furnish more commercial produce than the three least industrious and most neglected provinces with respect to cultivation, Veragua, the isthmus of Panama and Darien, do at present. A political event which appeared extremely unfortunate, the taking of the Havannah by the English, roused the public mind. The town was evacuated in 1784 and its subsequent efforts of industry date from that memorable period. The construction of new fortifications on a gigantic plan* threw a great deal of money suddenly into circulation (* It is affirmed that the construction of the fort of Cabana alone cost fourteen millions of piastres.); later the slave-trade became free and furnished hands for the sugar factories. Free trade with all the ports of Spain and occasionally with neutral states, the able administration of Don Luis de Las Casas, the establishment of the Consulado and the Patriotic Society, the destruction of the French colony of Saint Domingo,* (* In three successive attempts, in August 1791, June 1793, and October 1803. Above all the unfortunate and sanguinary expedition of Generals Leclerc and Rochambeau completed the destruction of the sugar factories of Saint Domingo.) and the rise in the price of sugar which was the natural consequence, the improvement in machines and ovens, due in great part to the refugees of Cape Francois, the more intimate connection formed between the proprietors of the sugar factories and the merchants of the Havannah, the great capital employed by the latter in agricultural establishments (sugar and coffee plantations), such have been successively the causes of the increasing prosperity of the island of Cuba, notwithstanding the conflict of the authorities, which serves to embarrass the progress of affairs.

The greatest changes in the plantations of sugar-cane and in the sugar factories, took place from 1796 to 1800. First, mules were substituted (trapiches de mulas) for oxen (trapiches de bueyes); and afterwards hydraulic wheels were introduced (trapiches de agua), which the first conquistadores had employed at Saint Domingo; finally the action of steam-engines was tried at Ceibabo, at the expense of Count Jaruco y Mopex. There are now twenty-five of those machines in the different sugar mills of the island of Cuba. The culture of the sugar-cane of Otaheite in the meantime increased. Boilers of preparation (clarificadoras) were introduced and the reverberating furnaces better arranged. It must be said, to the honour of wealthy proprietors, that in a great number of plantations, a kind solicitude is manifested for sick slaves, for the introduction of negresses, and for the education of children.

The number of sugar factories (yngenios) in 1775 was 473 in the whole island; and in 1817 more than 780. Among the former, none produced the fourth part of the sugar now made in the yngenios of second rank; it is consequently not the number of factories that can afford an accurate idea of the progress of that branch of agricultural industry.

The first sugar-canes carefully planted on virgin soil yield a harvest during twenty to twenty-five years, after which they must be replanted every three years. There existed in 1804, at the Hacienda de Matamoros, a square (canaveral) worked during forty-five years. The most fertile soil for the production of sugar is now in the vicinity of Mariel and Guanajay. That variety of sugar-cane known by the name of Cana de Otahiti, recognised at a distance by a fresher green, has the advantage of furnishing, on the same extent of soil, one-fourth more juice, and a stem more woody, thicker, and consequently richer in combustible matter. The refiners (maestros de azucar), pretend that the vezou (guarapo) of the Cana de Otahiti is more easily worked, and yields more crystallized sugar by adding less lime or potass to the vezou. The South Sea sugar-cane furnishes, no doubt, after five or six years' cultivation, the thinnest stubble, but the knots remain more distant from each other than in the Cana creolia or de la tierra. The apprehension at first entertained of the former degenerating by degrees into ordinary sugar-cane is happily not realized. The sugar-cane is planted in the island of Cuba in the rainy season, from July to October; and the harvest is gathered from February to May.

In proportion as by too rapid clearing the island has become unwooded, the sugar-houses have begun to want fuel. A little stalk (sugar-cane destitute of its juice) used to be employed to quicken the fire beneath the old cauldrons (tachos); but it is only since the introduction of reverberating furnaces by the emigrants of Saint Domingo that the attempt has been made to dispense altogether with wood and burn only refuse sugar-cane. In the old construction of furnaces and cauldrons, a tarea of wood, of one hundred and sixty cubic feet, is burnt to produce five arrobas of sugar, or, for a hundred kilogrammes of raw sugar, 278 cubic feet of the wood of the lemon and orange trees are required. In the reverberating furnaces of Saint Domingo a cart of refuse-cane of 495 cubic feet produced 640 pounds of coarse sugar, which make 158 cubic feet of refuse-cane for 100 kilogrammes of sugar. I attempted, during my stay at Guines, and especially at Rio Blanco, with the Count de Mopex, several new constructions, with the view of diminishing the expense of fuel, surrounding the focus with substances which do not powerfully conduct the heat, and thus diminish the sufferings of the slaves who keep up the fire. A long residence in the salt-producing districts of Europe, and the labours of practical halurgy, to which I have been devoted since my early youth, suggested to me the idea of those constructions, which have been imitated with some success. Cuvercles of wood, placed on clarificadoras, accelerated the evaporation, and led me to believe that a system of cuvercles and moveable frames, furnished with counter-weights, might extend to other cauldrons. This object merits further examination; but the quantity of vezou (guarapo) of the crystallized sugar extracted, and that which is destroyed, the fuel, the time and the pecuniary expense, must be carefully estimated.

An error, very general through Europe and one which influences opinion respecting the effects of the abolition of the slave-trade, is that in those West India islands called sugar colonies, the majority of the slaves are supposed to be employed in the production of sugar. The cultivation of the sugar-cane is no doubt a powerful incentive to the activity of the slave trade; but a very simple calculation suffices to prove that the total mass of slaves contained in the West Indies is nearly three times greater than the number employed in the production of sugar. I showed seven years ago that, if the 200,000 cases of sugar exported from the island of Cuba in 1812 were produced in the great establishments, less than 30,000 slaves would have sufficed for that kind of labour. It ought to be borne in mind for the interests of humanity that the evils of slavery weigh on a much greater number of individuals than agricultural labours require, even admitting, which I am very far from doing, that sugar, coffee, indigo and cotton can be cultivated only by slaves. At the island of Cuba it is generally supposed that one hundred and fifty negroes are required to produce 1000 cases (184,000 kilogrammes) of refined sugar; or, in round numbers, a little more than 1200 kilogrammes, by the labour of each adult slave. The production of 440,000 cases would consequently require only 66,000 slaves. If we add 36,000 to that number for the cultivation of coffee and tobacco in the island of Cuba, we find that about 100,000 of the 260,000 slaves now there would suffice for the three great branches of colonial industry on which the activity of commerce depends.

COFFEE.

The cultivation of coffee takes its date, like the improved construction of cauldrons in the sugar houses, from the arrival of the emigrants of San Domingo, especially after the years 1796 and 1798. A hectare yields 860 kilogrammes, the produce of 3500 plants. The province of the Havannah reckoned:

In 1800 60 cafetales.
In 1817 779 cafetales.

The coffee tree being a shrub that yields a good harvest only in the fourth year, the exportation of coffee from the port of the Havannah was, in 1804, only 50,000 arrobas. It rose:

In 1809 to 320,000 arrobas.
In 1815 to 918,263 arrobas.

In 1815, when the price of coffee was fifteen piastres the quintal, the value of the exportation from the Havannah exceeded the sum of 3,443,000 piastres. In 1823, the exportation from the port of Matanzas was 84,440 arrobas; so that it seems not doubtful that, in years of medium fertility, the total exportation of the island, lawful and contraband, is more than fourteen millions of kilogrammes.

From this calculation it results that the exportation of coffee from the island of Cuba is greater than that from Java, estimated by Mr. Crawfurd, in 1820, at 190,000 piculs, 11 4/5 millions of kilogrammes. It likewise exceeds the exportation from Jamaica, which amounted, in 1823, according to the registers of the custom-house, only to 169,734 hundredweight, or 8,622,478 kilogrammes. In the same year Great Britain received, from all the English islands, 194,820 hundredweight; or 9,896,856 kilogrammes; which proves that Jamaica only produced six-sevenths. Guadaloupe sent, in 1810, to the mother country, 1,017,190 kilogrammes; Martinico, 671,336 kilogrammes. At Hayti, where the production of coffee before the French revolution was 37,240,000 kilogrammes, Port-au-Prince exported, in 1824, only 91,544,000 kilogrammes. It appears that the total exportation of coffee from the archipelago of the West Indies, by lawful means only, now amounts to more than thirty-eight millions of kilogrammes; nearly five times the consumption of France, which, from 1820 to 1823, was, on the yearly average, 8,198,000 kilogrammes. The consumption of Great Britain is yet* only 3 1/2 millions of kilogrammes. (* Before the year 1807, when the tax on coffee was reduced, the consumption of Great Britain was not 8000 hundredweight (less than 1/2 million of kilogrammes); in 1809, it rose to 45,071 hundredweight; in 1810, to 49,147 hundredweight; in 1823, to 71,000 hundredweight, in 1824, to 66,000 hundredweight (or 3,552,800 kilogrammes.)

The exportation of 1814 was 60 1/2 millions of kilogrammes, which we may suppose was at that period nearly the consumption of the whole of Europe. Great Britain (taking that denomination in its true sense, as denoting only England and Scotland) now consumes nearly two-thirds less coffee and three times more sugar than France.

The price of sugar at the Havannah is always by the arroba of 25 Spanish pounds (or 11.49 kilogrammes), and the price of coffee by the quintal (or 45.97 kilogrammes). The latter has been known to vary from 4 to 30 piastres; it even fell, in 1808, below 24 reals. The price of 1815 and 1819 was between 13 and 17 piastres the quintal; coffee is now at 12 piastres. It is probable that the cultivation of coffee scarcely employs in the whole island of Cuba 28,000 slaves, who produce, on the yearly average, 305,000 Spanish quintals (14 millions of kilogrammes), or, according to the present value, 3,660,000 piastres; while 66,000 negroes produce 440,000 cases (81 millions of kilogrammes) of sugar, which, at the price of 24 piastres, is worth 10,560,000 piastres. It results from this calculation that a slave now produces the value of 130 piastres of coffee, and 160 piastres of sugar. It is almost useless to observe that these relations vary with the price of the two articles, of which the variations are often opposite and that, in calculations which may throw some light on agriculture in the tropical region, I comprehend in the same point of view interior consumption, exportation lawful and contraband.

TOBACCO.

The tobacco of the island of Cuba is celebrated throughout Europe. The custom of smoking, borrowed from the natives of Hayti, was introduced into Europe about the end of the sixteenth and beginning of the seventeenth century. It was generally hoped that the cultivation of tobacco, freed from an oppressive monopoly, would be to the Havannah a very profitable object of commerce. The good intentions displayed by the government in abolishing, within six years, the Factoria de tabacos, have not been attended by the improvement which was expected in that branch of industry. The cultivators want capital, the farms have become extremely dear, and the predilection for the cultivation of coffee is prejudicial to that of tobacco.

The oldest information we possess respecting the quantity of tobacco which the island of Cuba has thrown into the magazines of the mother country go back to 1748. According to the Abbe Raynal, a much more exact writer than is generally believed, that quantity, from 1748 to 1753 (average year) was 75,000 arrobas. From 1789 to 1794 the produce of the island amounted annually to 250,000 arrobas; but from that period to 1803 the increased price of land, the attention given exclusively to the coffee plantations and the sugar factories, little vexations in the exercise of the royal monopoly (estanco), and impediments in the way of export trade, have progressively diminished the produce by more than one-half. The total produce of tobacco in the island is, however, believed to have been, from 1822 to 1825, again from 300,000 to 400,000 arrobas.

In good years, when the harvest rose to 350,000 arrobas of leaves, 128,000 arrobas were prepared for the Peninsula, 80,000 for the Havannah, 9200 for Peru, 6000 for Panama, 3000 for Buenos Ayres, 2240 for Mexico, and 1000 for Caracas and Campeachy. To complete the sum of 315,000,000 (for the harvest loses 10 per cent of its weight in merma y aberias, during the preparation and the transport) we must suppose that 80,000 arrobas were consumed in the interior of the island (en los campos), whither the monopoly and the taxes did not extend. The maintenance of 120 slaves and the expense of the manufacture amounted only to 12,000 piastres annually; the persons employed in the factoria cost 54,100 piastres. The value of 128,000 arrobas, which in good years was sent to Spain, either in cigars or in snuff (rama y polvos), often exceeded 5,000,000 piastres, according to the common price of Spain. It seems surprising to see that the statements of exportation from the Havannah (documents published by the Consulado) mark the exportations for 1816, at only 3400 arrobas; for 1823, only 13,900 arrobas of tabaco en rama, and 71,000 pounds of tabaco torcida, estimated together, at the custom-house, at 281,000 piastres; for 1825, only 70,302 pounds of cigars, and 167,100 pounds of tobacco in leaves; but it must be remembered that no branch of contraband is more active than that of cigars. Although the tobacco of the Vuelta de abaxo is the most famous, a considerable exportation takes place in the eastern part of the island. I rather doubt the total exportation of 200,000 boxes of cigars (value 2,000,000 piastres) as stated by several travellers during latter years. If the harvests were thus abundant, why should the island of Cuba receive tobacco from the United States for the consumption of the lower class of people?

I shall say nothing of the cotton, the indigo, or the wheat of the island of Cuba. These branches of colonial industry are of comparatively little importance; and the proximity of the United States and Guatimala renders competition almost impossible. The state of Salvador, belonging to the Confederation of Central America, now throws 12,000 tercios annually, or 1,800,000 pounds of indigo into trade; an exportation which amounts to more than 2,000,000 piastres. The cultivation of wheat succeeds (to the great astonishment of travellers who have passed through Mexico), near the Quatro Villas, at small heights above the level of the ocean, though in general it is very limited. The flour is fine; but colonial productions are more tempting, and the plains of the United States—that Crimea of the New World—yield harvests too abundant for the commerce of native cereals to be efficaciously protected by the prohibitive system of the custom-house, in an island near the mouth of the Mississippi and the Delaware. Analogous difficulties oppose the cultivation of flax, hemp, and the vine. Possibly the inhabitants of Cuba are themselves ignorant of the fact that, in the first years of the conquest by the Spaniards, wine was made in their island of wild grapes.* (* De muchas parras monteses con ubas se ha cogido vino, aunque algo agrio. [From several grape-bearing vines which grow in the mountains, they extract a kind of wine; but it is very acid.] Herera Dec. 1 page 233. Gabriel de Cabrera found a tradition at Cuba similar to that which the people of Semitic race have of Noah experiencing for the first time the effect of a fermented liquor. He adds that the idea of two races of men, one naked, another clothed, is linked to the American tradition. Has Cabrera, preoccupied by the rites of the Hebrews, imperfectly interpreted the words of the natives, or, as seems more probable, has he added something to the analogies of the woman-serpent, the conflict of two brothers, the cataclysm of water, the raft of Coxcox, the exploring bird, and many other things that teach us incontestably that there existed a community of antique traditions between the nations of the two worlds? Views of the Cordilleras and Monuments of America.) This kind of vine, peculiar to America, has given rise to the general error that the true Vitis vinifera is common to the two continents. The Parras monteses which yields the somewhat sour wine of the island of Cuba, was probably gathered on the Vitis tiliaefolia which Mr. Willdenouw has described from our herbals. In no part of the northern hemisphere has the vine hitherto been cultivated with the view of producing wine south of the 27 degrees 48 minutes, or the latitude of the island of Ferro, one of the Canaries, and of 29 degrees 2 minutes, or the latitude of Bushire in Persia.

WAX.

This is not the produce of native bees (the Melipones of Latreille), but of bees brought from Europe by way of Florida. The trade in wax has only become important since 1772. The exportation of the whole island, which from 1774 to 1779 was only 2700 arrobas (average year), was estimated in 1803, including contraband, at 42,700 arrobas, of which 25,000 were destined for Vera Cruz. In the churches of Mexico there is a great consumption of Cuban wax. The price varies from sixteen to twenty piastres the arroba.

Trinidad and the small port of Baracoa also carry on a considerable trade in wax, furnished by the almost uncultivated regions on the east of the island. In the proximity of the sugar-factories many bees perish of inebriety from the molasses, of which they are extremely fond. In general the production of wax diminishes in proportion as the cultivation of the land augments. The exportation of wax, according to the present price, amounts to about 500,000 of piastres.

COMMERCE.

It has already been observed that the importance of the commerce of the island of Cuba depends not solely on the riches of its productions, the wants of the population in the articles and merchandize of Europe, but also in great part on the favourable position of the port of the Havannah. This port is situated at the entrance of the Gulf of Mexico, where the high roads of the commercial nations of the old and the new worlds cross each other. It was remarked by the Abbe Raynal, at a period when agriculture and industry were in their infancy, and scarcely threw into commerce the value of 2,000,000 piastres in sugar and tobacco, that the island of Cuba alone might be worth a kingdom to Spain. There seems to have been something prophetic in those memorable words; and since the parent state has lost Mexico, Peru and so many other colonies declared independent, they demand the serious consideration of statesmen who are called upon to discuss the political interests of the Peninsula.

The island of Cuba, to which for a long time the court of Madrid wisely granted great freedom of trade, exports, lawfully and by contraband, of its own native productions, in sugar, coffee, tobacco, wax and skins, to the value of more than 14,000,000 piastres; which is about one-third less than the value of the precious metals furnished by Mexico at the period of the greatest prosperity of its mines.* (* In 1805 gold and silver specie was struck at Mexico to the value of 27,165,888 piastres; but, taking an average of ten years of political tranquillity, we find from 1800 to 1810 scarcely 24 1/2 million of piastres.) It may be said that the Havannah and Vera Cruz are to the rest of America what New York is to the United States. The tonnage of 1000 to 1200 merchant ships which annually enter the port of the Havannah, amounts (excluding the small coasting-vessels), to 150,000 or 170,000 tons.* (* In 1816 the tonnage of the commerce of New York was 299,617 tons; that of Boston, 143,420 tons. The amount of tonnage is not always an exact measure of the wealth of commerce. The countries which export rice, flour, hewn wood and cotton require more capaciousness than the tropical regions of which the productions (cochineal, indigo, sugar and coffee) are of little bulk, although of considerable value.) In time of peace from 120 to 150 ships of war are frequently seen at anchor at the Havannah. From 1815 to 1819 the productions registered at the custom-house of that port only (sugar, rum, molasses, coffee, wax and butter) amounted, on the average, to the value of 11,245,000 piastres per annum. In 1823 the exportation registered two-thirds less than their actual price, amounted (deducting 1,179,000 piastres in specie) to more than 12,500,000 piastres. It is probable that the importations of the whole island (lawful and contraband), estimated at the real price of the articles, the merchandize and the slaves, amount at present to 15,000,000 or 16,000,000 piastres, of which scarcely 3,000,000 or 4,000,000 are re-exported. The Havannah purchases from abroad far beyond its own wants, and exchanges its colonial articles for the productions of the manufactures of Europe, to sell a part of them at Vera Cruz, Truxillo, Guayra, and Carthagena.

On comparing, in the commercial tables of the Havannah, the great value of merchandise imported, with the little value of merchandise re-exported, one is surprised at the vast internal consumption of a country containing only 325,000 whites and 130,000 free men of colour. We find, in estimating the different articles, according to the real current prices: in cotton and linen (bretanas, platillas, lienzos y hilo), two and a half to three millions of piastres; in tissues of cotton (zarazas musulinas), one million of piastres; in silk (rasos y generos de seda), 400,000 piastres; and in linen and woollen tissues, 220,000 piastres. The wants of the island, in European tissues, registered as exported to the port of the Havannah only, consequently exceeded, in these latter years, from four millions to four and a half millions of piastres. To these importations of the Havannah we must add: hardware and furniture, more than half a million of piastres; iron and steel, 380,000 piastres; planks and great timber, 400,000 piastres; Castile soap, 300,000 piastres. With respect to the importation of provisions and drinks to the Havannah, it appears to me to be well worthy the attention of those who would know the real state of those societies which are called sugar or slave colonies. Such is the composition of those societies established on the most fruitful soil which nature can furnish for the nourishment of man, such the direction of agricultural labours and industry in the West Indies, that, in the best climate of the equinoctial region, the population would want subsistence but for the freedom and activity of external commerce. I do not speak of the introduction of wines at the port of the Havannah, which amounted (according to the registers of the custom-house), in 1803, to 40,000 barrels; in 1823, to 15,000 pipas and 17,000 barrels, to the value of 1,200,000 piastres; nor of the introduction of 6000 barrels of brandy from Spain and Holland, and 113,000 barrels (1,864,000 piastres) of flour. These wines, liquors and flour are consumed by the opulent part of the nation. The cereals of the United States have become articles of absolute necessity in a zone where maize, manioc and bananas were long preferred to every other amylaceous food. The development of a luxury altogether European, cannot be complained of amidst the prosperity and increasing civilization of the Havannah; but, along with the introduction of the flour, wine, and spirituous liquors of Europe, we find, in the year 1816, 1 1/2millions of piastres; and, in the year 1823, 3 1/2 millions for salt meat, rice and dried vegetables. In the last mentioned year, the importation of rice was 323,000 arrobas; and the importation of dried and salt meat (tasajo), for the slaves, 465,000 arrobas.

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Part 3 of 3

The scarcity of necessary articles of subsistence characterizes a part of the tropical climates where the imprudent activity of Europeans has inverted the order of nature: it will diminish in proportion as the inhabitants, more enlightened respecting their true interests, and discouraged by the low price of colonial produce, will vary the cultivation, and give free scope to all the branches of rural economy. The principles of that narrow policy which guides the government of very small islands, inhabited by men who desert the soil whenever they are sufficiently enriched, cannot be applicable to a country of an extent nearly equal to that of England, covered with populous cities, and where the inhabitants, established from father to son during ages, far from regarding themselves as strangers to the American soil, cherish it as their own country. The population of the island of Cuba, which in fifty years will perhaps exceed a million, may open by its own consumption an immense field to native industry. If the slave-trade should cease altogether, the slaves will pass by degrees into the class of free men; and society, being reconstructed, without suffering any of the violent convulsions of civil dissension, will follow the path which nature has traced for all societies that become numerous and enlightened. The cultivation of the sugar-cane and of coffee will not be abandoned; but it will no longer remain the principal basis of national existence than the cultivation of cochineal in Mexico, of indigo in Guatimala, and of cacao in Venezuela. A free, intelligent and agricultural population will progressively succeed a slave population, destitute of foresight and industry. Already the capital which the commerce of the Havannah has placed within the last twenty-five years in the hands of cultivators, has begun to change the face of the country; and to that power, of which the action is constantly increasing, another will be necessarily joined, inseparable from the progress of industry and national wealth—the development of human intelligence. On these united powers depend the future destinies of the metropolis of the West Indies.

In reference to what has been said respecting external commerce, I may quote the author of a memoir which I have often mentioned, and who describes the real situation of the island. "At the Havannah, the effects of accumulated wealth begin to be felt; the price of provisions has been doubled in a small number of years. Labour is so dear that a bozal negro, recently brought from the coast of Africa, gains by the labour of his hands (without having learned any trade) from four to five reals (two francs thirteen sous to three francs five sous) a day. The negroes who follow mechanical trades, however common, gain from five to six francs. The patrician families remain fixed to the soil: a man who has enriched himself does not return to Europe taking with him his capital. Some families are so opulent that Don Matheo de Pedroso, who died lately, left in landed property above two millions of piastres. Several commercial houses of the Havannah purchase, annually, from ten to twelve thousand cases of sugar, for which they pay at the rate of from 350,000 to 420,000 piastres." (De la situacion presente de Cuba in manuscript.) Such was the state of public wealth at the end of 1800. Twenty-five years of increasing prosperity have elapsed since that period, and the population of the island is nearly doubled. The exportation of registered sugar had not, in any year before 1800, attained the extent of 170,000 cases (31,280,000 kilogrammes); in these latter times it has constantly surpassed 200,000 cases, and even attained 250,000 and 300,000 cases (forty-six to fifty-five millions of kilogrammes). A new branch of industry has sprung up (that of plantations of the coffee tree) which furnishes an exportation of the value of three millions and a half of piastres. Industry, guided by a greater mass of knowledge, has been better directed. The system of taxation that weighed on national industry and exterior commerce has been made lighter since 1791, and been improved by successive changes. Whenever the mother-country, mistaking her own interests, has attempted to make a retrograde step, courageous voices have arisen not only among the Havaneros, but often among the Spanish rulers, in defence of the freedom of American commerce. A new channel has recently been opened for capital by the enlightened zeal and patriotic views of the intendant Don Claudio Martinez de Pinillos, and the commerce of entrepot has been granted to the Havannah on the most advantageous conditions.

The difficult and expensive interior communications of the island render its own productions dearer at the ports, notwithstanding the short distance between the northern and southern coasts. A project of canalization which unites the double advantage of connecting the Havannah and Batabano by a navigable line, and diminishing the high price of the transport of native produce, merits here a special mention. The idea of the Canal of Guines had been conceived for more than half a century with the view of furnishing timber at a more moderate price for ship-building in the arsenal of the Havannah. In 1796 the Count de Jaruco y Mopox, an enterprising man, who had acquired great influence by his connection with the Prince of the Peace, undertook to revive this project. The survey was made in 1798 by two very able engineers, Don Francisco and Don Felix Lemaur. These officers ascertained that the canal in its whole development would be nineteen leagues long (5000 varas or 4150 metres), that the point of partition would be at the Taverna del Rey, and that it would require nineteen locks on the north, and twenty-one on the south. The distance from the Havannah to Batabano is only eight and a half sea-leagues. The canal of Guines would be very useful for the transport of agricultural productions by steam-boats,* because its course would be in proximity with the best cultivated lands. (* Steam-boats are established from the Havannah to Matanzas, and from the Havannah to Mariel. The government granted to Don Juan O'Farrill (March 24th, 1819) a privilege on the barcos de vapor.) The roads are nowhere worse in the rainy season than in this part of the island, where the soil is of friable limestone, little fitted for the construction of solid roads. The transport of sugar from Guines to the Havannah, a distance of twelve leagues, now costs one piastre per quintal. Besides the advantage of facilitating internal communications, the canal would also give great importance to the surgidero of Batabano, into which small vessels laden with salt provisions (tasajo) from Venezuela, would enter without being obliged to double Cape Saint Antonio. In the bad season and in time of war, when corsairs are cruising between Cape Catoche, Tortugas and Mariel, the passage from the Spanish main to the island of Cuba would be shortened by entering, not at the Havannah, but at some port of the southern coast. The cost of constructing the canal de Guines was estimated in 1796 at one million, or 1,200,000 piastres: it is now thought that the expense would amount to more than one million and a half. The productions which might annually pass the canal have been estimated at 75,000 cases of sugar, 25,000 arrobas of coffee, and 8000 bocoyes of molasses and rum. According to the first project, that of 1796, it was intended to link the canal with the small river of Guines, to be brought from the Ingenio de la Holanda to Quibican, three leagues south of Bejucal and Santa Rosa. This idea is now relinquished, the Rio de los Guines losing its waters towards the east in the irrigation of the savannahs of Hato de Guanamon. Instead of carrying the canal east of the Barrio del Cerro and south of the fort of Atares, in the bay of the Havannah, it was proposed at first to make use of the bed of the Chorrera or Rio Armendaris, from Calabazal to the Husillo, and then of the Zanja Real, not only for conveying the boats to the centre of the arrabales and of the city of the Havannah, but also for furnishing water to the fountains which require to be supplied during three months of the year. I visited several times, with MM. Lemaur, the plains through which this line of navigation is intended to pass. The utility of the project is incontestable if in times of great drought a sufficient quantity of water can be brought to the point of partition.

At the Havannah, as in every place where commerce and the wealth it produces increase rapidly, complaints are heard of the prejudicial influence exercised by them on ancient manners. We cannot here stop to compare the first state of the island of Cuba, when covered with pasturage, before the taking of the capital by the English, and its present condition, since it has become the metropolis of the West Indies; nor to throw into the balance the candour and simplicity of manners of an infant society, against the manners that belong to the development of an advanced civilization. The spirit of commerce, leading to the love of wealth, no doubt brings nations to depreciate what money cannot obtain. But the state of human things is happily such that what is most desirable, most noble, most free in man, is owing only to the inspirations of the soul, to the extent and amelioration of its intellectual faculties. Were the thirst of riches to take absolute possession of every class of society, it would infallibly produce the evil complained of by those who see with regret what they call the preponderance of the industrious system; but the increase of commerce, by multiplying the connections between nations, by opening an immense sphere to the activity of the mind, by pouring capital into agriculture, and creating new wants by the refinement of luxury, furnishes a remedy against the supposed dangers.

FINANCE.

The increase of the agricultural prosperity of the island of Cuba and the influence of the accumulation of wealth on the value of importations, have raised the public revenue in these latter years to four millions and a half, perhaps five millions of piastres. The custom-house of the Havannah, which before 1794 yielded less than 600,000 piastres, and from 1797 to 1800, 1,900,000 piastres, pours into the treasury, since the declaration of free trade, a revenue (importe liquido) of more than 3,100,000 piastres.* (* The custom-house of Port-au-Prince, at Hayti, produced in 1825, the sum of 1,655,764 piastres; that of Buenos Ayres, from 1819 to 1821, average year, 1,655,000 piastres. See Centinela de La Plata, September 1822 Number 8; Argos de Buenos Ayres Number 85.)

The island of Cuba as yet contains only one forty-second part of the population of France; and one half of its inhabitants, being in the most abject indigence, consume but little. Its revenue is nearly equal to that of the Republic of Columbia, and it exceeds the revenue of all the custom-houses of the United States* before the year 1795, when that confederation had 4,500,000 inhabitants, while the island of Cuba contained only 715,000. (* The custom-houses of the United States, which yielded in 1801 to 1808 sixteen millions of dollars, produced in 1815 but 7,282,000.) The principal source of the public revenue of this fine colony is the custom-house, which alone produces above three-fifths, and amply suffices for all the wants of the internal administration and military defence. If in these latter years, the expense of the general treasury of the Havannah amounted to more than four millions of piastres, this increase of expense is solely owing to the obstinate struggle maintained between the mother country and her freed colonies. Two millions of piastres were employed to pay the land and sea forces which poured back from the American continent, by the Havannah, on their way to the Peninsula. As long as Spain, unmindful of her real interests, refuses to recognize the independence of the New Republics, the island of Cuba, menaced by Columbia and the Mexican Confederation, must support a military force for its external defence, which ruins the colonial finances. The Spanish naval force stationed in the port of the Havannah generally costs above 650,000 piastres. The land forces require nearly one million and a half of piastres. Such a state of things cannot last indefinitely if the Peninsula do not relieve the burden that presses upon the colony.

From 1789 to 1797 the produce of the custom-house at the Havannah never rose to more than 700,000 piastres. In 1814 it was 1,855,117. From 1815 to 1819 the royal taxes in the port of the Havannah amounted to 11,575,460 piastres; total 18,284,807 piastres; or, average year, 3,657,000 piastres, of which the municipal taxes formed 0.36.

The public revenue of the Administracion general de Rentas of the jurisdiction of Havannah amounted:

in 1820 to 3,631,273 piastres. in 1821 to 3,277,639 piastres. in 1822 to 3,378,228 piastres.

The royal and municipal taxes of importation at the custom-house of the Havannah in 1823 were 2,734,563 piastres.

The total amount of the revenue of the Havannah in 1824 was 3,025,300 piastres.

In 1825 the revenue of the town and jurisdiction of the Havannah was 3,350,300 piastres.

These partial statements show that from 1789 to 1824 the public revenue of Cuba has been increased sevenfold.

According to the estimates of the Cajas matrices, the public revenue in 1822 was, in the province of the Havannah alone, 4,311,862 piastres; which arose from the custom-house (3,127,918 piastres), from the ramos de directa entrada, as lottery, tithes, etc. (601,808 piastres), and anticipations on the charges of the Consulado and the Deposito (581,978 piastres). The expenditure in the same year, for the island of Cuba, was 2,732,738 piastres, and for the succour destined to maintain the struggle with the continental colonies declared independent, 1,362,029 piastres. In the first class of expenditure we find 1,355,798 piastres for the subsistence of the military forces kept up for the defence of the Havannah and the neighbouring places; and 648,908 piastres for the royal navy stationed in the port of the Havannah. In the second class of expense foreign to the local administration we find 1,115,672 piastres for the pay of 4234 soldiers who, after having evacuated Mexico, Columbia and other parts of the Continent formerly Spanish possessions, passed by the Havannah to return to Spain; 164,000 piastres is the cost of the defence of the castle of San Juan de Ulloa.

I here terminate the Political Essay on the island of Cuba, in which I have traced the state of that important Spanish possession as it now is. My object has been to throw light on facts and give precision to ideas by the aid of comparisons and statistical tables. That minute investigation of facts is desirable at a moment when, on the one hand enthusiasm exciting to benevolent credulity, and on the other animosities menacing the security of the new republics, have given rise to the most vague and erroneous statements. I have as far as possible abstained from all reasoning on future chances, and on the probability of the changes which external politics may produce in the situation of the West Indies. I have merely examined what regards the organization of human society; the unequal partition of rights and of the enjoyments of life; the threatening dangers which the wisdom of the legislator and the moderation of free men may ward off, whatever be the form of the government. It is for the traveller who has been an eyewitness of the suffering and the degradation of human nature to make the complaints of the unfortunate reach the ear of those by whom they can be relieved. I observed the condition of the blacks in countries where the laws, the religion and the national habits tend to mitigate their fate; yet I retained, on quitting America, the same horror of slavery which I had felt in Europe. In vain have writers of ability, seeking to veil barbarous institutions by ingenious turns of language, invented the expressions negro peasants of the West Indies, black vassalage, and patriarchal protection: that is profaning the noble qualities of the mind and the imagination, for the purpose of exculpating by illusory comparisons or captious sophisms excesses which afflict humanity, and which prepare the way for violent convulsions. Do they think that they have acquired the right of putting down commiseration, by comparing* the condition of the negroes with that of the serfs of the middle ages, and with the state of oppression to which some classes are still subjected in the north and east of Europe? (* Such comparisons do not satisfy those secret partisans of the slave trade who try to make light of the miseries of the black race, and to resist every emotion those miseries awaken. The permanent condition of a caste founded on barbarous laws and institutions is often confounded with the excesses of a power temporarily exercised on individuals. Thus Mr. Bolingbroke, who lived seven years at Demerara and who visited the West India Islands, observes that "on board an English ship of war, flogging is more frequent than in the plantations of the English colonies." He adds "that in general the negroes are but little flogged, but that very reasonable means of correction have been imagined, such as making them take boiling soup strongly peppered, or obliging them to drink, with a very small spoon, a solution of Glauber-salts." Mr. Bolingbroke regards the slave-trade as a universal benefit; and he is persuaded that if negroes who have enjoyed, during twenty years, all the comforts of slave life at Demerara, were permitted to return to the coast of Africa, they would effect recruiting on a large scale, and bring whole nations to the English possessions. Voyage to Demerara, 1807. Such is the firm and frank profession of faith of a planter; yet Mr. Bolingbroke, as several passages of his book prove, is a moderate man, full of benevolent intentions towards the slaves.) These comparisons, these artifices of language, this disdainful impatience with which even a hope of the gradual abolition of slavery is repulsed as chimerical, are useless arms in the times in which we live. The great revolutions which the continent of America and the Archipelago of the West Indies have undergone since the commencement of the nineteenth century, have had their influence on public feeling and public reason, even in countries where slavery exists and is beginning to be modified. Many sensible men, deeply interested in the tranquillity of the sugar and slave islands, feel that by a liberal understanding among the proprietors, and by judicious measures adopted by those who know the localities, they might emerge from a state of danger and uneasiness which indolence and obstinacy serve only to increase.

Slavery is no doubt the greatest evil that afflicts human nature, whether we consider the slave torn from his family in his native country and thrown into the hold of a slave ship,* or as making part of a flock of black men, parked on the soil of the West Indies; but for individuals there are degrees of suffering and privation. (* "If the slaves are whipped," said one of the witnesses before the Parliamentary Committee of 1789, "to make them dance on the deck of a slave ship—if they are forced to sing in chorus; 'Messe, messe, mackerida,' [how gaily we live among the whites], this only proves the care we take of the health of those men." This delicate attention reminds me of the description of an auto-da-fe in my possession. In that curious document a boast is made of the prodigality with which refreshments are distributed to the condemned, and of the staircase which the inquisitors have had erected in the interior of the pile for the accommodation of the relazados (the relapsed culprits.)) How great is the difference in the condition of the slave who serves in the house of a rich family at the Havannah or at Kingston, or one who works for himself, giving his master but a daily retribution, and that of the slave attached to a sugar estate! The threats employed to correct an obstinate negro mark this scale of human privations. The coachman is menaced with the coffee plantation; and the slave working on the latter is menaced with the sugar house. The negro, who with his wife inhabits a separate hut, whose heart is warmed by those feelings of affection which for the most part characterize the African race, finds that after his labour some care is taken of him amidst his indigent family, is in a position not to be compared with that of the insulated slave lost in the mass. This diversity of condition escapes the notice of those who have not had the spectacle of the West Indies before their eyes. Owing to the progressive amelioration of the state even of the captive caste in the island of Cuba, the luxury of the masters and the possibility of gain by their work, have drawn more than eighty thousand slaves to the towns; and the manumission of them, favoured by the wisdom of the laws, is become so active as to have produced, at the present period, more than 130,000 free men of colour. By considering the individual position of each class, by recompensing, by the decreasing scale of privations, intelligence, love of labour and the domestic virtues, the colonial administration will find the best means of improving the condition of the blacks. Philanthropy does not consist in giving a little more salt-fish, and some fewer lashes: the real amelioration of the captive caste ought to extend over the whole moral and physical position of man.

The impulse may be given by those European governments which have a right comprehension of human dignity, and who know that whatever is unjust bears with it a germ of destruction; but this impulse, it is melancholy to add, will be powerless if the union of the planters, if the colonial assemblies or legislatures, fail to adopt the same views and to act by a well-concerted plan, having for its ultimate aim the cessation of slavery in the West Indies. Till then it will be in vain to register the strokes of the whip, to diminish the number that may be given at one time, to require the presence of witnesses and to appoint protectors of slaves; all these regulations, dictated by the most benevolent intentions, are easily eluded: the isolated position of the plantations renders their execution impossible. They pre-suppose a system of domestic inquisition incompatible with what is understood in the colonies by the phrase established rights. The state of slavery cannot be altogether peaceably ameliorated except by the simultaneous action of the free men (white men and coloured) residing in the West Indies; by colonial assemblies and legislatures; by the influence of those who, enjoying great moral consideration among their countrymen and acquainted with the localities, know how to vary the means of improvement conformably with the manners, habits, and the position of every island. In preparing the way for the accomplishment of this task, which ought to embrace a great part of the archipelago of the West Indies, it may be useful to cast a retrospective glance on the events by which the freedom of a considerable part of the human race was obtained in Europe in the middle ages. In order to ameliorate without commotion new institutions must be made, as it were, to rise out of those which the barbarism of centuries has consecrated. It will one day seem incredible that until the year 1826 there existed no law in the Great Antilles to prevent the sale of young infants and their separation from their parents, or to prohibit the degrading custom of marking the negroes with a hot iron, merely to enable these human cattle to be more easily recognized. Enact laws to obviate the possibility of a barbarous outrage; fix, in every sugar estate, the proportion between the least number of negresses and that of the labouring negroes; grant liberty to every slave who has served fifteen years, to every negress who has reared four or five children; set them free on the condition of working a certain number of days for the profit of the plantation; give the slaves a part of the net produce, to interest them in the increase of agricultural riches;* fix a sum on the budget of the public funds, destined for the ransom of slaves, and the amelioration of their condition—such are the most urgent objects for colonial legislation. (* General Lafayette, whose name is linked with all that promises to contribute to the liberty of man and the happiness of mankind, conceived, in the year 1785, the project of purchasing a settlement at Cayenne, and to divide it among the blacks by whom it was cultivated and in whose favour the proprietor renounced for himself and his descendants all benefit whatever. He had interested in this noble enterprise the priests of the Mission of the Holy Ghost, who themselves possessed lands in French Guiana. A letter from Marshal de Castries, dated 6th June, 1785, proves that the unfortunate Louis XVI, extending his beneficent intentions to the blacks and free men of colour, had ordered similar experiments to be made at the expense of Government. M. de Richeprey, who was appointed by M. de Lafayette to superintend the partition of the lands among the blacks, died from the effects of the climate at Cayenne.)

The Conquest on the continent of Spanish America and the slave-trade in the West Indies, in Brazil, and in the southern parts of the United States, have brought together the most heterogeneous elements of population. This strange mixture of Indians, whites, negroes, mestizos, mulattoes and zambos is accompanied by all the perils which violent and disorderly passion can engender, at those critical periods when society, shaken to its very foundations, begins a new era. At those junctures, the odious principle of the Colonial System, that of security, founded on the hostility of castes, and prepared during ages, has burst forth with violence. Fortunately the number of blacks has been so inconsiderable in the new states of the Spanish continent that, with the exception of the cruelties exercised in Venezuela, where the royalist party armed their slaves, the struggle between the independents and the soldiers of the mother country was not stained by the vengeance of the captive population. The free men of colour (blacks, mulattoes and mestizoes) have warmly espoused the national cause; and the copper-coloured race, in its timid distrust and passiveness, has taken no part in movements from which it must profit in spite of itself. The Indians, long before the revolution, were poor and free agriculturists; isolated by their language and manners they lived apart from the whites. If, in contempt of Spanish laws, the cupidity of the corregidores and the tormenting system of the missionaries often restricted their liberty, that state of vexatious oppression was far different from personal slavery like that of the slavery of the blacks, or of the vassalage of the peasantry in the Sclavonian part of Europe. It is the small number of blacks, it is the liberty of the aboriginal race, of which America has preserved more than eight millions and a half without mixture of foreign blood, that characterizes the ancient continental possessions of Spain, and renders their moral and political situation entirely different from that of the West Indies, where, by the disproportion between the free men and the slaves, the principles of the Colonial System have been developed with more energy. In the West Indian archipelago as in Brazil (two portions of America which contain near 3,200,000 slaves) the fear of [?] among the blacks, and the perils that surround the whites, have been hitherto the most powerful causes of the security of the mother countries and of the maintenance of the Portuguese dynasty. Can this security, from its nature, be of long duration? Does it justify the inertness of governments who neglect to remedy the evil while it is yet time? I doubt this. When, under the influence of extraordinary circumstances, alarm is mitigated, when countries in which the accumulation of slaves has produced in society the fatal mixture of heterogeneous elements may be led, perhaps unwillingly, into an exterior struggle, civil dissensions will break forth in all their violence and European families, innocent of an order of things which they have had no share in creating, will be exposed to the most imminent dangers.

We can never sufficiently praise the legislative wisdom of the new republics of Spanish America which, since their birth, have been seriously intent on the total extinction of slavery. That vast portion of the earth has, in this respect, an immense advantage over the southern part of the United States, where the whites, during the struggle with England, established liberty for their own profit, and where the slave population, to the number of 1,600,000, augments still more rapidly than the whites.* (* In 1769, forty-six years before the declaration of the Congress at Vienna, and thirty-eight years before the abolition of the slave-trade, decreed in London and at Washington, the Chamber of Representatives of Massachusetts had declared itself against "the unnatural and unwarrantable custom of enslaving mankind." See Walsh's Appeal to the United States, 1819 page 312. The Spanish writer, Avendano, was perhaps the first who declaimed forcibly not only against the slave-trade, abhorred even by the Afghans (Elphinstone's Journey to Cabul page 245), but against slavery in general, and "all the iniquitous sources of colonial wealth." Thesaurus Ind. tom. 1 tit. 9 cap. 2.) If civilization, instead of extending, were to change its place; if, after great and deplorable convulsions in Europe, America, between Cape Hatteras and the Missouri, were to become the principal seat of the light of Christianity, what a spectacle would be presented by that centre of civilization, where, in the sanctuary of liberty, we could attend a sale of negroes after the death of a master, and hear the sobbings of parents who are separated from their children! Let us hope that the generous principles which have so long animated the legislatures of the northern parts of the United States will extend by degrees southward and towards those western regions where, by the effect of an imprudent and fatal law, slavery and its iniquities have passed the chain of the Alleghenies and the banks of the Mississippi: let us hope that the force of public opinion, the progress of knowledge, the softening of manners, the legislation of the new continental republics and the great and happy event of the recognition of Hayti by the French government, will, either from motives of prudence and fear, or from more noble and disinterested sentiments, exercise a happy influence on the amelioration of the state of the blacks in the rest of the West Indies, in the Carolinas, Guiana, and Brazil.

In order to slacken gradually the bonds of slavery the laws against the slave-trade must be most strictly enforced, and punishments inflicted for their infringement; mixed tribunals must be formed, and the right of search exercised with equitable reciprocity. It is melancholy to learn that, owing to the culpable indifference of some of the governments of Europe, the slave-trade (more cruel from having become more secret) has dragged from Africa, within ten years, almost the same number of negroes as before 1807; but we must not from this fact infer the inutility, or, as the secret partisans of slavery assert, the practical impossibility of the beneficent measures adopted first by Denmark, the United States and Great Britain, and successively by all the rest of Europe. What passed from 1807 till the time when France recovered possession of her ancient colonies, and what passes in our days in nations whose governments sincerely desire the abolition of the slave-trade and its abominable practices, proves the fallacy of this conclusion. Besides, is it reasonable to compare numerically the importation of slaves in 1825 and in 1806? With the activity prevailing in every enterprise of industry, what an increase would the importation of negroes have taken in the English West Indies and the southern provinces of the United States if the slave-trade, entirely free, had continued to supply new slaves, and had rendered the care of their preservation and the increase of the old population, superfluous? Can we believe that the English trade would have been limited, as in 1806, to the sale of 53,000 slaves; and that of the United States, to the sale of 15,000? It is pretty well ascertained that the English islands received in the 106 years preceding 1786 more than 2,130,000 negroes, forcibly carried from the coast of Africa. At the period of the French revolution, the slave-trade furnished (according to Mr. Norris) 74,000 slaves annually, of which the English colonies absorbed 38,000, and the French 20,000. It would be easy to prove that the whole of the West Indian archipelago, which now comprises scarcely 2,400,000 negroes and mulattoes (free and slaves), received, from 1670 to 1825, nearly 5,000,000 of Africans. These revolting calculations respecting the consumption of the human species do not include the number of unfortunate slaves who have perished in the passage or have been thrown into the sea as damaged merchandize.* (* Volume 7 page 151. See also the eloquent speech of the Duke de Broglie, March 28th, 1822 pages 40, 43 and 96.) By how many thousands must we have augmented the loss, if the two nations most distinguished for ardour and intelligence in the development of commerce and industry, the English and the inhabitants of the United States, had continued, from 1807, to carry on the trade as freely as some other nations of Europe? Sad experience has proved how much the treaties of the 15th July, 1814, and of the 22nd January, 1815, by which Spain and Portugal reserved to themselves the trade in blacks during a certain number of years, have been fatal to humanity.

The local authorities, or rather the rich proprietors, forming the Ayuntamiento of the Havannah, the Consulado and the Patriotic Society, have on several occasions shown a disposition favourable to the amelioration of the condition of the slaves.* (* Dicen nuestros Indios del Rio Caura cuando se confiesan que ya entienden que es pecado corner carne humana; pero piden qua se les permita desacostumbrarse poco a poco; quieren comer la carne humana una vez al mes, despues cada tres meses, hasta qua sin sentirlo pierdan la costumbre. Cartas de los Rev Padres Observantes Number 7 manuscript. [Our negroes of the River Caura say, when they confess, that they know it is sinful to eat human flesh; they beg to be permitted to break themselves of the custom, little by little: they wish to eat human flesh once a month, and afterwards once every three months, until they feel they have cured themselves of the practice.]) If the government of the mother-country, instead of dreading the least appearance of innovation, had taken advantage of those propitious circumstances, and of the ascendancy of some men of abilities over their countrymen, the state of society would have undergone progressive changes; and in our days, the inhabitants of the island of Cuba would have enjoyed some of the improvements which have been under discussion for the space of thirty years. The movement at Saint Domingo in 1790 and those which took place in Jamaica in 1794 caused so great an alarm among the haciendados of the island of Cuba that in a Junta economica it was warmly debated what measure could be adopted to secure the tranquillity of the country. Regulations were made respecting the pursuit of fugitive slaves,* which, till then, had given rise to the most revolting excesses (* Reglamento sobre los Negros Cimmarrones de 26 de Dec. de 1796. Before the year 1788 there were great numbers of fugitive negroes (cimmarones) in the mountains of Jaruco, where they were sometimes apalancados, that is, where several of those unfortunate creatures formed small intrenchments for their common defence by heaping up trunks of trees. The maroon negroes, born in Africa (bozales), are easily taken; for the greater number, in the vain hope of finding their native land, march day and night in the direction of the east. When taken they are so exhausted by fatigue and hunger that they are only saved by giving them, during several days, very small quantities of soup. The creole maroon negroes conceal themselves by day in the woods and steal provisions during the night. Till 1790, the right of taking the fugitive negroes belonged only to the Alcalde mayor provincial, an hereditary office in the family of the Count de Bareto. At present any of the inhabitants can seize the maroons and the proprietor of the slave pays four piastres per head, besides the food. If the name of the master is not known, the Consulado employs the maroon negro in the public works. This man-hunting, which, at Hayti and Jamaica, has given so much fatal celebrity to the dogs of Cuba, was carried on in the most cruel manner before the regulation which I have mentioned above.); it was proposed to augment the number of negresses on the sugar estates, to direct more attention to the education of children, to diminish the introduction of African negroes, to bring white planters from the Canaries, and Indian planters from Mexico, to establish country schools with the view of improving the manners of the lower class, and to mitigate slavery in an indirect way. These propositions had not the desired effect. The junta opposed every system of immigration, and the majority of the proprietors, indulging their old illusions of security, would not restrain the slave-trade when the high price of the produce gave a hope of extraordinary profit. It would, however, be unjust not to acknowledge in this struggle between private interests and the views of wise policy, the desires and the principles manifested by some inhabitants of the island of Cuba, either in their own name or in the name of some rich and powerful corporations. "The humanity of our legislation," says M. d'Arango nobly,* in a memoir written in 1796 (* Informe sobre negros fugitives (de 9 de Junio de 1769), par Don Francisco de Arango y Pareno, Oidor honorario y syndico del Consulado.), "grants the slave four rights (quatro consuelos) which somewhat assuage his sufferings and which have always been refused him by a foreign policy. These rights are, the choice of a master less severe* (* The right of buscar amo. When a slave has found a new master who will purchase him, he may quit the master of whom he has to complain; such is the sense and spirit of a law, beneficent, though often eluded, as are all the laws that protect the slaves. In the hope of enjoying the privilege of buscar amo, the blacks often address to the travellers they meet, a question, which in civilized Europe, where a vote or an opinion is sometimes sold, is more equivocally expressed; Quiere Vm comprarme? [Will you buy me, Sir?]); the privilege of marrying according to his own inclination; the possibility of purchasing his liberty* by his labour (* A slave in the Spanish colonies ought, according to law, to be estimated at the lowest price; this estimate, at the time of my journey, was, according to the locality, from 200 to 380 piastres. In 1825 the price of an adult negro at the island of Cuba, was 450 piastres. In 1788 the French trade furnished a negro for 280 to 300 piastres. A slave among the Greeks cost 300 to 600 drachmes (54 to 108 piastres), when the day-labourer was paid one-tenth of a piastre. While the Spanish laws and institutions favour manumission in every way, the master, in the other islands, pays the fiscal, for every freed slave, five to seven hundred piastres!), and of paying, with an acquired property, for the liberty of his wife and children.* (* What a contrast is observable between the humanity of the most ancient Spanish laws concerning slavery, and the traces of barbarism found in every page of the Black Code and in some of the provincial laws of the English islands! The laws of Barbadoes, made in 1686, and those of Bermuda, in 1730, decreed that the master who killed his negro in chastising him, could not even be sued, while the master who killed his slave wilfully should pay ten pounds sterling to the royal treasury. A law of saint Christopher's, of March 11th, 1784, begins with these words: "Whereas some persons have of late been guilty of cutting off and depriving slaves of their ears, we order that whoever shall extirpate an eye, tear out the tongue, or cut off the nose of a slave, shall pay five hundred pounds sterling, and be condemned to six months imprisonment." It is unnecessary to add that these English laws, which were in force thirty or forty years ago, are abolished and superseded by laws more humane. Why can I not say as much of the legislation of the French islands, where six young slaves, suspected of an intention to escape, were condemned, by a sentence pronounced in 1815, to have their hamstrings cut!) Notwithstanding the wisdom and mildness of Spanish legislation, to how many excesses the slave is exposed in the solitude of a plantation or a farm, where a rude capatez, armed with a cutlass (machete) and a whip, exercises absolute authority with impunity! The law neither limits the punishment of the slave, nor the duration of labour; nor does it prescribe the quality and quantity of his food.* (* A royal cedula of May 31st, 1789 had attempted to regulate the food and clothing; but that cedula was never executed.) It permits the slave, it is true, to have recourse to a magistrate, in order that he may enjoin the master to be more equitable; but this recourse is nearly illusory; for there exists another law according to which every slave may be arrested and sent back to his master who is found without permission at the distance of a league and a half from the plantation to which he belongs. How can a slave, whipped, exhausted by hunger, and excess of labour, find means to appear before the magistrate? and if he did reach him, how would he be defended against a powerful master who calls the hired accomplices of his cruelties as witnesses."

In conclusion I may quote a very remarkable extract from the Representacion del Ayuntamiento, Consulado, y Sociedad patriotica, dated July 20th, 1811. "In all that relates to the changes to be introduced in the captive class, there is much less question of our fears on the diminution of agricultural wealth, than of the security of the whites, so easy to be compromised by imprudent measures. Besides, those who accuse the consulate and the municipality of the Havannah of obstinate resistance forget that, in the year 1799, the same authorities proposed fruitlessly that the government would divert attention to the state of the blacks in the island of Cuba (del arreglo de este delicado asunto.) Further, we are far from adopting the maxims which the nations of Europe, who boast of their civilization, have regarded as incontrovertible; that, for instance, without slaves there could be no colonies. We declare, on the contrary, that without slaves, and even without blacks, colonies might have existed, and that the whole difference would have been comprised in more or less profit, by the more or less rapid increase of the products. But such being our firm persuasion, we ought also to remind your Majesty that a social organization into which slavery has been introduced as an element cannot be changed with inconsiderate precipitation. We are far from denying that it was an evil contrary to all moral principles to drag slaves from one continent to another; that it was a political error not to have listened to the remonstrances of Ovando, the governor of Hispaniola, who complained of the introduction and accumulation of so many slaves in proximity with a small number of free men; but, these evils being now inveterate, we ought to avoid rendering our position and that of our slaves worse, by the employment of violent means. What we ask of your Majesty is conformable to the wish proclaimed by one of the most ardent protectors of the rights of humanity, by the most determined enemy of slavery; we desire, like him, that the civil laws should deliver us at the same time from abuses and dangers."

On the solution of this problem depends, in the West India Islands only, and exclusive of the republic of Hayti, the security of 875,000 free men (whites and men of colour* (* Namely: 452,000 whites, of which 342,000 are in the two Spanish Islands (Cuba and Porto Rico), and 423,000 free men of colour, mulattoes, and blacks.)) and the mitigation of the sufferings of 1,150,000 slaves. It is evident that these objects can never be attained by peaceful means, without the concurrence of the local authorities, either colonial assemblies, or meetings of proprietors designated by less dreaded names, by the old parent state. The direct influence of the authorities is indispensable; and it is a fatal error to believe that we may leave it to time to act. Time will act simultaneously on the slaves, on the relations between the islands and the inhabitants of the continent, and on events which cannot be controlled, when they have been waited for with the inaction of apathy. Wherever slavery is long established, the increase of civilization solely has less influence on the treatment of slaves than many are disposed to admit. The civilization of a nation seldom extends to a great number of individuals; and does not reach those who in the plantations are in immediate contact with the blacks. I have known very humane proprietors shrink from the difficulties that arise in the great plantations; they hesitate to disturb established order, to make innovations, which, if not simultaneous, not supported by the legislation, or (which would be more powerful) by public feeling, would fail in their end, and perhaps aggravate the wretchedness of those whose sufferings they were meant to alleviate. These considerations retard the good that might be effected by men animated by the most benevolent intentions, and who deplore the barbarous institutions which have devolved to them by inheritance. They well know that to produce an essential change in the state of the slaves, to lead them progressively to the enjoyment of liberty, requires a firm will on the part of the local authorities, the concurrence of wealthy and enlightened citizens, and a general plan in which all chances of disorder and means of repression are wisely calculated. Without this community of action and effort slavery, with its miseries and excesses, will survive as it did in ancient Rome,* along with elegance of manners, progressive intelligence, and all the charms of the civilization which its presence accuses, and which it threatens to destroy, whenever the hour of vengeance shall arrive. (* The argument deduced from the civilization of Rome and Greece in favour of slavery is much in vogue in the West Indies, where sometimes we find it adorned with all the graces of erudition. Thus, in speeches delivered in 1795, in the Legislative Assembly of Jamaica, it was alleged that from the example of elephants having been employed in the wars of Pyrrhus and Hannibal, it could not be blamable to have brought a hundred dogs and forty hunters from the island of Cuba to hunt the maroon negroes. Bryan Edwards volume 1 page 570.) Civilization, or slow national demoralization, merely prepare the way for future events; but to produce great changes in the social state there must be a coincidence of certain events, the period of the occurrence of which cannot be calculated. Such is the complication of human destiny, that the same cruelties which tarnished the conquest of America have been re-enacted before our own eyes in times which we suppose to be characterized by vast progress, information and general refinement of manners. Within the interval embraced by the span of one life we have seen the reign of terror in France, the expedition to St. Domingo,* (* The North American Review for 1821 Number 30 contains the following passage: Conflicts with slaves fighting for their freedom are not only dreadful on account of the atrocities to which they give rise on both sides; but even after freedom has been gained they help to confound every sentiment of justice and injustice. Some planters are condemning to death all the male negro population above six years of age. They affirm that those who have not borne arms will be contaminated by the example of those who have been fighting. This merciless act is the consequence of the result of the continued misfortunes of the colonies. Charault, Reflexions sur Saint Domingue.), the political re-action in Naples and Spain, I may also add, the massacres of Chio, Ipsara and Missolonghi, the work of the barbarians of Eastern Europe, which the civilized nations of the north and west did not deem it their duty to prevent. In slave countries, where the effect of long habit tends to legitimize institutions the most adverse to justice, it is vain to count on the influence of information, of intellectual culture, or refinement of manners, except in as much as all those benefits accelerate the impulse given by governments and facilitate the execution of measures once adopted. Without the directive action of governments and legislatures a peaceful revolution is a thing not to be hoped for. The danger becomes the more imminent when a general inquietude pervades the public mind; when amidst the political dissensions of neighbouring countries the faults and the duties of governments have been revealed: in such cases tranquillity can be restored only by a ruling authority which, in the noble consciousness of its power and right, sways events by entering itself on the career of improvement.

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Part 1 of 6

CHAPTER 3.32. GEOGNOSTIC DESCRIPTION OF SOUTH AMERICA, NORTH OF THE RIVER AMAZON, AND EAST OF THE MERIDIAN OF THE SIERRA NEVADA DE MERIDA.

The object of this memoir is to concentrate the geological observations which I collected during my journeys among the mountains of New Andalusia and Venezuela, on the banks of the Orinoco and in the Llanos of Barcelona, Calabozo and the Apure; consequently, from the coast of the Caribbean Sea to the valley of the Amazon, between 2 and 10 1/2 degrees north latitude.

The extent of country which I traversed in different directions was more than 15,400 square leagues. It has already formed the subject of a geological sketch, traced hastily on the spot, after my return from the Orinoco, and published in 1801. At that period the direction of the Cordillera on the coast of Venezuela and the existence of the Cordillera of Parime were unknown in Europe. No measure of altitude had been attempted beyond the province of Quito; no rock of South America had been named; there existed no description of the superposition of rocks in any region of the tropics. Under these circumstances an essay tending to prove the identity of the formations of the two hemispheres could not fail to excite interest. The study of the collections which I brought back with me, and four years of journeying in the Andes, have enabled me to rectify my first views, and to extend an investigation which, by reason of its novelty, had been favourably received. That the most remarkable geological relations may be the more easily seized, I shall treat aphoristically, in different sections, the configuration of the soil, the general division of the land, the direction and inclination of the beds and the nature of the primitive, intermediary, secondary and tertiary rocks.

SECTION 1.

Configuration of the Country.
Inequalities of the Soil.
Chains and Groups of Mountains.
Divisionary Ridges.
Plains or Llanos.

South America is one of those great triangular masses which form the three continental parts of the southern hemisphere of the globe. In its exterior configuration it resembles Africa more than Australia. The southern extremities of the three continents are so placed that, in sailing from the Cape of Good Hope (latitude 33 degrees 55 minutes) to Cape Horn (latitude 55 degrees 58 minutes), and doubling the southern point of Van Diemen's Land (latitude 43 degrees 38 minutes), we see those lands stretching out towards the south pole in proportion as we advance eastward. A fourth part of the 571,000 square sea leagues* (* Almost double the extent of Europe.) which South America comprises is covered with mountains distributed in chains or gathered together in groups. The other parts are plains forming long uninterrupted bands covered with forests or gramina, flatter than in Europe, and rising progressively, at the distance of 300 leagues from the coast, between 30 and 170 toises above the level of the sea. The most considerable mountainous chain in South America extends from south to north according to the greatest dimension of the continent; it is not central like the European chains, nor far removed from the sea-shore, like the Himalaya and the Hindoo-Koosh; but it is thrown towards the western extremity of the continent, almost on the coast of the Pacific Ocean. Referring to the profile which I have given* of the configuration of South America (* Map of Columbia according to the astronomical observations of Humboldt by A.H. Brue 1823.), in the latitude of Chimborazo and Grand Para, across the plains of the Amazon, we find the land low towards the east, in an inclined plane, at an angle of less than 25 seconds on a length of 600 leagues; and if, in the ancient state of our planet, the Atlantic Ocean, by some extraordinary cause, ever rose to 1100 feet above its present level (a height one-third less than the table-lands of Spain and Bavaria), the waves must, in the province of Jaen de Bracamoros, have broken upon the rocks that bound the eastern declivity of the Cordilleras of the Andes. The rising of this ridge is so inconsiderable compared to the whole continent that its breadth in the parallel of Cape Saint Roche is 1400 times greater than the average height of the Andes.

We distinguish in the mountainous part of South America a chain and three groups of mountains, namely, the Cordillera of the Andes, which the geologist may trace without interruption from Cape Pilares, in the western part of the Straits of Magellan, to the promontory of Paria opposite the island of Trinidad; the insulated group of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta; the group of the mountains of the Orinoco, or of La Parime; and that of the mountains of Brazil. The Sierra de Santa Marta being nearly in the meridian of the Cordilleras of Peru and New Grenada, the snowy summits descried by navigators in passing the mouth of the Rio Magdalena are commonly mistaken for the northern extremity of the Andes. I shall soon prove that the colossal group of the Sierra de Santa Marta is almost entirely separate from the mountains of Ocana and Pamplona which belong to the eastern Cordillera of New Grenada. The hot plains through which runs the Rio Cesar, and which extend towards the valley of Upar, separate the Sierra Nevada from the Paramo de Cacota, south of Pamplona. The ridge which divides the waters between the gulf of Maracaibo and the Rio Magdalena is in the plain on the east of the Laguna Zapatoza. If, on the one hand, the Sierra de Santa Marta has been erroneously considered (on account of its eternal snow, and its longitude) to be a continuation of the Cordillera of the Andes, on the other hand, the connexion of that same Cordillera with the coast mountains of the provinces of Cumana and Caracas has not been recognized. The littoral chain of Venezuela, of which the different ranges form the Montana de Paria, the isthmus of Araya, the Silla of Caracas and the gneiss-granite mountains north and south of the lake of Valencia, is joined between Porto Cabello, San Felipe and Tocuyo to the Paramos de las Rosas and Niquitao, which form the north-east extremity of the Sierra de Merida, and the eastern Cordillera of the Andes of New Grenada. It is sufficient here to mention this connexion, so important in a geological point of view; for the denominations of Andes and Cordilleras being altogether in disuse as applied to the chains of mountains extending from the eastern gulf of Maracaibo to the promontory of Paria, we shall continue to designate those chains (stretching from west to east) by the names of littoral chain, or coast-chain of Venezuela.

Of the three insulated groups of mountains, that is to say, those which are not branches of the Cordillera of the Andes and its continuation towards the shore of Venezuela, one is on the north, and the other two on the west of the Andes: that on the north is the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta; the two others are the Sierra de la Parime, between 4 and 8 degrees of north latitude, and the mountains of Brazil, between 15 and 28 degrees south latitude. This singular distribution of great inequalities of soil produces three plains or basins, comprising a surface of 420,600 square leagues, or four-fifths of all South America, east of the Andes. Between the coast-chain of Venezuela and the group of the Parime, the plains of the Apure and the Lower Orinoco extend; between the group of Parime and the Brazil mountains are the plains of the Amazon, of the Rio Negro and the Madeira, and between the groups of Brazil and the southern extremity of the continent are the plains of Rio de la Plata and of Patagonia. As the group of the Parime in Spanish Guiana, and of the Brazil mountains (or of Minas Geraes and Goyaz), do not join the Cordillera of the Andes of New Grenada and Upper Peru towards the west, the three plains of the Lower Orinoco, the Amazon, and the Rio de la Plata, are connected by land-straits of considerable breadth. These straits are also plains stretching from north to south, and traversed by ridges imperceptible to the eye but forming divortia aquarum. These ridges (and this remarkable phenomenon has hitherto escaped the attention of geologists) are situated between 2 and 3 degrees north latitude, and 16 and 18 degrees south latitude. The first ridge forms the partition of the waters which fall into the Lower Orinoco on the north-east, and into the Rio Negro and the Amazon on the south and south-east; the second ridge divides the tributary streams of the right bank of the Amazon and the Rio de la Plata. These ridges, of which the existence is only manifested, as in Volhynia, by the course of the waters, are parallel with the coast-chain of Venezuela; they present, as it were, two systems of counter-slopes partially developed, in the direction from west to east, between the Guaviare and the Caqueta, and between the Mamori and the Pilcomayo. It is also worthy of remark that in the southern hemisphere the Cordillera of the Andes sends an immense counterpoise eastward in the promontory of the Sierra Nevada de Cochabamba, whence begins the ridge stretching between the tributary streams of the Madeira and the Paraguay to the lofty group of the mountains of Brazil or Minas Geraes. Three transversal chains (the coast-mountains of Venezuela, of the Orinoco or Parime, and the Brazil mountains) tend to join the longitudinal chain (the Andes) either by an intermediary group (between the lake of Valencia and Tocuyo), or by ridges formed by the intersection of counter-slopes in the plains. The two extremities of the three Llanos which communicate by land-straits, the Llanos of the Lower Orinoco, the Amazon, and the Rio de la Plata or of Buenos Ayres, are steppes covered with gramina, while the intermediary Llano (that of the Amazon) is a thick forest. With respect to the two land-straits forming bands directed from north to south (from the Apure to Caqueta across the Provincia de los Llanos, and the sources of the Mamori to Rio Pilcomayo, across the province of Mocos and Chiquitos) they are bare and grassy steppes like the plains of Caracas and Buenos Ayres.

In the immense extent of land east of the Andes, comprehending more than 480,000 square sea leagues, of which 92,000 are a mountainous tract of country, no group rises to the region of perpetual snow; none even attains the height of 1400 toises. This lowering of the mountains in the eastern region of the New Continent extends as far as 60 degrees north latitude; while in the western part, on the prolongation of the Cordillera of the Andes, the highest Summits rise in Mexico (latitude 18 degrees 59 minutes) to 2770 toises, and in the Rocky Mountains (latitude 37 to 40 degrees) to 1900 toises. The insulated group of the Alleghenies, corresponding in its eastern position and direction with the Brazil group, does not exceed 1040 toises.* (* The culminant point of the Alleghenies is Mount Washington in New Hampshire, latitude 44 1/4 degrees. According to Captain Partridge its height is 6634 English feet.) The lofty summits, therefore, thrice exceeding the height of Mont Blanc, belong only to the longitudinal chain which bounds the basin of the Pacific Ocean, from 55 degrees south to 68 degrees north latitude, that is to say, the Cordillera of the Andes. The only insulated group that can be compared with the snowy summits of the equinoctial Andes, and which attains the height of nearly 3000 toises, is the Sierra de Santa Marta; it is not situated on the east of the Cordilleras, but between the prolongation of two of their branches, those of Merida and Veragua. The Cordilleras, where they bound the Caribbean Sea, in that part which we designate by the name of Coast Chain of Venezuela, do not attain the extraordinary height (2500 toises) which they reach in their prolongation towards Chita and Merida. Considering separately the groups of the east, those of the shore of Venezuela, of the Parime, and Brazil, we see their height diminish from north to south. The highest summits of each group are the Silla de Caracas (1350 toises), the peak of Duida (1300 toises), the Itacolumi and the Itambe* (900 toises). (* According to the measure of MM. Spix and Martius the Itambe de Villa de Principe is 5590 feet high.) But, as I have elsewhere observed, it would be erroneous to judge the height of a chain of mountains solely from that of the most lofty summits. The peak of the Himalayas, accurately measured, is 676 toises higher than Chimborazo (* The Peak Iewahir, latitude 30 degrees 22 minutes 19 seconds; longitude 77 degrees 35 minutes 7 seconds east of Paris, height 4026 toises, according to MM. Hodgson and Herbert.); Chimborazo is 900 toises higher than Mont Blanc; and Mont Blanc 653 toises higher than the peak of Nethou.* (* This peak, called also peak of Anethou or Malahita, or eastern peak of Maladetta, is the highest summit of the Pyrenees. It rises 1787 toises and consequently exceeds Mont Perdu by 40 toises.) These differences do not furnish the relative average heights of the Himalayas, the Andes, the Alps and the Pyrenees, that is, the height of the back of the mountains, on which arise the peaks, needles, pyramids, or rounded domes. It is that part of the back where passes are made, which furnishes a precise measure of the minimum of the height of the great chains. In comparing the whole of my measures with those of Moorcroft, Webb, Hodgson, Saussure and Ramond, I estimate the average height of the top of the Himalayas, between the meridians of 75 and 77 degrees, at 2450 toises; the Andes* (at Peru, Quito and New Grenada), at 1850 toises (* In the passage of Quindiu, between the valley of the Magdalena and that of the Rio Cauca, I found the culminant point (la Garita del Parama) to be 1798 toises; it is however, regarded as one of the least elevated. The passages of the Andes of Guanacas, Guamani and Micuipampa, are respectively 2300, 1713, and 1817 toises above sea-level. Even in 33 degrees south latitude the road across the Andes between Mendoza and Valparaiso is 1987 toises high. I do not mention the Col de l'Assuay, where I passed, near la Ladera de Cadlud, on a ridge 2428 toises high, because it is a passage on a transverse ridge joining two parallel chains.); the summit of the Alps and Pyrenees at 1150 toises. The difference of the mean height of the Cordilleras (between 5 degrees north and 2 degrees south latitude) and the Swiss Alps, is consequently 200 toises less than the difference of their loftiest summits; and in comparing the passes of the Alps, we see that their average height is nearly the same, although peak Nethou is 600 toises lower than Mont Blanc and Mont Rosa. Between the Himalaya* (* The passes of the Himalaya that lead from Chinese Tartary into Hindostan (Nitee-Ghaut, Bamsaru, etc.) are from 2400 to 2700 toises high.) and the Andes, on the contrary, (considering those chains in the limits which I have just indicated), the difference between the mean height of the ridges and that of the loftiest summits presents nearly the same proportions.

Taking an analogous view of the groups of mountains at the east of the Andes, we find the average height of the coast-chain of Venezuela to be 750 toises; of the Sierra Parime, 500 toises; of the Brazilian group, 400 toises; whence it follows that the mountains of the eastern region of South America between the tropics are, when compared to the medium elevation of the Andes, in the relation of one to three.

The following is the result of some numerical statements, the comparison of which affords more precise ideas on the structure of mountains in general.* (* The Cols or passes indicate the minimum of the height to which the ridge of the mountains lowers in a particular country. Now, looking at the principal passes of the Alps of Switzerland (Col Terret, 1191 toises, Mont Cenis, 1060 toises; Great Saint Bernard, 1246 toises; Simplon, 1029 toises; and on the neck of the Pyrenees, Benasque, 1231 toises; Pinede, 1291 toises; Gavarnic, 1197 toises; Cavarere, 1151 toises; it would be difficult to affirm that the Pyrenees are lower than the average height of the Swiss Alps.)

TABLE OF HEIGHTS OF VARIOUS RANGES.

COLUMN 1 : NAMES OF THE CHAINS OF MOUNTAINS. COLUMN 2 : THE HIGHEST SUMMITS IN TOISES. COLUMN 3 : MEAN HEIGHT OF THE RIDGE IN TOISES. COLUMN 4 : PROPORTION OF THE MEAN HEIGHT OF THE RIDGES TO THAT A THE HIGHEST SUMMITS.

Himalayas (between north latitude : 4026 : 2450 : 1 : 1.6. 30 degrees 18 minutes and 31 degrees 53 minutes, and longitude 75 degrees 23 minutes and 77 degrees 38 minutes)

Cordillera of the Andes (between : 3350 : 1850 : 1 : 1.8. latitude 5 and 2 degrees south)

Alps of Switzerland : 2450 : 1150 : 1 : 2.1.

Pyrenees : 1787 : 1150 : 1 : 1.5.

Littoral Chain of Venezuela : 1350 : 750 : 1 : 1.8.

Group of the Mountains of the Parime : 1300 : 500 : 1 : 2.6.

Group of the Mountains of Brazil : 900 : 500 : 1 : 2.3.

If we distinguish among the mountains those which rise sporadically, and form small insulated systems,* (* As the groups of the Canaries, the Azores, the Sandwich Islands, the Monts-Dores, and the Euganean mountains.) and those that make part of a continued chain,* (* The Himalayas, the Alps, and the Andes.) we find that, notwithstanding the immense height* of the summits of some insulated systems (* Among the insulated systems, or sporadic mountains, Mowna-Roa is generally regarded as the most elevated summit of the Sandwich Islands. Its height is computed at 2500 toises, and yet at some seasons it is entirely free from snow. An exact measure of this summit, situated in very frequented latitudes, has for 25 years been desired in vain by naturalists and geologists.), the culminant points of the whole globe belong to continuous chains—to the Cordilleras of Central Asia and South America.

In that part of the Andes with which I am best acquainted, between 8 degrees south latitude and 21 degrees north latitude, all the colossal summits are of trachyte. It may almost be admitted as a general rule that whenever the mass of mountains rises in that region of the tropics much above the limit of perpetual snow (2300 to 2470 toises), the rocks commonly called primitive (for instance, gneiss-granite or mica-slate) disappear, and the summits are of trachyte or trappean-porphyry. I know only a few rare exceptions to this law, and they occur in the Cordilleras of Quito where the Nevados of Conderasto and Cuvillan, situated opposite to the trachytic Chimborazo, are composed of mica-slate and contain veins of sulphuret of silver. Thus in the groups of detached mountains which rise abruptly from the plains the loftiest summits, such as Mowna-Roa, the Peak of Teneriffe, Etna and the Peak of the Azores, present only recent volcanic rocks. It would, however, be an error to extend that law to every other continent, and to admit, as a general rule, that, in every zone, the greatest elevations have produced trachytic domes: gneiss-granite and mica-slate constitute the summits of the ridge, in the almost insulated group of the Sierra Nevada of Grenada and the Peak of Malhacen,* (* This peak, according to the survey of M. Clemente Roxas, is 1826 toises above the level of the sea, consequently 39 toises higher than the loftiest summit of the Pyrenees (the granitic peak of Nethou) and 83 toises lower than the trachytic peak of Teneriffe. The Sierra Nevada of Grenada forms a system of mountains of mica-slate, passing to gneiss and clay-slate, and containing shelves of euphotide and greenstone.), as they also do in the continuous chain of the Alps, the Pyrenees and probably the Himalayas.* (* If we may judge from the specimens of rocks collected in the gorges and passes of the Himalayas or rolled down by the torrents.) These phenomena, discordant in appearance, are possibly all effects of the same cause: granite, gneiss, and all the so-styled primitive Neptunian mountains, may possibly owe their origin to volcanic forces, as well as the trachytes; but to forces of which the action resembles less the still-burning volcanoes of our days, ejecting lava, which at the moment of its eruption comes immediately into contact with the atmospheric air; but it is not here my purpose to discuss this great theoretic question.

After having examined the general structure of South America according to considerations of comparative geology, I shall proceed to notice separately the different systems of mountains and plains, the mutual connection of which has so powerful an influence on the state of industry and commerce in the nations of the New Continent. I shall give only a general view of the systems situated beyond the limits of the region which forms the special object of this memoir. Geology being essentially founded on the study of the relations of juxtaposition and place, I could not treat of the littoral chain and the chain of the Parime separately, without touching on the other systems south and west of Venezuela.

A. SYSTEMS OF MOUNTAINS.

A.1. CORDILLERAS OF THE ANDES.

This is the most continuous, the longest, the most uniform in its direction from south to north and north-north-west, of any chain of the globe. It approaches the north and south poles at unequal distances of from 22 to 33 degrees. Its development is from 2800 to 3000 leagues (20 to a degree), a length equal to the distance from Cape Finisterre in Galicia to the north-east cape (Tschuktschoi-Noss) of Asia. Somewhat less than one half of this chain belongs to South America, and runs along its western shores. North of the isthmus of Cupica and of Panama, after an immense lowering, it assumes the appearance of a nearly central ridge, forming a rocky dyke that joins the great continent of North America to the southern continent. The low lands on the east of the Andes of Guatimala and New Spain appear to have been overwhelmed by the ocean and now form the bottom of the Caribbean Sea. As the continent beyond the parallel of Florida again widens towards the east, the Cordilleras of Durango and New Mexico, as well as the Rocky Mountains, merely a continuation of those Cordilleras, appear to be thrown still further westward, that is, towards the coast of the Pacific Ocean; but they still remain eight or ten times more remote from it than in the southern hemisphere. We may consider as the two extremities of the Andes, the rock or granitic island of Diego Ramirez, south of Cape Horn, and the mountains lying at the mouth of Mackenzie River (latitude 69 degrees, longitude 130 1/2 degrees), more than twelve degrees west of the greenstone mountains, known by the name of the Copper Mountains, visited by Captain Franklin. The colossal peak of Saint Elias and that of Mount Fairweather, in New Norfolk, do not, properly speaking, belong to the northern prolongation of the Cordilleras of the Andes, but to a parallel chain (the maritime Alps of the north-west coast), stretching towards the peninsula of California, and connected by transversal ridges with a mountainous land, between 45 and 53 degrees of latitude, with the Andes of New Mexico (Rocky Mountains). In South America the mean breadth of the Cordillera of the Andes is from 18 to 22 leagues.* (* The breadth of this immense chain is a phenomenon well worthy of attention. The Swiss Alps extend, in the Grisons and in the Tyrol, to a breadth of 36 and 40 leagues, both in the meridians of the lake at Como, the canton of Appenzell, and in the meridian of Bassano and Tegernsee.) It is only in the knots of the mountains, that is where the Cordillera is swelled by side-groups or divided into several chains nearly parallel, and reuniting at intervals, for instance, on the south of the lake of Titicaca, that it is more than 100 to 120 leagues broad, in a direction perpendicular to its axis. The Andes of South America bound the plains of the Orinoco, the Amazon, and the Rio de la Plata, on the west, like a rocky wall raised across a crevice 1300 leagues long, and stretching from south to north. This upheaved part (if I may be permitted to use an expression founded on a geological hypothesis) comprises a surface of 58,900 square leagues, between the parallel of Cape Pilesar and the northern Choco. To form an idea of the variety of rocks which this space may furnish for the observation of the traveller, we must recollect that the Pyrenees, according to the observations of M. Charpentier, occupy only 768 square sea leagues.

The name of Andes in the Quichua language (which wants the consonants d, f, and g) Antis, or Ante, appears to me to be derived from the Peruvian word anta, signifying copper or metal in general. Anta chacra signifies mine of copper; antacuri, copper mixed with gold; and puca anta, copper, or red metal. As the group of the Altai mountains* takes its name from the Turkish word altor or altyn (* Klaproth. Asia polyglotta page 211. It appears to me less probable that the tribe of the Antis gave its name to the mountains of Peru.), in the same manner the Cordilleras may have been termed "Copper-country," or Anti-suyu, on account of the abundance of that metal, which the Peruvians employed for their tools. The Inca Garcilasso, who was the son of a Peruvian princess, and who wrote the history of his native country in the first years of the conquest, gives no etymology of the name of the Andes. He only opposes Anti-suyu, or the region of summits covered with eternal snow (ritiseca), to the plains or Yuncas, that is, to the lower region of Peru. The etymology of the name of the largest mountain chain of the globe cannot be devoid of interest to the mineralogic geographer.

The structure of the Cordillera of the Andes, that is, its division into several chains nearly parallel, which are again joined by knots of mountains, is very remarkable. On our maps this structure is indicated but imperfectly; and what La Condamine and Bouguer merely guessed, during their long visit to the table-land of Quito, has been generalized and ill-interpreted by those who have described the whole chain according to the type of the equatorial Andes. The following is the most accurate information I could collect by my own researches and an active correspondence of twenty years with the inhabitants of Spanish America. The group of islands called Tierra del Fuego, in which the chain of the Andes begins, is a plain extending from Cape Espiritu Santo as far as the canal of San Sebastian. The country on the west of this canal, between Cape San Valentino and Cape Pilares, is bristled with granitic mountains covered (from the Morro de San Agueda to Cabo Redondo) with calcareous shells. Navigators have greatly exaggerated the height of the mountains of Tierra del Fuego, among which there appears to be a volcano still burning. M. de Churruca found the height of the western peak of Cape Pilares (latitude 52 degrees 45 minutes south) only 218 toises; even Cape Horn is probably not more than 500 toises* high. (* It is very distinctly seen at the distance of 60 miles, which, without calculating the effects of terrestrial refraction, would give it a height of 498 toises.) The plain extends on the northern shore of the Straits of Magellan, from the Virgin's Cape to Cabo Negro; at the latter the Cordilleras rise abruptly, and fill the whole space as far as Cape Victoria (latitude 52 degrees 22 minutes). The region between Cape Horn and the southern extremity of the continent somewhat resembles the origin of the Pyrenees between Cape Creux (near the gulf of Rosas) and the Col des Perdus. The height of the Patagonian chain is not known; it appears, however, that no summit south of the parallel of 48 degrees attains the elevation of the Canigou (1430 toises) which is near the eastern extremity of the Pyrenees. In that southern country, where the summers are so cold and short, the limit of eternal snow must lower at least as much as in the northern hemisphere, in Norway, in latitude 63 and 64 degrees; consequently below 800 toises. The great breadth, therefore, of the band of snow that envelopes these Patagonian summits, does not justify the idea which travellers form of their height in 40 degrees south latitude. As we advance towards the island of Chiloe, the Cordilleras draw near the coast; and the archipelago of Chonos or Huaytecas appears like the vestiges of an immense group of mountains overwhelmed by water. Narrow estuaries fill the lower valleys of the Andes, and remind us of the fjords of Norway and Greenland. We there find, running from south to north, the Nevados de Maca (latitude 45 degrees 19 minutes), of Cuptano (latitude 44 degrees 58 minutes), of Yanteles (latitude 43 degrees 52 minutes), of Corcovado, Chayapirca (latitude 42 degrees 52 minutes) and of Llebean (latitude 41 degrees 49 minutes). The peak of Cuptana rises like the peak of Teneriffe, from the bosom of the sea; but being scarcely visible at thirty-six or forty leagues distance, it cannot be more than 1500 toises high. Corcovado, situated on the coast of the continent, opposite the southern point of the island of Chiloe, appears to be more than 1950 toises high; it is perhaps the loftiest summit of the whole globe, south of the parallel of 42 degrees south latitude. On the north of San Carlos de Chiloe, in the whole length of Chile to the desert of Atacama, the low western regions not having been overwhelmed by floods, the Andes there appear farther from the coast. The Abbe Molina affirms that the Cordilleras of Chile form three parallel chains, of which the intermediary is the most elevated; but to prove that this division is far from general, it suffices to recollect the barometric survey made by MM. Bauza and Espinosa, in 1794, between Mendoza and Santiago de Chile. The road leading from one of those towns to the other, rises gradually from 700 to 1987 toises; and after passing the Col des Andes (La Cumbre, between the houses of refuge called Las Calaveras and Las Cuevas), it descends continually as far as the temperate valley of Santiago de Chile, of which the bottom is only 409 toises above the level of the sea. The same survey has made known the minimum of height at Chile of the lower limit of snow, in 33 degrees south latitude. The limit does not lower in summer to 2000 toises.* (* On the southern declivity of the Himalayas snow begins (3 degrees nearer the equator) at 1970 toises.) I think we may conclude according to the analogy of the Snowy Mountains of Mexico and southern Europe, and considering the difference of the summer temperature of the two hemispheres, that the real Nevadas at Chile, in the parallel of Valdivia (latitude 40 degrees), cannot be below 1300 toises; in Valparaiso (latitude 33 degrees) not lower than 2000 toises, and in that of Copiapo (latitude 27 degrees) not below 2200 toises of height. These are the limit-numbers, the minimum of elevation, which the ridge of the Andes of Chile must attain in different degrees of latitude, to enable their summits to rise above the line of perpetual snow. The numerical results which I have just marked and which are founded on the laws of distribution of heat, have still the same importance which they possessed at the time of my travels in America; for there does not exist in the immense extent of the Andes, from 8 degrees south latitude to the Straits of Magellan, one Nevada of which the height above the sea-level has been determined, either by a simple geometric measure, or by the combined means of barometric and geodesic measurements.

Between 33 and 18 degrees south latitude, between the parallels of Valparaiso and Arica, the Andes present towards the east three remarkable spurs, the Sierra de Cordova, the Sierra de Salta, and the Nevados de Cochabamba. Travellers partly cross and partly go along the side of the Sierra de Cordova (between 33 and 31 degrees of latitude) in their way from Buenos Ayres to Mendoza; it may be said to be the most southern promontory which advances, in the Pampas, towards the meridian of 65 degrees; it gives birth to the great river known by the name of Desaguadero de Mendoza and extends from San Juan de la Frontera and San Juan de la Punta to the town of Cordova. The second spur, called the Sierra de Salta and the Jujui, of which the greatest breadth is 25 degrees of latitude, widens from the valley of Catamarca and San Miguel del Tucuman, in the direction of the Rio Vermejo (longitude 64 degrees). Finally, the third and most majestic spur, the Sierra Nevada de Cochabamba and Santa Cruz (from 22 to 17 1/2 degrees of latitude), is linked with the knot of the mountains of Porco. It forms the points of partition (divortia aquarum, between the basin of the Amazon and that of the Rio de la Plata. The Cachimayo and the Pilcomayo, which rise between Potosi, Talavera de la Puna, and La Plata or Chuquisaca, run in the direction of south-east, while the Parapiti and the Guapey (Guapaiz, or Rio de Mizque) pour their waters into the Mamori, to north-east. The ridge of partition being near Chayanta, south of Mizque, Tomina and Pomabamba, nearly on the southern declivity of the Sierra de Cochabamba in latitude 19 and 20 degrees, the Rio Guapey flows round the whole group, before it reaches the plains of the Amazon, as in Europe the Poprad, a tributary of the Vistula, makes a circuit in its course from the southern part of the Carpathians to the plains of Poland. I have already observed above, that where the mountains cease (west* of the meridian of 66 1/2 degrees (* I agree with Captain Basil Hall, in fixing the port of Valparaiso in 71 degrees 31 minutes west of Greenwich, and I place Cordova 8 degrees 40 minutes, and Santa Cruz de la Sierra 7 degrees 4 minutes east of Valparaiso. The longitudes mentioned in the text refer always to the meridian of the Observatory of Paris.)) the partition ridge of Cochabamba goes up towards the north-east, to 16 degrees of latitude, forming, by the intersection of two slightly inclined planes, only one ridge amidst the savannahs, and separating the waters of the Guapore, a tributary of the Madeira, from those of the Aguapehy and Jauru, tributaries of the Rio Paraguay. This vast country between Santa Cruz de la Sierra, Villabella, and Matogrosso, is one of the least known parts of South America. The two spurs of Cordova and Salta present only a mountainous territory of small elevation, and linked to the foot of the Andes of Chile. Cochabamba, on the contrary, attains the limit of perpetual snow (2300 toises) and forms in some sort a lateral branch of the Cordilleras, diverging even from their tops between La Paz and Oruro. The mountains composing this branch (the Cordillera de Chiriguanaes, de los Sauces and Yuracarees) extend regularly from west to east; their eastern declivity* is very rapid, and their loftiest summits are not in the centre, but in the northern part of the group. (* For much information concerning the Sierra de Cochabamba I am indebted to the manuscripts of my countryman, the celebrated botanist Taddeus Haenke, which a monk of the congregation of the Escurial, Father Cisneros, kindly communicated to me at Lima. Mr. Haenke, after having followed the expedition of Alexander Malaspina, settled at Cochabamba in 1798. A part of the immense herbal of this botanist is now at Prague.)

The principal Cordillera of Chile and Upper Peru is, for the first time, ramified very distinctly into two branches, in the group of Porco and Potosi, between latitude 19 and 20 degrees. These two branches comprehend the table-land extending from Carangas to Lamba (latitude 19 3/4 to 15 degrees) and in which is situated the small mountain lake of Paria, the Desaguadero, and the great Laguna of Titicaca or Chucuito, of which the western part bears the name of Vinamarca. To afford an idea of the colossal dimensions of the Andes, I may here observe that the surface of the lake of Titicaca alone (448 square sea leagues) is twenty times greater than that of the Lake of Geneva, and twice the average extent of a department of France. On the banks of this lake, near Tiahuanacu, and in the high plains of Callao, ruins are found which bear evidence of a state of civilization anterior to that which the Peruvians assign to the reign of the Inca Manco Capac. The eastern Cordillera, that of La Paz, Palca, Ancuma, and Pelechuco, join, north-west of Apolobamba, the western Cordillera, which is the most extensive of the whole chain of the Andes, between the parallels 14 and 15 degrees. The imperial city of Cuzco is situated near the eastern extremity of this knot, which comprehends, in an area of 3000 square leagues, the mountains of Vilcanota, Carabaya, Abancai, Huando, Parinacochas, and Andahuaylas. Though here, as in general, in every considerable widening of the Cordillera, the grouped summits do not follow the principal axis in uniform and parallel directions, a phenomenon observable in the general disposition of the chain of the Andes, from latitude 18 degrees, is well worthy the attention of geologists. The whole mass of the Cordilleras of Chile and Upper Peru, from the Straits of Magellan to the parallel of the port of Arica (18 degrees 28 minutes 35 seconds), runs from south to north, in the direction of a meridian at most 5 degrees north-east; but from the parallel of Arica, the coast and the two Cordilleras east and west of the Alpine lake of Titicaca, abruptly change their direction and incline to north-west. The Cordilleras of Ancuma and Moquehua, and the longitudinal valley, or rather the basin of Titicaca, which they inclose, take a direction north 42 degrees west. Further on, the two branches again unite in the group of the mountains of Cuzco, and thence their direction is north 80 degrees west. This group of which the table-land inclines to the north-east, forms a curve, nearly from east to west, so that the part of the Andes north of Castrovireyna is thrown back more than 242,000 toises westward. This singular geological phenomenon resembles the variation of dip of the veins, and especially of the two parts of the chain of the Pyrenees, parallel to each other, and linked by an almost rectangular elbow, 16,000 toises long, near the source of the Garonne;* (* Between the mountain of Tentenade and the Port d'Espot.); but in the Andes, the axes of the chain, south and north of the curve, do not preserve parallelism. On the north of Castrovireyna and Andahuaylas (latitude 14 degrees), the direction is north 22 degrees west, while south of 15 degrees, it is north 42 degrees west. The inflexions of the coast follow these changes. The shore separated from the Cordillera by a plain 15 leagues in breadth, stretches from Camapo to Arica, between 27 1/2 and 18 1/2 degrees latitude north 5 degrees east; from Arica to Pisco, between 18 1/2 and 14 degrees latitude at first north 42 degrees west, afterwards north 65 degrees west; and from Pisco to Truxillo, between 14 and 8 degrees of latitude north 27 degrees west. The parallelism between the coast and the Cordillera of the Andes is a phenomenon the more worthy of attention, as it occurs in several parts of the globe where the mountains do not in the same manner form the shore.

After the great knot of mountains of Cuzco and Parinacochas, in 14 degrees south latitude, the Andes present a second bifurcation, on the east and west of the Rio Jauja, which throws itself into the Mantaro, a tributary stream of the Apurimac. The eastern chain stretches on the east of Huanta, the convent of Ocopa and Tarma; the western chain, on the west of Castrovireyna, Huancavelica, Huarocheri, and Yauli. The basin, or rather the lofty table-land which is inclosed by these chains, is nearly half the length of the basin of Chucuito or Titicaca. Two mountains covered with eternal snow, seen from the town of Lima, and which the inhabitants name Toldo de la Nieve, belong to the western chain, that of Huarocheri.

North-west of the valleys of Salcabamba, in the parallel of the ports of Huaura and Guarmey, between 11 and 10 degrees latitude, the two chains unite in the knot of the Huanuco and the Pasco, celebrated for the mines of Yauricocha or Santa Rosa. There rise two peaks of colossal height, the Nevados of Sasaguanca and of La Viuda. The table-land of this knot of mountains appears in the Pambas de Bombon to be more than 1800 toises above the level of the ocean. From this point, on the north of the parallel of Huanuco (latitude 11 degrees), the Andes are divided into three chains: the first, and most eastern, rises between Pozuzu and Muna, between the Rio Huallaga, and the Rio Pachitea, a tributary of the Ucayali; the second, or central, is between the Huallaga, and the Upper Maranon; the third, or western, between the Upper Maranon and the coast of Truxillo and Payta. The eastern chain is a small lateral branch which lowers into a range of hills: its direction is first north-north-east, bordering the Pampas del Sacramento, afterwards it turns west-north-west, where it is broken by the Rio Huallaga, in the Pongo, above the confluence of Chipurana, and then it loses itself in latitude 6 1/4 degrees, on the north-west of Lamas. A transversal ridge seems to connect it with the central chain, south of Paramo de Piscoguanuna (or Piscuaguna), west of Chachapoyas. The intermediary or central chain stretches from the knot of Pasco and Huanuco, towards north-north-west, between Xican and Chicoplaya, Huacurachuco and the sources of the Rio Monzan, between Pataz and Pajatan, Caxamarquilla and Moyobamba. It widens greatly in the parallel of Chachapoyas, and forms a mountainous territory, traversed by deep and extremely hot valleys. On the north of the Paramo de Piscoguanuna (latitude 6 degrees) the central chain throws two branches in the direction of La Vellaca and San Borja. We shall soon see that this latter branch forms, below the Rio Neva a tributary stream of the Amazon, the rocks that border the famous Pongo de Manseriche. In this zone, where North Peru approximates to the confines of New Grenada in latitude 10 and 5 degrees, no summit of the eastern and central chains rises as high as the region of perpetual snow; the only snowy summits are in the western chain. The central chain, that of the Paramos de Callacalla, and Piscoguanuna, scarcely attains 1800 toises, and lowers gently to 800 toises; so that the mountainous and temperate tract of country which extends on the north of Chachapoyas towards Pomacocha, La Vellaca and the source of the Rio Nieva is rich in fine cinchona trees. After having passed the Rio Huallaga and the Pachitea, which with the Beni forms the Ucayali, we find, in advancing towards the east, only ranges of hills. The western chain of the Andes, which is the most elevated and nearest to the coast, runs almost parallel with the shore north 22 degrees west, between Caxatambo and Huary, Conchucos and Guamachuco, by Caxamarca, the Paramo de Yanaguanga, and Montan, towards the Rio de Guancabamba. It comprises (between 9 and 7 1/2 degrees) the three Nevados de Pelagatos, Moyopata and Huaylillas. This last snowy summit, situated near Guamachuco (in 7 degrees 55 minutes latitude), is the more remarkable, since from thence on the north, as far as Chimborazo, on a length of 140 leagues, there is not one mountain that enters the region of perpetual snow. This depression, or absence of snow, extends in the same interval, over all the lateral chains; while, on the south of the Nevado de Huaylillas, it always happens that when one chain is very low, the summits of the other exceed the height of 2460 toises. It was on the south of Micuipampa (latitude 7 degrees 1 minute) that I found the magnetic equator.

The Amazon, or as it is customary to say in those regions, the Upper Maranon, flows through the western part of the longitudinal valley lying between the Cordilleras of Chachapayas and Caxamarca. Comprehending in one point of view, this valley, and that of the Rio Jauja, bounded by the Cordilleras of Tarma and Huarocheri, we are inclined to consider them as one immense basin 180 leagues long, and crossed in the first third of its length, by a dyke, or ridge 18,000 toises broad. In fact, the two alpine lakes of Lauricocha and Chinchaycocha, where the river Amazon and the Rio de Jauja take their rise, are situated south and north of this rocky dyke, which is a prolongation of the knot of Huanuco and Pasco. The Amazon, on issuing from the longitudinal valley which bounds the chains of Caxamarca and Chachacocha, breaks the latter chain; and the point where the great river penetrates the mountains, is very remarkable. Entering the Amazon by the Rio Chamaya or Guancabamba, I found opposite the confluence, the picturesque mountain of Patachuana; but the rocks on both banks of the Amazon begin only between Tambillo and Tomependa (latitude 5 degrees 31 minutes, longitude 80 degrees 56 minutes). From thence to the Pongo de Rentema, a long succession of rocks follow, of which the last is the Pongo de Tayouchouc, between the strait of Manseriche and the village of San Borja. The course of the Amazon, which is first directed north, then east, changes near Puyaya, three leagues north-east of Tomependa. Throughout the whole distance between Tambillo and San Borja, the waters force a way, more or less narrow, across the sandstones of the Cordillera of Chachapoyas. The mountains are lofty near the Embarcadero, at the confluence of the Imasa, where large trees of cinchona, which might be easily transplanted to Cayenne, or the Canaries, approach the Amazon. The rocks in the famous strait of Manseriche are scarcely 40 toises high; and further eastward the last hills rise near Xeberos, towards the mouth of the Rio Huallaga.

I have not yet noticed the extraordinary widening of the Andes near the Apolobamba. The sources of the Rio Beni being found in the spur which stretches northward beyond the confluence of that river with the Apurimac, I shall give to the whole group the name of "the spur of Beni." The following is the most certain information I have obtained respecting those countries, from persons who had long inhabited Apolobamba, the Real das Minas of Pasco, and the convent of Ocopa. Along the whole eastern chain of Titicaca, from La Paz to the knot of Huanuco (latitude 17 1/2 to 10 1/2 degrees) a very wide mountainous land is situated eastward, at the back of the declivity of the Andes. It is not a widening of the eastern chain itself, but rather of the small heights that surround the foot of the Andes like a penumbra, filling the whole space between the Beni and the Pachitca. A chain of hills bounds the eastern bank of the Beni to latitude 8 degrees; for the rivers Coanache and Magua, tributaries of the Ucayali (flowing in latitude 6 and 7 degrees) come from a mountainous tract between the Ucayali and the Javari. The existence of this tract in so eastern a longitude (probably longitude 74 degrees), is the more remarkable, as we find at four degrees of latitude further north, neither a rock nor a hill on the east of Xeberos, or the mouth of the Huallaga (longitude 77 degrees 56 minutes).

We have just seen that the spur of Beni, a sort of lateral branch, loses itself about latitude 8 degrees; the chain between the Ucayali and the Huallaga terminates at the parallel of 7 degrees, in joining, on the west of Lamas, the chain of Chachapayas, stretching between the Huallaga and the Amazon. Finally, the latter chain, to which I have given the designation of central, after forming the rapids and cataracts of the Amazon, between Tomependa and San Borja, turns to north-north-west, and joins the western chain, that of Caxamarca, or the Nevados of Pelagatos and Huaylillas, and forms the great knot of the mountains of Loxa. The mean height of this knot is only from 1000 to 1200 toises: its mild climate renders it peculiarly favourable to the growth of the cinchona trees, the finest kinds of which are found in the celebrated forest of Caxanuma and Uritusinga, between the Rio Zamora and the Cachiyacu, and between Tavacona and Guancabamba. Before the cinchona of Popayan and Santa Fe de Bogota (north latitude 2 1/2 to 5 degrees), of Huacarachuco, Huamalies and Huanuco (south latitude 9 to 11 degrees) became known, the group of the mountains of Loxa had for ages been regarded as the sole region whence the febrifuge bark of cinchona could be obtained. This group occupies the vast territory between Guancabamba, Avayaca, Ona and the ruined towns of Zamora and Loyola, between latitude 5 1/2 and 3 1/4 degrees. Some of the summits (the Paramos of Alpachaca, Saraguru, Savanilla, Gueringa, Chulucanas, Guamani, and Yamoca, which I measured) rise from 1580 to 1720 toises, but are not even sporadically covered with snow, which in this latitude falls only above 1860 to 1900 toises of absolute height. Eastward, in the direction of the Rio Santiago and the Rio de Chamaya, two tributary streams of the Amazon, the mountains lower rapidly: between San Felipe, Matara, and Jaen de Bracamoros, they are not more than 500 or 300 toises.

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Part 2 of 6

As we advance from the mica-slate mountain of Loxa towards the north, between the Paramos of Alpachaca and Sara (in latitude 3 degrees 15 minutes) the knot of mountains ramifies into two branches which comprehend the longitudinal valley of Cuenca. This separation continues for a length of only 12 leagues; for in latitude 2 degrees 27 minutes the two Cordilleras again re-unite in the knot of Assuy, a trachytic group, of which the table-land near Cadlud (2428 toises high) nearly enters the region of perpetual snow.

The group of the mountains of Assuy, which affords a very frequented pass of the Andes between Cuenca and Quito (latitude 2 1/2 to 0 degrees 40 minutes south) is succeeded by another division of the Cordilleras, celebrated by the labours of Bouguer and La Condamine, who placed their signals sometimes on one, sometimes on the other of the two chains. The eastern chain is that of Chimborazo (3350 toises) and Carguairazo; the western is the chain of the volcano Sangay, the Collanes, and of Llanganate. The latter is broken by the Rio Pastaza. The bottom of the longitudinal basin that bounds those two chains, from Alausi to Llactacunga, is somewhat higher than the bottom of the basin of Cuenca. North of Llactacanga, 0 degrees 40 minutes latitude, between the tops of Yliniza (2717 toises) and Cotopaxi (2950 toises), of which the former belongs to the chain of Chimborazo, and the latter to that of Sangay, is situated the knot of Chisinche; a kind of narrow dyke that closes the basin, and divides the waters between the Atlantic and the Pacific. The Alto de Chisinche is only 80 toises above the surrounding table-lands. The waters of its northern declivity form the Rio de San Pedro, which, joining the Rio Pita, throws itself into the Gualabamba, or Rio de las Esmeraldas. The waters of the southern declivity, called Cerro de Tiopullo, run into the Rio San Felipe and the Pastaza, a tributary stream of the Amazon.

The bipartition of the Cordilleras re-commences and continues from 0 degrees 40 minutes latitude south to 0 degrees 20 minutes latitude north; that is, as far as the volcano of Imbabura near the villa of Ibarra. The eastern Cordillera presents the snowy summits of Antisana (2992 toises), of Guamani, Cayambe (3070 toises) and of Imbabura; the western Cordillera, those of Corazon, Atacazo, Pichinca (2491 toises) and Catocache (2570 toises). Between these two chains, which may be regarded as the classic soil of the astronomy of the 18th century, is a valley, part of which is again divided longitudinally by the hills of Ichimbio and Poignasi. The table-lands of Puembo and Chillo are situated eastward of those hills; and those of Quito, Inaquito and Turubamba lie westward. The equator crosses the summit of the Nevado de Cayambe and the valley of Quito, in the village of San Antonio de Lulumbamba. When we consider the small mass of the knot of Assuy, and above all, of that of Chisinche, we are inclined to regard the three basins of Cuenca, Hambato and Quito as one valley (from the Paramo de Sarar to the Villa de Ibarra) 73 sea leagues long, from 4 to 5 leagues broad, having a general direction north 8 degrees east, and divided by two transverse dykes one between Alausi and Cuenca (2 degrees 27 minutes south latitude), and the other between Machache and Tambilbo (0 degrees 40 minutes). Nowhere in the Cordillera of the Andes are there more colossal mountains heaped together than on the east and west of this vast basin of the province of Quito, one degree and a half south, and a quarter of a degree north of the equator. This basin which, next to the basin of Titicaca, is the centre of the most ancient native civilization, touches, southward, the knot of the mountains of Loxa, and northward the tableland of the province of Los Pastos.

In this province, a little beyond the villa of Ibarra, between the snowy summits of Cotocache and Imbabura, the two Cordilleras of Quito unite, and form one mass, extending to Meneses and Voisaco, from 0 degrees 21 minutes north latitude to 1 degree 13 minutes. I call this mass, on which are situated the volcanoes of Cumbal and Chiles, the knot of the mountains of Los Pastos, from the name of the province that forms the centre. The volcano of Pasto, the last eruption of which took place in the year 1727, is on the south of Yenoi, near the northern limit of this group, of which the inhabited table-lands are more than 1600 toises above sea-level. It is the Thibet of the equinoctial regions of the New World.

On the north of the town of Pasto (latitude 1 degree 13 minutes north; longitude 79 degrees 41 minutes) the Andes again divide into two branches and surround the table-land of Mamendoy and Almaguer. The eastern Cordillera contains the Sienega of Sebondoy (an alpine lake which gives birth to the Putumayo), the sources of the Jupura or Caqueta, and the Paramos of Aponte and Iscanse. The western Cordillera, that of Mamacondy, called in the country Cordillera de la Costa, on account of its proximity to the shore of the Pacific, is broken by the great Rio de Patias, which receives the Guativa, the Guachicon and the Quilquase. The table-land or intermediary basin has great inequalities; it is partly filled by the Paramos of Pitatumba and Paraguay, and the separation of the two chains appeared to me indistinct as far as the parallel of Almaguer (latitude 1 degree 54 minutes; longitude 79 degrees 15 minutes). The general direction of the Andes, from the extremity of the basin of the province of Quito to the vicinity of Popayan, changes from north 8 degrees east to north 36 degrees east; and follows the direction of the coast of Esmeralda and Barbacoas.

On the parallel of Almaguer, or rather a little north-east of that town, the geological structure of the ground displays very remarkable changes. The Cordillera, to which we have given the name of eastern, that of the lake of Sebondoy, widens considerably between Pansitara and Ceja. The knot of the Paramo de las Papas and of Socoboni gives birth to the great rivers of Cauca and Magdalena, and is divided into two chains, latitude 2 degrees 5 minutes east and west of La Plata, Vieja and Timana. These two chains continue nearly parallel as far as 5 degrees of latitude, and they bound the longitudinal valley through which winds the Rio Magdalena. We shall give the name of the eastern Cordillera of New Grenada to that chain which stretches towards Santa Fe de Bogota, and the Sierra Nevada de Merida, east of Magdalena; the chain which lies between the Magdalena and the Cauca, in the direction of Mariquita, we will call the central Cordillera of New Grenada; and the chain which continues the Cordillera de la Costa from the basin of Almaguer, and separates the bed of the Rio Cauca from the platiniferous territory of Choco, we will designate the western Cordillera of New Grenada. For additional clearness, we may also name the chain, that of Suma Paz, after the colossal group of mountains on the south of Santa Fe de Bogota, which empties the waters of its eastern declivity into the Rio Meta. The second chain may bear the name of the chain of Guanacas or Quindiu, after the two celebrated passages of the Andes, on the road from Santa Fe de Bogota to Popayan. The third chain may be called the chain of Choco, or of the shore. Some leagues south of Popayan (latitude 2 degrees 21 minutes north), west of Paramo de Palitara and the volcano of Purace, a ridge of mica-slate runs from the knot of the mountains of Sacoboni to north-west, and divides the waters between the Pacific and the Caribbean Sea; they flow from the northern declivity into the Rio Cauca, and from the southern declivity, into the Rio de Patias.

The tripartition of the Andes (north latitude 1 3/4 to 2 1/4 degrees) resembles that which takes place at the source of the Amazon in the knot of the mountains of Huanuco and Pasco (latitude 11 degrees south); but the most western of the three chains that bound the basins of the Amazon and the Huallaga, is the loftiest; while that of Choco, or the shore, is the least elevated of the three chains of New Grenada. Ignorance of this tripartition of the Andes in that part of South America near the Rio Atrato and the isthmus of Panama, has led to many erroneous opinions respecting the possibility of a canal that should connect the two seas.

The eastern chain of the Andes of New Grenada* preserves its parallelism during some time with the two other chains, those of Quindiu and Choco; but beyond Tunja (latitude 5 1/2 degrees) it inclines more towards the north-east, passing somewhat abruptly from the direction north 25 degrees east to that of north 45 degrees east. (* I employ a systematic denomination, for the name of the Andes is unknown in the countries situated north of the equator.) It is like a vein that changes its direction; and it rejoins the coast after being greatly enlarged by the grouping of the snowy mountains of Merida. The tripartition of the Cordilleras, and above all, the spreading of their branches, have a vast influence on the prosperity of the nations of New Grenada. The diversity of the superposed table-lands and climates varies the agricultural productions as well as the character of the inhabitants. It gives activity to the exchange of productions, and renews over a vast surface, north of the equator, the picture of the sultry valleys and cool and temperate plains of Peru. It is also worthy of remark that, by the separation of one of the branches of the Cordilleras of Cundinamarca and by the deviation of the chain of Bogota towards the north-east, the colossal group of the mountains of Merida is enclosed in the territory of the ancient Capitania-general of Venezuela, and that the continuity of the same mountainous land from Pamplona to Barquisimeto and Nirgua may be said to have facilitated the political union of the Columbian territory. As long as the central chain (that of Quindiu) presents its snowy summits, no peak of the eastern chain (that of La Suma Paz) rises, in the same parallels, to the limit of perpetual snow. Between latitude 2 and 5 1/2 degrees neither the Paramos situated on the east of Gigante and Neiva, nor the tops of La Suma Paz, Chingasa, Guachaneque, and Zoraca, exceed the height of 1900 to 2000 toises; while on the north of the parallel of Paramo d'Erve (latitude 5 degrees 5 minutes), the last of the Nevados of the central Cordillera, we discover in the eastern chain the snowy summits of Chita (latitude 5 degrees 50 minutes), and of Mucuchies (latitude 8 degrees 12 minutes). Hence it results that from latitude 5 degrees the only mountains covered with snow during the whole year are the Cordilleras of the east; and although the Sierra Nevada of Santa Marta is not, properly speaking, a continuation of the Nevados of Chita and Mucuchies (west of Patute and east of Merida), it is at least very near their meridian.

Having now arrived at the northern extremity of the Cordilleras, comprehended between Cape Horn and the isthmus of Panama, we shall proceed to notice the loftiest summits of the three chains which separate in the knot of the mountains of Socoboni, and the ridge of Roble (latitude 1 degree 50 minutes to 2 degrees 20 minutes). I begin with the most eastern chain, that of Timana and Suma Paz, which divides the tributary streams of the Magdalena and the Meta: it runs by the Paramos de Chingasu, Guachaneque, Zoraca, Toquillo (near Labranza Grande), Chita, Almorsadero, Laura, Cacota, Zumbador and Porqueras, in the direction of the Sierra Nevada de Merida. These Paramos indicate ten partial risings of the back of the Cordilleras. The declivity of the eastern chain is extremely rapid on the eastern side, where it bounds the basin of the Meta and the Orinoco; it is widened on the west by the spurs on which are situated the towns of Santa Fe de Bogota, Tunja, Sogamoso and Leiva. They are like tablelands fixed to the western declivity, and are from 1300 to 1400 toises high; that of Bogota (the bottom of an ancient lake) contains fossil bones of the mastodon, in the plain called (from them) the Campo de Gigantes, near Suacha.

The intermediary, or central chain, runs east of Popayan, by the high plains of Mabasa, the Paramos of Guanacas, Huila, Savelillo, Iraca, Baraguan, Tolima, Ruiz and Herveo, towards the province of Antioquia. In 5 degrees 15 minutes of latitude this chain, the only one that shows traces of recent volcanic fire, in the summits of Sotara and Purace, widens considerably towards the west, and joins the western chain, which we have called the chain of Choco, because the platiniferous land of that province lies on the slope opposite the Pacific ocean. By the union of the two chains, the basin of the province of Popayan is close on the north of Cartago Viejo; and the river of Cauca, issuing from the plain of Buga, is forced, from the Salto de San Antonio, to La Boca del Espiritu Santo, to open its way across the mountains, along a course of from 40 to 50 leagues. The difference of the level is very remarkable in the bottom of the two parallel basins of Cauca and Magdalena. The former, between Cali and Cantago, is from 500 to 404 toises; the latter, from Neiva to Ambalema, is from 265 to 150 toises high. According to different geological hypotheses, it may be said either that the secondary formations have not accumulated to the same thickness between the eastern and central, as between the central and western chains; or, that the deposits have been made on the base of primitive rocks, unequally upheaved on the east and west of the Andes of Quindiu. The average difference of the thickness of these formations is 300 toises. The rocky ridge of the Angostura of Carare branches from the south-east, from the spur of Muzo, through which winds the Rio Negro. By this spur, and by those that come from the west, the eastern and central chains approach between Nares, Honda, and Mendales. In fact, the bed of the Rio Magdalena is narrowed in 5 and 5 degrees 18 minutes, on the east by the mountains of Sergento, and on the west by the spurs that are linked with the granitic mountains of Maraquito and Santa Ana. This narrowing of the bed of the river is in the same parallel with that of the Cauca, near the Salto de San Antonio; but, in the knot of the mountains of Antioquia the central and western chains join each other, while between Honda and Mendales, the tops of the central and eastern chains are so far removed that it is only the spurs of each system that draw near and are confounded together. It is also worthy of remark that the central Cordillera of New Grenada displays the loftiest summit of the Andes in the northern hemisphere. The peak of Tolima (latitude 4 degrees 46 minutes) which is almost unknown even by name in Europe, and which I measured in 1801, is at least 2865 toises high. It consequently surpasses Imbabura and Cotocache in the province of Quito, the Chiles of the table-lands of Los Pastos, the two volcanoes of Popayan and even the Nevados of Mexico and Mount Saint Elias of Russian America. The peak of Tolima, which in form resembles Cotapaxi, is perhaps inferior in height only to the ridge of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta, which may be considered as an insulated system of mountains.

The eastern chain, also called the chain of Choco and the east coast (of the Pacific), separates the provinces of Popayan and Antioquia from those of Barbacoas, Raposo and Choco. It is in general but little elevated, compared to the height of the central and eastern chains; it however presents great obstacles to the communications between the valley of Cauca and the shore. On its western slope lies the famous auriferous and platiniferous land,* which has during ages yielded more than 13,000 marks of gold annually. (* Choco, Barbacoas and Brazil are the only countries in which the existence of grains of platinum and palladium has hitherto been fully ascertained. The small town of Barbacoas is situated on the left bank of the Rio Telembi (a tributary of Patias or the Rio del Castigo) a little above the confluence of Telembi and the Guagi or Guaxi, nearly in latitude 1 degree 48 minutes. The ancient Provincia, or rather the Partido del Raposo, comprehends the insalubrious land extending from the Rio Dagua, or San Buenaventura, to the Rio Iscuande, the southern limit of Choco.) This alluvial zone is from ten to twelve leagues broad; its maximum of productiveness lies between the parallels of 2 and 6 degrees latitude; it sensibly impoverishes towards the north and south, and almost entirely disappears between 1 1/4 degree north latitude and the equator. The auriferous soil fills the basin of Cauca, as well as the ravines and plains west of the Cordillera of Choco; it rises sometimes nearly 600 toises above the level of the sea, and descends at least 40 toises.* (* M. Caldas assigns to the upper limit of the zone of gold-washings, only the height of 350 toises. Semanario tome 1 page 18; but I found the Seraderos[?] of Quilichao, on the north of Popayan, to be 565 toises high.) Platinum (and this fact is worthy of attention) has hitherto been found only on the west of the Cordillera of Choco, and not on the east, notwithstanding the analogy of the fragments of rocks of greenstone, phonolite, trachyte, and ferruginous quartz, of which the soil of the two slopes is composed. From the ridge of Los Robles, which separates the table-land of Almaguer from the basin of Cauca, the western chain forms, first, in the Cerros de Carpinteria, east of the Rio San Juan de Micay, the continuation of the Cordillera of Sindagua, broken by the Rio Patias; then, lowering northward, between Cali and Las Juntas de Dagua, and at the elevation of 800 to 900 toises, it sends out considerable spurs (latitude 4 1/4 to 5 degrees) towards the source of the Calima, the Tamana and the Andagueda. The two former of these auriferous rivers are tributary streams of the Rio San Juan del Choco; the second empties its waters into the Atrato. This widening of the western chain forms the mountainous part of Choco: here, between the Tado and Zitara, called also Francisco de Quibdo, lies the isthmus of Raspadura, across which a monk traced a navigable line of communication between the two oceans. The culminant point of this system of mountains appears to be the Peak of Torra, situated south-east of Novita.

The northern extremity of this enlargement of the Cordillera of Choco, which I have just described, corresponds with the junction formed on the east, between the same Cordillera and the central chain, that of Quindiu. The mountains of Antioquia, on which we have the excellent observations of Mr. Restrepo, may be called a knot of mountains, and on the northern limit of the plains of Buga, or the basin of Cauca, they join the central and western chains. The ridge of the eastern Cordillera is at the distance of thirty-five leagues from this knot, so that the contraction of the bed of the Rio Magdalena, between Honda and Ambalema, is caused only by the approximation of the spurs of Mariquita and Guaduas. There is not, therefore, properly speaking, a group of mountains between latitude 5 and 5 1/4 degrees, uniting the three chains at once. In the group of the province of Antioquia, which forms the junction of the central and western Cordilleras, we may distinguish two great masses; one between the Magdalena and the Cauca, and the other between the Cauca and the Atrato. The first of these masses, which is linked most immediately to the snowy summits of Herveo, gives birth on the east to the Rio de la Miel and the Nare; and on the north to Porce and Nechi; its average height is only from 1200 to 1350 toises. The culminant point appears to be near Santa Rosa, south-west of the celebrated Valley of Bears (Valle de Osos). The towns of Rio Negro and Marinilla are built on table-lands 1060 toises high. The western mass of the knot of the mountains of Antioquia, between the Cauca and the Atrato, gives rise, on its western descent, to the Rio San Juan, Bevara, and Murri. It attains its greatest height in the Alto del Viento, north of Urrao, known to the first conquistadores by the name of the Cordilleras of Abide or Dabeida. This height (latitude 7 degrees 15 minutes) does not, however, exceed 1500 toises. Following the western slope of this system of mountains of Antioquia, we find that the point of partition of the waters that flow towards the Pacific and the Caribbean Sea (latitude 5 1/2 and 6 degrees ) nearly corresponds with the parallel of the isthmus of Raspadura, between the Rio San Juan and the Atrato. It is remarkable that in this group, more than 30 leagues broad, without sharp summits, between latitude 5 1/4 and 7 degrees, the highest masses rise towards the west; while, further south, before the union of the two chains of Quindiu and Choco, we saw them on the east of Cauca.

The ramifications of the knot of Antioquia, on the north of the parallel 7 degrees, are very imperfectly known; it is observed only that their lowering is in general more rapid and complete towards the north-west, in the direction of the ancient province of Biruquete and Darien, than towards the north and north-east, on the side of Zaragoza and Simiti. From the northern bank of the Rio Nare, near its confluence with the Samana, a spur stretches out, known by the name of La Simitarra, and the Mountains of San Lucar. We may call it the first branch of the group of Antioquia. I saw it, in going up the Rio Magdalena, on the west, from the Regidor and the mouth of the Rio Simiti, as far as San Bartolome (on the south of the mouth of the Rio Sogamozo); while, eastward, in latitude 7 3/4 and 8 1/4 degrees, the spur of the mountains of Ocana appear in the distance; they are inhabited by some tribes of Molitone Indians. The second branch of the group of Antioquia (west of Samitarra) commences at the mountains of Santa Rosa, stretches out between Zaragoza and Caceres, and terminates abruptly at the confluence of the Rio Nechi (latitude 8 degrees 33 minutes): at least if the hills, often conical, between the mouth of the Rio Sinu and the small town of Tolu, or even the calcareous heights of Turbaco and Popa, near Carthagena, may not be regarded as the most northern prolongation of this second branch. A third advances towards the gulf of Uraba or Darien, between the Rio San Jorge and the Atrato. It is linked southward with the Alto del Viento, or Sierra de Abide, and is rapidly lost, advancing as far as the parallel of 8 degrees. Finally, the fourth branch of the Andes of Antioquia, situated westward of Zitara and the Rio Atrato, undergoes, long before it enters the isthmus of Panama, such a depression, that between the Gulf of Cupica and the embarcadero of the Rio Naipipi, we find only a plain across which M. Gogueneche has projected a canal for the junction of the two seas. It would be interesting to know the configuration of the strata between Cape Garachine, or the Gulf of St. Miguel, and Cape Tiburon, especially towards the source of the Rio Tuyra and Chucunaque or Chucunque, so as to determine with precision where the mountains of the isthmus of Panama begin to rise; mountains whose elevation does not appear to be more than 100 toises. The interior of Darfur is not more unknown to geographers than the humid, insalubrious forest-land which extends on the north-west of Betoi and the confluence of the Bevara with the Atrato, towards the isthmus of Panama. All that we positively know of it hitherto is that between Cupica and the left bank of the Atrato there is either a land-strait, or a total absence of the Cordillera. The mountains of the isthmus of Panama, by their direction and their geographical position, may be considered as a continuation of the mountains of Antioquia and Choco; but on the west of Bas-Atrato, there is scarcely a ridge in the plain. We do not find in this country a group of interposed mountains like that which links (between Barquisimeto, Nirgua and Valencia) the eastern chain of New Grenada (that of Suma Paz and the Sierra Nevada de Merida) to the Cordillera of the shore of Venezuela.

The Cordillera of the Andes, considered in its whole extent, from the rocky wall of the island of Diego Ramirez to the isthmus of Panama, is sometimes ramified into chains more or less parallel, and sometimes articulated by immense knots of mountains. We distinguish nine of those knots, and consequently an equal number of branching-points and ramifications. The latter are generally bifurcations. The Andes are twice only divided into three chains; in the knot of Huanuco, near the source of the Amazon, and the Huallaga (latitude 10 to 11 degrees) and in the knot of the Paramo de las Papas (latitude 2 degrees), near the source of the Magdalena and the Cauca. Basins, almost shut in at their extremities, parallel with the axis of the Cordillera and bounded by two knots and two lateral chains, are characteristic features of the structure of the Andes. Among these knots of mountains some, for instance those of Cuzco, Loxa and Los Pastos, comprise 3300, 1500 and 1130 square leagues, while others no less important in the eye of the geologist are confined to ridges or transversal dykes. To the latter belong the Altos de Chisinche (latitude 0 degrees 40 minutes south) and the Los Robles (latitude 2 degrees 20 minutes north), on the south of Quito and Popayan. The knot of Cuzco, so celebrated in the annals of Peruvian civilization, presents an average height of from 1200 to 1400 toises, and a surface nearly three times greater than the whole of Switzerland. The ridge of Chisinche, which separates the basins of Tacunga and Quito, is 1580 toises high, but scarcely a mile broad. The knots or groups which unite several partial chains have not the highest summits, either in the Andes or, for the most part, in the great mountain ranges of the old continent; it is not even certain that there is always in those knots a widening of the chain. The greatness of the mass, and the height so long attributed to points whence several considerable branches issue, was founded either on theoretic ideas or on false measures. The Cordilleras were compared to rivers that swell as they receive a number of tributary streams.

Among the basins which the Andes present, and which form probably as many lakes or small inland seas, those of Titicaca, Rio Jauja and the Upper Maranon, comprise respectively 3500, 1300, and 2400 square leagues of surface.* (* I here subjoin some measures interesting to geologists. Area of the Andes, from Tierra del Fuego to the Paramo de las Rosas (latitude 9 1/4 degrees north), where the mountainous land of Tocuyo and Barquesimeto begins, part of the Cordillera of the shore of Venezuela, 58,900 square leagues, (20 to a degree) the four spurs of Cordova, Salta, Cochabamba and Beni alone, occupy 23,300 square leagues of this surface, and the three basins contained between latitude 6 and 20 degrees south measure 7200 square leagues. Deducting 33,200 square leagues for the whole of the enclosed basins and spurs, we find, in latitude 65 degrees, the area of the Cordilleras elevated in the form of walls, to be 25,700 square leagues, whence results (comprehending the knots, and allowing for the inflexion of the chains) an average breadth of the Andes of 18 to 20 leagues. The valleys of Huallaga and the Rio Magdalena are not comprehended in these 58,900 square leagues, on account of the diverging direction of the chain, east of Cipoplaya and Santa Fe de Bogota.) The first is so encompassed that no drop of water can escape except by evaporation; it is like the enclosed valley of Mexico,* (* We consider it in its primitive state, without respect to the gap or cleft of the mountains, known by the name of Desaghue de Huehuetoca.) and of those numerous circular basins which have been discerned in the moon, and which are surrounded by lofty mountains. An immense alpine lake characterizes the basin of Tiahuanaco or Titicaca; this phenomenon is the more worthy of attention, as in South America there are scarcely any of those reservoirs of fresh water which are found at the foot of the European Alps, on the northern and southern slopes, and which are permanent during the season of drought. The other basins of the Andes, for instance, those of Jauja, the Upper Maranon and Cauca, pour their waters into natural canals, which may be considered as so many crevices situated either at one of the extremities of the basin, or on its banks, nearly in the middle of the lateral chain. I dwell on this articulated form of the Andes, on those knots or transverse ridges, because, in the continuation of the Andes called the Cordilleras of the shore of Venezuela, we shall find the same transverse dykes, and the same phenomena.

The ramification of the Andes and of all the great masses of mountains into several chains merits particular consideration in reference to the height more or less considerable of the bottom of the enclosed basins, or longitudinal valleys. Geologists have hitherto directed more attention to the successive narrowing of these basins, their depth compared with the walls of rock that surround them, and the correspondence between the re-entering and the salient angles, than to the level of the bottom of the valleys. No precise measure has yet fixed the absolute height of the three basins of Titicaca, Jauja and the Upper Maranon;* (* I am inclined to believe that the southern part of the basin of the Upper Maranon, between Huary and Huacarachuco, exceeds 350 toises.) but I was fortunate enough to be able to determine the six other basins, or longitudinal valleys, which succeed each other, as if by steps, towards the north. The bottom of the valley of Cuenca, between the knots of Loxa and Assuay, is 1350 toises; the valley of Allansi and of Hambato, between the knot of the Assuay and the ridge of Chisinche, 1320 toises; the valley of Quito in the eastern part, 1340 toises, and in the western part, 1490 toises; the basin of Almaguer, 1160 toises; the basin of the Rio Cauca, between the lofty plains of Cali, Buga, and Cartago, 500 toises; the valley of Magdalena, first between Neiva and Honda, 200 toises; and further on, between Honda and Mompox, 100 toises of average height above the level of the sea.* (* In the region of the Andes comprehended between 4 degrees of south latitude and 2 degrees of north, the longitudinal valleys or basins inclosed by parallel chains are regularly between 1200 and 1500 toises high; while the transversal valleys are remarkable for their depression, or rather the rapid lowering of their bottom. The valley of Patias, for instance, running from north-east to south-west is only 350 toises of absolute height, even above the junction of the Rio Guachion with the Quilquasi, according to the barometric measures of M. Caldas; and yet it is surrounded by the highest summits, the Paramos de Puntaurcu and Mamacondy. Going from the plains of Lombardy, and penetrating into the Alps of the Tyrol, by a line perpendicular to the axis of the chain, we advance more than 20 marine leagues towards the north, yet we find the bottom of the valley of the Adige and of Eysack near Botzen, to be only 182 toises of absolute height, an elevation which exceeds but 117 toises that of Milan. From Botzen however, to the ridge of Brenner (culminant point 746 toises) is only 11 leagues. The Valais is a longitudinal valley; and in a barometric measurement which I made very recently from Paris to Naples and Berlin, I was surprised to find that from Sion to Brigg, the bottom of the valley rises only to from 225 to 350 toises of absolute height; nearly the level of the plains of Switzerland, which, between the Alps and the Jura, are only from 274 to 300 toises.) In this region, which has been carefully measured, the different basins lower very sensibly from the equator northward. The elevation of the bottom of enclosed basins merits great attention in connection with the causes of the formation of the valleys. I do not deny that the depressions in the plains may be sometimes the effect of ancient pelagic currents, or slow erosions. I am inclined to believe that the transversal valleys, resembling crevices, have been widened by running waters; but these hypotheses of successive erosions cannot well be applied to the completely enclosed basins of Titicaca and Mexico. These basins, as well as those of Jauja, Cuenca and Almaguer, which lose their waters only by a lateral and narrow issue, owe their origin to a cause more instantaneous, more closely linked with the upheaving of the whole chain. It may be said that the phenomenon of the narrow declivities of the Sarenthal and of the valley of Eysack in the Tyrol, is repeated at every step, and on a grander scale, in the Cordilleras of equinoctial America. We seem to recognize in the Cordilleras those longitudinal sinkings, those rocky vaults, which, to use the expression of a great geologist,* "are broken when extended over a great space, and leave deep and almost perpendicular rents." (* Von Buch, Tableau du Tyrol meridional page 8 1823.)

If, to complete the sketch of the structure of the Andes from Tierra del Fuego to the northern Polar Sea, we pass the boundaries of South America, we find that the western Cordillera of New Grenada, after a great depression between the mouth of the Atrato and the gulf of Cupica, again rises in the isthmus of Panama to 80 or 100 toises high, augmenting towards the west, in the Cordilleras of Veragua and Salamanca,* and extending by Guatimala as far as the confines of Mexico. (* If it be true, as some navigators affirm, that the mountains at the north-western extremity of the republic of Columbia, known by the names of Silla de Veragua, and Castillo del Choco, be visible at 36 leagues distance, the elevation of their summits must be nearly 1400 toises, little lower than the Silla of Caracas.) Within this space it extends along the coast of the Pacific where, from the gulf of Nicoya to Soconusco (latitude 9 1/2 to 16 degrees) is found a long series of volcanoes,* most frequently insulated, and sometimes linked to spurs or lateral branches. (* See the list of twenty-one volcanoes of Guatimala, partly extinct and partly still burning, given by Arago and myself, in the Annuaire du Bureau des Longitudes pour 1824 page 175. No mountain of Guatimala having been hitherto measured, it is the more important to fix approximately the height of the Volcan de Agua, or the Volcano of Pacaya, and the Volcan de Fuego, called also Volcano of Guatimala. Mr. Juarros expressly says that this volcano which, by torrents of water and stones, destroyed, on the 11th September, 1541, the Ciudad Vieja, or Almolonga (the ancient capital of the country, which must not be confounded with the ancient Guatimala), is covered with snow, during several months of the year. This phenomenon would seem to indicate a height of more than 1750 toises.) Passing the isthmus of Tehuantepecor Huasacualco, on the Mexican territory, the Cordillera of central America extends on toward the intendancia of Oaxaca, at an equal distance from the two oceans; then from 18 1/2 to 21 degrees latitude, from Misteca to the mines of Zimapan, it approximates to the eastern coast. Nearly in the parallel of the city of Mexico, between Toluca, Xalapa and Cordoba, it attains its maximum height; several colossal summits rising to 2400 and 2770 toises. Farther north the chain called Sierra Madre runs north 40 degrees west towards San Miguel el Grande and Guanaxuato. Near the latter town (latitude 21 degrees 0 minutes 15 seconds) where the richest silver mines of the known world are situated, it widens in an extraordinary degree and separates into three branches. The most eastern branch advances towards Charcas and the Real de Catorce, and lowers progressively (turning to north-east) in the ancient kingdom of Leon, in the province of Cohahuila and Texas. That branch is prolonged from the Rio Colorado de Texas, crossing the Arkansas near the confluence of the Mississippi and the Missouri (latitude 38 degrees 51 minutes). In those countries it bears the name of the Mountains of Ozark,* and attains 300 toises of height. (* Ozark is at once the ancient name of Arkansas and of the tribe of Quawpaw Indians who inhabit the banks of that great river. The culminant point of the Mountains of Ozark is in latitude 37 1/2 degrees, between the sources of the White and Osage rivers.) It has been supposed that on the east of the Mississippi (latitude 44 to 46 degrees) the Wisconsin Hills, which stretch out to north-north-east in the direction of Lake Superior, may be a continuation of the mountains of Ozark. Their metallic wealth seems to denote that they are a prolongation of the eastern Cordillera of Mexico. The western branch or Cordillera occupies a part of the province of Guadalajara and stretches by Culiacan, Aripe and the auriferous lands of the Pimeria Alta and La Sonora, as far as the banks of the Rio Gila (latitude 33 to 34 degrees), one of the most ancient dwellings of the Aztek nations. We shall soon see that this western chain appears to be linked by the spurs that advance to the west, with the maritime Alps of California. Finally, the central Cordillera of Anahuac, which is the most elevated, runs first from south-east to north-west, by Zacatecas towards Durango, and afterwards from south to north, by Chihuahua, towards New Mexico. It takes successively the names of Sierra de Acha, Sierra de Los Mimbres, Sierra Verde, and Sierra de las Grullas, and about the 29 and 39 degrees of latitude, it is connected by spurs with two lateral chains, those of the Texas and La Sonora, which renders the separation of the chains more imperfect than the trifurcations of the Andes in South America.

That part of the Cordilleras of Mexico which is richest in silver beds and veins, is comprehended between the parallels of Oaxaca and Cosiquiriachi (latitude 16 1/2 to 29 degrees); the alluvial soil that contains disseminated gold extends some degrees still further northwards. It is a very striking phenomenon that the gold-washing of Cinaloa and Sonora, like that of Barbacoas and Choco on the south and north of the isthmus of Panama, is uniformly situated on the west of the central chain, on the descent opposite the Pacific. The traces of a still-burning volcanic fire which was no longer seen, on a length of 200 leagues, from Pasto and Popayan to the gulf of Nicoya (latitude 1 1/4 to 9 1/2 degrees), become very frequent on the western coast of Guatimala (latitude 9 1/2 to 16 degrees); these traces of fire again cease in the gneiss-granite mountains of Oaxaca, and re-appear, perhaps for the last time, towards the north, in the central Cordillera of Anahuac, between latitude 18 1/4 and 19 1/2 degrees, where the volcanoes of Taxtla, Orizaba, Popocatepetl, Toluca, Jorullo and Colima appear to be situated in a crevice* extending from east-south-east to west-north-west, from one ocean to the other. (* On this zone of volcanoes is the parallel of the greatest heights of New Spain. If the survey of Captain Basil Hall afford results alike certain in latitude and in longitude, the volcano of Colima is north of the parallel of Puerto de Navidad in latitude 19 degrees 36 minutes; and, like the volcano of Tuxtla, if not beyond the zone, at least beyond the average parallel of the volcanic fire of Mexico, which parallel seems to be between 18 degrees 59 minutes and 19 degrees 12 minutes.) This line of summits, several of which enter the limit of perpetual snow, and which are the loftiest of the Cordilleras from the peak of Tolima (latitude 40 degrees 46 minutes north), is almost perpendicular to the great axis of the chain of Guatimala and Anahuac, advancing to the 27th parallel, uniformly north 42 degrees east. A characteristic feature of every knot, or widening of the Cordilleras, is that the grouping of the summits is independent of the general direction of the axis. The backs of the mountains in New Spain form very elevated plains, along which carriages can roll for an extent of 400 leagues, from the capital to Santa-Fe and Taos, near the sources of Rio del Norte. This immense table-land, in 19 and 24 1/2 degrees, is constantly at the height of from 950 to 1200 toises, that is, at the elevation of the passes of the Great Saint Bernard and the Splugen. We find on the back of the Cordilleras of Anahuac, which lower progressively from the city of Mexico towards Taos, a succession of basins: they are separated by hills little striking to the eye of the traveller because they rise only from 250 to 400 toises above the surrounding plains. The basins are sometimes closed, like the valley of Tenochtitlan, where lie the great Alpine lakes, and sometimes they exhibit traces of ancient ejections, destitute of water.

Between latitude 33 and 38 degrees, the Rio del Norte forms, in its upper course, a great longitudinal valley; and the central chain seems here to be divided into several parallel ranges. This distribution continues northward, in the Rocky Mountains,* where, between the parallels of 37 and 41 degrees, several summits covered with eternal snow (Spanish Peak, James Peak and Big Horn) are from 1600 to 1870 toises of absolute height. (* The Rocky Mountains have been at different periods designated by the names of Chypewyan, Missouri, Columbian, Caous, Stony, Shining and Sandy Mountains.) Towards latitude 40 degrees south of the sources of the Paduca, a tributary of the Rio de la Plata, a branch known by the name of the Black Hills, detaches itself towards the north-east from the central chain. The Rocky Mountains at first seem to lower considerably in 46 and 48 degrees; and then rise to 48 and 49 degrees, where their tops are from 1200 to 1300 toises, and their ridge near 950 toises. Between the sources of the Missouri and the River Lewis, one of the tributaries of the Oregon or Columbia, the Cordilleras form in widening, an elbow resembling the knot of Cuzco. There, also, on the eastern declivity of the Rocky Mountains, is the partition of water between the Caribbean Sea and the Polar Sea. This point corresponds with those in the Andes of South America, at the spur of Cochabamba, on the east, latitude 19 degrees 20 minutes south; and in the Alto de los Robles (latitude 2 degrees 20 minutes north), on the west. The ridge that separates the Rocky Mountains extends from west to east, towards Lake Superior, between the basins of the Missouri and those of Lake Winnipeg and the Slave Lake. The central Cordillera of Mexico and the Rocky Mountains follow the direction north 10 degrees west, from latitude 25 to 38 degrees; the chain from that point to the Polar Sea prolongs in the direction north 24 degrees west, and ends in the parallel 69 degrees, at the mouth of the Mackenzie River.*

(* The eastern boundary of the Rocky Mountains lies:—
In 38 degrees latitude : 107 degrees 20 minutes longitude.
In 40 degrees latitude : 108 degrees 30 minutes longitude.
In 63 degrees latitude : 124 degrees 40 minutes longitude.
In 68 degrees latitude : 130 degrees 30 minutes longitude.)

In thus developing the structure of the Cordilleras of the Andes from 56 degrees south to beyond the Arctic circle, we see that its northern extremity (longitude 130 degrees 30 minutes) is nearly 61 degrees of longitude west of its southern extremity (longitude 60 degrees 40 minutes); this is the effect of the long-continued direction from south-east to north-west north of the isthmus of Panama. By the extraordinary breadth of the New Continent, in the 30 and 60 degrees north latitude, the Cordillera of the Andes, continually approaching nearer to the western coast in the southern hemisphere, is removed 400 leagues on the north from the source of the Rio de la Paz. The Andes of Chile may be considered as maritime Alps,* (* Geognostically speaking, a littoral chain is not a range of mountains forming of itself the coast; this name is extended to a chain separated from the coast by a narrow plain.) while, in their most northern continuation, the Rocky Mountains are a chain in the interior of a continent. There is, no doubt, between latitude 23 and 60 degrees from Cape Saint Lucas in California, to Alaska on the western coast of the Sea of Kamschatka, a real littoral Cordillera; but it forms a system of mountains almost entirely distinct from the Andes of Mexico and Canada. This system, which we shall call the Cordillera of California, or of New Albion, is linked between latitude 33 and 34 degrees with the Pimeria alta, and the western branch of the Cordilleras of Anahuac; and between latitude 45 and 53 degrees, with the Rocky Mountains, by transversal ridges and spurs that widen towards the east. Travellers who may at some future time pass over the unknown land between Cape Mendocino and the source of the Rio Colorado, may perhaps inform us whether the connexion of the maritime Alps of California or New Albion, with the western branch of the Cordilleras of Mexico, resembles that which, notwithstanding the depression, or rather total interruption observed on the west of the Rio Atrato, is admitted by geographers to exist between the mountains of the isthmus of Panama and the western branch of the Andes of New Grenada. The maritime Alps, in the peninsula of Old California, rise progressively towards the north in the Sierra of Santa Lucia (latitude 34 1/2 degrees), in the Sierra of San Marcos (latitude 37 to 38 degrees) and in the Snowy Mountains near Cape Mendocino (latitude 39 degrees 41 minutes); the last seem to attain at least the height of 1500 toises. From Cape Mendocino the chain follows the coast of the Pacific, but at the distance of from twenty to twenty-five leagues. Between the lofty summits of Mount Hood and Mount Saint Helen, in latitude 45 3/4 degrees, the chain is broken by the River Columbia. In New Hanover, New Cornwall and New Norfolk these rents of a rocky coast are repeated, these geologic phenomena of the fjords that characterize western Patagonia and Norway. At the point where the Cordillera turns towards the west (latitude 58 3/4 degrees, longitude 139 degrees 40 minutes) there are two volcanic peaks, one of which (Mount Saint Elias) perhaps equals Cotopaxi in height; the other (Fair-Weather Mountain) equals the height of Mount Rosa. The elevation of the former exceeds all the summits of the Cordilleras of Mexico and the Rocky Mountains, north of the parallel 19 1/4 degrees; it is even the culminant point in the northern hemisphere, of the whole known world north of 50 degrees of latitude. North-west of the peaks of Saint Elias and Fair-Weather the chain of California widens considerably in the interior of Russian America. Volcanoes multiply in number as we advance westward, in the peninsula of Alaska and the Fox Islands, where the volcano Ajagedan rises to the height of 1175 toises above the level of the sea. Thus the chain of the maritime Alps of California appears to be undermined by subterraneous fires at its two extremities; on the north in 60 degrees of latitude, and on the south, in 28 degrees, in the volcanoes of the Virgins.* (* Volcanes de las Virgenes. The highest summit of Old California, the Cerro de la Giganta (700 toises), appears to be also an extinguished volcano.) If it were certain that the mountains of California belong to the western branch of the Andes of Anahuac, it might be said that the volcanic fire, still burning, abandons the central Cordillera when it recedes from the coast, that is, from the volcano of Colima; and that the fire is borne on the north-west by the peninsula of Old California, Mount Saint Elias, and the peninsula of Alaska, towards the Aleutian Islands and Kamschatka.

I shall terminate this sketch of the structure of the Andes by recapitulating the principal features that characterize the Cordilleras, north-west of Darien.

Latitude 8 to 11 degrees. Mountains of the isthmus of Panama, Veragua and Costa Rica, slightly linked to the western chain of New Grenada, which is that of Choco.

Latitude 11 to 16 degrees. Mountains of Nicaragua and Guatimala; line of volcanoes north 50 degrees west, for the most part still burning, from the gulf of Nicoya to the volcano of Soconusco.

Latitude 16 to 18 degrees. Mountains of gneiss-granite in the province of Oaxaca.

Latitude 18 1/2 to 19 1/2 degrees. Trachytic knot of Anahuac, parallel with the Nevados and the burning volcanoes of Mexico.

Latitude 19 1/2 to 20 degrees. Knot of the metaliferous mountains of Guanaxuato and Zacatecas.

Latitude 21 3/4 to 22 degrees. Division of the Andes of Anahuac into three chains:

Eastern chain (that of Potosi and Texas), continued by the Ozark and Wisconsin mountains, as far as Lake Superior.

Central chain (of Durango, New Mexico and the Rocky Mountains), sending on the north of the source of the river Platte (latitude 42 degrees) a branch (the Black hills) to north-east, widening greatly between the parallels 46 and 50 degrees, and lowering progressively as it approaches the mouth of Mackenzie River (latitude 68 degrees).

Western chain (of Cinaloa and Sonora). Linked by spurs to the maritime Alps, or mountains of California.

We have yet no means of judging with precision the elevation of the Andes south of the knot of the mountains of Loxa (south latitude 3 degrees 5), but we know that on the north of that knot the Cordilleras rise five times higher than the majestic elevation of 2600 toises:

In the group of Quito, 0 to 2 degrees south latitude (Chimborazo, Antisano, Cayambe, Cotopaxi, Collanes, Yliniza, Sangay, Tungurahua.)

In the group of Cundinamarca, latitude 4 3/4 degrees north (peak of Tolima, north of the Andes of Quindiu).

In the group of Anahuac, from latitude 18 degrees 59 minutes to 19 degrees 12 minutes (Popocatepetl or the Great Volcano of Mexico, and Peak of Orizaba). If we consider the maritime Alps or mountains of California and New Norfolk, either as a continuation of the western chain of Mexico, that of Sonora, or as being linked by spurs to the central chain, that of the Rocky Mountains, we may add to the three preceding groups:

The group of Russian America, from latitude 60 to 70 degrees (Mount Saint Elias). Over an extent of 63 degrees of latitude, I know only twelve summits of the Andes which reach the height of 2600 toises, and consequently exceed by 140 toises, the height of Mont Blanc. Only three of these twelve summits are situated north of the isthmus of Panama.