A FRIEND IN NEED. 129 cort. Mr. S., who had charge of my house during my absence, and had hoisted the American flag during the attack upon the city, had lived so long in that country, and had beheld so many scenes of horror, that he was not easily disturbed, and knew exactly what to do. He accompanied me to the cabildo, where we found the captain sitting bolt upright within the railing, and the corregidor and his clerk, with pen, ink, and paper, and ominous formality, examining him. His face brightened at sight of the only man in Guatimala who took the least interest in his fate. Fortunately, the corregidor was an acquaintance, who had been pleased with the interest I took in the sword of Alvarado, an interesting relic in his custody, and was one of the many whom I found in that country proud of showing attentions to a foreign agent. I claimed the captain as my travelling companion, said that we had a rough journey together, and I did not like to lose sight of him. He welcomed me back to Guatimala, and appreciated the peril I must have encountered in meeting on the road the tyrant Morazan. The captain took advantage of the opportunity to detach himself, without any compunctions, from such dangerous fellowship, and we conversed till it was too dark to write, when I suggested that, as it was dangerous to be out at night, I wished to take the captain home with me, and would be responsible for his forthcoming. He assented with great courtesy, and told the captain to return at nine o'clock the next morning. The captain was immensely relieved; but he had already made up his mind that he had come to Guatimala on a trading expedition, and to make great use of his gold chains. The next day the examination was resumed. The VOL. II.-R captain certainly did not commit himself by any confessions; indeed, the revolution in his sentiments was mos extraordinary. The Guatimala air was fatal to partialities for Morazan. The examination, by favour of the corregidor, was satisfactory; but the captain was advised to leave the city. In case of any excitement he would be in danger. Carrera was expected from Quezaltenango in a few days, and if he took it up, which he was not unlikely to do, it might be a bad business. The captain did not need any urging. A council was held to determine which way he should go, and the road to the port was the only one open. He had a horse and one cargo-mule, and wanted another for those trunks. I had seven in my yard, and told him to take one. On a bright morning he pulled off his frockcoat, put on his travelling dress, mounted, and set off for Balize. I watched him as he rode down the street till he was out of sight. Poor captain, where is he now? The next time I saw him was at my own house in New-York. He was taken sick at Balize, and got on board a brig bound for Boston, was there at the time of my arrival, and came on to see me; and the last that I saw of him, afraid to return across the country to get the account sales of his ship, he was about to embark for the Isthmus of Panama, cross over, and go up the Pacific. I was knocked about myself in that country, but I think the captain will not soon forget his campaign with Morazan. At this time I received a visit from a countryman, whom I regretted not to have seen before. It was Dr. Weems, of Maryland, who had resided several years at the Antigua, and lately returned from a visit to the United States, with an appointment as consul. He came to consult me in regard to the result of NEW DANGERS IN PROSPECT. 131 my search for a government, as he was on the track with his own credentials. The doctor advised me not to undertake the journey to Palenque. In my race from Nicaragua I had cheered myself with the idea, that, on reaching Guatimala, all difficulty was over, and that our journey to Palenque would be attended only by the hardships of travelling in a country destitute of accommodations; but, unfortunately, the horizon in that direction was lowering. The whole mass of the Indian population of Los Altos was in a state of excitement, and there were whispers of a general rising and massacre of the whites. General Prem, to whom I have before referred, and his wife, while travelling toward Mexico, had been attacked by a band of assassins; he himself was left on the ground for dead, and his wife murdered, her fingers cut off, and the rings torn from them. Lieutenant Nichols, the aiddecamp of Colonel M'Donald, arrived from the Balize with a report that Captain Caddy and Mr. Walker, who had set out for Palenque by the Balize River, had been speared by the Indians; and there was a rumour of some dreadful atrocity committed by Carrera in Quezaltenango, and that he was hurrying back from that place infuriate, with the intention of bringing all the prisoners out into the plaza and shooting them. Every friend in Guatimala, and Mr. Chatfield particularly, urged us not to undertake the journey. We felt that it was a most inauspicious moment, and almost shrunk; I have no hesitation in saying that it was a matter of most serious consideration whether we should not abandon it altogether and go home; but we had set out with the purpose of going to Palenque, and could not return without seeing it. Among the petty difficulties of fitting ourselves I may mention that we wanted four iron chains for trunks, but could only get two, for every blacksmith in the place was making chains for the prisoners. In a week from the time of my arrival everything was ready for our departure. We provided ourselves with all the facilities. and safeguards that could be procured. Besides passports, the government furnished us special letters of recommendation to all the corregidors; a flattering notice appeared in the government paper, El Tiempo, mentioning my travels through the provinces and my intended route, and recommending me to hospitality; and, upon the strength of the letter of the Archbishop of Baltimore, the venerable provesor gave me a letter of recommendation to all the curas under his charge. But these were not enough; Carrera's name was worth more than them all, and we waited two days for his return from Quezaltenango. On the sixth of April, early in the morning, he entered the city. At about nine o'clock I called at his house, and was informed that he was in bed, had ridden all night, and would not rise till the afternoon. The rumour of the atrocity committed at that place was confirmed. After dinner, in company with Mr. Savage, I made my last stroll in the suburbs of the city. I never felt, as at that moment, its exceeding beauty of position, and for the third tinie I visited the hospital and cemetery of San Juan de Dios. In front was the hospital, a noble structure, formerly a convent, supported principally by the active charity of Don Mariano Aycinena. In the centre of the courtyard was a fine fountain, and beyond it the cemetery, which was established at the time of the cholera. The entrance was by a broad passage with a high wall on each side, intended for the burial of "her A BURIAL-PLACE. 133 etics." There was but one grave, and the stone bore the inscription Teodoro Ashadl, de la Religione Reformada. At the end of this passage was a deadhouse, in which lay, on separate beds, the bodies of two men, both poor, one entirely naked, with his legs drawn up, as though no friend had been by to straighten them, and the other wrapped in matting. On the right of the passage a door opened into a square enclosure, in which were vaults built above the ground, bearing the names of the wealthy inhabitants of the city. On the left a door opened into an enclosure running in the rear of the deadhouse, about seven hundred and fifty feet long, and three hundred wide. The walls were high and thick, and the graves were square recesses lengthwise in the wall, three tiers deep, each closed up with a flat stone, on which the name of the occupant was inscribed. These, too, were for the rich. The area was filled with the graves of the common people, and in one place was a square of new-made earth, under which lay the bodies of about four hundred men killed in the attack upon the city. The table of land commanded a view of the green plain of Guatimala and the volcanoes of the Antigua. Beautiful flowers were blooming over the graves, and a voice seemed to say, "Oh do not pluck these flowers, A bier approached with the body of a woman, which was buried without any coffin. Near by was a line of new-made graves waiting for tenants. They were dug through skeletons, and sculls and bones lay in heaps beside them. I rolled three sculls together with my foot |