<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></SPAN>CHAPTER V.</h2>
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<p>AMERICAN SYMPATHY—I TAKE AN HOTEL IN CRUCES—MY CUSTOMERS—LOLA
MONTES—MISS HAYES AND THE BISHOP—GAMBLING IN
CRUCES—QUARRELS AMONGST THE TRAVELLERS—NEW GRANADA
MILITARY—THE THIEVES OF CRUCES—A NARROW ESCAPE.</p>
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<p>When it became known that their “yellow doctress” had
the cholera, I must do the people of Cruces the justice to
say that they gave her plenty of sympathy, and would
have shown their regard for her more actively, had there
been any occasion. Indeed, when I most wanted quiet, it
was difficult to keep out the sympathising Americans and
sorrowing natives who came to inquire after me; and who,
not content with making their inquiries, and leaving their
offerings of blankets, flannel, etc., must see with their own
eyes what chance the yellow woman had of recovery. The
rickety door of my little room could never be kept shut
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</SPAN></span>
for many minutes together. A visitor would open it
silently, poke his long face in with an expression of sympathy
that almost made me laugh in spite of my pain,
draw it out again, between the narrowest possible opening,
as if he were anxious to admit as little air as he could;
while another would come in bodily, and after looking at
me curiously and inquisitively, as he would eye a horse or
nigger he had some thoughts of making a bid for, would
help to carpet my room, with the result perhaps of his
meditations, and saying, gravely, “Air you better, Aunty
Seacole, now? Isn’t there a something we can du for you,
ma’am?” would as gravely give place to another and another
yet, until I was almost inclined to throw something at
them, or call them bad names, like the Scotch king does
the ghosts in the play.<SPAN name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</SPAN> But, fortunately, the attack was a
very mild one, and by the next day all danger had gone
by, although I still felt weak and exhausted.</p>
<p>After a few weeks, the first force of the cholera was
spent, and although it lingered with us, as though loath to
leave so fine a resting-place, for some months, it no longer
gave us much alarm; and before long, life went on as
briskly and selfishly as ever with the Cruces survivors,
and the terrible past was conveniently forgotten. Perhaps
it is so everywhere; but the haste with which the Cruces
people buried their memory seemed indecent. Old houses
found new masters; the mules new drivers; the great
Spaniard chose another pretty woman, and had a grand,
poor, dirty wedding, and was married by the same lazy
black priest who had buried his wife, dead a few months
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</SPAN></span>
back; and very likely they would all have hastened as
quickly to forget their doctress, had circumstances permitted
them: but every now and then one of them sickened
and died of the old complaint; and the reputation I had
established founded for me a considerable practice. The
Americans in the place gladly retained me as their medical
attendant, and in one way or other gave me plenty to do;
but, in addition to this, I determined to follow my original
scheme of keeping an hotel in Cruces.</p>
<p>Right opposite my brother’s Independent Hotel there
was a place to let which it was considered I could adapt to
my purpose. It was a mere tumble-down hut, with wattled
sides, and a rotten thatched roof, containing two rooms,
one small enough to serve as a bedroom. For this charming
residence—very openly situated, and well ventilated—twenty
pounds a month was considered a fair and by no
means exorbitant rent. And yet I was glad to take possession
of it; and in a few days had hung its rude walls with
calico of gayest colour in stripes, with an exuberance of
fringes, frills, and bows (the Americans love show dearly),
and prepared it to accommodate fifty dinner guests. I had
determined that it should be simply a <i>table d’hôte</i>, and that
I would receive no lodgers. Once, and once only, I relaxed
this rule in favour of two American women, who sent me to
sleep by a lengthy quarrel of words, woke me in the night
to witness its crisis in a fisticuff <i>duello</i>, and left in the morning,
after having taken a fancy to some of my moveables
which were most easily removeable. I had on my staff my
black servant Mac, the little girl I have before alluded to, and
a native cook. I had had many opportunities of seeing how
my brother conducted his business; and adopted his tariff
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</SPAN></span>
of charges. For an ordinary dinner my charge was four
shillings; eggs and chickens were, as I have before said,
distinct luxuries, and fetched high prices.</p>
<p>Four crowds generally passed through Cruces every
month. In these were to be found passengers to and from
Chili, Peru, and Lima, as well as California and America.
The distance from Cruces to Panama was not great—only
twenty miles, in fact; but the journey, from the want of
roads and the roughness of the country, was a most fatiguing
one. In some parts—as I found when I made the
journey, in company with my brother—it was almost impassable;
and for more than half the distance, three miles
an hour was considered splendid progress. The great
majority of the travellers were rough, rude men, of dirty,
quarrelsome habits; the others were more civilized and
more dangerous. And it was not long before I grew very
tired of life in Cruces, although I made money rapidly, and
pressed my brother to return to Kingston. Poor fellow!
it would have been well for him had he done so; for he
stayed only to find a grave on the Isthmus of Panama.</p>
<p>The company at my <i>table d’hôte</i> was not over select;
and it was often very difficult for an unprotected female to
manage them, although I always did my best to put them
in good humour. Among other comforts, I used to hire a
black barber, for the rather large consideration of two
pounds, to shave my male guests. You can scarcely conceive
the pleasure and comfort an American feels in a clean
chin; and I believe my barber attracted considerable custom
to the British Hotel at Cruces. I had a little out-house
erected for his especial convenience; and there, well provided
with towels, and armed with plenty of razors, a
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</SPAN></span>
brush of extraordinary size, and a foaming sea of lather,
José shaved the new-comers. The rivalry to get within
reach of his huge brush was very great; and the threats
used by the neglected, when the grinning black was considered
guilty of any interested partiality, were of the
fiercest description.</p>
<p>This duty over, they and their coarser female companions—many
of them well known to us, for they travelled
backwards and forwards across the Isthmus, hanging
on to the foolish gold-finders—attacked the dinner, very
often with great lack of decency. It was no use giving
them carving-knives and forks, for very often they laid
their own down to insert a dirty hairy hand into a full
dish; while the floor soon bore evidences of the great
national American habit of expectoration. Very often
quarrels would arise during the progress of dinner; and
more than once I thought the knives, which they nearly
swallowed at every mouthful, would have been turned
against one another. It was, I always thought, extremely
fortunate that the reckless men rarely stimulated their
excitable passions with strong drink. Tea and coffee were
the common beverages of the Americans; Englishmen, and
men of other nations, being generally distinguishable by
their demand for wine and spirits. But the Yankee’s
capacity for swilling tea and coffee was prodigious. I saw
one man drink ten cups of coffee; and finding his appetite
still unsatisfied, I ran across to my brother for advice.
There was a merry twinkle in his eyes as he whispered,
“I always put in a good spoonful of salt after the sixth
cup. It chokes them off admirably.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</SPAN></span>
It was no easy thing to avoid being robbed and cheated
by the less scrupulous travellers; although I think it was
only the ’cutest Yankee who stood any fair chance of outwitting
me. I remember an instance of the biter bit, which
I will narrate, hoping it may make my reader laugh as
heartily as its recollection makes me. He was a tall, thin
Yankee, with a furtive glance of the eyes, and an amazing
appetite, which he seemed nothing loath to indulge: his
appetite for eggs especially seemed unbounded. Now, I
have more than once said how expensive eggs were; and
this day they happened to be eightpence apiece. Our plan
was to charge every diner according to the number of shells
found upon his plate. Now, I noticed how eagerly my thin
guest attacked my eggs, and marvelled somewhat at the
scanty pile of shells before him. My suspicions once excited,
I soon fathomed my Yankee friend’s dodge. As soon
as he had devoured the eggs, he conveyed furtively the
shells beneath the table, and distributed them impartially
at the feet of his companions. I gave my little black maid
a piece of chalk, and instructions; and creeping under the
table, she counted the scattered shells, and chalked the
number on the tail of his coat. And when he came up to
pay his score, he gave up his number of eggs in a loud
voice; and when I contradicted him, and referred to the
coat-<em>tale</em> in corroboration of <em>my</em> score, there was a general
laugh against him. But there was a nasty expression in
his cat-like eyes, and an unpleasant allusion to mine, which
were not agreeable, and dissuaded me from playing any
more practical jokes upon the Yankees.</p>
<p>I followed my brother’s example closely, and forbade
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</SPAN></span>
all gambling in my hotel. But I got some idea of its fruits
from the cases brought to me for surgical treatment from
the faro and monte tables. Gambling at Cruces, and on the
Isthmus generally, was a business by which money was
wormed out of the gold-seekers and gold-finders. No attempt
was made to render it attractive, as I have seen done
elsewhere. The gambling-house was often plainer than our
hotels; and but for the green tables, with their piles of
money and gold-dust, watched over by a well-armed determined
banker, and the eager gamblers around, you would
not know that you were in the vicinity of a spot which the
English at home designate by a very decided and extreme
name. A Dr. Casey—everybody familiar with the Americans
knows their fondness for titles—owned the most favoured table
in Cruces; and this, although he was known
to be a reckless and unscrupulous villain. Most of them
knew that he had been hunted out of San Francisco; and
at that time—years before the Vigilance Committee commenced
their labours of purification—a man too bad for
that city must have been a prodigy of crime: and yet, and
although he was violent-tempered, and had a knack of
referring the slightest dispute to his revolver, his table
was always crowded; probably because—the greatest
rogues have some good qualities—he was honest in his
way, and played fairly.</p>
<p>Occasionally some distinguished passengers passed on
the upward and downward tides of rascality and ruffianism,
that swept periodically through Cruces. Came one day,
Lola Montes, in the full zenith of her evil fame, bound for
California, with a strange suite. A good-looking, bold
woman, with fine, bad eyes, and a determined bearing;
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</SPAN></span>
dressed ostentatiously in perfect male attire, with shirt-collar
turned down over a velvet lapelled coat, richly worked
shirt-front, black hat, French unmentionables, and natty,
polished boots with spurs. She carried in her hand a
handsome riding-whip, which she could use as well in the
streets of Cruces as in the towns of Europe; for an impertinent
American, presuming—perhaps not unnaturally—upon
her reputation, laid hold jestingly of the tails of her
long coat, and as a lesson received a cut across his face that
must have marked him for some days. I did not wait to
see the row that followed, and was glad when the wretched
woman rode off on the following morning. A very different
notoriety followed her at some interval of time—Miss
Catherine Hayes, on her successful singing tour, who disappointed
us all by refusing to sing at Cruces; and after
her came an English bishop from Australia, who need have
been a member of the church militant to secure his pretty
wife from the host of admirers she had gained during her
day’s journey from Panama.</p>
<p>Very quarrelsome were the majority of the crowds,
holding life cheap, as all bad men strangely do—equally
prepared to take or lose it upon the slightest provocation.
Few tales of horror in Panama could be questioned on the
ground of improbability. Not less partial were many of
the natives of Cruces to the use of the knife; preferring,
by the way, to administer sly stabs in the back, when no
one was by to see the dastard blow dealt. Terribly bullied
by the Americans were the boatmen and muleteers, who
were reviled, shot, and stabbed by these free and independent
filibusters, who would fain whop all creation abroad as
they do their slaves at home. Whenever any Englishmen
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</SPAN></span>
were present, and in a position to interfere with success,
this bullying was checked; and they found, instead of the
poor Spanish Indians, foemen worthy of their steel or lead.
I must do them credit to say, that they were never loath to
fight any one that desired that passing excitement, and
thought little of ending their journey of life abruptly at
the wretched wayside town of Cruces. It very often happened
so, and over many a hasty head and ready hand have
I seen the sod roughly pressed down, their hot hearts stilled
suddenly in some senseless quarrel. And so in time I grew
to have some considerable experience in the treatment of
knife and gun-shot wounds.</p>
<p>One night I heard a great noise outside my window,
and on rising found a poor boatman moaning piteously, and
in a strange jumble of many languages begging me to help
him. At first I was afraid to open the door, on account of
the noisy mob which soon joined him, for villainy was very
shrewd at Cruces; but at last I admitted him, and found
that the poor wretch’s ears had been cruelly split by some
hasty citizen of the United States. I stitched them up as
well as I could, and silenced his cries. And at any time,
if you happened to be near the river when a crowd were
arriving or departing, your ears would be regaled with a
choice chorus of threats, of which ear-splitting, eye-gouging,
cow-hiding, and the application of revolvers were the
mildest. Against the negroes, of whom there were many
in the Isthmus, and who almost invariably filled the municipal
offices, and took the lead in every way, the Yankees
had a strong prejudice; but it was wonderful to see how
freedom and equality elevate men, and the same negro who
perhaps in Tennessee would have cowered like a beaten
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</SPAN></span>
child or dog beneath an American’s uplifted hand, would
face him boldly here, and by equal courage and superior
physical strength cow his old oppressor.</p>
<p>When more than ordinary squabbles occurred in the
street or at the gambling-tables, the assistance of the
soldier-police of New Granada was called in, and the affair
sometimes assumed the character of a regular skirmish.
The soldiers—I wish I could speak better of them—were a
dirty, cowardly, indolent set, more prone to use their knives
than their legitimate arms, and bore old rusty muskets, and
very often marched unshod. Their officers were in outward
appearance a few shades superior to the men they commanded,
but, as respects military proficiency, were their equals.
Add to this description of their <em>personnel</em> the well-known
fact, that you might commit the grossest injustice, and
could obtain the simplest justice only by lavish bribery,
and you may form some idea of our military protectors.</p>
<p>Very practised and skilful in thieving were the native
population of Cruces—I speak of the majority, and except
the negroes—always more inclined to do a dishonest night’s
labour at great risk, than an honest day’s work for fair
wages; for justice was always administered strictly to the
poor natives—it was only the foreigners who could evade
it or purchase exemption. Punishment was severe; and in
extreme cases the convicts were sent to Carthagena, there
to suffer imprisonment of a terrible character. Indeed,
from what I heard of the New Granada prisons, I thought
no other country could match them, and continued to think
so until I read how the ingenuity in cruelty of his Majesty
the King of Naples put the torturers of the New Granada
Republic to the blush.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</SPAN></span>
I generally avoided claiming the protection of the law
whilst on the Isthmus, for I found it was—as is the case in
civilized England from other causes—rather an expensive
luxury. Once only I took a thief caught in the act before
the alcalde, and claimed the administration of justice. The
court-house was a low bamboo shed, before which some
dirty Spanish-Indian soldiers were lounging; and inside,
the alcalde, a negro, was reclining in a dirty hammock,
smoking coolly, hearing evidence, and pronouncing judgment
upon the wretched culprits, who were trembling
before his dusky majesty. I had attended him while suffering
from an attack of cholera, and directly he saw me
he rose from his hammock, and received me in a ceremonious,
grand manner, and gave orders that coffee should be
brought to me. He had a very pretty white wife, who
joined us; and then the alcalde politely offered me a
<i>cigarito</i>—having declined which, he listened to my statement
with great attention. All this, however, did not
prevent my leaving the necessary fee in furtherance of
justice, nor his accepting it. Its consequence was, that
the thief, instead of being punished as a criminal, was
ordered to pay me the value of the stolen goods; which,
after weeks of hesitation and delay, she eventually did, in
pearls, combs, and other curiosities.</p>
<p>Whenever an American was arrested by the New Granada
authorities, justice had a hard struggle for the
mastery, and rarely obtained it. Once I was present at
the court-house, when an American was brought in heavily
ironed, charged with having committed a highway robbery
—if I may use the term where there were no roads—on
some travellers from Chili. Around the frightened soldiers
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</SPAN></span>
swelled an angry crowd of brother Americans, abusing and
threatening the authorities in no measured terms, all of
them indignant that a nigger should presume to judge one
of their countrymen. At last their violence so roused the
sleepy alcalde, that he positively threw himself from his
hammock, laid down his cigarito, and gave such very determined
orders to his soldiers that he succeeded in checking
the riot. Then, with an air of decision that puzzled everybody,
he addressed the crowd, declaring angrily, that since
the Americans came the country had known no peace, that
robberies and crimes of every sort had increased, and ending
by expressing his determination to make strangers respect
the laws of the Republic, and to retain the prisoner; and
if found guilty, punish him as he deserved. The Americans
seemed too astonished at the audacity of the black man,
who dared thus to beard them, to offer any resistance; but I
believe that the prisoner was allowed ultimately to escape.</p>
<p>I once had a narrow escape from the thieves of Cruces.
I had been down to Chagres for some stores, and returning,
late in the evening, too tired to put away my packages,
had retired to rest at once. My little maid, who was not
so fatigued as I was, and slept more lightly, woke me in
the night to listen to a noise in the thatch, at the further
end of the store; but I was so accustomed to hear the half-starved
mules of Cruces munching my thatch, that I
listened lazily for a few minutes, and then went unsuspiciously
into another heavy sleep. I do not know how
long it was before I was again awoke by the child’s loud
screams and cries of “Hombro—landro;” and sure enough,
by the light of the dying fire, I saw a fellow stealing away
with my dress, in the pocket of which was my purse. I was
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</SPAN></span>
about to rush forward, when the fire gleamed on a villainous-looking
knife in his hand; so I stood still, and screamed
loudly, hoping to arouse my brother over the way. For
a moment the thief seemed inclined to silence me, and had
taken a few steps forward, when I took up an old rusty
horse-pistol which my brother had given me that I might
look determined, and snatching down the can of ground
coffee, proceeded to prime it, still screaming as loudly as my
strong lungs would permit, until the rascal turned tail and
stole away through the roof. The thieves usually buried
their spoil like dogs, as they were; but this fellow had
only time to hide it behind a bush, where it was found on
the following morning, and claimed by me.</p>
<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTE:</h3>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></SPAN> Mrs. Seacole very likely refers to Macbeth. But it was the
witches he abused.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p>
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