Mr. President and Gentlemen of the U. S. Naval Institute:
As the subject that I am to bring to your notice has been before the world, as one of the leading questions of the day, for more than three hundred years, it would seem that some apology should be made for bringing it forward to occupy your attention this evening. My apology, then, shall be two-fold. In the first place, in spite of all that has been said and written, the object is as yet unaccomplished; the isthmus still stands undivided, and he who would to-day sail the great South Sea can do no better than follow the track of him who first navigated its waters. In the second place, in spite of all the attempts that have been made, the isthmus has never been satisfactorily explored until within the past four years.
In view of the formidable nature of the undertaking, it is not, perhaps, surprising that the realization of the canal project should still he in the future; but that the limited region which alone could afford a solution of the problem of its practicability should so long have been allowed to remain unexplored, is inexplicable. Strange as this appears, however, it is nevertheless strictly true. Six years ago the territory of the Isthmus of Darien east of the Panama Railroad was almost a terra incognita, and, according to most excellent authority, there did not then exist in the libraries of the world the means of determining, even approximately, the most practicable route for a ship-canal across the isthmus.
I propose, with your indulgence this evening, by a brief review of the results of the recent explorations of Commander Selfridge, to show that this long-standing reproach upon the intelligence of the age is no longer true.
In considering the character of the Isthmus of Darien with reference to its capability of affording a practicable route for a ship-canal, the absolute necessity for a capacious and well-sheltered harbor as a starting point upon the Atlantic side restricts the range of enquiry at once to the vicinity of the three great gulfs which indent its eastern coast. Various terminal points upon the Pacific side have been suggested, but the proposed lines all radiate of necessity from the Gulf of San Bias, Caledonia Bay, or the Gulf of Darien; for these afford the only shelter from the heavy sea that rolls in upon that rocky shore when the trade-winds blow home.
The most northerly of these, the San Bias Route, has always attracted special attention from the fact that there is the narrowest part of the isthmus. Several explorers had reported attempts to cross at that point, which, however, they were prevented from doing by the hostility of the natives who inhabit the northern coast, so that the only survey, prior to that by Commander Selfridge, from which any definite information was obtained, was that made under the direction of Mr. F.M. Keiley, of New York, in 1864.
His line, commencing on the Pacific at the mouth of the Chopo or Bayano River, followed that stream some twelve miles, for which distance it is navigable at high water for the largest ships, and then struck directly across the country in a northerly direction for the Gulf of San Bias. The Cordilleras lie proposed to pierce with a tunnel seven miles
long.
The fact that this line is so short as to require a cutting of only
twenty-six miles impresses one at once strongly in its favor ; but the
great proportion of this distance that would require tunneling, even according
to Mr. Kelley's plans (which were necessarily defective on account
of his reliance upon an aneroid barometer only, for a considerable
portion of his altitudes), would render the work almost too expensive to
be undertaken ; while the recent and more careful surveys show the line
to be much less favorable than the previous explorers had supposed.
With reference to our survey of this route Captain Selfridge says :
"The principal rivers flowing into the Bay of San Bias are the Mandinga,
the Nercalagua, and the Carti. The Mandinga is the largest river on the Atlantic coast between the Chagres and the Atrato, and our main survey was carried up the valley of this stream. The Nercalagua, being in a more direct line, was also leveled up some sixteen miles to its sources. I will not enter into the details of these surveys; they were carried forward to a successful end in spite of the very heavy rains during the month of May, which were greater than ever before known by the oldest inhabitants of the isthmus at this season. The lower portion of the bottom-land of the Mandinga became a vast swamp, with from two to six feet of water on it. In some places one would sink to the waist in mire. Small streams became rivers, only passable by swimming; our bridges were swept away, and it even happened at times that the rise of the water was so rapid as to compel our people to take refuge and pass the night in trees. Happily, the waters would subside rapidly, enabling us to continue after vexing delays; each rise leaving the country in a worse condition than before. Our animals were useless in such a condition of affairs, and provisions, after being sent forward in boats as far as they could be forced against the swift current of the river, were carried on men's backs over miles of country where their path led over steep and rocky hillsides, slippery from moisture, and through streams and swamps. The survey crossed the 'divide' on the 7th of June, with an extreme elevation by level of 1,142 feet…The objective point, the junction of the Marmoni and San Jose Rivers, the same reached by Mr. Kelley's engineers, was attained. The latter's survey was found to vary but half a mile in position—an excellent verification of its correctness, as it started from the Pacific shore more or less in error, while the initial point of our survey was absolutely determined by astronomical observations.
"The magnificent harbor of San Bias, the shortness of the route, and the general appearance of the interior from the sea, all gave great hopes that we should here find the favored .spot for the successful accomplishment of our mission. But the prosecution of the survey, though it showed a more gradual rise to a certain distance than other routes, developed an altitude that it would require tunneling to surmount…An inspection of the profile gives us a tunnel of ten miles as necessary to span the intermediate distance between the elevations of 190° feet on each side; after this the excavation would not exceed, for the remaining sixteen miles, an average depth of over sixty feet. A tunnel of ten miles, however, would involve for this line, otherwise so prepossessing, an expenditure too vast for me to pronounce it practicable."
We experienced from the Indians who inhabit this region none of the hostility of which, as before mentioned, some previous explorers had complained. On the contrary, they appeared to regard us with no dislike nor suspicion; never watching our operations on shore, and venturing freely on board our ships, where they showed no little sagacity in turning honest pennies by the sale of bananas, plantains, and pineapples. They are, I think, in every respect the finest race to be found upon the isthmus, and, though rather undersized, they have a frank, manly bearing that is very engaging.
They do not dwell inland, but, exhibiting great good sense and taste, have fixed their habitations upon the beautiful coraline islands which stud their splendid gulf; where, shaded by graceful cocoanut-palms, and fanned by fresh breezes from the sea, they enjoy a cool, delightful climate hardly known elsewhere within the tropics. As these islands are barely sufficiently large to contain their houses, they are obliged to resort to the mainland to find room for their plantations, and there, in the fertile valleys of the Mandinga and Nercalagua, they raise, with little labor, an abundance of the tropical fruits that are with them the "staffs of life." This insular mode of life seems a feeble image of that in Venice—the place of the somber-hued gondolas being here taken by light and graceful canoes, hollowed from single logs, in the management of which the Indians are no less skilful than their more famous brethren, the gondoliers, so long celebrated in song and story.
Let us now turn our attention to the next in geographical order, the "Darien route" proper. The commodious harbors presented at either end of this line, by Caledonia Bay and the Gulf of San Miguel, early attracted the attention of those interested in the canal scheme, and many attempts have been made to discover a route by which it might be possible to connect them. But it is unnecessary to enter into the details of these explorations. The thrilling story of the sufferings of Strain and his heroic companions, in their ill-starred attempt in 1854, must be fresh in the minds of many of you; and it is sufficient for our present purpose to say that all explorers, except one, had united in condemning the route. The information obtained by them, however, was not sufficiently extensive and definite to settle the question beyond a doubt, as is proved by the fact that the pretended discoveries of that one—Dr. Cullen—were, as late as 1867, considered worthy of serious attention.
This extraordinary individual, professing to have crossed several times directly between Caledonia Bay and the Gulf of San Miguel, published a work descriptive of his remarkable journeys and discoveries. Estimating in this the cost of a canal by his route with the greatest nicety, and illustrating it with a bird's-eye view of the work as it was to appear when completed, with the largest streams rushing through without let or hindrance from lock or tunnel, he made a profound sensation—so profound, indeed, as to deceive to a considerable extent even the most learned geographers, by whom he was awarded great credit for his discoveries, although it appears that his statements were always received with considerable allowance, as being unsubstantiated by reliable notes and records.
A comparison of his description of a remarkable depression in the Cordilleras, near Caledonia Bay, with the facts as ascertained by Commander Selfridge, will show the limited foundation of fact upon which rested the doctor's grand superstructure of fancy. Pie says: "From the sea-shore (Port Escoces) a plain extends for nearly two miles to the base of a ridge of hills which runs parallel to the coast, and whose highest summit is about 350 feet. This ridge is not quite continuous or unbroken, but is divided by transverse valleys, through which the Aglaseniqua, Aglatomate, and other rivers have their course, and those highest elevations do not exceed 150 feet. The base of this ridge is only two miles in width, and from its south side a level plain extends for thirteen miles to a point on the Savana River, called Canasas, which is about twenty miles above its mouth."
Now, had this been true, the equal question would have been most completely and satisfactorily solved, and further search worse than useless; but, unfortunately, it is not true, nor is it even approximately correct. The "highest summit" of the Cordilleras at this place is, instead of "350 feet," not less than 1,500, and the highest elevations of the Aglaseniqua and other rivers of the Atlantic slope would in no case fall below 500 or 600 feet.
Our line of survey crossed the divide at an altitude, by level, of 1,259 feet. This certainly does not represent the lowest possible pass; but, as the line struck the Sucubdi River upon the Pacific slope at an elevation of 553 feet, we have a right to consider the non-existence of any pass under that height to be incontestably demonstrated, else the Sucubdi must flow into the Atlantic instead of into the Pacific.
The following summary from Capt. Selfridge's report will convey, as concisely as possible, an accurate idea of the character of this route: "The Sucubdi, with its tributaries, the Napsati and Asnati, drains all the region on the Darien line; its bed, therefore, represents the lowest possible profile. The height of the junction of the Sucubdi and Chucunaqua was found to be, by careful barometrical observations, 146 feet. Allowing to these observations the extreme error found by experiment, 13 feet, there will be found a distance of 10 miles on the Darien route from the elevation of 160 feet on the Atlantic to a corresponding height on the Pacific slope; in other words, a tunnel of this length would be required. In addition, there would be an average cutting of 130 feet for 10 miles or more, and the Chucunaqua to be crossed by a costly aqueduct. The route by the way of the Sassordi and Morti presents pretty much the same results…An inspection of the profile of this line will show a tunnel of not less than 8 miles necessary, besides very deep cutting in the valley of the Sassordi…No further surveys of the routes can be necessary to give proof of their impracticability."
The inhabitants of this part of the isthmus are divided into small tribes that take their names from the rivers upon which they live. Thus, upon the coast, we have the Caledons and Sassardies; and upon the Pacific slope, the Sucubdies, Asnatics, Chucunaquas, and Mortics. The coast Indians, from their frequent intercourse with traders, who visit them principally to obtain cocoanuts, are somewhat civilized; but the bravos of the interior have never been conquered by the whites, and own no allegiance to any government but that of their own chiefs, chosen according to the traditions handed down from time immemorial. Their government is patriarchal in its character, and not hereditary, the authority of a chief passing, usually, upon his death, to the next oldest man; respect for age appearing thus to be one of their most strongly-marked characteristics.
They had all been represented to us as extremely savage and warlike, it being said that they could muster a thousand warriors, who would resist to the last all attempts to penetrate their territory. Whether or no this sanguinary disposition may be truthfully attributed to the Chucunaquas and Morties I cannot say, as our explorations did not take us in the vicinity of their villages; but it is certainly a libel upon the Sucubdies, for we went through their entire country, and they appeared to be a most mild and inoffensive people—a tribe of farmers rather than warriors, exhibiting the quiet temperament to be expected among peaceful tillers of the soil.
Living, indeed, in a country where nature repays the minimum of labor with the maximum of harvest, and having none of the artificial wants consequent upon civilization, we should naturally expect to find them indolent and quite the opposite of warlike or aggressive,—and such they seem to be.
They are not, however, wanting in intelligence and quick perception, nor in a chivalrous disposition that leads them to succor the weak, admire courage, and despise cowardice. As a case in point, one of our men, whom, being accidentally and severely wounded, we were obliged to leave among them for several days while we were going down the river and returning, was treated by them with the greatest kindness; while another, who, dreading the rough march and possible danger ahead, sneaked from the ranks and started upon his return, was recognized by them at once as a poltroon, and treated, very justly, with great contempt and indignity.
They were not at all in favor of the canal project as they were able to comprehend it from their simple standpoint, evidently fearing that, by the advent of strangers, they would be dispossessed of their fair lands, and driven off, without just compensation, to shift for themselves as best they might. They also expressed great fears lest the canal, should one be constructed, would let the waters of the Pacific in upon them and drown them out. The former apprehension would, I fear, have been only too well justified by the event, had their country proved favorable to the enterprise; but, as they live some 500 feet above the level of the sea, the latter would doubtless have proved unfounded.
Some circumstances appear to give the color of truth to the reports of the savage character of the Chucunaquas and Morties. The chronicles of the early Spanish settlers contain frequent accounts of massacres by the former tribe, and it is reported that they killed a party of rubber-hunters who penetrated their country during the summer succeeding oar visit. The Morties killed four men belonging to an English expedition under Commander Prevost, in 1854, and the same tribe made some threats against one of our parties that operated in their vicinity, which, however, they did not attempt to put into execution; thinking, no doubt, that our breech-loaders were more than a match for their worn-out shot-guns and bows and arrows.
Let us now take up the next in order, the celebrated "Atrato-Tuyra Route," so-called, the starting-point of which, on the Atlantic side, is the Gulf of Darice or Uraba, and the terminus, as before, the Gulf of San Miguel; the Atrato River being utilized as far as the mouth of the Carcarica, whence a cut had been proposed across the country to such a point on the Tuyra as might afford the requisite depth of water.
Concerning this route many extravagant accounts have been published, all of which, it appears upon candid investigation, could have had but little foundation other than that which existed in the imaginations of their authors. Not, indeed, that I would deny honesty of intention to the gentlemen in. question, for I am well aware of the fact that the attempt to gain any idea of these regions otherwise than by laborious and patient examination, with the aid of instruments of precision, is sure to result in the complete misleading of the explorer, no matter how honest his intentions; while we all know that it is a weakness of human nature to see only what we want to see, and to make our observations agree with our wishes, by dint sometimes, perhaps, of rather violent twisting. At all events, it is certain that the favorable reports of this route are entirely erroneous, as will appear by a glance at the map exhibiting the topography of the locality. You will observe that the Cordilleras of the isthmus sweep to the westward in an unbroken chain to join the coast range of South America. This portion of the ridge, indeed, is of no great altitude, yet it is perfectly well marked and continuous. Our regular survey crossed at an elevation of 712 feet, while, a little further north, Capt. Seliridge found a height of only 400 feet, estimated from rough observations with a pocket-barometer. No great reliance, of course, can be placed on those rough figures thus roughly determined, but there can be little doubt that the "Pass of Carcarica," as the place is called, is the lowest on the continent, except on the line of the Panama Railroad.
But the utility of this route for canal purposes does not by any means depend upon the height of this ridge alone—that is, indeed, of minor importance; for the entire country is filled with hills from the divide itself to the junction of the Yape and Tuyra Rivers, near which tide ends.
The character of the country is well described by Capt. Selfridge, who, after detailing in his report the results obtained by his extensive explorations in this vicinity, thus sums up the matter: "As the facts unfolded themselves they caused a bitter disappointment; for I had been led by the appearance of the country on the Atlantic slope, and the reports of those who had visited the Pacific side, to expect a different result…The whole country from the Tuyra to the divide is a net-work of hills, and the highland between the mouth of the Cue and the Paya, rising sometimes to 490 feet, "was totally unexpected. The long extent of swampland on the Atlantic side is another very bad feature of this route. To show its impracticability, I have calculated the amount of excavation necessary, supposing we locked up to the mouth of the Cue River, which is 160 feet above the sea. It amounts to the enormous sum of 45,711,500 cubic yards earth, 03,185,009 cubic yards rock. Two hundred and fifty millions of dollars would not represent the amount necessary for the construction of a canal by this line."
There now remains for our consideration but one other route within the limits of the isthmus proper, and this is known as "Dr. Puydt's Route," from its projector, who claimed to have ascended, in 1805, the valley of the Tenela—a small stream flowing into the Gulf of Darien—and to have discovered a pass only 153 feet high. Discrediting this report, but wishing, as he says, to leave no doubt clinging to any portion of the isthmus. Captain Selfridge obtained from a gentleman who accompanied Dr. Puydt his exact route. Following this, the country was penetrated some thirty-three miles. Having then reached an altitude of 083 feet, by careful barometrical measurement, and the mountains of the divide being plainly visible yet higher beyond, the officer in command was compelled to turn back for want of provisions. He had, however, gone far enough for the purpose.
We have now glanced hastily at the various lines that have been proposed within the limits of the isthmus proper, and, imperfect as has been my sketch, I think you will be willing to concede that this attenuated neck of land presents no route sufficiently favorable to the enterprise to be pronounced practicable in the proper sense of the terra. Wherever the spirit of adventure may hereafter lead men to look for a canal route, Darien may, I think, be safely considered as eliminated from the problem. To have achieved this result; to have succeeded in obtaining, often in the face of the most formidable obstacles, accurate information where so many others have sought for it only to fail, cannot, it seems to me, be regarded otherwise than as a great triumph for our navy, of which we all, as Americans, have a right to feel proud. But our explorers were not rewarded by these negative successes alone, for their labors ultimately resulted in the discovery of a route not only practicable, but in many respects eminently favorable.
The Atrato River, to which I have already referred, and which is to play so important a part in the route about to be described, rises in the State of Cauca, in latitude 5° 20' North, flows in a northerly direction, nearly parallel to the Pacific coast, for about 400 miles—following the bends of the river—and finally empties into the Gulf of Uraba through a delta comprising many mouths. It drains a valley of considerable area, bounded on the east by the westernmost range of the Cordilleras of the Andes, and on the west by a range of low hills rising abruptly from the Pacific shore. The topography of this region does not appear to be generally understood. It is commonly supposed that the Andes are continuous with the Cordilleras of the isthmus; and so, in a certain sense, they are, but the connection is effected only by a range of hills of very moderate elevation. These hills skirt closely the Pacific shore, which is left by the Andes proper at 3° North. The intervening valley affords a double water-shed: one to the northward, drained by the Atrato into the Gulf of Darien, and one to the southward, drained by the San Juan into the Pacific.
Humboldt, in his "Personal Narrative," called attention to this fact many years ago, but "drawers of maps" seem to have paid him little attention. He says: "The erroneous idea which geographers, or rather drawers of maps, have so long propagated of the equal height of the Cordilleras of America, their prolongation in the form of continued walls and ridges, and, finally, of the absence of any transversal valley crossing the pretended central chain, has caused it to be generally believed that the junction of the seas is an undertaking of greater difficulty than there has hitherto been any reason to suppose…The chain of the Andes is divided at 2° and 5° of latitude into three chains, and the two longitudinal valleys that separate those chains form the basins of the Magdalena and Rio Cauca…Further west in the Cloco del Norte the mountains lower to such a degree that between the Gulf of Cupica and the Rio Napipi they disappear altogether."
Humboldt, who did not here speak from personal observation, was somewhat misled as to the height of the ridge between the Napipi and Cupica. Hills 609 feet high are, to be sure, hardly worthy of being called mountains, but they certainly form a very sensible line of demarcation. However, as I said, properly speaking, the Atrato lies entirely to the westward of the Andes, having one branch of that range for the eastern boundary of its valley, while the western boundary is formed by the low hills that skirt the coast.
The mouths of the Atrato are at present obstructed by a bar on which there is only about four feet of water. But within this the channel is broad and clear, and, as far as the confluence of the Napipi, not less than twenty-eight feet deep in any part at the lowest stage of the river. It was surveyed to that point by Commander E.P. Lull during the expedition of 1871, and last winter the survey was continued as far as Quibdo by Commander Selfridge in person.
Throughout this distance the Atrato is truly a most magnificent river. Its valley was evidently once an arm of the sea, which has been gradually filled up by the denudation of the hills upon either side, and by the decay of the vast masses of vegetable matter that yearly spring up and thrive in rank luxuriance under the favoring influences of copious rains and a vertical sun. In the lower portion of the valley this process is still going on, and there are vast swamps, extending for miles upon each side of the main channel, filled with the coarse gramalote grass, growing in many places so thickly as to prevent the passage of boats, and presenting the appearance of an immense meadow; yet underneath a deep, strong current sets steadily seaward.
It is not, indeed, before reaching the village of Sucio, some sixty miles from its mouth, that firm banks will be found to the Atrato; but beyond that point they extend in unvarying monotony, ten to twelve feet high, and without a sign of a hill or high land in any part. On both sides of the river stretches a level country, covered with an unbroken forest, which is filled with precious woods suitable for the builder and the cabinet-maker, and with rubber-trees and valuable dye-woods of various sorts. These forests must one day constitute an important element in the resources of this country.
The scenery upon the Atrato is but an unending panorama of luxuriant vegetation, exhibiting the thousand and one curious and fantastic forms into which nature loves to weave her tropical mantle. Above the dense, rank undergrowth, forcing itself to the very water's edge, rise the tall trees, doubtless centuries old. Here stands one of gigantic dimensions, its trunk and branches blazing with brilliant orchids, and completely hidden by the leaves and flowers of innumerable vines that cling to it for support and nourishment; and there another, with scarce a leaf, holding aloft its giant arms, which afford a resting-place for hundreds of screaming parrots, or a family of chattering monkeys, who grin at the traveler as he passes, and cut strange capers, apparently for his special amusement.
Upon the muddy banks and sandy playas enormous alligators sleep in the sun, waking only to slide lazily into the water at the shout of the boatman or the crack of a rifle.
Now and then may be seen a strange-looking craft, crowded with nuked negroes, who propel the vessel lazily against the current, walking fore and aft the deck with their long polaneas, and keeping step to a wild, monotonous chant, strangely appropriate to the surroundings of the scene. These are bangoes or barquetonins, trading between Cartagena and Quibdo, laden on the upward voyage with cottons, anisado, salt, knives, guns, pistols, Yankee notions, and trinkets of all sorts, and on their return 'taking rubber, ivory-nuts, gold, orquilla, and the various dye-woods of the country.
As may be supposed, the proximity of this stream, in certain portions of its course, to the western shore of the continent, did not fail to attract early attention; and repeated attempts have been made to discover some place where the low range of the Cordilleras of the coast might be cut by a canal, and communication thus carried forward from ocean to ocean.
Prominent among those who have been engaged in this enterprise we find again Mr. F. M. Kelley. His attention was first turned to a route by way of the Atrato and San Juan Pavers—the site of the mythical "Piaspadura Canal"; but, finding that impracticable, he directed his efforts to this discovery of a line for a direct cut from the Atrato to the Pacific.
In this his engineers were so far successful as to find a route from Humboldt Bay, by way of the Nerqua and Truando Rivers, to the Atrato, which appeared so favorable as to induce the United States Government to take the matter in hand. Accordingly, an expedition was fitted out under the joint command of Lieutenant (now Brigadier-General) Michler, of the United States Engineers, and Lieutenant (late Commander) Tunis A.M. Craven, of the United Slates Navy, for the more complete examination of this route.
These gentlemen completed their prescribed task with the result of "confirming, in all essential particulars," the work of their predecessors, and by Gen. Michler a canal line v/as projected from Humboldt's Bay to the Atrato. The entire length of this line was 45 miles; it involved the construction of two tunnels, one 820 feet and the other 12,250 feet in length, and its cost was estimated at one hundred and thirty-four millions of dollars.
But, notwithstanding these favorable results, no further action was taken, and in this state the matter rested until the winter of 1871, when Capt. Selfridge, then engaged on the Atrato-Tuyra route, had his attention called to the advantages of Cupica Bay and the so-called "Napipi Route." He accordingly detailed a party which, commencing at Limon Bay, an arm of Cupica, crossed the divide and followed the Napipi River to the Atrato. They crossed the Cordilleras at an altitude of 613 feet, found the country beyond to be exceedingly favorable, and reported a line of thirty-two miles in length, five miles of which would require tunneling.
The lateness of the season prevented any extensive examination of the surrounding country at that time, nor did another opportunity occur till the winter of 1873, when a party was sent out for that express purpose. The results of their explorations induced the Captain to shift his initial point from Cupica Bay to that of Chiri-Chiri, some ten miles further south. From this point, by crossing the divide and following, in a northeasterly direction, the valley of the Doguado to its junction with the Napipi, and thence that river to the Atrato, the line was shortened to twenty-eight miles, and the distance requiring tunneling to about three miles.
Some interesting details concerning this route and the work it is there proposed to construct will be given further on; I now invite your attention for a few moments to the present condition of the country likely to become, before many years, conspicuous as the site of the grand highway of international maritime communication.
The "Sovereign State of Cauca," within the jurisdiction of which this route is situated, is one of the integral parts of our sister republic, the United States of Colombia. The area of this State is about 68,300 square miles; it contains a mixed population of perhaps 300,000, and it is divided into four provinces : Buenaventura, Pasto, Popayan, and Choco. With the last of these, as the district within which lies the site of the proposed canal, we are particularly interested.
The mountainous portions of this province are inhabited by the scattered remnants of the Choco Indians, who were the aborigines of the country. The personal appearance of these Indians is similar to that of those who inhabit the isthmus further north, and in disposition these are even more mild and inoffensive than those. They are a frank, honest, and hospitable people. At their hands the stranger may be sure of nothing but kindness, and when engaged as laborers they are faithful, uncomplaining, and industrious. Unaccustomed to systematic labor, however, they soon tire of the monotonous drudgery attendant upon surveying, and they are also apt to suffer severely from home-sickness if kept long away from their friends. They subsist chiefly by hunting and fishing,— game being more abundant here than on the isthmus,—and are tillers of the soil secondarily and to a limited extent only. Each family lives by itself, far removed from any other, as they have neither towns nor villages, but they maintain, by means of their canoes, constant communication with each other, all appearing to be on terms of cordial intimacy.
Nothing can exceed in simplicity the every-day costume of these people. The women wear only a strip of coarse cloth wound about the waist and falling to the knee. The men improve upon this even, and wear absolutely nothing, except a microscopic breech-cloth. The youth of both sexes roam "fancy free," without artificial covering of any sort. Both sexes paint or stain the body, though the practice is more common among the males than the females. The body of a man in full dress is completely covered with the black caruto frequently laid on in some fantastic open-work pattern. The bright red anoto is more frequently used to stripe and dot the face and forehead, and, by way of contrast, the hands and feet are sky-blue. In addition to this elaborate costume, the neck and loins of the man, if he be well-to-do, are encircled with numberless strings of beads; from a bind of beads about his head depend bunches of fragrant roots and bark; he wears broad bracelets of virgin silver, and carries button- hole bouquets in the immense holes in the lobes of his ears.
Their habitations are of the rudest possible construction, far inferior to those of the isthmus Indians, consisting solely of a heavily-thatched roof supported upon posts driven into the earth, and with a rough flooring laid across five or six feet above the ground. The sides of this house—if so it may be called—are usually left entirely open. A fire in one corner, upon a pile of stones, serves for their primitive cooking operations; while an iron pot or two, a few gourd calabashes, and a hollow stone to serve as a mortar, comprise the list of culinary utensils.
The happy description of the Indians of the tierras calicutes of Central America, given by Chevalier Morelet, is strikingly applicable to those of this region: "The physical education of the Indian commences early. When ten or twelve years of age, a machete is put in his hands, and a load proportioned to his years on his shoulders, and he is made to accompany his father in his excursions or his labors. He is taught to find his way in the most obscure forests, through means of the faintest indications. His ear is practiced in quickly detecting the approach of wild animals, and his eye in discovering the venomous reptiles that may lie in his path. He is taught to distinguish the vines the juices of which have the power of stupefying fishes, so that they may be caught by hand, as also those which are useful for their flexibility or for furnishing water to the wayfarer. He soon comes to recognize the leche Maria, the precious balm with which he can heal his wounds, and the guaco, which neutralizes the venom of serpents. He finds out the shady dells where the cacao flourishes, and the sunny eminences where the bees go to deposit their honey in the hollow trunks of decaying trees. He learns, or is taught, all these things early, and then his education is complete. When he reaches the age of sixteen or seventeen years, he clears a little spot of ground in the forest with the aid of fire and his machete. He plants it with maize, builds a little hut in one corner, and then brings to it a companion, most likely one who was affianced to him in his earliest infancy. Without doubt he has some regard to the age and attractions of his female companion; but his marriage, if the union may be so called, is based on none of those tender sentiments and mutual appreciations which with us lie at the foundation of the social superstructure. " The vine mentioned above as useful for furnishing water is worthy of more extended notice. It is called by the negroes the vejuco blanco, and is found hanging in immense festoons from, the tall trees. So abundantly does this remarkable parasite yield cool, clear, and delicious water that I have frequently half-filled a canteen from a piece not above three feet in length and two or three inches in diameter.
The bulk of the population of this province of Choco is composed of negroes, descendants of slaves introduced from Africa when the country was under the rule of Spain. Many of these have preserved the purity of their blood with singular strictness, and are as black as the princes of Congo. From this extreme they ascend by gradations—as gradual, if not as beautiful, as the insensible blending of the tints of the solar spectrum—to the pale yellow of the octoroon.
They live principally in the low lands along the banks of the Atrato or near the mouths of its tributaries, where they cultivate in their lazy way bananas, plantains, sugar-cane, bread-fruit, and Indian corn. These the rich soil produces almost spontaneously; yet the negroes are so indolent as to raise barely enough to keep them from starvation, and would frequently suffer for food, were it not for the fish that abound in the Atrato.
Their condition is indeed but little superior to that of the Indians, but they are of a more social disposition, and congregate in little villages—sometimes picturesque, but never clean—where their mode of life exhibits a most incongruous jumble of Spanish, African, and Indian customs. Their houses are essentially similar to those just described, but with their sides enclosed with cane. On account of the disposition to overflow its banks which the Atrato is inclined to manifest during the wet season, these structures usually stand raised some four or five feet upon posts; an arrangement which gives them an air of instability that is frequently enhanced by a sad want of perpendicularity. This latter feature is also, I am pained to observe, frequently to be noticed, particularly upon fete days and other occasions of public rejoicing, in the bearing of the greater portion of the inhabitants.
As a race, the men are tall, well built, and muscular. The women are also well formed, and, when young, comely after their fashion; but they develop early, marry young (usually without the benefit of either priest or magistrate), and, as a consequence, at thirty-five or forty become wrinkled, toothless hags, among whom Macbeth's witches might have reigned as belles of peerless beauty.
Being nominally converts to Catholicism, these people designate themselves as Christianoes, in contradistinction to the Indians, whom they regard as pagans. I once endeavored to draw from one of these Christianoes his idea of the moral difference which constituted the foundation of this distinction; but could obtain no more satisfactory answer than that the Indians were not Christians because they paid no taxes! Do not our learned theologian sometimes draw the fine shade of separation upon a less tangible basis than this?
The inhabitants of the lower portion of the valley of the Atrato find their principal employment in collecting the rubber which is so abundant in that region that, with proper management, it would afford an almost inexhaustible supply. The trees are thickly scattered over a vast area, and each will yield, it is said, from two to three table-spoonfuls a day for twenty years. But the ignorant negroes, in their short-sighted cupidity, cut the trees down as they find them, thus obtaining a large quantity with little trouble, but "killing the goose which lays the golden eggs."
The rubber-tree is stately, and of remarkable beauty. Upon cutting through its bark the milk-white juice, of a creamy consistency, flows copiously. This is collected in vessels by the natives, deposited in shallow pits dug in the ground, and allowed to harden, turning to a blackish brown in the process. Then, in the shape of irregular slabs, it is sent to Panama or Cartagena, where it is purchased by the agents of the various manufacturing companies; subjected by them to heavy pressure to rid it of water and foreign matter, and then reshipped, to finally appear in the thousand-and-one articles of use or ornament with which every one is so familiar.
In the upper portion of this valley the inhabitants derive their chief revenue from gold hunting,—it cannot be called mining,—and this is destined, at no distant day, to become a most important and profitable industry. All the streams—and their name is legion— that come into the Atrato from the eastward, having their sources high up among the Antioquian Mountains, bring down this precious metal suspended in their waters. Their gravelly beds and sandy playas are rich with gold, which is so abundant as to be carried during the floods of the rainy season into the Atrato itself.
The means employed by the natives to obtain this gold are, as may be supposed, rude in the extreme. Vein-mining is carried on to a limited extent only, and then with machinery of the simplest possible construction. The greater portion is obtained by washing the sands of the streams just after the subsidence of the floods of the rainy months. Most of the metal thus secured finds its way to Quibdo, the capital and principal town of the province, where from $200,000 to $300,000 worth is frequently collected in the course of a single year. Such an amount as this, considering the means employed and the desultory way in which the search is carried on by the lazy natives, certainly indicates a richness in those gold regions that promises most profitable returns when the influx of labor and capital shall enable the business to be conducted in a systematic and scientific manner.
From the eastern slope of the Antioquian Mountains, which is reached by way of the Magdalena and Cauca Rivers, the exportation of gold now amounts to several millions of dollars annually. On their western slope, accessible by the Atrato and its tributaries, there is, it is estimated, an area of 2,000 square miles over which gold may be collected almost indiscriminately as regards locality. What a rich field does not this present to American energy and capital!
It should be remarked, however, that the difficulties in the way of transporting the requisite supplies and machinery would, with the present facilities (or want of facilities), be almost insuperable. But when the country shall have been opened up, and depots of supplies and proper means of transportation provided, it can hardly be supposed that so tempting a field will long be allowed to remain unworked and unprofitable.
The climate of this country now demands a passing notice. Two distinctly marked dry seasons are here presented, with their corresponding periods of rain—a consequence of being so situated in latitude as to be twice overshadowed by the "equatorial cloud ring," under which precipitation is almost constant, as it follows the sun in his grand annual "swing" from Cancer to Capricorn and back. January, February, and March are the months which constitute the pleasantest and driest season. In April the rainy season begins to set in, and in May and June the rain is almost incessant. In July it begins to lessen again, and August and September are comparatively dry; but in October the rains again commence, and in November and December they are at their heaviest.
Throughout this country malarial fevers prevail more or less, especially during the commencement of the dry seasons, when the low rivers and drying swamps present vast areas of half-decayed vegetable matter to the action of the powerful sun; but these fevers are of a mild type, and easily controlled by quinine. The fact that not a man was lost from climatic causes during all the three expeditions of Commander Selfridge, notwithstanding the hardships and exposure to which they were subjected, proves conclusively, it appears to me, that upon the whole the climate is less insalubrious than is generally supposed.
In geological character we find a marked difference between that portion of the isthmus visited in 1870 and the regions farther south visited in 1871 and 1873.
In the former locality the lowland near the coast rests entirely upon a coralline substratum, while the mountains belong to the hypogene formations, consisting mainly of granite and syenite.
In the valley of the Tuyra, however, and to the southward, the formation may be placed under general head of traps, being entirely volcanic, and of recent date in the geological sense of the term, though ancient enough as compared with man. All the characteristics of this region indicate that it must have been submerged, while yet the land forming the Isthmus of Darien had long been unheaved, and had assumed nearly its present form. At that period, then, "the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans must have intermingled their waters and washed the base of the Cordilleras of Darien."
It was only when nature was preparing to bring man upon the scene that she closed the gate—yet left it almost ajar, seemingly to tempt him to vindicate his manhood and reopen it.
The isthmus does not appear to be very rich in metals, although "numerous veins of pure copper wore met with on the Sassardi, and indications of iron were observed in all the mountains." There are thermal springs upon both the Napipi and Doguado Rivers, the water being of the temperature of 110° Fahrenheit, and emitting a faint odor of sulphurated hydrogen. These springs arc held in high estimation as baths by the natives, many of whom resort thither for the cure of various diseases.
My paper, in spite of my promise to be brief, has already grown to such a length that I fear I am taxing your patience severely; yet I cannot close without attempting, by means of this profile of the Napipi-Doguado route, to give you some idea of the facilities which it affords for the construction of a canal.
It is, of course, impossible at present to determine what plan of construction will be adopted after the requisite careful and extended surveys for locating the line with precision shall have been made. We may, however, gain a good idea of the general character of the proposed work by considering for a moment that plan which in the present state of our knowledge appears most feasible.
The junction of the Napipi and Doguado Rivers upon this route affords an ample water supply for locking up at least ninety feet above the surface of the Atrato, which is itself, at the point where the canal will enter it, forty feet above the plane of mean tide—our datum line. In a canal where locks are to be used, this question of an unfailing water supply may b3 doubled by a feeder three miles long from the Cuia. In this connection it is of interest to note that the valley of the Cuia at the point where it would be tapped by the feeder is some fifty feet higher than the proposed summit level of the canal. This would give ample head to ensure the delivery of as much water as might be required.
Should it, therefore, be deemed desirable to reduce the first cost of the canal by resorting to locks, eight with a lift of ten feet each let us suppose, might be employed upon the Atrato side. The entire length requiring excavation by this line is 148,840 feet, or 28 ½ miles nearly of this distance 107,900 feet, or 20.3 miles, following the valley of the Napipi (from A to F—see Profile), are through an almost level plain having a slight and gradual rise. Distributing in this section 8 locks so as to keep the cutting near the surface, the average depth of the required cut would be 45 feet; and the amount of excavation, 5,436,300 cubic yards of earth and 8,163,030 cubic yards of rock.
Leaving at F the valley of the Napipi, and following that of the Doguado, the rise becomes more rapid, so that from F to G, a distance of 16,400 feet, or 3.1 miles, the average cut would be 73 feet, and the excavation 442,200 cubic yards earth and 2,465,400 cubic yards rock. At G the steep acclivity of the ridge may be said to commence ¼ the open cut, however, may be continued as far as I, a distance of 5,240 feet, for which the cutting would average 198 feet. For this last mile the excavation would be 141,300 cubic yards earth, 2,111,200 cubic yards rock.
At I it is presumed a tunnel would become cheaper than an open cut, and would therefore be resorted to. It would extend to J, 15,700 feet, or about 3 miles, and would require the excavation of 3,314,388 cubic yards of rock. The short section beyond the western portal of the tunnel, 3,600 feet in length, would be occupied by 12 locks, by which the descent to or the ascent from the Pacific would be accomplished. Its contents are estimated at 67,880 cubic yards earth and S05,G90 of rock. From these we get a grand total excavation of 6,087,700 cubic yards earth, and 16,449,900 cubic yards rock, the figures being based upon a canal of the following dimensions: Width at bottom, 60 feet; at water surface, 72 feet; width of tunnel at bottom, 40 feet; at water surface, 60 feet; height from bottom to crown of arch, 112 feet; depth of water throughout canal, 25 feet. As these dimensions will not allow vessels to pass each Other in the canal proper, two or more turn-outs or sidings would be required at different points.
From the foregoing data, estimating the cost of removing earth at 33 cents per cubic yard, rock at $1 25 to $1 75, according to position, and tunnel-work at $0 33 per cubic yard, Captain Selfridge obtains the following as the cost of the proposed canal:
Cost of excavation $41,838,497
Cost of reservoir 550,000
Cost of aqueduct, Napipi to Cuia 606,000
Cost of culverts 500,000
Cost of railroad, narrow gauge 1,000,000
Crossing Napipi River 1,000,000
Grubbing and clearing 500,000
Sea-wall, Chiri-Chiri Bay 200,000
Wall, Atrato River 25,00O
Executive department 120,000
Engineer department 375,000
Pay department 90,000
Quartermaster's department 135,000
Commissary department 120,000
Medical department 80,000
Hoisting and pumping engines 875,000
Improvements, mouth of Atrato 402,000
Twenty-five per cent, for contingencies 12,116,749
Grand total $60,583,246
You will observe that, in order to place the estimate at its outside limit, the calculated cost has been increased by 25 per cent, of itself for unforeseen contingencies. This certainly should be considered as a liberal allowance; but if it were to be increased by 50 per cent., or even 75, the grand total would still be a most moderate sum, considering the nature of the enterprise.
And here it seems proper to compare briefly the advantages presented by this route with those offered by its rivals. These may now be considered as practically reduced to two,—Tehuantepec and Nicaragua,—and these are rivals, not on account of any superior advantages for the construction of the canal itself, but solely on account of geographical position. In this respect, especially if we regard the enterprise from a purely American point of view, it is evident that Tehuantepec lakes the lead, and that the other routes follow in order as we go south. But neither Panama nor Truando are sufficiently ahead in this respect to counterbalance their obvious disadvantages in other ways; so that, as I said, we need consider only Tehuantepec, Nicaragua, and the Napipi-Doguado, for at one of these three points the canal will surely be built, if built at all.
Tehuantepec and Nicaragua have both been recently and ably surveyed by officers of our navy, the former under the direction of Captain R.W. Shufeldt, and the latter under that of Commander E.P. Lull. The report of Captain Shufeldt, while it demonstrates the possibility of constructing a canal across the Isthmus of Tehuantepec, shows with equal clearness that the project is not practicable in the sense in which that term has been used in this paper. That is to say, it would require such an immense outlay of time and money for its construction as to preclude any idea of its ever proving a paying investment for capitalists.
Captain Shufeldt himself says that it would require national resources to build it. Its length would be 144 miles; it would require 140 locks; and a feeder 27 miles long, with 3 miles of tunneling, passing through a country "subject at all times to serious terrestrial convulsions," would be necessary in order to supply it with water. It would require a vast outlay to provide proper harbors either at the mouth of the Coatzacoalcos River, on the Atlantic side, or at the Bay of Salina Cruz, the proposed terminus on the Pacific. In addition to all these formidable physical obstacles, the present population of the country is hostile to the enterprise.
The report of Commander Lull upon Nicaragua has not yet beer, made public; so we have no proper basis for comparison. We know, however, from previous surveys, that the length of actual cutting for a canal by this line would be something over 100 miles; that the region is peculiarly subject to the action of volcanic agencies; and that the line is destitute of good harbors at either end.
How, now, is it with the Napipi-Doguado? In the matter of length, it is of course immediately ahead. As for harbors, it has on the Atlantic side the Gulf of Darien, which unites accessibility, security, capacity—all the qualities, in fact—that could be desired; while on the Pacific side it opens upon a region where ships may safely lie at anchor in an open roadstead year in and year out. Moreover, there is upon this side, within ten miles, the Bay of Cupica, where ships might conveniently lie, if desirable, while awaiting their turns for passage through the canal.
Then there is the earthquake question, which has already been alluded to as a great objection to both Tehuantepec and Nicaragua. The vicinity of the Napipi and Doguado, according to Dr. Mach, the geologist of the expedition, is of the very oldest tertiary volcanic rock, that gives evidence of having lain undisturbed for ages. This fact and the results of experience go to show that this region is little likely to be affected by volcanic disturbances of such a character as to endanger the permanency of the canal works. Too much stress cannot be laid upon this fact when considering the comparative advantages of the rival routes.
The only point, then, in which the Napipi route appears to be at a disadvantage, is that it requires a tunnel; and this, in the public mind, seemed to be a terrible tete noir. I will not tax your patience to listen to any argument to prove that such a tunnel is perfectly practicable, but will content myself with stating that it is so considered by the most eminent engineers of our country.
It of course introduces an element of uncertainty into the estimates of cost, since it is impossible to predict what may be encountered in the interior of the hills that are to be pierced. But the liberal allowance in the estimates already given ought certainly to be sufficient to cover all extra expenses that may be caused by unlooked-for contingencies in this direction.
If we regard it as a mere question of engineering, such a tunnel as this line would require would be but a small matter in comparison with some already constructed; for it is the length, of a tunnel, it should be remembered, and not its size, that renders it formidable. The larger it is the easier it will be to excavate it, other things being equal.
The necessity which exists for a canal across some one of the American isthmuses is so generally admitted that any argument upon that head at the present time would be superfluous. I will, however, show you the following table, prepared for Captain Selfridge's report; it is more eloquent than words.
The question of the probable revenue from the canal is also of sufficient importance to demand a moment's notice. From careful calculations, made upon the basis of the statistics of trade for 1870, Captain. Selfridge estimates that the canal will yield, at the end of the second year, a net income of over $5,000,000, or nearly nine per cent, upon its cost of sixty millions; and there can be but little doubt but that this would be doubled in a few years by the increase of trade stimulated by the canal itself. It would undoubtedly, then, prove a profitable investment.
And now, gentlemen, I have hastily and imperfectly sketched the results obtained by three successive seasons of persevering labor and no little hardship. In endeavoring to sift the immense mass of material at hand, I have been compelled to pass over many important points, and have, perhaps, dwelt longer upon others than their interest would justify. But I have attempted to show you what geographical questions have been answered; to give you an idea of the little-known regions visited; and to put you in possession of the leading facts relative to the newly discovered route, and the work which it is there proposed to construct, in order that you may be able to judge for yourselves of the comparative merits of the different lines that may be proposed.
As to which of these offers the greatest facilities, there may be room for doubt. As to the imperative necessity for a canal by one or the other, there can be no question.