362 



INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL. 



Early the next morning, accompanied by my coun- 

 tryman Mr. Lawrence, and mounted on a noble mule 

 lent me by Mr. Steiples, I set off for Cartago. We left 

 the city by a long, well-paved street, and a little beyond 

 the suburbs passed a neat coffee-plantation, which re- 

 minded me of a Continental villa. It was the property 

 of a Frenchman, who died just as he completed it ; but 

 his widow had provided another master for his house 

 and father for his children. On both sides were mount- 

 ains, and in front was the great Volcano of Cartago. 

 The fields were cultivated with corn, plantains, and po- 

 tatoes. The latter, though indigenous, and now scatter- 

 ed all over Europe, is no longer the food of the natives, 

 and but rarely found in Spanish America. The Cartago 

 potatoes are of good flavour, but not larger than a hick- 

 ory nut, doubtless from the want of care in cultivating 

 them. We passed a Campo Santo, a square enclosure 

 of mud-walls whitewashed, and came to an Indian vil- 

 lage, the first I had seen in Costa Rica, and much better 

 than any in the other states, the houses being of tejas, 

 more substantial, and the inhabitants having clothes on. 



Half way between San Jose and Cartago we reached 

 the village of Tres Rios. From this place the road was 

 more broken, without fences, and the land but little cul- 

 tivated. 



Entries have been found in the records of Cartago 

 dated in 1598, which show it to be the oldest city in 

 Central America. Coming from San Jose, its appear- 

 ance was that of an ancient city. The churches were 

 large and imposmg ; the houses had yard- walls as high 

 as themselves ; and its quiet was extraordinary. We 

 rode up a very long street without seeing a single per- 

 son, and the cross-streets, extending to a great distance 



