by a decree of the 21st September following, approved most of the plans that were proposed for carrying the determination into effect; granting very liberally the whole revenue arising from the customs, for the space of ten years, toward the charges of building, &c. In virtue of this decree, the ayuntamiento was in due form established in the new situation on the 1st of January, 1776; and on the 29th of July, 1777, a proclamation was issued in Old Guatimala, commanding the population to remove to the new city within one year, and totally abandon the remains of the old one."
Such is the account given by the historian of Guatimala concerning the destruction of this city; besides which, I saw on the spot Padre Antonio Croquer, an octogenarian, and the oldest canonigo in Guatimala, who was living in the city during the earthquake which completed its destruction. He was still vigorous in frame and intellect, wrote his name with a free hand in my memorandum-book, and had vivid recollections of the splendour of the city in his boyhood, when, as he said, carriages rolled through it as in the streets of Madrid. On the fatal day he was in the Church of San Francisco with two padres, one of whom, at the moment of the shock, took him by the hand and hurried him into the patio; the other was buried under the ruins of the church. He remembered that the tiles flew from the roofs of the houses in every direction; the clouds of dust were suffocating, and the people ran to the fountains to quench their thirst. The fountains were broken, and one man snatched off his hat to dip for water. The archbishop slept that night in his carriage in the plaza. He described to me the ruins of individual buildings, the dead which were dug from under them, and the confusion and terror of the inhabitants; and though his recollections were only those of a boy, he had material enough for hours of conversation.
In company with the cura we visited the interior of the cathedral. The gigantic walls were standing, but roofless; the interior was occupied as a burying-ground, and the graves were shaded by a forest of dahlias and trees 70 or 80 feet high, rising above the walls. The grand altar stood under a cupola supported by 1 6 columns faced with tortoise-shell, and adorned with bronze medallions of exquisite workmanship. On the cornice were once placed statues of the Virgin and the twelve apostles, in ivory; but all these are gone; and more interesting than the recollections of its ancient splendour or its mournful ruins, was the empty vault where once reposed the ashes of Alvarado the Conqueror.
Toward evening my young companion joined me, and we set out for Santa Maria, an Indian village at two leagues' distance, situated on the
