THE BRIG FRANCIS—DEPARTURE FROM NEW YORK—SAN DOMINGO—THE COAST OF CENTRAL AMERICA—MONKEY POINT—SHREWD SPECULATIONS—A NAKED PILOT—ALMOST A SHIPWRECK—SAN JUAN DE NICARAGUA—MUSIC OF THE CHAIN CABLE—A POMPOUS OFFICIAL—DELIVERING A LETTER OF INTRODUCTION—TERRA FIRMA AGAIN—“NAGUAS” AND “GUIPILS”—THE TOWN AND ITS LAGUNA—SNAKES AND ALLIGATORS—PRACTICAL EQUALITY—CELT VS. NEGRO—A WAN POLICEMAN—THE BRITISH CONSUL GENERAL FOR MOSQUITIA—“OUR HOUSE” IN SAN JUAN—AN EMEUTE—PIGS AND POLICE—A VISCOMTE ON THE STUMP—A SERENADE—MOSQUITO INDIANS—A PICTURE OF PRIMITIVE SIMPLICITY. The following narrative will serve to give a general, and, on the whole, it is believed, a correct notion of the State or Republic of Nicaragua, and of the character and peculiarities of its inhabitants, as they would be apt to impress themselves on the mind of a traveller without strong prejudices, with good health and a cheerful temper, and disposed withal to regard men and things from a sunny point of view. Matters of a didactic kind, statistics, and information on special subjects, such as the proposed Interoceanic Canal, are left to find a place, as they best can, after impressions and incidents—the round of beef, in this instance, following the sweets and pastry. The point in Nicaragua most accessible to the traveller from the United States, is the now well-known port of San Juan de Nicaragua, which our respected uncle of England, in furtherance of some occult designs of his own, has vainly endeavored to christen anew with the ghastly name of “Greytown.” The little brig “Francis” was up for this port in the early part of May, in the year of grace 1849; and, for satisfactory reasons, overruling all choice in the premises, berths were engaged in her for myself and companions. She lay at the foot of Roosevelt street, in the _terra incognita_ beyond the Bowery,—a pigmy amongst the larger vessels which surrounded her. We reported ourselves on board, in compliance with the special request of the owners, at 9 o’clock on the morning of the 11th, just as the human tide ebbed from the high-water mark of Fourth street and Union Square, and subsided for the day amongst the rugged banks and dangerous shallows of Wall and Pearl streets. The Francis had received her freight, and her decks were encumbered with pigs and poultry, spars and tarpaulins, to say nothing of water casks and tar barrels, forbidding in advance any peregrinations, by unsteady landsmen, beyond the quarter deck. The quarter deck was so called by courtesy only: it was elevated but a few inches above the waist, and, deducting the room occupied by hen-coops, water-casks, and the man at the helm, afforded but about ten square feet of space, in which the unfortunate passengers might “recreate” themselves. This might have sufficed for men of moderate desires, but then it was far from being “contiguous territory.”