Kitabı oku: «Spanish and Portuguese South America during the Colonial Period; Vol. 1», sayfa 2

On the 2nd of November Columbus reached the spacious harbour of Porto Bello, so named by its illustrious discoverer, and which was destined afterwards to hold so important a position as being the spot where the yearly fleet of galleons discharged its cargoes of European commodities for the supply of Spanish South America. The admiral found the neighbouring country open and cultivated, the houses surrounded by fruit-trees and groves of palms, and the fields producing maize, vegetables, and pine-apples. After a week’s delay, Columbus proceeded eastward to the point afterwards known as Nombre de Dios. His vessels, however, now began to be pierced by the tropical worm. Landing, therefore, in a small harbour, to which he gave the name of El Retrete, he found himself in such inconveniently close vicinity to the shore, that troubles soon arose between the natives and his unruly seamen; and these were not quelled without some display of force. It was at this point that the great navigator at length consented to relinquish his long and painful search after the supposed strait. Indeed, though he knew it not, the whole coast along the Isthmus had now been navigated by expeditions starting from opposite directions. In compliance with the wishes of his companions, the admiral now agreed to return to the coast of Veragua.

With the above object in view, the expedition sailed from El Retrete on the 5th of December, but it was only to encounter a continuance of the most stormy weather, in which the caravels were tossed about day and night, and subjected to the most serious risk of being swamped. On the 17th they entered a port resembling a canal, where they enjoyed some days’ repose. On leaving this place of refuge they were again tossed about until the day after Christmas, when they entered another port, in which one of the vessels was repaired. On the day of Epiphany, to their great joy, they anchored in a river close to that of Veragua, to which Columbus, in honour of the day, gave the name of Belen or Bethlehem.

The accounts which the Spaniards had received were now confirmed by what they saw. In exchange for articles of the most trifling nature, they procured ornaments of gold of considerable value; and Don Bartholomew, the admiral’s brother, set off in armed boats to ascend the Veragua, as far as to the residence of the Cacique Quibian. By him he was hospitably entertained, receiving from him the golden ornaments which he wore. But the ships and mariners were not long to rest in quietness, even under the shelter of a river; for a sudden swelling of the waters drove them from their anchors and tossed them helplessly against each other; whilst they were prevented by a violent storm from seeking safety at sea.

Early in February, Don Bartholomew again proceeded with an armed party to explore Veragua, and to seek for the mines. He was misled by the cacique, who directed him into the territories of a neighbouring chief, with whom he was at war. The Adelantado, however, on finding his mistake, set out on a second excursion, during the course of which he was continually met by proofs of abundance of gold, the natives generally wearing plates of that metal suspended from their necks. He was entertained in a friendly manner by the caciques whom he visited, and he found the country cultivated.

On hearing the report of his brother, Columbus resolved to set up a colony on this promising coast, with the object of securing possession of the country and of exploring the mines. The Adelantado was to remain with the greater part of the expedition, whilst the admiral should return to Spain. On this resolve being taken, no time was allowed to be lost. Eighty men were to be left behind, and these were forthwith employed in building houses and a magazine. The chief portion of the artillery and ammunition was stored on board of one of the caravels, which was to be left for the use of the colony. Although the stores were somewhat scarce, no apprehension was felt lest provisions should run short; for the country produced fruits and grain in abundance, whilst the rivers and sea-coast supplied large quantities of fish.

Such was the condition of affairs, and Columbus was on the point of departing, when an unlooked-for obstacle occurred to delay him. He could not of course anticipate the various changes of season in this strange country. The river, which had but recently been a source of danger to him from its becoming flooded, now suddenly became so dry that there was but half a fathom of water on its bar; and over this it was impossible even for the admiral’s small vessel to pass. He had no remedy, therefore, but to have recourse to patience—that virtue of which he stood so much in need throughout his memorable career—and to await the return of the rainy season.

Meanwhile the Cacique Quibian, as was but natural, looked with jealousy upon the proceedings of the strangers who were making themselves so much at home within his territories. Under pretext of preparing for war upon a neighbouring chief, he summoned his fighting men to assemble on the river Veragua. But suspicion was aroused in the mind of the admiral’s notary, who obtained permission to reconnoitre the Indian camp. On his return, he gave it as his opinion that a large party of natives whom he had observed on the march had been on their way to surprise the Spanish settlement. Columbus, being unwilling to accept this view without further confirmation, gave permission to Mendez to proceed on a second scouting expedition, the result of which was such as to dispel his doubts; whilst any lingering disbelief was banished by information conveyed to him by a native who had acted as interpreter, and who revealed to the admiral the designs of his countrymen, which he had overheard. It had been the intention of Quibian to surprise the harbour at night; to burn the ships and houses; and to effect a general massacre.

In view of the above disclosures, Columbus set a double watch upon the harbour: but his brother, the Adelantado, resolved upon more vigorous measures. At the head of seventy-four men, together with the interpreter, he set off in boats for the Veragua, and landed below the house of Quibian, before the latter had notice of his movements. Then taking with him only five men, he ascended the hill, ordering the others to follow with great caution. On a given signal they were to surround the dwelling. The cacique was seized by Don Bartholomew, and, after a violent struggle, was bound hand and foot. His household, consisting of about fifty persons, were likewise made prisoners; and so well were the Adelantado’s measures taken that no blood was shed on the occasion.

Committing his prize to the care of his pilot, with orders to take him on board his boat, the Adelantado, with a portion of his men, set out in pursuit of the Indians who had escaped. But the wily cacique was more than a match for the honest pilot. On his complaining piteously of the pain caused by his bonds, the soft-hearted Sanchez was induced to loosen the cord; upon which Quibian, watching his opportunity, plunged into the water and disappeared. On the following morning the Adelantado, being convinced of the futility of pursuit, returned to the ships with the spoils of Quibian’s mansion, which amounted to the insignificant value of three hundred ducats.

All was now apparently tranquil; and the rainy season having once more set in, Columbus took leave of his brother, and got under weigh with three of the caravels, leaving the fourth for the use of the settlement. The ships, having been towed over the bar, anchored within a league of the shore, to await a favourable wind. It was the intention of the admiral to touch at Hispaniola, and thence to send his brother supplies and reinforcements. As the adverse wind detained him for some time, he sent a boat on shore to procure wood and water. It was well for the colony that he did so. The Cacique Quibian had not perished, as was supposed, but had found his way ashore. When he saw the vessels bearing his family to afar, he was driven to despair, and thought only of vengeance. Assembling his warriors, he approached the settlement secretly, and fell upon the Spaniards when they were completely off their guard. After a severe struggle, the Indians were driven back, but not before they had killed one Spaniard and wounded eight others. Notwithstanding this warning, the boat’s crew sent by Columbus proceeded up the river, and, being surprised by the Indians, were cut off, one man alone escaping.

This misfortune filled the colony with dismay, more especially as the Indians forthwith renewed hostilities. As it was considered no longer safe to remain in the fortress, owing to its vicinity to the wood, the Adelantado erected a barricade in an open space by the sea. The Indians were deterred by the firearms of the Spaniards from venturing forth from the forest; but the latter looked forward with the utmost dread to the hour when the ammunition should be exhausted, and when they should be driven forth in search of food.

In the meanwhile Columbus was subjected to scarcely less anxiety. The non-return of his boat foreboded disaster; and he did not venture to risk his only remaining boat, on account of the heavy surf on the shore. An occurrence had also taken place which added not a little to the gloom on board of the squadron. It had been the intention of Columbus to carry Quibian’s family to Spain, as hostages for the good behaviour of the Indians during his absence. The captives, however, were determined to secure their liberty, if possible. The hatchway above the forecastle where they slept had not been fastened, as it was out of reach of the prisoners, and as some of the crew slept upon it. This neglect being observed by the captives, despair lent them ingenuity. Collecting together a quantity of the ballast, they raised a heap beneath the hatchway. Several Indians mounting on the stones, by a simultaneous effort, then raised it, violently dislodging the sleeping seamen. The Indians instantly sprang forth, and many, plunging into the sea, swam ashore. Some, however, were caught and forced back into their place of imprisonment. In the morning it was found that all the prisoners had hanged themselves.

1503.

In this state of perplexity, one brave man volunteered to bring relief to the admiral’s mind. Pedro Ledesma of Seville offered, if the boat should take him to the edge of the surf, to swim ashore through it, a feat which he successfully accomplished. He returned to the ships, to tell his commander that the Adelantado’s party were in all but open mutiny, and that they were sworn, if the admiral should refuse to take them on board, to depart in the caravel so soon as it might be practicable. Columbus, as may be supposed, was in no slight alarm for his brother, placed as he was between mutineers and savages. There appeared nothing to do but to take the whole party on board, and to return to the settlement at some future day; but the state of the weather was such as to render the execution of this plan not a little difficult. After nine boisterous days, however, the sea again became calm, and great exertion was made to get the people off ere the bad weather should return. In this emergency, the services of Diego Mendez were especially useful. Having lashed two Indian canoes together, he erected on them a raft, upon which the stores left on shore and on the caravel were towed out to the ships. In this manner, in the course of two nights and days, everything of value was conveyed on board the squadron, Mendez and five companions being the last to leave the shore.

The joy of the Spaniards was unbounded on finding themselves once more afloat. The wind becoming favourable, Columbus, towards the end of April 1503, set sail for the last time from the disastrous coast from which his descendant takes his title.⁵ Instead, however, of making direct for Hispaniola, he, to the surprise of his pilot and crews, stood along the coast to the eastward.

This study of the currents had taught him that, in order to avoid being carried beyond his destined port, he must first gain considerable way to the east. At Porto Bello he was obliged to leave one of his caravels, it being so pierced by worms that it could no longer be kept afloat. Even his two remaining vessels, into which were now crowded the crews of the four, were in a very unseaworthy condition, and were only kept afloat by incessant labour at the pumps. Continuing onwards, they passed Porto Retrete and approached the entrance of the Gulf of Darien, when, yielding to the remonstrance of his captains and pilots, the admiral bade final farewell to the mainland; and on the 1st of May he stood northward in quest of Hispaniola. At this point of his career we must take leave of the discoverer of America. To pursue further the narrative of his last voyage would take us beyond the limits within which this work must be confined, that is to say, beyond the limits of South America.

Note.—The problem of rendering in English the names of places in foreign countries is one of some difficulty, and rests rather on conventionality than on principle. It is solved by different writers in different fashions. Greek purists have for some time past lost no opportunity, in writing Greek words, of substituting the original Greek K for the Roman C; but they still respect the latter in names of such places, familiarized to our ears by Scripture, as Corinth and Crete. In like manner Oriental purists, such as Sir Frederic Goldsmid and Colonel Malleson, have done their best to introduce into English literature a system of orthography as to Oriental names which is, of course, in place in the schoolroom of a professor of Oriental languages, but which has not yet made itself fully accepted by the general English reader. Those of us whose acquaintance with Indian history began with the reading of Macaulay’s Essays on Clive and Hastings, are loth to accept Pílasi for Plassey and Lakhnao for the capital of the princely House of Oude.

To look nearer home, it would be pedantic to use El Kahira for Cairo, or Dimishk for Damascus. It would be little less so, although strictly correct, to use Venezia for Venice, Roma for Rome, or Livorno for Leghorn. We have added an s—why, I know not—to the French spelling of the word Marseille. That port is as familiar in our mouths as Liverpool or Glasgow, but we invariably write it and pronounce it Marseilles. In writing Spanish or Portuguese words applied to names of places in South America, I find a considerable divergence of custom amongst authors. To take the one name of Assumption, for instance. The capital of Paraguay is so written by the Robertsons and other writers, whilst in Southey’s History of Brazil it is throughout written Assumpcion. In Washburn’s History of Paraguay it becomes Asuncion, the original Spanish name, which I see no reason to supersede. As a rule I have followed the native names of places in Portuguese or Spanish America, they being for the most part those by which they are known in England.

CHAPTER II.
THE DISCOVERY OF THE PACIFIC OCEAN

1508-1514

1508.

In the return of Columbus to Europe after his fourth and last voyage, King Ferdinand was roused by the accounts which he gave of Veragua into an ardent longing to possess that wealthy territory. He resolved, therefore, to found colonies upon that coast, and to place them under an able governor. But before he had proceeded to carry his resolution into practice, the great admiral was no more. In looking about for a capable commander, it might have been supposed that the king would have selected his brother, Don Bartholomew, who had accompanied him in his last voyage. Columbus had, however, left vast claims behind him, of which his family were the heirs, and which the mean and jealous monarch was unwilling to recognise. His choice of an officer, therefore, fell on the gallant and enterprising Alonzo de Ojeda, who at this period was idling his time in Hispaniola,—his purse being empty, but his spirit as high as ever. His generous character and reckless bearing had endeared to him the veteran pilot, Juan de la Cosa, who offered him the use of his savings for the purpose of fitting out his expedition.

Ojeda, however, had a rival in the person of Diego de Nicuesa. Both were accomplished cavaliers, well fitted by their spirit of enterprise to do what men could do in fulfilment of the unforeseen and almost superhuman tasks that lay before them. King Ferdinand, being unwilling to lose the services of Nicuesa, appointed him, too, to a government; that is to say, he granted to each permission to conquer and govern a portion of the continent which lies along the Isthmus of Darien,—the boundary line to pass through the Gulf of Urabá. The eastern portion, extending to Cape de la Vela, was named New Andalusia, and was granted to Ojeda. The country to the west, including Veragua, and reaching to Cape Gracias à Dios, was assigned to Nicuesa. Both governors were to draw supplies in common from the island of Jamaica, and each was to enjoy for ten years the profits of the mines he might discover, with the usual deduction for the Crown.

Ojeda, by the aid of Juan de la Cosa, fitted out a ship and two brigantines, carrying between them about two hundred men. Nicuesa furnished four large vessels, carrying a much larger force. Ojeda, being somewhat jealous of the superior show of his rival, persuaded one of his friends, a lawyer called the Bachelor Enciso, to invest his money—two thousand castillanos—in his enterprise.

He was to remain behind in Hispaniola, to enlist recruits and provide supplies. Before setting out, the two rival governors, as was perhaps to be expected, fell into a dispute concerning the island of Jamaica, which they were to hold in common; and Ojeda took the opportunity of challenging Nicuesa to meet him in single combat. The feud, however, was smothered by the judicious interference of Juan de la Cosa. Nicuesa’s engaging manners brought so many volunteers to his standard that he had to purchase another ship in order to convey them. He was not, however, a man of business, and was so over-reached in making his arrangements that he had considerable difficulty in escaping from his creditors and setting out for the scene of his government.

1509.

Never were a set of gallant adventurers exposed to more dire disaster and more grievous suffering and disappointment than were those who composed the armaments of Ojeda and Nicuesa, respectively. On the 10th of November 1509, the former set sail from San Domingo, having added to his squadron another ship and another hundred men. Amongst the adventurers on board was one who was destined to fill a larger space in history than was Ojeda himself,—namely, Francisco Pizarro, the future conqueror of Peru. The expedition soon arrived in the harbour of Carthagena; but the natives, who had been irritated by the proceedings of previous European visitors, flew to arms at the first sight of the strangers. They were a war-like race, of Carib origin, and were given to the use of poisoned arrows.

The pilot, Juan de la Cosa, who had previously visited this coast with Bastides, was much alarmed at the aspect of affairs, and earnestly besought Ojeda to quit this neighbourhood and to found his settlement on the Gulf of Urabá where the people were less savage, more especially in respect to the use of poisoned arrows. Ojeda, however, whose daring was excessive, had no objection to fighting, the rather as it would, he hoped, give him an early opportunity of sending a ship full of slaves to San Domingo, wherewith to pay his debts. Ojeda, who had escaped from innumerable dangers, and imagined himself to be under the especial protection of the Virgin, boldly charged the Indians, on their declining to make peace. They were soon routed; a number being killed, and others taken prisoners. The dashing leader had the temerity to pursue the enemy far into the forest, where they were driven from their stronghold. Seventy Indians were then made captives and were sent to the ships.

The infatuated Ojeda, not content with these successes, continued his pursuit of the fugitives; but in the dusk of the evening, his men, imagining that the Indians were dispersed and subdued, separated in search of plunder amongst the houses of a deserted village. Of a sudden the savages rushed forth from the surrounding forest. The Spaniards, rallying in small parties, although they fought bravely, fell fast beneath the clubs and poisoned arrows of the numbers that surrounded them. Ojeda, throwing himself upon his knees, and sheltering himself with his buckler, escaped the poisoned shower; but he was only saved by the arrival of La Cosa with a few followers, for all those with him had been slain. A like fate now befell the companions of the veteran pilot; whilst La Cosa himself was wounded, and unable to follow his leader when he sprang like a tiger on the enemy, dealing death to the right and left. La Cosa took refuge in an Indian cabin until but one man with him was left alive. With his dying breath he despatched this last companion with a message to Ojeda. This Spaniard and his commander alone survived of seventy men whom the head-strong Ojeda had led on this rash and uncalled-for expedition.

Alarmed at the prolonged absence of their leader and his men, the Spaniards on board the ships sent armed detachments in boats along the shore, who sounded trumpets and fired signal-guns. They were answered only by the defiant war-whoops of the Indians; but at length, in a tangled thicket of mangroves, the figure of a human being was descried in Spanish attire. It was Alonzo de Ojeda, so wasted with fatigue and hunger that he was for some time incapable of speaking. When they had given him food and wine, he was enabled to recount the wreck his rashness had wrought. His shield bore the marks of three hundred arrows, and he ascribed his safety to the protection of the Virgin alone.

While his friends were still on shore, they beheld some ships standing towards the harbour. It was the squadron of Nicuesa, on whose arrival Ojeda now looked with alarm. He had nothing, however, to dread from the generous cavalier, whose first act was to put himself and his men under the orders of Ojeda, with the object of avenging the deaths of his comrades. This was soon effectually done. Proceeding to the spot where the massacre had occurred, they found the Indian village buried in sleep. It was forthwith wrapt in flames; and the inhabitants, who rushed forth, were either slain by the Spaniards or driven back to perish in the fire. No quarter was shown to sex or age. The spoil in the village was great, for the share of Nicuesa and his men was valued at seven thousands castillanos. Nicuesa now pursued his voyage to Veragua.

Ojeda, who had by this time had enough of Carthagena, embarking, steered for the Gulf of Urabá. His people were much disheartened, and the aspect of the coast along which they passed was not such as to console them. They heard the roars of tigers and lions, and were disconcerted when one of their horses, passing along the bank of a river, was seized by an alligator and dragged under the water. Ojeda fixed his settlement on a spot to which he gave the name of San Sebastian, trusting that the martyr, who had himself been slain by arrows, would protect his Spaniards from a like fate. Here he erected a wooden fort and drew a stockade around the place. He further sent a ship to San Domingo bearing a letter to his associate Enciso, in which he urged him to join him without delay.

Meanwhile Ojeda determined to make a progress through his territory, and he set out with an armed band to visit a neighbouring cacique. On entering the forest, however, he and his followers were assailed by a shower of poisoned arrows from the covert, in consequence of which a number of his men died raving with torments. The rest retreated in confusion, and it was only when their provisions began to run short that Ojeda could persuade them once more to take the field. They were so beset, however, on all sides by the savages, and lost so many by their poisoned wounds, that the Spaniards would no longer venture forth at all, contenting themselves for food with such herbs and roots as they could find. Their numbers became so thinned by disease that it was with difficulty that sentinels could be procured to mount guard.

Through all this Ojeda continued to bear a charmed life; and the Indians determined to test his invulnerability. When they next attacked the fort, and Ojeda as usual sallied forth to repel them, four of their picked marksmen were placed in ambush with orders to single him out. Three of the arrows struck his shield, doing him no injury; the fourth pierced his thigh. He was borne back to the settlement suffering great torments. He had the hardihood to order his doctor to apply two plates of iron, made red hot, to the orifices of his wound, an ordeal which he endured without flinching. Whether or not it was owing to this terrible treatment, his life was preserved, though at the cost of a fearful inflammation.

Whilst the colony was enduring the straits above described, a strange ship was seen making for San Sebastian. It did not, however, as was expected, bring Enciso with the looked-for stores. It was a vessel that had belonged to a Genoese, of which a certain Talavera, with some other reckless debtors, had taken possession at San Domingo, and who, to the number of seventy, now came to swell the ranks of Ojeda’s followers. They sold their provisions to that governor, whose men were thus rescued from starvation.

Still was the arrival of Enciso delayed, and at length Ojeda was forced to come to a compromise with his desperate followers. It was agreed between them that he himself should proceed in one of the vessels to San Domingo, in quest of supplies and reinforcements, and that they—that is to say, the bulk of the colonists—should remain for fifty days at San Sebastian, at the end of which time, should he not have returned, they were to be free to depart in the other brigantines to Hispaniola. Meanwhile Francisco Pizarro was to command the colony in his absence, or until the arrival of Enciso.

Ojeda embarked in the ship that had brought Talavera; but when he attempted to take the command, he was resisted by that individual backed by his entire crew. The result was that the fiery Ojeda was thrown into irons, from which he was only released because no other person on board was capable of managing the ship. As it was, the pirates had allowed the vessel to be carried so far out of her course for San Domingo that Ojeda had no other resource but to run it ashore on the southern coast of Cuba.

When on shore the truce was continued between Ojeda and his late associates; for they felt that none of the party but he could guide them in their forlorn plight. They were too disheartened to force their way through the inhabited country, where they would have to fight the irritated natives; and therefore Ojeda, who had only before him a choice of evils, led them through the savannas and marshes, whence, with incredible labour, they at length emerged on an Indian village. Their sufferings had been intense and incessant, and out of the number of seventy who had set out, but one-half survived. With these Ojeda continued his march to Cape de la Cruz, whence, by means of a canoe, he was able to communicate with the Spaniards on the island of Jamaica. A caravel was sent to bring the party to the latter island, and from there, after a short delay, Ojeda set sail for San Domingo, leaving Talavera and his friends behind him. These were, however, soon afterwards arrested, and tried for their act of piracy, Talavera and several of his accomplices being hanged. At San Domingo nothing was known respecting the Bachelor Enciso, who had long since set out to join his chief, and who had not afterwards been heard of. Thus was the last hope of Ojeda gone. He was reduced to beggary, and his gallant spirit was at length so crushed by misfortune, that with his last breath he asked that he might be buried at the gate of the monastery of San Francisco, so that, in expiation of his former pride, every one who should enter might tread upon his grave.

To return to Nicuesa:—On leaving Carthagena, he continued his voyage to the coast assigned to him as a government. The squadron arrived in due course at Veragua, but during a storm the vessel of Nicuesa became separated from her companions. Being stranded in a river, and his ship being in danger of falling to pieces, Nicuesa and his companions had to save themselves by passing to the shore by means of a rope. No sooner had they reached it than the caravel broke up, their provisions and clothing being carried off by the waters. Fortunately their boat was cast ashore, and in it four seamen put to sea, keeping abreast of the main body, which had to find its way along the shore, and ferrying them across the rivers and bays in their way. The sufferings of Nicuesa and his men were extreme, and their food consisted only of such herbs and roots and shellfish as they could gather. They were, however, proceeding in a wrong direction. The boat’s crew were convinced of this fact, though they despaired of being able to convince Nicuesa; and so one night they took the law into their own hands and departed in the boat, leaving their commander and his party on an island. As they had anticipated, they ere long fell in with the other vessels, who had taken refuge in the river of Belen, and a boat was forthwith sent to rescue the forlorn party.

Nicuesa and his famished companions now rejoined his people at Belen, where, of the gallant band of seven hundred men who had sailed with him from San Domingo, he now found but three hundred half-starved survivors. His first care was to take measures for their relief; but, as will be remembered from the experience of Columbus and his brother, the Indians of this coast were by no means pleasant to deal with. Many of the Spanish foragers were slain, and those who escaped this fate were so enfeebled that it was with the utmost difficulty they could carry their provisions home.