 | CHAPTER VII. Mercedes of Castile, or, The voyage to Cathay |  |
7. CHAPTER VII.
An animated blossom born in air;
Which breathes and bourgeons in the golden sky,
And sheds its odours there.”
Sutermeister.
Notwithstanding his native resolution, and an indifference
to danger that amounted to recklessness, Luis did
not find himself alone with the Haytians without, at least,
a lively consciousness of the novelty of his situation.
Still, nothing occurred to excite uneasiness, and he continued
his imperfect communications with his new friends,
occasionally throwing in a remark to Sancho in Spanish,
who merely wanted encouragement to discourse by the
hour. Instead of following the boat of the Santa Maria,
on board which the ambassador had embarked, the canoe
pushed on several leagues farther east, it being understood
that Luis was not to present himself in the town of Guacanagari,
until after the arrival of the ships, when he was
to rejoin his comrades stealthily, or in a way not to attract
attention.
Our hero would not have been a true lover, had he remained
indifferent to the glories of the natural scenery that
lay spread before his eyes, as he thus coasted the shores
of Española. The boldness of the landscape, as in the
Mediterranean, was relieved by the softness of a low latitude,
which throws some such witchery around rocks and
promontories, as a sunny smile lends to female beauty.
More than once did he burst out into exclamations of delight,
and as often did Sancho respond in the same temper,
if not exactly in the same language, the latter conceiving
in the way of poetry.
“I take it, Señor Conde,” observed the seaman, when
they had reached a spot several leagues beyond that where
the launch of the ship had put to shore; “I take it for
granted, Señor Conde, that your excellency knoweth
whither these naked gentry are paddling, all this time.
They seem in a hurry, and have a port in their minds, if
it be not in view.”
“Art thou uneasy, friend Sancho, that thou puttest thy
question thus earnestly?”
“If I am, Don Luis, it is altogether on account of the
family of Bobadilla, which would lose its head, did any
mishap befall your excellency. What is it to Sancho, of
the ship-yard gate, whether he is married to some princess
in Cipango, and gets to be adopted by the Great Khan, or
whether he is an indifferent mariner out of Moguer? It is
very much as if one should offer him the choice between
wearing a doublet and eating garlic, and going naked on
sweet fruits and a full stomach. I take it, Señor, your
excellency would not willingly exchange the castle of
Llera for the palace of this Great Cacique?”
“Thou art right, Sancho; even rank must depend on
the state of society in which we live. A Castilian noble
cannot envy a Haytian sovereign.”
“More especially, since my lord, the Señor Don Almirante,
hath publicly proclaimed, that our gracious lady,
the Doña Isabella, is henceforth and for ever to be queen
over him,” returned Sancho, with a knowing glance of the
eye. “Little do these worthy people understand the
honour that is in store for them, and least of all, his Highness,
King Guacanagari!”
“Hush, Sancho, and keep thy unpleasant intimations in
thine own breast. Our friends turn the head of the canoe
towards yonder river's mouth, and seem bent on landing.”
By this time, indeed, the natives had coasted as far as
they intended, and were turning in towards the entrance of
a small stream, which, taking its rise among the noble
mountains that were grouped inland, found its way through
a smiling valley to the ocean. This stream was neither
broad nor deep, but it contained far more than water sufficient
fringed with bushes; and as they glided up it, Luis saw
fifty sites where he thought he could be content to pass his
life, provided, always, that it might possess the advantage
of Mercedes's presence. It is scarcely necessary to add,
too, that in all these scenes he fancied his mistress attired
in the velvets and laces that were then so much used by
high-born dames, and that he saw her natural grace, embellished
by the courtly ease and polished accessaries of
one who lived daily, if not hourly, in the presence of her
royal mistress.
As the canoe shut in the coast, by entering between the
two points that formed the river's mouth, Sancho pointed
out to the young noble a small fleet of canoes, that was
coming down before the wind from the eastward, apparently
bound, like so many more they had seen that day, to the
bay of Acúl, on a visit to the wonderful strangers. The
natives in the canoe also beheld this little flotilla, which
was driving before the wind under cotton sails, and by their
smiles and signs showed that they gave it the same destination.
About this time, too, or just as they entered the
mouth of the stream, Mattinao drew from under a light
cotton robe, that he occasionally wore, a thin circlet of
pure gold, which he placed upon his head, in the manner
of a coronet. This Luis knew was a token that he was a
cacique, one of those who were tributary to Guacanagari,
and he arose to salute him at this evidence of his rank, an
act that was imitated by all of the Haytians also. From
this assumption of state, Luis rightly imagined that Mattinao
had now entered within the limits of a territory that
acknowledged his will. From the moment that the young
cacique threw aside his incognito, he ceased to paddle, but
assuming an air of authority and dignity, he attempted to
converse with his guest in the best manner their imperfect
means of communication would allow. He often pronounced
the word, Ozema, and Luis inferred from the
manner in which he used it, that it was the name of a
favourite wife, it having been already ascertained by the
Spaniards, or at least it was thought to be ascertained, that
the caciques indulged in polygamy, while they rigidly restricted
their subjects to one wife.
The canoe ascended the river several miles, until it
reached one of those tropical valleys in which nature seems
to expend her means of rendering this earth inviting.
While the scenery had much of the freedom of a wilderness,
the presence of man for centuries had deprived it of all its
ruder and more savage features. Like those who tenanted
it, the spot possessed the perfection of native grace, unfettered
and uninvaded by any of the more elaborate devices
of human expedients. The dwellings were not without
beauty, though simple as the wants of their owners; the
flowers bloomed in mid-winter, and the generous branches
still groaned with the weight of their nutritious and palatable
fruits.
Mattinao was received by his people with an eager curiosity,
blended with profound respect. His mild subjects
crowded around Luis and Sancho, with some such wonder
as a civilized man would gaze at one of the prophets, were
he to return to earth in the flesh. They had heard of the
arrival of the ships, but they did not the less regard their
inmates as visiters from heaven. This, probably, was not
the opinion of the more elevated in rank, for, even in the
savage state, the vulgar mind is far from being that of the
favoured few. Whether it was owing to his greater facility
of character, and to habits that more easily adapted themselves
to the untutored notions of the Indians, or to their
sense of propriety, Sancho soon became the favourite with
the multitude; leaving the Count of Llera more especially
to the care of Mattinao, and the principal men of his tribe.
Owing to this circumstance, the two Spaniards were soon
separated, Sancho being led away by the oi polloi to a sort
of square in the centre of the village, leaving Don Luis in
the habitation of the Cacique.
No sooner did Mattinao find himself in the company of
our hero, and that of two of his confidential chiefs, than the
name of Ozema was repeated eagerly among the Indians.
A rapid conversation followed, a messenger was dispatched,
Luis knew not whither, and then the chiefs took their departure,
leaving the young Castilian alone with the Cacique.
Laying aside his golden band, and placing a cotton robe
about his person, which had hitherto been nearly naked,
Mattinao made a sign for his companion to follow him, and
and adjusting the belt of his sword in a way that the
weapon should not incommode him in walking, Luis obeyed
with as much confidence as he would have followed a friend
along the streets of Seville.
Mattinao led the way through a wilderness of sweets,
where tropical plants luxuriated beneath the branches of
trees loaded with luscious fruits, holding his course by a footpath
which lay on the banks of a torrent that flowed from
a ravine, and poured its waters into the river below. The
distance he went might have been half a mile. Here he
reached a cluster of rustic dwellings that occupied a lovely
terrace on a hill-side, where they overlooked the larger town
below the river, and commanded a view of the distant ocean.
Luis saw at a glance that this sweet retreat was devoted to
the uses of the gentler sex, and he doubted not that it formed
a species of seraglio, set apart for the wives of the young
cacique. He was led into one of the principal dwellings,
where the simple but grateful refreshments used by the natives,
were again offered to him.
The intercourse of a month had not sufficed to render
either party very familiar with the language of the other.
A few of the commoner words of the Indians had been
caught by the Spaniards, and perhaps Luis was one of the
most ready in their use; still, it is highly probable, he was
oftener wrong than right, even when he felt the most confident
of his success. But the language of friendship is
not easily mistaken, and our hero had not entertained a
feeling of distrust from the time he left the ships, down to
the present moment.
Mattinao had dispatched a messenger to an adjacent
dwelling when he entered that in which Luis was now entertained,
and when sufficient time had been given for the
last to refresh himself, the cacique arose, and by a courteous
gesture, such as might have become a master of ceremonies
in the court of Isabella, he again invited the young
grandee to follow. They took their way along the terrace, to
a house larger than common, and which evidently contained
several subdivisions, as they entered into a sort of anteroom.
Here they remained but a minute; the cacique,
after a short parley with a female, removing a curtain ingeniously
inner apartment. It had but a single occupant, whose
character Luis fancied to be announced in the use of the
single word “Ozema,” that the cacique uttered in a low
affectionate tone, as they entered. Luis bowed to this Indian
beauty, as profoundly as he could have made his
reverence to a high-born damsel of Spain; then, recovering
himself, he fastened one long steady look of admiration on
the face of the curious but half-frightened young creature
who stood before him, and exclaimed, in such tones as only
indicate rapture, admiration and astonishment mingled—
“Mercedes!”
The young cacique repeated this name in the best manner
he could, evidently mistaking it for a Spanish term to
express admiration, or satisfaction; while the trembling
young thing, who was the subject of all this wonder, shrunk
back a step, blushed, laughed, and muttered in her soft low
musical voice, “Mercedes,” as the innocent take up and
renew any source of their harmless pleasures. She then
stood, with her arms folded meekly on her bosom, resembling
a statue of wonder. But it may be necessary to explain
why, at a moment so peculiar, the thoughts and tongue
of Luis had so suddenly resorted to his mistress. In order
to do this, we shall first attempt a short description of the
person and appearance of Ozema, as was, in fact, the name
of the Indian beauty.
All the accounts agree in describing the aborigines of
the West Indies, as being singularly well formed, and of a
natural grace in their movements, that extorted a common
admiration among the Spaniards. Their colour was not unpleasant,
and the inhabitants of Hayti, in particular, were
said to be but very little darker than the people of Spain.
Those who were but little exposed to the bright sun of that
climate, and who dwelt habitually beneath the shades of
groves, or in the retirement of their dwellings, like persons
of similar habits in Europe, might, by comparison, have
even been termed fair. Such was the fact with Ozema,
who, instead of being the wife of the young cacique, was
his only sister. According to the laws of Hayti, the authority
of a cacique was transmitted through females, and
a son of Ozema was looked forward to, as the heir of his
the true royal line, if a term so dignified can be applied to
a state of society so simple, was reduced to these two individuals,
Ozema had been more than usually fostered by
the tribe, leaving her free from care, and as little exposed
to hardships, as at all comported with the condition of her
people. She had reached her eighteenth year, without having
experienced any of those troubles and exposures which
are more or less the inevitable companions of savage life;
though it was remarked by the Spaniards, that all the Indians
they had yet seen seemed more than usually free
from evils of this character. They owed this exemption to
the generous quality of the soil, the genial warmth of the
climate, and the salubrity of the air. In a word, Ozema,
in her person, possessed just those advantages that freedom
from restraint, native graces, and wild luxuriance, might be
supposed to lend the female form, under the advantages of
a mild climate, a healthful and simple diet, and perfect exemption
from exposure, care, or toil. It would not have
been difficult to fancy Eve such a creature, when she first
appeared to Adam, fresh from the hands of her divine creator,
modest, artless, timid, and perfect.
The Haytians used a scanty dress, though it shocked
none of their opinions to go forth in the garb of nature.
Still, few of rank were seen without some pretensions to
attire, which was worn rather as an ornament, or a mark
of distinction, than as necessary either to usage or to comfort.
Ozema herself, formed no exception to the general
rule. A cincture of Indian cloth, woven in gay colours,
circled her slender waist, and fell nearly as low as her
knees; a robe of spotless cotton, inartificially made, but
white as the driven snow, and of a texture so fine that it
might have shamed many of the manufactures of our own
days, fell like a scarf across a shoulder, and was loosely
united at the opposite side, dropping in folds nearly to the
ground. Sandals, of great ingenuity and beauty, protected
the soles of feet that a queen might have envied; and a
large plate of pure gold, rudely wrought, was suspended
from her neck by a string of small but gorgeous shells.
Bracelets of the latter were on her pretty wrists, and two
light bands of gold encircled ankles that were as faultless
of the hair was thought the test of birth, with better
reason than many imagine the feet and hands to be, in
civilized life. As power and rank had passed from female
to female in her family, for several centuries, the hair of
Ozema was silken, soft, waving, exuberant, and black as
jet. It covered her shoulders, like a glorious mantle, and
fell as low as her simple cincture. So light and silken was
this natural veil, that its ends waved in the gentle current
of air that was rather breathing than blowing through the
apartment.
Although this extraordinary creature was much the loveliest
specimen of young womanhood that Luis had seen
among the wild beauties of the islands, it was not so much
her graceful and well-rounded form, or even the charms of
face and expression, that surprised him, as a decided and
accidental resemblance to the being he had left in Spain,
and who had so long been the idol of his heart. This
resemblance alone had caused him to utter the name of his
mistress, in the manner related. Could the two have been
placed together, it would have been easy to detect marked
points of difference between them, without being reduced to
compare the intellectual and thoughtful expression of our
heroine's countenance, with the wondering, doubting, half-startled
look of Ozema; but still the general likeness was
so strong, that no person who was familiar with the face of
one, could fail to note it on meeting with the other. Side by
side, it would have been discovered that the face of Mercedes
had the advantage in finesse and delicacy; that her
features and brow were nobler; her eye more illuminated
by the intelligence within; her smile more radiant with
thought and the feelings of a cultivated woman; her blush
more sensitive, betraying most of the consciousness of conventional
habits; and that the expression generally was
much more highly cultivated, than that which sprung from
the artless impulses and limited ideas of the young Haytian.
Nevertheless, in mere beauty, in youth, and tint, and
outline, the disparity was scarcely perceptible, while the
resemblance was striking; and, on the score of animation,
native frankness, ingenuousness, and all that witchery
which ardent and undisguised feeling lends to woman,
beautiful young Indian, to the more trained and dignified
reserve of the Castilian heiress. What in the latter was
earnest, high-souled, native, but religious enthusiasm, in the
other was merely the outpourings of unguided impulses,
which, however feminine in their origin, were but little
regulated in their indulgence.
“Mercedes!” exclaimed our hero, when this vision of
Indian loveliness unexpectedly broke on his sight. “Mercedes!”
repeated Mattinao; “Mercedes!” murmured Ozema,
recoiling a step, blushing, laughing, and then resuming
her innocent confidence, as she several times uttered the
same word, which she also mistook for an expression of
admiration, in her own low, melodious voice.
Conversation being out of the question, there remained
nothing for the parties but to express their feelings by signs
and acts of amity. Luis had not come on his little expedition
unprovided with presents. Anticipating an interview
with the wife of the cacique, he had brought up from the
village below, several articles that he supposed might suit
her untutored fancy. But the moment he beheld the vision
that actually stood before him, they all seemed unworthy
of such a being. In one of his onsets against the Moors,
he had brought off a turban of rich but light cloth, and he
had kept it as a trophy, occasionally wearing it, in his
visits to the shore, out of pure caprice, and as a sort of
ornament that might well impose on the simple-minded
natives. These vagaries excited no remarks, as mariners
are apt to indulge their whims in this manner, when far
from the observations of those to whom they habitually
defer. This turban was on his head at the moment he
entered the apartment of Ozema, and, overcome with the
delight of finding so unexpected a resemblance, and, possibly,
excited by so unlooked-for an exhibition of feminine
loveliness, he gallantly unrolled it, threw out the folds of
rich cloth, and cast it over the shoulders of the beautiful
Ozema as a mantle.
The expressions of gratitude and delight that escaped
this unsophisticated young creature, were warm, sincere,
and undisguised. She cast the ample robe on the ground
before her, repeated the word “Mercedes,” again and
a generous and ingenuous nature. If we were to say that
this display of Ozema was altogether free from the childlike
rapture that was, perhaps, inseparable from her ignorance,
it would be attributing to her benighted condition the
experience and regulated feelings of advanced civilization;
but, notwithstanding the guileless simplicity with which she
betrayed her emotions, her delight was not without much
of the dignity and tone that usually mark the conduct of
the superior classes all over the world. Luis fancied it as
graceful as it was naïve and charming. He endeavoured
to imagine the manner in which the Lady of Valverde
might receive an offering of precious stones from the gracious
hands of Doña Isabella, and he even thought it very
possible that the artless grace of Ozema was not far behind
what he knew would be the meek self-respect, mingled with
grateful pleasure, that Mercedes could not fail to exhibit.
While thoughts like these were passing through his mind,
the Indian girl laid aside her own less enticing robe, without
a thought of shame, and then she folded her faultless
form in the cloth of the turban. This was no sooner done,
with a grace and freedom peculiar to her unfettered mind,
than she drew the necklace of shells from her person, and
advancing a step or two towards our hero, extended the offering
with a half-averted face, though the laughing and
willing eyes more than supplied the place of language.
Luis accepted the gift with suitable eagerness, nor did he
refrain from using the Castilian gallantry of kissing the
pretty hand from which he took the bauble.
The cacique, who had been a pleased spectator of all
that passed, now signed for the count to follow him, leading
the way towards another dwelling. Here Don Luis was introduced
to other young females, and to two or three children,
the former of whom, he soon discovered, were the
wives of Mattinao, and the latter his offspring. By dint of
gestures, a few words, and such other means of explanation
as were resorted to between the Spaniards and the natives,
he now succeeded in ascertaining the real affinity
which existed between the cacique and Ozema. Our hero
felt a sensation like pleasure when he discovered that the
Indian beauty was not married; and he was fain to refer
that grew out of her resemblance to Mercedes.
The remainder of that, and the whole of the three following
days, were passed by Luis with his friend, the cacique,
in this, the favourite and sacred residence of the
latter. Of course our hero was, if anything, a subject of
greater interest to all his hosts, than they could possibly
be to him. They took a thousand innocent liberties with his
person; examining his dress, and the ornaments he wore,
not failing to compare the whiteness of his skin with the
redder tint of that of Mattinao. On these occasions Ozema
was the most reserved and shy, though her look followed
every movement, and her pleased countenance denoted the
interest she felt in all that concerned the stranger. Hours
at a time, did Luis lie stretched on fragrant mats near this
artless and lovely creature, studying the wayward expression
of her features, in the fond hope of seeing stronger
and stronger resemblances to Mercedes, and sometimes
losing himself in that which was peculiarly her own. In
the course of the time passed in these dwellings, efforts
were made by the count to obtain some useful information
of the island; and whether it was owing to her superior
rank, or to a native superiority of mind, or to a charm of
manner, he soon fancied that the cacique's beautiful sister
succeeded better in making him understand her meaning,
than either of the wives of Mattinao, or the cacique himself.
To Ozema, then, Luis put most of his questions; and ere
the day had passed, this quick-witted and attentive girl had
made greater progress in opening an intelligible understanding
between the adventurers and her countrymen, than had
been accomplished by the communications of the two previous
months. She caught the Spanish words with a readiness
that seemed instinctive, pronouncing them with an
accent that only rendered them prettier and softer to the
ear.
Luis de Bobadilla was just as good a Catholic as a rigid
education, a wandering life, and the habits of the camp,
would be apt to make one of his rank, years, and temperament.
Still, that was an age in which most laymen had a
deep reverence for religion, whether they actually submitted
to its purifying influence, or not. If there were any freethinkers,
passed their lives in their closets, or were to be found
among the churchmen, themselves; who often used the
cowl as a hood to conceal their infidelity. His close association
with Columbus, too, had contributed to strengthen
our hero's tendency to believe in the constant supervision
of Providence; and he now felt a strong inclination to
fancy that this extraordinary facility of Ozema's in acquiring
languages, was one of its semi-miraculous provisions,
made with a view to further the introduction of the
religion of the cross among her people. Often did he
flatter himself, as he sat gazing into the sparkling, and yet
mild, eyes of the girl, listening to her earnest efforts to
make him comprehend her meaning, that he was to be the
instrument of bringing about this great good, through so
young and charming an agent. The admiral had also enjoined
on him the importance of ascertaining, if possible,
the position of the mines, and he had actually succeeded
in making Ozema comprehend his questions on a subject
that was all-engrossing with most of the Spaniards. Her
answers were less intelligible, but Luis thought they never
could be sufficiently full; flattering himself, the whole time,
that he was only labouring to comply with the wishes of
Columbus.
The day after his arrival, our hero was treated to an exhibition
of some of the Indian games. These sports have
been too often described to need repetition here; but, in all
their movements and exercises, which were altogether pacific,
the young princess was conspicuous for grace and
skill. Luis, too, was required to show his powers, and
being exceedingly athletic and active, he easily bore away
the palm from his friend Mattinao. The young cacique
manifested neither jealousy nor disappointment at this result,
while his sister laughed and clapped her hands with
delight, when he was outdone, even at his own sports, by
the greater strength or greater efforts of his guest. More
than once, the wives of Mattinao seemed to utter gentle
reproaches at this exuberance of feeling, but Ozema answered
with smiling taunts, and Luis thought her, at such
moments, more beautiful than even imagination could draw,
and perhaps with justice; for her cheeks were flushed, her
that were visible between lips like cherries, resembled rows
of ivory. We have said that the eyes of Ozema were
black, differing in this particular, from the deep-blue melancholy
orbs of the enthusiastic Mercedes; but still they
were alike, so often uttering the same feelings, more especially
touching matters in which Luis was concerned.
More than once, during the trial of strength, did the young
man fancy that the expression of the rapture which fairly
danced in the eyes of Ozema, was the very counterpart of
that of the deep-seated delight which had so often beamed on
him, from the glances of Mercedes in the tourney; and, at
such times, it struck him that the resemblance between the
two was so strong as, after some allowance had been made
for dress and other sufficiently striking circumstances, to
render them almost identical.
The reader is not to suppose from this, that our hero was
actually inconstant to his ancient love. Far from it. Mercedes
was too deeply enshrined in his heart—and Luis, with
all his faults, was as warm-hearted and true-hearted a cavalier
as breathed—to be so easily dispossessed. But he was
young, distant from her he had so long adored, and was,
withal, not altogether insensible to admiration so artlessly
and winningly betrayed by the Indian girl. Had there been
the least immodest glance, any proof that art or design lay
at the bottom of Ozema's conduct, he would at once have
taken the alarm, and been completely disenthralled from
his temporary delusion; but, on the contrary, all was so
frank and natural with this artless girl; when she most betrayed
the hold he had taken of her imagination, it was
done with a simplicity so obvious, a naïveté so irrepressible,
and an ingenuousness so clearly the fruit of innocence,
that it was impossible to suspect artifice. In a word, our
hero merely showed that he was human, by yielding in a
certain degree to a fascination that, under the circumstances,
might well have made deeper inroads on the faith
even of men who enjoyed much better reputations for stability
of purpose.
In situations of so much novelty, time flies swiftly, and
Luis himself was astonished when, on looking back, he
remembered that he had now been several days with Mattinao,
what might not inaptly be termed the seraglio of the cacique.
Sancho of the ship-yard gate had not been in the
least neglected all this time. He had been a hero, in his
own circle, as well as the young noble, nor had he been at
all forgetful of his duty on the subject of searching for
gold. Though he had neither acquired a single word of
the Haytian language, nor taught a syllable of Spanish to
even one of the laughing nymphs who surrounded him, he
had decorated the persons of many of them with hawk's-bells,
and had contrived to abstract from them, in return,
every ornament that resembled the precious metal, which
they possessed. This transfer, no doubt, was honestly
effected, however, having been made on that favourite principle
of the free trade theorists, which maintains that trade
is merely an exchange of equivalents; overlooking all the
adverse circumstances which may happen, just at the moment,
to determine the standard of value. Sancho had his
notions of commerce as well as the modern philosophers,
and, as he and Luis occasionally met during their sojourn
with Mattinao, he revealed a few of his opinions on this
interesting subject, in one of their interviews.
“I perceive thou hast not forgotten thy passion for doblas,
friend Sancho,” said Luis, laughing, as the old seaman
exhibited the store of dust and golden plates he had collected;
“there is sufficient of the metal in thy sack to coin
a score of them, each having the royal countenances of
our lord the King, and our lady the Queen!”
“Double that, Señor Conde; just double that, and all for
the price of some seventeen hawk's-bells, that cost but a
handful of maravedis. By the mass! this is a most just
and holy trade, and such as it becomes us Christians to
carry on. Here are these savages, they think no more of
gold than your excellency thinks of a dead Moor, and to
be revenged on them, I hold a hawk's-bell just as cheap.
Let them think as poorly as they please of their ornaments
and yellow dust, they will find me just as willing to part
with the twenty hawk's-bells that remain. Let them barter
away, they will find me as ready as they possibly can be,
to give nothing for nothing.”
“Is this quite honest, Sancho, to rob an Indian of his
Remember thou art a Castilian, and henceforth
give two hawk's-bells, where thou hast hitherto given but
one.”
“I never forget my birth, Señor, for happily the ship-yard
of Moguer is in old Spain. Is not the value of a
thing to be settled by what it will bring in the market? ask
any of our traders and they will tell you this, which is
clear as the sun in the heavens. When the Venetians lay
before Candia, grapes and figs, and Greek wine, could be
had for the asking in that island, while western articles
commanded any price. Oh, nothing is plainer than the fact
that every thing hath its price, and it is real trade to give
one worthless commodity for another.”
“If it be honest to profit by the ignorance of another,”
answered Luis, who had a nobleman's contempt for commerce,
“then it is just to deceive the child and the idiot.”
“God forbid, and especially St. Andrew, my patron, that
I should do anything so wicked. Hawk's-bells are of more
account than gold, in Hayti, Señor, and happening to know
it, I am willing to part with the precious things for the
dross. You see I am generous instead of being avaricious,
for all parties are in Hayti, where the value of the articles
must be settled. It is true, that after running great risks at
sea, and undergoing great pains and chances, by carrying
this gold to Spain, I may be requited for my trouble, and
get enough benefit to make an honest livelihood. I hope
Doña Isabella will have so much feeling for these, her new
subjects, as to prevent their ever going into the shipping
business,—a most laborious and dangerous calling, as we
both well know.”
“And why art thou so particular in desiring this favour
in behalf of these poor islanders, and that too, Sancho, at
the expense of thine own bones?”
“Simply, Señor,” answered the knave, with a cunning
loer, “lest it unsettle trade, which ought to be as free and
unencumbered as possible. Here now, if we Spaniards
come to Hayti, we sell one hawk's-bell for a dobla in gold;
whereas, were we to give these savages the trouble to come
to Spain, a dobla of their gold would buy a hundred hawk's-bells!
No — no — it is right as it is; and may a double
throw any difficulties in the way of a good, honest, free and
civilizing trade, say I.”
Sancho was thus occupied in explaining his notions of
free trade, the great mystification of modern philanthropists,
when there arose such a cry in the village of Mattinao, as
is only heard in moments of extreme jeopardy and sudden
terror. The conversation took place in the grove, about
midway between the town and the private dwellings of the
cacique; and so implicit had become the confidence the
two Spaniards reposed in their friends, that neither had any
other arms about his person, than those furnished by nature.
Luis had left both sword and buckler, half an hour earlier,
at the feet of Ozema, who had been enacting a mimic hero,
with his weapons, for their mutual diversion; while Sancho
had found the arquebuse much too heavy to be carried
about for a plaything. The last was deposited in the room
where he had taken up his comfortable quarters.
“Can this mean treachery, Señor?” exclaimed Sancho.
“Have these blackguards found out the true value of
hawk's-bells, after all, and do they mean to demand the
balance due them?”
“My life on it, Mattinao and all his people are true, Sancho.
This uproar hath a different meaning—hark! is not
that the cry of `Caonabo?”'
“The very same, Señor! That is the name of the Carib
cacique, who is the terror of all these tribes.”
“Thy arquebuse, Sancho, if possible; then join me at
the dwellings above. Ozema and the wives of our good
friend must be defended, at every hazard!”
Luis had no sooner given these orders, than he and Sancho
separated, the latter running towards the town, which
by this time was a scene of wild tumult, while our hero,
slowly and sullenly, retired towards the private dwellings
of the cacique, occasionally looking back, as if he longed to
plunge into the thickest of the fray. Twenty times did he
wish for his favourite charger and a stout lance, when,
indeed, it would not have been an extraordinary feat for a
knight of his prowess to put to flight a thousand enemies
like those who now menaced him. Often had he singly
broken whole ranks of Christian foot-soldiers, and it is well
drove hundreds of the natives before them.
The alarm reached the dwellings of Mattinao before our
hero. When he entered the house of Ozema, he found its
mistress surrounded by fifty females, some of whom had
already ascended from the town below, each of whom was
eagerly uttering the terrible name of “Caonabo.” Ozema
herself was the most collected of them all, though it was
apparent that, from some cause, she was an object of particular
solicitude with those around her. As Luis entered
the apartment, the wives of Mattinao were pressing around
the princess; and he soon gathered from their words and
entreaties, that they urged her to fly, lest she should fall
into the hands of the Carib chief. He even fancied, and he
fancied it justly, that the rest of the females supposed the
seizure of the cacique's beautiful sister to be the real object
of the sudden attack. This conjecture in no manner lessened
Luis's ardour in the defence. The moment Ozema
caught sight of him, she flew to his side, clasping her
hands, and uttering the name of “Caonabo,” in a tone that
would have melted a heart of stone. At the same time,
her eyes spoke a language of hope, confidence and petition
that was not necessary to enlist our hero's resolution on
her side. In a moment the sword of the young cavalier
was in his hand, and the buckler on his arm. He then
assured the princess of his zeal, in the best manner he
could, by placing the buckler before her throbbing breast,
and waving the sword, as in defiance of her enemies: no
sooner was this pledge given, than every other female disappeared,
some flying to the rescue of their children, and
all endeavouring to find places of concealment. By this
singular and unexpected desertion, Luis found himself, for
the first time since they had met, alone with Ozema.
To remain in the house would be to suffer the enemy to
approach unseen, and the shrieks and cries sufficiently announced
that, each moment, the danger drew nearer. Luis
accordingly made a sign for the girl to follow him, first rolling
the turban into a bundle and placing it on her arm, that
it might serve her, at need, as a species of shield against
the hostile arrows. While he was thus employed, Ozema's
head fell upon his breast, and the excited girl burst into
moment, when she aroused herself, smiled through her
tears, pressed the arm of Luis convulsively and became
the Indian heroine again. They then left the building
together.
Luis soon perceived that his retreat from the house had
not been made a moment too soon. The family of Mattinao
had already disappeared, and a strong party of the
invaders was in full view, rushing madly up the grove,
silent, but evidently bent on seizing their prey. He felt
Ozema, who clung to his arm, tremble violently, and then
he heard her murmuring,—
“Caonabo,—no—no—no!”
The young Indian princess had caught the Spanish monosyllable
of dissent, and Luis understood this exclamation
to express her strong disinclination to become a wife of the
Carib chief. His resolution to protect her, or to die, was
in no manner lessened by this involuntary betrayal of her
feelings, which he could not but think might have some connexion
with himself; for, while our hero was both honourable
and generous, he was human, and, consequently, well
disposed to take a favourable view of his own powers of
pleasing. It was only in connexion with Mercedes, that
Luis de Bobadilla was humble.
A soldier almost from childhood, the young count looked
hastily around him for a position that would favour his means
of defence, and which would render his arms the most available.
Luckily, one offered so near him, that it required
but a minute to occupy it. The terrace lay against a precipice
of rocks, and, a hundred feet from the house, was a
spot where the face of this precipice was angular, throwing
forward a wall on each side to some distance, while the
cliff above overhung the base sufficiently to remove all danger
from falling stones. In the angle were several large
fragments of rock that would afford shelter against arrows,
and, there being a sufficient space of greensward before
them, on which a knight might well display his prowess
when in possession of this position, our hero felt himself
strong, if not impregnable, since he could be assailed only
in front. Ozema was stationed behind one of the fragments
of the fallen rocks, her person only half concealed, however,
equally inducing her to expose her head and beautiful
bust.
Luis was scarcely in possession of this post, ere a dozen
Indians were drawn up in a line at the distance of fifty
yards in his front. They were armed with bows, war-clubs,
and spears. Being without other defensive armour
than his buckler, the young man would have thought his
situation sufficiently critical, did he not know that the
archery of the natives was anything but formidable. Their
arrows would kill, certainly, when shot at short distances,
and against the naked skin, but it might be questioned if
they would penetrate the stout velvet in which Luis was encased,
and fifty yards was not near enough to excite undue
alarm. The young man did not dare to retreat to the rocks,
as a clear space was indispensable for the free use of his
good sword, and to that weapon alone he looked for his
eventual triumph.
It was, perhaps, fortunate for our hero that Caonabo
himself was not with the party which beleagured him.
That redoubtable chieftain, who had been led to a distance
in pursuit of the flying females, under a belief that she he
sought was among them, would doubtless have brought the
matter to an immediate issue by a desperate charge, when
numbers might have prevailed against courage and skill.
The actual assailants chose a different course, and began
to poise their bows. One of the most skilful among them
drew an arrow to the head, and let it fly. The missile
glanced from the buckler of the knight, and struck the hill
behind him, as lightly as if the parties had been at their
idle sports. Another followed, and Luis turned it aside
with his sword, disdaining to raise his shield against such
a trifle. This cool manner of receiving their assaults caused
the Indians to raise a shout, whether in admiration or rage,
Luis could not tell.
The next attack was more judicious, being made on a
principle that Napoleon is said to have adopted in directing
discharges of his artillery. All those who had bows, some
six or eight, drew their arrows together, and the weapons
came rattling on the buckler of the assailed in a single
flight. It was not easy to escape altogether from such a
from glancing arrows, though no blood followed the blows.
A second attempt of the same nature was about to be made,
when the alarmed girl rushed from her place of concealment,
and, like the Pocahontas of our own history, threw
herself before Luis, with her arms meekly placed on her
bosom. As soon as she appeared, there was a cry of
“Ozema” — “Ozema,” among the assailants, who were
not Caribs, as all will understand who are familiar with the
island history, but milder Haytians, governed by a Carib
chief.
In vain Luis endeavoured to persuade the devoted girl to
withdraw. She thought his life in danger, and no language,
had he been able to exert his eloquence on the occasion,
could have induced her to leave him exposed to such a
danger. As the Indians were endeavouring to obtain
chances at the person of Luis without killing the princess,
he saw there remained no alternative but a retreat behind
the fragments of rock. Just as he obtained this temporary
security, a fierce-looking warrior joined the assailants,
who immediately commenced a vociferous explanation
of the actual state of the attack.
“Caonabo?” demanded Luis, of Ozema, pointing towards
the new-comer.
The girl shook her head, after taking an anxious look at
the stranger's face, at the same time clinging to our hero's
arm, with seductive dependence.
“No—no—no—” she said, eagerly. “No Caonabo—
no—no—no.”
Luis understood the first part of this answer to mean
that the stranger was not the Carib chief; and the last to
signify Ozema's strong and settled aversion to becoming
his wife.
The consultation among the assailants was soon ended.
Six of them then poised their war-clubs and spears, and
made a rush for the citadel of the besieged. When they
were within twenty feet of his cover, our hero sprang
lightly forward on the sward to meet his foes. Two of the
spears he received on his buckler, severing both shafts
with a single blow of his keen and highly-tempered sword.
As he recovered from the effort, with an upward cut he met
and club fell at his feet with the skilful touch. Making a
sweep with the weapon in his front, its point seamed the
breasts of the two astonished spearsmen, whose distance
alone saved them from more serious injuries.
This rapid and unlooked-for execution struck the assailants
with awe and dread. Never before had they witnessed
the power of metal as used in war; and the sudden amputation
of the arm struck them as something miraculous.
Even the ferocious Carib fell back in dismay, and Luis felt
hopes of victory. This was the first occasion on which the
Spaniards had come to blows with the mild inhabitants of
the islands they had discovered, though it is usual with
the historians to refer to an incident of still later occurrence,
as the commencement of strife, the severe privacy
which has ever been thrown over the connexion of Don
Luis with the expedition, having completely baffled their
slight and superficial researches. Of course, the efficiency
of a weapon like that used by our hero, was as novel to
the Haytians as it was terrific.
At this instant a shout among the assailants, and the appearance
of a fresh body of the invaders, with a tall and
commanding chief at their head, announced the arrival of
Caonabo in person. This warlike cacique was soon made
acquainted with the state of affairs, and it was evident that
the prowess of our hero struck him as much with admiration
as with wonder. After a few minutes, he directed his followers
to fall back to a greater distance, and, laying aside his
club, he advanced fearlessly towards Luis, making signs of
amity.
When the two adversaries met, it was with mutual respect
and confidence. The Carib made a short and vehement
speech, in which the only word that was intelligible to
our hero, was the name of the beautiful young Indian. By
this time Ozema had also advanced, as if eager to speak,
and her rude suitor turned to her, with an appeal that was
passionate, if not eloquent. He laid his hand frequently
on his heart, and his voice became soft and persuasive.
Ozema replied earnestly, and in the quick manner of one
whose resolution was settled. At the close of her speech,
the colour mounted to the temples of the ardent girl, and, as
she ended by saying, in Spanish,
“Caonabo — no — no — no! — Luis — Luis!”
The aspect of the hurricane of the tropics is not darker,
or more menacing, than the scowl with which the Carib
chief heard this unequivocal rejection of his suit, accompanied,
as it was, by so plain a demonstration in favour of the
stranger. Waving his hand in defiance, he strode back to
his people, and issued orders for a fresh assault.
This time, a tempest of arrows preceded the rush, and
Luis was fain to seek his former cover behind the rocks.
Indeed, this was the only manner in which he could save
the life of Ozema; the devoted girl resolutely persevering
in standing before his body, in the hope it would shield him
from his enemies. There had been some words of reproach
from Caonabo to the Carib chief, who had retreated from
the first attack, and the air was yet filled with arrows, as
this man rushed forward, singly, to redeem his name. Luis
met him, firm as the rock behind him. The shock was
violent, and the blow that fell on the buckler would have
crushed an arm less enured to such rude encounters; but
it glanced obliquely from the shield, and the club struck
the earth with the weight of a beetle. Our hero saw that
all now depended on a deep impression. His sword flashed
in the bright sun, and the head of the Carib tumbled by the
side of his club, actually leaving the body erect for an instant,
so keen was the weapon, and so dexterous had been
the blow.
Twenty savages were on the spring, but they stopped,
like men transfixed, at this unexpected sight. Caonabo,
however, undaunted even when most surprised, roared out
his orders like a maddened bull, and the wavering crowd
was again about to advance, when the loud report of an
arquebuse was heard, followed by the whistling of its deadly
missives. A second Haytian fell dead in his tracks. It
exceeded the powers of savage endurance to resist this assault,
which, to their uninstructed minds, appeared to come
from heaven. In two minutes, neither Caonabo nor any of
his followers were visible. As they rushed down the hill,
Sancho appeared from a cover, carrying the arquebuse,
which he had taken the precaution to reload.
The circumstances did not admit of delay. Not a being
of Mattinao's tribe was to be seen in any direction; and Luis
made no doubt they had all fled. Determined to save Ozema
at every hazard, he now took his way to the river, in
order to escape in one of the canoes. In passing through
the town, it was seen that not a house had been plundered;
and the circumstance was commented on by the Spaniards,
Luis pointing it out to his companion.
“Caonabo—no—no—no—Ozema!—Ozema!” was the
answer of the girl, who well knew the real object of the
inroad.
A dozen canoes lay at the landing, and five minutes
sufficed for the fugitives to enter one, and to commence
their retreat. The current flowed towards the sea, and in
a couple of hours they were on the ocean. As the wind
blew constantly from the eastward, Sancho soon rigged
an apology for a sail, and, an hour before the sun set, the
party landed on a point that concealed them from the bay;
Luis being mindful of the admiral's injunction, to conceal
his excursion, lest others might claim a similar favour.
| CHAPTER VII. Mercedes of Castile, or, The voyage to Cathay | |