 | CHAPTER XII.
LIGHTS AND SHADOWS—THE MINGLED DRAUGHT. The damsel of Darien |  |
12. CHAPTER XII.
LIGHTS AND SHADOWS—THE MINGLED DRAUGHT.
With the dawn of day, Vasco Nunez prepared to descend
the mountains, and accordingly divided his little
band into three several bodies for the discovery of the
easier routes to the sea. The whole country lay in the
tangled intricacy of the original forest, undefiled by the
axe, and totally uncleared for the footsteps of the wayfarer.
The task was still no easy one to reach the ocean, which
lay yet in sight. But these difficulties were soon surmounted
by the enthusiasm of the chief and the buoyant
spirits and hardy frames of his followers. The marvellous
discovery was held to be complete when Vasco Nunez,
marching waist-deep into the waves of the ocean, claimed
its possession and dominion in behalf of the sovereigns of
Castile, Leon, and Arragon, Don Ferdinand and Donna
Juanna. It is not our present design to trace his farther
progress among the wild lands and wilder nations of
savages, which he deemed it necessary to overrun and
subdue, in order to the better confirmation of his conquests.
These events belong rather to history—to the
history of the times, and of the Spanish nation,—than to
the great man by whom the expedition was led; and in
what we have written, our object has not been so much
the illustration of known events, as of the peculiar fortunes
of the person by whom they were achieved. It
will be sufficient for our purpose to state in brief that
Vasco Nunez returned to Coyba, sick but in safety;
having survived a thousand disasters, having baffled as
many dangers—overcoming all the savage tribes which
opposed him, and winning golden spoils at every step in
damsel awaiting him with an anxiety fitly proportioned to
the extent of her fears at the perils he had undertaken, and
in which, greatly against her desire, his tender regard would
not suffer her to share. Her love, subdued by the superior
awe which she felt in the presence of his greatness, would
not permit her to return the fond embrace which he gave
her, but she sunk down at his feet and clasped his knees
in her arms, and kissed, sobbing all the while, the warlike
hand of which she had possessed herself. Having rested
for a few days at Coyba, he re-embarked for Santa Maria,
and reached the river of Darien on the following day.
Great was the delight of the inhabitants at his return—a
delight not a little increased when they beheld the profusion
of wealth which he brought, and which they were
allowed to share equally with the adventurers whose valour
had procured it. It consisted of gold and pearls, mantles,
hammocks, and many varieties of wrought cotton, chiefly
intended for garments, and many captives of both sexes,
with whom the conqueror contemplated the prosecution of
certain plans of colonization which were to disarm them,
by means of appropriate labour, of their more rude, savage,
and, not uncommonly, cannibal propensities. A fifth of the
spoil was set apart for the royal treasury, and the rest
shared equally among the adventurers.
Thus, says the historian, ended an expedition which
may be considered one of the most remarkable ever
undertaken by the early discoverers. With a handful of
men, its hero had penetrated far into a wild and mountainous
country, filled by tribes, all numerous and warlike, and
tenacious to the last of their savage independence. His
skill in their constant defeat, no less than in the management
of his own followers—stimulating their valour when
it flagged under fatigues and privations that seemed to justify
discontent; soothing or compelling their obedience,
when suffering moved them to insubordination; and still,
under all circumstances, attaching their affections to himself
as their friend and fellow, no less than their commander;—amply
attested the surpassing merits of his generalship.
Add to this, that his personal courage and
resolution were no less conspicuous at all moments. For
ever first in danger, he was still the last to leave the field.
He shrank from no toil, avoided no difficulty, feared no
with the meanest of his men, he secured a place in their
affections no less firm than that which he held in their esteem.
Frank affability, the invariable companion of true
greatness in every character, marked his deportment to all
around him, without disparaging his dignity or impairing
in any respect the energy of his resolves. He forgot no
follower whom he had ever known, but consoled him in
misfortune, visited him in sickness, and soothed him by
gifts and friendly offices, which win the heart more than
any gifts. Nor, though in battle, realizing all the terrors
of the warlike mood as described by Shakspeare, can the
sin of unnecessary bloodshed be laid at his door, if we
consider the character of the age in which he lived, the
peculiar barbarism of many of the foes with whom he
fought, and the perils of his condition, which seemed to
call for and to justify it. That the savages themselves acquitted
him of the stain of cruelty, may be fairly presumed
from the singular and unbounded confidence which they
reposed in him, by the firmness of their friendship, and
the affectionate homage which they offered him, once
known to them, wherever he came. Nor is he to be considered
the merely skilful and successful soldier of fortune.
Justly considered, there was a nobleness in his aim, a
grandeur in his genius—in his persevering pursuit of the
one great object—in its first conception, and in the elastic
resolution which never suffered him to waver in moments
when all other men had been lost.
When Vasco Nunez surveyed the piles of treasure
which had been set aside from his spoils for the royal
coffers, he flattered himself that whatever might have been
the previous judgment of the avaricious monarch against
him, his decision would be altered at a sight of such unusual
magnificence, and at tidings of so much greater importance
which he was prepared to send him.
“Have I not,” said he, speaking to the astrologer on
this subject, “have I not give a new ocean to his crown?
—Cristovallo Colon gave new lands only!—and how
many tributary shores and empires lie within that gift? I
have outspread the Spanish flag to the embraces of a foreign
breeze, that comes, blossoming in its odour, from gardens
of the orient—spicy realms, that give token of their being,
though a thousand leagues of sea yet lie between us and
of these tidings in Spain, that Ferdinand shall mete out
harsh judgment against me. It were against reason to believe
it. No! no! I have nothing now to fear.”
That day he prepared his despatches, in which he gave
a full detail of his expedition—setting forth all that he had
seen or heard of the great southern sea, and of the rich
countries that lay upon its borders. In addition to the
royal fifth, he prepared from his own share a present for
his sovereign, consisting of the most precious pearls which
had been collected. These he sent by Pedro de Arbolancha,
an intelligent follower and tried friend; and having thus, as
he thought, presented to his monarch a claim to his favouring
consideration, which could not be set aside, he resolved
to dismiss from his mind all anxiety about the event. The
emissary, after a delay protracted to a length most injurious
to the fortunes of his superior, appeared at length in the
royal presence, and announcing the successes of Vasco
Nunez, laid before him the rich treasures which he had
brought, the gold and the pearls, which attested alike the
value and the truth of his discoveries. “King Ferdinand,”
says the historian, “listened with charmed attention to this
tale of unknown seas and wealthy realms added to his empire.
It filled, in fact, the imaginations of the most sage
and learned with golden dreams, and anticipations of unbounded
riches.” Old Peter Martyr, who received letters
from his friends in Darien, and communicated by word of
mouth with those who came from thence, writes to Leo X.
in exulting terms of this event. “Spain,” says he, “will
hereafter be able to satisfy with pearls the greedy appetite
of such as in wanton pleasures are like unto Cleopatra and
æsopus; so that henceforth we shall neither envy nor
reverence the nice fruitfulness of Trapoban or the Red Sea.
The Spaniards will not need hereafter to mine and dig far
into the earth, nor to cut asunder mountains in quest of
gold, but will find it plentifully, in a manner, on the upper
crust of the earth, or in the sands of rivers dried up by the
heats of summer. Certainly, the reverend antiquity obtained
not so great a benefit of nature, nor even aspired to
the knowledge thereof, since never man before, from the
known world, penetrated to those unknown regions.” All
Spain rang with the name and glory of Vasco Nunez, and
he, who but a few months before had been adjudged a lawless
Columbus, and lauded as his most worthy successor.
Ferdinand repented of his hasty judgment, and commanded
Fonseca to find a mode for rewarding his transcendant
services; but while these honours were preparing for him
in Europe, Don Pedrarias Davila, whom, at the instigation
of Fonseca, the king had appointed governor of Darien,
was speeding far and fast over the ocean, and rapidly nearing
the province which had been thus prematurely assigned
him. With a fleet of fifteen sail, and a splendid and well-equipped
army, consisting chiefly of the accomplished and
graceful young cavaliers of Spain, the new governor, who
was a man of a proud, ostentatious temper, contemplated the
overthrow at once of every thing like opposition on the
part of the hardy warrior he was sent to supersede. He
was accompanied by his wife, a noble lady, who would
not be left behind in Spain, and who was probably moved
to the journey by the contiguousness of her daughter
Teresa, whom the reader will remember to have left at
San Domingo, and whom she had not seen for years. It
may be that Pedrarias was presented to the mind of Fonseca
as governor of Darien, as well because of his connexion
with the new world, as because of the partial favour in
which he was regarded at the court.
Meanwhile, equally unconscious of the honours preparing
for him in Spain, and of the approach of that armament
which had been commissioned to consign him to
punishment or obscurity, Vasco Nunez, throwing aside
the habits of the soldier, devoted himself, with paternal
solicitude, to the cultivation and improvement of Darien.
Already, under his master-mind, the town contained more
than two hundred houses, with a population of five hundred
Europeans and fifteen hundred Indians. Orehards
and gardens had been laid out and filled with fruits and
vegetables, native and European. One leading object of
the chief was to render the settlement independent of Europe
for supplies. Spaniards and Indians worked equally
in the fields and upon the dwellings, and the toils of the
labourer were relieved by the sports of the cavalier and
soldier. He devised various means to enliven the tediousness
of a life, no longer passed in exciting and hourly adventure.
The national pastimes were accorded them on
frequent holidays; and tilting-matches, of which the valiant
studiously encouraged. A general communion was opened
with most of the Indian neighbours, and so successful had
he been in securing the friendship of the savages, that the
roving Spaniard was no longer solicitous of his weapons
when he wandered away into the forests. Zemaco, baffled,
beaten, and dispirited, had buried his shame in the sullen
fastnesses of his distant mountains.
Vasco Nunez was thus employed when, in the month of
June, the fleet of Don Pedrarias Davila appeared in the
Gulf of Uraba. The heart of the conqueror swelled within
him, at the sight of this armament, with conflicting emotions.
Was it the messenger of reward or punishment?
Was this powerful array sent in compliance with his entreaties,
or in opposition to his rule? He was not suffered
to remain long in doubt and anxiety. The Spanish cavaliers
who came with Davila were eager to land and see the
wonders of the place, but the governor, who had been
warned of the resolute character of Vasco Nunez, and
could readily understand the difference between his own
silken followers, and the `iron men' who had followed
the fortunes, and shared in all the miseries which had befallen
Ojeda, Nicuesa, and Vasco Nunez, was cautious
enough to restrain their desires, and instead of approaching,
in compliance with their clamours, he anchored his
fleet at some distance from the settlement. He then despatched
a messenger to announce to Vasco Nunez his
arrival and authority. At the first intimation of the truth,
his friends gathered about the chief, and the veteran warriors
who had followed him so long, seizing their weapons,
surrounded his dwelling, and swore to maintain his cause
in defiance of any numbers. They prayed him to resist
the summons of Pedrarias, and, in their clamours against
the injustice which he suffered, did not spare their sovereign.
Their officers goaded them by their exhortations,
and Francisco Pizarro was the first to propose that they
should display themselves at once, and resist the landing
of the enemy. The astrologer looked on with a moody silence,
while the youth, Pedro, grasping suddenly the hand
of the chief, while his eyes flashed fire, and his cheeks
were kindled up with enthusiasm, exclaimed—
“Oh, señor, you will not surely give up to this insolent
demand? You will resist,—you will send back defiance;
your battle. Shall it be that you have taken these toils and
perils, only to reward the idle creatures of the court? It
must not be. It were shame and sorrow to think so.”
“Nay, Pedro, you mistake,” replied Vasco Nunez—“I
have not taken this toil and peril for others. They may
take from me the government of Darien, but know, boy,
that no injustice—no tyranny can take from a man the reputation
of his great deeds. These are mine, that Pedrarias
cannot take—these are mine, that I cannot lose, though I
lose all other possessions.”
But a strange struggle took place in the warrior's feelings
as he approached the veterans who surrounded his
dwelling, and strove to compose himself while he spoke to
them. Their arms sank down as he stood forward—their
clamours were suddenly stilled; as suddenly as the cries
of inferior forest tribes, when the lion, rising from his lair,
suddenly walks forth from the jungle. Vasco Nunez had
already come to his resolution, but there was a strong human
impulse which he found it difficult to subdue, and
which still continued to war against it. He did not the less
feel the injustice for which his followers, with less discretion,
would have had him become a rebel to his sovereign,
though he had determined patiently to submit to it, leaving
it to time, that calm reviser of man's judgment and injustice,
to do him right, though it might be after the delay of many
days. There is a majesty in patience which is superior to
the greatest display of passion; and Vasco Nunez lost
nothing of his dignity, in the regards of his people, when
he declared his intention to submit to the authority set
over him.
“Go back,” he said to the messenger of Pedrarias, who
stood trembling at his side, the witness of a fury on the
part of the enraged soldiery, which, at one moment, threatened
to destroy him—“go back to Don Pedrarias Davila
—tell him that Vasco Nunez, for himself and his followers,
assures him of their welcome and his own. Say that
I congratulate him on his safe arrival at Darien, and am
ready, with all here, to obey his orders.”
A deep groan burst from the crowd as they heard this
message.
“Wherefore doth this resolve displease ye, my friends?”
demanded Vasco Nunez, while the big drop gathered in
“Is it so uncommon a thing for the soldier to suffer injustice
from the sovereign he has served, that ye should behold
my wrong beyond all others, and hold it so very grievous?
Let it not be thus, I pray ye. King Ferdinand hath
surely right to choose his own governor and the governor
of his people, and neither ye nor I should complain of this.
In submitting to Pedrarias, you submit only to our sovereign;
and the love I have borne ye, and the toils through
which I have led ye in safety and good fortune, give us
no right to defy the authority of our king, and him whom
he sends to command in his place. Let it be our prayer
that he shall command ye, as it has been my desire to do,
to the prosperity and the glory of all. So shall ye always
triumph, in all times and in every country. Be not angry
with me, my friends, in the moment when the tie is severed
that hath bound us so long together. It may be that,
when the royal Ferdinand shall hear of our doings, and
shall know the truth, he will again suffer me to lead you
to other no less wondrous discoveries that crowd upon
my thought even now. Freely do I give ye up to another,
but not with joy. My heart is even more sad than
yours.”
“It is done!” were the words of Vasco Nunez, as he
retired to his apartments, secluded from all but the devoted
Indian damsel, who watched with trembling emotion, but
without speech, the varying shadows of his countenance.
His eye was suddenly fixed upon her anxious features, and
a keen, painful memory of Teresa Davila, forced itself upon
his mind.
“Truly,” he murmured, “there may be something of
truth in those words of Micer Codro, and the evil genius
of Vasco Nunez may yet prove a woman. Should this
haughty knight, Pedrarias, of whose pride they speak such
things, look on me with ill favour, it were fuel to his wrath
to know that I have striven for his daughter. Careta!” he
exclaimed, after a brief interval, “come hither! I had forgotten
thy lessons in the troubles of other things. My heart
feels weary and sad—it will turn me from heavy thoughts
to give ear to thy childish prattle.”
“My lord is sad—let him not give himself care of the
poor girl of Darien. Let him lie down in the hammock,
sing him a song of Coyba, which shall make him sleep.”
“Sleep! sleep! would I could sleep for a while; but
no! I must go forth and meet this man who bears with
him my destiny. Careta, my child, should any harm
happen to me in Darien, thou shalt make thy way back to
thy father in Coyba. The old man, Micer Codro, whom
thou seest with me so often, will help thee to a means of
flight.”
“Harm to thee—harm to my lord!” exclaimed the
damsel in language more broken than usual from the rapidity
of her present utterance, “what means my lord, by
harm?”
“Should my enemies make me captive and send me to
Spain, Careta.”
“I will go with my lord—yes! yes! Careta will go
with my lord wherever they send him.”
“Should they hate me—should they kill—”
“Ah, no! no! no! they will not—they cannot. My
lord has strong warriors—he numbered them at sunset—
they were many. They will do battle for my lord.”
“But, should mine enemies prevail, Careta—should
they put chains on my hands and put me into the dungeon—”
“Careta will hold up the heavy chains, and sing to my
lord in the dungeon.”
“But if they doom him, Careta—if he dies.”
“Careta will die too.”
“Truly, there is mercy even in the wrath of God, and
sweetness amid all the bitter of evil. Wherefore should I
be cast down because of the loss of this earthly power,
when I have a power over men's hearts—when not even
the decree of a monarch can take from me the affections of
these wild warriors, and the love of this simple savage.
Come to me, Careta!”—he stooped and pressed his lips
upon her forehead,—“I trust we shall escape both the
prison and the death. I trust to live so long as thou shalt
love me.”
Her eyes brightened up as she threw herself into his
arms, exclaiming—
“I will love my lord for ever and ever.”
| CHAPTER XII.
LIGHTS AND SHADOWS—THE MINGLED DRAUGHT. The damsel of Darien | |