Reinforcements from Spain. Aid
sent to Borrica. Line of Defense Chosen
by the Natives. Religion of the Buccaneers. The
Battle and the Rout. Strategy of racca. Cruelty
of Don Pedro. The Retreat. Character
of Uracca. Embarrassment of Don Pedro. Warning
of M. Codro. Expedition of Pizarro. Mission
of M. Codro. Letter of De Soto to Isabella.
While governor Don Pedro was awaiting
with intense anxiety the receipt of intelligence from
Borrica, a ship arrived from Spain bringing three
or four hundred adventurers, all of whom were eager
for any military expedition which would open to them
an opportunity for plunder. One hundred and fifty
of these were regular soldiers, well taught in the
dreadful trade of war. Don Pedro took these fresh
troops and one hundred and fifty volunteers; and set
out with the utmost expedition for Borrica. His
impetuous nature was inspired with zeal to retrieve
the disgrace which had befallen the Spanish arms.
He took with him several pieces of ordnance, guns
with which the Indians thus far had no acquaintance.
Upon arriving at Borrica he very earnestly
harangued his troops, reminding them of the ancient
renown of the Spanish soldiers, and stimulating their
cupidity by the assurance that the kingdom of Veragua,
over which Uracca reigned, was full of gold; and that
all that was now requisite for the conquest of the
country and the accumulation of princely wealth, was
a display of the bravery ever characteristic of Spanish
troops.
There was a deep and rapid river,
the Arva, rushing down from the mountains, which it
was necessary for the Spaniards to cross in their
renewed invasion of Veragua. On the northern banks
of this stream Uracca stationed his troops, selecting
this spot with much skill as his main line of defence.
He however posted an advanced guard some miles south
of the stream in ground broken by hills, rocks and
ravines, through which the Spaniards would be compelled
to pass, and where their cavalry could be of very
little avail.
By great effort Don Pedro had collected
an army of about five hundred men. Rapidly marching,
he soon reached the spot of broken ground where the
native troops were stationed awaiting their approach.
It seems almost incomprehensible that
this band of thieves and murderers, who, without the
slightest excuse or provocation, were invading the
territory of the peaceful natives, carrying to their
homes death and woe, that they might acquire fame for
military exploits and return laden with plunder, could
have looked to God for his blessing upon their infamous
expedition. But so it was. And still more
strange to say, they did not apparently engage in these
religious services with any consciousness of hypocrisy.
The thoughtful mind is bewildered in contemplating
such developments of the human heart. Previous
to the attack the whole army was drawn up for prayers,
which were solemnly offered by the ecclesiastics who
always accompanied these expeditions. Then every
soldier attended the confessional and received absolution.
Thus he felt assured that, should he fall in the battle,
he would be immediately translated to the realms of
the blest.
Thus inspired by military zeal and
religious fanaticism, the Spaniards rushed upon the
natives in a very impetuous assault. We are happy
to record that the natives stood nobly on the defence.
They met their assailants with such a shower of arrows
and javelins that the Spaniards were first arrested
in their march, then driven back, then utterly routed
and put to flight. In that broken ground where
the cavalry could not be brought into action, where
every native warrior stood behind a tree or a rock,
and where the natives did not commence the action
till the Spaniards were within half bow shot of them,
arrows and javelins were even more potent weapons of
war than the clumsy muskets then in use.
Upon the open field the arrows of
the natives were quite impotent. A bullet could
strike the heart at twice or three times the distance
at which an arrow could be thrown. The Spaniards,
hotly pursued, retreated from this broken ground several
miles back into the open plain. Many were slain.
Here the rout was arrested by the cavalry and the
discharges from the field-pieces, which broke the Indian
ranks.
The natives, however, boldly held
their ground, and the Spaniards, disheartened and
mortified by their discomfiture, encamped upon the
plain. It was very evident that God had not listened
to their prayers.
For several days they remained in
a state of uncertainty. For five hundred Spaniards
to retreat before eight hundred natives, would inflict
a stigma upon their army which could never be effaced.
They dared not again attack the natives who were flushed
with victory in their stronghold. They were well
aware that the band of warriors before them was but
the advanced guard of the great army of Uracca.
These eight hundred natives were led by one of Uracca’s
brothers. Even should these Indians be attacked
and repulsed, they had only to retreat a few miles,
cross the river Arva in their canoes, and on the northern
banks join the formidable army of twenty thousand men
under their redoubtable chief, who had already displayed
military abilities which compelled the Spaniards to
regard him with dread.
Affairs were in this position when
Uracca adopted a stratagem which completely deceived
the Spaniards and inflicted upon them very serious
loss. He caused several of his warriors to be
taken captive. When closely questioned by Don
Pedro where gold was to be found, and threatened with
torture if they refused the information, they with
great apparent reluctance directed their captors to
a spot, at the distance of but a few leagues, where
the precious metal could be obtained in great abundance.
These unlettered savages executed their artifice with
skill which would have done honor even to European
diplomatists.
Don Pedro immediately selected a company
of forty of his most reliable men and sent them to
the designated spot. Here they were surrounded
by Indian warriors in ambush, and the whole party,
with the exception of three, put to death. The
three who escaped succeeded in reaching the Spanish
camp with tidings of the disaster. Don Pedro in
his rage ordered his captives to be torn to pieces,
by the bloodhounds. They were thrown naked to
the dogs. The Spaniards looked on complacently,
as the merciless beasts, with bloody fangs, tore them
limb from limb, devouring their quivering flesh.
The natives bore this awful punishment with fortitude
and heroism, which elicited the admiration of their
foes. With their last breath they exulted that
they were permitted to die in defence of their country.
The expedition of Don Pedro had thus
far proved an utter failure. He had already lost
one-fourth of his army through the prowess of the
natives. The prospect before him was dark in the
extreme. His troops were thoroughly discouraged,
and the difficulties still to be encountered seemed
absolutely insurmountable. Humiliated as never
before, the proud Don Pedro was compelled to order
a retreat. He returned to Panama, where, as we
have mentioned, he had removed his seat of government
from Darien. Panama was north of Darien, or rather
west, as the isthmus there runs east and west.
Its seaport was on the Pacific, not the Atlantic coast.
Uracca, having thus rescued his country
from the invaders, did not pursue the retreating Spaniards.
He probably in this course acted wisely. Could
Don Pedro have drawn his enemies into the open field,
he could undoubtedly have cut down nearly their whole
army with grape shot, musketry, and charges by his
strongly mounted steel-clad cavaliers. A panic
had however pervaded the Spanish camp. They were
in constant apprehension of pursuit. Even when
they had reached Panama, they were day after day in
intense apprehension of the approach of their outnumbering
foes, by whose valor they had already been discomfited,
and so greatly disgraced.
“When the Spaniards looked out
towards the mountains and the plains,” writes
the Spanish historian Herrera, “the boughs of
trees and the very grass, which grew high in the
savannas, appeared to their excited imagination
to be armed with Indians. And when they turned
their eyes towards the sea, they fancied that
it was covered with canoes of their exasperated
foemen.”
Uracca must have been in all respects
an extraordinary man. We have the record of his
deeds only from the pen of his enemies. And yet
according to their testimony, he, a pagan, manifested
far more of the spirit of Christ than did his Christian
opponents. In the war which he was then waging,
there can be no question whatever that the wrong was
inexcusably and outrageously on the side of Don Pedro.
We cannot learn that Uracca engaged in any aggressive
movements against the Spaniards whatever. He
remained content with expelling the merciless intruders
from his country. Even the fiendlike barbarism
of the Spaniards could not provoke him to retaliatory
cruelty. The brutal soldiery of Spain paid no
respect whatever to the wives and daughters of the
natives, even to those of the highest chieftains.
On one occasion a Spanish lady, Donna
Clara Albitez, fell into the hands of Uracca.
He treated her with as much delicacy and tenderness
as if she had been his own daughter or mother, and
availed himself of the first opportunity of restoring
her to her friends.
Though De Soto was one of the bravest
of his cavaliers, and was so skilful as an officer
that his services were almost indispensable to Don
Pedro, yet the governor was anxious to get rid of him.
It is probable that he felt somewhat condemned by
the undeniable virtues of De Soto; for the most of
men can feel the power of high moral principle as
witnessed in others. De Soto, intensely proud,
was not at all disposed to play the sycophant before
his patron. He had already exasperated him by
his refusal to execute orders which he deemed dishonorable.
And worst of all, by winning the love of Isabella,
he had thwarted one of the most ambitious of Don Pedro’s
plans; he having contemplated her alliance with one
of the most illustrious families of the Spanish nobility.
Don Pedro did not dare to send De
Soto to the scaffold or to order him to be shot.
He had already braved public opinion by the outrageous
execution of Vasco Nunez, without a shadow of law or
justice, and had drawn down upon himself an avalanche
of condemnation from the highest dignitaries of both
church and state. He was trembling through fear
that the Spanish government might call him to account
for this tyrannic act. Thus situated, it was
highly impolitic to send De Soto, who was greatly
revered and admired by the army, to the block.
He therefore still sought, though with somewhat waning
zeal, to secure the death of De Soto on the field
of battle. De Soto could not fail to perceive
that Don Pedro was not his friend. Still, being
a magnanimous man himself, he could not suspect the
governor of being guilty of such treachery as to be
plotting his death.
When the little army of Spaniards
was beleaguered at Borrica, and De Soto with his cavalry
was scouring the adjacent country on foraging expeditions,
he chanced to rescue from captivity M. Codro, an Italian
philosopher, who had accompanied the Spaniards to Darien.
In the pursuit of science, he had joined the forty
men who, under the command of Herman Ponce, had been
sent as a reinforcement to Borrica. While at
some distance from the camp on a botanical excursion,
he was taken captive by the natives, and would have
been put to death but for the timely rescue by De
Soto.
M. Codro was an astrologer. In
that superstitious age he was supposed by others,
and probably himself supposed, that by certain occult
arts he was able to predict future events. Six
months after the return of the Spaniards from their
disastrous expedition against Uracca, this singular
man sought an interview with De Soto, and said to him:
“A good action deserves better
reward than verbal acknowledgment. While it was
not in my power to make any suitable recompense to
you for saving my life, I did not attempt to offer
you any. But the time has now come when I can
give you some substantial evidence of my gratitude.
I can now inform you that your life is now in no less
danger than mine was when you rescued me from the Indians.”
De Soto replied: “My good
friend, though I do not profess to be a thorough believer
in your prophetic art, I am no less thankful for your
kind intentions. And in this case, I am free to
confess that your information, from whatever source
derived, is confirmed in a measure by my own observations.”
“Ferdinand De Soto,” said
the astrologer with great deliberation and solemnity
of manner, “I think I can read the page of your
destiny, even without such light as the stars can
shed upon it. Be assured that the warning I give
you does not come from an unearthly source. But
if any supernatural confirmation of my words were
needed, even on that score you might be satisfied.
While comparing your horoscope with that of my departed
friend Vasco Nunez, I have observed some resemblances
in your lives and fortunes, which you, with all your
incredulity, must allow to be remarkable. Nunez
and you were both born in the same town; were both
members of noble but impoverished families; both sought
to ally yourselves with the family of Don Pedro, and
both thus incurred his deadly resentment.”
“These coincidences are certainly
remarkable,” replied De Soto; “but what
other similarities do you find in the destinies of
Nunez and myself?”
“You are a brave man,”
replied M. Codro, “and you are too skeptical
to be much disturbed by the prognostications of evil.
I may therefore venture to tell you that according
to my calculations, you will be in one important event
of your life more happy than Vasco Nunez. It seems
to be indicated by the superior intelligences, that
your death will not be in the ordinary course of nature;
but I find likewise that the term of your life will
be equal to that which Nunez attained. When I
consider your present circumstances, this appears to
me to be the most improbable part of the prediction.”
Nunez was forty-two years old at the
time of his death. This gave De Soto the promise
of nearly twenty years more of life. Reverently
he replied, “I am in the hands of God.
I rely with humble confidence on his protection.”
“In that you do well,”
rejoined M. Codro. “Still it is your duty
to use such human means as may be required to defend
yourself against open violence or fraudful malice.”
De Soto thanked the astrologer for
the caution he had given him, and as he reflected
upon it, saw that it was indeed necessary to be constantly
on his guard. As time passed on Don Pedro became
more undisguised in his hostility to De Soto.
Ferdinand and Isabella exerted all their ingenuity
to correspond with each other. Don Pedro had
been equally vigilant in his endeavors to intercept
their letters; and so effectual were the plans which
he adopted, that for five years, while the lovers
remained perfectly faithful to each other, not a token
of remembrance passed between them.
These were weary years to De Soto.
He was bitterly disappointed in all his expectations.
There was no glory to be obtained even in victory,
in riding rough-shod over the poor natives. And
thus far, instead of victory attending the Spanish
arms, defeat and disgrace had been their doom.
Moreover, he was astonished and heartily ashamed when
he saw the measures which his countrymen had adopted
to enrich themselves. They were highway robbers
of the most malignant type. They not only slaughtered
the victims whom they robbed, but fired their dwellings,
trampled down their harvests and massacred their wives
and children.
The most extravagant tales had been
circulated through Europe respecting the wealth of
the New World. It was said that masses of pure
gold could be gathered like pebble stones from the
banks of the rivers, and that gems of priceless value
were to be found in the ravines. De Soto had
been now five years on the isthmus of Darien, and
had acquired neither fame nor fortune, and there was
nothing in the prospect of the future to excite enthusiasm
or even hope.
There was quite a remarkable man,
made so by subsequent events, under the command of
Don Pedro. His name was Francisco Pizarro.
He was a man of obscure birth and of very limited
education, save only in the material art of war.
He could neither read nor write, and was thus intellectually
hardly the equal of some of the most intelligent of
the natives. We have briefly alluded to him as
entrusted with the command of one portion of the army
in the inglorious expedition against Uracca.
De Soto had very little respect for the man, and was
not at all disposed as a subordinate officer to look
to him for counsel. Don Pedro, however, seems
to have formed a high opinion of the military abilities
of Pizarro. For notwithstanding his ignominious
defeat and retreat from Veragua, he now appointed
him as the leader of an expedition, consisting of
one hundred and thirty men, to explore the western
coast of the isthmus by cruising along the Pacific
Ocean.
Pizarro set sail from Panama on the
fourteenth of November, 1524, in one small vessel.
It was intended that another vessel should soon follow
to render such assistance as might be necessary.
De Soto was urged to become one of this party; but
probably from dislike of Pizarro, refused to place
himself under his command.
The vessel, which was soon joined
by its consort under Almagro, coasted slowly along
in a northerly direction, running in at every bay,
and landing whenever they approached a flourishing
Indian village, plundering the natives and maltreating
them in every shameful way. At length they aroused
such a spirit of desperation on the part of the natives,
that they fell upon the buccaneers with resistless
ferocity. Two-thirds of the miscreants were slain.
Pizarro barely escaped with his life, having received
severe wounds and being borne to his ship in a state
of insensibility.
While Pizarro was absent on this ill-fated
expedition, a new trouble befell Don Pedro. Las
Casas, a devoted Christian missionary, whose indignation
was roused to the highest pitch by the atrocities
perpetrated upon the Indians, reported the inhuman
conduct of Don Pedro to the Spanish government.
The King appointed Peter de Los Rios to succeed him.
The new governor was to proceed immediately to Panama
and bring the degraded official to trial, and, if found
guilty, to punishment. The governor of a Spanish
colony in those days was absolute. Don Pedro
had cut off the head of his predecessor, though that
predecessor was one of the best of men. He now
trembled in apprehension of the loss of his own head.
Conscious of his deserts, he was terror-stricken.
About four or five hundred miles north
of Panama there was the magnificent province of Nicaragua.
The isthmus is here about one hundred and fifty miles
in breadth, and the province being about two hundred
miles in a line from north to south, extended from
the Atlantic to the Pacific shores. Don Pedro
was popular with his brutal soldiery, since he allowed
them unlimited license and plunder. He resolved,
surrounded by them, to take refuge in Nicaragua.
Nevertheless, to render himself as secure as possible,
he decided to send an agent to plead his cause at
the Spanish court.
Among those rude, unprincipled adventurers,
men of violence and blood, it was very difficult to
find a suitable person. At length he fixed with
much hesitation upon M. Codro, the astrologer.
He was a simple-minded, good man; learned, though
very artless. M. Codro was strongly attached
to De Soto, the preserver of his life. As we have
seen, he was well aware of the peril to which his benefactor
was hourly exposed from the malignity of the governor.
Gladly therefore he accepted the mission, as he hoped
it would afford him an opportunity of conferring some
favor upon his imperilled friend.
Don Pedro had adopted the most rigorous
measures to prevent any communication between the
colony and Spain, which was not subjected to his inspection.
He was mainly influenced to this course that he might
prevent the interchange of any messages whatever between
De Soto and Isabella. The most severe penalties
were denounced against all persons who should convey
any writing across the seas, excepting through the
regular mails. But the grateful M. Codro declared
himself ready to run all risks in carrying a letter
from De Soto to Isabella. Though De Soto at first
hesitated to expose his friend to such hazard, his
intense desire to open some communication with Isabella,
at length induced him to accept the generous offer.
As we have mentioned, for five years
not one word had passed between the lovers. It
is said that the following is a literal translation
of the letter which De Soto wrote. We cannot
be certain of its authenticity, but it bears internal
evidence of genuineness, and a manuscript copy is
in the library of a Spanish gentleman who has spent
his life in collecting documents in reference to the
past history of his country:
“MOST DEARLY BELOVED
ISABELLA:
“For the first time within five
years, I write to you with some assurance that
you will receive my letter. Many times have
I written before; but how could I write freely when
I had reason to fear that other eyes might peruse
those fond expressions which your goodness and
condescension alone could pardon? But what
reason have I to hope that you can still look
with favorable regard on my unworthiness? My
mature judgment teaches me that this dream of
my youth, which I have so long cherished, is
not presumption merely, but madness.
“When I consider your many perfections,
and compare them with my own little deserving,
I feel that I ought to despair, even if I could
empty into your lap the treasure of a thousand
kingdoms. How then can I lift my eyes to you when
I have nothing to offer but the tribute of an
affection which time cannot change, and which
must still live when my last hope has departed.
“O Isabella! the expectation
which brought me to this land has not been fulfilled.
I can gather no gold, except by such means as
my honor, my conscience and yourself must condemn.
Though your nobleness may pity one on whom fortune
has disdained to smile, I feel that your relations
are justified in claiming for you an alliance
with exalted rank and affluence; and I love you
far too well to regard my own happiness more
than your welfare. If, therefore, in your extreme
youth you have made a promise which you now regret,
as far as it is in my power to absolve you from
that engagement, you are released. On my
side, the obligation is sacred and eternal.
It is not likely that I shall ever return to
my country. While I am banished from your presence,
all countries are alike to me.
“The person who brings you this
exposes himself to great danger in his desire
to serve me. I entreat you to use such precautions
as his safety may require. If your goodness should
vouchsafe any message to me, he will deliver it, and
you may have perfect confidence in his fidelity.
Pardon my boldness in supposing it possible that
I still have a place in your remembrance.
Though you may now think of me with indifference
or dislike, do not censure me too severely for calling
myself unchangeably and devotedly, Yours, DE SOTO.”