When the night came, the Adelantado sent for the Chief Pilot, and made him sit by his bedside, where he was lying ill. With very great caution, he told him that he intended to go on sh.o.r.e the next morning with four men in whom he had most confidence, all armed, and that he would be accompanied by the royal standard, and would proclaim the will of the King at the proper time; for that he had to go and to do justice on the Camp Master, for reasons which moved him so to act.

That night the Chief Pilot caused the usual careful watch to be kept, and at dawn they asked for the boat from the camp, with loud voices. On hearing them, Dona Isabel came from her bed, saying: "Alas! alas! they have killed my brothers, and they ask for the boat to come and kill us." The Adelantado would not listen, and as soon as it was day a squadron of thirty soldiers came out of the camp. The Adelantado ordered them to be told not to go on before he had spoken to them. Embarking with his people, he asked who was their leader, who had sent them, and where they were going. The Lieutenant answered that he was the leader, and that they were ordered by the Camp Master to go to the village of Malope and seek for food. The Adelantado warned them not to kill Malope, nor to do him any harm, nor take any of his property, as he was our friend, and that they should take him with them. He knew quite well that they came for food, and, turning to the Chief Pilot, the Adelantado told him to relate to the soldiers all that had pa.s.sed with Malope the day before. They heard it laughing.

The Adelantado had with him the Captain of the galeot, who carried a great wood-knife. [57] On the sh.o.r.e the Captain, Don Lorenzo, his brothers, and a few sailors, were waiting. Having landed, the Adelantado joined those who were on the sh.o.r.e, and went to the fort which the Camp Master was constructing in great haste. Before arriving, there were not wanting those who asked what was it they were wanted to do there, and one was cleaning his arquebus. The General arrived at the camp when the Camp Master was having his breakfast. He came out just as he was, without coat or hat, to receive the General, and when he found himself among so many who were not his friends, he called for staff, dagger and sword.

Those who had to do the deed were arriving. The Adelantado raised his eyes to heaven, and, giving a sigh, put his hand to his sword, saying: "Long live the King! Death to traitors!" Upon this, without any delay, one Juan Antonio de la Roca took the Camp Master by the collar, and gave him two stabs, one in the mouth and the other on the breast. Then a Sergeant, with a Bohemian knife, gave him another in the side. The Camp Master cried: "Oh, gentlemen!" He turned to get his sword, but the Captain, with his wood-knife, nearly cut off his right arm. He fell, saying: "Oh, leave me time to confess." One answered that "there was no time. You can well feel contrition." The wretched man was palpitating, stretched on the ground, and crying, "Jesus Maria!" A good woman came up, and helped him to die in peace. One with a kind heart did no more than draw out the sword, and the woman gave it up. So the body was left, and the Adelantado approved the slaughter.

This being done, it was presently ordered to be proclaimed that the Camp Master was dead, and that all the rest were pardoned in the name of his Majesty. The Camp Master having expired, the drummer, coveting his clothes, left him naked.

The Camp Master was very zealous, a hard worker and good soldier, and in all enterprises he was the first. He appeared to be about sixty years of age, for his hair was quite white, and, though old, he was vigorous, but very impetuous. He knew how to think much, but he could not be silent, and I believe that for no other thing he was killed.

At this time Don Luis and the Chief Pilot were talking near the tent of two friends of the Camp Master, and Don Luis seized one of them and stabbed him. The soldier cried out: "For me? For me? What have I done?" Don Luis left the dagger, and drew his sword; but the Chief Pilot defended the man, saying: "What is this, that without more ado men are to be killed thus?" A soldier came out of another tent with his sword drawn, and said: "What is this? Like the Camp Master?" Don Luis attacked him, and many others coming up, the soldier retreated inside, saying: "What have I done? What have I done?" Then the Captain, Don Lorenzo, came, and they killed the soldier by some houses where he had fallen. The drummer stripped them, and soldiers were stationed to guard the goods of both.

Don Lorenzo and his brother came with a party of soldiers, but they found the Chief Pilot at the door, who opposed their advance, saying he would report them. Don Lorenzo told him to leave the door, crying "Death to these traitors!" The Chief Pilot said that they were friends. "Kill them! kill them!" they replied, "they deserve it more than the others." The Chief Pilot urged that they should mind what they were doing. Don Lorenzo answered that only St. Peter, if he was there, could induce them to spare the lives of such people. At the cries and noise of arms, the women came out, alarmed and agitated. Some prayed for their husbands; others wrung their hands and lamented. The men were like lunatics, going about with their eyes seeking those they would kill, shouting, with drawn swords: "Long live the King! Death to traitors!" It seemed that this was a day for avenging injuries; but to me it seemed a day of licence to lads who might go any length.

After the disturbances the Sergeant-Major came out of his tent, and that he might be able to say that he had also fleshed his sword, he gave a page of the Camp Master a cut on the head, and another to one of his servants. He also tried to wound a black man who had served the Camp Master, but he saved himself by his feet. The two who were wounded went to seek protection from the General, who ordered the Sergeant-Major to leave the boys alone.

One came out who was suspected; another, who cried for the King, would have killed him if the Chief Pilot had not protected him. The cry was that traitors came out with their arms; this one should have a rope; dead and alive all need to have honour. They came out, they said, to accompany the royal standard which Don Diego Barreto hoisted, and cried out for the King, to which all answered, "Death to traitors!"

The Captain of the wood-knife took the two heads which the General had ordered to be put into nets, and each one was set on a pole near the corps de garde. [58] At this time the boat came from the ship in a great hurry, with the Vicar holding a lance in his hand, and the sailors under arms, crying out, "Long live the King! Death to traitors!" Coming to where they found the Adelantado, they said: "We have all come to serve his Majesty and to die with your Lordship,"

and they rallied round the royal standard. One of them asked the General whether it was done, and when he replied in the affirmative, the man said it was well done. On seeing the two heads he exclaimed: "A wall has henceforward fallen from before me."

At this time Dona Isabel and her sister came from the ship, for the Captain with the wood-knife had been on board to announce the victory to them, and to boast of having given a good stab to the Camp Master, and of having cut off the two heads. He said: "Now you are mistress and marchioness, and I am Captain, for the Camp Master is dead. I say that it is terrible to fear wicked men with licence." When Dona Isabel landed, she went to the corps de garde.

At this juncture a soldier came out of the camp, with plumes in his hat, dissimulating, and asking carelessly what was the matter, pretending that he did not know. This was the man who raised all the questions, and to whom all turned their eyes. He was allowed to be free, because the persons were few with whom he had treated. Many were frightened, and they had themselves given the occasion for the insecurity. Some commended themselves to their friends who had really been true, and they freed them. The Adelantado ordered that all should go to the church to hear Ma.s.s, which the Vicar said. When he had finished he turned his face to the people, and told them not to be scandalised at the deaths, for it was ordained. He recommended them to be quiet and obedient to the General, reminding them that by that way there was safety. They returned from the Ma.s.s in the same way they had come, with the standard, to the corps de garde. The baggage of the dead men was opened, and their enemies made a division of it. The Adelantado ordered the bodies to be buried, with which this first tragedy ended. All were dismissed to a.s.semble again in the afternoon, with the consequence that will be described in the next chapter.

CHAPTER XIX.

How the soldiers killed Malope; of the arrests that were made in consequence of the murder, with the deaths of an Ensign and of a murderer of Malope.

In the afternoon all a.s.sembled at the corps de garde, and the Adelantado ordered the heads to be taken down and the standard to be concealed; when one arrived who had gone with the soldiers in the morning, and reported to the Adelantado. He said that when the soldiers came to the house of Malope, he had regaled them and given them what he had. The innocent man felt secure, when a soldier raised his arquebus, pointed it at him, and fired. He fell to the ground palpitating, when a certain person, to put him out of his pain, came to him with a hatchet and cleft his skull, saying we had never done a better thing. In this way they most unjustly killed Malope, returning so much evil for so much good. It was the work rather of a devil than of a man. He had kept the country at peace, and had given us food. He was the means of inducing others to give, and his kindness had been very great. They excused themselves by saying that Malope had intended to commit treason. This seems to have been an invention to give colour to the outrage they had committed. They gave up the murderer, and he said, ordering his arms: "He is well dead. Is there any one who wants to seek my death?" The Adelantado felt it much, and so did every one, not only the deed itself, but the trouble it would lead to. The murderer was brought in a canoe, with his hands tied behind him, and the Adelantado ordered both feet to be put in the stocks.

Most of the soldiers came marching along the sh.o.r.e. The Adelantado ordered those who were with him to conceal themselves in the corps de garde, and as they entered, coming four and four, to seize them. The Lieutenant of the Sergeant-Major entered, and four with him, who were seized and put in irons. They looked about in all directions, and, seeing the page of the Camp Master, they asked him with their eyes about his master. The boy took hold of his throat with one hand, meaning that his master was dead. The prisoners showed their sorrow. A nephew of the Camp Master then came in, whom the General honoured much, saying he knew what a good servant of the King he was; and the same with Don Toribio de Bedeterra.

Presently the Ensign came with the rest of the soldiers, and Don Lorenzo disarmed him, and delivered him to four arquebusiers with irons, to be taken to a corps de garde at some distance. The wife of the prisoner went crying among the houses and branches, well aware of the danger of her husband, for she was weeping before he came.

Don Lorenzo went to call the Chaplain, and the good father, as one seeing a turbulent river, did not dare to pa.s.s it. He said: "Sir Captain, what is it that you want with me? Remember that I am a priest. Oh, for the sake of the one G.o.d, do not kill me!" "Come with me," said Don Lorenzo, "just for a little." "Here! here!" said the priest; "I cannot go any further." It was explained to him that it was to confess the Ensign, and he was rea.s.sured. He presently was taken behind a tree, where the prisoner was. He began to persuade him to confess, as they were going to kill him. The prisoner said: "I to die? wherefore?" The priest undeceived him. Those who were present relate that the Ensign then said: "Let it be then as G.o.d wills;" and he knelt down at the feet of the confessor, whose duty it was and who performed his office. A black servant of the General had orders, and, with a knife, gave him a blow and then another, by which his head was cut off, and put with the other two. The body was covered with some branches, and soon afterwards thrown into the sea, at which his wife wept bitterly.

The Ensign being finished with, the Captain, Don Lorenzo, in the hearing of the General, asked who should be taken out of the stocks next. He ordered that it should be the Lieutenant of the Sergeant-Major, but all entreated the Adelantado to spare his life, which he did, taking him in his hands and receiving the oath. He then retired, that he might not be asked by the next one who was ordered to be taken out of the stocks, for the Sergeant-Major had him by one arm, the Chief Pilot taking the other; but the prisoner, shaking them off, exclaimed: "Here I am. If I deserve it, cut off my head." Dona Isabel and all the others entreated the Adelantado to spare his life. He made him take the same oath as the other, and pardoned him. Rising up, the prisoner cast his eyes on the head of the Camp Master. With his hands over his face and weeping, he said, in a voice so that we could all hear: "Ah, thou honoured old man! and have you come to this at the end of so many years of service to the King? This is the reward they have given you! a vile death, and your head and grey hairs stuck on a pole." There was a soldier by his side, who said: "I cannot but mourn for the sad fate of the Camp Master, whom we looked upon as a father." The Adelantado heard them, and ordered them to be silent. They said that he should give thanks for having been delivered from the dangers in which he was, and that he should be grateful to his sponsors for the good intercession they made. He gave thanks to all, and embraced his companion with many tears.

While this was pa.s.sing, the murderer of Malope called to the Chief Pilot, and told him of his condition. In the name of G.o.d, he entreated the Pilot to be a good intercessor for him in his need, and for a second time he asked him to pray to the Adelantado to pardon his crime. He might be sure how well he would serve hereafter, and he wanted to marry Pancha, the Adelantado's servant (this was a native girl of Peru, of bad character, carachanta, [59] and the rest), whom the Adelantado had in his service. The Chief Pilot rea.s.sured him, saying that he might be certain that, without doing what he had pointed out, he would be a good mediator, as he would presently see. The Adelantado came to take him out of the stocks with his own hands, that he might be judged. The Chief Pilot prayed that his life might be spared, but the Adelantado said, almost in a rage: "How am I to pay for the death of my friend Malope but with the death of this man?" The Chief Pilot replied that he might show the heads of the two who were executed to the natives, and make them think that they were punished for the death of Malope; adding, that he must remember we are few, and that the position of affairs made pardon advisable. The Adelantado answered that he would consider that, and would keep him a prisoner. The Chief Pilot gave thanks for the mercy, and the prisoner was taken out of the stocks and sent on board the ship in charge of four men.

This man did not care to eat, and drank salt water, turning his head to the wall with shame because some said to him: "Why did you kill that good native without cause?" Others told him he deserved to be quartered for having committed such a crime. At last it seemed to him that it would be better to die than to live. He left off caring for himself, and died very suddenly after a few days, having first received the holy sacrament, a privilege not enjoyed by the others. With this ended the tragedy of the islands where Solomon was wanting.

CHAPTER XX.

Of the great mourning for Malope among the natives. The great sickness that prevailed in the camp; with the deaths of the Adelantado and the Chaplain, and the victories gained by the natives.

Next morning, great cries of sorrow were heard in the village and house of Malope, raised by a large a.s.sembly of people. The Adelantado ordered that a party should presently go with the head of the Ensign, and give it to the natives, telling them that, as the best thing that could be done, this other life had been taken for the death of Malope. But when the natives saw the boat coming to their village, leaving their mournings, they all fled into the woods. Those in the boat called to them to come back, holding up the head; but it was no use, they all hid themselves. Seeing this, the head was left at the door of the house, and the boat returned. At the pet.i.tion of the Vicar, the Adelantado ordered the other two heads to be taken down from the poles, that they might be buried. The burial was neglected; and, as they were left that night on the beach, they were found next morning with all the flesh and skin gone, for the dogs had eaten them.

All this time the Adelantado became each day more unwell. He ordered a house to be built for him in great haste, in which, having landed with his family, he established himself.

Now the punishment came down from Heaven which we deserved for our treacheries, disorders, and cruelties, in the shape of sickness without the means of curing it.

The Captain, Don Lorenzo, in whose charge all things were now placed by land and sea, early one morning sent twenty soldiers and an officer in the boat to seize some boys, with the object of teaching them our language, as we could not understand theirs. The natives, who carefully concealed themselves, defended the landing with such vigour that before our men could get back the officer and seven men were wounded with arrows. Enjoying the occasion, they followed up the repulse with many shots of arrows and stones, and with great shouts. They came so near the camp that Don Lorenzo had to issue forth with the banner displayed, and all the rest of the men who were not sick, to defend the gate. As the natives retired, they fired a volley of arrows which went home, wounding six men and Don Lorenzo himself, who were brought in and attended to. Upon this, Don Lorenzo sent a soldier in charge of a party, to burn canoes and houses, and to do as much damage as possible, the result being eight wounded soldiers. With these three victories, all gained on the same day, the natives became so audacious that they shot arrows into the camp at night, and threw stones with such effect that they wounded two men, one of them dying. Owing to the sickness of the Adelantado, and the number of wounded soldiers, we could only defend and secure the camp, the attempts of our soldiers being confined to getting "bledos," which sometimes cost them dear.

On the Vigil of St. Luke the Evangelist, the first of our companions died, the Chaplain, Antonio de Serpa, for whose decease the Vicar mourned deeply, and raised sad lamentation, turning up his eyes to heaven, and saying: "Oh, my G.o.d! how great is the punishment that You send for my sins. You leave me, O Lord, without a priest to whom to confess. O, Father Antonio de Serpa! Happy are you to have died after having received the sacrament. Who would not change places with you, and not remain in mine, in which I am so abandoned, for I can confess all who are here, but have no one to confess me." He went about with his face hidden, and would not be consoled He went to the church, and wept at the altar. The good Vicar said that, in mourning for the dead, he opened the tomb where he was buried.

On the following night, which was the 17th of October, there was a total eclipse of the moon; when it rose in the east it was completely eclipsed. The Adelantado was so weak that he gave orders about his will, which he could scarcely sign. He left Dona Isabel Barreto, his wife, as general heir, and nominated her as Governess, for his Majesty had issued a special decree giving him power to name any person he chose for his successor. He nominated his brother-in-law, Don Lorenzo, to be Captain-General; and, ordering the Vicar to be called, he complied with all the obligations required for his soul.

In this way the night pa.s.sed, and the day arrived, which was that of St. Luke. Seeing the end so near, the Vicar said that a person of good life knew how much it imported to die well, so that there might be time to make his peace with G.o.d. He said other things alike holy and pious, which the Adelantado heard, showing not only attention but great contrition, and making it to be well understood how submissive he was to the will of G.o.d who created him. The Vicar had a crucifix brought, in whose presence the Adelantado seemed to bend the knees in his heart. Helping to say the Miserere mei and the Creed, at one o'clock after noon our Adelantado pa.s.sed from this life, with which there ended his enterprise, so much and for so long a time desired. He was a person zealous for the honour of G.o.d and the service of the King, to whom the things ill done did not appear good, nor did those well done appear evil. He was very plain-spoken, not diffuse in giving his reasons, and he himself said that he did not want arguments but deeds. It seemed that he saw clearly those matters which touched his conscience. It seemed to me that he might say with reason that he knew more than he performed, yet he saw nothing that pa.s.sed by stealth. The Governess felt his death, as did others, though some rejoiced at it.

In the afternoon, with as much pomp as the circ.u.mstances would admit, we prepared for his sepulture. The body was placed in a coffin covered with black cloth, and carried on the shoulders of eight persons of the highest rank. The soldiers stood with their arquebuses reversed, in accordance with usage at the funerals of Generals. The procession went with two banners displayed, and from two drums covered with mourning cloth came slow and m.u.f.fled sounds, while the fife expressed the like sentiments. Arrived at the church, the Vicar performed the service, and we then returned to the Governess to condole with her on her misfortune.

CHAPTER XXI.

How the Vicar delivered some admonitions to the soldiers, and the examples he gave.

After the two deaths already described, the Vicar reflected how serious the sickness was, and that one, two, or three died every day, and began to perambulate the camp, crying with a loud voice: "Is there one who wants to confess? Put yourselves well with G.o.d, and attend to the welfare of your souls, for a punishment has come upon us, from which none can escape, how numerous soever we may be. The natives will triumph over us, and will remain, enjoying our clothes and arms and all we possess in this place, where G.o.d holds us prisoners, to chastise us according to our deserts. Think that if G.o.d punishes a whole kingdom for one sin, how will He punish here where they are so many. There are men here who have not confessed for three, five, seven, nine, fourteen and thirty years, and one who has only confessed once in his life. There are men here who have caused the deaths of two and three other men; there is a man who does not know whether he is a Moor or a Christian; others have committed sins so foul and so serious that, being such, I will not name them. Remember how G.o.d conferred with David, and told him out of three punishments to choose one. We have among us sickness, war, famine and discord, and we are far from any remedy. Reflect that we have G.o.d incensed against us, and that the naked and b.l.o.o.d.y sword of His justice, with which He goes forth to kill, is ready to put an end to us. Fully justified is His judgment. The punishment is not so great nor so rigorous as we deserve. Confess yourselves! clean your souls, and with the repentance, appease the anger of G.o.d, Who wishes not the death of a sinner, but rather that he should turn from his wickedness and live. Open your eyes, and see what a terrible chastis.e.m.e.nt is this."

The good priest went about day after day performing his office, giving the sacrament to the sick, burying the dead, and seeking the means of inducing those who did not wish to confess to yield. At other times, with the same anxious spirit, he said that the mercy of Christ was much greater than our sins, how ugly and heinous soever they might be; and that one single drop of the blood which was shed in the Pa.s.sion was sufficient for the sins of infinite worlds. None of those who were there, be their sins what they may, should lose hope; rather, with the faith and constancy of Christians, they should put their trust in G.o.d, Who knows how to pardon sinners. In order further to console and encourage them all by examples, he told the two following anecdotes:--

In a town in Peru there was a Franciscan friar in his convent, of pure life, at whose feet a soldier, who was his neighbour and known to him, knelt down to confess; and as he knelt, he put his eyes on a crucifix, and said in his heart: "O Lord, have mercy on this soul!" On the instant, the image came down from the cross, came half the distance, and said: "Doubt not! confess and be absolved. It was for thee, and other sinners like thee, that I came to the world."

The other story was that, in the Indies, there was a man rich in goods, but poor in virtue, who sinned, and had old and well-grown roots in many vices. He was a man who sometimes came to the camp with dagger and lance, closed teeth, and eyes raised to heaven, saying: "O G.o.d! come down here, to this place, and come with me to see who is the bravest;" and he said other things, showing as little fear or reverence for G.o.d as this. This man, being out one night, and pa.s.sing a room of his, praying with some beads, heard a voice which said: "Oh! such an one, wherefore do you not recite with devotion on that rosary?" Astonished and full of fear, he struck a light, and looked into the room, but saw no one. Continuing to search, he found an image of Our Lady, painted on paper. Raising it from the ground, he put it on the wall, and, kneeling down, he held it with one hand, while he recited on his rosary. While thus employed, two negroes came to him, put out the light, stripped him naked, and flogged him until he was nearly dead. At this juncture he saw the room brilliantly lighted, and a voice said: "Go! go! and leave this soul which is not thine, for My Son has granted it to Me through His mercy and My prayers." In a moment, the negroes left him, and the light disappeared. The patient went away as well as he could, and laid down on his bed. He sent for a friar, who asked what had happened that he should send for him in the middle of the night. He related what had happened, showed him the wounds and bruises, and begged urgently to be confessed, saying that it was thirty-eight years since he had confessed. The confessor heard and consoled him, saying that much worse sins were pardoned by G.o.d with a free hand. His confession lasted for seventeen days, and he was absolved with a small penance. A fever came upon him, and wasted him so, that on the day when he finished his confession he died like a saint.

With these stories, and in many other ways, as Christian as these, the Vicar secured the salvation of the souls which could be brought into the right way; and the better to fulfil the duties of his office, he came on sh.o.r.e to live in the house of one of the men who had died.