FOREIGN RAIDS ON THE SPANISH COLONIES
Had the laws of the Indies been differently framed, there is no doubt
that the hardy sailors and reckless buccaneers who plundered these
coasts would have had no existence, and that South America would have
remained unprovided with much of its grim romance. As it was, Spain, by
her imperious policy of "hands off," had flung a challenge to every
adventurer of the other nations throughout Europe.
During the earliest periods of its colonization the reports from the New
World were naturally somewhat nebulous in character, and the Spanish
authorities themselves saw to it that as little authentic news as
possible should be allowed to filter beyond their own frontiers. This
policy succeeded for a while in restraining the undesired enterprise of
the rival peoples who were, so far as South America was concerned,
groping in the dark. This phase was naturally only fleeting. At the
first evidence of a desire on the part of the other nations to
participate in the benefits accruing from South America, the Spanish
Court thundered forth threats and edicts.
Thus on December 15, 1558, King Philip II. decreed that any foreign
person who should traffic with Spanish America should be punished by
death and confiscation of property. The edict was emphatic and stern,
and contained a clause which deprived the Royal Audiences in Spanish
America of any powers of dispensation in the execution of these
penalties:
"If anyone shall disobey this law, whatever his state or condition,
his life is forfeit, and his goods shall be divided in three parts,
of which one shall go to our Royal Treasure, one to the judge, and
one to the informer."
It is, of course, notorious that the distance which separated the
colonies from the motherland prevented the enforcing of many laws,
whether good or bad, and that the Spanish-American local
expression--"The law is obeyed but not carried out"--was common to
nearly every district. At the same time, the mischief caused by decrees
such as these may readily be imagined. A rich bribe to an informer was
in itself an incentive to the stirring up of mischief where frequently
none was intended. Such official bribes as these, however, were wont to
be more than counteracted by the private inducements held out by many of
the foreign adventurers and traders themselves, and after a while a
great number of the officials found it very much to their profit not
only to wink at the wholesale commerce and smuggling that was being
carried on, but even actively to promote it and to participate in its
benefits.
This method of keeping Spanish America as the close property of the
Crown was one which grew more and more difficult to preserve as time
went on. In the first place the authorities had merely to cope with the
foreign seamen and the fleets of adventurous traders who were
determined, at all costs, to win their share of financial profit from
these golden shores. After a while, with the growing population of the
Continent, a new situation asserted itself, and the influence of the
colonists themselves had to be considered.
[Illustration: SECTIONS OF A SLAVE SHIP.
Typical of the small vessels employed in taking African slaves to South
America. The hundreds of negroes were packed between decks in the
incredible fashion shown in the sectional views.]
In order that the full financial profit, as it was then understood, of
the colonies should continue to be passed on to Spain, it was essential
that the colonists should continue a negligible factor. The permanence
of this state of affairs could only be affected in one way: it was
necessary that no equipment such as would provide independence of
thought or action should be allowed to be at their service. Books, of
course, were considered as one of the most mischievous potential engines
of the kind. The Spaniards determined that none of the learning of their
country should pass into the colonies. A certain number of volumes were
permitted to cross the sea, it is true, but these were of the species
that might be readily understood by a child of a few summers, and were
ridiculously inadequate to the most ordinary intellect of adults in
civilized regions. These themselves were subjected first of all to a
close inspection on the part of the Inquisition in Spain. After this
they had to pass the Board of Censors appointed by the Council of the
Indies. Even here the precautions did not end, for on their arrival in
the colony they were once again inspected as a safeguard, lest any
secular matter or work of fiction should by any chance be overlooked and
suffered to remain.
In short, the policy by which the motherland endeavoured to retain for
her own benefit the riches of her colonies was undoubtedly one of the
most benighted ever conceived by a European nation. It amounted to
nothing less than a consistent checking and deadening of the
intelligence of her sons oversea in order that their atrophied senses
should fail to detect the true manner in which they were being shorn of
their property and privileges.
On the other hand, in conformity with the same theory, superstition was
encouraged to an extraordinary degree. The Royal Seal, when it arrived
from Spain, was greeted as though it were a symbol of Deity, and the
royal audience would chant an oath to obey it as implicitly as though
it were a command of God. Every conceivable care was taken to foster
this frame of mind throughout the colonies, and, since the intellectual
occupations were religiously kept to themselves by the officials, it is
not astonishing to find how far this method succeeded, and for how long
it continued. Thus, even as late as 1809, when a portrait of King
Ferdinand arrived at Coquimbo, the oil-painting was received with the
honours accorded to a symbol of Deity. A special road was made for it
from Coquimbo to La Serena, the capital of the province. This task
occupied many days. Volunteer citizens filled up the holes, made wooden
culverts, and, in fact, acted as enthusiastic road repairers, in order
that the portrait might suffer no discomfort. When it was judged that
the highway was sufficiently repaired, the portrait set out upon its
astonishing journey. It was surrounded by cushions and placed in a
flower-filled carriage. The inhabitants kneeled as the picture passed,
and when it had been placed in the cathedral, salvos of artillery
sounded, and the people shouted in delirious joy. The occasion,
moreover, was marked by a fete which lasted three days.
All this, however, is anticipating by some centuries the period under
review. In the first instance, largely owing to the ignorance concerning
the New World which prevailed in other parts of Europe--which ignorance
had been greatly fostered by Spain--the Spaniards succeeded in retaining
the undisputed possession of their portion of the Continent for nearly
three-quarters of a century. Then came the first of the maritime
swallows, which made many dismal summers for the Court of Spain. In 1565
Drake voyaged to the Guianas on the Spanish Main. He was followed by
Hawkins, Raleigh, and a host of others, including the Dutch navigators.
These hardy seamen, it must be said, had in the first instance proceeded
to the Continent with the idea of engaging in legitimate trade. In
justice to the many desperate acts which the majority subsequently
committed, it must be remembered that in the case of the early
collisions, they only let loose their guns when they found themselves
attacked by the Spanish authorities in the distant ports, or intercepted
on the high seas by the guardian fleets of Spain.
An experience or two of the kind sufficed to rouse the hot blood of the
seamen. Knowing now that they were braving the anger of the King of
Spain, they determined to continue in this undaunted, even, if
necessary, "to synge his bearde," as, indeed, was accomplished on one
notable occasion. So they continued their voyages to these ostensibly
closed coasts of South America and the general run of the territories
known at the time as the West Indies. Frequently they found riches in
the venture, sometimes disaster and death. The former proved an
incentive to these breathless voyages, with which no dread of the latter
fate could interfere.
It would be as well to refer briefly to the careers in South America of
a certain number of the most notable of these early adventurers. One of
the first was Sir John Hawkins, who set out in 1562 with three ships:
the _Salomon_, the _Swallow_, and the _Jonas_. Having touched at
Teneriffe, he then landed at Sierra Leone, "where by the sworde and
other means" he obtained some 300 negroes. He shaped his course to the
west, and sailed with his cargo to the Spanish Indies.
Notwithstanding the stern official prohibitions, Hawkins succeeded in
trading with the residents at Port Isabella, in Hispaniola, and the tall
sides of his vessels, empty now of their dark human freight, soon held
an important cargo of hides, ginger, sugar, and pearls. So successful
was he, indeed, that he added two more ships to his flotilla and sent
them to Spain. This daring procedure was intended as something in the
light of a challenge and of a proof of his good faith in his right to
barter in Spanish South America--a right, he claimed, which was ratified
by an old treaty between Henry VII. and the Archduke Philip of Spain.
The Spanish officials, doubtless open-mouthed at this somewhat subtle
and startling confidence of Hawkins, promptly confiscated the vessels by
way of definitely proving it ill-founded. Notwithstanding this, Hawkins
was more than satisfied with the cargo brought home by his three
original ships, and two years later he set out again, accompanied by the
Earl of Pembroke and the Earl of Leicester, with a larger fleet than
before.
On this occasion he again visited Africa, collected a cargo of slaves,
and endeavoured to trade with the Spaniards, more especially in
Venezuela. This time the expedition found the authorities, warned by
threatening prohibitions from Europe, in a less enterprising mood.
Hawkins, persisting in the attempt, succeeded in bartering a certain
number of slaves for hides, gold, silver, pearls, and other commodities.
After a while the Spanish officers attempted to interfere and to put a
stop altogether to the traffic, on which Hawkins, ever a friend to free
trade, gathered his men together and marched down to the market-place,
incidentally firing off guns, which procedure destroyed the last
scruples of the inhabitants, and an important exchange and barter now
took place. Thus the triumphant Hawkins returned with a second valuable
cargo to England.
In 1567 Hawkins was accompanied on his next voyage by his young cousin,
Francis Drake. The incidents of this voyage strongly resemble those of
the previous ones. Negroes were collected in West Africa, and were
disposed of in Spanish America, notwithstanding the protest, whether
genuine or simulated, of the officials. The ending of the voyage,
however, was destined to introduce a tragic note. On the way home the
small English expedition fell in at the Port San Juan de Ulloa with a
great Spanish fleet. In the first instance the mutual overtures were
friendly, and hostages were exchanged on both sides. In the end,
however, the English force was, without warning, attacked by the
Spaniards as they lay at anchor. The majority of the men who had gone on
shore were slain, and those who remained on the ships were assailed by
overwhelming numbers. After a strenuous tussle with the Spaniards, Drake
in the _Judith_, followed some time afterwards by Hawkins in the
_Minion_, got away. The condition of Hawkins's crew, unprepared as was
this ship for the voyage, was pitiful. A lengthy spell of contrary winds
served to accentuate the terrible dearth of provisions which prevailed.
The following is a contemporary account of some of the incidents. The
vessel had wandered about the ocean
"tyll hunger inforced us to seek the lands for birdes were thought
very good meate, rattes, cattes, mise and dogges, none escaped that
might be gotten, parrates and monkayes that we had in great prise
were thought then very profitable if they served the tourne one
dinner."
The return home in this instance was truly a sorry one, for the
survivors had left not only gold behind them, but the corpses of so many
brave comrades.
On the whole, the exploits of Hawkins were considerably overshadowed by
those of his young relative, Sir Francis Drake, who had begun to
adventure on his own account in 1570, and who haunted the Spanish
Indies, determined to avenge the treatment he and his comrades had
received at San Juan de Ulloa. He ransacked Nombre de Dios and
Cartagena, explored the Gulf of Darien, made friends with the Indians
who inhabited the place, and captured many Spanish merchantmen,
repulsing the attacks of the Spanish men-of-war.
Drake now crossed the Isthmus of Panama, and--the first foreigner to
accomplish the feat--set eyes on the Pacific Ocean, in which he swore to
cruise before he had finished his career. Here, moreover, having failed
to capture one royal treasure convoy, his good fortune led him to meet
with a second, and the gold and silver borne by the laden mules became
the property of himself and his men.
Drake started out on his next voyage in 1577, and fulfilled his purpose
of breasting the waters of the Pacific; for, after various adventures on
the east coast of the Continent, he sailed through the Straits of
Magellan, and found himself in the ocean that, until then, had been
traversed by Spanish vessels alone. His arrival came as a bolt from the
blue to the Spaniards, who had not dreamed of the possibility of the
invasion of the Pacific, the waters of which they had grown to consider
as sacred to themselves. The alarm spread like wild-fire along the whole
length of that great coast. All the while Drake cruised up and down,
capturing and destroying wherever he might. Indeed, of all the
adventurers of this period, Drake was the one whose name conveyed the
greatest terror to the Spanish colonists. This was evident in all parts
of the Continent. Thus the impetuosity of his attacks and incursions in
the neighbourhood of the Guianas and Venezuela was sufficient utterly to
startle and dismay the unfortunate Spaniards.
[Illustration: THE STRAITS OF MAGELLAN.]
The taking of Caracas in 1595 showed him as not only an able leader,
but as an extraordinarily gifted tactician. It was in the course of this
attack, by the way, that the fine old hidalgo, Alonso Andrea de Ledesma,
mounted his horse, and, shield on arm, lance in rest, charged full tilt
single handed against the English force, who would have spared him had
he permitted it. But his onslaught was too impetuous for that. All the
invaders could do for the gallant old knight was to give him an
honourable and reverent burial.
After a while, Queen Elizabeth herself now lending open support to the
adventurers, Drake's expeditions became more and more daring, and, until
he died of fever at Porto Bello, his personality was one which gave
sleepless nights from time to time to responsible persons on the coasts
of the great Continent.
The name of Raleigh, "poet, statesman, courtier, schemer, patriot,
soldier, freebooter, discoverer, colonist, castle-builder, historian,
philosopher, chemist, prisoner, and visionary," is, of course, from the
romantic point of view, principally associated with El Dorado, and his
quest of the magic and imaginary land of gold. It was for this reason
that Raleigh's dealings with the Spaniards in South America were more
circumscribed than those of many of his colleagues. Led to the belief,
both by his own fanciful convictions and by the legends brought him by
the Indians, he had conceived El Dorado as situated somewhere in the
Guianas, and thus his operations were chiefly confined to this part of
the world and to the neighbourhood of the Orinoco River.
Raleigh's quest, on paper, certainly sounds one of the most fascinating
and entrancing of those undertaken in the great Continent. That which
the average reader hears of less are the fevers, noxious insects, heat,
and the general climatic hardships and perils involved in one of the
most tropical of all countries, to say nothing of the brushes with the
Spaniards; for Raleigh, courtier, poet, and philosopher though he was,
was no more gentle in his dealing with his enemies than any other
freebooter of his period.
[Illustration: OLINDA DE PERNAMBUCO, NOW PERNAMBUCO.
Attacked by Dutch war vessels.]
In the end Raleigh returned from the Orinoco laden with no gold, but
with heavy tales of the countless booty which he had failed to obtain,
and in the existence of which he implicitly believed, as his spirited
defence against the charges of his disappointed critics and would-be
profit-sharers proves.
Once again, after many years, and after he had endured many wrongs,
hardships, and imprisonment in England, Raleigh succeeded in 1617 in
making his way to Guiana. His health had now become shattered, and he
found himself unable to explore the Orinoco River in person, with the
result that the absence of his powerful and charming personality, which
had effected so much in these regions in the past, was much felt, to the
disadvantage of the expedition. A portion of his forces made its way
inland; but it was attacked by the Spaniards, and young Walter Raleigh,
the only son of the explorer, was slain. On this occasion the party
actually discovered four gold refineries. Spain, however, had increased
the strength of her position in this neighbourhood enormously, and the
expedition failed.
Raleigh, broken-hearted at the death of his son, returned to England. He
had procured no gold; all that he had won for himself was the enmity of
Spain, which, in the end, through the instrumentality of King James I.,
cost him his head. So much for some of the most important of the early
English adventurers in the seas which the Spaniards claimed as their
own.
To refer to the whole company of notable buccaneers in detail is
impossible, although so many others, from Cavendish to Sharpe, Davis,
Knight, and the rest, are worthy of note. There were, moreover, the
Dutch freebooters, such as Van Noorte, de Werte, Spilsbergen, and
others, as Jaques l'Ermite, Francois l'Ollonais, and Bartolomew
Portugues, who ransacked and burned every town which failed to resist
their fierce onslaughts, from the Gulf of Darien in the north all round
the coast to the Pacific Ocean on the west.