given him by the friendly Narragansett Indians, the Frenchmen decided
to continue their journey northward. So, leaving Newport behind them,
the _Dauphine_ was steered along the coast. The vessel passed around
south of Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket, and, steering well clear of
Cape Cod, lazed along the rocky shore of Massachusetts near Cape Ann.
Occasionally the explorers landed in their boat, finding dense woods
of pines and hemlocks. The natives seemed to be quite different, also,
from those farther south, for, while the southerners had been gentle
in their behavior, these were more barbarous and rough. They were
dressed in the skins of bears, wolves, and foxes, and, although the
Frenchmen endeavored to hold conversation with them, this was found to
be impossible, as they would run into the forest whenever the white men
approached.
Finally, somewhere between Cape Ann and Nahant—probably where the
Myopia Hunt Club now rests in peaceful seclusion—twenty-five of the
explorers went inland for two or three miles, seeing many natives,
who would not be friendly, and, when they returned to the shore, the
primitive sons of Massachusetts shot at the interlopers with their bows
and arrows, shouting loudly as they did so. Many of the redskins had
copper rings in their ears. The forests were very dense hereabouts, and
the savages hid themselves whenever the white men turned to fight.
Not pleased with their reception, the navigators coasted northward,
passed the rocky promontory of Cape Ann, the wind-ripped Isles of
Shoals, and finally reached Portland Harbor. They were charmed with
the magnificent scenery, and, coasting along the hemlock-clad shores,
passed thirty-two islands, all lying near the rocky beach, which
impressed the voyagers greatly with their beauty. But alas! provisions
now began to fail, and it was time to hark back to France.
All the crew were well and happy, for they had had a wonderful trip
along the coastline of America, then unspoiled by the erection of
houses, towns, and villages.
On board was an Indian boy, whom they had kidnaped, and he, too,
seemed to be well and contented. When off the Jersey coast, Verrazano
had landed and had journeyed about two miles into the interior, with
about twenty of the crew. The natives had fled to the forest; but
two,—a young girl and an old woman, less fortunate than the rest,—had
been overtaken by the Europeans. The Frenchmen seized the girl, and
also a boy of about eight years of age, who had been hanging on the
back of the old woman. Then, they began to retrace their steps to the
sea.
As they proceeded, the girl made a vigorous resistance, and set up
violent cries of rage and terror. She clawed with her nails, struck
with her hands, and struggled to free herself. At last, wearied with
the attempt to transport this virago, the Frenchmen let her go, keeping
the boy as a less troublesome, though less valued prize. The girl
bounded away into the forest like a deer, and was soon lost in the
shadows of the trees.
The _Dauphine_ was now somewhere near the mouth of the beautiful
Penobscot River, in Maine. It was the end of June and the breath from
the hemlock forests along the shore was filled with the scent of the
balsam bough. Verrazano would have lingered longer in this lovely
country, but the object of the voyage had now been accomplished;
over seven hundred leagues of the new world had been explored, and
the French corsair had held sufficient communication with the native
redskins to form some idea of their state and character.
The bow of the _Dauphine_ was therefore turned towards France; she
made a safe passage, propelled by favorable winds, and, in the month
of July, 1524, about five and a half months after her departure,
Verrazano, the corsair, landed at Dieppe. The Indian boy was well, and
he was taken ashore: but what happened to him afterwards is not known.
The adventurous explorer now wrote a letter to the King of France
telling of the land which he had discovered and of the Indians and wild
beasts which he had seen. To Francis the First, the French Monarch,
he offered a vast province in the temperate latitude, on which France
might well have expended her enterprise, and which would have repaid
her efforts a thousand fold. But, alas! France was then in dreadful
straits, for she was near annihilation from her recent struggles with
Germany. The King was a prisoner in the hands of the Emperor; his army
had been dispersed; his treasury was exhausted.
Thus the vast and fruitful land of America was left to the English and
the Dutch to explore, to colonize, and to subdue. Could the rough, old
corsair have seen in dreams the beach of Atlantic City, four centuries
later, with its board walk, its towering hotels, its thousands of
bathers, and its wheeled chairs, he would have, indeed, been surprised,
for the old fellow was the first European who had seen the surf on the
shelving sands of New Jersey.
FRANCISCO PIZARRO:
CONQUEROR OF PERU.
(1475-1538)
_An eagle soared o’er the heights of Quito,_
_Its talons were hard, and it screamed as it flew;_
_For, far down below, in gleaming chain mail,_
_Was a Spanish corsair with his murderous crew._
_The Spaniard looked upward. “Ah, brother,” said he,_
_“Are there doves here below? If it’s so, I am here_
_To plunder such weaklings, despoil them of home,_
_To pillage and burn without shedding a tear.”_
_The eagle said, “Yes; you, I see, are my mate,_
_For I am a harpy; bring ruin in my path._
_Let’s form an alliance, and kill all we can,_
_What matter to us if we stir up fierce wrath!”_
_So the Spaniard and eagle swept o’er poor Peru;_
_Each sought out the doves, e’en at the church portal._
_’Midst fire and pillage, ’midst carnage and death,_
_Both carved a career,—the Spaniard’s immortal._
FRANCISCO PIZARRO:
CONQUEROR OF PERU.
(1475-1538)
THERE was a Spaniard once, who lived in Panama and who had the high
sounding name of Vasco Nuñez de Balboa.
Like all of the adventurers in the early days, he was ever on the
lookout for gold. Do you wonder, therefore, that his brown eyes
glittered and gleamed when an Indian chief came to him and said:
“If this yellow gold is what you prize so greatly that you are willing
to leave your home and risk even life itself, for it, then I can tell
you of a land where they eat and drink out of golden vessels, and gold
is as common with the natives as iron is with you.”
It is unnecessary to add that the keen Balboa eagerly inquired where
this place was to be found. And the Indian, sweeping his hand toward
the South, said: “It is there,—Peru, the land of the Incas!”
The Spaniard did not forget what the native had said, and he told it
to some of his friends, among whom was a young adventurer by the name
of Francisco Pizarro, who had been sent to Panama to traffic with the
natives for pearls. This fellow, who was a distant kinsman of Hernando
Cortés, conqueror of Mexico, was a true adventurer; but he was the
least educated of all the Spaniards who have made names for themselves
in the New World. He had, indeed, been employed as a swine-herd near
the city of Truxillo, in Spain, where he had been born. He could
neither read nor write with any fluency. From childhood he had been
neglected and had been left to make a living as best he might.
We know that he sailed away from Seville, in Spain, when quite a
young man, and that he embarked, with other adventurers, to find his
fortune in the New World. We hear of him in Hispaniola, and, later on,
know that he was employed by Balboa in several enterprises. He seems
to have been ever on the lookout for adventure and anxious to mend
his fortunes, which were so low, indeed, that, when he heard of this
land of gold, he had not the means to fit out a ship in order to sail
thither and find out whether or not what the native had said was true.
Still, the matter rankled in his mind, so that he, at length, found a
way to go where was wealth, fame, and fortune.
There were two people in eastern Panama who knew young Pizarro, and who
decided that, perhaps, there was some truth in what the Indian had said
about the land of the Incas.
“I wish to go there,” said the Spaniard. “If you will assist and aid
me, we may be all wealthy together.”
“That sounds well,” answered Hernando de Luque, one of these friends,
“and I believe that I will give you the necessary funds, so that you
may fit out a ship.”
The other friend, named Diego Almagro, was also a badly educated
individual, but he was one who eagerly listened to tales of adventure.
A compact was thus made between these three, most of the money being
supplied by De Luque, Almagro undertaking the equipment of the ship,
and Pizarro taking command of the expedition. It was difficult to get
men to join in such a venture, but eventually about a hundred were
obtained, mostly idlers in the colony who eagerly grasped at anything
that would mend their broken fortunes. They were a rough lot.
Everything was finally ready for the journey to that fabled land of
Peru, so Pizarro set sail with his following of ne’er-do-wells in a
large ship, some time during the month of November, 1524. Almagro
followed in a second vessel, with the rest of the Panama ruffians, and
thus began a movement which was to bring a rich and populous region
beneath the banner of Castile.
Pizarro and his friends embarked at a most unfavorable time of the
year, for it was the rainy season, and the coast was swept by violent
tempests. They had no knowledge of this fact and consequently kept on
until they reached the Puerto de Piñas, or Port of Pines, a headland
upon the other side of which was a little river. The ship was brought
to anchor and the crew landed in order to explore the country, but the
Spanish adventurers found only thick, impenetrable forests, and deep
swamplands which were filled with quagmire and with fever. So they
returned to the ship, exhausted; hoisted sail, and proceeded again upon
their voyage to the southland. They met with a succession of fearful
storms which buffeted their vessel so severely that she began to leak.
Their stock of food and water became nearly spent, and the members
of the expedition had to subsist upon two ears of Indian corn a day.
In this dreadful condition they were only too glad to turn back, and
anchor, again, a few leagues from the place where they had first hauled
down their sails.
The Spaniards were now in a desperate state of mind, for the food
supply was about gone, and, upon the shore, all that they could
discover were a few unwholesome berries. So the ship was sent back to
Panama in order to lay in a fresh stock of provisions, while Pizarro,
himself, with about half of his company, made a further attempt to
explore the country. The climate was hot and enervating, so that more
than twenty men died of fever, but the energetic Pizarro kept on, and
at last succeeded in reaching a clearing where stood a small Indian
village.
To the half-starved Spaniards this was a godsend, indeed, and, rushing
forward, they broke into the rude huts and seized what food was there
to be found; which they devoured ravenously. The natives dispersed into
the woods, but, seeing that the white-skins offered them no violence,
they came back and, by means of signs, began to converse with these
haggard adventurers. There was a rich country lying far to the south,
said they, where the people had much gold. They, themselves, wore large
ornaments of the shining metal, and this the Spaniards eagerly gazed
upon, for it was substantial evidence that the precious material could
be found at no far distant place.
Cheered, but miserable, the adventurers camped here for six weary
weeks, when the ship returned with provisions. Those on board were
horrified at the gaunt and haggard faces of their comrades, who looked
like wild men, and who fell upon the provisions as if they had never
before seen food. They soon revived, and, embarking once more, sailed
southward along the coast, and away from that dismal and cheerless
spot, which they named the Port of Famine.
The vessel crept along near the shore, and the Spaniards again landed,
when they saw an Indian village among the trees. The inhabitants fled
into the forest as the white-skinned men approached, leaving behind
them a goodly store of corn and other food, and also a number of gold
ornaments of considerable value. The adventurers found that these were
a race of cannibals, for human flesh was roasting before a fire near
one of the huts. So they hastened back to their ship, with no cheerful
feelings, and again set sail, touching here and there upon the shore,
where they found bold and warlike natives, who showed no disposition to
be friendly.
Almagro, meanwhile, had succeeded in equipping a small caravel, and
had followed in Pizarro’s wake with about seventy men. At different
places he touched the shore, even as Pizarro had done, and had several
severe fights with the natives, in one of which he was struck in the
forehead by a javelin, which deprived him of the sight of one eye.
Nothing daunted by this mishap, he kept on down the coast, collected
considerable gold, and finally gained tidings of his friend Pizarro,
whom he came upon at a seaport called Chicama. The two adventurous
commanders embraced with much fervor, and each told the other of his
many exciting encounters with the natives. They both were sure that
they had not yet gone far enough to the southward, and, after a long
consultation, Pizarro decided to join with Almagro, and return to
Panama for more men, more arms, and better supplies.
Alas! when the adventurous sea rovers reached Panama, the Governor lent
an unwilling ear to all of their schemes.
“You have wasted men and money enough already,” said he. “Away with
you!”
But here the friendly De Luque interposed, and, by the payment of a
large sum, was able to buy off this official interference with future
explorations. A contract was now drawn up and signed between De Luque,
Pizarro and Almagro, whereby the two latter agreed to pursue the
undertaking until the treasures of Peru were discovered, and were to
divide all the lands, gold, jewels, or treasures equally between the
three, in consideration for further sums which De Luque was to furnish
for more ships and provisions. Should the expedition fail utterly,
De Luque was to be repaid with every bit of property which the two
sea-captains might possess. Two large and strong vessels were now
engaged, and, procuring a few horses and one hundred and sixty men, the
second expedition was started for the fabled land of promise.
There was to be no easy or garland-strewn road to success. One of their
ships, under an experienced pilot called Ruiz, sailed on ahead, leaving
Pizarro with a number of his men at a place on the sea-coast, which
seemed to be healthful, and in an excellent position for defense. A
good deal of treasure had been gathered as the adventurers coasted
along, and this was sent back to Panama, under the care of Almagro, who
was instructed to bring reënforcements. By the exhibition of the gold,
which had been discovered, it was hoped to tempt other Spaniards to
this hazardous adventure.
Ruiz had a successful voyage. He sailed across the equinoctial line
and entered a great bay, called the Bay of St. Matthew, where he found
the natives hospitable, and somewhat afraid of these white-skinned
strangers, in their curious house, which floated upon the blue water.
The people wore robes of a woolen cloth of fine texture, dyed in
brilliant colors, and embroidered with figures of birds and of flowers.
They had a pair of balances for weighing gold and silver, a utensil
never seen before among the natives of South America, and told him
that they possessed large flocks of llamas, or Peruvian sheep, from
which their wool was obtained, and also, that, in the palaces of their
rulers, gold and silver was as common as wood. Ruiz took several of the
most intelligent natives on board, in order to teach them Spanish, so
that they could act as interpreters, and then sailed back to the place
where he had left Pizarro and his men.
He arrived in the very nick of time, because the Spaniards had met
with nothing but disaster. They had journeyed into the interior,
hoping to find treasure and populous cities, only to become lost in
dense forests of gigantic tropical vegetation. Many were waylaid and
killed by lurking natives; some died of fever; and all suffered great
privation and distress. Hideous snakes and alligators infested the many
swamps which they came across; so, discouraged and depressed, they
had retreated to the sea-coast, only to be so tormented by swarms of
mosquitoes, that they had to bury themselves in the sand, in order to
rid themselves of the pests. Harried by fear of starvation, and worn
out by suffering, they wished to go no farther; but to sail immediately
for Panama. Luckily, at this juncture, Almagro returned with a goodly
supply of provisions, and with eighty new adventurers, whose enthusiasm
speedily revived the drooping spirits of Pizarro’s men.
Sailing southward, under the pilotage of Ruiz, they again reached
the Bay of St. Matthew, and cast anchor opposite the Peruvian town
of Tacamez, which was swarming with natives who wore many ornaments
of gold and of silver. Nearby flowed a river, called the River of
Emeralds, because of the quantities of the gems which were dug from its
banks, and, when the Spaniards heard of the vast stores of these gems
which the natives had gathered, they were eager to come into possession
of them.
With this thought in view, they landed, but were immediately surrounded
by nearly ten thousand natives, who were well-armed, and seemed to be
hostile. The adventurers were helpless; but, just as they expected to
be assaulted, one of their number was thrown from his horse, and this
caused a great commotion among the Peruvians.
“See,” they cried, “what was all in one part has divided, so that it
is now two portions. Make way for the sorcerers!”
A lane was immediately opened for the Castilians, and down this, with
thankful hearts, they retreated to their boats.
Shortly after this, Almagro returned in one of the ships to Panama, for
it was plain that they could never gain any treasure from these natives
by force, unless they had a greater number of soldiers. Pizarro chose
a small island as his headquarters until the return of his comrade;
but this decision caused great discontent among his men, and many of
them wrote to friends in Panama bewailing their condition, and begging
them to use their influence with the Governor to send speedy relief.
As Almagro did his best to seize all letters directed to Panama,
one of these was hidden in a ball of cotton, and sent as a present
to the wife of the Governor. It was signed by several soldiers, who
begged that a ship be sent to rescue them from the dismal isle before
they should all die of starvation and exposure. This epistle reached
its proper destination, and, when the Governor viewed the haggard
faces of Almagro’s men, he determined, in his own mind, that the few
ill-fated survivors of the expedition were being detained by Pizarro,
against their will, and upon a desolate island. He was also angered
by the number of lives which had already been lost, and the money
which had been spent upon the unsuccessful expedition to the land
of the Peruvians. Consequently he refused to help Almagro further,
and, instead of this, sent off two ships to bring back every Spanish
adventurer who was then with Pizarro. The vessels were commanded by a
certain Captain Tafur.
The followers of Pizarro were overjoyed to see two well-provisioned
ships come to their assistance, and were quite ready to return to
Panama; but Pizarro received letters from both Almagro and the priest,
De Luque, begging him to hold fast to his purpose. They furthermore
advised him that they would come to his assistance in a very short time.
Now occurred a famous incident in the career of this noted explorer, an
incident as famous as the passage of the Rubicon by Julius Cæsar, and
of the Alps by the redoubtable Napoleon Bonaparte. Pizarro, indeed, was
determined to press on, for he had in him an adventurous soul and the
wealth which he had seen at the Bay of St. Matthew had fired his zeal
and cupidity.
“Comrades,” said he to his men, “I understand that many of you would
put back from this hazardous enterprise. As for me, I intend to go
onward.”
Then, seizing his sword, he drew a line upon the sand from east to
west, for all were collected upon the beach.
“On this side,” he continued, pointing to the south, “are toil, hunger,
the drenching storm, desertion, and death; on that side, ease and
pleasure. Here lies Peru with its riches; there is Panama and its
poverty! Choose each man what best becomes a brave Castilian! For my
part I go to the south!”
So saying, he stepped across the line and was quickly followed by Ruiz,
Pedro de Candia, and eleven other adventurous souls. The remainder
made no movement, so Tafur sailed away with them, next day, leaving a
goodly portion of his provisions to help out those who determined to
cast their fortunes with the danger-loving Pizarro.
Now, constructing a raft, the adventurous Castilian transported his men
to an island which lay farther north. There were pheasants and rabbits
here, and also swarms of gnats, flies and mosquitoes. The rain fell
incessantly, and, although the Spaniards built rude huts in order to
keep out the water, they had hard work to be comfortable. For seven
months they thus lived, until Almagro arrived from Panama, with only
just enough men on board to work the vessel, and with commands from the
Governor for Pizarro to report immediately at the Isthmus.
In spite of this mandate, the adventurous Spaniards headed the vessel
for the southern coast, soon came in view of a great gulf, the Gulf of
Guayaquil, and saw, far above them, the snowy crests of the towering
mountains: the Cordilleras. Between these and the sea-coast, lay a
narrow strip of land, which was highly cultivated by the natives. Some
of these Pizarro persuaded to accompany him, and he left one of his own
company, who was fair of complexion and wore a long beard, to learn the
language of the Indians, so that he could act as an interpreter upon
his return. He also took several of the native sheep, or llamas—“the
little camels”—to exhibit to those who would doubt his story at
Panama, or in Spain, for he had decided if necessary to seek assistance
from the King.
The natives received these fair-skinned navigators with kindness and
much curiosity, for the armor, guns, and horses of these so-called
“Children of the Sun” greatly interested the gentle Peruvians. Several
of the Spaniards penetrated into the interior, and came back with
wondrous tales of temples filled with gold and silver ornaments. So
Pizarro was determined, upon his return to Panama, to gather a force
sufficient to conquer the entire country, for his desire for wealth and
the power which this brings, was quite similar to that of those who
penetrate the arid wastes of Nevada, at the present day, or search for
the precious metal amidst the hemlock-forests of Alaska.
Now, satisfied that a rich and populous kingdom lay before him, Pizarro
turned about and sailed northward, and, after an absence of a year and
a half, once more talked with the irate Governor of Panama. As he was
supposed to have perished with all his men, the representative of the
Spanish King was quite considerate in his treatment of him; but, when
Pizarro asked for further assistance in his scheme for the conquest
of Peru, the Governor seemed to have other use for his money and his
soldiers.
“What do I care?” cried the adventurer, in some heat. “I can visit the
King of Spain and he will help me, I know. I am determined to succeed.”