UP and down went the great Roldan scission. Up and down went Indian
revolt, repression, fresh revolt, fresh repression. On flowed time.
Ships came in, one bearing Don Diego; ships went out. Time passed.
Alonso de Ojeda, who by now was no more than half his friend, returned
to Spain and there proposed to the Sovereigns a voyage of his own to
that Southern Continent that never had the Admiral chance to return to!
The Sovereigns now were giving such consent to this one and to that one,
breaking their pact with Christopherus Columbus. In our world it was now
impossible that that pact should be letter-kept, but the Genoese did
not see it so. Ojeda sailed from Cadiz for Paria with four ships and a
concourse of adventurers. With him went the pilot Juan de la Cosa, and a
geographer of Florence, Messer Amerigo Vespucci.
It came to us in Hispaniola that Ojeda was gone. Now I saw the Admiral’s
heart begin to break. Yet Ojeda in his voyage did not find the Earthly
Paradise, only went along that coast as we had done, gathered pearls,
and returned.
Time passed. Other wild and restless adventurers beside Roldan broke
into insurrections less than Roldan’s. The Viceroy hanged Moxica and
seven with him, and threw into prison Guevara and Requelme. Roldan,
having had his long fling--too powerful still to hang or to chain in
some one of our forts--Roldan wrote and received permission, and came to
San Domingo, and was reconciled.
Suddenly, after long time of turmoil, wild adventure and uncertainty,
peace descended. Over all Hispaniola the Indians submitted. Henceforth
they were our subjects; let us say our victims and our slaves! Quarrels
between Castilians died over night. Miraculously the sky cleared.
Miraculously, or perhaps because of long, patient steering through
storm. For three months we lived with an appearance of blossoming and
prospering. It seemed that it might become a peaceful, even a happy
island.
The Viceroy grew younger, the Adelantado grew younger, and Don Diego,
and with them those who held by them through thick and thin. The Admiral
began to talk Discovery. It was two years since there, far to the south,
we had passed in by the Mouth of the Serpent, and out by the Mouth of
the Dragon.
The Viceroy, inspecting the now quiet Vega, rode to an Indian village,
near Concepcion. He had twenty behind him, well-armed, but arms were not
needed. The people came about him with an eagerness, a docility. They
told their stories. He sat his horse and listened with a benignant face.
Certain harshnesses in times and amounts of their tribute he redressed.
Forever, when personal appeal came to him, he proved magnanimous, often
tender, fatherly and brotherly. At a distance he could be severe. But
when I think of the cruelties and high-handedness of others here, the
Adelantado and the Viceroy shine mildly.
We rode back to Concepcion. I remember the jewel-like air that day, the
flowers, the trees, the sky. Palms rustled above us, the brilliant
small lizards darted around silver trunks. “The fairest day!” quoth the
Admiral. “Ease at heart! I feel ease at heart.”
This night, as I sat beside him, wiling him to sleep, for he always had
trouble sleeping--a most wakeful man!--he talked to me about the Queen.
Toward this great woman he ever showed veneration, piety, and knightly
regard. Of all in Spain she it was who best understood and shared
that religious part in him that breathed upward, inspired, longed and
strained toward worlds truly not on the earthly map. She, like him--or
so took leave to think Juan Lepe--received at times too docilely word of
authority, or that which they reckoned to be authority. Princes of the
Church could bring her to go against her purer thought. The world as
it is, dinging ever, “So important is wealth--so important is
herald-nobility--so important is father-care in these respects for
sons!” could make him take a tortuous and complicated way, could make
him bow and cap, could make him rule with an ear for world’s advice
when he should have had only his book and his ship and his dream and
a cheering cry “Onward!” Or so thinks Juan Lepe. But Juan Lepe and all
wait on full light.
He talked of her great nature, and her goodness to him. Of how she
understood when the King would not. Of how she would never listen to his
enemies, or at the worst not listen long.
He turned upon his bed in the warm Indian night. I asked him if I should
read to him but he said, not yet. He had talked since the days of his
first seeking with many a great lord, aye, and great lady. But the
Queen was the one of them all who understood best how to trust a man!
Differences in mind arose within us all, and few could find the firm
soul behind all that! She could, and she was great because she could.
He loved to talk with her. Her face lighted when he came in. When others
were by she said “Don Cristoval”, or “El Almirante”, but with himself
alone she still said “Master Christopherus” as in the old days.
At last he said, “Now, let us read.” Each time he came from Spain to
Hispaniola he brought books. And when ships came in there would be a
packet for him. I read to him now from an old poet, printed in Venice.
He listened, then at last he slept. I put out the candle, stepped softly
forth past Gonsalvo his servant, lying without door.
An hour after dawn a small cavalcade appeared before the fort. At first
we thought it was the Adelantado from Xaragua. But no! it was Alonzo
de Carvajal with news and a letter from San Domingo, and in the very
statement ran a thrilling something that said, “Hark, now! I am Fortune
that turns the wheel.”
Carvajal said, “senor, I have news and a letter for your ear and eye
alone!”
“From my brother at San Domingo?”
“Aye, and from another,” said Carvajal. “Two ships have come in.”
With that the Admiral and he went into Commandant’s house.
The men at Concepcion made Carvajal’s men welcome. “And what is it?”
“And what is it?” They had their orders evidently, but much wine leaked
out of the cask. If one wished the Viceroy and his brothers ill, it was
found to be heady wine; if the other way round, it seemed thin, chilly
and bitter. Here at Concepcion were Admiral’s friends.
After an hour he came again among us, behind him Carvajal.
Now, this man, Christopherus Columbus, always appeared most highly and
nobly Man, most everlasting and universal, in great personal trouble and
danger. It was, I hold, because nothing was to him smally personal, but
always pertained to great masses, to worlds and to ages. Now, looking at
him, I knew that trouble and danger had arrived. He said very little. If
I remember, it was, “My friends, the Sovereigns whom we trust and obey,
have sent a Commissioner, Don Francisco de Bobadilla, whom we must go
meet. We ride from Concepcion at once to Bonao.”
We rode, his company and Carvajal’s company.
Don Francisco de Bobadilla! Jayme de Marchena had some association here.
It disentangled itself, came at last clear. A Commander of the Order of
Calatrava--about the King in some capacity--able and honest, men said.
Able and honest, Jayme de Marchena had heard said, but also a passionate
man, and a vindictive, and with vanity enough for a legion of peacocks.
We came to Bonao and rested here. I had a word that night from the
Admiral. “Doctor, Doctor, a man must outlook storm! He grew man by
that.”
I asked if I might know what was the matter.
He answered, “I do not know myself. Don Diego says that great powers
have been granted Don Francisco de Bobadilla. I have not seen those
powers. But he has demanded in the name of the Sovereigns our prisoners,
our ships and towns and forts, and has cited us to appear before him and
answer charges--of I know not what! I well think it is a voice without
true mind or power behind it--I go to San Domingo, but not just at his
citation!”
Later, in the moonlight, one of our men told me that which a man of
Carvajal had told him. All the Admiral’s enemies, and none ever said
they were few, had this fire-new commissioner’s ear! A friend could not
get within hail. Just or unjust, every complaint came and squatted in a
ring around him. Maybe some were just--such as soldiers not being
able to get their pay, for instance. There was never but one who lived
without spot or blemish. But of course we knew that the old Admiral
wasn’t really a tyrant, cruel and a fool! Of course not. Carvajal’s man
was prepared to fight any man of his own class who would say that to his
face! He’d fight, too, for the Adelantado. Don Francisco de Bobadilla
had no sooner landed than he began to talk and act as though they were
all villains. Don Diego--whom it was laughable to call a villain--and
all. He went to mass at once--Don Francisco de Bobadilla--and when it
was over and all were out and all San Domingo there in the square, he
had his letters loudly read. True enough! He is Governor, and everybody
else must obey him! _Even the Admiral!_
At dawn Juan Lepe walked and thought. And then he saw coming the
Franciscan, Juan de Trasiena and Francisco Velasquez the Treasurer. That
which Juan de Trasiena and Francisco Velasquez brought were attested
copies of the royal letters.
I saw them. “Wherefore we have named Don Francisco de Bobadilla Governor
of these islands and of the main land, and we command you, cavaliers
and all persons whatever, to give him that obedience which you do owe to
us.” And to him, the new Governor: “Whomsoever you find guilty, arrest
their persons and take over their goods.” And, “If you find it to our
service that any cavaliers or other persons who are at present in
these islands should leave them, and that they should come and present
themselves before us, you may command it in our names and oblige it.”
And, “Whomsoever you thus command, we hereby order that immediately they
obey as though it were ourselves.” “And if thus and thus is found to be
the case, the said Admiral of the Ocean-Sea shall give into your hands,
ships, fortresses, arms, houses and treasure, and he shall himself be
obedient to your command.”
The Admiral said, “If it be found thus and thus! But how shall he find
it, seeing that it is not so?”
We rode to San Domingo, but not many rode. He would not have many. “No
show of force, no gaud of office!”
He rode unarmored, on his gray horse. The banner that was always borne
with him--“Yea, carry it still, until he demands it!”
We were a bare dozen, but when we entered San Domingo one might think
that Don Francisco de Bobadilla feared an army, for he had all his
soldiers drawn up to greet us! The rest of the population were in
coigns, gazing. We saw friends--Juan Ponce de Leon and others--but they
were helpless. For all the people in it, the place seemed to me dead
quiet, hot, sunny, dead quiet.
The Admiral rode to the square. Here was his house, and the royal banner
over it. He dismounted and spoke to men before the door. “Tell Don
Francisco de Bobadilla that Don Cristoval Colon is here.”
There came an officer with a sword, behind him a dozen men. “Senor, in
the name of the Sovereigns, I arrest you!”
Christopherus Columbus gazed upon him. “For what, senor?”
The other, an arrogant, ill-tempered man, answered loudly so that all
around could hear, “For ill-service to our lord the King and Queen, and
to their subjects here in the Indies, and to God!”
“God knows, you hurt the truth!” said the Admiral. “Where is my brother,
Don Diego?”
“Laid by the heels in the Santa Catarina,” answered the graceless man;
then to one of the soldiers, “Take the banner from behind him and rest
it against the wall.”
The Admiral said, “I would see Don Francisco de Bobadilla.”
“That is as he desires and when he desires,” the other replied. “Close
around him, men!”
The fortress of San Domingo is a gloomy place. They prisoned him
here, and they put irons upon him. I saw that done. One or two of his
immediate following, and I his physician might enter with him.
He stood in the dismal place where one ray of light came down from
a high, small, grated window, and he looked at the chains which they
brought. He asked, “Who will put them on?”
He looked at the chains and at the soldier who brought them. “Put them
on, man!” he said. “What! Once thou didst nail God’s foot to a cross! As
for me, I will remember that One who saved all, and be patient.”
They chained him and left him there in the dark.
I saw him the next day, entering with his gaoler. Had he slept? “Yes.”
“How did he find himself?”
“How does my body find itself? Why, no worse than usual, nowadays that I
am getting old! My body has been unhappier a thousand times in storm and
fight, and thirst and famine.”
“Then mind and soul?” I asked.
“They are well. There is nothing left for them but to feel well. I am in
the hand of God.”
I did what service for him I could. He thanked me. “You’ve been ever
as tender as a woman. A brave man besides! I hope you’ll be by me, Juan
Lepe, when I die.”
“When you die, senor, there will die a great servant of the world.”
I spoke so because I knew the cordial that he wanted.
His eyes brightened, strength came into his voice. “Do you know aught of
my brother the Adelantado?”
“No. He may be on his way from Xaragua. What would you wish him to do,
sir?”
“Come quietly to San Domingo as I came. This Governor is but a violent,
petty shape! But I have sworn to obey the Queen and the King of the
Spains. I and mine to obey.”
I asked him if he believed that the Sovereigns knew this outrage. I
could believe it hardly of King Ferdinand, not at all of the Queen.
Again I felt that this was cordial to him. I had spoken out of my
conviction, and he knew it. “No,” he said. “I do not believe it. I will
never believe it of the Queen! Look you! I have thought it out in the
night. The night is good for thinking out. You would not believe how
many enemies I have in Spain. Margarite and Father Buil are but two of
a crowd. Fonseca, who should give me all aid, gives me all hindrance. I
have throngs of foes; men who envy me; men who thought I might give them
the golden sun, and I could not; hidalgos who hold that God made them to
enjoy, standing on other men’s shoulders, eating the grapes and throwing
down the empty skins, and I made them to labor like the others; and not
in Heaven or Hell will they forgive me! And others--and others. They
have turned the King a little their way. I knew that, ere I went to find
that great new land where are pearls, that slopes upward by littles to
the Height of the World and the Earthly Paradise. Turned the King, but
not the Queen. But now I make it they have worked upon her. I make it
that she does not know the character of Don Francisco de Bobadilla. I
make it that, holding him to be far wiser than he is, she with the
King gave him great power as commissioner. I make it that they gave him
letters of authority, and a last letter, superseding the Viceroy, naming
him Governor whom all must obey. I make it that he was only to use this
if after long examination it was found by a wise, just man that I had
done after my enemies’ hopes. I make it that here across Ocean-Sea,
far, far from Spain, he chose not to wait. He clucked to him all the
disaffected and flew with a strong beak at the eyes of my friends.” He
moved his arms and his chains clanked. “I make it that this severity is
Don Francisco de Bobadilla’s, not King Ferdinand’s, not--oh, more than
not--the good Queen’s!”
Juan Lepe thought that he had made out the probabilities, probably the
certainties.
“If I may win to Spain!” he ended. “It all hinges on that! If I may see
the Sovereigns--if I may see the good Queen! I hope to God he will soon
chain me in a ship and send me!”
Had he seen Don Francisco de Bobadilla?
No, he had not seen Don Francisco de Bobadilla. He thought that on the
whole that Hidalgo and Commander of Calatrava was afraid.
Outside of the fortress that afternoon Juan Lepe kept company with one
who had come with the fire-new Governor, a grim, quiet fellow named
Pedro Lopez. He and Luis Torres had been neighbors in Spain; it was
Luis who brought us together. I gave him some wine in Doctor Juan Lepe’s
small room and he told readily the charges against the Viceroy that
Bobadilla, seizing, made into a sheaf.
Already I knew what they were. I had heard them. One or two had, I
thought, faint justification, but the mass, no! Personal avarice,
personal greed, paynim luxury, arrogance, cruelty, deceit--it made one
sorrowfully laugh who knew the man! Here again clamored the old charge
of upstartness. A low-born Italian, son of a wool-comber, vindictive
toward the hidalgo, of Spain! But there were new charges. Three men
deposed that he neglected Indian salvation. And I heard for the first
time that so soon as he found the Grand Khan he meant to give over to
that Oriental all the islands and the main, and so betray the Sovereigns
and Christ and every Spaniard in these parts!
The Adelantado arrived in San Domingo. He came with only a score or two
of men, who could have raised many more. Don Francisco de Bobadilla
saw to it that he had word from his great brother, and that word was
“Obedience.” The Adelantado gave his sword to Don Francisco. The latter
loaded the first with chains and put him aboard a caravel in the harbor.
He asked to be prisoned with his brother; but why ask any magnanimity
from an unmagnanimous soul?
Out in the open now were all the old insurgents. Guevara and Requelme
bowed to the earth when the Governor passed, and Roldan sat with him at
wine.