Heroic Adventures By Land And Sea - 3

Heroic Adventures By Land And Sea - 3

While Mendez was making his preparations, putting a false keel on the canoe and fixing

weather boards along its gunwales to prevent its shipping seas, fitting a mast and sail and

giving it a coat of tar, the Admiral retired into his cabin and busied himself with his pen.

He wrote one letter to Ovando briefly describing his circumstances and requesting that a

ship should be sent for his relief; and another to the Sovereigns, in which a long rambling

account was given of the events of the voyage, and much other matter besides, dismally

eloquent of his floundering in the quag. Much in it—about Solomon and Josephus, of the

Abbot Joachim, of Saint Jerome and the Great Khan; more about the Holy Sepulchre and

the intentions of the Almighty in that matter; with some serious practical concern for the

rich land of Veragua which he had discovered, lest it should share the fate of his other

discoveries and be eaten up by idle adventurers. "Veragua," he says, "is not a little son

which may be given to a stepmother to nurse. Of Espanola and Paria and all the other

lands I never think without the tears falling from my eyes; I believe that the example of

these ought to serve for the others." And then this passage:

"The good and sound purpose which I always had to serve your Majesties, and the

dishonour and unmerited ingratitude, will not suffer the soul to be silent although I

wished it, therefore I ask pardon of your Majesties. I have been so lost and undone; until

now I have wept for others that your Majesties might have compassion on them; and now

may the heavens weep for me and the earth weep for me in temporal affairs; I have not a

farthing to make as an offering in spiritual affairs. I have remained here on the Indian

islands in the manner I have before said in great pain and infirmity, expecting every day

death, surrounded by innumerable savages full of cruelty and by our enemies, and so far

from the sacraments of the Holy Mother Church that I believe the soul will be forgotten

when it leaves the body. Let them weep for me who have charity, truth and justice. I did

not undertake this voyage of navigation to gain honour or material things, that is certain,

because the hope already was entirely lost; but I did come to serve your Majesties with

honest intention and with good charitable zeal, and I do not lie."

Poor old heart, older than its years, thus wailing out its sorrows to ears none too

sympathetic; sad old voice, uplifted from the bright shores of that lonely island in the

midst of strange seas! It will not come clear to the head alone; the echoes of this cry must

reverberate in the heart if they are to reach and animate the understanding.

At this time also the Admiral wrote to his friend Gaspar Gorricio and the reader may look

upon a facsimile of the faded leaf upon which the trivial document still exists. For the

benefit of those who may be interested I give the letter in Spanish and English.

REVEREND AND VERY DEVOUT FATHER:

"If my voyage should be as conducive to my personal health and the repose of my house

as it seems likely to be conducive to the aggrandisement of the royal Crown of the King

and Queen, my Lords, I might hope to live more than a hundred years. I have not time to

write more at length. I hope that the bearer of this letter may be a person of my house

who will tell you verbally more than can be told in a thousand papers, and also Don

Diego will supply information. I beg as a favour of the Father Prior and all the members

of your religious house, that they remember me in all their prayers.

"Done on the island of Jamaica, July 7, 1503. "I am at the command of your Reverence.

.S.

.S.A.S. XMY

Xpo FERENS."

Diego Mendez found some one among the Spaniards to accompany him, but his name is

not recorded. The six Indians were taken to row the canoe. They had to make their way at

first against the strong currents along the northern coast of Jamaica, so as to reach its

eastern extremity before striking across to Espanola. At one point they met a flotilla of

Indian canoes, which chased them and captured them, but they escaped. When they

arrived at the end of the easterly point of Jamaica, now known as Morant Point, they had

to wait two or three days for calm weather and a favourable wind to waft them across to

Espanola, and while thus waiting they were suddenly surrounded and captured by a tribe

of hostile natives, who carried them off some nine or ten miles into the island, and

signified their intention of killing them.

But they began to quarrel among themselves as to how they should divide the spoils

which they had captured with the canoe, and decided that the only way of settling the

dispute was by some elaborate trial of hazard which they used. While they were busy

with their trial Diego Mendez managed to escape, got back to the canoe, and worked his

way back in it alone to the harbour where the Spaniards were encamped. The other

Spaniard who was with him probably perished, for there is no record of what became of

him—an obscure life lost in a brave enterprise.

One would have thought that Mendez now had enough of canoe voyages, but he had no

sooner got back than he offered to set out again, only stipulating that an armed force

should march along the coast by land to secure his safety until he could stand across to

Espanola. Bartholomew Columbus immediately put himself at the head of a large and

well-armed party for this purpose, and Bartolomeo Fieschi, the Genoese captain of one of

the lost caravels, volunteered to accompany Mendez in a second canoe. Each canoe was

now manned by six Spanish volunteers and ten Indians to row; Fieschi, as soon as they

had reached the coast of Espanola, was to bring the good news to the Admiral; while

Mendez must go on to San Domingo, procure a ship, and himself proceed to Spain with

the Admiral's letters. The canoes were provisioned with water, cassava bread, and fish;

and they departed on this enterprise some time in August 1503.

Their passage along the coast was protected by Bartholomew Columbus, who marched

along with them on the shore. They waited a few days at the end of the island for

favourable weather, and finally said farewell to the good Adelantado, who we may be

sure stood watching them until they were well out of sight.

There was not a cloud in the sky when the canoes stood out to sea; the water was calm,

and reflected the blistering heat of the sun. It was not a pleasant situation for people in an

open boat; and Mendez and Fieschi were kept busy, as Irving says, "animating the

Indians who navigated their canoes, and who frequently paused at their labour." The poor

Indians, evidently much in need of such animation, would often jump into the water to

escape the intolerable heat, and after a short immersion there would return to their task.

Things were better when the sun went down, and the cool night came on; half the Indians

then slept and half rowed, while half of the Spaniards also slept and the other half, I

suppose, "animated." Irving also says that the animating half "kept guard with their

weapons in hand, ready to defend themselves in the case of any perfidy on the part of

their savage companions"; such perfidy being far enough from the thoughts of the savage

companions, we may imagine, whose energies were entirely occupied with the oars.

The next day was the same: savage companions rowing, Spaniards animating; Spaniards

and savage companions alike drinking water copiously without regard for the smallness

of their store. The second night was very hot, and the savage companions finished the

water, with the result that on the third day the thirst became a torment, and at mid-day the

poor companions struck work. Artful Mendez, however, had concealed two small kegs of

water in his canoe, the contents of which he now administered in small doses, so that the

poor Indians were enabled to take to their oars again, though with vigour much abated.

Presumably the Spaniards had put up their weapons by this time, for the only perfidy

shown on the part of the savage companions was that one of them died in the following

night and had to be thrown overboard, while others lay panting on the bottom of the

canoes; and the Spaniards had to take their turn at the oars, although they were if

anything in a worse case than the Indians.