Spanish and Portuguese South America during the Colonial Period; Vol. 1

PREFACE

The following account of the Colonies from which sprang the States of South America owes its origin to the want of such a work felt by myself some years ago. In 1866 I received the appointment of second Secretary to Her Majesty’s Legation in the Argentine Republic and Paraguay. My previous experience having been in quite another part of the world, I had all to learn respecting the regions which I was about to visit. The only book which had been recommended to me was Sir Woodbine Parish’s work on Buenos Ayres. On reaching my destination, however, I found that this work was already out of date; I also found that there was a considerable amount of literature respecting South America. But this literature being partly in English, French, German, Dutch, Latin, or Italian, and partly in Spanish or Portuguese, was only accessible to persons possessing a reading knowledge of the above-named languages.

Of two years in South America I passed one as Secretary at Buenos Ayres, and the other in a similar capacity at Rio de Janeiro. During the first year I was sent up the Uruguay and to the Province of Santa Fè; then to the Welsh colony on the Chupat river in Patagonia; and, lastly, to the then seat of war in Paraguay: in the second year I went on a mission to the Province of Minas Geraes in Brazil. I had thus opportunities of seeing different parts of the continent, and of becoming more impressed with the want of a work giving anything like a complete account of them.

On my return to Europe I was employed in several countries for a number of years in succession, and have only recently found the necessary leisure to compose a work of the kind mentioned. The materials at my disposal are voluminous; but my effort has been to make this Review as concise as is consistent with clearness. In offering it to the Public I by no means desire it to take the place of the more elaborate and original works referred to in it, but rather to serve as an Index to the contents of these various works.

The History of South America may contain much of general interest; it possesses, moreover, a special interest for merchants, settlers, sailors, and travellers, who may have passed, or may be likely to pass, a portion of their lives on the continent in question; nor should some knowledge of an important portion of the globe be excluded from the sphere of inquiry of any educated person.

That the merest elementary acquaintance with South American geography and politics may be conspicuously absent even in educated English circles, may be gathered from the following circumstances within my own experience:—On my return to England in 1868, I happened to be present on the annual speech-day at Harrow. At luncheon there I sat next to a gentleman whose remarks on the unusual heat of the weather led to his learning that I had recently come from Rio de Janeiro. His interest being excited, he asked me to tell him, one by one, the several stages by which one arrived there from England, viz.—Southampton, Lisbon, St. Vincent, Pernambuco, Bahia, and Rio. When I had named the last point he repeated the inquiry, “and then?” to which I replied that then one was at one’s destination.—“But,” he asked, “I thought Rio was up a river?” I suggested that he was perhaps misled by the name “Rio de Janeiro,” the River of January, but said that the town was situated on an arm of the sea, which the first European explorers had mistaken for a stream, naming it after the month of the year on which it was discovered. But this explanation did not satisfy him. He was thinking of some other river: would I name one or two? I suggested “The Amazons,” which he said was the stream he meant, until I informed him that it lay about two thousand miles to the north of Rio de Janeiro! On this he remarked that there was surely another great stream in that quarter, and that he must have mistaken the name. I suggested the river Plate, to which he answered “Yes, yes, of course;” but his speculations collapsed when I informed him that the river Plate was about a thousand and fifty miles to the south of the Brazilian capital.

About the same time I met at a dinner-party a well-known Member of Parliament, who, on learning the quarter of the world from which I had recently arrived, professed himself as being most anxious to hear something about the Paraguayan War, then much talked of, and the progress of which he said he had followed with close attention. I began with a statement of the contending parties—namely, Paraguay on the one hand, and Brazil, the Argentine Republic, and the Republic of Uruguay on the other. “But stop,” he said “You have omitted to mention Corrientes.” I answered that to quote Corrientes as being one of the parties to the war would be the same as to mention Yorkshire as having been one of the principals of the Crimean War—since Corrientes was merely a province of the Argentine Republic. This was a new light to him; the name had so taken hold of his memory that he was at first inclined to argue with me as to the correctness of my statement.

Lest this gentleman should appear exceptionally uninformed, I may mention that, as I had subsequent opportunities of ascertaining, even some men holding high office in the Royal Geographical Society—who were familiar with the latest discoveries near the North Pole and in the interior of Africa, with Central Asia, and with Australia—had somehow in their range of study overlooked South America.

In writing history, one man necessarily builds upon another man’s foundation. It was my first intention to compose a wholly original work, comprising the history of the several states of South America from the discovery of that Continent to the present day; but reflection convinced me that the execution of such a plan would require the labour of many years, even were all circumstances favourable. Various writers have formed schemes, the labour entailed by the magnitude of which has led to their collapse. As one example amongst many may be mentioned the scholar Muñoz, who employed nearly fifty years in amassing materials for a history of Spanish discovery and conquest in America, but who had scarcely finished the first volume when he died.

Even were one to attempt to produce an entirely original history of the early Portuguese South America, it would necessarily prove defective in comparison with Southey’s “History of Brazil.” In the preface to his work, that author says of it, under date of 1810, “For the greater part of the last century printed documents almost entirely fail. A collection of manuscripts not less extensive than curious, and which is not to be equalled in England, enables me to supply this chasm in history. The collection was formed during a residence of more than thirty years in Portugal, by a relative. Without the assistance which I have received from him, it would have been hopeless to undertake, and impossible to complete it.” With the above instances before me, I have felt it necessary to content myself with writing a historical Review respecting the several Spanish and Portuguese Colonies from which sprang the various countries which collectively form political South America.

London, 1884.

CHAPTER I.

INTRODUCTORY

1498.

Until the approach of the sixteenth century the South American continent, in so far as European knowledge was concerned, was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep that encompassed it. At that time the Spirit of God that moved upon the face of the waters said, “Let there be light;” and there was light.

On the 30th of May 1498 Columbus set sail from San Lucar de Barrameda, with a squadron of six vessels, on his third voyage of discovery, taking a course much further to the south than that which he had hitherto pursued. He stood to the south-west after leaving San Lucar; touching at the islands of Porto Santo and Madeira, where he remained a few days, taking in supplies before continuing his course to the Canary Islands. On the 19th of June he arrived at Gomara. Leaving Gomara two days later, Columbus divided his squadron off the island of Ferro, three of his ships being despatched to Hispaniola with supplies for the colony. With the three remaining vessels the admiral continued his voyage towards the Cape de Verde Islands, where he arrived on the 27th of June.

Leaving the island of Buena Vista on the 5th of July, Columbus stood to the south-west. The volcanic summit of Fuego was the last point visible of the Old World. On the 13th of July he found himself in the fifth degree of north latitude, in that region which extends for some ten degrees on each side of the line, and is known among mariners as the calm latitudes. There the trade winds from the south-east and north-east, meeting near the equator, neutralize each other. The sea is as a lake of oil, and vessels with their flapping sails appear as if they were destined to remain stationary for ever. The calm lasted for eight days, the air being like a furnace. The mariners lost all strength and spirit beneath the oppressive heat. In addition to sharing the sufferings of those around him, Columbus was at this time afflicted with an attack of gout; but his energy of mind overcame his bodily distress. To escape the heat he altered his course and steered to the south-west.

After making his way slowly for some time to the westward, through calms and mists and heat, the admiral emerged into a region blessed by a cooling breeze that filled his sails and dispelled the mists. The sky became clear, and the sun no longer gave forth an intolerable heat. The ships had been so dried by the parching weather that they leaked excessively, and it was necessary to seek a harbour without delay. He therefore kept on directly to the west; but as no land appeared, he altered his course to the northward, in search of the Caribbee Islands. By the 31st of July there was but one cask of water remaining in each ship, when the man on the look-out gave the cry of “land.” Three mountain tops were visible on the distant horizon; but as the vessels neared them, these three were seen to be one. It was an emblem of the Holy Trinity, after whom the pious Columbus in his distress had determined to name the first land he should behold. There was thus a peculiar appropriateness in giving to this island, which lies immediately off the South American coast, the name of La Trinidad.

On the following day Columbus coasted westward in search of water and of a convenient harbour. There was indeed no lack of water, for he beheld groves of palm-trees and forests rising from the sea-shore amidst running streams. He found the country cultivated in many parts, and having villages and scattered habitations. It produced so pleasant an impression on his mind that, in his letter describing it to Ferdinand and Isabella, he compared its appearance to that of the Spanish province of Valencia in the early spring. At a point to which he gave the name of La Playa, he sent his boats on shore for water. The inhabitants had taken to flight; his men found their footprints as they did the traces of deer.

While coasting Trinidad, Columbus beheld land stretching twenty leagues to the south. It was the low coast intersected by the mouths of the Orinoco. It does not appear that either the admiral or any of his men landed on this coast; and they sailed away from it, ignorant of the fact that they were the first Europeans who had looked on the terra firma or mainland of South America. On the 2nd of August Columbus continued his course to the south-west point of Trinidad, which he called Punta Arenal, and where his crews were permitted to land and refresh themselves. The anchorage at this place was, however, extremely insecure, and in the night-time Columbus trembled for the safety of his squadron, owing to a sudden rush of water caused by the swelling of one of the rivers which flow into the Gulf of Paria, and which tore one of his ships from her anchorage. He was, however, so fortunate as to escape without injury, and on the following day he passed in safety the formidable strait lying between the island and the mainland, and found himself in a tranquil sea beyond. He was now on the inner side of Trinidad, with the Gulf of Paria on his left.

The admiral now shaped his course northwards, steering for a mountain at the north-western point of Trinidad. On nearing it he beheld two lofty capes opposite each other, the one on the island, the other on the promontory of Paria, which stretches far out from the mainland. Between these capes there was another strait, which appeared even more dangerous than that he had left behind him, and to which, owing to its formidable appearance, he gave the name of Boca del Drago, or the Dragon’s Mouth. In order to avoid it he steered westward, under the belief that the promontory of Paria was an island. He found the beautiful coast indented with fine harbours, and the country in some places cultivated and in others covered with forest. He was greatly surprised to find the water become fresher and fresher as he proceeded, and likewise to find the sea as tranquil as if it were a vast harbour.

Up to this time he had held no communication with the people of the mainland, although he had in vain endeavoured to enter into parley with the inhabitants of Trinidad at Punta Arenal. After sailing for several leagues along the coast, he anchored on the 6th of August, and sent his boats on shore. Although traces of men were found, not a soul was to be seen. Columbus therefore proceeded further westward, and once more anchored. Here a canoe came off to the nearest caravel, the captain of which contrived to secure the three or four Indians which it bore. They were brought to the admiral, from whom they received beads and hawks’-bells, with which they returned delighted to the shore, and which induced their countrymen to come to the ships in numbers, bringing with them bread, maize, and other articles of food.

Taking with him several of these natives to serve as guides, Columbus proceeded eight leagues still further to the westward, and anchored at a lovely point, to which he gave the name of Aguja, or the Needle. The country was highly populous, and was possessed of magnificent vegetation. The natives were friendly, and invited the admiral, in the name of their king, to come to land. Many of them wore collars of an inferior kind of gold, which they called guanin. But what chiefly attracted the attention of the Spaniards, was the sight of strings of pearls which they wore round their arms, and which they said were procured on the sea-coast to the north of Paria. In order to obtain specimens of these treasures, Columbus sent his boats on shore; his people being received with profound respect on the beach by the natives, headed by their cacique, and being regaled to the best of their ability. The Spaniards had no difficulty in obtaining the objects of their desire, the Indians gladly parting with their necklaces and bracelets in exchange for hawks’-bells or articles of brass. It is to the credit of Columbus, in that age of violence towards inferior races, that no act is recorded showing ingratitude for the favour with which he and his men were received on this the first occasion when Europeans mixed with inhabitants of the mainland of South America.

Still imagining the coast of Paria to be an island, the admiral left this lovely spot and again set sail, coasting to the westward in search for an outlet to the north. He found the water, however, growing shallower and fresher, so that he could not venture to proceed any further with his own ship. He therefore came to anchor, and sent forward a caravel to ascertain whether there was an outlet to the ocean. On the following day he learned, on its return, that there was an inner gulf beyond, which contained the mouths of four great rivers, the waters of which sweetened the neighbouring sea. As it was impossible to proceed further westward, he had no alternative but to retrace his way and seek an exit by “the mouth of the Dragon.” Although he would gladly have remained to explore this opulent coast, he was compelled, as well by the condition of his health as by the scarcity of sea-stores in his ships, to hasten his departure for Hispaniola.

The admiral, therefore, on the 11th of August, set sail eastwards, and was borne along swiftly by the currents. On the 13th, he anchored near to the strait; and on the following day, towards noon, the ships approached the Boca del Drago. The mouth of this formidable ocean-pass is about five leagues wide; but there are two islands lying between its extremities. The immense body of fresh water which flows through the gulf in the rainy season, meeting the incoming waves, causes a terrific commotion extremely dangerous to ships; and this was the first occasion on which vessels were to go through it. The great navigator had neither chart nor pilot to guide him; but fortunately no sunken rock obstructed his way, and the current of fresh water prevailing over the incoming waves carried him safely through.1

Columbus now shaped his course to the westward, along the outer coast of Paria, which he still supposed to be an island; and he was borne still further unconsciously on the same course (whilst he lay to at night in order to avoid running on rocks and shoals) by the Gulf Stream which sets across the Caribbean Sea. It took some time for him, with all his experience, to realise the fact that this great body of fresh water, brought by the rivers to the ocean, could not be the outcome of mere islands, but must proceed from the Terra Firma which was the object of his search. On leaving the coast of Paria, the navigator saw to the north-east, at some distance, in succession, the islands of Tobago and Granada, which form part of South America; but here we must for the present take leave of the great sea-king;2 for the limits of this work merely include the continent of South America and the islands immediately belonging to it. As the minute study of American geography does not form part of the education of every one, it may be proper to remark that the geographical limits of South America are perfectly distinct from those of the various countries forming Central America, as well as from the islands of the Spanish Main.

The next Spanish navigator who appeared in these seas was the celebrated Alonzo de Ojeda, who had accompanied Columbus in his second voyage, being then but twenty-one years of age. Through the influence of a cousin of his own name, a Dominican friar, he had obtained from Bishop Fonseca a commission, authorising him to fit out an armament, and to proceed on a voyage of discovery, provided that he should not visit any territories belonging to Portugal, nor any lands discovered for Spain before 1495. It was stipulated that a certain proportion of his profits should be reserved for the Crown.

With this license in his pocket, Ojeda had now to find the means of turning it to account. He had a high reputation for courage and conduct; but he was destitute of wealth. This element, however, was supplied by some merchants of Seville, who had so much faith in him that they believed he would soon find the means of enriching them as well as himself. With their assistance he was soon enabled to equip a squadron of four vessels, with which he set sail from St. Mary’s, near Cadiz. He had on board several seamen who had accompanied Columbus to Paria, for which coast Ojeda shaped his course. But the man on whom he chiefly relied was Juan de la Cosa, who had sailed with Columbus on his second voyage, and who was one of the ablest mariners of the day. Ojeda had likewise with him Amerigo Vespucci, a Florentine merchant, then established at Seville, whose fame arose, not from any part which he took in this expedition, but from his published narratives and from his subsequent voyages to another part of the South American continent.

Ojeda and his companions, who sailed from St. Mary’s on the 20th of May 1499, were guided by the charts which the admiral had sent home. Touching at the Canaries, they followed the route of Columbus, and at the end of twenty-four days reached the New World, about two hundred leagues further south than the point where the admiral had landed, being somewhat near Surinam. Thence Ojeda coasted northwards, passing the mouths of many rivers, more especially the Orinoco. The first natives they beheld were at Trinidad, the people of which are described in the letters of Vespucci.3

After touching at several points of Trinidad and of the Gulf of Paria, Ojeda passed through the Boca del Drago, and then steered his course to the westward along the coast of Paria, until he arrived at Cumana or the Gulf of Pearls. Thence he stood for the opposite island of Margarita, which had been discovered by Columbus. This island and others adjacent were now explored; after which Ojeda returned to the mainland. At Maracapana he careened his vessels and built a small brigantine. The natives were friendly, and brought him abundance of provisions, in return for which they besought Ojeda to assist them in an expedition against the inhabitants of an island, who were wont to carry off their people to be eaten.

Such a request was greatly to the mind of the enterprising Castilian, and after sailing for seven days, he arrived at what are supposed to be the Caribbee Islands, one of which was pointed out by his guides as the abode of their foes. His landing was at first stoutly opposed; but on hearing the sound of his guns, the savages fled in terror, whilst Ojeda and his men pursued them to the shore. The Carib warriors, however, rallied and courageously fought for a long time, but they were at length driven to the woods, leaving many killed and wounded. The fight was renewed on the succeeding day with the same result, after which the Spaniards set out on their return to the mainland, where Ojeda anchored for three weeks, to give his men time to recover from their wounds.

When his crew were again fit for the sea, Ojeda made sail and touched at the island of Curacoa. Entering a vast gulf, he beheld on the eastern side a village of strange construction. It consisted of a few large houses, shaped like bells, and built on piles driven into the bottom of the shallow lake. The houses were provided with drawbridges, and the communication was carried on by means of canoes. In this slight resemblance to the Queen of the Adriatic originated the name of Venezuela, or Little Venice. The native name was Coquibacoa. At sight of the ships the natives fled in terror, as did the rowers of a squadron of canoes which entered the harbour from the sea. They soon returned, however, bringing a peace-offering of sixteen young girls. The peace was of short duration; at a signal from some old women the Indians discharged a flight of arrows, and the girls plunged into the sea. But Ojeda was in no way taken aback. Manning his boats, he dashed amongst the canoes, sinking some of them, and killing and wounding a number of Indians, whilst the remainder took to flight.

Leaving this inhospitable spot, Ojeda proceeded to explore the gulf and reached the port of Maracaibo, where, in compliance with the entreaties of the natives, he sent a party on shore to explore the country. The Spaniards on this occasion were treated with the utmost hospitality. Indeed the whole country poured forth its population to do them homage, looking upon them and treating them as beings of a superior race or world. The Spaniards were permitted to take away with them several of the beautiful females of the country, one of whom accompanied Ojeda in a subsequent voyage.