The Conquest of Mexico and Peru, prefaced by The Discovery of the Pacific: an historical narrative poem

Front matter

*» PERU PREFACED BY THE DISCOVERY OF THE PACIFIC : gut fttetijtical Savtativf sum IV KINAHAN CORNWALLIS, Author of " The Song of America and Columbus; or, the Story of the New World," &c. NEW YORK: Published at the Office of the Daily Investigator, 52 Broadway. 1893- Original edition. A 11 rights reserved. AND PERU: (Prefaced by The Discovery of the Pacific.) AN HISTORICAL NARRATIVE IN VERSE. Book the First. — Prelude. The Discovery of the Pacific by Vasco Nunez de Balboa, and the Prog ress of Discovery in the New World, from the First Voyage of Columbus to the Conquest of Mexico. Book, the Second.— The Conquest of Mexico by Cortez. Book the Third. — The Conquest of Peru by Pizarro. Finale. — The Discovery of the Mississippi. —The New World of To-Day.

Preface

. While each of the following stories in verse of the Discovery of the Pacific and the Conquest of Mexico and Peru, is separate, and complete in itself as far as it goes, it is really a continuation of the history of America during the period of discovery and exploration, from the time embraced in my previous poem, — "The Song of America and Columbus, or the Story of the New World," — to the discovery of the Mississippi, to say nothing of the bird's-eye view of the United States of America. That first volume of the history of America seemed much too colossal for this busy age, but the present one is — like Pelion on Ossa — more colossal still, inasmuch as — to come down from poetical to arithmetical figures — it contains 165 pages more of verse and about 5940 additional lines. This, if not staggering, is anything but a recom mendation to a man in a hurry, and every one is more or less in a hurry nowadays.

Yet " what is writ is writ," and — unlike the man bent on talking us to death — it is always easy to shut up a book. PREFA CE. II I have nothing to recall, and I can conscien tiously claim for the volume the same historical accuracy, in every respect, that marks its predecessor, and while the strict observance of this sine qua non hampered my muse in the composition of the work, it obviously enhances its value as an his torical study. Excepting Irving and Prescott, probably no prose historian of the age of discovery and exploration in the New World ever studied and collated more authorities, original and modern, on the subject, or tried harder, or with a more unbiased mind, to discover and tell the true story of the career and voyages of Columbus and his followers, as well as that of the discovery of the Pacific and the conquest of Mexico and Peru, than I have done.

For these extensive and laborious re searches I have little to show, except to close students of the period, but I feel amply repaid by the consciousness that there is not an error of fact, in verse or foot-note, in the whole of the two volumes. This, of course, is a poor claim for a writer of verse to make, for historical accuracy is entirely secondary to its poetical merit, but had I written in prose instead of verse, it would doubtless be appreciated as a cardinal virtue, or, at least, for all it is worth. I may also lay the flattering unction to my soul that probably no other man has worked so hard or so long in studying historical material relating to the progress of discovery and colonization in the

PREFACE.

. III New World without hope of fee or reward, as I have done in the composition of this history in verse of the European conquests in America. But it has been a source of intellectual pleasure to me from first to last, and I do not regret one moment of the time spent in the task, while I am as indifferent and unexpectant as to its pecuniary results as if we lived in a paradise where money and property were things unknown. Epic poems are, I know, very unfashion able. The popular taste is for fragments and fric assees, but the mere example of non-conformity is often salutary in its effects. At any rate, I have written con amove, and am not in the least afraid of being out of the fashion ; while, as to money, I would hardly take the trouble to cross the street to make a million of dollars if I had enough without it, for, " Enough is as good as a feast," and, by a mer ciful dispensation of Providence, we cannot take our ducats away with us to that bourne whence no traveller returns.

But I advocate thrift none the less, for no man appreciates the importance of having enough more than I do, and literature — especially verse and all that is embraced in the higher literature — is still, as it was in Dr. Johnson's time, a very poor crutch, although it may be a good walking cane. Hence I make my daily bread in a bakery not devoted to poesy, and far removed from Parnassus. Yet, busy as I have been in Wall Street every day, I have always found enjoyment in turning my

PREFACE.

. thoughts and labor, during leisure hours, in other directions, and, in this case, I have been impelled by my enthusiastic devotion to the study of the early history of the New World. For only one thing have I to ask the reader's forgiveness, and that is for telling so long a story, although so alluring and picturesque is the theme, that, for my own part, I should never tire of it if it went on like Tenny son's brook — forever. As it is, the pictures, or panoramas, I have here painted in words of the Discovery of the Pacific, the Conquest of Mexico and the Conquest of Peru, commemorate the grandest events in the history of America after its Discovery, and these stand out like great landmarks in the history of the World — ■ the stepping-stones to an expanding civilization, while the Discovery of America by Columbus was — in the light of its mighty train of splendid conse quences — the greatest and the most momentous event in the World's history since the birth of the Redeemer of mankind.

Kinahan Cornwallis. BOOK THE FIRST.-PRELUDE. The Discovery of the Pacific And the Progress of Discovery in the New World After the First Voyage of Columbus, Embracing a Complete Chronicle of Voyages And Events Prior to the Conquest of Mexico. Part I. Columbus and his Followers. Part II. The Pacific Ocean Discovered by Vasco Nunez de Balboa. Part III. The Fate of the Discoverer. Part IV. The Story of Valdivia. Part V. The Adventures of Ponce de Leon, Part VI. The Sea the Region of Romance. BOOK THE FIRST THE DISCOVERY OF THE PACIFIC.

Part I

Columbus and his Followers. When first Columbus found this Western World, And at San Salvador his canvas furled — While gladly, bidding that fair island hail, — He drew aside, magician-like, the veil That erst had hid the Old World from the New, And one he made for evermore the two. Four hundred years since then have passed away, And mark the splendid New World of to-day! What grander prize could mortal man have won ? What greater deed could mortal man have done ? Columbia in her grandeur tells the tale, And from her throne now bids Columbus hail — The deathless hero of the hemisphere — The Western Sea's immortal pioneer. Queen of the Western World he lives in thee, Thou Sovereign of a nation vast and free ! Columbus sailed through darkness into light, Yet lived and died in nigh Cimmerian night, For though he gave the New World to the Old, He never heard its wondrous story told.

To him 't was Asia — not a country new — That burst, where'er he voyaged, on his view. He sought a western passage to Cathay, But found a prize far grander on his way — The richest prize that e'er the sea revealed. 'T was strange the truth to eyes like his was sealed. But none the less the boon to man has been — Save the doomed Indian — and the world has seen No grander growth than this our New World shows. How great the debt the world Columbus owes ! He paved the way to empire in the West, And now behold liim by the world caressed ! America illuminates his name. Columbia consecrates anew his fame, And glorifies the hero of the Sea, Who sowed the seed of harvests yet to be. Quadro-Centennial songs to him be sung, And joyous peals of belfry bells be rung, For ne'er again will deed like his be done — The deed by which immortal fame was won ; For now no continent remains unknown To add fresh wealth and glory to a throne.

What inspiration led him thus to steer And open to the world a hemisphere ? What happy chance, combined with skilled design, As if the guide had been a hand divine? Columbus greater, grander, nobler seems As Time upon his mem'ry brightly beams, And more and more, colossal and unique, He through the ages seems to us to speak. His figure through the deep perspective looms, And Fame his name with glowing light illumes. Intrepid searcher of the Western Sea He — in his glory — lives eternally, And all the nations glorify his deed And harvests gather where he planted seed. Momentous deed ! The birth of Christ alone Surpasses that which made this New World known. ir. America ! the Western World's domain, Which, magnet-like, allures across the main, Give fire, and inspiration, to my strain. Let me recall the enterprise of yore, Which led exploring vessels to thy shore, Since first Columbus found San Salvador, And each event, in order, bring to view — The Old World's ancient commerce with the New.

The annals of this New World let me tell, And on the deeds of brave explorers dwell. The story of Columbus I have told, But mark the train of navigators bold, Who followed in the great explorer's wake And saw the dawn, through night, barbaric, break. First came the dauntless Cabots — sire, and son — Who glory as the fruit of daring won, And ere Columbus — lo ! — " Eureka ! " — cried, As they the sleeping Continent espied — * * Although the Western Hemisphere was discovered by Columbus in 1492, it was not until his third voyage — in August, 1498 — that he first sighted the Continent of America, where it is intersected by the numerous branches of the Ori noco, fourteen months previous to which, namely in June, 1497, it had been discovered — in the latitude, it is supposed, of about The rich reward of noble enterprise, Which kindled gladness in their searching eyes.

From Albion's cliffs, across the stormy main, They sailed, intent on honor more than gain, And ran along the bluff New England shore, And south to where Floridian breakers roar, When Famine o'er their course its shadow threw, And mutineers arose among the crew. Then homeward bound, they left the coast behind — The Western mainland they were first to find. These — after great Columbus — foremost stood In bold adventure o'er Atlantic's flood, And gave the British banner to the breeze Where ne'er before 't was seen upon the seas, And so, by brave example, led the way For Britain's commerce at a later day, And those intrepid toilers it has bred — A race of sailors to the waters wed. Then, German, and Italian, ships were made The vehicles of England's scanty trade, And maritime adventure scarce was known Where proud Britannia sat her island throne.

Thus with this mighty Continent in view, The pilgrims from her sea-beat shores were few, fifty-six degrees, far to the north of the straits of Belle Isle— by John Cabot and his son Sebastian, who had sailed with two vessels in the previous month from Bristol, England under the auspices of Henry VII., but at their own expense' on a voyage of exploration ; and following this discovery they coasted the mainland as far as the southern end of Florida when a mutiny breaking out among the crew they returned to' England John Cabot was a Venetian merchant who had long resided in Bristol, and Sebastian was born there. In the following year Sebastian Cabot made a second voyage to the American Continent, his main object, as in the previous in stance, being the discovery of a northwest passage to India And eighty years or more, from Cabot's day Had o'er the New World slowly passed away Ere Britain's flag o'er Britons waved on high Beneath the dome of its expansive sky,* While with each other, other nations vied, The spoils of savage conquest to divide : But ah ! what woes they carried in their train — France, Portugal, and sanguinary Spain, Whose paths with blood where'er they went were dyed.

Oft o'er the tragic story I have sighed. There, erst, the Red Man lived in wild delight, — ■ His Past, and Future, like his Present, bright, — Ne'er dreaming of Invasion's cruel blight. Behold, how Cortez ravaged Mexico, And laid the Empire, and its ruler low — Impelled by av'rice, and religious zeal, And fortified with armor's glitt'ring steel. See how Pizarro, with his cruel horde, Laid waste Peru, and put it to the sword, — Its peaceful people slew in wantQ.ii hate, — And with them one who'd earned a better fate — Atahualpa, its last Inca, proud, — Its temples ravaged, and an awful shroud *England put forward a claim to vast regions of North America some years after their discovery by the Cabots, a portion of which she ultimately colonized, but more than eighty years elapsed before she took any very decided step toward the permanent occupation of any part of America, and meanwhile the coast was explored by other nations.

To the frugal maxims of Henry VII. and unpropitious events of the reign of Henry VIII., Edward VI. and the bigoted Mary, this neglect of the colonization of the country may be attributed. The first real attempt at its settlement was made by Queen Elizabeth in 1576, when Frobisher's expedition sailed. Of deep despair, threw o'er the hapless land, Accurst by that marauding Spanish band. Alas ! for them, the Children of the Sun, Their glory o'er — their race forever run. III. While still Columbus sailed the Western seas, And envied Man his indolence, and ease, Beneath the lustre of a summer sun — His third eventful voyage just begun — Spain made the New World— saving Hayti — free To all her sons, of high and low degree — A royalty exacting on their gains, No cost, but only profit, to be Spain's. 'T was then Alonzo de Ojeda cried — "With Christ, and the Madonna, for my guide, I'll sail again the New World waters, wide, And gather in abundance golden ore, And spread the gospel on each savage shore ; — I, who with great Columbus served of yore.

But mark me, mine will yet eclipse his fame, For I'm resolved to win a grander name ! " Four caravels gave Seville to her son, Who dreamed of triumphs certain to be won, And with Amerigo Vespucci sailed, His mind ambitious, and his body mailed.* * Ojeda, who had sailed with Columbus on his second voyage, aided by Bishjp Fonseca, at the head of the Department of the Indies, obtained the royal license for the expedition, and also the charts, and journals of Columbus, and left Spain with four ships equipped by the merchants of Seville, on the 20th of May, 1499, to make discoveries in the New World. Ame rigo Vespucci, a Florentine gentleman, accompanied Ojeda, and owing to the chart and descriptions of the New World, that he published on his return, it acquired his name, and by universal consent this was retained, notwithstanding its ob vious injustice to Columbus.

He longed to spread discov'ry in the West, And gather laurels on the ocean's breast, And find a realm of beauty in the South. Ere long he reached the Orinoco's mouth, And far along the continent explored, While pearls, and gold, he added to his hoard. Enchanting prospects met his wond'ring eyes, Which sparkled oft with pleasure^ and surprise, And native throngs regaled him with their songs, Unconscious, then, of their impending wrongs : And there he found a wand'ring English fleet, And marvelled much the rovers, thus, to meet; But England's records fail to tell the tale That from her shores such e'er were known to sail. Anon he touched at Hayti's island shore, By stealth to glean where he had gleaned before ; But he was forced by Roldan thence to flee, And — homeward bound — again he sailed the sea, And fanned the flame of enterprise in Spain, Though scant)', save in glory, was his gain : But greater glory, far, Vespucius gained, Though to the sea, and arms, but little trained.

Fame at a bound Americus attained. He told the New World's story with his pen, And brought it thus within the common ken, And drew a chart of all the coasts he'd seen, And all of those where Spaniards e'er had been, f\.nd left Columbus coldly in the shade, By selfish ends, and low ambition swayed. Spain quickly with the New World linked his name, And all the world has since prolonged his fame — The fame that by an accident was won, And everlasting wrong was swiftly done. By this caprice Columbus lost his due, The Muse, historic, only, holding true. But in Columbia — mark ! — he lives, anew. Alonzo Nino, to adventure prone, And basking in the favor of the Throne, Was next to leave the Spanish shore behind, Expecting in the New World wealth to find, And reap a splendid harvest of renown, And win both praise, and titles from the Crown.

His comrade, Guerra, joined him in the deed, And mingled Christian zeal with boundless greed. Companions of Columbus they had been, And where they'd wandered once they longed to glean. They chose Ojeda's course — the beaten track — And bore, in rich abundance, treasure back, But to the store of knowledge added naught : Yet with incitement their return was fraught. For all who saw the wealth the wand'rers brought Were eager in their track, themselves, to sail — In calm to glide, or face the whistling gale. Then Pinzon followed with his caravels.* " Farewell ! " he cried, and wept the Palos belles. He steered his squadron south, and crossed the line, And felt the sun with tropic fervor shine, And saw it set with grandeur in the west, With all the sky in gorgeous colors dressed, And ocean bathed in their refulgent glow, While winds to his amazement ceased to blow.

None the Equator e'er had crossed before, And all on board a look of wonder wore. He landed with the Amazon in view, And saw its waters join the ocean blue. * Vincent Yanez Pinzon having built four caravels, sailed from Palos, in Spain, in December, 1499, and after touching at the Cape de Verde Islands, steered boldlv south and was the first person known to have crossed the Equator. ■i it the He raised the Cross, and solemnized the Mass, But there the natives he enslaved, alas ! He lured them, by a stratagem, from shore, And after that, it met their gaze no more : But Retribution followed at his heels, And tempests thundered grandly o'er his keels, While ocean, in commotion, wildly tossed, And of the four, three caravels were lost. He well deserved his loss, the wretch so base, Who thus could traffic in the human race.

From Lisbon sailed ere he returned to Spain — To add renown to King Emanuel's reign — Don Pedro Cabral, bound for Hindostan, And — later on — the realm of Kubla Khan. With thirteen ships, and castled caravels.* As these — so History the story tells — To shun the calms along the Guinea shore Due westward — an imposing squadron — bore, Don Pedro sighted unexpected land — A rugged coast, but picturesque, and grand, Where bloom, and verdure, beautified the view, And royal palms, like sentient beings, grew, And rainbow-tinted birds among them flew, While monkeys climbed the trees to see the fleet, And parrots gave the signal to retreat. Like amethystine drops, and ruby showers, The paroquets emerged from leafy bowers, And flashed in constellations through the air. Don Pedro cried — " The clime is wondrous fair !

And, landing, claimed it for the Portuguese ; Then bending in devotion, on his knees, He placed a cross beneath the spreading trees, * The caravels had " castles," or high cabins, built at bow and stern. !> And murmured — " Country of the Holy Cross ! The Christian's triumph is the Heathen's loss ! " And so 't was called by Cabral and the Throne, Long ere its modern name — Brazil — was known. Along the coast the vessels held their way, And reached, at length, a broad, majestic bay, Where mighty mountains looked, in splendor, down, And on the shining waters seemed to frown, Their rugged sides, colossal, clear, and bold, Touched by the ardent sun with rays of gold, While further inland, lofty peaks arose, Their pointed summits lightly capped with snows ; And near them, yet apart — alone, and grand — A naked rock o'erlooked the smiling land — A massive peak, but strangely bleak, and bare — A sentinel forever stationed there — And with the mountains round it for a frame — " The Sugar Loaf," its celebrated name.

That bay was Rio's, then unknown to fame. IV. Whoe'er has wandered where, now, Rio lies, Has gazed on beauty with admiring eyes, And seen the voiceless Organ Mountains rise, With peaks aspiring to the flashing skies, And felt the charm of grandeur o'er him steal, For there to see the prospect, is to feel. The city's broad, white wilderness of streets, The roving and delighted vision meets, With green hill-sides, and gardens full of bloom, All redolent of exquisite perfume, And girdled by a purple mountain-ring, In whose deep shadows birds of beauty sing, While high above, Bonito's peak is seen — A lance-like mountain, with a point as keen lj And Corcovado's stark, and mighty ridge That spans the sky like some celestial bridge. Far to the right and left the bay extends, And, as it glitters, picturesquely bends.

Along its shores the feath'ry palms appear, And orange-groves are clustered far and near, While over all the Sugar Loaf presides, And to the sunlight bares its sweeping sides. Whoe'er has from the city wandered wide, And to the mighty, lonely forest hied, In silent awe its majesty has felt, And on the scene his mind has, later, dwelt; For Nature there is lovely, and profound, And man seems but a pigmy on the ground By those colossal trunks that soar so high They seem to reach the over-hanging sky: Yet there embraced by parasites they die. Black tomb-like gorges open to his view — With mountain torrents leaping wildly through, And roaring as they rush to reach the sea, Impatient as a captive to be free — As through the forest he his way pursues, 'Mid vegetation rich in countless hues. Vast granite boulders tapestried with fern, He through the tangled mazes can discern, And over-arching leaves of mammoth size, That strike each fresh beholder with surprise.

The dark and gloomy green of orange-trees — ■ Which murmur softly in the summer breeze — Contrasts with the poncetta's crimson flame, While mutely the liana's coils proclaim The fate that waits on all they gather round — Each tree a giant in their meshes bound. The huge and spiky cactus, with its thorns, The undergrowth, at intervals, adorns, And when upon the scene Night's shadows fall, The jaguar to his mate is heard to call, The bat whirrs past with shrill and ghostly cry, The wide-winged vulture swoops in search of prey, And fire-flies dance, like spirits blithe, and gay, Or stars descended from the Milky Way. V. His eastern course Don Pedro still pursued Across the ocean's trackless solitude, But swiftly to the King the tidings sent_ That he had found — perchance — a continent. The King thereon was eager to explore, And bade Vespucci sail, and seek its shore, Which done, he found the land was known before, By Cabot, and Columbus, brought to view.

He hesitated what 't was best to do. The Pope's partition this decreed to Spain — The hemisphere dividing 'tween the twain — But was Don Pedro's deed to be in vain ? No ! not while he — Emanuel — lived to reign ! The rival kings contended for the soil, Each claiming that to him belonged the spoil; But Spain, at length, relinquished all her claim, And so 't was left to swell her rival's fame. VI. Still great in prowess were the Portuguese, Who aimed to rule the empire of the seas ; And saw with hatred, and a jealous eye, Spain's rival flag o'er distant regions fly, And longed to spread discov'ry o'er the main, And dim the glory of that rival's reign. Cortereal espoused his nation's cause, And coveted his countrymen's applause, And from his purse the needed means supplied To search the western ocean, far and wide, And, through it, find a passage to the East, Whose pictured riches were his mental feast : But all in vain he sought for famed Cathay, And, disappointed, northward turned away, To sight, at length, the isle of Newfoundland, And then — exploring — pass from strand to strand, And— later — through the broad St. Lawrence glide, And safe in Labrador at anchor ride, And trade with Esquimaux along the shore, Where none — save Norsemen — e'er had been before.

There icebergs rose like islands from the sea — A scene the painter's eye delights to see — While on them shone trie sun's refulgent rays, And made their sides with dazzling colors blaze — Green, purple, yellow, blue, and orange-red. Rich lights, and shadows, on them grandly played, And all alike in splendid hues arrayed, While Arctic birds, in flights, around them flew, And lent the charm of motion to the view. To Labrador he quickly bade adieu, And Lisbon gave the wand'rer welcome home ; But he was prone, where'er he could, to roam, And sailed, ere long, again, for Labrador, And, after that, was heard of nevermore. VII. Spain toward the New World cast an eager eye, And — "To the Indies ! " was the nation's cry. De Lepe from Palos westward ploughed the main, Though little was his own, or country's gain.

By St. Augustine's cape 't was his to sail, But Time has o'er his record thrown a veil. Bastides shared his country's deep unrest, And sailed from Cadiz for the glowing west, With golden visions, born of boundless hope, And fancies wild, unbridled in their scope. He coasted Terra Firma's wooded shore — And gathered, here and there, some golden ore — From Cape de Vela to Darien's bay, But failed to find the riches of Cathay. Ojeda, and Vespucci, sailed anew To swell the knowledge of these regions new, And chose a course they deemed unploughed by man, Which might — who knew ? — lead on to Hindostan, But when they reached — disheartened — Hayti's shore, They found their course Bastides-ploughed before ; And little wealth, or glory, either won By aught on this exploring voyage done : But still the ardor for adventure spread, And all believed the sea to riches led.

To Newfoundland a fleet of fishers sped, And reaped the finny harvest of the deep, Which — off the Banks — is rarely prone to sleep. From France, and Spain, and Portugal, they sailed To work a mine of wealth that never failed. There Denys mapped the sea, and shores around, While haply the St. Lawrence, Aubert found, And back to Gaul conveyed an Indian bride, Who'd wandered on the margin of its tide. To find that Western passage to the East — On which their eyes were destined ne'er to feast — From Seville, now, with Solis, Pinzon sped ; And to Brazilian shores their voyage led, Where bright La Plata on their vision shone — A stream, ere this, the white man ne'er had known. The woods primeval there adorned the view. Reside the fealh'ry, tall, and straight bamboo, ■7 Cecropias in beauty — slender — grew, And to the breeze their lofty branches threw A hundred feet above the weeds below, While humming-birds were wand'ring to and fro, And captive led the wond'ring gazers' eyes, And arborescent ferns of mammoth size With spreading fronds looked up to court the sky, While mistletoes their tendrils flung on high.

Lobelias with spikes of azure bloom Relieved the mighty forest's sylvan gloom, And capheas, with purple blossoms bright, Their odor shed, and charmed, the while, the sight. Acacias, and bromelias, displayed Their wealth of leaf in varied tints arrayed, While mangroves, and bignonias, were seen Among the lowlands, dense and grandly green, With golden maize, the Red Man's native fare, In patches o'er the landscape, here and there. Ere long to Yucatan they ploughed their way, And gazed on spots where ruined cities lay, Whose builders, too, had like them passed away, Nor left a trace on Time's eternal tide. At length, beside La Plata, Solis died — For he, again, from Seville sailed away To seek that mythic channel to Cathay — And on that second voyage he was slain Where glides the river to embrace the main, While comrades round him shared his tragic end And vainly strove existence to defend ; For savage hosts in warlike fury rose, And capped the climax of their earthly woes.