Chapter IIISpain and Portugal in South America—Enmity between Brazilians and Argentines—Expulsion of Jesuits from Paraguay—Struggles with the natives—Father Mendoza killed—Death of Father MontoyaIn the province of Guayrá the Spaniards who had looked with disfavour on the Jesuits, and had enslaved the Indians when they were able, were in sore straits. The Mamelucos, finding no more Indians to enslave, fell on the two towns of Villa Rica and Ciudad Real, destroyed them utterly, and forced the inhabitants to flee for refuge into Paraguay. Thus Guayrá went the way of Matto Grosso and several other provinces of Spain, and became Portuguese. Strangely enough, most of these losses happened when Spain and Portugal were joined under one crown. At home the Spaniards and the Portuguese, however much they detested one another, were forced to keep the peace. In America they were always at war, which ended invariably to the detriment of Spain.[102]The strife begun by the Papal Bull of 1493, in which Pope Alexander VI. divided the territories discovered and to be discovered between Portugal and Spain, went on, till bit by bit Spain was stripped of the provinces of Matto Grosso, Rio Grande, and Guayrá, and found herself drawn into the numerous disputes about the Colonia del Sacramento, which cost so much blood to both contending Powers. Perhaps the most curious and interesting incident of the long struggle was the Three Years’ War, which began in 1750, after the marriage of Ferdinand VI. of Spain with Doña Barbara of Portugal. By the treaty entered into at this marriage, seven of the most flourishing of the missions situated on the left bank of the Uruguay were ceded to Portugal in exchange for La Colonia del Sacramento on the river Plate. The towns resisted change of sovereignty, as Portugal to them was typified by the Paulistas, their most inveterate enemies. The Marquis de Valdelirios in his curious despatches touches much upon this war, but perhaps the best account is to be found in the curious memoir of the Irish Jesuit Father, Tadeo Hennis,[103]who was the backbone of the resisting GuaranÃs.The ancient enmity of the two nations has been continued in their descendants, the Brazilians and the Argentines and Uruguayans, and little by little Brazil is absorbing all the northern portion of the Republic of Uruguay. After the retreat under Montoya down the Paraná, the Jesuit missions, especially in Paraguay and what is now the province of Corrientes, for some time enjoyed a period of peace and of repose, and the strange policy of the Jesuits was developed, and township after township arose amongst the GuaranÃs (1630-31). But there was still no rest for Ruiz Montoya, who was of those who rest but in the grave. In 1632, at the instance of the Governor and magistrates of the township of Jerez, Montoya sent Fathers Jean Rançonier and Mansilla to the north of Paraguay to found a mission amongst the Itatines, a forest-dwelling tribe. Their territory was marshy and the climate bad, and woods of indiarubber-trees covered all the land. Fathers del Techo and Charlevoix both speak of the ‘rebounding balls’ with which they played, which, thrown upon the ground, start up again as if they were filled with air. This is, perhaps, one of the first times that indiarubber is mentioned, though in some places Jean de Léry[104]seems to indicate he was acquainted with its use.The Jesuits found that to make progress was not easy with these Indians, who willingly enough listened to their preaching, but refused to alter their social habits, to which the Jesuits ascribe the fact that even then their numbers were diminishing. Like most of the Indians of America, they were polygamists, which custom in their race operates differently to polygamy amongst the negroes: for whereas they seem to increase and thrive, the Indians even at the conquest often tended to become extinct. When a headman amongst the Itatines died, a number of his followers jumped down precipices to accompany him upon his journey to a better world. This custom and polygamy gave much trouble to the Jesuits, but their most admirable patience and knowledge of mankind helped them to overcome them by degrees. All was about to flourish in the mission, when one Acosta, a Brazilian priest, appeared. Perhaps he was in league with the Paulistas, or perhaps was jealous of the Jesuits, for he tried hard to lead a number of the Indians to San Paulo to show them (as he said) how they should follow the true law of God.[105]The Itatines, either suspecting that Acosta’s true law was false, or tired of his preaching, rose and killed him; but the effect was bad, and there grew up amongst those infidels a coldness even towards the Jesuits themselves. Had it not been for two miraculous events which happened opportunely, as such things should happen if they are to be turned to good account, much harm might have been done. A chief, having cursed a priest, was seized at once with a malignant ulcer in the throat, which shortly killed him. The Itatines did not apparently think anything of the influence of the unhealthy climate in which they lived, and set the occurrence down to the act of God.But more was still to come. Another chief having so far forgotten himself as to jeer at a priest, a thunderbolt fell so close to him that he was knocked senseless, and lay as dead. These two events confirmed the Jesuits’ power, and things began to flourish in their four new missions. But the Great Power, so careful of the individual effort of His priests, seems to have been most unaccountably remiss of their success considered as a whole. In the same year (1632) the Mamelucos appeared and ruined all the four missions, so that the efforts of the Jesuits and the miracles were lost.In 1633 the first skirmish took place between the Bishop of Paraguay and the Jesuits. This skirmish little by little grew into a war, kept up for more than a hundred years, and ended finally in the expulsion of the Jesuits from Paraguay. The Governor, Don Luis de Cespedes, having called upon the Indians of the Jesuit missions for personal service, a proceeding quite against both the King’s orders and the Papal Bulls, the Bishop thought the moment opportune to press for tithes. This, too, was equally forbidden both by a Bull and by an order of the Council of the Indies. Padre Romero went to Asuncion and displayed his Bulls and his orders of the Council, and the Governor withdrew his claims. The Bishop, after some opposition, withdrew likewise, and the Provincial of the Order arrived at Asuncion, bringing with him an order from the King signifying that the Indians of the reductions were to be left entirely to the Jesuits. So for the present the Jesuits scored a victory, though in the future it was to cost them dear. But the Governor of Paraguay having returned apparently to his design of exacting personal service from the Indians of the missions, the Provincial checkmated him with a royal order from Philip IV. The order was addressed to the Viceroy of Peru, the fourth Count of Chinchon. The missive, dated at Madrid in 1633, condemned in the strongest terms all personal service (that is, forced labour) amongst the Indians, not only of the Jesuit missions, but of Peru and Mexico. With a touching confidence in his own powers, and absolute right Divine, the well-meaning King added to his orders a paragraph commanding all to be done as he had ordered within six months. Strange to find Philip IV., whom Velasquez has immortalized and shown us as he sat upon his horse ineffable, so far away from the Museo del Prado, where alone he ever seems really to have lived. But foolish Governors and Bishops were not the Jesuits’ worst enemies in Paraguay. In 1634 the Provincial, Father Boroa, was shipwrecked in a voyage up the Uruguay, and only saved by the devotion of his neophytes.Sometimes the cruel treatment of the natives by the Spanish settlers was avenged upon the Jesuits. This was the case with a band of Guapalaches, who, coming on Father Espinosa in a wood, attacked and massacred him and all his Indians, and, having cut his body into pieces, left it for the wild beasts to eat. Upon another occasion Father Mendoza fell into an ambuscade, from which he might have escaped had not his horse sunk in a miry stream. Long he defended himself with an Indian shield, but at length was stretched upon the ground and left for dead. During the night he revived, and dragged himself up to some rocks; but the Indians in the morning, following up his trail, came on him praying in a loud voice. They told him that he served a blind God, or at best a powerless God, as He did nothing to defend His servant; then, after torturing him cruelly, they despatched him, and, taking out his heart, said: ‘Let us see if his soul will take the road to heaven.’ These savages do not seem to have been genuinely interested in finding out what became of the soul after the dissolution of the body, for they sat down and made a hearty meal of two young Indians who accompanied the unlucky priest. But they had heard their victim say that when he baptized them it purified their souls, and the last words of Father Mendoza had been to recommend his soul to God. I often wonder if the Christians of to-day, their creed so firmly fixed by the martyrdoms of simple folk, who held their faith without perhaps much reasoning on it, know what they owe to men like Father Christopher Mendoza, slain by the Indians in the Paraguayan woods. Your ancient martyr, fallen out of fashion and forgotten by the Christians of to-day, should have his homage done to him, if only by the chance writer, who in his studies for some subject of no interest to the general world comes on his trail of blood; for martyrdom, no matter how obscure, forgotten by the people of the faith for which the martyr suffered, is a slur not only on the faithful, but on the faith itself. In 1636 occurred the second invasion of the Paulistas, which induced Father Montoya, accompanied by Father Diaz Taño, to go to Europe to seek protection for the Indians both from the King of Spain and from the Pope.The Mamelucos burst into the province of Tapé,[106]and, as the mission of Jesus-Maria (one of the few left undestroyed at the former invasion) was most exposed, Father Romero asked permission of the Governor of the River Plate[107]to make some trenches to defend the place. The Governor consented, but the storm burst on the mission before the defences were in a fit state to defend. The mission priests Antonio Bernal and Juan Cardenas were in the front ranks encouraging the Indians, and both were badly wounded. Fathers Mola and Romero went about ministering to the wounded, but escaped themselves. At last, the Mamelucos having set fire to the church, capitulation became inevitable, and the chief part of the Indians were led away in chains. The same fate would have overtaken the mission of San Cristobal, where father Romero had retreated with some fugitives from Jesus-Maria, had not the people and their priest retreated hastily upon the mission of Santa Ana. But even there they were not long in safety, and had to undertake another perilous journey down the river Iguai. Here a party of passing Mamelucos fell into an ambuscade, and were hewn in pieces, presumably before the Lord. The Mamelucos pushed their advance so far that Father Montoya had given orders that all the missions of that province should be burned. The inhabitants, who trusted him quite blindly, were just about to begin to burn their houses, when an order from the Provincial stopped them from doing so till he himself appeared upon the scene. He arrived, and, gathering up the scattered Indians as far as he was able, left them for safety in some of the missions which had not been destroyed, and set off himself to ask for help from the Governor of Paraguay.Finding no help either from him or from the Governor of the River Plate, he went to Corrientes, and was received almost with contumely. Then, desperate, he equipped an army of the mission Indians, and advanced to fight the Mamelucos; but they had retreated into Brazil, and were beyond his reach. Seeing that nothing was to be hoped from the Spanish Governors, he sent a box of papers in a ship going to Portugal, and laid his case before the Council of the Indies. Montoya and Charlevoix relate that the box was thrown into the sea near Lisbon by some enemy of the Jesuits, but providentially was washed up by the tide, and, being found miraculously, was taken to the King of Spain. Whether this happened as it is written, who shall say? But, in distress, when have good men (before the time of the encyclopædists) been without a miracle to sustain their cause? In the next year (1637) Father Montoya and Taño started upon their mission to Europe, and a new field was opened to Montoya in which to show his talents on the Indians’ behalf.Whilst Father Montoya was in Spain, the Provincial appointed Father Alfaro to take his place. He fell on troublous times, for the Mamelucos were preparing to attack the three remaining missions in the province of Guayrá.[108]As they were not defensible, it was agreed to evacuate them, and to retreat into the provinces upon the Uruguay. When they were just about to start from Santa Teresa, where the inhabitants of the other missions had been collected, the Mamelucos appeared just before Christmas. The Indians were driven off as slaves, and the Mamelucos, with their usual sense of humour, attended Mass as penitents on Christmas Day, with candles in their hands, and listened to the sermon in an edifying way. The priest reproached them for their cruelty, and they, after listening devoutly, gave him the liberty of two choir boys, and quietly left the church.At length the Jesuits, rendered desperate by the perils to which the mission Indians were exposed, armed several bands of Indians and attacked the Mamelucos. But, as was to be expected, the half-armed Indians were always worsted by the well-armed and disciplined Paulista bands, and then the Jesuits took the supreme resolve to evacuate Guayrá entirely, and place the Indians in safety between the rivers Paraná and Uruguay.Formed into three great companies, the Indians started on their second exodus. Although the difficulties were less than in the voyage down the Paraná, still, to march several thousand Indians just emerged from savagery, accompanied by their women and children, and charged with all their possessions, through a wild country, where they were exposed to the attack of a well-armed enemy upon the way, was not an easy task. Father Christobal Arenas formed them into three divisions, leading the first himself; but the Provincial seems to have done most of the organizing, for Charlevoix says that ‘to his courage, prudence, and inalterable kindness,’ the success was due.[109]Courage and prudence and inalterable kindness are the three virtues which have most moved the world; perhaps the last has been most efficacious, and one would hope that in the future it would be the only one of the whole three required.Twelve thousand Indians, not counting women and children, were thus led into a territory[110]between the rivers Uruguay and Paraná, rich, fertile, and, as the distance between the rivers is not above some five-and-twenty miles, defended in some measure, and easily rendered almost impregnable.No one can see the heart of man, and, even if God sees it, He never tells us what is there, so that we are obliged to judge of actions as we find them, and leave the search for motives to omniscients. On the face of it, the Jesuits, both those who led the Indians down the Paraná and those who headed them in this migration to the Mesopotamia between the Uruguay and Paraná, were not impelled by thought of gain; and if a Jesuit must of necessity have some dark scheme behind the smallest action of his life, these men concealed it so deep down within their souls that all the researches of their keenest enemies have not been able to throw light on it. But, even settled in their new homes, the Indians were defenceless against the Mamelucos, as it was a state maxim of the Spanish court that the Indians should never be allowed the use of guns. This was a wise enough precaution, without doubt, for the Indians of the Encomiendas, who lived amongst the Spaniards and owed them personal services; but arms for the Indians of the missions were a necessity of life. Therefore, before he started for Madrid, the Provincial impressed upon Montoya to approach the Council of the Indies and the King, and represent to them that it was impossible to guarantee the existence of the reductions against the Mamelucos unless the Indians were allowed to provide themselves with arms. So Father Montoya, though he was charged to press for various reforms, was most especially impressed upon this point. He was to tell the King that the Indians were not to be allowed to keep their arms themselves, but that they would be kept by the Jesuits, and served out to the Indians in case of an attack; then, that the arms would not cost a penny to the treasury, but be all paid out of the alms collected for the purpose by the Company; lastly, and this was a true stroke of Jesuit policy, that, to instruct the Indians how to shoot, they would bring from Chile certain Jesuits who in the world had served as soldiers. One sees them brought from the frontiers of Araucania, and from the outposts of the trans-Andean towns, half sacristan, half sergeant, instant in prayer, and yet with a look about them like a serious bull terrier—a fitting kind of priest for a frontier town, and such as could alone be found amongst the Jesuits.About this time (1639) the third invasion of the Mamelucos took place, and Father Alfaro, who had been left in charge of the missions on the Uruguay and Paraná, was shot by a Mameluco with a crossbow, and fell dead from his horse. The Governor of Paraguay, on hearing of it, marched with an army, and, having killed two or three hundred of the Mamelucos, took the rest prisoners, and carried them back to Asuncion. There, to the disgust of all the Jesuit historians, he menaced them with the wrath of Heaven and let them go. The feelings of a churchman, when his own privilege is thus usurped, may be compared to those of a strict game-preserver who sees his coverts poached. It is not so much the damage that is done as the personal insult and the humiliation which he suffers in his pride.In this year, too, the Indians of the missions rendered their first armed service to the State which afterwards so often drew on them in its necessity and treated them so ill.The Governor of Buenos Ayres, Don Pedro Estevan Davila, was setting out upon an expedition against a tribe of Indians who had taken refuge in the islands of the Lake Yberá. Eighty of the Indians were sent, and, being well led and armed, contributed considerably towards success. Next year a second contingent was required by the Governor of Tucuman, and duly sent to his assistance. History seems to repeat itself, and foolish soldiers and others never to gain experience; for the Governor (Padre del Techo in his ‘Historia Paraquaiæ’ tells us), having made war in Flanders, could never be dissuaded that the same system was not suitable for warfare in America. Accordingly, he set out in good order, but neglected to send out scouts, and consequently fell into the middle of the Calchaquis strongly entrenched within a marsh, attacked them with a rush, lost heavily, and had to retire to Tucuman. But all this time Father Montoya and Diaz Taño were striving in Rome and at Madrid with the Pope and with the King.Urban VIII., at that time God’s vicegerent for the Christian portion of the world, received Diaz Taño kindly, listened to all he had to say with interest, promised him his help, and gave him a Papal letter menacing the Mamelucos with the wrath of God. From Rome Father Taño went to Madrid, and thence to Lisbon, whence he sailed armed with the protection of the Pope and accompanied by a fresh band of zealous priests. Arrived in Rio de Janeiro, he published the Papal letter, and fixed it on the doors of the Jesuit College and on those of their church. He seems on this occasion to have been wanting in the chief Jesuit virtue, prudence, or at the least he seems to have mistaken the character of the people amongst whom he was. Most of the colonists having relations with the Mamelucos were indignant, and a mob broke in the doors both of the college and of the church. The riot grew so serious that the Governor convoked a council, and cited Father Taño to appear. He came and spoke, and in the eyes of the chief people of the place made out his case; but the multitude, caring not much for reason (and nothing for philanthropy), became more furious, but was appeased at last by a petition being sent in protest to the Pope.But if these things passed in Rio de Janeiro (which Del Techo refers to asoppido sanctorum), what was the fury of the people in San Paulo, the very centre of the Mamelucos, when the Vicar-General published the brief by order of Don Pedro Albornoz! The people rose immediately, and menaced the Vicar-General with instant death unless he instantly withdrew the brief. This he refused to do, although forced on his knees and with a naked sword held at his throat. His courage quieted them, and they drew up an appeal which they tried hard to make him sign, but he again refused. The mob, having demanded the brief, was told it was in the college of the Jesuits. Thither they went post-haste, and were met upon the steps by the Superior, dressed in canonicals and holding the holy wafer in his hand. He spoke, and most of them fell prostrate on the ground before the Body of our Lord. Others stood upright, and said that, whilst they adored the Holy Sacrament with their whole souls, they would not suffer that their slaves, who were their chiefest property, should be set free. An atheist (or some kind of Protestant) cried out to fire upon the priest, but he had no support. The Superior then gave them a copy of the brief, and they returned to the Vicar-General to ask for absolution for any censure of the Church they might have incurred; but he for the third time was obdurate, and let them welter in their sin.The news of the revolution which liberated Portugal from Spain having just reached the town, the Jesuits had to retreat from it, leaving the inhabitants enraged against them and more determined than before to push their forays into Paraguay. But the time was past for their incursions, for Father Ruiz Montoya had prospered at Madrid, and secured even more than he had hoped for when he started on his quest. On arriving at Madrid, which he did after a prosperous journey of four months, he waited on the King (Philip IV.), and laid before him and commissaries chosen from the Indies and Castile the following points:1. That the law of 1611, which provided that no Indians, unless taken in a just war, should be reduced to slavery, should be put into effect.2. That the Pope should be approached to confirm the briefs of Paul III. and Clement VIII., which contained the same provisions.3. That those who did not conform to these instructions should be handed over to the Inquisition to be judged.4. That the Indians who had been enslaved by the Paulistas should be at once set free and the aggressors punished.The King after deliberation granted every point, and, further, regulated the tribute which the Indians were to pay.[111]All this was easy to enact, but, like most other laws, not quite so easy to put into effect. Moreover, as the revolution which separated Portugal from Spain had just occurred, all Spanish thunder against the Mamelucos was of but small account. Montoya then pressed the demand for license to use firearms in self-defence against the Mamelucos. The King after deliberation granted this last point, and from that time the incursions of the Mamelucos ceased in Paraguay and generally throughout the mission territory. Then also there was set on foot that Jesuit militia which rendered such good service to the crown, but was the cause of so much murmuring, as it protected the mission Indians both from the Paulistas and from the inroads of the Spanish colonists.Father Montoya never returned to Paraguay, where he had fought so long and done so much for the poor Indians. Apparently it was not written that he should see the results of all his efforts, for, having embarked at Seville for Peru, he was detained at Lima on business of the Order. From thence he went to Tucuman, and, having returned to Lima, died aged seventy. The Viceroy and the chief members of the Audiencia (with whom he had struggled all his life) accompanied his body to the grave, and it is said that several miracles showed forth the glory he enjoyed in heaven.That may be so, and if they happened (as they well may have done, for, after all, a miracle[112]really exists for those who credit it), if Heaven has honoured him, ’tis more than man has done: for even in Paraguay his name is not remembered, though it remains enshrined in the neglected pages of many a dusty Latin or a Spanish book.But all the time that Fathers Montoya and Diaz Taño were in Europe a serious danger to the Jesuits was growing up. At the discovery of the New World, the Franciscans had been the first of all the Orders to go out. Some had accompanied Columbus, some were with Cortes in Mexico. Almagro and Pizarro’s hosts had their Franciscan chaplains. In his commentaries, Alvar Nuñez relates how he met some of the Order in Brazil. Lastly, the first of all the saints of the New World was a Franciscan.In 1638 the Franciscans in the province of Jujuy[113]disputed with the Jesuits the right to certain missions, accusing them, as Padre del Techo says, ‘of putting their sickle into their ripening corn.’[114]What could be more annoying if it were true? As if a Wesleyan mission in the Paumotus Group should, after having shed its Bibles and its blankets like dry leaves, suddenly find an emissary from Babylon itself arrive and mark the sheep!But from Jujuy the dissensions spread to Paraguay, where the Franciscans had several missions extending from Yuti to Cazapá, thus being almost within touch of the Jesuit Gospellers in Santa Maria, upon the eastern bank of the Tebicuari, which bounds their territory. These jealousies might have gone smouldering on, and never burst out into fire, had not the appointment of a Franciscan to the see of Paraguay caused the flames to flare out fiercely.Had a firebrand been wanted to stir up strife, none better could have been found than Don Bernardino de Cardenas, who was just then appointed to the bishopric of Paraguay.
Spain and Portugal in South America—Enmity between Brazilians and Argentines—Expulsion of Jesuits from Paraguay—Struggles with the natives—Father Mendoza killed—Death of Father Montoya
In the province of Guayrá the Spaniards who had looked with disfavour on the Jesuits, and had enslaved the Indians when they were able, were in sore straits. The Mamelucos, finding no more Indians to enslave, fell on the two towns of Villa Rica and Ciudad Real, destroyed them utterly, and forced the inhabitants to flee for refuge into Paraguay. Thus Guayrá went the way of Matto Grosso and several other provinces of Spain, and became Portuguese. Strangely enough, most of these losses happened when Spain and Portugal were joined under one crown. At home the Spaniards and the Portuguese, however much they detested one another, were forced to keep the peace. In America they were always at war, which ended invariably to the detriment of Spain.[102]The strife begun by the Papal Bull of 1493, in which Pope Alexander VI. divided the territories discovered and to be discovered between Portugal and Spain, went on, till bit by bit Spain was stripped of the provinces of Matto Grosso, Rio Grande, and Guayrá, and found herself drawn into the numerous disputes about the Colonia del Sacramento, which cost so much blood to both contending Powers. Perhaps the most curious and interesting incident of the long struggle was the Three Years’ War, which began in 1750, after the marriage of Ferdinand VI. of Spain with Doña Barbara of Portugal. By the treaty entered into at this marriage, seven of the most flourishing of the missions situated on the left bank of the Uruguay were ceded to Portugal in exchange for La Colonia del Sacramento on the river Plate. The towns resisted change of sovereignty, as Portugal to them was typified by the Paulistas, their most inveterate enemies. The Marquis de Valdelirios in his curious despatches touches much upon this war, but perhaps the best account is to be found in the curious memoir of the Irish Jesuit Father, Tadeo Hennis,[103]who was the backbone of the resisting GuaranÃs.
The ancient enmity of the two nations has been continued in their descendants, the Brazilians and the Argentines and Uruguayans, and little by little Brazil is absorbing all the northern portion of the Republic of Uruguay. After the retreat under Montoya down the Paraná, the Jesuit missions, especially in Paraguay and what is now the province of Corrientes, for some time enjoyed a period of peace and of repose, and the strange policy of the Jesuits was developed, and township after township arose amongst the GuaranÃs (1630-31). But there was still no rest for Ruiz Montoya, who was of those who rest but in the grave. In 1632, at the instance of the Governor and magistrates of the township of Jerez, Montoya sent Fathers Jean Rançonier and Mansilla to the north of Paraguay to found a mission amongst the Itatines, a forest-dwelling tribe. Their territory was marshy and the climate bad, and woods of indiarubber-trees covered all the land. Fathers del Techo and Charlevoix both speak of the ‘rebounding balls’ with which they played, which, thrown upon the ground, start up again as if they were filled with air. This is, perhaps, one of the first times that indiarubber is mentioned, though in some places Jean de Léry[104]seems to indicate he was acquainted with its use.
The Jesuits found that to make progress was not easy with these Indians, who willingly enough listened to their preaching, but refused to alter their social habits, to which the Jesuits ascribe the fact that even then their numbers were diminishing. Like most of the Indians of America, they were polygamists, which custom in their race operates differently to polygamy amongst the negroes: for whereas they seem to increase and thrive, the Indians even at the conquest often tended to become extinct. When a headman amongst the Itatines died, a number of his followers jumped down precipices to accompany him upon his journey to a better world. This custom and polygamy gave much trouble to the Jesuits, but their most admirable patience and knowledge of mankind helped them to overcome them by degrees. All was about to flourish in the mission, when one Acosta, a Brazilian priest, appeared. Perhaps he was in league with the Paulistas, or perhaps was jealous of the Jesuits, for he tried hard to lead a number of the Indians to San Paulo to show them (as he said) how they should follow the true law of God.[105]
The Itatines, either suspecting that Acosta’s true law was false, or tired of his preaching, rose and killed him; but the effect was bad, and there grew up amongst those infidels a coldness even towards the Jesuits themselves. Had it not been for two miraculous events which happened opportunely, as such things should happen if they are to be turned to good account, much harm might have been done. A chief, having cursed a priest, was seized at once with a malignant ulcer in the throat, which shortly killed him. The Itatines did not apparently think anything of the influence of the unhealthy climate in which they lived, and set the occurrence down to the act of God.
But more was still to come. Another chief having so far forgotten himself as to jeer at a priest, a thunderbolt fell so close to him that he was knocked senseless, and lay as dead. These two events confirmed the Jesuits’ power, and things began to flourish in their four new missions. But the Great Power, so careful of the individual effort of His priests, seems to have been most unaccountably remiss of their success considered as a whole. In the same year (1632) the Mamelucos appeared and ruined all the four missions, so that the efforts of the Jesuits and the miracles were lost.
In 1633 the first skirmish took place between the Bishop of Paraguay and the Jesuits. This skirmish little by little grew into a war, kept up for more than a hundred years, and ended finally in the expulsion of the Jesuits from Paraguay. The Governor, Don Luis de Cespedes, having called upon the Indians of the Jesuit missions for personal service, a proceeding quite against both the King’s orders and the Papal Bulls, the Bishop thought the moment opportune to press for tithes. This, too, was equally forbidden both by a Bull and by an order of the Council of the Indies. Padre Romero went to Asuncion and displayed his Bulls and his orders of the Council, and the Governor withdrew his claims. The Bishop, after some opposition, withdrew likewise, and the Provincial of the Order arrived at Asuncion, bringing with him an order from the King signifying that the Indians of the reductions were to be left entirely to the Jesuits. So for the present the Jesuits scored a victory, though in the future it was to cost them dear. But the Governor of Paraguay having returned apparently to his design of exacting personal service from the Indians of the missions, the Provincial checkmated him with a royal order from Philip IV. The order was addressed to the Viceroy of Peru, the fourth Count of Chinchon. The missive, dated at Madrid in 1633, condemned in the strongest terms all personal service (that is, forced labour) amongst the Indians, not only of the Jesuit missions, but of Peru and Mexico. With a touching confidence in his own powers, and absolute right Divine, the well-meaning King added to his orders a paragraph commanding all to be done as he had ordered within six months. Strange to find Philip IV., whom Velasquez has immortalized and shown us as he sat upon his horse ineffable, so far away from the Museo del Prado, where alone he ever seems really to have lived. But foolish Governors and Bishops were not the Jesuits’ worst enemies in Paraguay. In 1634 the Provincial, Father Boroa, was shipwrecked in a voyage up the Uruguay, and only saved by the devotion of his neophytes.
Sometimes the cruel treatment of the natives by the Spanish settlers was avenged upon the Jesuits. This was the case with a band of Guapalaches, who, coming on Father Espinosa in a wood, attacked and massacred him and all his Indians, and, having cut his body into pieces, left it for the wild beasts to eat. Upon another occasion Father Mendoza fell into an ambuscade, from which he might have escaped had not his horse sunk in a miry stream. Long he defended himself with an Indian shield, but at length was stretched upon the ground and left for dead. During the night he revived, and dragged himself up to some rocks; but the Indians in the morning, following up his trail, came on him praying in a loud voice. They told him that he served a blind God, or at best a powerless God, as He did nothing to defend His servant; then, after torturing him cruelly, they despatched him, and, taking out his heart, said: ‘Let us see if his soul will take the road to heaven.’ These savages do not seem to have been genuinely interested in finding out what became of the soul after the dissolution of the body, for they sat down and made a hearty meal of two young Indians who accompanied the unlucky priest. But they had heard their victim say that when he baptized them it purified their souls, and the last words of Father Mendoza had been to recommend his soul to God. I often wonder if the Christians of to-day, their creed so firmly fixed by the martyrdoms of simple folk, who held their faith without perhaps much reasoning on it, know what they owe to men like Father Christopher Mendoza, slain by the Indians in the Paraguayan woods. Your ancient martyr, fallen out of fashion and forgotten by the Christians of to-day, should have his homage done to him, if only by the chance writer, who in his studies for some subject of no interest to the general world comes on his trail of blood; for martyrdom, no matter how obscure, forgotten by the people of the faith for which the martyr suffered, is a slur not only on the faithful, but on the faith itself. In 1636 occurred the second invasion of the Paulistas, which induced Father Montoya, accompanied by Father Diaz Taño, to go to Europe to seek protection for the Indians both from the King of Spain and from the Pope.
The Mamelucos burst into the province of Tapé,[106]and, as the mission of Jesus-Maria (one of the few left undestroyed at the former invasion) was most exposed, Father Romero asked permission of the Governor of the River Plate[107]to make some trenches to defend the place. The Governor consented, but the storm burst on the mission before the defences were in a fit state to defend. The mission priests Antonio Bernal and Juan Cardenas were in the front ranks encouraging the Indians, and both were badly wounded. Fathers Mola and Romero went about ministering to the wounded, but escaped themselves. At last, the Mamelucos having set fire to the church, capitulation became inevitable, and the chief part of the Indians were led away in chains. The same fate would have overtaken the mission of San Cristobal, where father Romero had retreated with some fugitives from Jesus-Maria, had not the people and their priest retreated hastily upon the mission of Santa Ana. But even there they were not long in safety, and had to undertake another perilous journey down the river Iguai. Here a party of passing Mamelucos fell into an ambuscade, and were hewn in pieces, presumably before the Lord. The Mamelucos pushed their advance so far that Father Montoya had given orders that all the missions of that province should be burned. The inhabitants, who trusted him quite blindly, were just about to begin to burn their houses, when an order from the Provincial stopped them from doing so till he himself appeared upon the scene. He arrived, and, gathering up the scattered Indians as far as he was able, left them for safety in some of the missions which had not been destroyed, and set off himself to ask for help from the Governor of Paraguay.
Finding no help either from him or from the Governor of the River Plate, he went to Corrientes, and was received almost with contumely. Then, desperate, he equipped an army of the mission Indians, and advanced to fight the Mamelucos; but they had retreated into Brazil, and were beyond his reach. Seeing that nothing was to be hoped from the Spanish Governors, he sent a box of papers in a ship going to Portugal, and laid his case before the Council of the Indies. Montoya and Charlevoix relate that the box was thrown into the sea near Lisbon by some enemy of the Jesuits, but providentially was washed up by the tide, and, being found miraculously, was taken to the King of Spain. Whether this happened as it is written, who shall say? But, in distress, when have good men (before the time of the encyclopædists) been without a miracle to sustain their cause? In the next year (1637) Father Montoya and Taño started upon their mission to Europe, and a new field was opened to Montoya in which to show his talents on the Indians’ behalf.
Whilst Father Montoya was in Spain, the Provincial appointed Father Alfaro to take his place. He fell on troublous times, for the Mamelucos were preparing to attack the three remaining missions in the province of Guayrá.[108]As they were not defensible, it was agreed to evacuate them, and to retreat into the provinces upon the Uruguay. When they were just about to start from Santa Teresa, where the inhabitants of the other missions had been collected, the Mamelucos appeared just before Christmas. The Indians were driven off as slaves, and the Mamelucos, with their usual sense of humour, attended Mass as penitents on Christmas Day, with candles in their hands, and listened to the sermon in an edifying way. The priest reproached them for their cruelty, and they, after listening devoutly, gave him the liberty of two choir boys, and quietly left the church.
At length the Jesuits, rendered desperate by the perils to which the mission Indians were exposed, armed several bands of Indians and attacked the Mamelucos. But, as was to be expected, the half-armed Indians were always worsted by the well-armed and disciplined Paulista bands, and then the Jesuits took the supreme resolve to evacuate Guayrá entirely, and place the Indians in safety between the rivers Paraná and Uruguay.
Formed into three great companies, the Indians started on their second exodus. Although the difficulties were less than in the voyage down the Paraná, still, to march several thousand Indians just emerged from savagery, accompanied by their women and children, and charged with all their possessions, through a wild country, where they were exposed to the attack of a well-armed enemy upon the way, was not an easy task. Father Christobal Arenas formed them into three divisions, leading the first himself; but the Provincial seems to have done most of the organizing, for Charlevoix says that ‘to his courage, prudence, and inalterable kindness,’ the success was due.[109]
Courage and prudence and inalterable kindness are the three virtues which have most moved the world; perhaps the last has been most efficacious, and one would hope that in the future it would be the only one of the whole three required.
Twelve thousand Indians, not counting women and children, were thus led into a territory[110]between the rivers Uruguay and Paraná, rich, fertile, and, as the distance between the rivers is not above some five-and-twenty miles, defended in some measure, and easily rendered almost impregnable.
No one can see the heart of man, and, even if God sees it, He never tells us what is there, so that we are obliged to judge of actions as we find them, and leave the search for motives to omniscients. On the face of it, the Jesuits, both those who led the Indians down the Paraná and those who headed them in this migration to the Mesopotamia between the Uruguay and Paraná, were not impelled by thought of gain; and if a Jesuit must of necessity have some dark scheme behind the smallest action of his life, these men concealed it so deep down within their souls that all the researches of their keenest enemies have not been able to throw light on it. But, even settled in their new homes, the Indians were defenceless against the Mamelucos, as it was a state maxim of the Spanish court that the Indians should never be allowed the use of guns. This was a wise enough precaution, without doubt, for the Indians of the Encomiendas, who lived amongst the Spaniards and owed them personal services; but arms for the Indians of the missions were a necessity of life. Therefore, before he started for Madrid, the Provincial impressed upon Montoya to approach the Council of the Indies and the King, and represent to them that it was impossible to guarantee the existence of the reductions against the Mamelucos unless the Indians were allowed to provide themselves with arms. So Father Montoya, though he was charged to press for various reforms, was most especially impressed upon this point. He was to tell the King that the Indians were not to be allowed to keep their arms themselves, but that they would be kept by the Jesuits, and served out to the Indians in case of an attack; then, that the arms would not cost a penny to the treasury, but be all paid out of the alms collected for the purpose by the Company; lastly, and this was a true stroke of Jesuit policy, that, to instruct the Indians how to shoot, they would bring from Chile certain Jesuits who in the world had served as soldiers. One sees them brought from the frontiers of Araucania, and from the outposts of the trans-Andean towns, half sacristan, half sergeant, instant in prayer, and yet with a look about them like a serious bull terrier—a fitting kind of priest for a frontier town, and such as could alone be found amongst the Jesuits.
About this time (1639) the third invasion of the Mamelucos took place, and Father Alfaro, who had been left in charge of the missions on the Uruguay and Paraná, was shot by a Mameluco with a crossbow, and fell dead from his horse. The Governor of Paraguay, on hearing of it, marched with an army, and, having killed two or three hundred of the Mamelucos, took the rest prisoners, and carried them back to Asuncion. There, to the disgust of all the Jesuit historians, he menaced them with the wrath of Heaven and let them go. The feelings of a churchman, when his own privilege is thus usurped, may be compared to those of a strict game-preserver who sees his coverts poached. It is not so much the damage that is done as the personal insult and the humiliation which he suffers in his pride.
In this year, too, the Indians of the missions rendered their first armed service to the State which afterwards so often drew on them in its necessity and treated them so ill.
The Governor of Buenos Ayres, Don Pedro Estevan Davila, was setting out upon an expedition against a tribe of Indians who had taken refuge in the islands of the Lake Yberá. Eighty of the Indians were sent, and, being well led and armed, contributed considerably towards success. Next year a second contingent was required by the Governor of Tucuman, and duly sent to his assistance. History seems to repeat itself, and foolish soldiers and others never to gain experience; for the Governor (Padre del Techo in his ‘Historia Paraquaiæ’ tells us), having made war in Flanders, could never be dissuaded that the same system was not suitable for warfare in America. Accordingly, he set out in good order, but neglected to send out scouts, and consequently fell into the middle of the Calchaquis strongly entrenched within a marsh, attacked them with a rush, lost heavily, and had to retire to Tucuman. But all this time Father Montoya and Diaz Taño were striving in Rome and at Madrid with the Pope and with the King.
Urban VIII., at that time God’s vicegerent for the Christian portion of the world, received Diaz Taño kindly, listened to all he had to say with interest, promised him his help, and gave him a Papal letter menacing the Mamelucos with the wrath of God. From Rome Father Taño went to Madrid, and thence to Lisbon, whence he sailed armed with the protection of the Pope and accompanied by a fresh band of zealous priests. Arrived in Rio de Janeiro, he published the Papal letter, and fixed it on the doors of the Jesuit College and on those of their church. He seems on this occasion to have been wanting in the chief Jesuit virtue, prudence, or at the least he seems to have mistaken the character of the people amongst whom he was. Most of the colonists having relations with the Mamelucos were indignant, and a mob broke in the doors both of the college and of the church. The riot grew so serious that the Governor convoked a council, and cited Father Taño to appear. He came and spoke, and in the eyes of the chief people of the place made out his case; but the multitude, caring not much for reason (and nothing for philanthropy), became more furious, but was appeased at last by a petition being sent in protest to the Pope.
But if these things passed in Rio de Janeiro (which Del Techo refers to asoppido sanctorum), what was the fury of the people in San Paulo, the very centre of the Mamelucos, when the Vicar-General published the brief by order of Don Pedro Albornoz! The people rose immediately, and menaced the Vicar-General with instant death unless he instantly withdrew the brief. This he refused to do, although forced on his knees and with a naked sword held at his throat. His courage quieted them, and they drew up an appeal which they tried hard to make him sign, but he again refused. The mob, having demanded the brief, was told it was in the college of the Jesuits. Thither they went post-haste, and were met upon the steps by the Superior, dressed in canonicals and holding the holy wafer in his hand. He spoke, and most of them fell prostrate on the ground before the Body of our Lord. Others stood upright, and said that, whilst they adored the Holy Sacrament with their whole souls, they would not suffer that their slaves, who were their chiefest property, should be set free. An atheist (or some kind of Protestant) cried out to fire upon the priest, but he had no support. The Superior then gave them a copy of the brief, and they returned to the Vicar-General to ask for absolution for any censure of the Church they might have incurred; but he for the third time was obdurate, and let them welter in their sin.
The news of the revolution which liberated Portugal from Spain having just reached the town, the Jesuits had to retreat from it, leaving the inhabitants enraged against them and more determined than before to push their forays into Paraguay. But the time was past for their incursions, for Father Ruiz Montoya had prospered at Madrid, and secured even more than he had hoped for when he started on his quest. On arriving at Madrid, which he did after a prosperous journey of four months, he waited on the King (Philip IV.), and laid before him and commissaries chosen from the Indies and Castile the following points:
1. That the law of 1611, which provided that no Indians, unless taken in a just war, should be reduced to slavery, should be put into effect.
2. That the Pope should be approached to confirm the briefs of Paul III. and Clement VIII., which contained the same provisions.
3. That those who did not conform to these instructions should be handed over to the Inquisition to be judged.
4. That the Indians who had been enslaved by the Paulistas should be at once set free and the aggressors punished.
The King after deliberation granted every point, and, further, regulated the tribute which the Indians were to pay.[111]All this was easy to enact, but, like most other laws, not quite so easy to put into effect. Moreover, as the revolution which separated Portugal from Spain had just occurred, all Spanish thunder against the Mamelucos was of but small account. Montoya then pressed the demand for license to use firearms in self-defence against the Mamelucos. The King after deliberation granted this last point, and from that time the incursions of the Mamelucos ceased in Paraguay and generally throughout the mission territory. Then also there was set on foot that Jesuit militia which rendered such good service to the crown, but was the cause of so much murmuring, as it protected the mission Indians both from the Paulistas and from the inroads of the Spanish colonists.
Father Montoya never returned to Paraguay, where he had fought so long and done so much for the poor Indians. Apparently it was not written that he should see the results of all his efforts, for, having embarked at Seville for Peru, he was detained at Lima on business of the Order. From thence he went to Tucuman, and, having returned to Lima, died aged seventy. The Viceroy and the chief members of the Audiencia (with whom he had struggled all his life) accompanied his body to the grave, and it is said that several miracles showed forth the glory he enjoyed in heaven.
That may be so, and if they happened (as they well may have done, for, after all, a miracle[112]really exists for those who credit it), if Heaven has honoured him, ’tis more than man has done: for even in Paraguay his name is not remembered, though it remains enshrined in the neglected pages of many a dusty Latin or a Spanish book.
But all the time that Fathers Montoya and Diaz Taño were in Europe a serious danger to the Jesuits was growing up. At the discovery of the New World, the Franciscans had been the first of all the Orders to go out. Some had accompanied Columbus, some were with Cortes in Mexico. Almagro and Pizarro’s hosts had their Franciscan chaplains. In his commentaries, Alvar Nuñez relates how he met some of the Order in Brazil. Lastly, the first of all the saints of the New World was a Franciscan.
In 1638 the Franciscans in the province of Jujuy[113]disputed with the Jesuits the right to certain missions, accusing them, as Padre del Techo says, ‘of putting their sickle into their ripening corn.’[114]What could be more annoying if it were true? As if a Wesleyan mission in the Paumotus Group should, after having shed its Bibles and its blankets like dry leaves, suddenly find an emissary from Babylon itself arrive and mark the sheep!
But from Jujuy the dissensions spread to Paraguay, where the Franciscans had several missions extending from Yuti to Cazapá, thus being almost within touch of the Jesuit Gospellers in Santa Maria, upon the eastern bank of the Tebicuari, which bounds their territory. These jealousies might have gone smouldering on, and never burst out into fire, had not the appointment of a Franciscan to the see of Paraguay caused the flames to flare out fiercely.
Had a firebrand been wanted to stir up strife, none better could have been found than Don Bernardino de Cardenas, who was just then appointed to the bishopric of Paraguay.