“So,” Merlin mused, “he has come to be the great man he thought he wanted to be. If this is true, then he is not a man. He is still a little boy and wants the moon. I suppose he is rather unhappy about it. Those who say children are happy, forget their childhood. I wonder how long he can stave off manhood.
“Robert, have you seen those great black ants which are born with wings? They fly a day or two, then drop their wings and fall upon the ground to crawl for all their lives.
I wonder when your son will drop his wings. Is it not strange, Robert, how, among men, this crawling is revered-how children tear at their wings, so they may indulge in this magnificent crawling?”
“What makes boys grow to men?” Robert asked. “What circumstance rots out their wing roots?”
“Why, a great many never have wings, and some tear them off for themselves; some are sudden things and others very tedious. I do not know them all, but mine was ridicule-a kind of self-ridicule. I loved a small girl in the valley, and I suppose she was beautiful. I hope I was handsome. I made a song for her and called her the Bride of Orpheus. I rather fancied myself Orpheus, then. But she considered marriage with a deity as some manner of a crime against nature. She lectured me. Every man, so she said, owed it to something or other-his family or his community or himself, I forget just what-to make a success of himself. She was vague as to the nature of success, but she made it very plain that song was not a structure of success. And deities she abhorred, especially pagan deities. There was a man with lands and houses who was reassuringly human. Even in my old age I think spitefully that he was deplorably human.
So they were married, and ridicule gnawed off my wings.
“I paraded murder and suicide and fields of glory through my mind to fight this little paining ridicule. In my shame, I thought to lock up my songs from the world, so that never again might people hear them.
The world did not even know when I was gone. No little groups of people came to plead with me to return-and I had promised the ridicule they would. My bitten wings dropped; I was a man and did not want the moon. And when I tried to sing again, my voice had grown husky like a drover’s voice, and my songs were thick with forethoughts and plannings.”
“I wonder how I grew,” Robert said. “I do not remember.
Perhaps my youth went out of me sticking to coins-or perhaps it lives in those lands I used to dream of. But is swimming in his dreams, and sometimes I am very jealous of him.
“Do you know, Merlin, there is a thing which has appeared strange to me. My mother, Gwenliana, thought she had the second sight, and we humored her because she took such joy of it. And on the night that Henry went away, she cast a picture of his life. Merlin, nearly all her words have come to be the truth. Can these thoughts have come on her like a series of bright paintings? It is a strange, unlikely thing.”
“Perhaps she read his desire, Robert, and sensed the strength of his desire. I taught old Gwenliana many things which had to do with magic; she was very apt at reading signs-and faces.”
Old Robert rose to stretch himself. “Ah, well-I must be going now. It takes a weary time for such an aged man to be getting down the path. It will be night when I am home again. Here is William coming with his pick which was an appendage born to him. I will be going down a bit in his company and learning the way of things at London. You must love words, Merlin, to be making so many of them; and I must love pain, to be engendering it against myself.
“And, Merlin, I think you are a trickster and a fraud; every time I have gone away from you it has been with the conviction that you have said mighty things, yet, on thinking, I could never recall any of them. I think you work a subtle conjuring with the soft voice of you, and your harps.”
And as he went down the path, the hanging harps crooned after him the Sorcerer’s Farewell.
CHAPTER IV
PANAMAwas a great, lovely city in 1670 when Henry Morgan determined on its destruction; a rich, strong city, and justly called the Cup of Gold. No place in all the raw New World could compare with it in beauty and in wealth.
Over a century before, Balboa had come to the shore of a new ocean. He dressed himself in scoured armor and waded into the Pacific until the gentle water washed his thighs. Then, in an oration, he firmly addressed the sea and claimed all lands it broke on for the crown of Spain. He demanded that the water be tractable and loyal, for it was to be the honored privatelakeof Castile and Aragon.
Behind Balboa, on the shore, huddled a small grass village of the Indians, and its name was Panama. In the native tongue this signified a place of good fishing. When the soldiers of Spain put torch to the litter of huts, and in its place built a new town, they kept the old name, Panama, which is a song. And soon the meaning justified itself, for out of this little town the nets of Spain were flung to the four directions.
Pedrarias carried the nets to the north and enmeshed the cities of the ancient Mayan race. He was enabled, of his fishing, to send strangely wrought serpents and frightful images and tiny graven insects, all of gold, to Panama. When there were no more ornaments to gather, when the temples were vacant boxes of stone, then Pedrarias threw the net of Spain over the people and drove them into the mines under his whips.
Pizarro sailed to the southward with horses and armored men, and the powerful Inca nation fell before him. He killed the rulers and ripped the life from the governmental structure. Then diamonds, plates from the temple walls, symbols of the sun in gold, and ceremonial golden shields were shipped to Panama.
And Pizarro forced the broken Inca people into the mines with whips.
A hundred captains led little bands of soldiers to the east and southeast where the fierce Indians of Darien lived in trees and caves. Here the Spanish men found nose rings and anklets and god-sticks and eagle quills filled with gold. Everything was dumped into sacks and carried on mule-back to Panama.
When all the graves had been robbed of golden ornaments, even the wild Indians dug in the earth by authority of the whips.
The ships of Spain discovered little islands to the westward in whose shallow bays pearls might be found if only one dived deep enough; and in a little time the dull folk of the islands were jumping into a sea where sharks lived. And bags of pearls found their way to Panama.
All the long workings, the craftsmanship in precious things, came at last to Panama, where the melting pots received them like glowing gourmands and transformed them to thick golden logs. The warehouses were piled high with the sticks of gold, waiting for the treasure fleet to sail for Spain. At times there were bars of silver tiered up in the streets for lack of warehouse room, but they were safe from thievery in their weight.
Meanwhile the city grew to be a glorious thing. The wealth of enslaved nations was put to building thousands of fine houses with red roofs and little inset patios where rare secret flowers grew. All the colored arts and comforts of old Europe flew westward to beautify the Panamanian houses at the call of golden lumps.
The first Spaniards to invade the country had been cruel, grasping robbers; but also they were soldiers whom no bloody prospect might frighten. Small bands of them captured the New World with little force save spiritual courage.
But when the peoples of Nicaragua and Peru and Darien had become gangs of whimpering slaves, when there was no danger any more, a different breed of men came to live in Panama. These were the merchants, keenly decisive when there was a farm to be wrested by law from its owner, or when the price of food was raised for outland colonists, but fearful and cowardly when steel was rattling about on steel.
The merchant class soon dominated all the isthmus. Some of the soldiers had died; others grew restless in security and marched away to new, dangerous lands, leaving the battle of foodstuffs and extravagances in the hands of the traders who doled out flour and wine, and gathered, in return, jewels and bars of gold for their coffers. The merchants combined so that all might charge the same high price for food, and with the profits they built their cedar houses roof
ed with rosy tiles; they dressed their women in foreign silks and were followed about in the streets by bands of retaining slaves.
A company of Genoese slave dealers came to the city and built a large warehouse for their merchandise.
In it were tiers of cages where the black men sat until they were brought into the light to be felt over and bargained for.
It was a lovely city, Panama. Two thousand great cedarn houses lined its principal streets, and farther from the center were five thousand smaller dwellings for clerks and messengers and paid soldiers of the King. Clustering in the outskirts were innumerable thatched huts where the slaves were quartered. In the center of the town were six churches, two convents, and a tall cathedral, all with full gold services and vestments heavy with jewels. Already two saints had lived and died in Panama-not major saints, perhaps, but of enough importance to make their bones valuable.
One whole section of the city was crowded with the houses and stables and barracks of the King. Here, one-tenth of all the produce of the land was stored, waiting for the next plate fleet, when it would be carried on donkeyback across the isthmus to be loaded on the ship. Panama was supporting thekingdomof Spain-paying for the King’s new palaces and wars. Because of the ready money in his treasury, the King gave Panama a seat of dignity. It bore a proud name: The Very Noble and Very Loyal City of Panama. Its rank was made equal with that of Cordova and Seville, for did not its officials wear golden chains of office about their necks? And the King granted to the city a resplendent coat of arms-a shield in a field of gold on the left yoke, and on the right, two caravels and a handful of gray arrows.
Above all was the north star of discovery, while the Lions and Castles of the twin Spanish kingdoms circled around the shield. Truly Panama was one of the greatest cities in the world.
The center of the Cup of Gold was a broad, paved plaza with a raised stand in the middle where music was played in the evening. While it played, the people strolled about, proving their positions by those to whom they spoke; the merchant aristocracy was very tender in its pride. A man might argue over the price of flour like a Jew in the daytime, but at night, in the Plaza, he bowed stiffly to acquaintances not so rich as he, and imperceptibly fawned on those richer.
They had grown soft in their security. The city was considered impregnable. On one side the sea protected it, and there were no foreign ships on the southern ocean anyway; to the landward side were walls and a broad morass which might be flooded in time of danger, making the city a veritable island. In addition, an attacking army must cut its way through the isthmian jungle to approach in force, must wind through narrow passes which might easily be defended by a small body of men. No one considered it possible that any sane leader could dream of the conquest of Panama. And so, when Campeche and Puerto Bello and Maracaibo fell to the buccaneers, the merchants of the Cup of Gold shrugged their shoulders and went about their usual business. It was unfortunate, of course; indeed it was sad that their own countrymen should be so used and robbed-but what could they expect? Their cities were on the wrong ocean. Panama need never think of these disturbances except with pity. God was good, and business-well, terrible; no money any more, and the farmers hanging on to their goods like thieves.
Don Juan Perez de Guzman was Governor of the Cup of Gold-a quiet nobleman whose life was devoted to being a complete gentleman and nothing else. He drilled his little army, changed his uniforms, and looked with care to the marriages of his relatives. He had been a soldier all his life-not a good campaigner, perhaps, but an extremely gallant officer. The communications he wrote to his subordinates were magnificent. His wording of a demand for surrender by an Indian village was above reproach. The people loved their Governor. He dressed so well; he was so proud, yet condescending. They cheered him daily as he clattered down the street with a troop of horse behind him. If there were any apprehension of attack, surely the gallant figure of Don Juan would reassure the people. His were the noblest blood and the richest warehouses in the city.
Thus they lived happily in Panama, going to the green country places when the hot days were in, and returning to the balls and receptions of the town during the rainy season.
And this was the Cup of Gold when Henry Morgan determined on its destruction.
One day the news crept into Panama that the terrible Morgan was coming in conquest. At first there was amused unbelief, but when more messengers came in, the city roused itself to frantic activity. The people rushed to the churches, confessed, kissed relics, and rushed home again. Hundreds of priests marched in procession bearing the Host through the streets. The dark brotherhood fiercely whipped themselves and dragged the heavy cross about for every one to see. The broken walls went unmended; the rusty cannons were not replaced. Don Juan heard mass after mass, spoke to the frenzied people, and suggested a procession of all the priests in the city.
Horrible stories began to grow up-how the buccaneers were not men at all, but animal things with heads like crocodiles and lions’ claws. Grave men discussed such possibilities in the streets.
“The blessing of the day, Don Pedro.”
“The Virgin’s blessing, Don Guierrmo.”
“What is your thought of these robbers?”
“Ah! horrible, Don Guierrmo; horrible. They are said to be demons!”
“But do you think it possible, as I have heard, that Morgan himself has three arms and wields a sword in each?”
“Who can say, my friend! The devil has even greater powers than these, surely. Who can tell the limit of the Power of Evil? It is sacrilegious to consider it.”.
And later: “You say you had it of Don Guierrmo? Surely he would not tell a questionable thing-a man of his wealth.”
“I repeat only what he said-that Morgan could fire bullets from his fingertips-that he breathed out sulphurous flames. Don Guierrmo was certain of it.”
“I must tell my wife of this, Don Pedro.”
So the tales grew until the people were half mad. Stories of cruelty in other captured cities were recalled, and the merchants who had shrugged before, turned pale on remembering.
They could not believe; and yet they must believe, for the pirates were already on their way to Chagres, and their stated purpose was the conquest and pillage of the Cup of Gold. At last, under pressure, Don Juan dragged himself from church long enough to send five hundred soldiers for an ambush on the road across the isthmus. A young officer craved audience.
“Well, young man,” the Governor began, “what is your wish? “
“If we had bulls, sir-if we had great numbers of wild bulls,” the officer cried excitedly.
“Get them! Have the whole country scoured for bulls! Let the men gather a thousand of them! But what are we going to do with them? “
“We should stampede them on the enemy, sir. “
“Marvelous plan! Genius of an officer! Ah, my dear friend-a thousand bulls? A thousand? I jested.
Have them gather ten thousand of the wildest bulls. “
The Governor ordered out his soldiers-two thousand of the King’s troops-reviewed them, and then returned to kneel in the Cathedral. Don Juan was not afraid of fighting, but, like a prudent general, he was strengthening secondary defense. Besides, anything that cost as much as the masses he had paid for must have some effect.
The first creeping rumor grew to a monster. Quaking citizens began to bury the plate from their houses.
The churchmen threw chalices and candlesticks into the cisterns for safety, and walled up their more precious relics in passages underground.
Balboa would have strengthened the walls and flooded the approach. Pizarro’s army would have been halfway across the isthmus, by this time, to meet the oncoming buccaneers.
But those brave times were past. The merchants of Panama thought only of their possessions, their lives, and their souls-in the order named. They never considered belting on swords or toiling at the disintegrated walls. That was for the soldiers of the King, who were paid good money to prot
ect the citizens. The Governor must see to the defense.
Don Juan had reviewed his troops; that, to his mind, was all any general could do. The uniforms were proof against criticism, and his soldiers would have come with credit through any parade ground in Europe. Meanwhile, another mass would not hurt matters.
While the buccaneers were throwing away the savings of plundered Maracaibo, Henry Morgan plunged deeply into plans for his new conquest. It would require more fighting men than had ever before been assembled. The messengers of Captain Morgan went out to the four corners of the Spanish Main. His words found their way to Plymouth, and Nieuw Amsterdam. Even to the wooded islands where men lived like apes, went his invitation to the great pillage.
“Every man will be rich if we succeed”; so ran the message.
“This will be the most powerful blow ever struck by the Brotherhood. We will carry terror to the inmost heart of Spain. Our fleet gathers on the south side of Tortuga by October.”
And soon the ships and men poured to the place of rendezvous; enormous new vessels with white sails and carven prows, ships bristling with brass cannons, old rotting hulks, their bottoms so foul with weeds that they moved through the water like logs. There came sloops and long canoes and flatboats, forced through the water with sweeps. Even rafts drew to the meeting place, under woven palm sails.
And the men-all the blustering Brotherhood of Tortuga; the old, expert pirates of Goaves; Frenchmen, Netherlanders, English, and Portuguese-the embattled outcasts of the world. Canoe loads of slaves who had escaped the Spaniards paddled in, drawn to this expedition by a thirsting for their master’s blood. The slaves were Caribs and Negroes and fevered whites. Little groups of hunters appeared on the beaches of jungle islands and took ship for the south side of Tortuga.
Among the major ships were tall frigates and galleons which had been captured in old engagements.
When the time came for departure, Captain Morgan had thirty-seven ships under his hand, and two thousand fighting men in addition to the mariners and boys. In the crowd of shipping lay three slim, clean sloops from New England. They had not come to fight, but to trade-powder for plunder, whisky for gold. Powder and whiskey were the two great weapons of offense. And besides, these Plymouth men would buy old, useless ships for the iron and cordage they contained.
Cup of Gold [Золотая чаша] Page 12
