When the news of this revolt of the natives was heard at San Domingo, the officers of the colony resolved to send an expedition to avenge the murder of the Dominicans, and a captain, named Ocampo, was placed in command of it. This force started at once, and had reached Porto Rico when Las Casas and his laborers landed. Perhaps you can imagine how the clerico felt when he knew that Ocampo and his soldiers were going to the very country that had been granted to him for his settlement and were to punish the Indians there, where he had hoped to set up a sort of city of refuge for them. He hurried to show Ocampo his papers ordering that no one should go to that part of the country except Las Casas and the monks, and that the natives were to be in his care and not enslaved.
But although the papers had the royal signature, Ocampo declared that he had had his orders from the officers of the colony at San Domingo, and that he must carry them out; that they would protect him if he was doing anything illegal. In vain did Las Casas storm and plead. It was all of no use. It seemed to him that there was nothing to be done but to go to San Domingo at once and get the officers to recall Ocampo. So he distributed his laborers by twos and threes among the citizens of Porto Rico, and hurried away.
Nobody in San Domingo was glad to see the clerico except his friends the Dominicans. All others were angry with him for what he had been doing at the Spanish court to obtain the freedom of the Indians. They knew, however, that Las Casas was in great favor with the King and his ministers, and so they were afraid to oppose him openly or to defy the royal authority; but they did everything they could to delay matters. They said they would consider; and they considered so long that it soon became useless to talk about recalling Ocampo, for it was too late to reach him. They discovered, also, another way to prevent Las Casas from going on. They found a ship master, engaged in the slave trade, who was only too glad to help them by declaring the clerico's vessel unseaworthy; and he was not allowed to use it. So there he was, helpless and at his wits' end to know what to do.
Meanwhile, Ocampo had reached the Pearl Coast, decoyed a number of the natives on board, and made slaves of them, hanging their chief at the yardarm. He also captured a great many others. Finally, by means of an Indian woman,—who had been taken from Cubagua to Hispaniola and could speak Spanish, and whom he freed for the purpose,—he made peace with the remaining Indians, and began to build a town.
The slaves Ocampo had captured were brought to San Domingo and sold under the clerico's very eyes; nor could he do anything to prevent it, although, as he tells us himself, he "went raging."
He became so angry now, however, that the authorities thought they had better do something to make peace with him. He declared he would go to Spain and tell the King how little attention they paid to the royal commands, and would have them all punished. They knew he was very likely to do just what he said and so at last they went to him with a plan which they hoped would pacify him. They wanted to go with him as partners. That is, they wished to form a company to go and settle the land, all of them contributing toward the expenses and all sharing in the profits. This was a long way from being the sort of colony Las Casas had meant to found; for these men did not care at all for the good of the Indians; all any of them wanted was to make money; but he had not found any men to become Knights of the Golden Spur, and unless he went in this way it looked as if he could not go at all, so he consented.
They fitted out two ships for him, and at last he sailed, stopping at Porto Rico to take on his laborers. But here he had another disappointment: not one of them could be found. They had grown tired of waiting, had heard such stories of the riches to be gained by mining or engaging in the slave trade that they had every one gone off either pirating or chasing Indians or something else equally bad; and Las Casas had to go on without them.
When at length Las Casas reached the land where he had hoped to do such great things for the natives, the Franciscans came joyfully to meet him, chanting Te Deums. Now, they felt, they had a friend and protector. They took him into their little convent,—which was only of wood, thatched with straw,—and into their little garden, where they had orange trees, vines, and melons, and there they talked together of what they should do.
Las Casas built a large storehouse for his goods, and sent word to all the Indians in that part of the country that he had been sent out by the new King of Spain, and that he was their friend and would protect them. They should not be ill-treated any more. He sent presents to them to show that he wished to be friends with them.
Ocampo and his men had had such a hard time that they were not willing to stay there, and all sailed away, leaving Las Casas with only a few servants and one or two helpers. It was not much like the way he had expected to begin his famous settlement. If it had not been for the Franciscans, he would have been lonely indeed.