Las Casas: "The Apostle of the Indies"

by Alice J. Knight

The returning Dominicans had a terrible trip, and it was January before they landed at the port of Lazaro, in his own diocese. The Spaniards and the Christian Indians came out at once to the ship to greet the Bishop. It must have been a queer crowd: Proud, stately Spaniards, in velvets and laces; blanketed Indians, silent and stolid; naked heathens, eager to see the man whom they knew as their protector! But Las Casas was glad to see them all, and leaving the ship, they all went up together to the church, where after the service the Spaniards came to kiss the episcopal ring, and after them the Indians.

At first the Bishop was received with politeness and apparent kindness, but in spite of this all the Spaniards were resolved to resist the new laws and not to acknowledge Las Casas as their Bishop nor pay him their tithes. This was very awkward, for Las Casas found himself thus unable to pay the captain of the ship in which he and the monks had come, but the friars sold a part of the goods they had brought with them, the parish priest loaned the Bishop some money, and he gave his note for the rest. So that difficulty was settled.

Their troubles had only begun, however. It was not a great distance to Ciudad Real, where they wished to go, but it was impossible to carry their provisions and the equipment for the church by land, so they loaded their baggage on an old, flat-bottomed boat, to go by sea; and twelve of the fathers, with a number of others, went in it. Two days later the Bishop and the rest were ready to sail on a faster boat; but just as they were about to embark, word came that the other boat had been wrecked and nine of the fathers and twenty-seven laymen drowned. Those who had been saved were staying in an Indian village near the shore, and everything they possessed had been lost.

The remaining monks were so alarmed that at first they refused to go by sea, but Las Casas finally persuaded them that, as the skies were clear and their boat a strong, new one, they were in no danger, and the party set out. It was a very sad and downcast little body of men, however. All one night and day they sat, without eating or speaking. When they reached the place where the other boat had been wrecked, the captain pointed out the spot, and the Bishop recited the prayers for the dead. Then he ordered food to be prepared, called them all to come to the table, and set the example by himself eating and talking cheerfully all the time, until his companions' courage was restored.

A gale coming up, the party took refuge behind an island, where they lay for a long time before they could go on; and then, because some of them were still afraid, they divided into two bodies,—the Bishop, his faithful friend and constant companion, Father Ladrada, and two other monks, remaining on the boat, and the rest proceeding by land.

The town of Chiapa was the Indian town of the diocese; Ciudad Real, the Spanish town. It was to the latter that the Bishop went first. The people received him cordially and showed him every outward form of respect. He found but few priests in the whole diocese, four of them in and about Ciudad Real. Of these, one was quite young and had no particular charge, one traveled about from one town to another, baptizing the Indians for the money it brought him; one was a partner in a sugar plantation and spent more time attending to this business than to his clerical duties, and another collected from the owners of plantations and slaves taxes and tribute paid to the crown. The Bishop took all these into his house, to keep them in order, paying them a small salary and giving them their meals at his own table.

Las Casas' manner of living as a bishop was no different from that which he had practiced as a simple monk. His habit was rusty and patched and he ate no meat, though it was provided for his guests: his forks and spoons were of wood, and the dishes of plain earthenware. This simple mode of life did not suit the priests, and two of them left his diocese.

All day Las Casas attended to the work of the diocese, and late into the night he studied and wrote. At all times the Indians had free access to him, coming to him with all their sorrows. Every day they would crowd about him, their faces swollen with weeping and, kissing the hem of his robe, would pour out to him the story of the cruelties from which they suffered. The good Bishop suffered with them and often would be heard in the night, sighing and groaning in his room.

Las Casas preached constantly against the enslaving of the Indians, and rebuked the holders of slaves for their disregard of the new laws. He ordered his clergy to refuse absolution and the sacraments to those who would not obey, which order aroused the anger of the whole community against him. His Dean disobeyed him and sided with the colonists. He was petitioned, threatened, and abused. The children were taught couplets against him, which they sang after him in the street. Some one even discharged a gun into the window of his room one night, to frighten him. All support was withdrawn from the Dominicans, and the Bishop's salary was not paid.