Up the Orinoco and down the Magdalena

by J. A. Zahm

Whence busy life has fled.”

But we also discern unmistakable signs of an awakening to a new life, and of the dawn of a new era of prosperity and mercantile greatness. Notwithstanding the venerable years in which she is at present arrayed, we can, without being horoscopists, safely presage that the benignant stars are sure to bring

“What fate denies to man,—a second spring.”

To enjoy the best view of Cartagena, one must ascend an eminence to the east of the city called La Popa, from its fancied resemblance to the lofty stern of a fifteenth century ship. There, seated under an umbrageous cocoa palm, fully five hundred feet above the beautiful iris-blue bay that washes the walls that encircle the city, one has before him one of the most charming panoramas in the world; one which during more than three centuries, was the witness of some of the most stirring events in history. In the broad, steep harbor, protected on all sides by frowning fortresses, the Spanish plate-fleets long found refuge from corsairs and sea rovers. It was here, when pirates and buccaneers made it unsafe to transport treasure by the Pacific, that gold and silver were brought from Bolivia to Peru, Ecuador and New Granada by way of the Andean plateau and the Cauca and Magdalena rivers.

One is stupefied when one considers what an expenditure of energy this implied. Think of transporting gold and silver ingots a distance of more than two thousand miles, over the arid deserts of Bolivia and Peru, and across the chilly punas and paramos of the lofty Cordilleras; of securing it against loss in passing along dizzy ravines, across furious torrents, through the almost impenetrable forests of New Granada, often infested by hostile Indians. And remember, that, for a part of this long distance, these heavy burdens had to be carried by human beings, for no other means of transportation were available.

And when one considers the amount of the treasure thus transported from points as distant as the flanks of Potosi and the auriferous deposits of the distant Pilcomayo, the wonder grows apace. According to the estimates of reliable historians, the amount of gold and silver imported into Spain from her American possessions from 1502 to 1775 was no less than the colossal sum of ten billion dollars.[2] Nearly two billions of this treasure were taken from the famous silver mines of Potosi alone. The greater part of the bullion from Peru was shipped by the South Sea to Panama and Nombre de Dios and thence carried to Spain in carefully guarded plate-fleets. But after the pirates and buccaneers became active along the western coast of South America, the ingots of the precious metals, yielded by the mines between Chile and the Caribbean were transported overland and deposited in carefully guarded galleons awaiting them in the harbor of the Queen of the Indies.

But even then the treasure was not safe. It was, indeed, much more exposed on the way from Cartagena to Palos and Cadiz than it had been from the time it had been dispatched from the smelter until its arrival at the great stronghold on the Caribbean. For then, suddenly and without warning, like a flock of vultures that had scented carrion from afar, there gathered from all points of the compass English buccaneers, French filibusters, and Dutch freebooters and harassed the galleons until they succumbed. So successful did these daring sea robbers eventually become that no galleon dared to venture alone on the waters of the Indian seas, and only strongly guarded plate-fleets could hope to escape capture by their alert and venturesome enemies, who swarmed over the Caribbean from the Lesser Antilles to Yucatan, and terrorized the coast of the Spanish Main from one end to the other.

One loves to conjecture what might have been if Charles V or Philip II had been endowed with the genius of a Napoleon or a Cæsar. Masters of the greater part of Europe, and undisputed sovereigns of the major portion of the Western Hemisphere, with untold wealth continually pouring into their treasury, then was the time—the only time, probably, in the history of the modern world—to realize Dante’s fond dream of a universal monarchy. But neither Charles nor Philip had the genius required, and the one opportunity, that ever presented itself, of making Spanish possessions coextensive with the world’s surface, was lost and lost forever.

The sun was rapidly approaching the western horizon when we took our departure from the beautiful and picturesque harbor of the Queen of the Seas. In a short time the coast of what was once known as Castilla del Oro—Golden Castile—had disappeared from our view and the prow of our vessel was directed towards the historic land of Costa Rica—the Rich Coast—discovered by Columbus during his fourth voyage.

The night following our visit to Cartagena was an ideal one, a night for wakeful dreams and the sweet delights of reverie. There was scarcely a ripple on the waters, and the stars of the firmament seemed to shine with an unwonted effulgence. All was peace and tranquillity, and everything seemed to proclaim the joy of living.