The Precious Jewel
Two boys were playing a royal game of tennis in the royal tennis court at Madrid in Spain. The rich American boy, Simon de Bolivar, from Venezuela, was serving swift ball after swift ball to Ferdinand, Prince of the Asturias and heir to the Spanish throne. The Queen-mother was looking on.
The Prince saw that he was losing, and grew angry. Bolivar, small, alert, with dark eyes flashing, played on, still winning until the Prince refused to play any longer.
But the Queen-mother sternly bade her son finish the game.
So the Prince had to play on, and he lost.
“Some day,” exclaimed Bolivar in triumph, “I will deprive Prince Ferdinand of the most precious jewel in his Crown!”
Years before this tennis-game, a great thing had happened in Venezuela.
On July 24, 1783, a baby boy was born to a rich, noble citizen of the city of Caracas—a baby destined to deprive Prince Ferdinand of the most precious jewel in his Crown.
He was christened Simon Jose Antonio de la Santisima Trinidad de Bolivar, and with his mother’s name added as they do in Spanish America, y Palacios.
A long name for a baby.
Little Bolivar had everything money could buy, and slaves to wait upon him whenever he called. Before he was ten years old, his father and mother died and he was left heir to several large fortunes. He owned many hundreds of slaves and a rich plantation called San Mateo.
He was a restless, adventurous, self-willed boy, small but very alert and bright. He did not like to study much; but he was always ready to sit and listen to his tutor Rodriguez, whom he adored. His black eyes sparkled as his tutor told him of lands where people governed themselves. Sometimes Rodriguez explained the meaning of Equality, Fraternity, and Liberty. And the little boy began to dream of Liberty and Independence for his own Venezuela.
But Bolivar did not spend all his time dreaming, he was far too passionately fond of outdoor sports for that. He fished, swam, and learned to shoot. He joined the White Militia of the Valleys of Aragua.
When he was sixteen, his guardian sent him to Spain. There he went to school and lived with his uncle, who was a favourite at Court.
And there, he beat the sulky Prince Ferdinand at tennis.
And there, he met and loved a noble, little Spanish maid, Maria del Toro, just fifteen years old. So Bolivar forgot for a while his threat to deprive Prince Ferdinand of his most precious jewel.
Bolivar and Maria were married, and went on their honeymoon to Venezuela. They reached the lovely plantation of San Mateo, where they lived and were very happy. But, alas! in a few months the girl-bride sickened and died of a fever.
Then the passionate heart of young Bolivar almost broke. He vowed in his grief never to marry again. Soon after Maria’s death, he went back to Europe to try to forget his sorrow in travel and study.
In France he endeavoured to drown his sad memories in gay living, but he could not forget Maria. Then he met Rodriguez, his old tutor, who had been banished from Venezuela.
This Rodriguez was a strange, rough fellow, with many wild ideas and some good ones too. From childhood, Bolivar had confided all his sorrows and joys to him. And, now, as a young man, he was led by his advice.
Rodriguez saw that Bolivar was wasted and consumptive. He persuaded him to go on a walking trip. Knapsack on shoulder, the two set off for their tramp. In Milan, they saw Napoleon crowned King of Italy. They visited many historical spots to which Rodriguez took Bolivar on purpose to arouse again his eager interest in Equality, Fraternity, and Liberty.
Together they climbed Mount Sacro in Rome. And there Bolivar remembered his threat to deprive Prince Ferdinand of the most precious jewel in his Crown. He seized Rodriguez’s hand and swore a solemn oath to wrest Venezuela from the Crown of Spain.6
For Venezuela—in fact all Spanish America—was the vast treasure-house of Spain, the most precious jewel in her Crown.