The Bishop and the monks now departed from the Spanish town and took up their residence in Chiapa. Some distance outside the town they found a number of Indians waiting for them, gayly dressed, decorated with golden chains and bracelets, and carrying crosses made of feathers and flowers. As soon as Las Casas was conducted to the house made ready for him, the Indians began to come in from all the country round, begging to be taught the Christian religion. Joy filled the heart of the good Bishop. Such a scene made up for all the torments and insults he had suffered at the hands of his own countrymen.

Happy as he was, however, at this readiness on the natives' part to accept the gospel message, the tales of suffering they poured into his ears wrung his heart. All over the province women were stolen, property taken away, and the helpless Indians bought and sold like cattle,—overworked, beaten and starved, until they died and so, at last, found peace.

The Bishop could not get the new laws enforced. No attention was paid either to his entreaties or his threats, so at length,—in June, 1545,—he determined to go to Gracias Á Dios, and present the matter to the council governing the country, demanding that they compel obedience to the royal mandate.

He took the road through Guatemala, in order to visit again "The Land of War," now a land of peace. It was a wonderful encouragement to him to find the Indians living peaceful, orderly, Christian lives, unmolested and happy. Great numbers of them came to greet him with tears of joy, and if he had needed any proof of the wisdom of his method of Christianizing the Indians, he found it in the transformation that had taken place all through the district.

To all who came, Las Casas spoke in their own language, giving to them the royal command, signed by the Emperor, that they should never be anything but a free people.

The Bishop of Guatemala went with Las Casas to visit The Land of War, and had intended to go with him to Gracias Á Dios, where they were both to assist in the consecration of a new bishop of Nicaragua. Learning, however, that the Protector of the Indians was going principally to insist upon the enforcement of the new laws, and that a letter had been written to Prince Philip, heir to the throne, informing him that he, the Bishop of Guatemala, had many slaves and did not uphold these laws either in practice or in teaching, he turned back and returned to his own diocese, and from a warm friend he became one of the Bishop's enemies.

The journey to Gracias Á Dios was a difficult and dangerous one at that season of the year. All such journeys were of course made on foot, and the streams that had to be crossed were swollen and turbulent from the violent rains, which had also in some cases destroyed the roads; but we never hear that Las Casas in all his life ever once gave up or delayed a trip either because of ill health or dangers in the way. Now, at seventy-one, he had all the endurance and energy of youth.

Immediately upon his arrival he went before the council, but met with nothing but insults. One day as he came in, an officer cried out:

"Put out that fool!"

On another occasion, having been commanded to withdraw, Las Casas refused to do so, and the president ordered him to be removed by force. The Bishop solemnly summoned the judges, in the name of God, to relieve the Indians from oppression and remove the stumbling blocks their tyranny was putting in the way of Christianizing them. At this the chief justice lost his temper and shouted:

"You are a bad man, a cheat, a bad bishop, a shameful fellow, and deserve to be punished!"

Such language used by a Spanish official toward a bishop in those days, when the Roman Catholic Church had so great an influence upon the nation, startled even those most hostile to Las Casas. The chief justice found himself regarded by the whole community as practically excommunicated because of this rash speech, and was obliged to make a sort of half-hearted apology for having so spoken.

Las Casas was not only a Bishop but, by training and experience at the court of Spain, one of the foremost lawyers of his time; and now, seeing that he could obtain nothing from the judges by peaceful means, he instituted legal proceedings against them. This accomplished some good, for an auditor was sent by them to Ciudad Real, to see to the enforcement of the new laws, and the inhabitants of that place were notified of his coming by letter.

When the notice was received, at once the tocsin was rung, and when all the citizens were gathered together, a protest was read, stating that the Bishop had taken possession of his see without showing the papal bulls or the royal decree authorizing him to do so, and declaring that he must cease his innovations and do as other bishops did, if he wanted them to pay their tithes and receive him as their bishop.

The inhabitants stationed a body of Indians on the road by which he was to come, to give notice of the approach of Las Casas, and determined to prevent his entrance into the city by force.

The Bishop had sent on his baggage by Indian couriers, but, receiving word of the hostile attitude of the citizens, he recalled them, and stopped at the Dominican monastery in the town of Copanabasta, to consult with the brethren there.

Meanwhile, a lay brother and a gentleman of the town, who was friendly to the Bishop, had gone to his house and removed his books and household goods to a place of safety. The people hearing of this, a mob attacked them at midnight; but they took refuge in the sacristy of the church, where they could not be reached, and at daybreak escaped and got out of the town.

News of all this was brought to the Bishop, and the Dominicans advised him not to go on, but he said:

"If I do not go to Ciudad Real, I banish myself from my own church, and it will be said of me with reason, 'The wicked flee when no man pursueth.'"

He added:

"The minds of men change from hour to hour. Is it possible that the mercy of God will permit them to commit so horrible a crime as to murder me? If I do not endeavor to enter my church, how can I complain to the Emperor or the Pope that I have been thrust out of it?"

And he finished by saying:

"My good fathers, trusting in the mercy of God and your fervent prayers, I am resolved to proceed on my journey, as no other alternative is left, without my neglecting my duty."

Then, gathering up the folds of his habit, he set out, calm in the midst of the tears and prayers of those about him.

It was sunset when Las Casas started and late at night when he came upon the Indian sentinels. The report had gone out that the Bishop had given up the attempt to enter the town, and the Indians were therefore off their guard and had fallen asleep. Wakened suddenly by the approach of the Bishop, they fell at his feet when he said gently to them:

"Are you ready to destroy your father?"

Distressed at their position, and overjoyed to see him again, the poor creatures knelt before him, begging his forgiveness and pouring out with tears their love for him.

Las Casas was afraid that the Indians would be punished for failing to give notice of his arrival, so, with his own hands he, assisted by one of the fathers, bound them, that it might appear that he had surprised and captured them.

That night there was an earthquake at Ciudad Real, and the citizens said it was because of the Bishop, and that it was only the beginning of the destruction he would bring upon the town.

Entering Ciudad Real about daybreak, Las Casas went immediately to the church and summoned the council to meet him there. They came, followed by all the rest of the citizens, and seated themselves. When the Bishop came in to speak to them, no one rose or showed him any of the usual marks of respect. The notary at once stood up and read the paper the citizens had prepared at the town meeting. The Bishop answered this quietly and courteously, saying that he had no intention of interfering with their property except to prevent sin against God and their neighbor. His gentleness was beginning to make some impression, when one of the council, neither rising nor removing his cap, commenced a violent speech, declaring that the Bishop was but a private individual, and if he wished to speak to them, should have gone to them and not have presumed to summon them to come to him.

Las Casas replied with great dignity:

"Look you, sir; when I wish to ask anything from your estates, I will go to your house and speak to you, but when I have to speak to you concerning God's service and the good of your souls, it is for me to send and call you to come wherever I may be, and if you are Christians you have to come trooping in haste, lest evil fall upon you."

Nobody dared answer this, and the Bishop, rising, immediately withdrew into the sacristy.

There the notary of the council came to him and respectfully presented a petition from the townspeople, asking that they have confessors appointed. The Bishop assented and named two; but these not being acceptable, he chose two others, whose views were not very well known to the people, but whom he knew to be in sympathy with himself. The brother who was with him, not understanding the character of the men he had last appointed and thinking he was yielding to pressure, took hold of his vestments and cried:

"Let your lordship rather die than do this!"

At that a tumult broke out in the church, and the people would have assaulted the speaker, if at that moment two monks of the Order of Mercy had not entered the building and succeeded in getting the Bishop and the offending father out in safety,—taking them to their convent.

Las Casas had walked all night, and the fatigue of the journey and the excitement of this meeting had left him much exhausted, but he was not yet to have rest.

He was seated in his cell, and the monks were giving him some refreshment, when a fearful uproar was heard outside, and the convent was found to be surrounded by armed men. Some of them forced their way into the Bishop's presence. At first there was such a noise that it was impossible to hear what it was all about, but at last it appeared that it was because the Indian sentinels had been bound and treated as prisoners.

Las Casas at once said that he alone was to blame for this, and explained that it was done for fear they should be suspected of favoring him.

Then a storm of abuse broke out against the Bishop, no feeling of respect for his office nor of consideration for his age restraining them.

Meanwhile, while this was going on within, a scene of violence was taking place in the courtyard. The mob attacked the negro who attended the Bishop in all his travels. This negro was of great stature and the Bishop in jest called him Juanillo (Little John). He had traveled three times across the continent with the Bishop, and always carried him in his arms when fording the swollen streams. Juanillo was wounded with a pike thrust and stretched on the ground. The monks rushed out to help him and two of them,—very strong young men,—succeeded in clearing the courtyard.

All this took place before nine o'clock in the morning. By noon there was a revulsion of feeling,—the minds of the citizens had entirely changed. The members of the council came humbly to the convent, asked the Bishop's pardon on their knees, and kissed his hands. They then carried him in festive procession to the house of one of the principal citizens, and sent him costly presents. Finally, they arranged a grand tournament in his honor.

It is doubtful if this sudden change in their treatment of him was especially gratifying to the Bishop, as it indicated fickleness and lack of depth in the people he had come to rule. Indeed neither he nor the monks had been in any way misled by this demonstration as to what was likely to happen in the future. While the peace lasted his adherents made haste to send plenty of provisions to the Bishop's house, lest he be starved out when it was over.

Las Casas was now about to go to Mexico, to attend a meeting of all the bishops in the New World, who were to confer concerning all questions concerning the Indians. While he was making his preparations, Juan Rogel,—the auditor appointed by the council at Gracias Á Dios to see to the enforcement of the new laws,—arrived. He listened respectfully to all the Bishop had to say, and then advised him to hasten his departure.

"For," said he, "one of the reasons that has made these laws hateful in the Indies, is the fact that you have had a hand in them."

And Rogel went on to explain that he would be able to act with much more freedom in his absence.

Las Casas recognized the truth of this, and made all haste to get away. He left his diocese just a year after he had entered it.

Although the news had not yet reached him, the Emperor had been obliged practically to revoke the new laws, because of the tumults and rebellions they had caused in his American possessions. We can imagine the Bishop's grief and dismay when he heard of this.

On arriving at the city of Mexico, where the episcopal council was to be held, there was such a tumult that one would have thought a hostile army was about to take possession of the place instead of one poor missionary bishop and four humble monks approaching the walls on foot. The authorities were obliged to write and ask Las Casas to delay his entrance a little, until they could quiet popular excitement.

The Bishop at length came into the city about ten o'clock one morning, and went at once to the Dominican monastery.

The synod or council that Las Casas had come to attend was composed of five or six bishops and the chief theologians and learned men of the colony. Las Casas soon became its leading spirit. Some very bold declarations were made in favor of the Indians, but the question of slavery was very unwillingly touched upon. However, the Viceroy, who was president of the meeting, finally appointed a special council to meet and discuss this matter. The result of the deliberations of both bodies on the subject was that all Indian slaves, except a few renegade rebels, had been enslaved unjustly, and that all personal service imposed upon those that were not slaves was unlawful.

Of course these conclusions could not be forced upon the country; but copies of them were distributed all over the province, in the hope that they might have an effect upon the minds of men.

Las Casas had now fully decided that he could do more for the Indians in Spain than in his diocese, especially as he could be kept constantly informed by the Dominicans as to what was going on. He therefore appointed a Vicar-General to take his place, and sailed from Vera Cruz in 1547, leaving the shores of America for the last time.