Don Antonío de Berrío was a professional and courageous soldier who had served an active life in the armies of Carlos V and Felipe II in Europe. He was an outstanding officer, for he had reached the rank of capitán in one of the four companies that composed the prestigious Old Guard of the Kingdom of Granada. In 1579 his wife's uncle died, leaving him his estate. This distant relative was none less than the redoubtable Gonzálo Jiménez de Quesada, former adelantado of Nueva Granada. De Berrío loaded his wife, Doña María de Oruña, and their eight children and belongings aboard the annual Tierra Firme fleet and sailed to the Antilles, arriving in early-1581 and expecting to retire in well-earned ease.

He was to be disappointed. De Quesada's will included a stipulation that the heir of his estate should justify his inheritance by using part of the income to finance the search for 'El Dorado.' And so the hapless de Berrío, instead of settling down at the opulent hacienda with manicured gardens and obedient servants in his rich encomienda at Chita, found himself setting out from Tunja in 1581 with third-rate colonial troops to explore the hinterlands of the Guianas, where the rains and the sun beat down with equal and unrelenting ferocity, and where the Indians had the unpleasant habit of firing poisoned darts and arrows at white men with beards. The insect-infested campsites bore little resemblance to the retirement idyll of a hacendado, but de Berrío persevered. His first expedition lasted seventeen months, during which he reached the Orinoque, crossed it, headed into the mountains beyond, and heard from some Indians of another tribe that had "come from the west" and "lived in splendour at a city on a lake surrounded by high mountains" ....

At last! It seemed to fit all the loose strands of the El Dorado legend: the fugitives from Peru, carrying the salvaged treasure of the Incas, the lake, the surrounding mountains, and the advanced civilisation. De Berrío was certain he was about to come upon the elusive 'Kingdom of the Gilded Man.' His relación to Spain was rewarded with the grandiose title of Gobernadór de la Provincia de El Dorado. This 'province' included the whole upper part of the Orinoque drainage.

His second expedition began in 1584 and lasted until 1588, and on this campaign the Indians told him of a large lake in the mountains to the west near the Meta-Orinoque confluence. The third expedition, this time including his son Fernando, followed the Capanaparo, crossed first the Orinoque and then the mountains, heading into the Guianas along the Ventuari, Parucito and Cuchivero rivers. Here he heard tell of a large lake called 'Parima' .... with the fabulous city on its shores .... and with its main river running into the Caroní, itself a tributary of the Orinoque. After encountering a hostile Caríba tribe under their chief, Morequito, a mutiny threatened the disintegration of the search, and de Berrío returned to Margarita in 1590 to plan another entrada.

Whilst de Berrío was away a strange bedraggled figure emerged from the interior. Juan Martínez de Albujár, sole survivor of an El Dorado entrada that vanished a decade earlier, claimed to have been to the capital of this 'realm,' called Manoa, and to have seen the 'Gilded Man' himself. He was given several jewels and some gold by the 'Gilded Man' - Martínez still had some of these in a calabash. There were many who believed him, and it was decided to ship him off to Spain to tell his story there, but he caught a fever in Puerto Rico and died.

Antonío de Berrío never met Martínez in person but every detail of his story seemed to corroborate what the would-be conquístador had already learned during his recent expeditions, and it strengthened him further in his belief that 'El Dorado,' actually called Manoa, really existed!. He knew that Martínez' story would create jealous rivals, so he planned his fourth expedition with meticulous care. First he sent his most trusted lieutenant, Domingo de Vera y Ibarguën, to the gobernadór of Venezuela, Diego de Osoria, in quest of soldiers and finance for the new Manoa venture. This successfully done, Ibarguën was sent to take formal possession of the island of Trinidade, where he established the town of San José de Oruña, in honour of Doña María's family, in May 1592.

A complication arose in December when Francisco de Vides arrived at Margarita from Spain with a Royal commission as gobernadór of Cumaná and of the entire coastal territory eastwards to the mouth of the Amazon. This included Trinidade and the drainage of the lower Orinoque. Efforts to induce de Vides to co-operate with him failed, and so de Berrío determined, pending the arrival of regulating instructions from Madrid, to proceed with his own plans as soon as possible. In April 1593, he sent Ibarguën and 35 men up the Orinoque to establish cordial relations with the Caríba Indians there, among them chiefs Carapana and the difficult Morequito. This he did skilfully, constructing a small makeshift fort below the confluence of the Caroní. Ibarguën heard tell of a nearby gold mine and he wrote up a notarial relación, in duplicate, which was sent to Spain in different ships.

Further complications arose at San José de Oruña on Trinidade when Gobernadór Diego de Osoria of Venezuela, probably enticed by Martínez' story, betrayed his friend de Berrío and went off to find Manoa of his own accord. The troublesome gobernadóres Sarmiento de Villandrando of Margarita and de Vides of Trinidade continued their pesterings until the former was killed by an English privateer. De Vides was ordered by the King to co-operate with de Berrío in spite of their conflict of claims. Despite - or perhaps because of - the small fortress, the fickle Morequito was threatening bellicosity again, and an English privateer, Captain Jacob Whiddon, lost eight men in a skirmish with de Berrío's compadres.

De Berrío then took two important measures. First he sent his son Fernando all the way overland back to Chita in Nueva Granada to enlist reinforcements for his father's cause. Second, in mid-November, 1594, Ibarguën was instructed to go to Spain to recruit men and settlers for the El Dorado-Manoa venture and to gain royal support for the expedition. In Madrid Ibarguën put on a convincing show, displaying some gold trinkets and boasting of de Berrío's achievements so far, and the lieutenant successfully obtained royal re-confirmation of Antonío de Berrío's title of 'Gobernadór of El Dorado.'

Then, on April 4, 1595, a dark cloud crossed the face of the smiling Spanish sun: four English ships appeared in the Golfo de Paría with obvious intentions of either landing on Trinidade or of sailing up the Orinoque. The now seventy years-old Antonío de Berrío learned to his dismay that the English commander of this squadron was 'Guatteral,' the mispronounced Hispanic form of Sir Walter Ralegh.

Ralegh had fallen into disfavour with Queen Elizabeth three years earlier for clandestinely marrying Elizabeth Throckmorton, the Queen's maid-of-honour. When Captain George Popham, one of Ralegh's privateers captured a Spanish ship, a report from Antonío de Berrío to King Felipe II was found, describing de Berrío's efforts so far and also Martínez' tale ... and this gave Ralegh an idea. The 'Kingdom of El Dorado' had not yet been found, this was obvious, but if England could find it before the Spaniards did, then the English could conclude an alliance with the Manoans against the Spaniards, and thus establish an empire in the Americas providing enough wealth to rival and eventually defeat Spain. Queen Elizabeth heard the plan and liked it - but offered no financial backing to the project. However, Ralegh organised his expedition with admirable thoroughness, reading every available publication on the search for 'El Dorado' and recruiting redoubtable mariners and gentlemen-adventurers for the voyage - whose stake in the venture helped fit-out and provision the squadron. Sir Robert Dudley, a renowned trader-cum-privateersman, had been lurking in Trinidade waters for six weeks awaiting Ralegh's arrival, but had eventually given up and sailed away.

Ralegh learned from an Indian cacique that de Berrío's force at San José de Oruña comprised 80 men at the most. Ralegh's force massacred the small Spanish negotiation detail, landed two companies of troops, and took and sacked San José de Oruña, capturing Antonío de Berrío. The elderly conquístador was politely but closely questioned, but could not - or would not - reveal anymore than Ralegh already knew. Ralegh made a hurried crossing to the many mouths of the Orinoque and struggled up the wrong channel. A chance encounter with four Indian canoes, two of which were captured, led to the discovery of a wicker basket containing a refiner's portable assay kit, complete with neat array of saltpetre, phials of mercury, and all the other paraphernalia for testing rocks for their mineral content. Ralegh was convinced the Spaniards had discovered a nearby gold mine.

Upon entering the Orinoque proper, Ralegh seemed to have lost interest in continuing the expedition. The jagged crest of the desolate Sierra de Imatacá running parallel to the Orinoque's right bank more or less prevented access, as it had done de Berrío. Ralegh visited the cataract of the Caroní, was mightily impressed by its spray-shrouded falls, and decided that the present expedition was too ill-equipped to attempt an arduous crossing of the range. To the disappointment of his captains, Ralegh decided to head back to England where he could lobby for a more substantial enterprise.

As the expedition had so far failed to produce anything more tangible than information with which to recompense his backers, Ralegh decided to raid Margarita and Cumaná on the coast of Nueva Andalucia .... but he was miserably driven off at both places. When nobody would pay a ransom for Don Antonío de Berrío, Ralegh put him ashore at Cumaná, where he promptly fell into the hands of the vindictive Francisco de Vides.

Back in England, Ralegh's enemies made the most of his failure to find 'El Dorado-Manoa' and of the absence of any worthwhile returns on the investments, save for a few samples of some quality wood known as mahogany. Ralegh replied with his publication The Discoverie of the Large, Rich, and Bewtiful Empyre of Guiana, with a Relation to the Great and Golden Citie of Manoa (which the Spanyards call El Dorado). It was a fusillade against his detractors, but also a treatise of empire, a history of Spanish colonialism, a geographical handbook on the realm of the 'Inga' Guaynacapa escaping Peru, a plea for personal recognition, and a work of pure literary entertainment. In it he also published a carefully drawn map with a clearly marked "Lake of the Guianas," that of Parima, and likened this salt-water "inland sea" to the size of the Caspian Sea. The workmanship of the map was such that it was included by other leading editors of travelogue literature at the time, Hakluyt and De Bry. In fact, the book went through a number of editions, both in England and abroad.

Despite stalwartly taking part in the 1596 Anglo-Dutch Cadíz campaign, Ralegh found no significant backing from relevant financial sources in England, although The Discoverie was in fact a resounding literary success. However, in 1603 Queen Elizabeth died and James I succeeded to the throne. One of his first acts was to end the war with Spain. With this grew a strong pro-Spain faction at the Court and it saw no place for anti-Spanish adventurers such as Ralegh. He was arrested on trumped-up charges of intriguing to set Arabella Stuart on the throne, found 'guilty of encompassing the death of the King' by a browbeaten jury and sentenced to death, but was reprieved at the last moment and left to cool his ambitions in the Tower of London.

And here he would remain for the next thirteen years. But notions of discovering Manoa remained effervescent in his mind.

Meanwhile, the intrepid Antonío de Berrío managed to escape from de Vides, and with only ten men visited the ruins of San José de Oruña on Trinidade, then pushed up the Orinoque to the junction with the Caroní. Taking the men of the small fortress with him, de Berrío moved up along the confluence and established another fort, called Santo Tomás [16]. Shortly afterwards, 30 men arrived with some cannon overland from Nueva Granada, sent by his son Fernando.

Whilst Ralegh was campaigning at Cadíz (and being wounded in the leg), one of his captains, Laurence Keymis, was despatched to the Guianas to explore the Essequibo river for an alternative route to 'Lake Parima.' The natives of the area spoke of a "large lake of approximately a day's portage" westward from the Essequibo. A visit up the Orinoque to the Caroní was not a success, and the presence of Spanish troops at San Thomé convinced Keymis that the Spaniards had now opened the mines and were working the ore. He did not feel strong enough to attack San Thomé, and retreated back down the Orinoque, naming the region 'Raleana' in honour of his imprisoned patron.

Francisco de Vides, still resentful of de Berrío, sent his lieutenant, Felipe de Santiago, to Trinidade where, in de Berrío's absence, he rebuilt San José, renaming it San Felipe de Montes. In April 1596 Ibarguën and his eloquently recruited volunteer force of 300 married couples and 600 bachelors arrived from Spain on their way to the Manoan realm. It quickly recaptured the place in de Berrío's name, and proceeded up the Orinoque to San Thomé, where drums and banners welcomed the newcomers.

The large female element succumbed almost at once to the fatal influence of a tropical environment. The males fared not much better either in this life of the wilds. Sickness, disillusionment and melancholia, as well as the lack of any gold, broke morale and the accompanying priests could to little to stop the rot. Small exploration parties went up the Caroní valley and disappeared, and the faithful Ibarguën quarrelled with de Berrío and departed for Trinidade. Amid a rising tide of attacks by Indians, starvation, desertions, sicknesses, disasters and other disorders, the aged Don Antonío de Berrío died in 1597, shortly after his son Fernando arrived at San Thomé from distant Nueva Granada with further reinforcements.

Excited by The Discoverie, several other adventurers tried their hand at finding the elusive kingdom, the most notable being that of Sir Thomas Roe, later ambassador to the Great Mogul, the Sublime Porte, and Gustav Adolf of Sweden. Each expedition admitted that it had not actually found Manoa, but that it was convinced of the presence of gold mines.

Fernando de Berrío y Oruña, aided by the now-reconciled Ibarguën, still entertained the idea of discovering 'Manoa,' but both men soon realised that more immediate profits could be gained by the cultivation of tobacco for sale to the many Dutch and English ships venturing into the Golfo de Paría and up the Orinoque. Don Fernando's lax and light-hearted administration led to his recall in 1612 to stand trial for 'deliberate evasion of the King's revenue.' Illicit trade with foreign smugglers, the rescate, had become such an endemic problem in some quarters of the Caribbean that Madrid's response in 1605-1606 was to ban the cultivation of tobacco altogether. This led to a slump in the fortunes of some regions, and was the immediate cause of considerable resentment from most of the Spanish settlers there.

With most of his enemies dead of old age, Ralegh was released from the Tower in 1616, with as collateral that he find 'Manoa,' or else ....

The new Spanish ambassador was the Conde de Gondomár, a shrewd diplomat whose machinations at King James I's court were such that Ralegh's second expedition was more or less doomed, even if he did find 'Manoa.' For to do so, he would exacerbate Anglo-Spanish relations at a time when the Exchequer was practically empty. Nevertheless, Ralegh reached the Cayana river with a squadron of six ships in 1617. Captain Keymis was again despatched up the Orinoque to contact the chieftain Putijma, who had told him of the 'golden mountain' on the earlier expedition. This time, Putijma spoke of another, richer mine further upstream - but it meant passing by the Spaniards at San Thomé.

The royal administrator, Diego Palomeque de Acuña, was intensely unpopular as he had strictly adhered to the anti-tobacco regulations which had by now reduced San Thomé to a poverty-stricken and neglected outpost. However, despite having only 36 men against Keymis' 400, he resolved to stand firm. After a spirited but futile defence, San Thomé was overrun and Palomeque killed, along with Ralegh's son Wat who led the rather impetuous English charge. The surviving Spaniards retreated into the jungle where, under Jerónimo de Grados, they conducted a skilful guerilla campaign against the invaders.

This event did not please either Keymis or Ralegh, for it had flouted every condition for the conduct of the expedition laid down by King James. Keymis lost control of his gold-hungry soldiers who sacked San Thomé and rampaged throughout the surrounding region in search of the elusive gold mines, continuously ambushed by de Grados and his men. When the English finally withdrew from San Thomé and rejoined Ralegh's main force at the mouth of the delta, Ralegh upbraided Keymis to such an extent that the disgraced lieutenant committed suicide. Wat Ralegh's useless death now finally drained Sir Walter of any further ambition to find either 'Manoa' or the gold mines. Thoroughly disillusioned, he decided to set course back to England where, honour-bound, he would bear the consequences of this even greater failure than his first. He was re-incarcerated in the Tower and denied an open trial for fear that the silver-tongued and nimble-witted prisoner might find a pulpit from which to arouse popular sympathy. Along with the accusations of fraudulent conduct in the Guiana ventures and the 'treacherous invasion of San Thomé,' the old 1603 charges of treason were resurrected, and with it the sentence of death. At nine o'clock in the morning of Friday, October 29, 1618, Sir Walter Ralegh kept an appointment with the headsman in the Old Palace Yard at Westminster.

In 1619 Fernando de Berrío was restored to favour and returned to the Orinoque. Here, besides restoring the cultivation of tobacco and cotton to rekindle the profitable rescate with the North Europeans, he resumed his father's attempts to find 'Manoa,' exploring more rivers throughout the Orinoque basin - but never actually coming across conclusive proof of the existence of the 'Golden City.' He was captured by Barbary Corsairs on his way back to Spain in 1622 to recruit more aid, and died in a dingy Algiers prison.