CHAPTER XII. -- FOURTH VOYAGE.

THE INSTRUCTIONS GIVEN FOR THE VOYAGE--HE IS TO GO TO THE MAINLAND OF

THE INDIES--A SHORT PASSAGE--OVANDO FORBIDS THE ENTRANCE OF COLUMBUS

INTO HARBOR--BOBADILLA’S SQUADRON AND ITS FATE--COLUMBUS SAILS

WESTWARD--DISCOVERS HONDURAS, AND COASTS ALONG ITS SHORES--THE

SEARCH FOR GOLD--COLONY ATTEMPTED AND ABANDONED--THE VESSELS

BECOME UNSEAWORTHY--REFUGE AT JAMAICA--MUTINY LED BY THE

BROTHERS PORRAS--MESSAGES TO SAN DOMINGO--THE ECLIPSE--ARRIVAL OF

RELIEF--COLUMBUS RETURNS TO SAN DOMINGO, AND TO SPAIN.

It seems a pity now that, after his third voyage, Columbus did not

remain in Spain and enjoy, as an old man could, the honors which he had

earned and the respect which now waited upon him. Had this been so, the

world would have been spared the mortification which attends the thought

that the old man to whom it owes so much suffered almost everything in

one last effort, failed in that effort, and died with the mortification

of failure. But it is to be remembered that Columbus was not a man to

cultivate the love of leisure. He had no love of leisure to cultivate.

His life had been an active one. He had attempted the solution of a

certain problem which he had not solved, and every day of leisure, even

every occasion of effort and every word of flattery, must have quickened

in him new wishes to take the prize which seemed so near, and to achieve

the possibility which had thus far eluded him.

From time to time, therefore, he had addressed new memorials to the

sovereigns proposing a new expedition; and at last, by an instruction

which is dated on the fourteenth of March, in the year 1502, a fourth

voyage was set on foot at the charge of the king and queen,--an

instruction not to stop at Hispaniola, but, for the saving of time, to

pass by that island. This is a graceful way of intimating to him that

he is not to mix himself up with the rights and wrongs of the new

settlement.

The letter goes on to say, that the sovereigns have communicated with

the King of Portugal, and that they have explained to him that Columbus

is pressing his discoveries at the west and will not interfere with

those of the Portuguese in the east. He is instructed to regard the

Portuguese explorers as his friends, and to make no quarrel with them.

He is instructed to take with him his sons, Fernando and Diego. This is

probably at his request.

The prime object of the instruction is still to strike the mainland of

the Indies. All the instructions are, “You will make a direct voyage,

if the weather does not prevent you, for discovering the islands and the

mainland of the Indies in that part which belongs to us.” He is to take

possession of these islands and of this mainland, and to inform the

sovereigns in regard to his discoveries, and the experience of former

voyages has taught them that great care must be taken to avoid private

speculation in “gold, silver, pearls, precious stones, spices and other

things of different quality.” For this purpose special instructions are

given.

Of this voyage we have Columbus’s own official account.

There were four vessels, three of which were rated as caravels. The

fourth was very small. The chief vessel was commanded by Diego Tristan;

the second, the Santiago, by Francisco de Porras; the third, the

Viscaina (Biscayan), by Bartholomew de Fiesco; and the little Gallician

by Pedro de Torreros. None of these vessels, as the reader will see, was

ever to return to Spain. From de Porras and his brother, Columbus and

the expedition were to receive disastrous blows.

It must be observed that he is once more in his proper position of a

discoverer. He has no government or other charge of colonies entrusted

to him. His brother Bartholomew and his youngest son Fernando, sail with

him.

The little squadron sailed from the bay of Cadiz on the eleventh of

May, 1502. They touched at Sicilla,--a little port on the coast of

Morocco,--to relieve its people, a Portuguese garrison, who had been

besieged by the Moors. But finding them out of danger, Columbus went at

once to the Grand Canary island, and had a favorable passage.

From the Grand Canary to the island which he calls “the first island of

the Indies,” and which he named Martinino, his voyage was only seventeen

days long. This island was either the St. Lucia or the Martinique of

today. Hence he passed to Dominica, and thence crossed to San Domingo,

to make repairs, as he said. For, as has been said, he had been

especially ordered not to interfere in the affairs of the settlement.

He did not disobey his orders. He says distinctly that he intended

to pass along the southern shore of San Domingo, and thence take a

departure for the continent. But he says, that his principal vessel

sailed very ill--could not carry much canvas, and delayed the rest of

the squadron. This weakness must have increased after the voyage across

the ocean. For this reason he hoped to exchange it for another ship at

San Domingo.

But he did not enter the harbor. He sent a letter to Ovando, now the

governor, and asked his permission. He added, to the request he made,

a statement that a tempest was at hand which he did not like to meet in

the offing. Ovando, however, refused any permission to enter. He was, in

fact, just dispatching a fleet to Spain, with Bobadilla, Columbus’s old

enemy, whom Ovando had replaced in his turn.

Columbus, in an eager wish to be of use, by a returning messenger begged

Ovando to delay this fleet till the gale had passed. But the seamen

ridiculed him and his gale, and begged Ovando to send the fleet home.

He did so. Bobadilla and his fleet put to sea. In ten days a West India

hurricane struck them. The ship on which Columbus’s enemies, Bobadilla

and Roldan, sailed, was sunk with them and the gold accumulated for

years. Of the whole fleet, only one vessel, called the weakest of all,

reached Spain. This ship carried four thousand pieces of gold, which

were the property of the Admiral. Columbus’s own little squadron,

meanwhile--thanks probably to the seamanship of himself and his

brother--weathered the storm, and he found refuge in the harbor which

he had himself named “the beautiful,” El Hermoso, in the western part of

San Domingo.

Another storm delayed him at a port which he called Port Brasil. The

word Brasil was the name which the Spaniards gave to the red log-wood,

so valuable in dyeing, and various places received that name, where this

wood was found. The name is derived from “Brasas,”--coals,--in allusion,

probably, to the bright red color of the dye.

Sailing from this place, on Saturday, the sixteenth of June, they made

sight of the island of Jamaica, but he pressed on without making any

examination of the country, for four days sailing west and south-west.

He then changed his course, and sailed for two days to the northwest and

again two days to the north.

On Sunday, the twenty fourth of July, they saw land. This was the key

now known as Cuyago, and they were at last close upon the mainland.

After exploring this island they sailed again on Wednesday, the

twenty-seventh, southwest and quarter southwest about ninety miles, and

again they saw land, which is supposed to be the island of Guanaja or

Bonacca, near the coast of Honduras.

The Indians on this island had some gold and some pearls. They had seen

whites before. Columbus calls them men of good stature. Sailing from

this island, he struck the mainland near Truxillo, about ten leagues

from the island of Guanaja. He soon found the harbor, which we still

know as the harbor of Truxillo, and from this point Columbus began a

careful investigation of the coast.

He observed, what all navigators have since observed, the lack of

harbors. He passed along as far as the river now known as the Tinto,

where he took possession in the name of the sovereigns, calling this

river the River of Possession. He found the natives savage, and the

country of little account for his purposes. Still passing southward, he

passed what we call the Mosquito Coast, to which he found the natives

gave the name of Cariay.

These people were well disposed and willing to treat with them. They

had some cotton, they had some gold. They wore very little clothing,

and they painted their bodies, as most of the natives of the islands had

done. He saw what he thought to be pigs and large mountain cats.

Still passing southward, running into such bays or other harbors as they

found, he entered the “Admiral’s Bay,” in a country which had the name

of Cerabaro, or Zerabora. Here an Indian brought a plate of gold and

some other pieces of gold, and Columbus was, encouraged in his hopes of

finding more.

The natives told him that if he would keep on he would find another

bay which they called Arburarno, which is supposed to be the Laguna

Chiriqui. They said the people, of that country, lived in the mountains.

Here Columbus noticed the fact,--one which has given to philologists one

of their central difficulties for four hundred years since,--that as he

passed from one point to another of the American shores, the Indians did

not understand each other’s language. “Every ten or twenty leagues

they did not understand each other.” In entering the river Veragua, the

Indians appeared armed with lances and arrows, some of them having gold

also. Here, also, the people did not live upon the shore, but two or

three leagues back in the interior, and they only came to the sea by

their canoes upon the rivers.

The next province was then called Cobraba, but Columbus made no landing

for want of a proper harbor. All his courses since he struck the

continent had been in a southeasterly direction. That an expedition

for westward discovery should be sailing eastward, seemed in itself a

contradiction. What irritated the crews still more was, that the wind

seemed always against them.

From the second to the ninth of November, 1502, the little fleet lay

at anchor in the spacious harbor, which he called Puerto Bello, “the

beautiful harbor.” It is still known by that name. A considerable

Spanish city grew up there, which became well known to the world in the

last century by the attack upon it by the English in the years 1739 and

1742.

The formation of the coast compelled them to pass eastward as they went

on. But the currents of the Gulf flow in the opposite direction. Here

there were steady winds from the east and the northeast. The ships

were pierced by the teredo, which eats through thick timbers, and is so

destructive that the seamen of later times have learned to sheath the

hulls of their vessels with copper.

The seamen thought that they were under the malign influence of

some adverse spell. And after a month Columbus gave way to their

remonstrances, and abandoned his search for a channel to India. He was

the more ready to do this because he was satisfied that the land by

which he lay was connected with the coast which other Spaniards had

already discovered. He therefore sailed westward again, retracing his

course to explore the gold mines of Veragua.

But the winds could change as quickly as his purposes, and now for

nearly a fortnight they had to fight a tropical tempest. At one moment

they met with a water-spout, which seemed to advance to them directly.

The sailors, despairing of human help, shouted passages from St. John,

and to their efficacy ascribed their escape. It was not until the

seventeenth that they found themselves safely in harbor. He gave to the

whole coast the name of “the coast of contrasts,” to preserve the memory

of his disappointments.

The natives proved friendly, as he had found them before; but they told

him that he would find no more gold upon the coast; that the mines were

in the country of the Veragua. It was, on the tenth day of January that,

after some delay, Columbus entered again the river of that name.

The people told him where he should find the mines, and were all ready

to send guides with his own people to point them out. He gave to this

river, the name of the River of Belen, and to the port in which he

anchored he gave the name of Santa Maria de Belen, or Bethlehem.

His men discovered the mines, so called, at a distance of eight leagues

from the port. The country between was difficult, being mountainous and

crossed by many streams. They were obliged to pass the river of Veragua

thirty-nine times. The Indians themselves were dexterous in taking out

gold. Columbus added to their number seventy-five men.

In one day’s work, they obtained “two or three castellianos” without

much difficulty. A castelliano was a gold coin of the time, and the

meaning of the text is probably that each man obtained this amount. It

was one of the “placers,” such as have since proved so productive in

different parts of the world.

Columbus satisfied himself that there was a much larger population

inland. He learned from the Indians that the cacique, as he always calls

the chief of these tribes, was a most important monarch in that region.

His houses were larger than others, built handsomely of wood, covered

with palm leaves.

The product of all the gold collected thus far is stated precisely in

the official register. There were two hundred and twenty pieces of

gold, large and small. Altogether they weighed seventy-two ounces,

seven-eighths of an ounce and one grain. Besides these were twelve

pieces, great and small, of an inferior grade of gold, which weighed

fourteen ounces, three-eighths of an ounce, and six tomienes, a tomiene

weighing one-third part of our drachm. In round numbers then, we will

say that the result in gold of this cruising would be now worth $1,500.

Columbus collected gold in this way, to make his expedition popular at

home, and he had, indeed, mortgaged the voyage, so to speak, by pledging

the pecuniary results, as a fund to bear the expense of a new crusade.

But, for himself, the prime desire was always discovery.

Eventually the Spaniards spent two months in that region, pressing their

explorations in search of gold. And so promising did the tokens seem to

him, that he determined to leave his brother, to secure the country and

work the mines, while he should return to Spain, with the gold he had

collected, and obtain reinforcements and supplies. But all these fond

hopes were disappointed.

The natives, under a leader named Quibian, rallied in large numbers,

probably intending to drive the colonists away. It was only by the

boldest measures that their plans were met. When Columbus supposed that

he had suppressed their enterprise, he took leave of his brother, as he

had intended, leaving him but one of the four vessels.

Fortunately, as it proved, the wind did not serve. He sent back a boat

to communicate with the settlement, but it fell into the hands of the

savages. Doubtful as to the issue, a seaman, named Ledesma, volunteered

to swim through the surf, and communicate with the settlement. The brave

fellow succeeded. By passing through the surf again, he brought back the

news that the little colony was closely besieged by the savages.

It seemed clear that the settlement must be abandoned, that Columbus’s

brother and his people must be taken back to Spain. This course was

adopted. With infinite difficulty, the guns and stores which had been

left with the colony were embarked on the vessels of the Admiral. The

caravel which had been left for the colony could not be taken from the

river. She was completely dismantled, and was left as the only memorial

of this unfortunate colony.

At Puerto Bello he was obliged to leave another vessel, for she had been

riddled by the teredo. The two which he had were in wretched condition.

“They were as full of holes as a honey-comb.” On the southern coast of

Cuba, Columbus was obliged to supply them with cassava bread. The leaks

increased. The ships’ pumps were insufficient, and the men bailed out

the water with buckets and kettles. On the twentieth of June, they were

thankful to put into a harbor, called Puerto Bueno, on the coast of

Jamaica, where, as it proved, they eventually left their worthless

vessels, and where they were in exile from the world of civilization for

twelve months.

Nothing in history is more pathetic than the memory that such a waste of

a year, in the closing life of such a man as Columbus, should have

been permitted by the jealousy, the cruelty, or the selfish ambition of

inferior men.

He was not far from the colony at San Domingo. As the reader will

see, he was able to send a message to his countrymen there. But those

countrymen left him to take his chances against a strong tribe of

savages. Indeed, they would not have been sorry to know that he was

dead.

At first, however, he and his men welcomed the refuge of the harbor. It

was the port which he had called Santa Gloria, on his first visit there.

He was at once surrounded by Indians, ready to barter with them and

bring them provisions. The poor Spaniards were hungry enough to be glad

of this relief.

Mendez, a spirited sailor, had the oversight of this trade, and in one

negotiation, at some distance from the vessels, he bought a good canoe

of a friendly chief. For this he gave a brass basin, one of his two

shirts, and a short jacket. On this canoe turned their after fortunes.

Columbus refitted her, put on a false keel, furnished her with a mast

and sail.

With six Indians, whom the chief had lent him, Diego Mendez, accompanied

by only one Spanish companion, set sail in this little craft for San

Domingo. Columbus sent by them a letter to the sovereigns, which gives

the account of the voyage which the reader has been following.

When Mendez was a hundred miles advanced on his journey, he met a band

of hostile savages. They had affected friendship until they had the

adventurers in their power, when they seized them all. But while the

savages were quarreling about the spoils, Mendez succeeded in escaping

to his canoe, and returned alone to his master after fifteen days.

It was determined that the voyage should be renewed. But this time,

another canoe was sent with that under the command of Mendez. He sailed

again, storing his boats with cassava bread and calabashes of water.

Bartholomew Columbus, with his armed band, marched along the coast, as

the two canoes sailed along the shore.

Waiting then for a clear day, Mendez struck northward, on the passage,

which was long for such frail craft, to San Domingo. It was eight months

before Columbus heard of them. Of those eight months, the history is

of dismal waiting, mutiny and civil war. It is pathetic, indeed, that

a little body of men, who had been, once and again, saved from death

in the most remarkable way, could not live on a fertile island, in a

beautiful climate, without quarrelling with each other.

Two officers of Columbus, Porras and his brother, led the sedition. They

told the rest of the crew that the Admiral’s hope of relief from Mendez

was a mere delusion. They said that he was an exile from Spain, and that

he did not dare return to Hispaniola. In such ways they sought to rouse

his people against him and his brother. As for Columbus, he was sick on

board his vessel, while the two brothers Porras were working against him

among his men.

On the second of January, 1504, Francesco de Porras broke into the

cabin. He complained bitterly that they were kept to die in that

desolate place, and accused the Admiral as if it were his fault. He

told Columbus, that they had determined to go back to Spain; and then,

lifting his voice, he shouted, “I am for Castile; who will follow me?”

The mutinous crew instantly replied that they would do so. Voices were

heard which threatened Columbus’s life.

His brother, the Adelantado, persuaded Columbus to retire from the crowd

and himself assumed the whole weight of the assault. The loyal part

of the crew, however, persuaded him to put down his weapon, and on the

other hand, entreated Porras and his companions to depart. It was clear

enough that they had the power, and they tried to carry out their plans.

They embarked in ten canoes, and thus the Admiral was abandoned by

forty-eight of his men. They followed, to the eastward, the route which

Mendez had taken. In their lawless way they robbed the Indians of their

provisions and of anything else that they needed. As Mendez had done,

they waited at the eastern extremity of Jamaica for calm weather. They

knew they could not manage the canoes, and they had several Indians to

help them.

When the sea was smooth they started; but they had hardly gone four

leagues from the land, when the waves began to rise under a contrary

wind. Immediately they turned for shore, the canoes were overfreighted,

and as the sea rose, frequently shipped water.

The frightened Spaniards threw overboard everything they could spare,

retaining their arms only, and a part of their provisions. They even

compelled the Indians to leap into the sea to lighten the boats, but,

though they were skillful swimmers, they could not pretend to make land

by swimming. They kept to the canoes, therefore, and would occasionally

seize them to recover breath. The cruel Spaniards cut off their hands

and stabbed them with their swords. Thus eighteen of their Indian

comrades died, and they had none left, but such as were of most help in

managing the canoes. Once on land, they doubted whether to make another

effort or to return to Columbus.

Eventually they waited a month, for another opportunity to go to

Hispaniola; but this failed as before, and losing all patience, they

returned westward, to the commander whom they had insulted, living on

the island “by fair means or foul,” according as they found the natives

friendly or unfriendly.

Columbus, meanwhile, with his half the crew, was waiting. He had

established as good order as he could between his men and the natives,

but he was obliged to keep a strict watch over such European food as he

still had, knowing how necessary it was for the sick men in his number.

On the other hand, the Indians, wholly unused to regular work, found it

difficult to supply the food which so many men demanded.

The supplies fell off from day to day; the natives no longer pressed

down to the harbor; the trinkets, with which food had been bought, had

lost their charm; the Spaniards began to fear that they should starve on

the shore of an island which, when Columbus discovered it, appeared to

be the abode of plenty. It was at this juncture, when the natives were

becoming more and more unfriendly, that Columbus justified himself

by the tyrant’s plea of necessity, and made use of his astronomical

science, to obtain a supernatural power over his unfriendly allies.

He sent his interpreter to summon the principal caciques to a

conference. For this conference he appointed a day when he knew that a

total eclipse of the moon would take place. The chiefs met as they were

requested. He told them that he and his followers worshipped a God

who lived in the heavens; that that God favored such as did well, but

punished all who displeased him.

He asked them to remember how this God had protected Mendez and his

companions in their voyage, because they went obedient to the orders

which had been given them by their chief. He asked them to remember that

the same God had punished Porras and his companions with all sorts of

affliction, because they were rebels. He said that now this great God

was angry with the Indians, because they refused to furnish food to his

faithful worshippers; that he proposed to chastise them with famine and

pestilence.

He said that, lest they should disbelieve the warning which he gave,

a sign would be given, in the heavens that night, of the anger of the

great God. They would see that the moon would change its color and would

lose its light. They might take this as a token of the punishment which

awaited them.

The Indians had not that confidence in Columbus which they once had.

Some derided what he said, some were alarmed, all waited with anxiety

and curiosity. When the night came they saw a dark shadow begin to steal

over the moon. As the eclipse went forward, their fears increased. At

last the mysterious darkness covered the face of the sky and of the

world, when they knew that they had a right to expect the glory of the

full moon.

There were then no bounds to their terror. They, seized on all

the provisions that they had, they rushed to the ships, they threw

themselves at the feet of Columbus and begged him to intercede with his

God, to withhold the calamity which he had threatened. Columbus would

not receive them; he shut himself up in his cabin and remained there

while the eclipse increased, hearing from within, as the narrator says,

the howls and prayers of the savages.

It was not until he knew the eclipse was about to diminish, that he

condescended to come forth, and told them that he had interceded with

God, who would pardon them if they would fulfil their promises. In token

of pardon, the darkness would be withdrawn from the moon.

The Indians saw the fulfilment of the promise, as they had seen the

fulfilment of the threat. The moon reappeared in its brilliancy. They

thanked the Admiral eagerly for his intercession, and repaired to their

homes. From this time forward, having proved that he knew on earth what

was passing in the heavens, they propitiated him with their gifts. The

supplies came in regularly, and from this time there was no longer any

want of provisions.

But no tales of eclipses would keep the Spaniards quiet. Another

conspiracy was formed, as the eight remaining months of exile passed by,

among the survivors. They meant to seize the remaining canoes, and

with them make their way to Hispaniola. But, at the very point of the

outbreak of the new mutiny, a sail was seen standing toward the harbor.

The Spaniards could see that the vessel was small. She kept the offing,

but sent a boat on shore. As the boat drew near, those who waited

so eagerly recognized Escobar, who had been condemned to death, in

Isabella, when Columbus was in administration, and was pardoned by his

successor Bobadilla. To see this man approaching for their relief was

not hopeful, though he were called a Christian, and was a countryman of

their own.

Escobar drew up to the ships, on which the Spaniards still lived, and

gave them a letter from Ovando, the new governor of Hispaniola, with

some bacon and a barrel of wine, which were sent as presents to the

Admiral. He told Columbus, in a private interview, that the governor had

sent him to express his concern at his misfortune, and his regret that

he had not a vessel of sufficient size to bring off all the people,

but that he would send one as soon as possible. He assured him that his

concerns in Hispaniola were attended to faithfully in his absence; he

asked him to write to the governor in reply, as he wished to return at

once.

This was but scant comfort for men who had been eight months waiting to

be relieved. But Escobar was master of the position. Columbus wrote

a reply at once to Ovando, pointed out that the difficulties of his

situation had been increased by the rebellion of the brothers Porras.

He, however, expressed his reliance on his promise, and said he would

remain patiently on his ships until relief came. Escobar took the

letter, returned to his vessel, and she made sail at once, leaving the

starving Spaniards in dismay, to the same fate which hung over them

before.

Columbus tried to reassure them. He professed himself satisfied with the

communications from Ovando, and told them that vessels large enough for

them would soon arrive. He said that they could see that he believed

this, because he had not himself taken passage with Escobar, preferring

to share their lot with them. He had sent back the little vessel at

once, so that no time might be lost in sending the necessary ships.

With these assurances he cheered their hearts. In truth, however, he was

very indignant at Ovando’s cool behavior. That he should have left them

for months in danger and uncertainty, with a mere tantalizing message

and a scanty present of food--all this naturally made the great leader

indignant. He believed that Ovando hoped that he might perish on the

island.

He supposed that Ovando thought that this would be favorable for his own

political prospects, and he believed that Escobar was sent merely as a

spy. This same impression is given by Las Casas, the historian, who was

then at San Domingo. He says that Escobar was chosen simply because of

his enmity to Columbus, and that he was ordered not to land, nor to

hold conversation with any of the crew, nor to receive letters from any

except the Admiral.

After Escobar’s departure, Columbus sent an embassy on shore to

communicate with the rebel party, who were living on the island. He

offered to them free pardon, kind treatment, and a passage with him in

the ships which he expected from Ovando, and, as a token of good will,

he sent them a part of the bacon which Escobar had brought them.

Francesco de Porras met these ambassadors, and replied that they had no

wish to return to the ships, but preferred living at large. They offered

to engage that they would be peaceable, if the Admiral would promise

them solemnly, that, in case two vessels arrived, they should have one

to depart in; that if only one vessel arrived they should have half

of it, and that the Admiral would now share with them the stores and

articles of traffic, which he had left in the ship. But these demands

Columbus refused to accept.

Porras had spoken for the rebels, but they were not so well satisfied

with the answer. The incident gave occasion for what was almost an

outbreak among them. Porras attempted to hold them in hand, by assuring

them that there had been no real arrival of Escobar. He told them that

there had been no vessel in port; that what had been seen was a mere

phantasm conjured up by Columbus, who was deeply versed in necromancy.

He reminded them that the vessel arrived just in the edge of the

evening; that it communicated with Columbus only, and then disappeared

in the night. Had it been a real vessel would he not have embarked, with

his brother and his son? Was it not clear that it was only a phantom,

which appeared for a moment and then vanished?

Not satisfied, however, with his control over his men, he marched them

to a point near the ships, hoping to plunder the stores and to take the

Admiral prisoner. Columbus, however, had notice of the approach of this

marauding party, and his brother and fifty followers, of whose loyalty

he was sure, armed themselves and marched to meet them. The Adelantado

again sent ambassadors, the same whom he had sent before with the

offer of pardon, but Porras and his companions would not permit them to

approach.

They determined to offer battle to the fifty loyal men, thinking to

attack and kill the Adelantado himself. They rushed upon him and his

party, but at the first shock four or five of them were killed.

The Adelantado, with his own hand, killed Sanchez, one of the most

powerful men among the rebels. Porras attacked him in turn, and with

his sword cut his buckler and wounded his hand. The sword, however,

was wedged in the shield, and before Porras could withdraw it, the

Adelantado closed upon him and made him prisoner. When the rebels saw

this result of the conflict, they fled in confusion.

The Indians, meanwhile, amazed at this conflict among men who had

descended from heaven, gazed with wonder at the battle. When it was

over, they approached the field, and looked with amazement on the

dead bodies of the beings whom they had thought immortal. It is said,

however, that at the mere sound of a groan from one of the wounded they

fled in dismay.

The Adelantado returned in triumph to the ships. He brought with him

his prisoners. Only two of his party had been wounded, himself and his

steward. The next day the remaining fugitives sent in a petition to the

Admiral, confessing their misdeeds and asking for pardon.

He saw that their union was broken; he granted their prayer, on the

single condition that Francesco de Porras should remain a prisoner. He

did not receive them on board the ships, but put them under the command

of a loyal officer, to whom he gave a sufficient number of articles for

trade, to purchase food of the natives.

This battle, for it was such, was the last critical incident in the long

exile of the Spaniards, for, after a year of hope and fear, two vessels

were seen standing into the harbor. One of them was a ship equipped,

at Columbus’s own expense, by the faithful Mendez; the other had been

fitted out afterwards by Ovando, but had sailed in company with the

first vessel of relief.

It would seem that the little public of Isabella had been made indignant

by Ovando’s neglect, and that he had been compelled, by public opinion

to send another vessel as a companion to that sent by Mendez. Mendez

himself, having seen the ships depart, went to Spain in the interest of

the Admiral.

With the arrival at Puerto Bueno, in Jamaica, of the two relief vessels,

Columbus’s chief sufferings and anxiety were over. The responsibility,

at least, was in other hands. But the passage to San Domingo consumed

six tedious weeks. When he arrived, however, it was to meet one of his

triumphs. He could hardly have expected it.

But his sufferings, and the sense of wrong that he had suffered, had, in

truth, awakened the regard of the people of the colony. Ovando took him

as a guest to his house. The people received him with distinction.

He found little to gratify him, however. Ovando, had ruled the poor

natives with a rod of iron, and they were wretched. Columbus’s own

affairs had been neglected, and he could gain no relief from the

governor. He spent only a month on the island, trying, as best he could,

to bring some order into the administration of his own property; and

then, on the twelfth of September, 1504, sailed for Spain.

Scarcely had the ship left harbor when she was dismasted in a squall. He

was obliged to cross to another ship, under command of his brother,

the Adelantado. She also was unfortunate. Her mainmast was sprung in a

storm, and she could not go on until the mast was shortened.

In another gale the foremast was sprung, and it was only on the seventh

of November that the shattered and storm-pursued vessel arrived at San

Lucar. Columbus himself had been suffering, through the voyage, from

gout and his other maladies. The voyage was, indeed, a harsh experience

for a sick man, almost seventy years old.

He went at once to Seville, to find such rest as he might, for body and

mind.

The Life of Columbus From His Own Letters and Journals and Other Documents of His Time · 第 12 / 13 章