“In the same manner you will tell their Highnesses how the lawyer

Gil Garcia came here for Alcalde Mayor and no salary has been named

or assigned to him; and he is a capable person, well educated and

diligent, and is very necessary here; that I entreat their

Highnesses to order his salary named and assigned, so that he can

sustain himself, and that it may be paid from the money allowed for

salaries here.

“[Their Highnesses order 20,000 maravedis besides his salary

assigned to him each year, as long as he remains yonder, and

that it shall be paid him when his salary is paid.]

“Item. You will say to their Highnesses, although it is already

written in the letters, that I do not think it will be possible to

go to make discoveries this year, until these rivers in which gold

is found are placed in the most suitable condition for the service

of their Highnesses, as afterwards it can be done much better.

Because it is a thing which no one can do without my presence,

according to my will or for the service of their Highnesses, however

well it may be done, as it is doubtful what will be satisfactory to

a man unless he is present.

[“Let him endeavour that the amount of this gold may be known

as precisely as possible.]

“Item. You will say to their Highnesses that the Squires who came

from Granada showed good horses in the review which took place at

Seville, and afterward at the embarkation I did not see them because

I was slightly unwell, and they replaced them with such horses that

the best of them do not appear to be worth 2000 maravedis, as they

sold the others and bought these; and this was done in the same way

to many people as I very well saw yonder, in the reviews at Seville.

It appears that Juan de Soria, after he had been given the money for

the wages, for some interest of his own substituted others in place

of those I expected to find here, and I found people whom I had

never seen. In this matter he was guilty of great wickedness, so

that I do not know if I should complain of him alone. On this

account, having seen that the expenses of these Squires have been

defrayed until now, besides their wages and also wages for their

horses, and it is now being done: and they are persons who, when

they are sick or when they do not desire to do so, will not allow

any use to be made of their horses save by themselves: and their,

Highnesses do not desire that these horses should be purchased of

them, but that they should be used in the service of their

Highnesses: and it does not appear to them that they should do

anything or render any service except on horseback, which at the

present time is not much to the purpose: on this account, it seems

that it would be better to buy the horses from them, since they are

of so little value, and not have these disagreements with them every

day. Therefore their Highnesses may determine this as will best

serve them.

[“Their Highnesses order Don Juan de Fonseca to inform himself

in regard to this matter of the horses, and if it shall be

found true that this fraud was committed, those persons shall

be sent to their Highnesses to be punished: and also he is to

inform himself in regard to what is said of the other people,

and send the result in the examination to their Highnesses; and

in regard to these Squires, their Highnesses command that they

remain there and render service, since they belong to the

guards and servants of their Highnesses: and their Highnesses

order the Squires to give up the horses each time it is

necessary and the Admiral orders it, and if the horses receive

any injury through others using them, their Highnesses order

that the damage shall be paid to them by means of the Admiral.]

“Item. You will say to their Highnesses that more than 200 persons

have come here without wages, and there are some of them who render

good service. And as it is ordered that the others rendering

similar service should be paid: and as for these first three years

it would be of great benefit to have 1000 men here to settle, and

place this island and the rivers of gold in very great security, and

even though there were 100 horsemen nothing would be lost, but

rather it seems necessary, although their Highnesses will be able to

do without these horsemen until gold is sent: nevertheless, their

Highnesses must send to say whether wages shall be paid to these 200

persons, the same as to the others rendering good service, because

they are certainly necessary, as I have said in the beginning of

this memorandum.

[“In regard to these 200 persons, who are here said to have

gone without wages, their Highnesses order that they shall take

the places of those who went for wages, who have failed or

shall fail to fulfil their engagements, if they are skilful and

satisfactory to the Admiral. And their Highnesses order the

Purser (Contador) to enrol them in place of those who fail to

fulfil their engagements, as the Admiral shall instruct him.]

“Item. As the cost of these people can be in some degree lightened

and the better part of the expense could be avoided by the same

means employed by other Princes in other places: it appears, that it

would be well to order brought in the ships, besides the other

things which are for the common maintenance and the medicines, shoes

and the skins from which to order the shoes made, common shirts and

others, jackets, linen, sack-coats, trowsers and cloths suitable for

wearing apparel, at reasonable prices: and other things like

conserves which are not included in rations and are for the

preservation of health, which things all the people here would

willingly receive to apply on their wages and if these were

purchased yonder in Spain by faithful Ministers who would act for

the advantage of their Highnesses, something would be saved.

Therefore you will learn the will of their Highnesses about this

matter, and if it appears to them to be of benefit to them, then it

must be placed in operation.

[“This arrangement is to be in abeyance until the Admiral

writes more fully, and at another time they will send to order

Don Juan de Fonseca with Jimeno de Bribiesca to make provision

for the same.]

“Item. You will say to their Highnesses that inasmuch as yesterday

in the review people were found who were without arms, which I think

happened in part by that exchange which took place yonder in

Seville, or in the harbour when those who presented themselves armed

were left, and others were taken who gave something to those who

made the exchange, it seems that it would be well to order 200

cuirasses sent, and 100 muskets and 100 crossbows, and a large

quantity of arsenal supplies, which is what we need most, and all

these arms can be given to those who are unarmed.

[“Already Don Juan de Fonseca has been written to make

provision for this.]

“Item. Inasmuch as some artisans who came here, such as masons and

other workmen, are married and have wives yonder in Spain, and would

like to have what is owing them from their wages given to their

wives or to the persons to whom they will send their requirements in

order that they may buy for them the things which they need here I

supplicate their Highnesses to order it paid to them, because it is

for their benefit to have these persons provided for here.

[“Their Highnesses have already sent orders to Don Juan de

Fonseca to make provision for this matter.]

“Item. Because, besides the other things which are asked for there

according to the memoranda which you are carrying signed by my hand,

for the maintenance of the persons in good health as well as for the

sick ones, it would be very well to have fifty casks of molasses

(miel de azucar) from the island of Madeira, as it is the best

sustenance in the world and the most healthful, and it does not

usually cost more than two ducats per cask, without the cask: and if

their Highnesses order some caravel to stop there in returning, it

can be purchased and also ten cases of sugar, which is very

necessary; as this is the best season of the year to obtain it, I

say between the present time and the month of April, and to obtain

it at a reasonable price. If their Highnesses command it, the order

could be given, and it would not be known there for what place it is

wanted.

[“Let Don Juan de Fonseca make provision for this matter.]

“Item. You will say to their Highnesses that although the rivers

contain gold in the quantity related by those who have seen it, yet

it is certain that the gold is not engendered in the rivers but

rather on the land, the waters of the rivers which flow by the mines

bringing it enveloped in the sands: and as among these rivers which

have been discovered there are some very large ones, there are

others so small that they are fountains rather than rivers, which

are not more than two fingers of water in depth, and then the source

from which they spring may be found: for this reason not only

labourers to gather it in the sand will be profitable, but others to

dig for it in the earth, which will be the most particular operation

and produce a great quantity. And for this, it will be well for

their Highnesses to send labourers, and from among those who work

yonder in Spain in the mines of Almaden, that the work may be done

in both ways. Although we will not await them here, as with the

labourers we have here we hope, with the aid of God, once the people

are in good health, to amass a good quantity of gold to be sent on

the first caravels which return.

[“This will be fully provided for in another manner. In the

meantime their Highnesses order Don Yuan de Fonseca to send the

best miners he can obtain; and to write to Almaden to have the

greatest possible number taken from there and sent.]

“Item. You will entreat their Highnesses very humbly on my part, to

consider Villacorta as speedily recommended to them, who, as their

Highnesses know, has rendered great service in this business, and

with a very good will, and as I know him, he is a diligent person

and very devoted to their service: it will be a favour to me if he

is given some confidential charge for which he is fitted, and where

he can show his desire to serve them and his diligence: and this you

will obtain in such a way that Villacorta may know by the result,

that what he has done for me when I needed him profits him in this

manner.

[“It will be done thus.]

“Item. That the said Mosen Pedro and Gaspar and Beltran and others

who have remained here gave up the captainship of caravels, which

have now returned, and are not receiving wages: but because they are

persons who must be employed in important matters and of confidence,

their compensation, which must be different from the others, has not

been determined. You will entreat their Highnesses on my part to

determine what is to be given them each year, or by the month,

according to their service.

“Done in the city of Isabella, January 30, 1494.

[“This has already been replied to above, but as it is stated

in the said item that they enjoy their salary, from the present

time their Highnesses order that their wages shall be paid to

all of them from the time they left their captainships.”]

This document is worth studying, written as it was in circumstances that

at one moment looked desperate and at another were all hope. Columbus

was struggling manfully with difficulties that were already beginning to

be too much for him. The Man from Genoa, with his guiding star of faith

in some shore beyond the mist and radiance of the West--see into what

strange places and to what strange occupations this star has led him!

The blue visionary eyes, given to seeing things immediately beyond the

present horizon, must fix themselves on accounts and requisitions, on the

needs of idle, aristocratic, grumbling Spaniards; must fix themselves

also on that blank void in the bellies of his returning ships, where the

gold ought to have been. The letter has its practical side; the

requisitions are made with good sense and a grasp of the economic

situation; but they have a deeper significance than that. All this talk

about little ewe lambs, wine and bacon (better than the last lot, if it

please your Highnesses), little yearling calves, and fifty casks of

molasses that can be bought a ducat or two cheaper in Madeira in the

months of April and May than at any other time or place, is only half

real. Columbus fills his Sovereigns’ ears with this clamour so that he

shall not hear those embarrassing questions that will inevitably be asked

about the gold and the spices. He boldly begins his letter with the old

story about “indications of spices” and gold “in incredible quantities,”

with a great deal of “moreover” and “besides,” and a bold, pompous,

pathetic “I will undertake”; and then he gets away from that subject by

wordy deviations, so that to one reading his letter it really might seem

as though the true business of the expedition was to provide Coronel,

Mosen Pedro, Gaspar, Beltran, Gil Garcia, and the rest of them with work

and wages. Everything that occurs to him, great or little, that makes it

seem as though things were humming in the new settlement, he stuffs into

this document, shovelling words into the empty hulls of the ships, and

trying to fill those bottomless pits with a stream of talk. A system of

slavery is boldly and bluntly sketched; the writer, in the hurry and

stress of the moment, giving to its economic advantages rather greater

prominence than to its religious glories. The memorandum, for all its

courageous attempt to be very cool and orderly and practical, gives us,

if ever a human document did, a picture of a man struggling with an

impossible situation which he will not squarely face, like one who should

try to dig up the sea-shore and keep his eyes shut the while.

In the royal comments written against the document one seems to trace the

hand of Isabella rather than of Ferdinand. Their tone is matter-of-fact,

cool, and comforting, like the coolness of a woman’s hand placed on a

feverish brow. Isabella believed in him; perhaps she read between the

lines of this document, and saw, as we can see, how much anxiety and

distress were written there; and her comments are steadying and

encouraging. He has done well; what he asks is being attended to; their

Highnesses are well informed in regard to this and that matter; suitable

provision will be made for everything; but let him endeavour that the

amount of this gold may be known as precisely as possible. There is no

escaping from that. The Admiral (no one knows it better than himself)

must make good his dazzling promises, and coin every boastful word into a

golden excelente of Spain. Alas! he must no longer write about the lush

grasses, the shining rivers, the brightly coloured parrots, the gaudy

flies and insects, the little singing birds, and the nights that are like

May in Cordova. He must find out about the gold; for it has come to grim

business in the Earthly Paradise.

DESPERATE REMEDIES

CHAPTER I

THE VOYAGE TO CUBA

The sight of the greater part of their fleet disappearing in the

direction of home threw back the unstable Spanish colony into doubt and

despondency. The brief encouragement afforded by Ojeda’s report soon

died away, and the actual discomforts of life in Isabella were more

important than visionary luxuries that seemed to recede into the distance

with the vanishing ships. The food supply was the cause of much

discomfort; the jobbery and dishonesty which seem inseparable from the

fitting out of a large expedition had stored the ships with bad wine and

imperfectly cured provisions; and these combined with the unhealthy

climate to produce a good deal of sickness. The feeling against

Columbus, never far below the Spanish surface, began to express itself

definitely in treacherous consultations and plots; and these were

fomented by Bernal Diaz, the comptroller of the colony, who had access to

Columbus’s papers and had seen the letter sent by him to Spain. Columbus

was at this time prostrated by an attack of fever, and Diaz took the

opportunity to work the growing discontent up to the point of action. He

told the colonists that Columbus had painted their condition in far too

favourable terms; that he was deceiving them as well as the Sovereigns;

and a plot was hatched to seize the ships that remained and sail for

home, leaving Columbus behind to enjoy the riches that he had falsely

boasted about. They were ready to take alarm at anything, and to believe

anything one way or the other; and as they had believed Ojeda when he

came back with his report of riches, now they believed Cado, the assayer,

who said that even such gold as had been found was of a very poor and

worthless quality. The mutiny developed fast; and a table of charges

against Columbus, which was to be produced in Spain as a justification

for it, had actually been drawn up when the Admiral, recovering from his

illness, discovered what was on foot. He dealt promptly and firmly with

it in his quarterdeck manner, which was always far more effective than

his viceregal manner. Diaz was imprisoned and lodged in chains on board

one of the ships, to be sent to Spain for trial; and the other

ringleaders were punished also according to their deserts. The guns and

ammunition were all stored together on one ship under a safe guard, and

the mutiny was stamped out. But the Spaniards did not love Columbus any

the better for it; did not any the more easily forgive him for being in

command of them and for being a foreigner.

But it would never do for the colony to stagnate in Isabella, and

Columbus decided to make a serious attempt, not merely to discover the

gold of Cibao, but to get it. He therefore organised a military

expedition of about 400 men, including artificers, miners, and carriers,

with the little cavalry force that had been brought out from Spain.

Every one who had armour wore it, flags and banners were carried, drums

and trumpets were sounded; the horses were decked out in rich caparisons,

and as glittering and formidable a show was made as possible. Leaving

his brother James in command of the settlement, Columbus set out on the

12th of March to the interior of the island. Through the forest and up

the mountainside a road was cut by pioneers from among the aristocratic

adventurers who had come with the party; which road, the first made in

the New World, was called El Puerto de los Hidalgos. The formidable,

glittering cavalcade inspired the natives with terror and amazement; they

had never seen horses before, and when one of the soldiers dismounted it

seemed to them as though some terrifying two-headed, six-limbed beast had

come asunder. What with their fright of the horses and their desire to

possess the trinkets that were carried they were very friendly and

hospitable, and supplied the expedition with plenty of food. At last,

after passing mountain ranges that made their hearts faint, and rich

valleys that made them hopeful again, the explorers came to the mountains

of Cibao, and passing over the first range found themselves in a little

valley at the foot of the hills where a river wound round a fertile plain

and there was ample accommodation for an encampment. There were the

usual signs of gold, and Columbus saw in the brightly coloured stones of

the river-bed evidence of unbounded wealth in precious stones. At last

he had come to the place! He who had doubted so much, and whose faith

had wavered, had now been led to a place where he could touch and handle

the gold and jewels of his desire; and he therefore called the place

Saint Thomas. He built a fort here, leaving a garrison of fifty-six men

under the command of Pedro Margarite to collect gold from the natives,

and himself returned to Isabella, which he reached at the end of March.

Enforced absence from the thing he has organised is a great test of

efficiency in any man. The world is full of men who can do things

themselves; but those who can organise from the industry of their men a

machine which will steadily perform the work whether the organiser is

absent or present are rare indeed. Columbus was one of the first class.

His own power and personality generally gave him some kind of mastery

over any circumstances in which he was immediately concerned; but let him

be absent for a little time, and his organisation went to pieces. No one

was better than he at conducting a one-man concern; and his conduct of

the first voyage, so long as he had his company under his immediate

command, was a model of efficiency. But when the material under his

command began to grow and to be divided into groups his life became a

succession of ups and downs. While he was settling and disciplining one

group mutiny and disorder would attack the other; and when he went to

attend to them, the first one immediately fell into confusion again. He

dealt with the discontent in Isabella, organising the better disposed

part of it in productive labour, and himself marching the malcontents

into something like discipline and order, leaving them at Saint Thomas,

as we have seen, usefully collecting gold. But while he was away the

people at Isabella had got themselves into trouble again, and when he

arrived there on the morning of March 29th he found the town in a

deplorable condition. The lake beside which the city had been built, and

which seemed so attractive and healthy a spot, turned out to be nothing

better than a fever trap. Drained from the malarial marshes, its sickly

exhalations soon produced an epidemic that incapacitated more than half

the colony and interrupted the building operations. The time of those

who were well was entirely occupied with the care of those who were sick,

and all productive work was at a standstill. The reeking virgin soil had

produced crops in an incredibly short time, and the sowings of January

were ready for reaping in the beginning of April. But there was no one

to reap them, and the further cultivation of the ground had necessarily

been neglected.

The faint-hearted Spaniards, who never could meet any trouble without

grumbling, were now in the depths of despair and angry discontent;

and it had not pleased them to be put on a short allowance of even the

unwholesome provisions that remained from the original store. A couple

of rude hand-mills had been erected for the making of flour, and as food

was the first necessity Columbus immediately put all the able-bodied men

in the colony, whatever their rank, to the elementary manual work of

grinding. Friar Buil and the twelve Benedictine brothers who were with

him thought this a wise order, assuming of course that as clerics they

would not be asked to work. But great was their astonishment, and loud

and angry their criticism of the Admiral, when they found that they also

were obliged to labour with their hands. But Columbus was firm; there

were absolutely no exceptions made; hidalgo and priest had to work

alongside of sailor and labourer; and the curses of the living mingled

with those of the dying on the man whose boastful words had brought them

to such a place and such a condition.

It was only in the nature of things that news should now arrive of

trouble at Saint Thomas. Gold and women again; instead of bartering or

digging, the Spaniards had been stealing; and discipline had been

relaxed, with the usual disastrous results with regard to the women of

the adjacent native tribes. Pedro Margarite sent a nervous message to

Columbus expressing his fear that Caonabo, the native king, should be

exasperated to the point of attacking them again. Columbus therefore

despatched Ojeda in command of a force of 350 armed men to Saint Thomas

with instructions that he was to take over the command of that post,

while Margarite was to take out an expedition in search of Caonabo whom,

with his brothers, Margarite was instructed to capture at all costs.

Having thus set things going in the interior, and once more restored

Isabella to something like order, he decided to take three ships and

attempt to discover the coast of Cathay. The old Nina, the San Juan, and

the Cordera, three small caravels, were provisioned for six months and

manned by a company of fifty-two men. Francisco Nino went once more with

the Admiral as pilot, and the faithful Juan de la Cosa was taken to draw

charts; one of the monks also, to act as chaplain. The Admiral had a

steward, a secretary, ten seamen and six boys to complete the company on

the Nina. The San Juan was commanded by Alonso Perez Roldan and the

Cordera by Christoval Nino. Diego was again left in command of the

colony, with four counsellors, Friar Buil, Fernandez Coronel, Alonso

Sanchez Carvajal, and Juan de Luxan, to assist his authority.

The Admiral sailed on April 24th, steering to the westward and touching

at La Navidad before he bore away to the island of Cuba, the southern

shore of which it was now his intention to explore. At one of his first

anchorages he discovered a native feast going on, and when the boats from

his ships pulled ashore the feasters fled in terror--the hungry Spaniards

finishing their meal for them. Presently, however, the feasters were

induced to come back, and Columbus with soft speeches made them a

compensation for the food that had been taken, and produced a favourable

impression, as his habit was; with the result that all along the coast he

was kindly received by the natives, who supplied him with food and fresh

fruit in return for trinkets. At the harbour now known as Santiago de

Cuba, where he anchored on May 2nd, he had what seemed like authentic

information of a great island to the southward which was alleged to be

the source of all the gold. The very compasses of Columbus’s ships seem

by this time to have become demagnetised, and to have pointed only to

gold; for no sooner had he heard this report than he bore away to the

south in pursuit of that faint yellow glitter that had now quite taken

the place of the original inner light of faith.

The low coast of Jamaica, hazy and blue at first, but afterwards warming

into a golden belt crowned by the paler and deeper greens of the foliage,

was sighted first by Columbus on Sunday, May 4th; and he anchored the

next day in the beautiful harbour of Saint Anne, to which he gave the

name of Santa Gloria. To the island itself he gave the name of Santiago,

which however has never displaced its native name of Jamaica. The dim

blue mountains and clumps of lofty trees about the bay were wonderful

even to Columbus, whose eyes must by this time have been growing

accustomed to the beauty of the West Indies, and he lost his heart to

Jamaica from the first moment that his eyes rested on its green and

golden shores. Perhaps he was by this time a little out of conceit with

Hayti; but be that as it may he retracted all the superlatives he had

ever used for the other lands of his discovery, and bestowed them in his

heart upon Jamaica.

He was not humanly so well received as he had been on the other islands,

for when he cast anchor the natives came out in canoes threatening

hostilities and had to be appeased with red caps and hawks’ bells. Next

day, however, Columbus wished to careen his ships, and sailed a little to

the west until he found a suitable beach at Puerto Bueno; and as he

approached the shore some large canoes filled with painted and feathered

warriors came out and attacked his ships, showering arrows and javelins,

and whooping and screaming at the Spaniards. The guns were discharged,

and an armed party sent ashore in a boat, and the natives were soon put

to flight. There was no renewal of hostilities; the next day the local

cacique came down offering provisions and help; presents were exchanged,

and cordial relations established. Columbus noticed that the Jamaicans

seemed to be a much more virile community than either the Cubans or the

people of Espanola. They had enormous canoes hollowed out of single

mahogany trees, some of them 96 feet long and 8 feet broad, which they

handled with the greatest ease and dexterity; they had a merry way with

them too, were quick of apprehension and clever at expressing their

meaning, and in their domestic utensils and implements they showed an

advance in civilisation on the other islanders of the group. Columbus

did some trade with the islanders as he sailed along the coast, but he

does not seem to have believed much in the gold story, for after sailing

to the western point of the island he bore away to the north again and

sighted the coast of Cuba on the 18th of May.

The reason why Columbus kept returning to the coast of Cuba was that he

believed it to be the mainland of Asia. The unlettered natives, who had

never read Marco Polo, told him that it was an island, although no man

had ever seen the end of it; but Columbus did not believe them, and

sailed westward in the belief that he would presently come upon the

country and city of Cathay. Soon he found himself in the wonderful

labyrinth of islets and sandbanks off the south coast; and because of the

wonderful colours of their flowers and climbing plants he called them

Jardin de la Reina or Queen’s Garden. Dangerous as the navigation

through these islands was, he preferred to risk the shoals and sandbanks

rather than round them out at sea to the southward, for he believed them

to be the islands which, according to Marco Polo, lay in masses along the

coast of Cathay. In this adventure he had a very hard time of it; the

lead had to be used all the time, the ships often had to be towed, the

wind veered round from every quarter of the compass, and there were

squalls and tempests, and currents that threatened to set them ashore.

By great good fortune, however, they managed to get through the

Archipelago without mishap. By June 3rd they were sailing along the

coast again, and Columbus had some conversation with an old cacique who

told him of a province called Mangon (or so Columbus understood him) that

lay to the west. Sir John Mandeville had described the province of Mangi

as being the richest in Cathay; and of course, thought the Admiral, this

must be the place. He went westward past the Gulf of Xagua and got into

the shallow sandy waters, now known as the Jardinillos Bank, where the

sea was whitened with particles of sand. When he had got clear of this

shoal water he stood across a broad bay towards a native settlement where

he was able to take in yams, fruit, fish, and fresh water.

But this excitement and hard work were telling on the Admiral, and when a

native told him that there was a tribe close by with long tails, he

believed him; and later, when one of his men, coming back from a shore

expedition, reported that he had seen some figures in a forest wearing

white robes, Columbus believed that they were the people with the tails,

who wore a long garment to conceal them.

He was moving in a world of enchantment; the weather was like no weather

in any known part of the world; there were fogs, black and thick, which

blew down suddenly from the low marshy land, and blew away again as

suddenly; the sea was sometimes white as milk, sometimes black as pitch,

sometimes purple, sometimes green; scarlet cranes stood looking at them

as they slid past the low sandbanks; the warm foggy air smelt of roses;

shoals of turtles covered the waters, black butterflies circled in the

mist; and the fever that was beginning to work in the Admiral’s blood

mounted to his brain, so that in this land of bad dreams his fixed ideas

began to dominate all his other faculties, and he decided that he must

certainly be on the coast of Cathay, in the magic land described by Marco

Polo.

There is nothing which illustrates the arbitrary and despotic government

of sea life so well as the nautical phrase “make it so.” The very hours

of the day, slipping westward under the keel of an east-going ship, are

“made” by rigid decree; the captain takes his observation of sun or

stars, and announces the position of the ship to be at a certain spot on

the surface of the globe; any errors of judgment or deficiencies of

method are covered by the words “make it so.” And in all the elusive

phenomena surrounding him the fevered brain of the Admiral discerned

evidence that he was really upon the coast of Asia, although there was no

method by which he could place the matter beyond a doubt. The word Asia

was not printed upon the sands of Cuba, as it might be upon a map; the

lines of longitude did not lie visibly across the surface of the sea;

there was nothing but sea and land, the Admiral’s charts, and his own

conviction. Therefore Columbus decided to “make it so.” If there was no

other way of being sure that this was the coast of Cathay, he would

decree it to be the coast of Cathay by a legal document and by oaths and

affidavits. He would force upon the members of his expedition a

conviction at least equal to his own; and instead of pursuing any further

the coast that stretched interminably west and south-west, he decided to

say, in effect, and once and for all, “Let this be the mainland of Asia.”

He called his secretary to him and made him draw up a form of oath or

testament, to which every member of the expedition was required to

subscribe, affirming that the land off which they were then lying (12th

June 1494), was the mainland of the Indies and that it was possible to

return to Spain by land from that place; and every officer who should

ever deny it in the future was laid under a penalty of ten thousand

maravedis, and every ship’s boy or seaman under a penalty of one hundred

lashes; and in addition, any member of the expedition denying it in the

future was to have his tongue cut out.

No one will pretend that this was the action of a sane man; neither will

any one wonder that Columbus was something less than sane after all he

had gone through, and with the beginnings of a serious illness already in

his blood. His achievement was slipping from his grasp; the gold had not

been found, the wonders of the East had not been discovered; and it was

his instinct to secure something from the general wreck that seemed to be

falling about him, and to force his own dreams to come true, that caused

him to cut this grim and fantastic legal caper off the coast of Cuba. He

thought it at the time unlikely, seeing the difficulties of navigation

that he had gone through, which he might be pardoned for regarding as

insuperable to a less skilful mariner, that any one should ever come that

way again; even he himself said that he would never risk his life again

in such a place. He wished his journey, therefore, not to have been made

in vain; and as he himself believed that he had stood on the mainland of

Asia he took care to take back with him the only kind of evidence that

was possible namely, the sworn affidavits of the ships’ crews.

Perhaps in his madness he would really have gone on and tried to reach

the Golden Chersonesus of Ptolemy, which according to Marco Polo lay just

beyond, and so to steer homeward round Ceylon and the Cape of Good Hope;

in which case he would either have been lost or would have discovered

Mexico. The crews, however, would not hear of the voyage being continued

westward. The ships were leaking and the salt water was spoiling the

already doubtful provisions and he was forced to turn back. He stood to

the south-east, and reached the Isle of Pines, to which he gave the name

of Evangelista, where the water-casks were filled, and from there he

tried to sail back to the east. But he found himself surrounded by

islands and banks in every direction, which made any straight course

impossible. He sailed south and east and west and north, and found

himself always back again in the middle of this charmed group of islands.

He spent almost a month trying to escape from them, and once his ship

went ashore on a sandbank and was only warped off with the greatest

difficulty. On July 7th he was back again in the region of the “Queen’s

Gardens,” from which he stood across to the coast of Cuba.

He anchored and landed there, and being in great distress and difficulty

he had a large cross erected on the mainland, and had mass said. When

the Spaniards rose from their knees they saw an old native man observing

them; and the old man came and sat down beside Columbus and talked to him

through the interpreter. He told him that he had been in Jamaica and

Espanola as well as in Cuba, and that the coming of the Spaniards had

caused great distress to the people of the islands.

He then spoke to Columbus about religion, and the gist of what he said

was something like this: “The performance of your worship seems good to

me. You believe that this life is not everything; so do we; and I know

that when this life is over there are two places reserved for me, to one

of which I shall certainly go; one happy and beautiful, one dreadful and

miserable. Joy and kindness reign in the one place, which is good enough

for the best of men; and they will go there who while they have lived on

the earth have loved peace and goodness, and who have never robbed or

killed or been unkind. The other place is evil and full of shadows, and

is reserved for those who disturb and hurt the sons of men; how important

it is, therefore, that one should do no evil or injury in this world!”

Columbus replied with a brief statement of his own theological views, and

added that he had been sent to find out if there were any persons in

those islands who did evil to others, such as the Caribs or cannibals,

and that if so he had come to punish them. The effect of this ingenuous

speech was heightened by a gift of hawks’ bells and pieces of broken

glass; upon receiving which the good old man fell down on his knees, and

said that the Spaniards must surely have come from heaven.

A few days later the voyage to the, south-east was resumed, and some

progress was made along the coast. But contrary winds arose which made

it impossible for the ships to round Cape Cruz, and Columbus decided to

employ the time of waiting in completing his explorations in Jamaica.

He therefore sailed due south until he once more sighted the beautiful

northern coast of that island, following it to the west and landing, as

his custom was, whenever he saw a good harbour or anchorage. The wind

was still from the east, and he spent a month beating to the eastward

along the south coast of the island, fascinated by its beauty, and

willing to stay and explore it, but prevented by the discontent of his

crews, who were only anxious to get back to Espanola. He had friendly

interviews with many of the natives of Jamaica, and at almost the last

harbour at which he touched a cacique with his wife and family and

complete retinue came off in canoes to the ship, begging Columbus to take

him and his household back to Spain.

Columbus considers this family, and thinks wistfully how well they would

look in Barcelona. Father dressed in a cap of gold and green jewels,

necklace and earrings of the same; mother decked out in similar regalia,

with the addition of a small cotton apron; two sons and five brothers

dressed principally in a feather or two; two daughters mother-naked,

except that the elder, a handsome girl of eighteen, wears a jewelled

girdle from which depends a tablet as big as an ivy leaf, made of various

coloured stones embroidered on cotton. What an exhibit for one of the

triumphal processions: “Native royal family, complete”! But Columbus

thinks also of the scarcity of provisions on board his ships, and wonders

how all these royalties would like to live on a pint of sour wine and a

rotten biscuit each per day. Alas! there is not sour wine and rotten

biscuit enough for his own people; it is still a long way to Espanola;

and he is obliged to make polite excuses, and to say that he will come

back for his majesty another time.

It was on the 20th of August that Columbus, having the day before seen

the last of the dim blue hills of Jamaica, sighted again the long

peninsula of Hayti, called by him Cape San Miguel, but known to us as

Cape Tiburon; although it was not until he was hailed by a cacique who

called out to him “Almirante, Almirante,” that the seaworn mariners

realised with joy that the island must be Espanola. But they were a long

way from Isabella yet. They sailed along the south coast, meeting

contrary winds, and at one point landing nine men who were to cross the

island, and try to reach Isabella by land. Week followed week, and they

made very poor progress. In the beginning of September they were caught

in a severe tempest, which separated the ships for a time, and held the

Admiral weather-bound for eight days. There was an eclipse of the moon

during this period, and he took advantage of it to make an observation

for longitude, by which he found himself to be 5 hrs. 23 min., or 80 deg.

40’, west of Cadiz. In this observation there is an error of eighteen

degrees, the true longitude of the island of Saona, where the observation

was taken, being 62 deg. 20’ west of Cadiz; and the error is accounted

for partly by the inaccuracy of the tables of Regiomontanus and partly by

the crudity and inexactness of the Admiral’s methods. On the 24th of

September they at last reached the easternmost point of Espanola, named

by Columbus San Rafael. They stood to the east a little longer, and

discovered the little island of Mona, which lies between Espanola and

Puerto Rico; and from thence shaped their course west-by-north for

Isabella. And no sooner had the course been set for home than the

Admiral suddenly and completely collapsed; was carried unconscious to his

cabin; and lay there in such extremity that his companions gave him up

for lost.

It is no ordinary strain to which poor Christopher has succumbed. He has

been five months at sea, sharing with the common sailors their bad food

and weary vigils, but bearing alone on his own shoulders a weight of

anxiety of which they knew nothing. Watch has relieved watch on his

ships, but there has been no one to relieve him, or to lift the burden

from his mind. The eyes of a nation are upon him, watchful and jealous

eyes that will not forgive him any failure; and to earn their approval he

has taken this voyage of five months, during which he has only been able

to forget his troubles in the brief hours of slumber. Strange uncharted

seas, treacherous winds and currents, drenching surges have all done

their part in bringing him to this pass; and his body, now starved on

rotten biscuits, now glutted with unfamiliar fruits, has been preyed upon

by the tortured mind as the mind itself has been shaken and loosened by

the weakness of the body. He lies there in his cabin in a deep stupor;

memory, sight, and all sensation completely gone from him; dead but for

the heart that beats on faintly, and the breath that comes and goes

through the parted lips. Nino, de la Cosa, and the others come and look

at him, shake their heads, and go away again. There is nothing to be

done; perhaps they will get him back to Isabella in time to bury him

there; perhaps not.

And meanwhile they are back again in calm and safe waters, and coasting a

familiar shore; and the faithful little Nina, shaking out her wings in

the sunny breezes, trips under the guidance of unfamiliar hands towards

her moorings in the Bay of Isabella. It is a sad company that she

carries; for in the cabin, deaf and blind and unconscious, there lies the

heart and guiding spirit of the New World. He does not hear the talking

of the waters past the Nina’s timbers, does not hear the stamping on the

deck and shortening of sail and unstopping of cables and getting out of

gear; does not hear the splash of the anchor, nor the screams of birds

that rise circling from the shore. Does not hear the greetings and the

news; does not see bending over him a kind, helpful, and well-beloved

face. He sees and hears and knows nothing; and in that state of rest and

absence from the body they carry him, still living and breathing, ashore.

CHAPTER II

THE CONQUEST OF ESPANOLA

We must now go back to the time when Columbus, having made what

arrangements he could for the safety of Espanola, left it under the

charge of his brother James. Ojeda had duly marched into the interior

and taken over the command of Fort St. Thomas, thus setting free

Margarite, according to his instructions, to lead an expedition for

purposes of reconnoitre and demonstration through the island. These, at

any rate, were Margarite’s orders, duly communicated to him by Ojeda; but

Margarite will have none of them. Well born, well educated, well bred,

he ought at least to have the spirit to carry out orders so agreeable to

a gentleman of adventure; but unfortunately, although Margarite is a

gentleman by birth, he is a low and dishonest dog by nature. He cannot

take the decent course, cannot even play the man, and take his share in

the military work of the colony. Instead of cutting paths through the

forest, and exhibiting his military strength in an orderly and proper way

as the Admiral intended he should, he marches forth from St. Thomas, on

hearing that Columbus has sailed away, and encamps no further off than

the Vega Real, that pleasant place of green valleys and groves and

murmuring rivers. He encamps there, takes up his quarters there, will

not budge from there for any Admiral; and as for James Columbus and his

counsellors, they may go to the devil for all Margarite cares. One of

them at least, he knows--Friar Buil--is not such a fool as to sit down

under the command of that solemn-faced, uncouth young snip from Genoa;

and doubtless when he is tired of the Vega Real he and Buil can arrange

something between them. In the meantime, here is a very beautiful

sunshiny place, abounding in all kinds of provisions; food for more than

one kind of appetite, as he has noticed when he has thrust his rude way

into the native houses and seen the shapely daughters of the islanders.

He has a little army of soldiers to forage for him; they can get him food

and gold, and they are useful also in those other marauding expeditions

designed to replenish the seraglio that he has established in his camp;

and if they like to do a little marauding and woman-stealing on their own

account, it is no affair of his, and may keep the devils in a good

temper. Thus Don Pedro Margarite to himself.

The peaceable and gentle natives soon began to resent these gross doings.

To robbery succeeded outrage, and to outrage murder--all three committed

in the very houses of the natives; and they began to murmur, to withhold

that goodwill which the Spaniards had so sorely tried, and to develop a

threatening attitude that was soon communicated to the natives in the

vicinity of Isabella, and came under the notice of James Columbus and his

council. Grave, bookish, wool-weaving young James, not used to military

affairs, and not at all comfortable in his command, can think of no other

expedient than--to write a letter to Margarite remonstrating with him for

his licentious excesses and reminding him of the Admiral’s instructions,

which were being neglected.

Margarite receives the letter and reads it with a contemptuous laugh. He

is not going to be ordered about by a family of Italian wool-weavers, and

the only change in his conduct is that he becomes more and more careless

and impudent, extending the area of his lawless operations, and making

frequent visits to Isabella itself, swaggering under the very nose of

solemn James, and soon deep in consultation with Friar Buil.

At this moment, that is to say very soon after the departure of

Christopher on his voyage to Cuba and Jamaica, three ships dropped anchor

in the Bay of Isabella. They were laden with the much-needed supplies

from Spain, and had been sent out under the command of Bartholomew

Columbus. It will be remembered that when Christopher reached Spain

after his first voyage one of his first cares had been to write to

Bartholomew, asking him to join him. The letter, doubtless after many

wanderings, had found Bartholomew in France at the court of Charles

VIII., by whom he was held in some esteem; in fact it was Charles who

provided him with the necessary money for his journey to Spain, for

Bartholomew had not greatly prospered, in spite of his voyage with Diaz

to the Cape of Good Hope and of his having been in England making

exploration proposals at the court of Henry VII. He had arrived in Spain

after Columbus had sailed again, and had presented himself at court with

his two nephews, Ferdinand and Diego, both of whom were now in the

service of Prince Juan as pages. Ferdinand and Isabella seem to have

received Bartholomew kindly. They liked this capable navigator, who had

much of Christopher’s charm of manner, and was more a man of the world

than he. Much more practical also; Ferdinand would be sure to like him

better than he liked Christopher, whose pompous manner and long-winded

speeches bored him. Bartholomew was quick, alert, decisive and

practical; he was an accomplished navigator--almost as accomplished as

Columbus, as it appeared. He was offered the command of the three ships

which were being prepared to go to Espanola with supplies; and he duly

arrived there after a prosperous voyage. It will be remembered that

Christopher had, so far as we know, kept the secret of the road to the

new islands; and Bartholomew can have had nothing more to guide him than

a rough chart showing the islands in a certain latitude, and the distance

to be run towards them by dead-reckoning. That he should have made an

exact landfall and sailed into the Bay of Isabella, never having been

there before, was a certificate of the highest skill in navigation.

Unfortunately it was James who was in charge of the colony; Bartholomew

had no authority, for once his ships had arrived in port his mission was

accomplished until Christopher should return and find him employment.

He was therefore forced to sit still and watch his young brother

struggling with the unruly Spaniards. His presence, however, was no

doubt a further exasperation to the malcontents. There existed in

Isabella a little faction of some of the aristocrats who had never,

forgiven Columbus for employing them in degrading manual labour; who had

never forgiven him in fact for being there at all, and in command over

them. And now here was another woolweaver, or son of a wool-weaver, come

to put his finger in the pie that Christopher has apparently provided so

carefully for himself and his family.

Margarite and Buil and some others, treacherous scoundrels all of them,

but clannish to their own race and class, decide that they will put up

with it no longer; they are tired of Espanola in any case, and Margarite,

from too free indulgence among the native women, has contracted an

unpleasant disease, and thinks that a sea voyage and the attentions of a

Spanish doctor will be good for him. It is easy for them to put their

plot into execution. There are the ships; there is nothing, for them to

do but take a couple of them, provision them, and set sail for Spain,

where they trust to their own influence, and the story they will be able

to tell of the falseness of the Admiral’s promises, to excuse their

breach of discipline. And sail they do, snapping their fingers at the

wool-weavers.

James and Bartholomew were perhaps glad to be rid of them, but their

relief was tempered with anxiety as to the result on Christopher’s

reputation and favour when the malcontents should have made their false

representations at Court. The brothers were powerless to do anything in

that matter, however, and the state of affairs in Espanola demanded their

close attention. Margarite’s little army, finding itself without even

the uncertain restraint of its commander, now openly mutinied and

abandoned itself to the wildest excesses. It became scattered and

disbanded, and little groups of soldiers went wandering about the

country, robbing and outraging and carrying cruelty and oppression among

the natives. Long-suffering as these were, and patiently as they bore

with the unspeakable barbarities of the Spanish soldiers, there came a

point beyond which their forbearance would not go. An aching spirit of

unforgiveness and revenge took the place of their former gentleness and

compliance; and here and there, when the Spaniards were more brutal and

less cautious than was their brutal and incautious habit, the natives

fell upon them and took swift and bloody revenge. Small parties found

themselves besieged and put to death whole villages, whose hospitality

had been abused, cut off wandering groups of the marauders and burned the

houses where they lodged. The disaffection spread; and Caonabo, who had

never abated his resentment at the Spanish intrusion into the island,

thought the time had come to make another demonstration of native power.

Fortunately for the Spaniards his object was the fort of St. Thomas,

commanded by the alert Ojeda; and this young man, who was not easily to

be caught napping, had timely intelligence of his intention. When

Caonabo, mustering ten thousand men, suddenly surrounded the fort and

prepared to attack it, he found the fifty Spaniards of the garrison more

than ready for him, and his naked savages dared not advance within the

range of the crossbows and arquebuses. Caonabo tried to besiege the

station, watching every gorge and road through which supplies could reach

it, but Ojeda made sallies and raids upon the native force, under which

it became thinned and discouraged; and Caonabo had finally to withdraw to

his own territory.

But he was not yet beaten. He decided upon another and much larger

enterprise, which was to induce the other caciques of the island to

co-operate with him in an attack upon Isabella, the population of which

he knew would have been much thinned and weakened by disease. The

island was divided into five native provinces. The northeastern part,

named Marien, was under the rule of Guacanagari, whose headquarters were

near the abandoned La Navidad. The remaining eastern part of the

island, called Higuay, was under a chief named Cotabanama. The western

province was Xaragua, governed by one Behechio, whose sister, Anacaona,

was the wife of Caonabo. The middle of the island was divided into two

provinces-that which extended from the northern coast to the Cibao

mountains and included the Vega Real being governed by Guarionex, and

that which extended from the Cibao mountains to the south being governed

by Caonabo. All these rulers were more or less embittered by the

outrages and cruelties of the Spaniards, and all agreed to join with

Caonabo except Guacanagari. That loyal soul, so faithful to what he

knew of good, shocked and distressed as he was by outrages from which

his own people had suffered no less than the others, could not bring

himself to commit what he regarded as a breach of the laws of

hospitality. It was upon his shores that Columbus had first landed; and

although it was his own country and his own people whose wrongs were to

be avenged, he could not bring himself to turn traitor to the grave

Admiral with whom, in those happy days of the past, he had enjoyed so

much pleasant intercourse. His refusal to co-operate delayed the plan

of Caonabo, who directed the island coalition against Guacanagari

himself in order to bring him to reason. He was attacked by the

neighbouring chiefs; one of his wives was killed and another captured;

but still he would not swerve from his ideal of conduct.

The first thing that Columbus recognised when he opened his eyes after

his long period of lethargy and insensibility was the face of his brother

Bartholomew bend-over him where he lay in bed in his own house at

Espanola. Nothing could have been more welcome to him, sick, lonely and

discouraged as he was, than the presence of that strong, helpful brother;

and from the time when Bartholomew’s friendly face first greeted him he

began to get better. His first act, as soon as he was strong enough to

sign a paper, was to appoint Bartholomew to the office of Adelantado, or

Lieutenant-Governor--an indiscreet and rather tactless proceeding which,

although it was not outside his power as a bearer of the royal seal, was

afterwards resented by King Ferdinand as a piece of impudent encroachment

upon the royal prerogative. But Columbus was unable to transact business

himself, and James was manifestly of little use; the action was natural

enough.

In the early days of his convalescence he had another pleasant

experience, in the shape of a visit from Guacanagari, who came to express

his concern at the Admiral’s illness, and to tell him the story of what

had been going on in his absence. The gentle creature referred again

with tears to the massacre at La Navidad, and again asserted that

innocence of any hand in it which Columbus had happily never doubted; and

he told him also of the secret league against Isabella, of his own

refusal to join it, and of the attacks to which he had consequently been

subjected. It must have been an affecting meeting for these two, who

represented the first friendship formed between the Old World and the

New, who were both of them destined to suffer in the impact of

civilisation and savagery, and whose names and characters were happily

destined to survive that impact, and to triumph over the oblivion of

centuries.

So long as the native population remained hostile and unconquered by

kindness or force, it was impossible to work securely at the development

of the colony; and Columbus, however regretfully, had come to feel that

circumstances more or less obliged him to use force. At first he did not

quite realise the gravity of the position, and attempted to conquer or

reconcile the natives in little groups. Guarionex, the cacique of the

Vega Real, was by gifts and smooth words soothed back into a friendship

which was consolidated by the marriage of his daughter with Columbus’s

native interpreter. It was useless, how ever, to try and make friends

with Caonabo, that fierce irreconcilable; and it was felt that only by

stratagem could he be secured. No sooner was this suggested than Ojeda

volunteered for the service. Amid the somewhat slow-moving figures of

our story this man appears as lively as a flea; and he dances across our

pages in a sensation of intrepid feats of arms that make his great

popularity among the Spaniards easily credible to us. He did not know

what fear was; he was always ready for a fight of any kind; a quarrel in

the streets of Madrid, a duel, a fight with a man or a wild beast,

a brawl in a tavern or a military expedition, were all the same to him,

if only they gave him an opportunity for fighting. He had a little

picture of the Virgin hung round his neck, by which he swore, and to

which he prayed; he had never been so much as scratched in all his

affrays, and he believed that he led a charmed life. Who would go out

against Caonabo, the Goliath of the island? He, little David Ojeda, he

would go out and undertake to fetch the giant back with him; and all he

wanted was ten men, a pair of handcuffs, a handful of trinkets, horses

for the whole of his company, and his little image or picture of the

Virgin.

Columbus may have smiled at this proposal, but he knew his man; and Ojeda

duly departed with his horses and his ten men. Plunging into the forest,

he made his way through sixty leagues of dense undergrowth until he

arrived in the very heart of Caonabo’s territory and presented himself at

the chiefs house. The chief was at home, and, not unimpressed by the

valour of Ojeda, who represented himself as coming on a friendly mission,

received him under conditions of truce. He had an eye for military

prowess, this Caonabo, and something of the lion’s heart in him; he

recognised in Ojeda the little man who kept him so long at bay outside

Fort St. Thomas; and, after the manner of lion-hearted people, liked him

none the worse for that.

Ojeda proposes that the King should accompany him to Isabella to make

peace. No, says Caonabo. Then Ojeda tries another way. There is a

poetical side to this big fighting savage, and often in more friendly

days, when the bell in the little chapel of Isabella has been ringing for

Vespers, the cacique has been observed sitting alone on some hill

listening, enchanted by the strange silver voice that floated to him

across the sunset. The bell has indeed become something of a personality

in the island: all the neighbouring savages listen to its voice with awe

and fascination, pausing with inclined heads whenever it begins to speak

from its turret.

Ojeda talks to Caonabo about the bell, and tells him what a wonderful

thing it is; tells him also that if he will come with him to Isabella he

shall have the bell for a present. Poetry and public policy struggle

together in Caonabo’s heart, but poetry wins; the great powerful savage,

urged thereto by his childish lion-heart, will come to Isabella if they

will give him the bell. He sets forth, accompanied by a native retinue,

and by Ojeda and his ten horsemen. Presently they come to a river and

Ojeda produces his bright manacles; tells the King that they are royal

ornaments and that he has been instructed to bestow them upon Caonabo as

a sign of honour. But first he must come alone to the river and bathe,

which he does. Then he must sit with Ojeda upon his horse; which he

does. Then he must have fitted on to him the shining silver trinkets;

which he does, the great grinning giant, pleased with his toys. Then, to

show him what it is like to be on a horse, Ojeda canters gently round in

widening and ever widening circles; a turn of his spurred heels, and the

canter becomes a gallop, the circle becomes a straight line, and Caonabo

is on the road to Isabella. When they are well beyond reach of the

natives they pause and tie Caonabo securely into his place; and by this

treachery bring him into Isabella, where he is imprisoned in the

Admiral’s house.

The sulky giant, brought thus into captivity, refuses to bend his proud,

stubborn heart into even a form of submission. He takes no notice of

Columbus, and pays him no honour, although honour is paid to himself as

a captive king. He sits there behind his bars gnawing his fingers,

listening to the voice of the bell that has lured him into captivity,

and thinking of the free open life which he is to know no more. Though

he will pay no deference to the Admiral, will not even rise when he

enters his presence, there is one person he holds in honour, and that is

Ojeda. He will not rise when the Admiral comes; but when Ojeda comes,

small as he is, and without external state, the chief makes his obeisance

to him. The Admiral he sets at defiance, and boasts of his destruction

of La Navidad, and of his plan to destroy Isabella; Ojeda he respects and

holds in honour, as being the only man in the island brave enough to come

into his house and carry him off a captive. There is a good deal of the

sportsman in Caonabo.

The immediate result of the capture of Caonabo was to rouse the islanders

to further hostilities, and one of the brothers of the captive king led a

force of seven thousand men to the vicinity of St. Thomas, to which

Ojeda, however, had in the meantime returned. His small force was

augmented by some men despatched by Bartholomew Columbus on receipt of an

urgent message; and in command of this force Ojeda sallied forth against

the natives and attacked them furiously on horse and on foot, killing a

great part of them, taking others prisoner, and putting the rest to

flight. This was the beginning of the end of the island resistance. A

month or two later, when Columbus was better, he and Bartholomew together

mustered the whole of their available army and marched out in search of

the native force, which he knew had been rallied and greatly augmented.

The two forces met near the present town of Santiago, in the plain known

as the Savanna of Matanza. The Spanish force was divided into three main

divisions, under the command of Christopher and Bartholomew Columbus and

Ojeda respectively. These three divisions attacked the Indians

simultaneously from different points, Ojeda throwing his cavalry upon

them, riding them down, and cutting them to pieces. Drums were beaten

and trumpets blown; the guns were fired from the cover of the trees; and

a pack of bloodhounds, which had been sent out from Spain with

Bartholomew, were let loose upon the natives and tore their bodies to

pieces. It was an easy and horrible victory. The native force was

estimated by Columbus at one hundred thousand men, although we shall

probably be nearer the mark if we reduce that estimate by one half.

The powers of hell were let loose that day into the Earthly Paradise.

The guns mowed red lines of blood through the solid ranks of the natives;

the great Spanish horses trod upon and crushed their writhing bodies, in

which arrows and lances continually stuck and quivered; and the ferocious

dogs, barking and growling, seized the naked Indians by the throat,

dragged them to the ground, and tore out their very entrails . . . .

Well for us that the horrible noises of that day are silent now; well for

the world that that place of bloodshed and horror has grown green again;

better for us and for the world if those cries had never been heard, and

that quiet place had never received a stain that centuries of green

succeeding springtides can never wash away.

It was some time before this final battle that the convalescence of the

Admiral was further assisted by the arrival of four ships commanded by

Antonio Torres, who must have passed, out of sight and somewhere on the

high seas, the ships bearing Buil and Margarite back to Spain. He

brought with him a large supply of fresh provisions for the colony, and a

number of genuine colonists, such as fishermen, carpenters, farmers,

mechanics, and millers. And better still he brought a letter from the

Sovereigns, dated the 16th of August 1494, which did much to cheer the

shaken spirits of Columbus. The words with which he had freighted his

empty ships had not been in vain; and in this reply to them he was warmly

commended for his diligence, and reminded that he enjoyed the unshaken

confidence of the Sovereigns. They proposed that a caravel should sail

every month from Spain and from Isabella, bearing intelligence of the

colony and also, it was hoped, some of its products. In a general letter

addressed to the colony the settlers were reminded of the obedience they

owed to the Admiral, and were instructed to obey him in all things under

the penalty of heavy fines. They invited Columbus to come back if he

could in order to be present at the convention which was to establish the

line of demarcation between Spanish and Portuguese possessions; or if he

could not come himself to send his brother Bartholomew. There were

reasons, however, which made this difficult. Columbus wished to despatch

the ships back again as speedily as possible, in order that news of him

might help to counteract the evil rumours that he knew Buil and Margarite

would be spreading. He himself was as yet (February 1494) too ill to

travel; and during his illness Bartholomew could not easily be spared.

It was therefore decided to send home James, who could most easily be

spared, and whose testimony as a member of the governing body during the

absence of the Admiral on his voyage to Cuba might be relied upon to

counteract the jealous accusations of Margarite and Buil.

Unfortunately there was no golden cargo to send back with him. As much

gold as possible was scraped together, but it was very little. The usual

assortment of samples of various island products was also sent; but still

the vessels were practically empty. Columbus must have been painfully

conscious that the time for sending samples had more than expired, and

that the people in Spain might reasonably expect some of the actual

riches of which there had been so many specimens and promises. In

something approaching desperation, he decided to fill the empty holds of

the ships with something which, if it was not actual money, could at

least be made to realise money. From their sunny dreaming life on the

island five hundred natives were taken and lodged in the dark holds of

the caravels, to be sent to Spain and sold there for what they would

fetch. Of course they were to be “freed” and converted to Christianity

in the process; that was always part of the programme, but it did not

interfere with business. They were not man-eating Caribs or fierce

marauding savages from neighbouring islands, but were of the mild and

peaceable race that peopled Espanola. The wheels of civilisation were

beginning to turn in the New World.

After the capture of Caonabo and the massacre of April 25th Columbus

marched through the island, receiving the surrender and submission of the

terrified natives. At the approach of his force the caciques came out

and sued for peace; and if here and there there was a momentary

resistance, a charge of cavalry soon put an end to it. One by one the

kings surrendered and laid down their arms, until all the island rulers

had capitulated with the exception of Behechio, into whose territory

Columbus did not march, and who sullenly retired to the south-western

corner of the island. The terms of peace were harsh enough, and were

suggested by the dilemma of Columbus in his frantic desire to get

together some gold at any cost. A tribute of gold-dust was laid upon

every adult native in the island. Every three months a hawk’s bell full

of gold was to be brought to the treasury at Isabella, and in the case 39

of caciques the measure was a calabash. A receipt in the form of a brass

medal was fastened to the neck of every Indian when he paid his tribute,

and those who could not show the medal with the necessary number of marks

were to be further fined and punished. In the districts where there was

no gold, 25 lbs. of cotton was accepted instead.

This levy was made in ignorance of the real conditions under which the

natives possessed themselves of the gold. What they had in many cases

represented the store of years, and in all but one or two favoured

districts it was quite impossible for them to keep up the amount of the

tribute. Yet the hawks’ bells, which once had been so eagerly coveted

and were now becoming hated symbols of oppression, had to be filled

somehow; and as the day of payment drew near the wretched natives, who

had formerly only sought for gold when a little of it was wanted for a

pretty ornament, had now to work with frantic energy in the river sands;

or in other cases, to toil through the heat of the day in the cotton

fields which they had formerly only cultivated enough to furnish their

very scant requirements of use and adornment. One or two caciques,

knowing that their people could not possibly furnish the required amount

of gold, begged that its value in grain might be accepted instead; but

that was not the kind of wealth that Columbus was seeking. It must be

gold or nothing; and rather than receive any other article from the

gold-bearing districts, he consented to take half the amount.

Thus step by step, and under the banner of the Holy Catholic religion,

did dark and cruel misery march through the groves and glades of the

island and banish for ever its ancient peace. This long-vanished race

that was native to the island of Espanola seems to have had some of the

happiest and most lovable qualities known to dwellers on this planet.

They had none of the brutalities of the African, the paralysing wisdom of

the Asian, nor the tragic potentialities of the European peoples. Their

life was from day to day, and from season to season, like the life of

flowers and birds. They lived in such order and peaceable community as

the common sense of their own simple needs suggested; they craved no

pleasures except those that came free from nature, and sought no wealth

but what the sun gave them. In their verdant island, near to the heart

and source of light, surrounded by the murmur of the sea, and so enriched

by nature that the idea, of any other kind of riches never occurred to

them, their existence went to a happy dancing measure like that of the

fauns and nymphs in whose charmed existence they believed. The sun and

moon were to them creatures of their island who had escaped from a cavern

by the shore and now wandered free in the upper air, peopling it with

happy stars; and man himself they believed to have sprung from crevices

in the rocks, like the plants that grew tall and beautiful wherever there

was a handful of soil for their roots. Poor happy children! You are all

dead a long while ago now, and have long been hushed in the great humming

sleep and silence of Time; the modern world has no time nor room for

people like you, with so much kindness and so little ambition . . . .

Yet their free pagan souls were given a chance to be penned within the

Christian fold; the priest accompanied the gunner and the bloodhound, the

missionary walked beside the slave-driver; and upon the bewildered

sun-bright surface of their minds the shadow of the cross was for a moment

thrown. Verily to them the professors of Christ brought not peace, but a

sword.

CHAPTER III

UPS AND DOWNS

While Columbus was toiling under the tropical sun to make good his

promises to the Crown, Margarite and Buil, having safely come home to

Spain from across the seas, were busy setting forth their view of the

value of his discoveries. It was a view entirely different from any that

Ferdinand and Isabella had heard before, and coming as it did from two

men of position and importance who had actually been in Espanola, and

were loyal and religious subjects of the Crown, it could not fail to

receive, if not immediate and complete credence, at any rate grave

attention. Hitherto the Sovereigns had only heard one side of the

matter; an occasional jealous voice may have been raised from the

neighbourhood of the Pinzons or some one else not entirely satisfied with

his own position in the affair; but such small cries of dissent had

naturally had little chance against the dignified eloquence of the

Admiral.

Now, however, the matter was different. People who were at least the

equals of Columbus in intelligence, and his superiors by birth and

education, had seen with their own eyes the things of which he had

spoken, and their account differed widely from his. They represented

things in Espanola as being in a very bad way indeed, which was true

enough; drew a dismal picture of an overcrowded colony ravaged with

disease and suffering from lack of provisions; and held forth at length

upon the very doubtful quality of the gold with which the New World was

supposed to abound. More than this, they brought grave charges against

Columbus himself, representing him as unfit to govern a colony, given to

favouritism, and, worst of all, guilty of having deliberately

misrepresented for his own ends the resources of the colony. This as we

know was not true. It was not for his own ends, or for any ends at all

within the comprehension of men like Margarite and Buil, that poor

Christopher had spoken so glowingly out of a heart full of faith in what

he had seen and done. Purposes, dim perhaps, but far greater and loftier

than any of which these two mean souls had understanding, animated him

alike in his discoveries and in his account of them; although that does

not alter the unpleasant fact that at the stage matters had now reached

it seemed as though there might have been serious misrepresentation.

Ferdinand and Isabella, thus confronted with a rather difficult

situation, acted with great wisdom and good sense. How much or how

little they believed we do not know, but it was obviously their duty,

having heard such an account from responsible officers, to investigate

matters for themselves without assuming either that the report was true

or untrue. They immediately had four caravels furnished with supplies,

and decided to appoint an agent to accompany the expedition, investigate

the affairs of the colony, and make a report to them. If the Admiral was

still absent when their agent reached the colony he was to be entrusted

with the distribution of the supplies which were being sent out; for

Columbus’s long absence from Espanola had given rise to some fears for

his safety.

The Sovereigns had just come to this decision (April 1495) when a letter

arrived from the Admiral himself, announcing his return to Espanola after

discovering the veritable mainland of Asia, as the notarial document

enclosed with the letter attested. Torres and James Columbus had arrived

in Spain, bearing the memorandum which some time ago we saw the Admiral

writing; and they were able to do something towards allaying the fears of

the Sovereigns as to the condition of the colony. The King and Queen,

nevertheless, wisely decided to carry out their original intention, and

in appointing an agent they very handsomely chose one of the men whom

Columbus had recommended to them in his letter--Juan Aguado. This action

shows a friendliness to Columbus and confidence in him that lead one to

suspect that the tales of Margarite and Buil had been taken with a grain

of salt.

At the same time the Sovereigns made one or two orders which could not

but be unwelcome to Columbus. A decree was issued making it lawful for

all native-born Spaniards to make voyages of discovery, and to settle in

Espanola itself if they liked. This was an infringement of the original

privileges granted to the Admiral--privileges which were really absurd,

and which can only have been granted in complete disbelief that anything

much would come of his discovery. It took Columbus two years to get this

order modified, and in the meantime a great many Spanish adventurers, our

old friends the Pinzons among them, did actually make voyages and added

to the area explored by the Spaniards in Columbus’s lifetime. Columbus

was bitterly jealous that any one should be admitted to the western

ocean, which he regarded as his special preserve, except under his

supreme authority; and he is reported to have said that once the way to

the West had been pointed out “even the very tailors turned explorers.”

There, surely, spoke the long dormant woolweaver in him.

The commission given to Aguado was very brief, and so vaguely worded

that it might mean much or little, according to the discretion of the

commissioner and the necessities of the case as viewed by him. “We send

to you Juan Aguada, our Groom of the Chambers, who will speak to you on

our part. We command you to give him faith and credit.” A letter was

also sent to Columbus in which he was instructed to reduce the number of

people dependent on the colony to five hundred instead of a thousand; and

the control of the mines was entrusted to one Pablo Belvis, who was sent

out as chief metallurgist. As for the slaves that Columbus had sent

home, Isabella forbade their sale until inquiry could be made into the

condition of their capture, and the fine moral point involved was

entrusted to the ecclesiastical authorities for examination and solution.

Poor Christopher, knowing as he did that five hundred heretics were being

burned every year by the Grand Inquisitor, had not expected this

hair-splitting over the fate of heathens who had rebelled against Spanish

authority; and it caused him some distress when he heard of it. The

theologians, however, proved equal to the occasion, and the slaves were

duly sold in Seville market.

Aguado sailed from Cadiz at the end of August 1495, and reached Espanola

in October. James Columbus (who does not as yet seem to be in very great

demand anywhere, and who doubtless conceals behind his grave visage much

honest amazement at the amount of life that he is seeing) returned with

him. Aguado, on arriving at Isabella, found that Columbus was absent

establishing forts in the interior of the island, Bartholomew being left

in charge at Isabella.

Aguado, who had apparently been found faithful in small matters, was

found wanting in his use of the authority that had been entrusted to him.

It seems to have turned his head; for instead of beginning quietly to

investigate the affairs of the colony as he had been commanded to do he

took over from Bartholomew the actual government, and interpreted his

commission as giving him the right to supersede the Admiral himself. The

unhappy colony, which had no doubt been enjoying some brief period of

peace under the wise direction of Bartholomew, was again thrown into

confusion by the doings of Aguado. He arrested this person, imprisoned

that; ordered that things should be done this way, which had formerly

been done that way; and if they had formerly been done that way, then he

ordered that they should be done this way--in short he committed every

mistake possible for a man in his situation armed with a little brief

authority. He did not hesitate to let it be known that he was there to

examine the conduct of the Admiral himself; and we may be quite sure that

every one in the colony who had a grievance or an ill tale to carry,

carried it to Aguado. His whole attitude was one of enmity and

disloyalty to the Admiral who had so handsomely recommended him to the

notice of the Sovereigns; and so undisguised was his attitude that even

the Indians began to lodge their complaints and to see a chance by which

they might escape from the intolerable burden of the gold tribute.

It was at this point that Columbus returned and found Aguado ruling in

the place of Bartholomew, who had wisely made no protest against his own

deposition, but was quietly waiting for the Admiral to return. Columbus

might surely have been forgiven if he had betrayed extreme anger and

annoyance at the doings of Aguado; and it is entirely to his credit that

he concealed such natural wrath as he may have felt, and greeted Aguado

with extreme courtesy and ceremony as a representative of the Sovereigns.

He made no protest, but decided to return himself to Spain and confront

the jealousy and ill-fame that were accumulating against him.

Just as the ships were all ready to sail, one of the hurricanes which

occur periodically in the West Indies burst upon the island, lashing the

sea into a wall of advancing foam that destroyed everything before it.

Among other things it destroyed three out of the four ships, dashing them

on the beach and reducing them to complete wreckage. The only one that

held to her anchor and, although much battered and damaged, rode out the

gale, was the Nina, that staunch little friend that had remained faithful

to the Admiral through so many dangers and trials. There was nothing for

it but to build a new ship out of the fragments of the wrecks, and to

make the journey home with two ships instead of with four.

At this moment, while he was waiting for the ship to be completed,

Columbus heard a piece of news of a kind that never failed to rouse his

interest. There was a young Spaniard named Miguel Diaz who had got into

disgrace in Isabella some time before on account of a duel, and had

wandered into the island until he had come out on the south coast at the

mouth of the river Ozama, near the site of the present town of Santo

Domingo. There he had fallen in love with a female cacique and had made

his home with her. She, knowing the Spanish taste, and anxious to please

her lover and to retain him in her territory, told him of some rich

gold-mines that there were in the neighbourhood, and suggested that he

should inform the Admiral, who would perhaps remove the settlement from

Isabella to the south coast. She provided him with guides and sent him

off to Isabella, where, hearing that his antagonist had recovered, and

that he himself was therefore in no danger of punishment, he presented

himself with his story.

Columbus immediately despatched Bartholomew with a party to examine the

mines; and sure enough they found in the river Hayna undoubted evidence

of a wealth far in excess of that contained in the Cibao gold-mines.

Moreover, they had noticed two ancient excavations about which the

natives could tell them nothing, but which made them think that the mines

had once been worked.

Columbus was never backward in fitting a story and a theory to whatever

phenomena surrounded him; and in this case he was certain that the

excavations were the work of Solomon, and that he had discovered the gold

of Ophir. “Sure enough,” thinks the Admiral, “I have hit it this time;

and the ships came eastward from the Persian Gulf round the Golden

Chersonesus, which I discovered this very last winter.” Immediately, as

his habit was, Columbus began to build castles in Spain. Here was a fine

answer to Buil and Margarite! Without waiting a week or two to get any

of the gold this extraordinary man decided to hurry off at once to Spain

with the news, not dreaming that Spain might, by this time, have had a

surfeit of news, and might be in serious need of some simple, honest

facts. But he thought his two caravels sufficiently freighted with this

new belief--the belief that he had discovered the Ophir of Solomon.

The Admiral sailed on March 10th, 1496, carrying with him in chains the

vanquished Caonabo and other natives. He touched at Marigalante and at

Guadaloupe, where his people had an engagement with the natives, taking

several prisoners, but releasing them all again with the exception of one

woman, a handsome creature who had fallen in love with Caonabo and

refused to go. But for Caonabo the joys of life and love were at an end;

his heart and spirit were broken. He was not destined to be paraded as a

captive through the streets of Spain, and it was somewhere in the deep

Atlantic that he paid the last tribute to the power that had captured and

broken him. He died on the voyage, which was longer and much more full

of hardships than usual. For some reason or other Columbus did not take

the northerly route going home, but sailed east from Gaudaloupe,

encountering the easterly trade winds, which delayed him so much that the

voyage occupied three months instead of six weeks.

Once more he exhibited his easy mastery of the art of navigation and his

extraordinary gift for estimating dead-reckoning. After having been out

of sight of land for eight weeks, and while some of the sailors thought

they might be in the Bay of Biscay, and others that they were in the

English Channel, the Admiral suddenly announced that they were close to

Cape Saint Vincent.

No land was in sight, but he ordered that sail should be shortened that

evening; and sure enough the next morning they sighted the land close by

Cape Saint Vincent. Columbus managed his landfalls with a fine dramatic

sense as though they were conjuring tricks; and indeed they must have

seemed like conjuring tricks, except that they were almost always

successful.

CHAPTER IV

IN SPAIN AGAIN

The loiterers about the harbour of Cadiz saw a curious sight on June

11th, 1496, when the two battered ships, bearing back the voyagers from

the Eldorado of the West, disembarked their passengers. There were some

220 souls on board, including thirty Indians: and instead of leaping

ashore, flushed with health, and bringing the fortunes which they had

gone out to seek, they crawled miserably from the boats or were carried

ashore, emaciated by starvation, yellow with disease, ragged and unkempt

from poverty, and with practically no possessions other than the clothes

they stood up in. Even the Admiral, now in his forty-sixth year, hardly

had the appearance that one would expect in a Viceroy of the Indies. His

white hair and beard were rough and matted, his handsome face furrowed by

care and sunken by illness and exhaustion, and instead of the glittering

armour and uniform of his office he wore the plain robe and girdle of the

Franciscan order--this last probably in consequence of some vow or other

he had made in an hour of peril on the voyage.

One lucky coincidence marked his arrival. In the harbour, preparing to

weigh anchor, was a fleet of three little caravels, commanded by Pedro

Nino, about to set out for Espanola with supplies and despatches.

Columbus hurried on board Nino’s ship, and there read the letters from

the Sovereigns which it had been designed he should receive in Espanola.

The letters are not preserved, but one can make a fair guess at their

contents. Some searching questions would certainly be asked, kind

assurances of continued confidence would doubtless be given, with many

suggestions for the betterment of affairs in the distant colony. Only

their result upon the Admiral is known to us. He sat down there and then

and wrote to Bartholomew, urging him to secure peace in the island by

every means in his power, to send home any caciques or natives who were

likely to give trouble, and most of all to push on with the building of a

settlement on the south coast where the new mines were, and to have a

cargo of gold ready to send back with the next expedition. Having

written this letter, the Admiral saw the little fleet sail away on June

17th, and himself prepared with mingled feelings to present himself

before his Sovereigns.

While he was waiting for their summons at Los Palacios, a small town near

Seville, he was the guest of the curate of that place, Andrez Bernaldez,

who had been chaplain to Christopher’s old friend DEA, the Archbishop of

Seville. This good priest evidently proved a staunch friend to Columbus

at this anxious period of his life, for the Admiral left many important

papers in his charge when he again left Spain, and no small part of the

scant contemporary information about Columbus that has come down to us is

contained in the ‘Historia de los Reyes Catolicos’, which Bernaldez wrote

after the death of Columbus.

Fickle Spain had already forgotten its first sentimental enthusiasm over

the Admiral’s discoveries, and now was only interested in their financial

results. People cannot be continually excited about a thing which they

have not seen, and there were events much nearer home that absorbed the

public interest. There was the trouble with France, the contemplated

alliance of the Crown Prince with Margaret of Austria, and of the Spanish

Princess Juana with Philip of Austria; and there were the designs of

Ferdinand upon the kingdom of Naples, which was in his eyes a much more

desirable and valuable prize than any group of unknown islands beyond the

ocean.

Columbus did his very best to work up enthusiasm again. He repeated the

performance that had been such a success after his first voyage--the kind

of circus procession in which the natives were marched in column

surrounded by specimens of the wealth of the Indies. But somehow it did

not work so well this time. Where there had formerly been acclamations

and crowds pressing forward to view the savages and their ornaments,

there were now apathy and a dearth of spectators. And although Columbus

did his very best, and was careful to exhibit every scrap of gold that he

had brought, and to hang golden collars and ornaments about the necks of

the marching Indians, his exhibition was received either in ominous

silence or, in some quarters, with something like derision. As I have

said before, there comes a time when the best-disposed debtors do not

regard themselves as being repaid by promises, and when the most

enthusiastic optimist desires to see something more than samples.

It was only old Colon going round with his show again--flamingoes,

macaws, seashells, dye-woods, gums and spices; some people laughed,

and some were angry; but all were united in thinking that the New World

was not a very profitable speculation.

Things were a little better, however, at Court. Isabella certainly

believed still in Columbus; Ferdinand, although he had never been

enthusiastic, knew the Admiral too well to make the vulgar mistake of

believing him an impostor; and both were too polite and considerate to

add to his obvious mortification and distress by any discouraging

comments. Moreover, the man himself had lost neither his belief in the

value of his discoveries nor his eloquence in talking of them; and when

he told his story to the Sovereigns they could not help being impressed,

not only with his sincerity but with his ability and single-heartedness

also. It was almost the same old story, of illimitable wealth that was

just about to be acquired, and perhaps no one but Columbus could have

made it go down once more with success; but talking about his exploits

was never any trouble to him, and his astonishing conviction, the lofty

and dignified manner in which he described both good and bad fortune, and

the impressive way in which he spoke of the wealth of the gold of Ophir

and of the far-reaching importance of his supposed discovery of the

Golden Chersonesus and the mainland of Asia, had their due effect on his

hearers.

It was always his way, plausible Christopher, to pass lightly over the

premises and to dwell with elaborate detail on the deductions. It was by

no means proved that he had discovered the mines of King Solomon; he had

never even seen the place which he identified with them; it was in fact

nothing more than an idea in his own head; but we may be sure that he

took it as an established fact that he had actually discovered the mines

of Ophir, and confined his discussion to estimates of the wealth which

they were likely to yield, and of what was to be done with the wealth

when the mere details of conveying it from the mines to the ships had

been disposed of. So also with the Golden Chersonesus. The very name

was enough to stop the mouths of doubters; and here was the man himself

who had actually been there, and here was a sworn affidavit from every

member of his crew to say that they had been there too. This kind of

logic is irresistible if you only grant the first little step; and

Columbus had the art of making it seem an act of imbecility in any of his

hearers to doubt the strength of the little link by which his great

golden chains of argument were fastened to fact and truth.

For Columbus everything depended upon his reception by the Sovereigns at

this time. Unless he could re-establish his hold upon them and move to a

still more secure position in their confidence he was a ruined man and

his career was finished; and one cannot but sympathise with him as he

sits there searching his mind for tempting and convincing arguments, and

speaking so calmly and gravely and confidently in spite of all the doubts

and flutterings in his heart. Like a tradesman setting out his wares,

he brought forth every inducement he could think of to convince the

Sovereigns that the only way to make a success of what they had already

done was to do more; that the only way to make profitable the money that

had already been spent was to spend more; that the only way to prove the

wisdom of their trust in him was to trust him more. One of his

transcendent merits in a situation of this kind was that he always had

something new and interesting to propose. He did not spread out his

hands and say, “This is what I have done: it is the best I can do; how

are you going to treat me?” He said in effect, “This is what I have

done; you will see that it will all come right in time; do not worry

about it; but meanwhile I have something else to propose which I think

your Majesties will consider a good plan.”

His new demand was for a fleet of six ships, two of which were to convey

supplies to Espanola, and the other four to be entrusted to him for the

purpose of a voyage of discovery towards the mainland to the south of

Espanola, of which he had heard consistent rumours; which was said to be

rich in gold, and (a clever touch) to which the King of Portugal was

thinking of sending a fleet, as he thought that it might lie within the

limits of his domain of heathendom. And so well did he manage, and so

deeply did he impress the Sovereigns with his assurance that this time

the thing amounted to what is vulgarly called “a dead certainty,” that

they promised him he should have his ships.

But promise and performance, as no one knew better than Columbus, are

different things; and it was a long while before he got his ships. There

was the usual scarcity of money, and the extensive military and

diplomatic operations in which the Crown was then engaged absorbed every

maravedi that Ferdinand could lay his hands on. There was an army to be

maintained under the Pyrenees to keep watch over France; fleets had to be

kept patrolling both the Mediterranean and Atlantic seaboards; and there

was a whole armada required to convey the princesses of Spain and Austria

to their respective husbands in connection with the double matrimonial

alliance arranged between the two countries. And when at last, in

October 1496, six million maravedis were provided wherewith Columbus

might equip his fleet, they were withdrawn again under very mortifying

circumstances. The appropriation had just been made when a letter

arrived from Pedro Nino, who had been to Espanola and come back again,

and now wrote from Cadiz to the Sovereigns, saying that his ships were

full of gold. He did not present himself at Court, but went to visit his

family at Huelva; but the good news of his letter was accepted as an

excuse for this oversight.

No one was better pleased than the Admiral. “What did I tell you?” he

says; “you see the mines of Hayna are paying already.” King Ferdinand,

equally pleased, and having an urgent need of money in connection with

his operations against France, took the opportunity to cancel the

appropriation of the six million maravedis, giving Columbus instead an

order for the amount to be paid out of the treasure brought home by Nino.

Alas, the mariner’s boast of gold had been a figure of speech. There was

no gold; there was only a cargo of slaves, which Nino deemed the

equivalent of gold; and when Bartholomew’s despatches came to be read he

described the affairs of Espanola as being in very much the same

condition as before. This incident produced a most unfortunate

impression. Even Columbus was obliged to keep quiet for a little while;

and it is likely that the mention of six million maravedis was not

welcomed by him for some time afterwards.

After the wedding of Prince Juan in March 1497, when Queen Isabella had

more time to give to external affairs, the promise to Columbus was again

remembered, and his position was considered in detail. An order was made

(April 23rd, 1497), restoring to the Admiral the original privileges

bestowed upon him at Santa Fe. He was offered a large tract of land in

Espanola, with the title of Duke; but much as he hankered after titular

honours, he was for once prudent enough to refuse this gift. His reason

was that it would only further damage his influence, and give apparent

justification to those enemies who said that the whole enterprise had

been undertaken merely in his own interests; and it is possible also that

his many painful associations with Espanola, and the bloodshed and

horrors that he had witnessed there, had aroused in his superstitious

mind a distaste for possessions and titles in that devastated Paradise.

Instead, he accepted a measure of relief from the obligations incurred by

his eighth share in the many unprofitable expeditions that had been sent

out during the last three years, agreeing for the next three years to

receive an eighth share of the gross income, and a tenth of the net

profits, without contributing anything to the cost. His appointment of

Bartholomew to the office of Adelantado, which had annoyed Ferdinand, was

now confirmed; the universal license which had been granted to Spanish

subjects to settle in the new lands was revoked in so far as it infringed

the Admiral’s privileges; and he was granted a force of 330 officers,

soldiers, and artificers to be at his personal disposal in the

prosecution of his next voyage.

The death of Prince Juan in October 1497 once more distracted the

attention of the Court from all but personal matters; and Columbus

employed the time of waiting in drafting a testamentary document in which

he was permitted to create an entail on his title and estates in favour

of his two sons and their heirs for ever. This did not represent his

complete or final testament, for he added codicils at various times,

the latest being executed the day before his death. The document is

worth studying; it reveals something of the laborious, painstaking mind

reaching out down the rivers and streams of the future that were to flow

from the fountain of his own greatness; it reveals also his triple

conception of the obligations of human life in this world--the

cultivation and retention of temporal dignity, the performance of pious

and charitable acts, and the recognition of duty to one’s family. It was

in this document that Columbus formulated the curious cipher which he

always now used in signing his name, and of which various readings are

given in the Appendix. He also enjoined upon his heir the duty of using

the simple title which he himself loved and used most--“The Admiral.”

After the death of Prince Juan, Queen Isabella honoured Columbus by

attaching his two sons to her own person as pages; and her friendship

must at this time have gone far to compensate him for the coolness shown

towards him by the public at large. He might talk as much as he pleased,

but he had nothing to show for all his talk except a few trinkets, a

collection of interesting but valueless botanical specimens, and a

handful of miserable slaves. Lives and fortunes had been wrecked on the

enterprise, which had so far brought nothing to Spain but the promise of

luxurious adventure that was not fulfilled and of a wealth and glory that

had not been realised. It must have been a very humiliating circumstance

to Columbus that in the preparations which he was now (February 1498)

making for the equipment of his new expedition a great difficulty was

found in procuring ships and men. Not even before the first voyage had

so much reluctance been shown to risk life and property in the

enterprise. Merchants and sailors had then been frightened of dangers

which they did not know; now, it seemed, the evils of which they did know

proved a still greater deterrent. The Admiral was at this time the guest

of his friend Bernaldez, who has told us something of his difficulties;

and the humiliating expedient of seizing ships under a royal order had

finally to be adopted. But it would never have done to impress the

colonists also; that would have been too open a confession of failure for

the proud Admiral to tolerate.

Instead he had recourse to the miserable plan of which he had made use in

Palos; the prisons were opened, and criminals under sentence invited to

come forth and enjoy the blessings of colonial life. Even then there was

not that rush from the prison doors that might have been expected, and

some desperate characters apparently preferred the mercies of a Spanish

prison to what they had heard of the joys of the Earthly Paradise. Still

a number of criminals did doubtfully crawl forth and furnish a retinue

for the great Admiral and Viceroy. Trembling, suspicious, and with more

than half a mind to go back to their bonds, some part of the human vermin

of Spain was eventually cajoled and chivied on board the ships.

The needs of the colony being urgent, and recruiting being slow, two

caravels laden with provisions were sent off in advance; but even for

this purpose there was a difficulty about money, and good Isabella

furnished the expense, at much inconvenience, from her private purse.

Columbus had to supervise everything himself; and no wonder that by the

end of May, when he was ready to sail, his patience and temper were

exhausted and his much-tried endurance broke down under the petty

gnatlike irritations of Fonseca and his myrmidons. It was on the deck of

his own ship, in the harbour of San Lucar, that he knocked down and

soundly kicked Ximeno de Breviesca, Fonseca’s accountant, whose nagging

requisitions had driven the Admiral to fury.

After all these years of gravity and restraint and endurance, this

momentary outbreak of the old Adam in our hero is like a breath of wind

through an open window.

To the portraits of Columbus hanging in the gallery of one’s imagination

this must surely be added; in which Christopher, on the deck of his ship,

with the royal standard and the Admiral’s flag flying from his masthead,

is observed to be soundly kicking a prostrate accountant. The incident

is worthy of a date, which is accordingly here given, as near as may be--

May 29, 1498.

CHAPTER V

THE THIRD VOYAGE

Columbus was at sea again; firm ground to him, although so treacherous

and unstable to most of us; and as he saw the Spanish coast sinking down

on the horizon he could shake himself free from his troubles, and feel

that once more he was in a situation of which he was master. He first

touched at Porto Santo, where, if the story of his residence there be

true, there must have been potent memories for him in the sight of the

long white beach and the plantations, with the Governor’s house beyond.

He stayed there only a few hours and then crossed over to Madeira,

anchoring in the Bay of Funchal, where he took in wood and water. As it

was really unnecessary for him to make a port so soon after leaving,

there was probably some other reason for his visit to these islands;

perhaps a family reason; perhaps nothing more historically important than

the desire to look once more on scenes of bygone happiness, for even on

the page of history every event is not necessarily big with significance.

From Madeira he took a southerly course to the Canary Islands, and on

June 16th anchored at Gomera, where he found a French warship with two

Spanish prizes, all of which put to sea as the Admiral’s fleet

approached. On June 21st, when he sailed from Gomera, he divided his

fleet of six vessels into two squadrons. Three ships were despatched

direct to Espanola, for the supplies which they carried were urgently

needed there. These three ships were commanded by trustworthy men: Pedro

de Arana, a brother of Beatriz, Alonso Sanchez de Carvajal, and Juan

Antonio Colombo--this last no other than a cousin of Christopher’s from

Genoa. The sons of Domenico’s provident younger brother had not

prospered, while the sons of improvident Domenico were now all in high

places; and these three poor cousins, hearing of Christopher’s greatness,

and deciding that use should be made of him, scraped together enough

money to send one of their number to Spain. The Admiral always had a

sound family feeling, and finding that cousin Antonio had sea experience

and knew how to handle a ship he gave him command of one of the caravels

on this voyage--a command of which he proved capable and worthy. From

these three captains, after giving them full sailing directions for

reaching Espanola, Columbus parted company off the island of Ferro. He

himself stood on a southerly course towards the Cape Verde Islands.

His plan on this voyage was to find the mainland to the southward, of

which he had heard rumours in Espanola. Before leaving Spain he had

received a letter from an eminent lapidary named Ferrer who had travelled

much in the east, and who assured him that if he sought gold and precious

stones he must go to hot lands, and that the hotter the lands were, and

the blacker the inhabitants, the more likely he was to find riches there.

This was just the kind of theory to suit Columbus, and as he sailed

towards the Cape Verde Islands he was already in imagination gathering

gold and pearls on the shores of the equatorial continent.

He stayed for about a week at the Cape Verde Islands, getting in

provisions and cattle, and curiously observing the life of the Portuguese

lepers who came in numbers to the island of Buenavista to be cured there

by eating the flesh and bathing in the blood of turtles. It was not an

inspiriting week which he spent in that dreary place and enervating

climate, with nothing to see but the goats feeding among the scrub, the

turtles crawling about the sand, and the lepers following the turtles.

It began to tell on the health of the crew, so he weighed anchor on July

5th and stood on a southwesterly course.

This third voyage, which was destined to be the most important of all,

and the material for which had cost him so much time and labour, was

undertaken in a very solemn and determined spirit. His health, which he

had hoped to recover in Spain, had been if anything damaged by his

worryings with officialdom there; and although he was only forty-seven

years of age he was in some respects already an old man. He had entered,

although happily he did not know it, on the last decade of his life; and

was already beginning to suffer from the two diseases, gout and

ophthalmia, which were soon to undermine his strength and endurance.

Religion of a mystical fifteenth-century sort was deepening in him;

he had undertaken this voyage in the name of the Holy Trinity; and to

that theological entity he had resolved to dedicate the first new land

that he should sight.

For ten days light baffling winds impeded his progress; but at the end of

that time the winds fell away altogether, and the voyagers found

themselves in that flat equatorial calm known to mariners as the

Doldrums. The vertical rays of the sun shone blisteringly down upon

them, making the seams of the ships gape and causing the unhappy crews

mental as well as bodily distress, for they began to fear that they had

reached that zone of fire which had always been said to exist in the

southern ocean.

Day after day the three ships lay motionless on the glassy water, with

wood-work so hot as to burn the hands that touched it, with the meat

putrefying in the casks below, and the water running from the loosened

casks, and no one with courage and endurance enough to venture into the

stifling hold even to save the provisions. And through all this the

Admiral, racked with gout, had to keep a cheerful face and assure his

prostrate crew that they would soon be out of it.