Conspiracy against Columbus at Jamaica—He Returns to Spain and Vainly
Seeks Reinstatement—He Dies at Valladolid in 1506
Day after day the companions of Columbus watched the region whence
Fiesko was to come with the news that Mendez had made a landing at
Hispaniola, but they watched in vain. Fiesko did not appear. Thereupon
they became desperate. They were sure both the adventurers had been lost
and all hope of release from the island vanished. The air was filled
with their complaints and these complaints at last changed to open
revolt. They shrieked, cursed, and threatened the life of Columbus, and
the dark hour seemed to have come when the great leader, who had
overcome so many dangers, should fall a victim to their blind rage.
Columbus was confined to his bed with a painful ailment, a large part of
his crew were in a similar plight. Those who were on their feet had
submitted themselves to the leadership of two brothers, named Porras.
The oldest of these, an unfeeling wretch, approached the Admiral’s bed
and savagely demanded to know why he did not go back to Spain. Columbus
replied with his customary composure that he had no way of returning,
much as he wished to do so; if any one of his men could show him the way
to do it, he would gladly go. Gracious as his answer was, it made not
the slightest impression upon the shameless Porras. He replied even more
ferociously that it was no time for pretences. For his part he was going
to sail. Thereupon he shouted to the assembled crowd: “Those who wish to
follow me, step forward.” His words were the sign for a universal
uprising on the vessel. Most of them at once declared that they were
ready to follow him. The Admiral, suffering as he was with the torments
of gout, sprang from his bed to calm the disturbance, but his attendants
who were justly afraid he would be murdered, restrained him. The
mutineers gave way and retired when his brother, Bartolomeo, rushed into
their midst, pike in hand, to punish them for their treachery. The
leaders of the revolt in the meantime seized ten small craft which the
Admiral had secured from the natives and sprang into them. This caused
the others who had taken no part in the uprising to waver in their
loyalty and most of them got into the boats and asked to be taken with
them. It was with the deepest concern that Columbus, his brother,
Bartolomeo, and his son Ferdinand watched this distressing spectacle.
The poor bedridden invalid saw himself deserted by almost all his crew.
The few faithful attendants gathered around his bed and engaged in
excited discussion, while he thanked them for their proof of loyalty and
encouraged them to remain steadfast in their duties and to look for a
speedy termination of their present wretched condition, assuring them
that in the future their honesty and loyalty would be rewarded.
The unfeeling mutineers in the meantime rowed with exultant shouts to
the eastern point of the island, thence passing over to Hispaniola. When
they went ashore they plundered and outraged the natives and shamelessly
advised them to hold the Admiral responsible, as he was the sole cause
of their trouble. If they could get no indemnity from him, they had
their permission to kill him. It was his intention to make them all
suffer and if they were smart they would get ahead of him. This greatly
embittered the Indians against their treacherous leaders. Next they
forced a large number of Indians, whom they had made prisoners, to go on
board and do the rowing.
They had hardly gone four miles after this when a furious wind arose and
made the sea so rough that their small craft began to fill with water.
In order to lighten them, the wretches determined to murder the Indians
and throw them overboard. Some of them had already been killed when the
others, growing desperate, flung themselves into the water and imploring
mercy swam along near the canoes. But with unheard-of cruelty, whenever
they became exhausted and to rest themselves would cling for a little
while to the canoes, these European monsters would push them off and
inhumanly leave them to die. No less than eighteen were thus sacrificed,
and the same dreadful fate would have overtaken all of them had not the
Spaniards doubted the possibility of reaching Jamaica without the help
of the few remaining.
Columbus in the meantime bore his great trouble with his customary
resolution and, sick as he was, looked after the other invalids with the
tenderness of a father. Heaven blessed his generous solicitude and
sympathy and in a short time the old man had the pleasure of seeing all
of them restored to health. But now he had to contend with a new danger.
The Indians, who had supplied him with provisions up to that time, began
to fear that these voracious Europeans would stay there forever and
consume everything they could produce. This fear and the outrages from
which they had suffered at the hands of the mutineers prejudiced them
against the whites, and the result was they stopped bringing supplies to
the vessels. Columbus, however, found a way of surmounting this
difficulty, for which he was indebted to his knowledge of astronomy. He
foresaw that an eclipse of the moon was at hand and he made use of this
knowledge to arouse anew the respect and hospitality of the natives.
With the help of one of the natives of Hispaniola he summoned the
headmen by the announcement that he had something of great importance to
communicate to them. When they appeared, he told them through an Indian
interpreter that he and his companions were people who knew the God that
made the heavens and the earth. This God, who protected the good and
punished the bad, would also punish them if they refused any longer to
supply food. As a sign of the punishment hanging over them, the moon the
next night would wear a red and wrathful face, showing them what trouble
they would bring upon themselves if they longer refused to be hospitable
to their guests. At first they laughed at the prophecy, but when the
moon began to grow dark and the darkness increased, there was universal
consternation among them. With shrieks and howls they implored the
Admiral to pray to his God that He would not punish them, sacredly
promising to supply him with everything necessary to life. Columbus
agreed to do as they wished and shut himself up in his cabin for the
moment, knowing that the darkness would soon disappear. Then he
reappeared and adjured the natives not to be troubled. God, he said, saw
with great pleasure that their sentiments had changed. He therefore
would not punish them and, as a sign of His graciousness, the moon would
lose its angry appearance and soon shine upon them with its friendly
beams. When this prophecy had been fulfilled they praised the Christian
God in their joyous surprise and generously provided the wonderful man,
who had foretold all this, with everything he needed.
Eight long dreary months had passed since Mendez and Fiesko had left for
Hispaniola and nothing had been heard of them. There was not the least
doubt they had perished and the companions of Columbus gave up all hope
of the expected assistance. In despair they contemplated deserting their
leader and joining the mutineers who were roaming about the island and
living upon their plunder. Just as they were about carrying out their
purpose, to their great surprise a European vessel was seen lying at
anchor not far from shore. It did not remain there long before its
captain came to the Admiral in a boat and gave him a letter from the
governor, together with a cask of wine and two sides of bacon. Hardly
had he done this when he sprang back into his boat, rowed to his vessel,
and sailed away. The letter which he brought contained nothing more than
some empty words.
Ovando, the governor of Hispaniola, was anxious that Columbus should
miserably perish, for he feared that the discoverer, if he returned to
Spain, might establish his rights and cause him to lose his position. He
wished to know, therefore, just how great the necessities of this man
were, whom he desired out of his way, and whether he could accomplish
his infamous purpose if he delayed sending a vessel to him for a long
time. This was the malicious reason, as some of the historians maintain,
for sending his representative with orders to observe the condition of
Columbus’ affairs and then sail away again. Others give a more
inoffensive reason. Ovando, they say, feared that Columbus was using the
stranding of his vessels as a pretext for coming to Hispaniola with a
good grace and then securing the sovereignty by force. It was on this
account that he had sent a spy to ascertain whether the affairs of the
Admiral were such as had been described. Columbus informed his men that
the vessel had sailed away because it was too small to take them and
their belongings, that Mendez and Fiesko had fortunately arrived at
Hispaniola and had orders to buy a larger vessel upon his account, which
would soon come to their relief. In reality he had received no news of
the fate of either of them.
Notwithstanding the fact that the brave Fiesko had been prostrated with
a fever contracted on the rocky island, true to his promise, he was
anxious to return to the Admiral and bring him news of the fortunate
outcome of their voyage. But not one of his companions could be induced
to make that perilous voyage again. Neither promises nor threats were of
any avail and he found himself forced to go to San Domingo against his
will. There he and Mendez repeatedly implored the governor to let them
buy a vessel for the relief of their leader, but the governor managed in
various ways to protract the business so that he might carry out his own
designs. Meanwhile Columbus had made many fruitless attempts to bring
the rebels back to their allegiance. They not only persisted in their
disloyalty but they demanded that the Admiral should give them half of
all the clothing and other articles on the stranded vessels. If he
refused to do this they threatened to take them by force. When the
refusal was actually made they prepared to execute their threat.
As Columbus was still sick he sent his brother Bartolomeo with an armed
force to meet them. He had orders to use his good offices and not to
begin hostilities until all other means were exhausted. Bartolomeo
carried out the order, but when he approached in a friendly way and
invited them to make peace they took it as a confession of weakness and
the battle began. Six of them had planned to attack Bartolomeo and not
to give up until they saw him fall. But Bartolomeo met them fearlessly
and, as he was faithfully supported by his little following, he charged
upon the rebels with such resistless force that in a short time he won a
complete victory. Several were put to the sword, others were taken
prisoners, and the rest escaped by flight. Among the prisoners who were
taken back to the vessels in chains was Porras, the leader of the
rebels, whom Bartolomeo had caught and disarmed with his own hands. He
himself received a wound in the hand. Shortly after this the fugitives
sent to the Admiral messages imploring his mercy, and the magnanimous
man, who was always more inclined to forgiveness than revenge, at once
granted their prayer. At last order was restored. Every one returned to
duty, every one was forgiven, and only the audacious leader of the
mutiny remained in chains as a fitting punishment.
Mendez and Fiesko meanwhile had unceasingly striven to induce the
governor of Hispaniola to allow them the privilege of buying a vessel
with which to fetch away Columbus and his people from Jamaica. He
hesitated long before granting this reasonable request but, at last,
fearing they might apply to the Spanish Court if he persisted in leaving
the Admiral helpless, he consented. Thus was Columbus relieved and at a
time when everything looked hopeless. After spending a whole year in the
struggle with poverty and calamity, the vessel arrived. All embarked
joyfully June 28, 1504, and sailed to San Domingo which they reached
August 13. The governor, concealing his real sentiments under the cloak
of pretension and flattery, ordered Columbus to be received with all
honor. At the same time, however, when this coward, because of his
fears, was pretending to honor Columbus, he was secretly venting his
spite against him in various malicious ways. He particularly arranged
that the leader of the mutineers, who was to be taken to Spain in
chains, should bring a suit for his immediate release, and at the same
time threatened to bring proceedings against those who remained faithful
to Columbus. The Admiral, who had borne many an injury at the hands of
this unscrupulous man with patience, felt strong enough to endure this
last outrage also. But he made all possible haste to leave a country
whose discovery had been his misfortune, and as soon as a second vessel
had been fitted out he sailed for Spain, September 12, 1504. The same
adverse fate which had followed him so persistently on his previous
voyage overtook him on this last one. A furious storm was so disastrous
to one of his vessels that he had to send it back to Hispaniola. The
other was so badly damaged that it was doubtful whether it could
accomplish the journey. Besides other mishaps it lost its fore and
mainmasts. Columbus nevertheless kept on his course undauntedly. With
his half-wrecked vessel he traversed seven hundred miles of the ocean
and finally reached, though with extreme difficulty, the harbor of St.
Lucas, in Andalusia, early in November in the year 1504. He had spent
only a few days in Spain, recovering from the fatigue of his journey,
when the news of a mournful event reached him. His patroness and only
protector, Isabella, died November 26, 1504. He had looked to her as his
last and only reliance in obtaining his rights. Now she was gone! What
could he expect from the prejudiced King, who had always shown himself
inimical to him?
Nevertheless, as soon as his health was in some measure restored, he
hastened to the Court to make a report of all that had occurred. But he
was coolly received. His just complaints of the many injuries he had
suffered from his enemies were not listened to, and his reasonable
request that his rights should be restored to him was evaded by shallow
pretexts. Thus was this great and well-deserving man condemned to devote
the evening of his life to the business of vainly trying to obtain
justice from an unjust judge and mercy from a merciless King. Heaven at
last put an end to his long and bitter suffering. Exhausted by the
trials and hardships he had undergone, he died at Valladolid on
Ascension Day, May 20, 1506, his last words being, “Into Thy hands, O
Lord, I commit my spirit.” His death was worthy of his life. He died
with a peaceful spirit and with that trust in God which had
characterized him during his whole life, even when it was darkest. His
joyful soul hastened to that judgment-seat before which even Kings must
appear. His earthly remains were at first deposited in the monastery of
St. Francis in Valladolid and six years later were taken to the
Carthusian monastery at Seville, where King Ferdinand erected a costly
memorial to the discoverer. From this place the body was removed in 1536
to the island of San Domingo, the scene of his principal discoveries,
and upon the cession of that island to the French it was taken to Cuba
where the ashes rest in the cathedral of its capital. Near the high
altar of this splendid structure his bust stands in a niche, and close
by it is a silver urn which contains all that is left of the renowned
explorer.
In person Columbus was tall and shapely. His appearance was
distinguished. He had a long face, aquiline nose, soft blue eyes, and a
very fair complexion. In his youth his hair was auburn but, owing to his
many hardships and severe labors, it grew white early, for his life was
a continual alternation from fortune to misfortune, from calumny to
laudation, from the highest expressions of honor to the lowest
degradations. Few and fleeting were his hours of pleasure, for hardly a
day passed that he was not called upon to contend with physical pain or
troublesome mishaps or aggravating injuries. Otherwise he was strong in
his bodily constitution and was very powerful and agile. He had a
pleasing and attractive manner and was friendly and modest with every
one. He was courteous to strangers, affable to his attendants, merry
with his good friends and, what was especially characteristic of him, in
almost every situation of life he conducted himself in a manner that
commanded admiration. He lived moderately, dressed modestly, and
whenever in his various expeditions he was overtaken by adverse
circumstances, he allowed himself no comforts which were not shared by
his companions. In his youth he devoted himself industriously to the
sciences, in which he excelled the average scholars of his time. But
what is most worthy of commendation was the quiet, sincere piety which
he manifested upon every occasion. He was inclined to anger, but he so
far overcame this passion with the principles of his religion that he
could display an admirable gentleness and patience when exposed to the
coarse assaults of his unworthy adversaries.
Such was the man who was so grossly mistaken and misjudged by his
contemporaries but whose name is immortal and must ever arouse love and
admiration in the hearts of all who prize the nobility of virtue and
human greatness.