CHAPTER II.

ATTEMPTS TO SECURE ASSISTANCE.

An enterprise so vast and hazardous as that proposed by Columbus was

not likely to receive adequate assistance from any private benefactor.

Though the Portuguese had long been considered daring navigators, no

one of them had yet undertaken an expedition in any way comparable in

point of novelty and boldness with that now proposed. The explorers

of Prince Henry had skirted along the coasts of Africa, following out

lines of discovery that had already been somewhat plainly marked out.

But what Columbus now proposed was the bolder course of cutting loose

from old traditions and methods, and sailing directly west into an

unknown space. Capital was even more conservative and timid in the

fifteenth century than it is at the present time; and therefore great

expeditions were much more dependent upon governmental assistance. It

was not singular, therefore, that Columbus found himself obliged to

seek for governmental support and protection.

But in this, as in so many other details in the life of Columbus, it is

impossible at the present time to be confident that we have ascertained

the exact truth. Many of the early accounts are conflicting; and not a

few of the prevailing impressions are founded on evidence that will not

bear the test of critical examination. For example, nearly all of the

historians assert that Columbus made application for assistance to the

governments of Genoa and Venice.

The only authority for belief that the Admiral applied to Genoa is a

statement of Ramusio, who affirms that he received his information from

Peter Martyr. In the course of the narrative he says that when the

application was rejected, Columbus, at the age of forty, determined to

go to Portugal. Unfortunately, to our acceptance of this circumstantial

statement there are several very serious obstacles. In the first place,

no authority for such an assertion can be found in all the writings

of Peter Martyr. Again, the archives of Genoa have been thoroughly

explored in vain for any evidence of such an application. But most

important of all, the assertion, if true, would prove that Columbus was

born as early as 1430. We should also be obliged to infer that two of

his children by the same mother differed in age by at least thirty-six

years. The impression that Columbus made application for assistance to

Genoa may therefore safely be dismissed as apocryphal.

The evidence in regard to an application to Venice, though less

positive in its nature, is also inconclusive. The Venetian historian

Carlo Antonio Marin, whose history of Venetian commerce was not

published till the year 1800, was the first to give currency to the

story. His authority is this. He says that Francesco Pesaro said to

him some ten or twelve years before,--that is, about 1780,--that in

making some researches in the archives of the Council of Ten, he had

seen and read a letter of Columbus making application to the Venetian

Government for assistance. But although diligent search has since been

made at two different times throughout the archives for the years

between 1470 and 1492, no trace of such a letter has ever been found.

It is possible that this important document may have been destroyed

when, just before the preliminaries of Leoben, in May, 1797, a mob

invaded the hall of the Council of Ten and dispersed such of the papers

as could be found. But until some further evidence comes to light, it

must be considered doubtful whether application to Venice was ever made.

In regard to applications to Portugal, England, and France, the

evidence is less incomplete, though here, too, we meet with not a few

conflicting statements.

In one of his letters to the Spanish sovereigns Columbus says: “For

twenty-seven years I had been trying to get recognition, but at the

end of that period all my projects were turned to ridicule.... But

notwithstanding this fact,” he continues, “I pressed on with zeal, and

responded to France, Portugal, and England that I reserved for the

king and queen those countries and those domains.” Elsewhere he says:

“In order to serve your Highnesses, I listened to neither England

nor Portugal nor France, whose princes wrote me letters which your

Highnesses can see in the hands of Dr. Villalono.”

There is another bit of evidence on this subject that is not less

interesting. On the 19th of March, 1493, Duke of Medina Celi wrote to

Cardinal de Mendoza asking that he might be permitted to send vessels

every year to trade in America, and urging as a reason for this special

favor the fact that he had prevented Columbus from going to the service

of France and had held him to the service of Spain, at a time when he

had opportunities for going elsewhere.

But as if to prevent us from being too confident that we have arrived

at the exact truth, Columbus in another of his letters gives us a

statement which, if it stood alone, would seem to prove that John II.

not only made no offer, but stubbornly refused all assistance. He

says: “The king of Portugal refused with blindness to second me in my

projects of maritime discovery, for God closed his eyes, ears, and all

his senses, so that in fourteen years I was not able to make him listen

to what I advanced.”

From this it would seem to be certain that the offer of Portugal

alluded to in the letter above quoted was not made earlier than 1487,

fully two years after Columbus had arrived in Spain.

That Columbus’s application was made as early as 1474, the Toscanelli

correspondence is sufficient proof. But the moment was not auspicious.

John II., who was then reigning, appears to have had no aversion to

giving aid to such an enterprise; but he was involved in expensive

wars, and any additional drafts upon the treasury would have met with

exceptional difficulty.

But there was another reason that ought not to be overlooked. The

recent maritime history of Portugal had given the Government a very

natural feeling of self-reliance. The extraordinary efforts and

successes of Prince Henry had borne fruit. Portugal had not only

raised up a large number of skilful explorers, but had attracted to

Lisbon all the great navigators of the time. Diego Cam and Behaim

had gone beyond the Congo. Affonso de Aviero had visited the kingdom

of Benin, and Pedro de Covilham had advanced to Calicut by way of

the Red Sea. Affonso de Pavia had reached Abyssinia, and Bartholomew

Diaz was at the point of doubling the Cape of Good Hope. Thus a vast

number of expeditions had been sent out, not only to the coasts of

Africa, but also to the open sea. In 1513 De Mafra testified that

the king of Portugal had sent out two exploring expeditions that had

returned without results. In view of all these facts the refusal of the

Portuguese monarch might easily be explained on the ground of anterior

engagements to his own subjects.

But notwithstanding the assurances of Columbus himself, it is certain

that there was no absolute refusal. On the contrary, there is positive

proof that the king took the matter into most careful consideration.

He not only listened with attention to the scheme, but, if we may

believe the testimony of Fernando, gave a qualified promise of support.

Columbus accepted an invitation of the monarch to unfold his hypothesis

in reference to the extent of Asia, the splendors of the region

described by Marco Polo, the shortness of the distance across the

Atlantic, and the entire practicability of reaching the East Indies by

a directly westward course.

Of this interview we have two accounts, one written by the

Admiral’s son Fernando, and the other by De Barros, the Portuguese

historiographer. According to Fernando, his father supported the

prosecution of the plan by such excellent reasons that the king did

not hesitate to give his consent. But when Columbus, being a man of

lofty and noble ideals, demanded honorable titles and rewards, the

king found the matter quite beyond the means then at his disposal. De

Barros, on the other hand, assures us that the seeming acquiescence of

the king was simply his manner of answering what he regarded as the

unreasonable importunities of Columbus. He considered the navigator

as a vainglorious man, fond of displaying his abilities and given to

fantastic notions, such as those respecting the island of Cipango.

According to this same authority, it was but another way of getting rid

of Columbus that the king referred the whole subject to a committee of

the Council for Geographical Affairs.

It is said that councils of war never fight, and that advisory boards

regard the promoters of new schemes as their natural enemies. The

committee to whom the king referred the proposal of Columbus was made

up of two Jewish physicians and a bishop. Although the physicians,

Roderigo and Joseph, were reputed as the most able cosmographers of

the realm, they had not much hesitation in deciding that the project

was extravagant and visionary. With this judgment the ecclesiastical

member of the council seems to have agreed.

The king, however, as if unwilling to lose any valuable opportunity,

does not appear to have been satisfied with this answer. As the story

goes, he convoked his royal council, and asked their advice whether to

adopt this new route, or to pursue that which had already been opened.

Von Concelos, the historian of King John II., has given a graphic

account of the discussion held before this council. The Bishop of

Ceuta, the same important dignitary that had been a member of the

committee of three, opposed this scheme in a cool and deliberate

speech. The opposite side was presented by Dom Pedro de Meneses with so

much eloquence and power that the impression he made quite surpassed

that of the colder reasonings of the bishop. What followed was

apparently prompted by a consciousness that the advocates of the scheme

were likely to be successful. The bishop now proposed a very unworthy

scheme. He asked that Columbus might be kept in suspense while a vessel

should be secretly despatched by the king to discover whether there was

any foundation for his theory. The king appears not to have been above

the adoption of so base a proposition. Columbus was required to furnish

for the consideration of the council a plan of his proposed voyage,

together with the charts and maps with which he intended to guide his

course. A small vessel was despatched, ostensibly to the Cape de Verde

islands, but with private instructions to proceed on the route pointed

out by Columbus. The officer had no heart in the enterprise, and it was

a complete failure. Sailing westward for several days, they encountered

storms, and the sailors, losing their courage, returned to ridicule the

project as impossible.

When these facts came to be known, they produced a very natural

impression on the mind of Columbus. Disgusted with the treatment he had

received from the Portuguese, he quitted Lisbon for Spain at a date

which cannot be determined with precision, but probably in the latter

part of the year 1484 or in the early part of 1485. His departure

had to be secret, lest he should be detained either by the king or

his creditors. Color is given to the supposition that he was under

grave charges of some kind by the fact that King John, when, some

years later, inviting him to return to Portugal, deemed it necessary

to insure him “against arrest on account of any process, civil or

criminal, that might be pending against him.”

Now, in considering all these accounts, it is not difficult to imagine

that in his efforts to promote his great schemes, Columbus had been

kept in poverty. But the reasons for his leaving in secret, and even

his movements on leaving Portugal, are involved in uncertainty.

It has also very often been held by modern historians that Columbus,

immediately after entering Spain, found his way to the monastery of

La Rabida, near Palos. The authority for this belief, moreover, is

nothing less than a circumstantial account given by Fernando. But the

assertion has been proved to be incorrect. In the trial of 1513, in

which Diego Columbus attempted to establish certain claims against the

Government, two witnesses gave sworn testimony in regard to the meeting

at La Rabida. This testimony is still to be seen in the records of

the trial; and the details of the evidence make it almost absolutely

certain that the visit of Columbus to that famous monastery was not

when he first entered Spain in 1484 or 1485, but as late as September

or October of 1491.

Of another interesting effort, however, we have more positive

information. It was probably before leaving Portugal that he despatched

his brother Bartholomew to make application to the king of England.

But whatever the date of the application, it was not successful.

Whether the presentation of the case was made orally or in writing can

perhaps never be determined. It is known that he was in England for a

considerable period; but no trace of the application itself has ever

been found in the English authorities of the time. After remaining

in England probably until 1488, Bartholomew went to France, where he

remained until 1494. Though it seems probable that he received some

encouragement at the French court, even the probability rests upon no

documentary evidence except the assertion of Columbus, already quoted.

That hopes were held out, may perhaps be inferred from the fact that

when, almost at the last moment, Columbus turned his back upon the

Spanish court, he decided to go to France.

As to the course pursued by Columbus after he reached Spain, there

is also some uncertainty. This is owing to the impossibility of

reconciling some of the statements of Fernando with many of the other

statements found in the contemporaneous records. If the narrative of

the son in regard to the course of the father is followed, the student

will find himself in a labyrinth of difficulties. Fernando would have

us believe that immediately after entering Spain his father went to the

court of Medina Celi, and a little later had his famous experience at

the monastery of La Rabida. But it is impossible to reconcile such a

statement with the subsequent current of events. We know, as we shall

presently see, that Columbus was two years in the house of the Duke

of Medina Celi, and that at the end of that period he took a letter

of introduction and commendation to Cardinal Mendoza at the court of

Ferdinand and Isabella. We know also that the visit to La Rabida was

the cause of a letter being written which induced Columbus to take

that journey to the court, which resulted in the ultimate adoption

of his cause. The letter of Medina, moreover, assured the monarch

that Columbus was on the point of taking his enterprise to the court

of France. This assertion appears to be altogether incompatible with

the supposition that the abode of Columbus with Medina Celi was in

the early part of his residence in Spain. Not to present a tedious

array of irreconcilable details, it is perhaps enough to say that

if the statement of Fernando is once rejected, the way is, for the

most part, easy and clear. If we once adopt the supposition that the

abode with Medina Celi began in 1489, and that the visit to La Rabida

was in September or October of 1491, we shall rest on the authority

of Las Casas, and shall find that the difficulties in the way of

accounting for the movements of Columbus are chiefly removed. Against

this supposition, moreover, there is no evidence except the statement

of Fernando, published not less than eighty years after the events it

purports to describe.

With this explanation let us endeavour to point out the course of

Columbus in the light of the original evidence.

Before we can understand the course that was taken, we must glance at

the general condition of Spain.

The modern Inquisition was established in Castile by royal decree in

September of 1480. It proceeded with so much energy that in the course

of the following year, it is estimated that no less than two thousand

persons were burned at the stake. The queen appears to have had some

scruples in regard to this wholesale slaughter; but these were allayed

by Pope Sixtus the Fourth, who encouraged her by an audacious reference

to the example of Christ, who, he said, established his kingdom by the

destruction of idolatry. This teaching was effective. In the autumn

of 1483 the terrible Torquemada was appointed Inquisitor-General, and

clothed with full powers to reorganize the Holy Office and exterminate

heresy. From that time until the end of this inquisitor’s term of

office, according to the estimation of Llorente, the annual number

of persons condemned to torture was more than six thousand, and in

the course of the whole period more than ten thousand were burned

alive. The success of the Inquisition in Castile was so satisfactory

that Ferdinand resolved to introduce it into Aragon. Notwithstanding

a remonstrance of the Cortes, the _auto-da-fé_, with all its horrors,

was set up at Saragossa in the month of May, 1485. The Aragonese,

despairing of any other way of protecting themselves, resolved upon an

appalling act of violence. Arbues, the most odious of the inquisitors,

was attacked by a band of conspirators and assassinated on his knees

before the great altar of the cathedral, in a manner that reminds us

of the death of Thomas à Becket at Canterbury. The whole kingdom was

consequently thrown into turmoil.

But there were other causes of anxiety. This very year the prevalence

of the plague added to the general solicitude. In some of the southern

districts of the kingdom the ravages of the pestilence showed not

only the appalling condition of the people, but also the necessity of

governmental assistance. In several of the cities as many as eight or

ten thousand of the inhabitants were swept away. In Seville alone the

number that perished this very year was no less than fifteen thousand.

Just at this juncture, moreover, the coin of the realm was adulterated,

and a fatal shock was given to commercial credit. The people very

generally refused to receive the debased money in payment of debts.

Prices of ordinary articles rose to such a height as to be above

the reach of the poorer classes of the community. Great destitution

prevailed, and the resources of the Government were put to the severest

strain. Even if there had been no other tax upon the treasures of

the king and queen, the time would not have been propitious for an

application like that of Columbus.

But there was another and a still more important reason. For more

than three years the terrible war against the Moors had been taxing

the resources of the united armies of Ferdinand and Isabella. When

the Genoese navigator entered Spain, the court was making active

preparations for a vigorous continuation of that titanic struggle. The

rival kings of Granada had formed a coalition that now called for the

most prompt and vigorous action. The headquarters of the king and queen

were established at Cordova, where the active operations in the field

could be most easily and successfully directed; and all the resources

of Castile and Aragon were called into requisition to meet these

emergencies in the famous contest of the Cross against the Crescent.

No one can fairly judge either of the generosity or of the justice

of the monarchs in dealing with Columbus, without taking into

consideration all these prior obligations. At the very moment when this

enterprising navigator applied for assistance, there must have arisen

to the minds of Ferdinand and Isabella a vivid consciousness of the

ominous ferment caused by the work of the Inquisition; of the suffering

occasioned by the plague; of the starvation that everywhere appealed

for help in consequence of the debasement of the currency and the rise

in prices; and, finally, of the all-absorbing necessity of bringing

every resource of the country to bear upon the ending of this terrible

war against Granada. Nor can it be forgotten that the war was still

to make its demands upon the country for six years. In view of all

the facts, it is difficult to imagine a concurrence of circumstances

more unfavorable to the application. The monarchs could not have been

justly blamed if they had summarily declared that a granting of the

application was impossible. And yet, that they were unwilling to reject

the application outright, the course of events abundantly shows.

Columbus, in a letter dated the 14th of January, 1493, says that seven

years the twentieth of that month had rolled away since he entered the

service of the Spanish monarchs. This exact statement, corroborated

in substance as it is by others, would seem to fix the date of his

entering the Spanish service as the 20th of January, 1486. What the

nature of this service was, cannot now be determined. Nor do we know

whether from this time he received pecuniary support. The first record

of such assistance, indeed the first authentic documentary evidence

of his being in Spain, occurs in an entry in the books of the royal

treasurer for the 5th of May, 1487. Under this date is found the

following entry: “To-day paid three thousand maravedis [about twenty

dollars] to Christopher Columbus, stranger, who is here employed in

certain things for their Highnesses, under the direction of Alphonso

de Quintanilla, by order of the bishop.” In one of his letters to

Ferdinand, Columbus says: “As soon as your Highness had knowledge of

my desire [to visit the Indies], you protected me and honored me with

favors.”

While there is nothing in these assertions to indicate the exact date

when Columbus began to receive pecuniary assistance, we are justified

in the inference that it was in January of 1486.

There is no evidence, however, that Columbus presented himself at the

Spanish capital before the following spring. Surely the times must have

seemed to him inauspicious. The monarchs had established themselves at

Cordova as the most convenient place for the headquarters of the army.

Early in the year, the king marched off to lay siege to the Moorish

city of Illora, while Isabella remained at Cordova to forward the

necessary troops and supplies. A little later we find both monarchs,

in person, carrying on the siege of Moclin. Scarcely had they returned

to Cordova, however, when they were obliged to set out for Galicia to

suppress the rebellion of the Count of Lemos.

During this summer of military turmoil, Columbus remained at Cordova

vainly waiting for an opportunity to present his cause. Fortunately

he was not without some encouragement; for he had gained the favor of

Alonzo de Quintanilla, whose guest he became, and through whom he made

the acquaintance of Geraldini, the preceptor of the younger children of

Ferdinand and Isabella.

When the monarchs repaired to the northern town of Salamanca for the

winter, Columbus also went thither with his friends Quintanilla and

Geraldini. Here it was that the cause of the explorer first had a

formal hearing.

At this audience it is not probable that Queen Isabella was present;

at least, the only part of the discussion taken by the monarchs seems

to have been that of the king. It is said that Columbus unfolded his

scheme with entire self-possession. He appears to have been neither

dazzled nor daunted; for in a letter to the sovereign, in 1501, he

declares that on this occasion “he felt himself kindled as with a fire

from on high, and considered himself as an agent chosen by Heaven to

accomplish a grand design.”

But so important a matter as that now urged upon the sovereigns was not

to be entered upon lightly or in haste. However willing the king may

have been to be the promoter of discoveries far more important than

those which had shed glory upon Portugal, he was too cool and shrewd

a man to decide a matter hastily which involved so many scientific

principles. Of the details of what followed we have no authentic

account. After more than a hundred years had passed away, and the glory

of the discovery had come in some measure to be appreciated, the claim

was set up that a congress or junta of learned men was called together,

and that the whole subject was submitted to their consideration. The

account, however, is accompanied with many suspicious circumstances.

The historian Remesal was a Dominican monk and a member of the

monastery of St. Stephen at Salamanca, where, it is said, the junta

was held. In his narrative he claims that the ecclesiastical members,

for the most part monks of St. Stephen, listened with approval to

the presentation of the case, while those who might be called the

scientific members strenuously opposed it. This statement, which is

the basis of Irving’s account, is not only inherently improbable, but

is supported by no contemporaneous evidence whatever. The absence of

such evidence, moreover, is enough to condemn the whole story. The

records of the monastery, which are supposed to be complete, contain

no reference to any such meeting. Las Casas, himself a Dominican,

would have been sure to introduce the account into his narrative if it

had rested upon any basis of fact. He makes no allusion to any such

meeting, and we are forced to conclude that the story was fabricated

for ecclesiastical purposes. But although no such formal meeting was

ever held, there is evidence that Ferdinand obtained, in an informal

way, the opinions of some of the most learned men of the time.

The city of Salamanca, where this order was issued, seemed in every way

favourable for such a hearing; for at this ancient capital was situated

one of the most renowned universities of Spain. It is difficult to

suppose that the professors of that venerable institution were not

familiar with the latest theories in regard to the sphericity of the

earth; but notwithstanding this fact, Columbus had to confront, not

only the prudent conservatism of learning, but also the obstinate

conservatism of the Church. The faculties were made up partly of

ecclesiastics, and partly of others who soon became fully imbued

with the ecclesiastical spirit. It was at a time when there was

no more thought of tolerating heresy than there was of tolerating

arson. The Inquisition, as we have just seen, had recently been

established. In both the king and the queen an ardent religious zeal

was united with great political and military skill, as well as great

personal popularity. Heresy was the most dangerous of crimes, and

the strictest adherence to traditional doctrines was encouraged by

all the considerations of loyalty, of interest, and of prudence. To

the dark colours in which heresy was painted by the Church in the

fifteenth century, a still deeper hue was now added by the horrors

of the Moorish wars. It is therefore easy to explain why the people

of Spain surpassed the people of other countries in the fervour of

religious intolerance. Columbus was obliged to plead the cause of his

departure from traditional methods in an atmosphere charged with all

these predispositions, prejudices, and motives. By the vulgar crowd the

navigator had persistently been scoffed at as a visionary; but with

something of the hopeful enthusiasm of an adventurer, he had steadily

maintained the belief that it was only necessary to meet a body of

enlightened men to insure their conversion to his cause.

But his hopefulness was destined to be disabused. We can well believe

that his project appeared in a somewhat unfavourable light before the

learned men of the day. To them he was simply an obscure navigator,

and a foreigner at that, depending upon nothing more than the force

of the reasons he might be able to present. Some of them, no doubt,

looked upon him simply as an adventurer, while others were disposed to

manifest their impatience at any doctrinal innovation. The predominance

of opinion seemed to intrench itself in the belief that after so many

cosmographers and navigators had been studying and exploring the globe

for centuries, it was simply an absurd presumption to suppose that any

new discoveries of importance were now to be made.

The discussion, almost at the very first, was taken out of the

domain of science. Instead of attempting to present astronomical and

geographical objections to the proposed voyage, the objectors assailed

the scheme with citations from the Bible and from the Fathers of the

Church. The book of Genesis, the Psalms of David, the Prophets, and

the Gospels were all put upon the witness-stand and made to testify

to the impossibility of success. Saint Chrysostom, Saint Augustine,

Lactantius, Saint Jerome, Saint Gregory, and a host of others, were

cited as confirmatory witnesses. Philosophical and mathematical

demonstrations received no consideration. The simple proposition of

Columbus that the earth was spherical was met with texts of Scripture

in a manner that was worthy of Father Jasper.

These various presentations, however, were by no means in vain;

for there was far from unanimity of opinion. There were a few who

admitted that Saint Thomas Aquinas and Saint Isadore might be right

in believing the earth to be globular in form; though even these were

inclined to deny that circumnavigation was possible. It is a pleasure

to note, however, that there was one conspicuous exception to the

general current of opposition and resistance. Whether dating from this

period we do not know, but it is certain that an early interest was

taken in the cause by Diego de Deza, a learned friar of the order of

St. Dominic, who afterward became archbishop of Seville, one of the

highest ecclesiastical dignitaries of the realm. Deza appears to have

risen quite above the limitations of mere ecclesiastical lore; for he

not only took a generous interest in the cause of the explorer, but he

seconded and encouraged his efforts with all the means at his command.

Perhaps it was by his efforts that so deep an impression was made on

the most learned men of the conference. However this may have been, the

ignorant and the prejudiced remained obstinate in their opposition, and

so the season at Salamanca passed away without bringing the monarchs to

any decision.

After the winter of 1486-87, there occurred a long and painful period

of delays. In the following spring the court departed from Salamanca

and went to Cordova to prepare for the memorable campaign against

Malaga. Columbus accompanied the expedition in the vain hope that there

would be an opportunity for a further hearing. At one time when the

Spanish armies were encamped on the hills and plains surrounding the

beleaguered city, Columbus was summoned to court; but amid the din

of a terrible contest there was no place for a calm consideration of

the great maritime project. The summer was full of incident and peril.

At one time the king was surprised and nearly cut off by the craft of

the old Moorish monarch; at another a Moorish fanatic attempted to

assassinate both king and queen, only to be cut to pieces after he had

wounded the prince of Portugal and the Marchioness de Moya, supposing

them to be Ferdinand and Isabella.

But it is easy to imagine that this seemingly untoward event

contributed to help on the cause of Columbus. The Marchioness de Moya

had warmly espoused his cause, and the attempt upon her life can hardly

have failed to appeal to the interest of Queen Isabella.

Malaga surrendered in August, and the king and queen almost immediately

returned to Cordova. The pestilence, however, very soon made that old

city an unsafe abode. For a while the court was in what might be called

the turmoil of migration. At one time it was in Valladolid, at another

in Saragossa, at another in Medina de Campo. But during all this period

its ardent business was the pressing forward of the Spanish armies into

the Moorish territories. As every reader of Irving knows, the ground

was stubbornly contested, inch by inch. Columbus remained for the most

part with the army; but he sought in vain for the quiet necessary for a

dispassionate hearing.

It could hardly have been otherwise. Ferdinand and Isabella have

often been reproached with needless delays in the matter of rendering

the required assistance; but such a reproach cannot be justified. The

custom of the time sanctioned, even if it did not require, that the

court should accompany the military camp. The Government was not only

at the head of the army, but it was actually and continuously in the

field. All other questions were absorbed by the military interests

of the moment; and it would have been singular indeed, if, in such

a situation, the resources of the treasury had been called upon to

subsidize an expedition that as yet had been unable to secure the

approval of the learned men who had been asked to consider its merits.

It would be difficult to show that the course taken by the monarchs

was not both wise and natural. The period of the war was a fit time in

which to ascertain the merits of the proposal; and if after the contest

should be brought to an end, the reports should be found favorable, the

expedition could be fitted out with such assistance as might comport

with the condition of the treasury and the necessities of the case.

But, on the other hand, it was not singular that Columbus was at this

time wearied and discouraged by the delays. The end of the war was

still involved in great uncertainty, and there was no assurance that

even at the return of peace his proposals would receive the royal

approval and support. It was not unnatural, then, that he began to

think of applying elsewhere for assistance. In the spring of 1488 he

wrote to the king of Portugal, asking permission to return to that

country. The reply, received on the 20th of March, not only extended

the desired invitation, but also gave him the significant assurance

of protection against any suits of a criminal or civil nature that

might be pending against him. About the same time he seems also to

have received a letter from Henry VII. of England, inviting him to

that country, and holding out certain vague promises of encouragement.

Though this letter was doubtless the fruit of the efforts made by his

brother Bartholomew, there is no evidence that Columbus ever thought

favourably of accepting the invitation. Why it was that he delayed

going to Portugal until late in the autumn cannot be determined with

certainty. It is, however, not difficult to conjecture. Harrisse has

found in the treasury-books memoranda of small amounts of money paid

to Columbus from time to time during his stay in the vicinity of the

Spanish court. Ferdinand and Isabella were sufficiently interested in

the project to be unwilling that he should carry his proposition to

another monarch. At least, they were anxious that he should not commit

himself elsewhere until they should have had opportunity to examine

into the project with care; and then, at the close of the war, if it

seemed best, they would give him the needed support. Accordingly,

elaborate preparations for a new hearing were at once made. No less

than three royal orders were issued,--one summoning Columbus to a

council of learned men at Seville; one directing the city authorities

to provide lodgings for the navigator, as for an officer of the

government; another commanding the magistrates of the cities along the

way to furnish accommodations for him and for his attendants.

These orders were all carried out; but the conference was postponed,

and finally interrupted by the opening of the campaign for the summer.

The annals of Seville contain a statement that in this campaign

Columbus was found fighting and “giving proofs of the distinguishing

valor which accompanied his wisdom and his lofty desires.” What we

positively know of the course of events may be summed up as follows.

On the 3d of July, 1487, he received the second stipend in money. At

the end of the following August we find him at the siege of Malaga.

In the winter of 1487-88 he was at Cordova, when his relations with

Beatriz Enriquez resulted in the birth of his son Fernando on the 15th

of August, 1488. On the 16th of June of this year Columbus received

the third allowance of money. Early in the spring he had asked for

permission to return to Portugal, and the letter granting his request

bears date of the 20th of March. The journey was not undertaken,

however, until after the birth of his son. When he went, and how long

he remained in Portugal, are uncertain; for the only positive proof

that he took the journey at all is a memorandum in his own handwriting,

dated at Lisbon in December of 1488. It is, however, interesting to

note that this memorandum, made in his copy of Cardinal d’Ailly’s

“Imago Mundi,” calls attention to the return of Diaz from his voyage to

the Cape of Good Hope. It is, however, definitely ascertained that he

returned in the spring of 1489; for on the 12th of May of that year an

order was issued to all the authorities of the cities through which he

passed, to furnish him all needed support and assistance at the royal

expense.

The fact that this is the last time that Columbus figures in the

order-books of the treasury has led Harrisse to infer that the

navigator saw no immediate chance of success, and so for a time

abstained from the further pressing of his suit.

We are thus brought to the autumn of 1489, when Columbus, seeing

little reason for hope, but still not so discouraged as to abandon

his cause, formed an acquaintance which proved to be of incalculable

value. How the acquaintance came about, we have no means of knowing.

The authorities are so at variance with one another on the subject

that there has been much difference of opinion as to the time when the

acquaintance was formed. Irving and the larger number of modern writers

have supposed that the events which resulted from this connection

occurred soon after Columbus entered Spain. Harrisse, however, has

pointed out with great acumen the difficulties in the way of accepting

this supposition, and has established at least an overwhelming

probability that the residence of the navigator with the Duke of Medina

Celi extended from the early months of 1490 to the end of 1491.

At the beginning of the fifteenth century Spain was still very largely

made up of principalities that were practically independent. Two of

these were possessed and governed by the Dukes of Medina Sidonia

and Medina Celi. In the wars against Naples, as well as in the long

struggle against the Moors, these noblemen fitted out expeditions

and conducted campaigns with something like regal independence and

magnitude. They lived in royal splendour, and dispensed a royal

hospitality. As their vast states lay along the sea-coast at the

southwest of Spain, where they had ships and ports, as well as hosts of

retainers, it is not singular that this enterprising refugee from the

Spanish camp found his way into their domains.

With Medina Sidonia, Columbus seems to have had no special success,

though the nobleman is reported to have given him many interviews. The

very splendour of the project may have thrown over it such a colouring

of improbability as to raise a feeling of distrust. To the hard-headed

old hero of so many campaigns, the proposal was simply the undertaking

of an Italian visionary.

But upon Medina Celi the navigator made a more favourable impression.

Unfortunately, we are dependent for information almost solely upon the

statements of the duke. But the narrative has the air of probability.

He says that he entertained Columbus for two years at his house. At one

time he had gone so far as to set apart and fit out several of his own

ships for the purposes of an expedition; but it suddenly occurred to

him that an enterprise of such magnitude and importance should go forth

under no less sanction than that of the sovereign power. Finding that

Columbus in his disappointment had decided to turn next to the king of

France, the duke determined to write to Queen Isabella and recommend

him strongly to her favourable consideration. Among other things, he

wrote that the glory of such an enterprise, if successful, should be

kept by the monarchs of Spain. Of the kind favour of the duke there can

be no question; for the letter of introduction carried by Columbus is

still preserved. This important document not only commends the bearer

to favourable consideration, but it also asks that in case the favour

should be granted, the duke himself might have the privilege of a share

in the enterprise, and that the expedition might be fitted out at his

own port of St. Marie, as a recompense for having waived his privilege

in favour of the grant.

During the next year and a half the prospect seemed in no way more

propitious. Columbus, even though he now had the support of Medina

Celi, must have been reduced to something like desperation. The court

was making preparations for a final campaign against Granada, with a

full determination never to raise the siege until the Spanish flag

should float above the last Moorish citadel. Columbus knew that when

once the campaign should be entered upon, it would be vain to expect

any attention to his cause. Accordingly, he pressed for an immediate

answer. The sovereigns called upon the queen’s confessor, Talavera, to

obtain the opinions of the scientific men and to report their decision.

This order was complied with; but after due consideration, a majority

decided that the proposed scheme was vain and impossible.

This answer would seem to have been, for the time at least, conclusive;

but the men consulted were by no means unanimous. On the contrary,

several of the learned members strenuously exerted themselves in favour

of the enterprise. Of these the most earnest and influential was the

friar Diego de Deza, who, owing to his influential position as tutor of

Prince John, had ready access to the royal ear. The matter, therefore,

was not peremptorily dismissed. The monarchs, instead of rejecting the

application outright, ordered Talavera to inform Columbus that the

expense of the war and the cares attending it made it impossible to

undertake any new enterprise; but that when peace should be assured,

the sovereigns would have leisure and inclination to reconsider the

whole question.

Disheartened and indignant at what he considered nothing more than a

courtly method of evading and dismissing his suit, Columbus resolved

immediately to turn his back upon the Spanish court. For six years

he had now pleaded his cause, apparently in vain. Hoping for nothing

further, he determined to seek the patronage of the king of France.

It is interesting to note that, taking his boy Diego with him, he

made his way to that very seaport town upon which a little later he

was to bestow an undying fame by embarking from it on his memorable

expedition. Notwithstanding the fact that Medina Celi had given him a

home, he must have been reduced to extreme poverty. He seems not only

to have travelled on foot, but also to have been under the necessity

of begging even for a crust of bread.

Just before he was to reach the port at Palos, Columbus stopped at the

gate of the convent of Santa Maria de la Rabida to ask for food and

water for himself and his little boy. It happened that the prior of

the convent was Juan Parez de Marchena, a friar who had once been the

confessor of Queen Isabella. He appears to have had some geographical

knowledge; for he at once interested himself in the conversation of

Columbus, and was greatly impressed with the grandeur of his views.

On hearing that the navigator was to abandon Spain and turn to the

court of France, his patriotism was aroused. He not only urged the

hospitality of the convent upon the traveller until further advice

could be taken, but within a few days he enlisted two or three persons

of influence for his cause. One of these was Garcia Fernandez, a

physician; another was Martin Alonzo Pinzon, an experienced navigator

of Palos. Pinzon, on hearing what was proposed, was so fully convinced

of the feasibility of the plan that he offered to bear the expense of

the new application, and, if successful, to assist the expedition with

his purse and his person.

But it was to the prior of the convent that Columbus was to be most

indebted. The result of their several interviews was the determination

that the queen’s old confessor should make one further appeal. With

this end in view, a courier was despatched with a letter. It was

successful. After a wearisome journey of fourteen days, the messenger

returned with a note summoning Perez to the royal court, then encamped

about Granada. At midnight of the same day the prior mounted his mule

and set out on his mission of persuasion.

On arriving at the camp, Perez was received with a welcome that gave

him great freedom. As the queen’s old confessor, he had immediate

access to the royal presence, and he pleaded the project of the

navigator with fervid enthusiasm. He defended the scientific principles

on which it was founded; he urged the unquestionable capacity of

Columbus to carry out the undertaking; he pictured not only the

advantages that must come from success, but also the glory that would

accrue to the Government under whose patronage success should be

achieved.

The queen listened with attention. It is interesting to note that

the cause was warmly seconded by the queen’s favourite, the same

Marchioness de Moya whose life had been imperilled by the dagger of the

Moorish fanatic. A decision was reached without much delay. The queen

not only requested that Columbus might be sent to her, but she gave the

messengers a purse to bear the necessary expenses, and to enable the

maritime suitor to travel and present himself with decency and comfort.

The successful friar at once returned to the convent, and reported the

result of his mission to his waiting friends. Without delay, Columbus

exchanged his garb for one suited to the atmosphere of the court, and

set out for the royal presence.

In his journal, as quoted by Las Casas, Columbus tells us that he

arrived at Granada in time to see the end of that memorable war. After

a struggle of nearly eight hundred years, the Crescent had at length

succumbed to the Cross, and the banners of Spain were planted on the

highest tower of the Alhambra. The jubilee that followed had all the

characteristics of Spanish magnificence. But in these festivities

Columbus probably took only the part of an observer. By one of the

Spanish historians he is represented as “melancholy and dejected in the

midst of general rejoicings.”

As soon as the festivities were over, his cause had a hearing. Fernando

de Talavera, now elevated to the archbishopric of Granada, was

appointed to carry on the negotiations. At the very outset, however,

difficulties arose that seemed to be insuperable. Columbus would listen

to none but princely conditions. He made the stupendous mistake of

demanding that he should be admiral and viceroy over all the countries

he might discover. As pecuniary compensation, he also asked for a tenth

of all gains either by trade or conquest.

It can hardly be considered singular that the courtiers were indignant

at what they regarded as his extravagant requirements. Though Columbus

had seen much and hard service at sea, his experience hitherto had

not been of a nature to reveal any extraordinary ability. For six

years he had been simply a wandering suppliant for royal favour.

What he now demanded was to be put into the very highest rank in the

realm. As admiral and viceroy he would stand next to the sovereigns

on land, as well as on sea. What he asked as compensation, though it

would stimulate every temptation to abuse, was not of so unreasonable

a nature. But to promote this obscure navigator, and a foreigner at

that, over all the veterans who had for perhaps half a century been

faithfully earning recognition, seemed very naturally to the archbishop

preposterous indeed. One of the courtiers observed with a sneer that

it was a shrewd arrangement that he proposed, whereby in any event

he would have the honor of the command and the rank, while he had

nothing whatever to lose in case of failure. Though Columbus, doubtless

remembering the offer of Pinzon, offered to furnish one eighth of the

cost, on condition of having one eighth of the profits, his terms were

pronounced inadmissible. The commission represented to the queen that,

even in case of success, the demands would be exorbitant, while in case

of failure, as evidence of extraordinary credulity, they would subject

the Crown to ridicule.

More than all this, the terms demanded were of such a nature as to stir

the jealousy and hostility of all the less fortunate naval commanders.

Columbus has been represented by Irving and many of the other

biographers as having shown in these demands a loftiness of spirit and

a firmness of purpose that are worthy of the highest commendation. But

when one looks at the far-reaching consequences of the terms insisted

upon, one can hardly fail to see in them the source of very much of the

unhappiness and opposition that followed him throughout his career.

The strenuousness of his terms, by throwing wide open the door to every

form of abuse, detracted from his happiness and diminished his claim to

greatness.

But Columbus would listen to nothing less than all these conditions.

More moderate terms were offered, and such as now seem in every way to

have been honourable and advantageous. But all was in vain. He would

not cede a single point in his demands. The negotiations accordingly

had to be broken off. He determined to abandon the court of Spain

forever rather than detract one iota from the dignity of the great

enterprise he had in view. We are told that, taking leave of his

friends, he mounted his mule and sallied forth from Santa Fé, intending

immediately to present his cause at the court of France.

But no sooner had he gone than the friends who had ardently supported

him were filled with something like consternation. They determined to

make one last appeal directly to the queen. The agents of this movement

were the royal treasurer, Luis de Santangel, and Alonzo de Quintanilla.

Santangel was the one who presented the cause. On two points he placed

special stress, and he urged them with great power and eloquence. The

first may be condensed into the phrase that while the loss would, in

any event, be but trifling, the gain, in case of success, would be

incalculable. In the second place he urged that if the enterprise were

not undertaken by Spain, it would doubtless be taken up by one of the

rival nations and carried to triumphant success. He then appealed

to what the queen was in the habit of doing for the glory of God,

the exaltation of the Church, and the extension of her own power and

dominion. Here, it was urged, was an opportunity to surpass them all.

He called attention to the offer of Columbus to bear an eighth of the

expense, and advised her that the requisites for the enterprise would

not exceed three thousand crowns. The Marchioness de Moya was present,

and added her eloquence to that of Santangel.

These representations had the desired effect, and the queen resolved

on the spot to undertake the enterprise. The story, so often repeated,

that the queen pledged her jewels for the necessary expense, rests

upon no contemporaneous evidence, and has recently been shown to be

extremely improbable. It was not necessary, for Santangel declared that

he was ready to supply the money out of the treasury of Aragon. The

adoption of the cause by the queen was complete and unconditional.

It was in the narrow pass at the foot of Mount Elvira, a few miles from

Granada, that the swift messenger of this good news overtook Columbus

on his dejected retreat. No very fertile fancy is required to imagine

with some confidence the emotions of the explorer as he listened to the

story of the queen’s new decision. Turning the rein, he hastened his

jaded mule with all possible speed to the royal court at Santa Fé.

For reasons which it is not easy to understand, there were still

considerable delays before the requisite papers received their final

signature. Whether there were disagreements still to be adjusted

cannot now be known. Columbus returned to the court early in February,

but it was not until the 17th of April that the stipulations had been

duly made out and signed.

In form the papers were the work of the royal secretary, but they

received the assent and signature of both monarchs. The principal

commission is of so much importance that it is here given in full:--

1. First, your Highnesses, in virtue of your dominion over

the said seas, shall constitute from this time forth the said

Don Christopher Columbus your admiral in all the islands and

territories which he may discover or acquire in the said seas,

this power to continue in him during his life, and at his death

to descend to his heirs and successors from one to another

perpetually, with all the dignities and prerogatives appertaining

to the said office, and according to the manner in which this

dignity has been held by Don Alonzo Henriquez, your High Admiral

of Castile, and by the other admirals in their several districts.

2. Furthermore, your Highnesses shall constitute the said Don

Christopher Columbus your viceroy and governor-general in all the

said islands and territories to be discovered in the said seas;

and for the government of each place three persons shall be named

by him, out of which number your Highnesses shall select one to

hold the office in question.

3. Furthermore, in the acquisition by trade, discovery, or any

other method, of all goods, merchandise, pearls, precious stones,

gold, silver, spices, and all other articles, within the limits

of the said admiralty, the tenth part of their value shall be the

property of the said Don Christopher Columbus, after deducting

the amount expended in obtaining them, and the other nine tenths

shall be the property of your Highnesses.

4. Furthermore, if any controversy or law-suit should arise in

these territories relating to the goods which he may obtain

there, or relating to any goods which others may obtain by trade

in the same places, the jurisdiction in the said cases shall,

by virtue of his office of admiral, pertain to him alone or

his deputy, provided the said prerogative belong to the office

of admiral, according as that dignity has been held by the

above-mentioned Admiral Don Alonzo Henriquez, and the others

of that rank in their several districts, and provided the said

regulation be just.

5. Furthermore, in the fitting out of any fleets for the purpose

of trade in the said territories, the said Don Christopher

Columbus shall on every such occasion be allowed the privilege

of furnishing one eighth of the expenses of the expedition, and

shall at such times receive an eighth part of the profits arising

therefrom.

In the formal commission we find these words:

“We therefore by this commission confer on you the office

of admiral, viceroy, and governor, to be held in hereditary

possession forever, with all the privileges and salaries

pertaining thereto.”

Surely these were extraordinary powers. From any unjust exercise of

supreme authority in the lands Columbus might discover, there was to be

no appeal. The authority was limited, moreover, by neither custom nor

method. In the matter of governorships he was to have the sole right

of nomination, and in all questions of dispute in regard to his own

interest in goods obtained either by himself or by anybody else, he or

his deputy was to have sole jurisdiction.

The temptation to exercise these powers for the oppression of

a barbarous people would seem, even under the most favourable

circumstances, to be quite as much as human nature could bear. But the

circumstances were not favourable. The danger was in the fact that a

high pecuniary premium was put upon the abuse of authority.

The promise of a tenth of all that the Admiral might acquire by

trade, discovery, “or any other method,” was a powerful stimulant

to cruelty and cupidity. Unfortunately, the age was one when every

people that did not avow Christianity was regarded as legitimate

spoil for the Christian invader. This fact took away the last feeble

guarantee of public opinion. In estimating the character of Columbus

we must remember that he was subjected to the temptations of unlimited

authority, of immeasurable opportunity, and of exemption from all

accountability, either to the Government or to public opinion. His

place in history must ultimately be determined by the manner in which

it shall be shown that he administered this trust.

The fact should not be overlooked that there was always a powerful

religious motive in all the plans of Columbus. One of his purposes

in seeking to reach eastern Asia by sailing westward was an opening

of the way for the conversion of the people to Christianity. His

writings abound in expressions of this desire. In all his plans for

his expedition he made prominent his wish to gain the means necessary

for the conquest of the Holy Land. In his nature and his faith there

was much of the religious zeal of the mediæval Crusader, united

with a tendency to indulge in the fervid religious rhetoric of the

seventeenth-century Puritan. Columbus hoped, by these explorations in

the west, to acquire the means of succeeding in that enterprise of

bringing Jerusalem back into the control of Christianity, which for

three centuries had baffled the efforts of all Christendom.

During the six long years of Columbus’s waiting in Spain, the relations

of Ferdinand and Isabella to the projects of Columbus were such as

to merit our high commendation. We have seen that immediately after

his cause was presented to the sovereigns for consideration, it was

referred to the most learned men in the vicinity of the court. It is

difficult to conjecture how any disposition of the question could,

at that time, have been more appropriate. Whenever the subject was

presented anew, a similar reference of the subject was made. From no

one of these references was there received a favourable report. But

when the war had been brought to a close, and when, in consequence,

there was opportunity for a personal examination of the matter, the

whole subject was taken into sympathetic consideration. The romantic

and religious elements of the project appealed strongly to Isabella.

Ferdinand acted with characteristic caution. The needed money appears

to have been taken from the chest of the king, but only on condition

that in due time it should be restored, if need be, from the chest of

the queen. Thus it may be said that the husband loaned the trifling

subsidy necessary for the enterprise, on the security of his wife.

This arrangement suited both monarchs, and therefore both signed the

commissions of the Admiral.

If we were asked for the names of those who rendered the highest

service to Columbus during this trying period, the answer would not be

easy. In the immediate vicinity of the court Alfonso de Quintanilla

was the first to espouse his cause with ardour, and he remained an

unswerving advocate. Among those to whom the cause was submitted for

advice, the ecclesiastic, Diego de Deza, is entitled to the credit of

having been the first and the most faithful of supporters. The Duke of

Medina Celi gave to the navigator the support which detained him at a

moment when he seemed to be on the point of abandoning Spain forever.

The friar of La Rabida, Juan Parez de Marchena, the old confessor of

the queen, made a successful effort to renew the suit after all hope

had been abandoned. And finally, when the demands of Columbus seemed

preposterous for their magnitude, the united efforts of Santangel, the

Marchioness de Moya, Quintanilla, and Talavera succeeded in bringing

the queen up to the point of a favourable decision. To all of these

advocates no small quota of the credit for success is due. But in

distributing this credit there must be no forgetting or obscuring

of the work of Columbus himself. We have seen that the advocacy of

the navigator was full of inconsistencies and extravagances. He was

a foreigner, and one that looked very much like an adventurer. The

time and the circumstances seemed the most inopportune. All these

facts argued strongly against his cause. But in spite of them all,

his knowledge, his courage, his faith, his tact, and his persistency

were enough to hold a band of powerful advocates firmly to his great

cause, and, in the end, bring it to success. Whatever abatements from

an unreasonable glorification of Columbus modern research may feel

compelled to make, these are great qualities, which the progress of

time can never efface or obscure.

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