THE FOURTH VOYAGE.
The arrival of Columbus in chains at the port of Cadiz produced a deep
sensation. It was but natural that there should be an instantaneous
reaction in his favour. Even those who had not hesitated to criticise
or even denounce him, were now moved with a deep and natural sympathy
at the ignominy that had overtaken him. The reaction took possession of
all classes, and the agitation of the community was scarcely less than
it had been when, seven years before, with banners flying and music
sounding, he had departed from the same port with a fleet of seventeen
ships for his second voyage.
The tidings of his imprisonment soon spread abroad. In the luxurious
city of Seville there was deep and general indignation. The court
was at Granada. Columbus, still ignorant as to how far the course of
Bobadilla had received royal authority, abstained from writing to the
monarchs. While on shipboard, however, he had written an elaborate
letter to Donna Juana de la Torres, formerly a nurse of Prince Juan,
and still a great favourite of the queen. The letter was doubtless
written in the supposition that it would reach the court without
delay; and with the permission of the master of the ship, it was
despatched by the hand of Antonio de Torres, a friend of Columbus and
a brother of Juana. Las Casas tells us that it was by this letter
that Ferdinand and Isabella first learned of the indignities that had
been heaped upon the Admiral. Other tidings, however, soon followed.
A friendly letter from Vallejo confirmed in all essential points the
narrative of Columbus. A despatch was also received from the alcalde to
whose hands Columbus had been consigned to await the pleasure of the
sovereigns.
Ferdinand and Isabella acted without hesitation. Las Casas tells us
that the queen was deeply agitated by the letter of Columbus. Even
the more prudent Ferdinand did not deem it necessary to wait for the
despatches from Bobadilla. They declared at once that the commissioner
had exceeded his instructions, and ordered that Columbus should not
only be set free, but should be treated with every consideration. They
invited him to court, and ordered a credit of two thousand ducats (a
sum equal to more than ten thousand dollars at the present day) to
defray his expenses.
Columbus reached the court at Granada on the 17th of December. His
hearing before the king and queen is said not to have been that of
a man who had been disgraced and humiliated, but rather that of one
whose proud spirit was meeting undeserved reproach with a lofty
scorn. He was richly dressed, and attended with a retinue becoming
his high office. The king and queen received him with unqualified
distinction, and encouraged him with gracious expressions of favour. At
length, regaining his self-possession, Columbus delivered an earnest
vindication of his course. He explained what he had done, declaring
that if at any time he had erred, it had been through inexperience
in government, and the extraordinary difficulties under which he had
laboured.
Isabella replied in a speech that did great credit to her discretion as
well as her sympathy. She declared that while she fully appreciated the
magnitude of his services and the rancour of his enemies, she feared
that he had given cause for complaint. Charlevoix has reported what
purports to be the speech of the queen.
“Common report,” she said, “accuses you of acting with a degree
of severity quite unsuitable for an infant colony, and likely
to excite rebellion there. But the matter as to which I find
it hardest to give you my pardon is your conduct in reducing
to slavery a number of Indians who had done nothing to deserve
such a fate. This was contrary to my express orders. As your ill
fortune willed it, just at the time when I heard of this breach
of my instructions, everybody was complaining of you, and no
one spoke a word in your favour. And I felt obliged to send to
the Indies a commissioner to investigate matters and give me a
true report, and, if necessary, to put limits to the authority
which you were accused of overstepping. If you were found guilty
of the charges, he was to relieve you of the government and to
send you to Spain to give an account of your stewardship. This
was the extent of his commission. I find that I have made a bad
choice in my agent, and I shall take care to make an example of
Bobadilla which will serve as a warning to others not to exceed
their powers. I cannot, however, promise to reinstate you at once
in your government. People are too much inflamed against you,
and must have time to cool. As to your rank of Admiral, I never
intended to deprive you of it. But you must abide your time and
trust in me.”
The course pursued by the monarchs was not altogether above reproach;
for in their haste to make amends to Columbus, they were not unwilling
to throw an unjust imputation upon Bobadilla. Whatever had been the
intention of the monarchs, it is now plain that the commissioner had
not exceeded his authority in making the arrest; and that the monarchs
should be willing to dismiss their agent without waiting even to
receive his report, is evidence that they had either forgotten the
nature of their instructions, or that they were now carried away by the
representations of the Admiral or the clamours of the populace.
The Admiral, however, had but little reason to be satisfied. He cared
not so much for the removal of Bobadilla as for his own reinstatement.
This he deemed necessary to a complete vindication; but in this he was
doomed to disappointment. There is no evidence that Ferdinand ever
looked with favour on the restoration of Columbus to his command.
The misfortune that had befallen the Admiral was of a nature to awaken
sympathy in every generous mind. Even down to the present day this
feeling is so wide spread that it is difficult to secure a judicious
discrimination between the fact of his removal and the manner in which
the removal was accomplished. But these two phases of the subject
are entirely distinct, and ought to be independently considered. The
manner of the removal can have no justification. This was admitted
by the monarchs, who in order to shield themselves from obloquy were
not unwilling to bring an unjust charge against the commissioner. It
is now plain that the fault of Bobadilla was not in exceeding his
authority, but in the unwise and immoderate use of the discretion that
had been placed in his hands. It is by no means certain that a careful
investigation of affairs in the island, followed by a judicious and
moderate report, would not have resulted in a removal of the Admiral
from his command; for it is quite possible that even if Columbus was
not deserving of censure, the relations of the different interests were
in such turmoil that a governor who had had no connection with affairs
thus far, would be more successful in subduing anarchy and in bringing
order out of chaos.
But whether such a result would have ensued, can never be more than a
matter of mere conjecture. It is certain that the difficulties of the
situation had not been successfully overcome by Columbus or by either
of his brothers. It is incontestable that even as late as the arrival
of Bobadilla, affairs on the island were in great confusion, and that
the rebellion had been subdued only by the granting of terms that were
not very creditable either to Columbus or to Spanish civilization.
There is nothing remaining that throws more light on the condition of
affairs in Hispaniola at the time of which we are speaking, than the
letter of Columbus to the old nurse of Don Juan. Any one who reads it
thoughtfully must receive a number of very heterogeneous impressions.
With a little more than usual intensity, it breathes a loyal and
pietistic spirit. It conveys a very delicate, but at the same time a
very just, reproach to the monarchs for bestowing on Bobadilla the
authority which he received. Nothing could have been more justly or
felicitously expressed than the sentence in which he declared: “I have
been wounded extremely by the thought that a man should have been
sent out to make inquiry into my conduct who knew that if he sent
home a very aggravated account of the result of his investigation, he
would remain at the head of the government.” He showed, moreover, the
unpardonable precipitancy with which Bobadilla had acted, in making his
arrests right and left before he had had time to conduct any proper
investigations.
But after all these mitigations are admitted, and after Columbus has
received every credit that can be accorded him, there still remains the
fact that the island had been in turmoil almost from the first; that
the Indians, who, according to the testimony of Columbus himself, had
been at the first everywhere friendly and peaceable, had now become
universally hostile; that even if these disorders had largely occurred
in the absence of the Admiral, it was nevertheless true that they had
all occurred under officers appointed by Columbus himself; that even
if, as he said, vast numbers of men had gone to the Indies “who did
not deserve water from God or man,” still, all the men that had gone
had been accepted for the purpose by the Admiral himself; that if he
complained that the Spanish settlers “would give as much for a woman
as for a farm,” and that “this sort of trading is very common,” still
this iniquity was all under an administration of which he himself was
the head, and directly under subordinates whom he himself had appointed
to command and, most important of all, under a system which he himself
had recommended, and for which he alone was responsible. It may well be
asserted that the comprehensive nature of his own commission, and the
fact that his appointments had not been interfered with, estopped him
from asserting that all responsibility for failure was to be charged
to the wickedness and the weakness of his subordinates. Had Columbus
been completely adequate to the situation, he would have bound his
subordinates to him in unquestioning loyalty. The truth is, however,
that from first to last, with the exception of his brothers, those who
were nearest him in command sooner or later became his enemies,--and
generally the enmity was not long delayed.
But there were other considerations that led Ferdinand to hesitate.
The colony had not been prosperous from any point of view. It had been
a continuous and unlessening source of expense, and had brought as
yet very small returns. The hopes that the early reports of Columbus
had aroused had ended in disappointment. The Admiral had confidently
expected to come upon all the wealth of the Great Khan and of Cathay.
Even the gold mines of Ophir, which he believed he had at length
discovered, brought no returns.
In the mean time, however, the court was besieged with the
importunities of enterprising navigators who desired permission to make
explorations without governmental support. The only favour they asked
was the privilege of sailing and of bringing back to the royal treasury
the due quota of their gains. They promised to plant the Spanish
standard in all the lands of the west, and thus, without depleting
the treasury, maintain and even advance the glories of the Spanish
discoveries.
To such importunities the Government began to yield as early as 1495.
The privileges that were granted were in obvious violation of the
exclusive rights bestowed upon Columbus before the first voyage. But
it was not easy to observe the letter of that contract. The lands
discovered were so much vaster in extent than even Columbus had
anticipated that it would be unreasonable to expect a comprehensive
observance of the monopoly granted. Though the Admiral made repeated
and not unreasonable complaints of the privileges bestowed upon others
in violation of his charter, yet the custom of granting such privileges
was never completely discontinued. Nor would it have been reasonable
to suppose that a monopoly of navigation and government in the western
world could forever remain exclusively in the sacred possession of
a single family. It was simply a question as to when that monopoly
should cease. That there was no purpose to do injustice, was shown
in the requirement that the interests of Columbus in the products of
the island should be respected to the letter by Bobadilla and his
successors.
During the eight years that had now elapsed since the first voyage
of the Admiral, a considerable number of navigators had already
immortalized themselves by important discoveries and explorations. The
Cabots, going out from Bristol, where they had doubtless learned of
the projects and the success of Columbus, sailed westward by a more
northerly route, and after reaching the continent a year before South
America was touched by the Spanish navigator, explored the coast as
far as from Newfoundland to Florida. As early as 1487, after seventy
years of slow advances down the six thousand miles of western African
coast, the Portuguese, under Bartholomew Diaz, as we have already
noted, had reached the Cape of Good Hope; and ten years later, just as
Columbus was preparing for his third voyage, Vasca da Gama doubled the
Cape, and in the following spring cast anchor in the bay at Calicut.
In the spring of 1499 Pedro Alonzo Nino, who had accompanied Columbus
as a pilot in the voyage to Cuba and Paria, obtained a license, and
not only explored the coast of Central America for several hundred
miles, but traded his European goods to such advantage as to enable
him to return after one of the most extensive and lucrative voyages
yet accomplished. In the same year, Vincente Yanez Pinzon, who had
commanded one of the ships in the first expedition of Columbus, pushed
boldly to the southwest, and, crossing the equator, came finally to the
great headland which is now known as Cape St. Augustine, and for their
Catholic Majesties not only took possession of the territories called
the Brazils, but discovered what was afterwards appropriately named the
River of the Amazons. In the year 1500 Diego Lepe, fired with the zeal
for discovery that had set the port of Palos aglow, went still farther
to the south, and, turning Cape St. Augustine, ascertained that either
the mainland or an enormous island ran far away to the southwest.
Most important and significant of all, the fleet which, in the year
1500, was sent out from Portugal under Pedro Cabral, for the Cape of
Good Hope, in striving, according to the advice of Da Gama, to avoid
the dangers of the coast islands, drifted so far west that when it was
caught in a violent easterly storm, it was driven upon the coast of
Brazil, and thus proved that even if Columbus had not lived and sailed,
America would have been made known to Europe in the very first year of
the sixteenth century.
Thus it was that, not to speak in detail of the explorations of
navigators of lesser note, the English explorers in the north, and
the Spanish and Portuguese in the south, had, before the end of the
year 1500, given to Europe a definite, though an incorrect, conception
of the magnitude of the new world. There is no evidence that as yet
anybody had supposed the newly discovered lands to be any other than
the eastern borders of Asia and Africa. But it must have been evident
enough to many others, as well as to King Ferdinand, that these new
possessions were too vast and too important to be intrusted to the
governorship of any one man. They appealed alike to ambition, to
avarice, and to jealousy.
The policy adopted was one of delay. Columbus was naturally impatient
to return to the office of which he had been deprived. The court,
however, while treating him with every external consideration, would
not bring itself to give an affirmative answer. Another course was
finally adopted. It was agreed that Bobadilla should be removed, that
another governor, who had had no part in the administrative quarrels,
should be appointed for a term of two years, and that Columbus should
be intrusted with a new exploring expedition.
The person chosen to supersede Bobadilla was Nicholas de Ovando, a
commander of the Order of Alcantara. The picture given of him by Las
Casas is one that might well conciliate the prepossessions of the
reader. According to this high authority, he was gracious in manner,
fluent in speech, had great veneration for justice, was an enemy to
avarice, and had such an aversion to ostentation that when he arose to
be grand commander, he would never allow himself to be addressed by
the title attaching to his office. Yet he was a man of ardent temper,
and so, in the opinion of Las Casas, was incapable of governing the
Indians, upon whom he inflicted incalculable injury.
Before Ovando was ready to sail, there was considerable delay. It had
been decided to give him command, not only of Hispaniola, but also of
the other islands and of the mainland. The fleet was to be the largest
yet sent to the western world. When at length it was ready, it mustered
thirty sail, and had on board about twenty-five hundred souls.
That the new governor might appear with becoming dignity, he was
allowed an unusual amount of ostentation. A sumptuous attire of silk
brocades and precious stones was prescribed, and he was permitted a
body-guard of seventy-two yeomen.
Las Casas accompanied this expedition, and consequently we have
the great advantage of his own personal observations. He tells
us that a great crowd of adventurers thronged the fleet,--“eager
speculators, credulous dreamers, and broken-down gentlemen of desperate
fortunes,--all expecting to enrich themselves with little effort.”
But it is evident also that there was another class on which greater
hopes might reasonably be placed. In the original accounts, significant
attention is called to the fact that among those who formed the
expedition there were seventy-three married men with their families,
all of respectable character. Among those enumerated we notice, not
only a chief-justice to replace Roldan, but a physician, a surgeon,
and an apothecary,--in short, persons of all ranks that seemed to be
necessary for the supply and the development of the island.
That the sovereigns were not unmindful of the rights of Columbus, was
evinced by the provisions made for the protection of his interests.
Ovando was ordered to examine into all the accounts, for the purpose
of ascertaining the amount of the damages Columbus had suffered. All
the property belonging to the Admiral that had been confiscated by
Bobadilla was to be restored, and the same care was to be taken of the
interests of the Admiral’s brothers. Not only were the arrears of the
revenues to be paid, but they were also to be secured for the future.
To this end Columbus was permitted to have an agent present at the
smelting and the working of the gold, in order that his own rights
might be duly protected.
But notwithstanding these evidences of royal favour, the Admiral was
much depressed in spirit. In the course of the long months during
which he was condemned to wait for the final action of the sovereigns,
he had much time for reflection; and it is not singular that his
thoughts turned to his long-neglected scheme for the rescue of the
Holy Sepulchre. From the years of his early manhood, the desirability
of such an act had held possession of his soul. It was characteristic
of his immoderate ardour that he even recorded a vow that within seven
years from the time of the discovery he would furnish fifty thousand
foot soldiers and four thousand horse for the accomplishment of this
purpose. The time had elapsed, and the vow remained unfulfilled. It had
not, however, passed out of his remembrance; and he now appealed to the
monarchs to take the matter up as a national enterprise. The war with
Granada had come to a victorious end; the Duke of Medina Sidonia had
given new lustre to the Spanish name in Italy; the Spanish armies were
now at leisure; Ferdinand and Isabella were firm supporters of the
Church: and what could be more appropriate than that they should now
prove their superior devotion and power by the vigorous presecution of
an enterprise that had baffled the efforts of united Christendom for
more than two centuries? The visionary element in the mind of Columbus
was never more plainly revealed.
These dreamy speculations and importunities, however, were only
temporary in their nature. The mind of the explorer soon reverted to
more practical affairs. It was spurred on in this direction and in that
by the successes of Portuguese explorers in the East. Vasco da Gama had
shown that navigation beyond the Cape of Good Hope was practicable, and
Pedro Cabral had not only gone as far as the marts of Hindostan, but
had returned with ships laden with precious commodities of infinite
variety. The discoveries in the West had thus far brought no return;
and yet, according to every theory that Columbus had entertained, the
islands he had discovered were only the border-land--only the fringe,
so to speak--of that vast Eastern region that was flaming with Oriental
gold. There must be a passage from the west that opened into the Indian
Sea. The coast of Paria stretched on toward the west, the southern
coast of Cuba extended in the same direction, and the currents of the
Caribbean Sea seemed to indicate that at some point still farther west
there was a strait that connected the waters of the Atlantic and the
Indian Ocean. To discover such a passage was an ambition worthy even
of the lofty spirits of Columbus. He believed that somewhere west or
southwest of the lands he had discovered such a strait would be found;
and it was to find such a passage that he resolved to undertake a
fourth voyage.
Columbus appears to have remained at Granada with the court from
December of 1499 until late in the year 1501. He then repaired to
Seville, where he was able within a few months to fit out an exploring
squadron of four ships. The insignificant size of vessels of those days
may be inferred from the fact that, according to Fernando, the largest
of the ships was of seventy tons’ burden, and the smallest of fifty.
The crew consisted of one hundred and fifty men and boys, among whom
were the Admiral’s brother, Don Bartholomew, and his son Fernando, the
historian.
There were long and unaccountable delays, and the fleet did not sail
from Cadiz before the 9th of May, 1502. Stopping for further supplies
at St. Catherine’s and Arzilla, as well as at the Grand Canary and
Martinique, it was not until the 25th that the westward voyage for the
Indies was fairly begun. The first design was to go directly to the
coast of Paria; but although the voyage was an unusually smooth one,
Columbus, declaring one of the vessels to be unseaworthy, or at least
to be in great need of repairs, decided to make for St. Domingo in
order to effect an exchange of vessels. This port was safely reached
before the end of June; but the object of his coming was destined to be
speedily frustrated.
To avoid the consequences of a surprise, Columbus had taken the
precaution to send one of his captains with despatches to inform Ovando
of his approach and the nature of his errand. Besides referring to the
condition of one of the ships, he begged the privilege of temporary
shelter for his fleet. Columbus himself, in his letter, says nothing of
any motive, excepting his desire to purchase a vessel to take the place
of the one that had become disabled; but Fernando attributes to him
the additional purpose of securing shelter from a violent storm which
he saw to be impending. According to his son’s doubtful authority, the
Admiral even ventured to advise that the departure of the fleet about
to sail for Spain, with the treasures that Bobadilla had collected,
should be delayed until the coming storm was past. Columbus himself,
however, never made any such claim. But no part of the message was
of any avail. It was evident that the new commander, Ovando, who had
now been several months in power, was not free from ill-will toward
the Admiral. Las Casas is of the opinion that he had received secret
instructions from the sovereigns not to admit the Admiral to the
island. It seems certain that at that time San Domingo abounded with
enemies of Columbus, and the decision may have been reached simply by
considerations of prudence. The hospitality of the harbour was refused,
and the outgoing fleet of eighteen sail was not detained.
Denied the privilege of the harbour, Columbus drew his little fleet up
under the shelter of the island. On the last day of June a terrible
hurricane broke upon them. The vessels were torn from their moorings,
and driven apart into the wide sea. Each of the ships lost sight of
the others, and each supposed that all the others were lost. The fury
of the winds and waves continued throughout many days and nights; and
such was the raging tumult of the elements that it seemed impossible
for a single vessel to escape. By what was considered a miraculous
interposition of Providence, however, all the ships of Columbus
out-rode the storm. The fact that the “unseaworthy” vessel survived
with the others, gives colour to the suspicion that the claim of
unseaworthiness was only a pretence for the purpose of getting access
to the port. The vessel which the Admiral commanded was driven as
far as Jamaica; and if we may believe the sweeping and unqualified
language of the Admiral, “during sixty days there was no cessation
of the tempest, which was one continuation of rain, thunder, and
lightning.” In this same connection Columbus writes to the sovereigns:
“Eighty-eight days did this fearful tempest continue, during which I
was at sea, and saw neither sun nor stars. My ships lay exposed, with
sails torn; and anchors, cables, rigging, boats, and a great quantity
of provisions were lost. My people were very weak and humbled in
spirit, many of them promising to lead a religious life, and all making
vows and promising to perform pilgrimages, while some of them would
frequently go to their messmates to make confession. Other tempests
have been experienced, but never of so long a duration or so fearful as
this.”
But if the Admiral was finally successful in bringing the shattered
remains of his fleet together, it was not until the 12th of September
that they reached the place of safety and promise to which the
commander gave the name Gracios à Dios. It was far otherwise with the
larger squadron. The commander, after refusing to heed the predictions
of the Admiral, had just set out for Spain. On board were Bobadilla
and Roldan, as well as the others that had taken a prominent part
in accusing Columbus, and securing his arrest and imprisonment. The
vessels were also laden with so much gold and other articles of value
as a relentless avarice and cruelty could bring together to justify the
administration. The details of the disaster have not been preserved.
All that we know is that of the eighteen vessels only four escaped
complete destruction. Every important personage on board the fleet
was lost. Of the four less unfortunate ships, three were in such a
shattered condition that they were obliged to return to San Domingo,
while only one, “The Needle,” was able to make its way to Spain. To the
unquestioning religious faith of the time, the proof of providential
direction was made complete by the singular fact that the gold on board
“The Needle,” the poorest vessel of the fleet, was the portion that
belonged to Columbus. Las Casas regards the event as a signal example
of those awful judgments with which Providence sometimes overwhelms
those who have incurred divine displeasure.
For a knowledge of the explorations of Columbus during the fourth
voyage we are indebted to a very elaborate letter of the Admiral
himself, and to the accounts by Fernando, Las Casas, and Porras, all of
whom were, at the time, either with the Admiral or at San Domingo. The
accounts do not agree in all particulars, but essentially they are not
unlike. As to the general course of the expedition, and the reasons for
the course taken, there is substantial agreement.
At the end of the succession of storms in the autumn of 1502 Columbus
found himself among the islands south of Cuba. The way was now open for
the prosecution of the design which had led to the organization of the
expedition. He was in search of an open passage. His idea, of course,
could not have been very clearly defined; for he still believed that
the islands he had already visited were only the remote edge of the
Asiatic continent. As yet he had no reason for definite belief as to
whether Cuba was an island or was a part of the mainland; though, as
we have already seen, he had once required his crew to swear on their
return that it was the mainland, under penalty of having their tongues
wrenched out in case of disobedience. As his purpose now was avowedly
that of an explorer pure and simple, it would seem that three ways
were clearly open to him. He had already in his second voyage made
himself sufficiently familiar with eastern Cuba to know that whether
an island or a part of the mainland, it was a vast projection into the
east; and he must have inferred that its relations with the regions
beyond could most easily and naturally be ascertained by sailing in a
westerly direction, either along the northern or along the southern
coast. The other course open to him was a bold push for new regions by
sailing into the open sea to the southwest. The obvious disadvantage
of this course was the fact that whatever might be discovered, the
relations of the new regions to those already explored would still
be involved in mystery. Whether Cuba were an island or a part of the
continent, could not in this way be determined. In the way of promised
advantages, moreover, this direction would seem to have held out
no greater inducements than either of the others. If he had sailed
along the northern coast of Cuba, he would have determined the fact
of its insularity, and then would have been free to explore farther
for the mainland. But the more promising course was on the other side
of the island; for in this way the source of the currents, on which
the navigator placed so much reliance, could have been traced,--or at
least it could have been determined whether the phenomenal flow of
waters originated, as Columbus supposed, in an open strait. The least
promising course of all was the abandonment of Cuba and the striking
out of an independent course to the southwest; for when land should
be reached, there could be no determination whether the new coast had
any connection with the land already discovered, and it would still
be undetermined whether the strait for which he was searching, if it
existed at all, lay to the east or to the west of the new landfall. But
this least promising course was the one Columbus determined to take. It
was a great blunder, for which no good reason has ever been given.
Sailing in a southwesterly direction, the storms still continuing, he
at length approached the mainland at a small island which he called the
Isle of Pines. He then turned to the east, and in a few days reached
the coast of Honduras. After waiting for a short time to trade with
the natives, he kept on his way in the same general direction, in the
face of a stormy current and violent winds. It was not until the 14th
of September that they rounded the cape which in thankfulness to God he
named Cape Gracios à Dios. At this point the current divided, a part
flowing west, and a part south. Taking advantage of the latter, they
proceeded down the Mosquito coast without difficulty. On the 25th of
September they came to an inviting spot which he called the “Garden.”
The natives seemed more intelligent than any Columbus had yet seen. In
order that he might have a supply of interpreters, the Admiral seized
seven of them, two of whom he retained by force even when, October 5,
he sailed away. This forcible detention was greatly resented by the
tribe, but the prayers of the emissaries sent for their release had no
effect.
Pushing still farther south and east, the Spaniards came in about ten
days to Caribaro Bay. The natives, who wore gold plates as ornaments,
were defiant, and expressed their unwelcoming mood by blasts upon
conch-shells and the brandishing of spears. The Spanish lombards,
however, soon brought them to a more submissive spirit. A little
farther along, the vessels came to Varagua, a territory lying just
west of the Isthmus of Darien. Here the Admiral heard glowing accounts
of gold not far away. His interpreters told him that ten days inland
the natives revelled in the precious metals and all other valuable
commodities. Had he listened and obeyed, he would have discovered the
Pacific. But, for once, he turned a deaf ear to the allurement, and
so lost his opportunity. That the natives hinted at the great waters
beyond the isthmus, is plain from the words of Columbus. He says: “They
say that the sea surrounds Cuguare, and that ten days’ journey from
thence is the river Ganges.”
His farther voyage south brought no important results. The ships were
worm-eaten, and the crew were clamorous for the gold of Varagua. On the
5th of December Columbus decided reluctantly to retrace his course.
By one of those singular adversities of fortune, the winds which had
hitherto blown strongly from the east now veered and blew as strongly
from the west. Gale after gale followed. Columbus called it the “Coast
of Contrasts.” The situation of the navigators became all the more
desperate through the horrors of impending famine. Worms had made their
bread revolting, and the crew were driven to catch sharks for food.
For weeks the violence of the storms continued. In attempting to make
their way back, a full month was taken up by the Spaniards in passing a
hundred miles. The whole winter was consumed without important results.
At Varagua earnest hopes were entertained that the long-sought, but
ever-elusive gold-fields were at length to be found. Columbus says
that he saw more indications of gold in two days than he had seen in
Hispaniola in four years; he therefore decided upon a settlement, and
began to build houses. Eighty members of the crew were to be left to
establish a permanent footing.
But misfortune succeeded misfortune. The natives began to organize for
the purpose of making such a settlement impossible. In one of their
conflicts the cacique, known as the Quibian, was taken prisoner by the
Adelantado. He was intrusted to the care of a Spanish officer, who
imprudently yielded to the chief’s persuasions to remove his shackles.
The consequence was that in an unguarded moment the cacique sprang
over the side of the boat and dived to the bottom. The night was dark,
and as he came to the surface he was not detected. Columbus believed
him drowned; but it soon appeared that he had reached the shore and
organized so formidable an opposition to the settlement as to place the
colony in extreme peril.
Provisions and ammunition now began to run short. The Admiral was
tortured with gout, and this was followed by a fever. While affairs
were in this condition a portion of the prisoners threw open a
hatchway, and, thrusting the guards aside, plunged into the sea and
escaped. Those who had failed to get away were thrust back into the
hold; but in the morning it was found that they had all committed
suicide by hanging. The resolute spirit thus shown was a sad foreboding
of disaster. The sea was so rough that for days there could be no
communication between the Admiral on ship and the Adelantado on shore.
When at length a brave swimmer succeeded in reaching the land, he found
a portion of Bartholomew’s force in revolt. The mutineers formed a
plan to desert the commander and effect an escape to the ships. There
was nothing to do but to rescue the colony, if possible, and abandon
the coast.
When affairs appeared to be in a most hopeless condition, the tempest
abated, and fair weather came on. One of the caravels, however, had
been stranded and wrecked. In order to bring off the stores and the
colony, a raft was constructed, and after long effort the survivors
were rescued and taken aboard the remaining vessels. One of these,
however, proved to be so much worm-eaten and otherwise disabled that it
had to be abandoned. Taking the scanty stores into the two remaining
caravels, the adventurers now turned their prows toward Hispaniola.
The course of the vessels, however, in order to meet the strong
westerly currents, was eastward. The crew were thrown into
consternation by the thought that the Admiral, notwithstanding the
unseaworthy condition of the ships, was making for Spain. But Columbus
had no such purpose. His design was to zigzag his course in such a
manner that none of the crew could find the way back to the gold coast.
He says that he remembered how a former crew had returned to the
pearl-fisheries of Paria; and he now wrote: “None of them can explain
whither I went, nor whence I came. They do not know the way to return
thither.”
Having accomplished his bewildering purpose, the Admiral now turned to
the northwest. Falling into the currents, the vessels floated beyond
Hispaniola; and on the 30th of May they found themselves in the group
of islands which Columbus had already called “The Gardens.” That his
old delusion was still kept up, is evident from his declaration that he
“had come to Mango, which is near Cathay.”
Here again a succession of storms came on and threatened to shatter the
crazy hulks to pieces. Columbus tried to find shelter in the lee of one
of the islands; but he lost all his anchors save one, and the crews
were able to keep the ships afloat only by “three pumps, and the use
of their pots and kettles.” Evidently this condition of affairs could
not long continue. On the 23d of June he reached Jamaica, and a little
later he saw no other course than to run both of his ships aground.
The first he ran ashore on the 23d of July; and on the 12th of August
he brought the other alongside, and managed to lash them together. The
tide soon filled them with water. He built cabins on the forecastles,
in which the crew could live until they could find relief.
The navigators’ scanty supply of food was ruined, and their first
thought, therefore, was to barter for supplies with the natives.
Fortunately, they were successful. Diego Mendez, the commander of one
of the vessels, took the matter in hand, and making the circuit of the
island in company with three other Spaniards, bargained advantageously
with several of the caciques.
The next thought of the Admiral was to send to Ovando for a rescuing
vessel. He proposed to Mendez that he should go in an open boat, as
the only possible means of establishing a connection with San Domingo.
Mendez offered to go in case no one else would volunteer. The others
all held back. He then fitted up a row-boat, and taking one other
Spaniard and six natives as oarsmen, committed himself to a voyage of
nearly two hundred miles in those tempestuous waters.
To Mendez, Columbus committed a long letter addressed to the monarchs
of Spain,--the very letter, no doubt, to which we are indebted for much
of our knowledge of this disastrous voyage. It bears date July 7, 1503,
and may well be regarded as the unmistakable evidence of a distracted,
if not of an unbalanced, mind.
Though the writer had much to say of the voyage, the most prominent
characteristic of the writing was its rambling and incoherent
references to the troubles of his earlier years. It was a veritable
appeal _ad misericordiam_, and was full of inaccuracies, not to say
positive misstatements. He says,--
“I was twenty-eight years old when I came into your Highnesses’
services, and now I have not a hair upon me that is not gray, my
body is infirm, and all that was left to me, as well as to my
brother, has been taken away and sold, even to the frock that I
wore, to my great dishonour. Solitary in my trouble, sick, and
in daily expectation of death, I am surrounded by millions of
hostile savages full of cruelty. Weep for me whoever has charity,
truth, and justice.”
Surely this is not the outpouring of a great soul. On the contrary,
it is simply pitiful; for it is impossible to forget that in earlier
years he had described these “millions of hostile savages” as the
embodiment of hospitable kindness. It was not until the innocent
natives had learned by bitter experience that there was no device
of avarice or cruelty or licentiousness of which they were not made
the victims that their unsuspecting hospitality was turned into a
prudent hostility. If Columbus was only twenty-eight when he entered
the service of the Spanish monarchs, he must have been born in 1456;
he must have been only eighteen when he had the correspondence with
Toscanelli; and at the time of his writing, he must have been only
forty-seven. Recurring to geographical affairs, he writes: “The world
is but small; out of seven divisions of it, the dry part occupies six,
and the seventh is entirely covered with water. I say that the world
is not so large as vulgar opinion makes it.” Referring to his search
for gold, he exclaims: “Gold is the most precious of all commodities;
gold constitutes treasure; and he who possesses it has all the needs
of this world, as also the means of rescuing souls from Purgatory and
introducing them to the enjoyments of Paradise.”
After the departure of Mendez the long months of autumn and winter
wore on. Columbus during much of the time was confined to his bed by
illness. Discontents, and finally insubordination, became rife. The
malcontents put themselves under the leadership of Francisco de Porras,
a daring navigator, who at one time had commanded one of the vessels.
On the 2d of January, 1504, Porras appeared in the cabin of the sick
Admiral. An unfortunate altercation ensued, which resulted in dividing
the little band into two hostile camps. The outcome was that Porras
and forty-one others threw themselves into active rebellion. They took
forcible possession of ten canoes, and committed themselves to the
sea with the mad purpose of going to San Domingo. A short experience,
however, was enough to drive them back, and they now devoted themselves
actively to getting supplies from the natives of Jamaica. This of
course interfered greatly with the comforts of Columbus and his little
band. Indeed it might have proved fatal but for one of those ingenious
expedients of which the mind of the Admiral was so prolific.
An eclipse of the moon was to take place on the night of February 29,
1504. Columbus caused it to be widely circulated among the natives that
the God of the Spaniards was greatly displeased with their lack of
loyalty, and was about to manifest his displeasure by an obscuration of
the moon. As the eclipse came on, the words of the Admiral appeared to
be verified. The natives were convulsed with fear. He now declared that
the divine anger would be appeased if they would show proper contrition
and would furnish the needed supplies. The caciques threw themselves at
his feet, and promised everything he might need. Just before the moon
was to emerge from the shadow, he assured them that the divine wrath
was placated, and that a sign would soon be manifested. As the eclipse
passed off, the astonishment and satisfaction of the poor wretches were
complete. From that time Columbus had no lack of sufficient supplies.
The expedition of Mendez was not without the most trying vicissitudes.
Almost immediately after starting, the little bark encountered so heavy
a sea that it was obliged to turn back. A few days later, however,
another boat was ready, and Mendez committed himself a second time
to this daring enterprise. Rough weather was encountered, and for
a considerable period it seemed that all would be lost. One of the
natives died, and his body was cast into the sea. But at length, in
four days after leaving the eastern point of Jamaica, the Spaniards
reached the port of Novissa, at the western end of Hispaniola. Mendez
soon found that Ovando, instead of being at San Domingo, was engaged
in suppressing a revolt in the western province of Zaroyna. Though
Ovando was not so ungracious as to meet the question with a point-blank
refusal, he showed no disposition to render prompt assistance. Thus
it was that, in spite of all the urgency of Mendez, month after month
passed away without action. It was only after there had come to be
considerable popular clamour in favour of Columbus that Ovando saw the
expediency of sending the necessary succour. It is more than probable
that he would have been relieved to find that the rescuing ship had
arrived too late. It was not until the 25th of June, 1504, that the
Admiral and his little crew of wretched followers were gladdened by the
sight of approaching relief. It is easy to understand how Columbus,
a little later, could say that in no part of his life did he ever
experience so joyful a day; for he had never hoped to leave the place
alive. More than a year had passed in the tormenting experiences that
followed the shipwreck on the northern coast of Jamaica.
Ovando extended to Columbus a gracious show of hospitality by making
him a guest in his own household. But there was no real cordiality. It
was not long, indeed, before an active dispute arose over an important
question of jurisdiction. Ovando demanded the surrender of Porras, that
he might be duly punished for his insurrection. Columbus held that
however complete the jurisdiction of the governor might be over the
island of Hispaniola, it did not extend to the crew of the Admiral.
Ovando, though he did not formally yield the point, thought it not
prudent to press the claim. There were also important differences in
regard to the pecuniary rights of Columbus, whose agent had already
become involved in serious difficulties. From all these untoward
circumstances it became apparent that the stay of Columbus could
not be advantageously prolonged. Accordingly, with such money as he
could collect, he fitted out two vessels for a homeward voyage. He
had arrived at San Domingo on the 15th of August. On the 12th of the
following month the two vessels were ready for sea. Storm succeeded
storm, however, and the ship of the Admiral had to be sent back for
repairs. After a very tempestuous voyage, Columbus, with his brother
and son, entered the port of San Lucar on the 7th of November, 1504.