persistent and enthusiastic adventurer demanded, doubtless with the
feeling that there was not more than one chance in a hundred that he
would ever be heard from again, but that this one chance was well worth
all and more than they expended,--a possibility of indefinite
aggrandizement. To the eyes of Ferdinand there was a prospect--remote,
indeed--of adding to the power of the Spanish monarchy; and it is
probable that the pious Isabella contemplated also the conversion of the
heathen to Christianity. It is possible that some motives may have also
influenced Columbus kindred to this,--a renewed crusade against Saracen
infidels, which he might undertake from the wealth he was so confident
of securing. But the probabilities are that Columbus was urged on to his
career by ambitious and worldly motives chiefly, or else he would not
have been so greedy to secure honors and wealth, nor would have been so
jealous of his dignity when he had attained power. To me Columbus was no
more a saint than Sir Francis Drake was when he so unscrupulously robbed
every ship he could lay his hands upon, although both of them observed
the outward forms of religious worship peculiar to their respective
creeds and education. There were no unbelievers in that age. Both
Catholics and Protestants, like the ancient Pharisees, were scrupulous
in what were supposed to be religious duties,--though these too often
were divorced from morality. It is Columbus only as an intrepid,
enthusiastic, enlightened navigator, in pursuit of a new world of
boundless wealth, that I can see him; and it was for his ultimate
success in discovering this world, amid so many difficulties, that he is
to be regarded as a great benefactor, of the glory of which no ingenuity
or malice can rob him.
At last he sets sail, August 3, 1492, and, singularly enough, from
Palos, within sight of the little convent where he had received his
first encouragement. He embarked in three small vessels, the largest of
which was less than one hundred tons, and two without decks, but having
high poops and sterns inclosed. What an insignificant flotilla for such
a voyage! But it would seem that the Admiral, with great sagacity,
deemed small vessels best adapted to his purpose, in order to enter
safely shallow harbors and sail near the coast.
He sails in the most propitious season of the year, and is aided by
steady trade-winds which waft his ships gently through the unknown
ocean. He meets with no obstacles of any account. The skies are serene,
the sea is as smooth as the waters of an inland lake; and he is
comforted, as he advances to the west, by the appearance of strange
birds and weeds and plants that indicate nearness to the land. He has
only two objects of solicitude,--the variations of the magnetic needle,
and the superstitious fears of his men; the last he succeeds in allaying
by inventing plausible theories, and by concealing the real distance he
has traversed. He encourages them by inflaming their cupidity. He is
nearly baffled by their mutinous spirit. He is in danger, not from coral
reefs and whirlpools and sunken rocks and tempests, as at first was
feared, but from his men themselves, who clamor to return. It is his
faith and moral courage and fertility of resources which we most admire.
Days pass in alternate hope and disappointment, amid angry clamors, in
great anxiety, for no land appears after he has sailed far beyond the
points where he expected to find it. The world is larger than even he
has supposed. He promises great rewards to the one who shall first see
the unknown shores. It is said that he himself was the first to discover
land by observing a flickering light, which is exceedingly improbable,
as he was several leagues from shore; but certain it is, that the very
night the land was seen from the Admiral's vessel, it was also
discovered by one of the seamen on board another ship. The problem of
the age was at last solved. A new continent was given to Ferdinand
and Isabella.
On the 12th of October Columbus lands--not, however, on the continent,
as he supposed, but on an island--in great pomp, as admiral of the seas
and viceroy of the king, in a purple doublet, and with a drawn sword in
one hand and the standard of Spain in the other, followed by officers in
appropriate costume, and a friar bearing the emblem of our redemption,
which is solemnly planted on the shore, and the land called San
Salvador. This little island, one of the Bahamas, is not, however,
gilded with the anticipated splendors of Oriental countries. He finds
neither gold, nor jewels, nor silks, nor spices, nor any signs of
civilization; only naked men and women, without any indication of wealth
or culture or power. But he finds a soft and genial climate, and a soil
of unparalleled fertility, and trees and shrubs as green as Andalusia in
spring, and birds with every variety of plumage, and insects glistening
with every color of the rainbow; while the natives are gentle and
unsuspecting and full of worship. Columbus is disappointed, but not
discouraged. He sets sail to find the real Cipango of which he is in
search. He cruises among the Bahama islands, discovers Cuba and
Hispaniola (now called Hayti), explores their coasts, holds peaceful
intercourse with the natives, and is transported with enthusiasm in view
of the beauty of the country and its great capacities; but he sees no
gold, only a few ornaments to show that there is gold somewhere near, if
it only could be found. Nor has he reached the Cipango of his dreams,
but new countries, of which there was no record or suspicion of
existence, yet of vast extent, and fertile beyond knowledge. He is
puzzled, but filled with intoxicating joy. He has performed a great
feat. He has doubtless added indefinitely to the dominion of Spain.
Columbus leaves a small colony on the island of Hispaniola, and with the
trophies of his discoveries returns to Spain, without serious obstacles,
except a short detention in Portugal, whither he was driven by a storm.
His stories fill the whole civilized world with wonder. He is welcomed
with the most cordial and enthusiastic reception; the people gaze at him
with admiration. His sovereigns rise at his approach, and seat him
beside themselves on their gilded and canopied throne; he has made them
a present worthy of a god. What honors could be too great for such a
man! Even envy pales before the universal exhilaration. He enters into
the most august circles as an equal; his dignities and honors are
confirmed; he is loaded with presents and favors; he is the most marked
personage in Europe; he is almost stifled with the incense of royal and
popular idolatry. Never was a subject more honored and caressed. The
imagination of a chivalrous and lively people is inflamed with the
wildest expectations, for although he returned with but little of the
expected wealth, he has pointed out a land rich in unfathomed mines.
A second and larger expedition is soon projected. Everybody wishes to
join it. All press to join the fortunate admiral who has added a
continent to civilization. The proudest nobles, with the armor and
horses of chivalry, embark with artisans and miners for another voyage,
now without solicitude or fear, but with unbounded hopes of
wealth,--especially hardy adventurers and broken-down families of rank
anxious to retrieve their fortunes. The pendulum of a nation's thought
swings from the extreme of doubt and cynicism to the opposite extreme of
faith and exhilaration. Spain was ripe for the harvest. Eight hundred
years' desperate contest with the Moors had made the nation bold,
heroic, adventurous. There were no such warriors in all Europe. Nowhere
were there such chivalric virtues. No people were then animated with
such martial enthusiasm, such unfettered imagination, such heroic
daring, as were the subjects of Ferdinand and Isabella. They were a
people to conquer a world; not merely heroic and enterprising, but fresh
with religious enthusiasm. They had expelled the infidels from Spain;
they would fight for the honor of the Cross in any clime or land.
The hopes held out by Columbus were extravagant; and these extravagant
expectations were the occasion of his fall and subsequent sorrows and
humiliation. Doubtless he was sincere, but he was infatuated. He could
only see the gold of Cipango. He was as confident of enriching his
followers as he had been of discovering new realms. He was as
enthusiastic as Sir Walter Raleigh a century later, and made promises as
rash as he, and created the same exalted hopes, to be followed by bitter
disappointments; and consequently he incurred the same hostilities and
met the same downfall.
This second expedition was undertaken in seventeen vessels, carrying
fifteen hundred people, all full of animation and hope, and some of them
with intentions to settle in the newly discovered country until they had
made their fortunes. They arrived at Hispaniola in March, of the year
1493, only to discover that the men left behind on the first voyage to
secure their settlement were all despoiled or murdered; that the
natives had proved treacherous, or that the Spaniards had abused their
confidence and forfeited their friendship. They were exposed to new
hostilities: they found the climate unhealthy; their numbers rapidly
dwindled away from disease or poor food; starvation stared them in the
face, in spite of the fertility of the soil; dissensions and jealousies
arose; they were governed with great difficulty, for the haughty
hidalgoes were unused to menial labor, and labor of the most irksome
kind was necessary; law and order were relaxed. The blame of disaster
was laid upon the Admiral, who was accused of deceiving them; evil
reports were sent to Spain, accusing him of incapacity, cruelty, and
oppression; gold was found only in small quantities; some of the leading
men mutinied; general discontent arose; the greater part of the
colonists were disabled from sickness and debility; no gold of any
amount was sent back to Spain, only five hundred Indian slaves to be
sold instead, which led to renewed hostilities with the natives, and the
necessity for their subjugation. All of these evils created bitter
disappointment in Spain and discontent with the measures and government
of Columbus himself, so that a commission of inquiry was sent to
Hispaniola, headed by Aguado, who assumed arrogant authority, and made
it necessary for Columbus to return to Spain without adding essentially
to his discoveries. He sailed around Cuba and Jamaica and other
islands, but as yet had not seen the mainland or found mines of gold
or silver.
He landed in Spain, in 1496, to find that his popularity had declined
and the old enthusiasm had grown cold. With him landed a feeble train of
emaciated men, who had nothing to relate but sickness, hardship, and
disappointment. The sovereigns, however, received him kindly; but he was
depressed and sad, and clothed himself with the habit of a Franciscan
friar, to denote his humility and dejection. He displayed a few golden
collars and bracelets as trophies, with some Indians; but these no
longer dazzled the crowd.
It was not until 1498 that Columbus was enabled to make his third
voyage, having experienced great delay from the general disappointment.
Instead of seventeen vessels, he could collect but six. In this voyage
he reached the mainland,--that part called Paria, near the mouth of the
Orinoco, in South America, but he supposed it to be an island. It was
fruitful and populous, and the air was sweetened with the perfumes of
flowers. Yet he did not explore the coast to any extent, but made his
way to Hispaniola, where he had left the discontented colony, himself
broken in health, a victim of gout, haggard from anxiety, and emaciated
by pain. His splendid constitution was now undermined from his various
hardships and cares.
He found the colony in a worse state than when he left it under the
care of his brother Bartholomew. The Indians had proved hostile; the
colonists were lazy and turbulent; mutiny had broken out; factions
prevailed, as well as general misery and discontent. The horrors of
famine had succeeded wars with the natives. There was a general desire
to leave the settlement. Columbus tried to restore order and confidence;
but the difficulty of governing such a disorderly set of adventurers was
too great even for him. He was obliged to resort to severities that made
him more and more unpopular. The complaints of his enemies reached
Spain. He was most cruelly misrepresented and slandered; and in the
general disappointment, and the constant drain upon the mother country
to support the colony, his enemies gained the ear of his sovereigns, and
strong doubts arose in their minds about his capacity for government. So
a royal commission was sent out,--an officer named Bovadilla, with
absolute power to examine into the state of the colony, and supplant, if
necessary, the authority of Columbus. The result was the arrest of
Columbus and his brothers, who were sent to Spain in chains. What a
change of fortune! I will not detail the accusations against him, just
or unjust. It is mournful enough to see the old man brought home in
irons from the world he had discovered and given to Spain. The injustice
and cruelty which he received produced a reaction, and he was once more
kindly received at court, with the promise that his grievances should
be redressed and his property and dignities restored.
Columbus was allowed to make one more voyage of discovery, but nothing
came of it except renewed troubles, hardships, dangers, and
difficulties; wars with the natives, perils of the sea, discontents,
disappointments; and when at last he returned to Spain, in 1504,--broken
with age and infirmities, after twelve years of harassing cares, labors,
and dangers (a checkered career of glory and suffering),--nothing
remained but to prepare for his final rest. He had not made a fortune;
he had not enriched his patrons,--but he had discovered a continent. His
last days were spent in disquieting and fruitless negotiations to
perpetuate his honors among his descendants. He was ever jealous and
tenacious of his dignities. Ferdinand was polite, but selfish and cold;
nor can this calculating prince ever be vindicated from the stain of
gross ingratitude. Columbus died in the year 1506, at the age of sixty,
a disappointed man. But honors were ultimately bestowed upon his heirs,
who became grandees and dukes, and intermarried with the proudest
families of Spain; and it is also said that Ferdinand himself, after the
death of the great navigator, caused a monument to be erected to his
memory with this inscription: "To Castile and Leon Columbus gave a new
world." But no man of that century needed less than Columbus a monument
to perpetuate his immortal fame.
I think that historians belittle Columbus when they would excite our
pity for his misfortunes. They insult the dignity of all struggling
souls, and make utilitarians of all benefactors, and give false views of
success. Few benefactors, on the whole, were ever more richly rewarded
than he. He died Admiral of the Seas, a grandee of Spain,--having
bishops for his eulogists and princes for his mourners,--the founder of
an illustrious house, whose name and memory gave glory even to the
Spanish throne. And even if he had not been rewarded with material
gains, it was enough to feel that he had conferred a benefit on the
world which could scarcely be appreciated in his lifetime,--a benefit so
transcendent that its results could be seen only by future generations.
Who could adequately pay him for his services; who could estimate the
value of his gift? What though they load him to-day with honors, or cast
him tomorrow into chains?--that is the fate of all immortal benefactors
since our world began. His great soul should have soared beyond vulgar
rewards. In the loftiness of his self-consciousness he should have
accepted, without a murmur, whatever fortune awaited him. Had he merely
given to civilization a new style of buttons, or an improved envelope,
or a punch for a railway conductor, or a spring for a carriage, or a
mining tool, or a screw, or revolver, or reaper, the inventors of which
have "seen millions in them," and been cheated out of his gains, he
might have whimpered over his wrongs. How few benefactors have received
even as much as he; for he won dignities, admiration, and undying fame.
We scarcely know the names of many who have made grand bequests. Who
invented the mariner's compass? Who gave the lyre to primeval ages, or
the blacksmith's forge, or the letters of the alphabet, or the arch in
architecture, or glass for windows? Who solved the first problem of
geometry? Who first sang the odes which Homer incorporated with the
Iliad? Who first turned up the earth with a plough? Who first used the
weaver's shuttle? Who devised the cathedrals of the Middle Ages? Who
gave the keel to ships? Who was the first that raised bread by yeast?
Who invented chimneys? But all ages will know that Columbus discovered
America; and his monuments are in every land, and his greatness is
painted by the ablest historians.
But I will not enlarge on the rewards Columbus received, or the
ingratitude which succeeded them, by force of envy or from the
disappointment of worldly men in not realizing all the gold that he
promised. Let me allude to the results of his discovery.
The first we notice was the marvellous stimulus to maritime adventures.
Europe was inflamed with a desire to extend geographical knowledge, or
add new countries to the realms of European sovereigns.
Within four years of the discovery of the West India Islands by
Columbus, Cabot had sailed past Newfoundland, and Vasco da Gama had
doubled the Cape of Good Hope, and laid the foundation of the Portuguese
empire in the East Indies. In 1499 Ojeda, one of the companions of
Columbus, and Amerigo Vespucci discovered Brazil. In 1500 Cortereal, a
Portuguese, explored the Gulf of St. Lawrence. In 1505 Francesco de
Almeira established factories along the coast of Malabar. In 1510 the
Spaniards formed settlements on the mainland at Panama. In 1511 the
Portuguese established themselves at Malacca. In 1513 Balboa crossed the
Isthmus of Darien and reached the Pacific Ocean. The year after that,
Ponce de Leon had visited Florida. In 1515 the Rio de la Plata was
navigated; and in 1517 the Portuguese had begun to trade with China and
Bengal. As early as 1520 Cortes had taken Mexico, and completed the
conquest of that rich country the following year. In 1522 Cano
circumnavigated the globe. In 1524 Pizarro discovered Peru, which in
less than twelve years was completely subjugated,--the year when
California was discovered by Cortes. In 1542 the Portuguese were
admitted to trade with Japan. In 1576 Frobisher sought a North-western
passage to India; and the following year Sir Francis Drake commenced
his more famous voyages under the auspices of Elizabeth. In 1578 Sir
Humphrey Gilbert colonized Virginia, followed rapidly by other English
settlements, until before the century closed the whole continent was
colonized either by Spaniards, or Portuguese, or English, or French, or
Dutch. All countries came in to share the prizes held out by the
discovery of the New World.
Colonization followed the voyages of discovery. It was animated by the
hope of finding gold and precious stones. It was carried on under great
discouragements and hardships and unforeseen difficulties. As a general
thing, the colonists were not accustomed to manual labor; they were
adventurers and broken-down dependents on great families, who found
restraint irksome and the drudgeries of their new life almost
unendurable. Nor did they intend, at the outset, permanent settlements;
they expected to accumulate gold and silver, and then return to their
country. They had sought to improve their condition, and their condition
became forlorn. They were exposed to sickness from malaria, poor food,
and hardship; they were molested by the natives whom they constantly
provoked; they were subject to cruel treatment on the part of royal
governors. They melted away wherever they settled, by famine, disease,
and war, whether in South or North America. They were discontented and
disappointed, and not easily governed; the chieftains quarrelled with
each other, and were disgraced by rapacity and cruelty. They did not
find what they expected. They were lonely and desolate, and longed to
return to the homes they had left, but were frequently without means to
return,--doomed to remain where they were, and die. Colonization had no
dignity until men went to the New World for religious liberty, or to
work upon the soil. The conquest of Mexico and Peru, however, opened up
the mining of gold and silver, which were finally found in great
abundance. And when the richness of these countries in the precious
metals was finally established, then a regular stream of emigrants
flocked to the American shores. Gold was at last found, but not until
thousands had miserably perished.
The mines of Mexico and Peru undoubtedly enriched Spain, and filled
Europe with envy and emulation. A stream of gold flowed to the mother
country, and the caravels which transported the treasures of the new
world became objects of plunder to all nations hostile to Spain. The
seas were full of pirates. Sir Francis Drake was an undoubted pirate,
and returned, after his long voyage around the world, with immense
treasure, which he had stolen. Then followed, with the eager search
after gold and silver, a rapid demoralization in all maritime countries.
It would be interesting to show how the sudden accumulation of wealth
by Spain led to luxury, arrogance, and idleness, followed by degeneracy
and decay, since those virtues on which the strength of man is based are
weakened by sudden wealth. Industry declined in proportion as Spain
became enriched by the precious metals. But this inquiry is foreign to
my object.
A still more interesting inquiry arises, how far the nations of Europe
were really enriched by the rapid accumulation of gold and silver. The
search for the precious metals may have stimulated commercial
enterprise, but it is not so clear that it added to the substantial
wealth of Europe, except so far as it promoted industry. Gold is not
wealth; it is simply the exponent of wealth. Real wealth is in farms and
shops and ships,--in the various channels of industry, in the results of
human labor. So far as the precious metals enter into useful
manufactures, or into articles of beauty and taste, they are indeed
inherently valuable. Mirrors, plate, jewelry, watches, gilded furniture,
the adornments of the person, in an important sense, constitute wealth,
since all nations value them, and will pay for them as they do for corn
or oil. So far as they are connected with art, they are valuable in the
same sense as statues and pictures, on which labor has been expended.
There is something useful, and even necessary, besides food and raiment
and houses. The gold which ornamented Solomon's temple, or the Minerva
of Phidias, or the garments of Leo X., had a value. The ring which is a
present to brides is a part of a marriage ceremony. The golden watch,
which never tarnishes, is more valuable inherently than a pewter one,
because it remains beautiful. Thus when gold enters into ornaments
deemed indispensable, or into manufactures which are needed, it has an
inherent value,--it is wealth.