THE THIRD VOYAGE-(continued)
It may perhaps be wearisome to the reader to return to the tangled and
depressing situation in Espanola, but it cannot be half so wearisome as
it was for Columbus, whom we left enveloped in that dark cloud of error
and surrender in which he sacrificed his dignity and good faith to the
impudent demands of a mutinous servant. To his other troubles in San
Domingo the presence of this Roldan was now added; and the reinstated
Alcalde was not long in making use of the victory he had gained. He bore
himself with intolerable arrogance and insolence, discharging one of
Columbus's personal bodyguard on the ground that no one should hold any
office on the island except with his consent. He demanded grants of land
for himself and his followers, which Columbus held himself obliged to
concede; and the Admiral, further to pacify him, invented a very
disastrous system of repartimientos, under which certain chiefs were
relieved from paying tribute on condition of furnishing feudal service to
the settlers--a system which rapidly developed into the most cruel and
oppressive kind of slavery. The Admiral at this time also, in despair of
keeping things quiet by his old methods of peace and conciliation,
created a kind of police force which roamed about the island, exacting
tribute and meting out summary punishment to all defaulters. Among other
concessions weakly made to Roldan at this time was the gift of the Crown
estate of Esperanza, situated in the Vega Real, whither he betook himself
and embarked on what was nothing more nor less than a despotic reign,
entirely ignoring the regulations and prerogatives of the Admiral, and
taking prisoners and administering punishment just as he pleased. The
Admiral was helpless, and thought of going back to Spain, but the
condition of the island was such that he did not dare to leave it.
Instead, he wrote a long letter to the Sovereigns, full of complaints
against other people and justifications of himself, in the course of
which he set forth those quibbling excuses for his capitulation to Roldan
which we have already heard. And there was a pathetic request at the end
of the letter that his son Diego might be sent out to him. As I have
said, Columbus was by this time a prematurely old man, and feeling the
clouds gathering about him, and the loneliness and friendlessness of his
position at Espanola, he instinctively looked to the next generation for
help, and to the presence of his own son for sympathy and comfort.
It was at this moment (September 5, 1499) that a diversion arose in the
rumour that four caravels had been seen off the western end of Espanola
and duly reported to the Admiral; and this announcement was soon followed
by the news that they were commanded by Ojeda, who was collecting
dye-wood in the island forests. Columbus, although he had so far as we
know had no previous difficulties with Ojeda, had little cause now to
credit any adventurer with kindness towards himself; and Ojeda's secrecy
in not reporting himself at San Domingo, and, in fact, his presence on
the island at all without the knowledge of the Admiral, were sufficient
evidence that he was there to serve his own ends. Some gleam of
Christopher's old cleverness in handling men was--now shown by his
instructing Roldan to sally forth and bring Ojeda to order. It was a
case of setting a thief to catch a thief and, as it turned out, was not
a bad stroke. Roldan, nothing loth, sailed round to that part of the
coast where Ojeda's ships were anchored, and asked to see his licence;
which was duly shown to him and rather took the wind out of his sails.
He heard a little gossip from Ojeda, moreover, which had its own
significance for him. The Queen was ill; Columbus was in disgrace;
there was talk of superseding him. Ojeda promised to sail round to San
Domingo and report himself; but instead, he sailed to the east along the
coast of Xaragua, where he got into communication with some discontented
Spanish settlers and concocted a scheme for leading them to San Domingo
to demand redress for their imagined grievances. Roldan, however, who
had come to look for Ojeda, discovered him at this point; and there
ensued some very pretty play between the two rascals, chiefly in
trickery and treachery, such as capturing each other's boats and
emissaries, laying traps for one another, and taking prisoner one
another's crews. The end of it was that Ojeda left the island without
having reported himself to Columbus, but not before he had completed his
business--which was that of provisioning his ships and collecting
dye-wood and slaves.
And so exit Ojeda from the Columbian drama. Of his own drama only one
more act remained to be played; which, for the sake of our past interest
in him, we will mention here. Chiefly on account of his intimacy with
Fonseca he was some years later given a governorship in the neighbourhood
of the Gulf of Darien; Juan de la Cosa accompanying him as unofficial
partner. Ojeda has no sooner landed there than he is fighting the
natives; natives too many for him this time; Ojeda forced to hide in the
forest, where he finds the body of de la Cosa, who has come by a shocking
death. Ojeda afterwards tries to govern his colony, but is no good at
that; cannot govern his own temper, poor fellow. Quarrels with his crew,
is put in irons, carried to Espanola, and dies there (1515) in great
poverty and eclipse. One of the many, evidently, who need a strong
guiding hand, and perish without it.
It really began to seem as though Roldan, having had his fling and
secured the excessive privileges that he coveted, had decided that
loyalty to Christopher was for the present the most profitable policy;
but the mutinous spirit that he had cultivated in his followers for his
own ends could not be so readily converted into this cheap loyalty. More
trouble was yet to come of this rebellion. There was in the island a
young Spanish aristocrat, Fernando de Guevara by name, one of the many
who had come out in the hope of enjoying himself and making a fortune
quickly, whose more than outrageously dissolute life in San Domingo had
caused Columbus to banish him thence; and he was now living near Xaragua
with a cousin of his, Adrian de Moxeca, who had been one of the
ringleaders in Roldan's conspiracy. Within this pleasant province of
Xaragua lived, as we have seen, Anacaona, the sister of Caonabo, the Lord
of the House of Gold. She herself was a beautiful woman, called by her
subjects Bloom of the Gold; and she had a still more beautiful daughter,
Higuamota, who appears in history, like so many other women, on account
of her charms and what came of them.
Of pretty Higuamota, who once lived like a dryad among the groves of
Espanola and has been dead now for so long, we know nothing except that
she was beautiful, which, although she doubtless did not think so while
she lived, turns out to have been the most important thing about her.
Young Guevara, coming to stay with his cousin Adrian, becomes a visitor
at the house of Anacaona; sees the pretty daughter and falls in love with
her. Other people also, it appears, have been in a similar state, but
Higuamota is not very accessible; a fact which of course adds to the
interest of the chase, and turns dissolute Fernando's idle preference
into something like a passion. Roldan, who has also had an eye upon her,
and apparently no more than an eye, discovers that Fernando, in order to
gratify his passion, is proposing to go the absurd length of marrying the
young woman, and has sent for a priest for that purpose. Roldan,
instigated thereto by primitive forces, thinks it would be impolitic for
a Spanish grandee to marry with a heathen; very well, then, Fernando will
have her baptized--nothing simpler when water and a priest are handy.
Roldan, seeing that the young man is serious, becomes peremptory, and
orders him to leave Xaragua. Fernando ostentatiously departs, but is
discovered a little later actually living in the house of Anacaona, who
apparently is sympathetic to Love's young dream. Once more ordered away,
this time with anger and threats, Guevara changes his tune and implores
Roldan to let him stay, promising that he will give up the marriage
project and also, no doubt, the no-marriage project. But Guevara has
sympathisers. The mutineers have not forgiven Roldan for deserting them
and becoming a lawful instead of an unlawful ruler. They are all on the
side of Guevara, who accordingly moves to the next stage of island
procedure, and sets on foot some kind of plot to kill Roldan and the
Admiral. Fortunately where there is treachery it generally works both
ways; this plot came to the ears of the authorities; the conspirators
were arrested and sent to San Domingo.
This action came near to bringing the whole island about Columbus's ears.
Adrian de Moxeca was furious at what he conceived to be the treachery of
Roldan, for Roldan was in such a pass that the barest act of duty was
necessarily one of treachery to his friends. Moxeca took the place of
chief rebel that Roldan had vacated; rallied the mutineers round him, and
was on the point of starting for Concepcion, one of the chain of forts
across the island where Columbus was at present staying, when the Admiral
discovered his plan. All that was strongest and bravest in him rose up
at this menace. His weakness and cowardice were forgotten; and with the
spirit of an old sea-lion he sallied forth against the mutineers. He had
only a dozen men on whom he could rely, but he armed them well and
marched secretly and swiftly under cloud of night to the place where
Moxeca and his followers were encamped in fond security, and there
suddenly fell upon them, capturing Moxeca and the chief ringleaders. The
rest scattered in terror and escaped. Moxeca was hurried off to the
battlements of San Domingo and there, in the very midst of a longdrawn
trembling confession to the priest in attendance, was swung off the
ramparts and hanged. The others, although also condemned to death, were
kept in irons in the fortress, while Christopher and Bartholomew, roused
at last to vigorous action, scoured the island hunting down the
remainder, killing some who resisted, hanging others on the spot, and
imprisoning the remainder at San Domingo.
After these prompt measures peace reigned for a time in the island, and
Columbus was perhaps surprised to see what wholesome effects could be
produced by a little exemplary severity. The natives, who under the
weakness of his former rule had been discontented and troublesome, now
settled down submissively to their yoke; the Spaniards began to work in
earnest on their farms; and there descended upon island affairs a brief
St. Martin's Summer of peace before the final winter of blight and death
set in. The Admiral, however, was obviously in precarious health; his
ophthalmia became worse, and the stability of his mind suffered. He had
dreams and visions of divine help and comfort, much needed by him, poor
soul, in all his tribulations and adversities. Even yet the cup was not
full.
We must now turn back to Spain and try to form some idea of the way in
which the doings of Columbus were being regarded there if we are to
understand the extraordinary calamity that was soon to befall him. It
must be remembered first of all that his enterprise had never really been
popular from the first. It was carried out entirely by the energy and
confidence of Queen Isabella, who almost alone of those in power believed
in it as a thing which was certain to bring ultimate glory, as well as
riches and dominion, to Spain and the Catholic faith. As we have seen,
there had been a brief ebullition of popular favour when Columbus
returned from his first voyage, but it was a popularity excited solely by
the promises of great wealth that Columbus was continually holding forth.
When those promises were not immediately fulfilled popular favour
subsided; and when the adventurers who had gone out to the new islands on
the strength of those promises had returned with shattered health and
empty pockets there was less chance than ever of the matter being
regarded in its proper light by the people of Spain. Columbus had either
found a gold mine or he had found nothing--that was the way in which the
matter was popularly regarded. Those who really understood the
significance of his discoveries and appreciated their scientific
importance did not merely stay at home in Spain and raise a clamour; they
went out in the Admiral's footsteps and continued the work that he had
begun. Even King Ferdinand, for all his cleverness, had never understood
the real lines on which the colony should have been developed. His eyes
were fixed upon Europe; he saw in the discoveries of Columbus a means
rather than an end; and looked to them simply as a source of revenue with
the help of which he could carry on his ambitious schemes. And when, as
other captains made voyages confirming and extending the work of
Columbus, he did begin to understand the significance of what had been
done, he realised too late that the Admiral had been given powers far in
excess of what was prudent or sensible.
During all the time that Columbus and his brothers were struggling with
the impossible situation at Espanola there was but one influence at work
in Spain, and that was entirely destructive to the Admiral. Every
caravel that came from the New World brought two things. It brought a
crowd of discontented colonists, many of whom had grave reasons for their
discontent; and it brought letters from the Admiral in which more and
more promises were held out, but in which also querulous complaints
against this and that person, and against the Spanish settlers generally,
were set forth at wearisome length. It is not remarkable that the people
of Spain, even those who were well disposed towards Columbus, began to
wonder if these two things were not cause and effect. The settlers may
have been a poor lot, but they were the material with which Columbus had
to deal; he had powers enough, Heaven knew, powers of life and death; and
the problem began to resolve itself in the minds of those at the head of
affairs in Spain in the following terms. Given an island, rich and
luxuriant beyond the dreams of man; given a native population easily
subdued; given settlers of one kind or another; and given a Viceroy with
unlimited powers--could he or could he not govern the island? It was a
by no means unfair way of putting the case, and there is little justice
in the wild abuse that has been hurled at Ferdinand and Isabella on this
ground. Columbus may have been the greatest genius in the world; very
possibly they admitted it; but in the meanwhile Spain was resounding with
the cries of the impoverished colonists who had returned from his ocean
Paradise. No doubt the Sovereigns ignored them as much as they possibly
could; but when it came to ragged emaciated beggars coming in batches of
fifty at a time and sitting in the very courts of the Alhambra,
exhibiting bunches of grapes and saying that that was all they could
afford to live upon since they had come back from the New World, some
notice had to be taken of it. Even young Diego and Ferdinand, the
Admiral's sons, came in for the obloquy with which his name was
associated; the colonial vagabonds hung round the portals of the palace
and cried out upon them as they passed so that they began to dislike
going out. Columbus, as we know, had plenty of enemies who had access to
the King and Queen; and never had enemies an easier case to urge. Money
was continually being spent on ships and supplies; where was the return
for it? What about the Ophir of Solomon? What about the Land of Spices?
What about the pearls? And if you want to add a touch of absurdity, what
about the Garden of Eden and the Great Khan?
To the most impartial eyes it began to appear as though Columbus were
either an impostor or a fool. There is no evidence that Ferdinand and
Isabella thought that he was an impostor or that he had wilfully deceived
them; but there is some evidence that they began to have an inkling as to
what kind of a man he really was, and as to his unfitness for governing a
colony. Once more something had to be done. The sending out of a
commissioner had not been a great success before, but in the difficulties
of the situation it seemed the only thing. Still there was a good deal
of hesitation, and it is probable that Isabella was not yet fully
convinced of the necessity for this grave step. This hesitation was
brought to an end by the arrival from Espanola of the ships bearing the
followers of Roldan, who had been sent back under the terms of Columbus's
feeble capitulation. The same ships brought a great quantity of slaves,
which the colonists were able to show had been brought by the permission
of the Admiral; they carried native girls also, many of them pregnant,
many with new-born babies; and these also came with the permission of the
Admiral. The ships further carried the Admiral's letter complaining of
the conspiracy of Roldan and containing the unfortunate request for a
further licence to extend the slave trade. These circumstances were
probably enough to turn the scale of Isabella's opinion against the
Admiral's administration. The presence of the slaves particularly
angered her kind womanly heart. "What right has he to give away my
vassals?" she exclaimed, and ordered that they should all be sent back,
and that in addition all the other slaves who had come home should be
traced and sent back; although of course it was impossible to carry out
this last order.
At any rate there was no longer any hesitation about sending out a
commissioner, and the Sovereigns chose one Francisco de Bobadilla, an
official of the royal household, for the performance of this difficult
mission. As far as we can decipher him he was a very ordinary official
personage; prejudiced, it is possible, against an administration that had
produced such disastrous results and which offended his orderly official
susceptibilities; otherwise to be regarded as a man exactly honest in the
performance of what he conceived to be his duties, and entirely
indisposed to allow sentiment or any other extraneous matter to interfere
with such due performance. We shall have need to remember, when we see
him at work in Espanola, that he was not sent out to judge between
Columbus and his Sovereigns or between Columbus and the world, but to
investigate the condition of the colony and to take what action he
thought necessary. The commission which he bore to the Admiral was in
the following terms:
"The King and the Queen: Don Christopher Columbus, our Admiral of
the Ocean-sea. We have directed Francisco de Bobadilla, the bearer
of this, to speak to you for us of certain things which he will
mention: we request you to give him faith and credence and to obey
him. From Madrid, May 26, '99. I THE KING. I THE QUEEN. By their
command. Miguel Perez de Almazan."
In addition Bobadilla bore with him papers and authorities giving him
complete control and possession of all the forts, arms, and royal
property in the island, in case it should be necessary for him to use
them; and he also had a number of blank warrants which were signed, but
the substance of which was not filled in. This may seem very dreadful to
us, with our friendship for the poor Admiral; but considering the grave
state of affairs as represented to the King and Queen, who had their
duties to their colonial subjects as well as to Columbus, there was
nothing excessive in it. If they were to send out a commissioner at all,
and if they were satisfied, as presumably they were, that the man they
had chosen was trustworthy, it was only right to make his authority
absolute. Thus equipped Francisco de Bobadilla sailed from Spain in July
1500.
End of Project Gutenberg's Christopher Columbus, Volume 6, by Filson Young