HE IS COMMISSIONED, AND SETS SAIL.
[Æt. 56; 1492]
On the 12th of May, 1492, Columbus left Santa Fé for Palos, the seaport
from which his expedition was to sail. He left his small-boy, Diego,
behind him, as page to Prince Juan, the heir of Castile and Aragon.
Diego was the son of his lawful wife, and it is pleasant to find that,
in spite of this fact, Columbus still remembered him. His favorite son
was of course Fernando, who, with his mother, Beatrix, seems to have
been sent away to board in the country during Columbus’s absence at sea.
As soon as he arrived at Palos, Columbus called on his worthy friend
the Prior, and on the next day the two went to the church of St.
George, where the royal order directing the authorities of Palos to
supply Columbus with two armed ships, and calling upon everybody to
furnish the expedition with all necessary aid, was read aloud by a
notary-public. The authorities, as well as the other inhabitants of
Palos, were naturally only too glad to do everything in their power
to hasten the departure of Columbus; but it was found extremely
difficult to procure ships or sailors for the expedition. The merchants
very justly said that, much as they might desire to have Columbus
drowned, they did not care to furnish ships at their own expense for
an enterprise in the interest of all classes of the community. The
sailors declared that they were ready to ship for any voyage which
might be mentioned, but that it was a little too much to ask them to
go to sea with Columbus as their captain, since he would undoubtedly
use his authority to compel them to listen to a daily lecture on “Other
Continents than Ours,” thus rendering their situation far worse than
that of ordinary slaves.
The King and Queen, learning of the failure of Columbus to obtain
ships and men, and fearing that he might return to court, ordered the
authorities of Palos to seize eligible vessels by force, and to kidnap
enough sailors to man them. This would probably have provided Columbus
with ships and men, had not the short-sighted monarch appointed one
Juan de Peñalosa to see that the order was executed, and promised him
two hundred maravedies a day until the expedition should be ready. De
Peñalosa was perhaps not the intellectual equal of the average American
office-holder, but he had sense enough to appreciate his situation,
and of course made up his mind that it would take him all the rest of
his natural life to see that order carried out. Accordingly, he drew
his pay with great vigor and faithfulness, but could not find any
ships which, in his opinion, were fit to take part in the proposed
expedition. The people soon perceived the state of affairs, and
despaired of ever witnessing the departure of Columbus.
Doubtless De Peñalosa would have gone on for years failing to find
the necessary ships, had not two noble mariners resolved to sacrifice
themselves on the altar of their country. Martin Alonzo Pinzon and
Vincente Yanez Pinzon, his brother, were the two marine patriots in
question. They offered a ship and crew, and the magistrates, emulating
their patriotism, seized two other ships and ordered them to be fitted
for service.
These vessels were under one hundred tons’ burthen each, and only one
of them, the _Santa Maria_, was decked over. In model they resembled
the boats carved by small inland boys, and their rig would have brought
tears to the eyes of a modern sailor--provided, of course, a way of
bringing a modern sailor to Palos to inspect them could have been
devised. If we can put any faith in woodcuts, the _Santa Maria_ and
her consorts were two-masted vessels carrying one or two large square
sails on each mast, and remotely resembling dismasted brigs rigged with
jury-masts by some passengers from Indiana who had studied rigging
and seamanship in Sunday-school books. The pretence that those vessels
could ever beat to windward cannot be accepted for a moment. They must
have been about as fast and weatherly as a St. Lawrence “pin flat,”
and in point of safety and comfort they were even inferior to a Staten
Island ferry-boat.
The _Pinta_ was commanded by Martin Pinzon, and the _Niña_ by Vincente
Pinzon. No less than four pilots were taken, though how four pilots
could have been equally divided among three ships without subjecting at
least one pilot to a subdivision that would have seriously impaired his
efficiency, can not readily be comprehended. Indeed, no one has ever
satisfactorily explained why Columbus wanted pilots, when he intended
to navigate utterly unknown seas. It has been suggested that he had
bound himself not to talk to an intemperate extent to his officers or
men, and that he laid in a supply of private pilots purely for the
purpose of talking to them. It is much more probable that a law of
compulsory pilotage existed at that time in Spain,--for it was a dark
and ignorant age,--and that, inasmuch as Columbus would have had to
pay the pilots whether he took them with him or not, he thought he
might as well accept their services. Besides, he may have remembered
that a vessel rarely runs aground unless she is in charge of a pilot,
and hence he may have imagined that pilots possessed a peculiar skill
in discovering unexpected shores at unlooked-for moments, and might
materially help him in discovering a new continent by running the fleet
aground on its coast.
A royal notary was also sent with the expedition, so that if any one
should suddenly desire to swear or affirm, as the case might be, it
could be done legally. The three vessels carried ninety sailors, and
the entire expeditionary force consisted of one hundred and twenty men.
The ship-carpenters and stevedores, doubtless at the instigation of
Peñalosa, made all the delay they possibly could, and at the last
moment a large number of sailors deserted. Other sailors were procured,
and finally everything was in readiness for the departure of the
fleet. On Friday the 3d of August, 1492, Columbus and his officers and
men confessed themselves and received the sacrament, after which the
expedition put to sea.
In spite of the knowledge that Columbus was actually leaving Spain with
a very slight prospect of ever returning, the departure of the ships
cast a gloom over Palos. The people felt that to sacrifice one hundred
and nineteen lives, with three valuable vessels, was a heavy price to
pay, even for permanently ridding Spain of the devastating talker.
Still, we are not told that they permitted sentiment to overpower their
patriotism, and they were probably sustained by the reflection that
it was better that one hundred and nineteen other people should be
drowned, than that they themselves should be talked to death.
It is universally agreed that it is impossible not to admire the
courage displayed by Columbus and his associates. The ships of the
expedition were small and unseaworthy. They were not supplied with
ice-houses, hot water, electric bells, saloons amidships where the
motion is least perceptible, smoking and bath rooms, or any of the
various other devices by which the safety of modern steamships is
secured. The crew knew that they were bound to an unknown port, and
that if their vessels managed to reach it there was no certainty that
they would find any rum. Columbus had employed eighteen years in
convincing himself that if he once set sail he would ultimately arrive
somewhere; but now that he was finally afloat, his faith must have
wavered somewhat. As he was an excellent sailor, he could not but have
felt uncomfortable when he remembered that he had set sail on Friday.
However, he professed to be in the very best of spirits, and no one can
deny that he was as brave as he was tedious.
On the third day out, the _Pinta_ unshipped her rudder, and soon
after began to leak badly. Her commander made shift partially to
repair the disaster to the rudder, but Columbus determined to put into
the Canaries, and charter another vessel in her place. He knew that
he was then not far from the Canaries, although the pilots, either
because their minds were already weakening under the strain of their
commander’s conversation, or because they were ready to contradict him
at every possible opportunity, insisted that the islands were a long
way off. Columbus was right, and on the 9th of August they reached the
Canaries, where we may suppose the pilots were permitted to go ashore
and obtain a little rest.
For three weeks Columbus waited in hopes of finding an available ship,
but he was disappointed. The _Pinta_ was therefore repaired to some
extent, and the _Niña_ was provided with a new set of sails. A report
here reached Columbus that three Portuguese men-of-war were on their
way to capture him--doubtless on the charge of having compassed
the death of several Portuguese subjects with violent and prolonged
conversation. He therefore set sail at once, and as he passed the
volcano, which was then in a state of eruption, the crews were so much
alarmed that they were on the point of mutiny. Columbus, however, made
them a speech on the origin, nature, and probable object of volcanoes,
which soon reduced them to the most abject state of exhaustion.
Nothing was seen of the Portuguese men-of-war, and it has been supposed
that some practical joker alarmed the Admiral by filling his mind with
visions of hostile ships, when the only Portuguese men-of-war in that
part of the Atlantic were the harmless little jelly-fish popularly
known by that imposing title.
It was the 6th day of September when the expedition left the Canaries,
but owing to a prolonged calm it was not until the 9th that the last of
the islands was lost sight of. We can imagine what the devoted pilots
must have suffered during those three days in which Columbus had
nothing to do but talk; but they were hardy men, and they survived it.
They remarked to one another that they could die but once; that care
had once killed a vague and legendary cat; and in various other ways
tried to reconcile themselves to their fate.
The crew on losing sight of land became, so we are told, utterly cast
down, as they reflected upon the uncertainty of ever again seeing
a Christian grog-shop, or joining with fair ladies in the cheerful
fandango. Mr. Irving says that “rugged seamen shed tears, and some
broke into loud lamentation,” and that Columbus thereupon made them a
long speech in order to reconcile them to their lot. The probability
is that Mr. Irving reversed the order of these two events. If Columbus
made a long speech to his crew, as he very likely did, there is no
doubt that they shed tears, and lamented loudly.
Lest the crew should be alarmed at the distance they were rapidly
putting between themselves and the spirituous liquors of Spain,
Columbus now adopted the plan of daily falsifying his reckoning. Thus
if the fleet had sailed one hundred miles in any given twenty-four
hours, he would announce that the distance sailed was only sixty
miles. Meanwhile he kept a private log-book, in which he set down the
true courses and distances sailed. This system may have answered its
purpose, but had the fleet been wrecked, and had the false and the true
log-books both fallen into the hands of the underwriters, Columbus
would not have recovered a dollar of insurance, and would probably
have been indicted for forgery with attempt to lie. The lawyer for
the insurance company would have put in evidence the two entries for,
let us say, the 10th of September; the one reading, “Wind E.S.E.,
light and variable; course W. by N.; distance by observation since
noon yesterday, 61 miles;” and the other, or true entry, reading,
“Wind E.S.E.; course W. by N.; distance by observation since noon
yesterday, 117 miles. At seven bells in the morning watch, furled
main-top-gallant sails, and put a single reef in all three topsails.
This day ends with a strong easterly gale.” With such evidence as this,
he would easily have proved that Columbus was a desperate villain, who
had wrecked his vessels solely to swindle the insurance companies.
Thus we see that dishonesty will vitiate the best policy, provided the
underwriters can prove it.
It was perhaps this same desire to lead his crew into the belief that
the voyage would not be very long, which led Columbus to insert in the
sailing directions given to the two Pinzons an order to heave-to every
night as soon as they should have sailed seven hundred leagues west
of the Canaries. He explained that unless this precaution were taken
they would be liable to run foul of China in the night, in case the
latter should not happen to have lights properly displayed. This was
very thoughtful, but there is no reason to think that it deceived the
Pinzons. They knew perfectly well that Columbus had not the least idea
of the distance across the Atlantic, and they probably made remarks
to one another in regard to the difficulty of catching old birds with
chaff, which the Admiral would not have enjoyed had he heard them.
Thus cheerfully cheating his sailors, and conversing with his pilots,
Columbus entered upon his voyage. A great many meritorious emotions
are ascribed to him by his biographers, and perhaps he felt several of
them. We have, however, no evidence on this point, and the probability
is that he would not have expressed any feeling but confidence in his
success to any person. He had long wanted to sail in quest of new
continents, and his wish was now gratified. He ought to have been
contented, and it is quite possible that he was.