HIS THIRD EXPEDITION.
[Æt. 62; 1498]
The perseverance of Columbus triumphed over all obstacles. The
expedition was finally ready, and on the 30th of May, 1498, the Admiral
went on board the flag-ship and, after remarking “All ashore that’s
goin’!” and “All aboard!” rang the final bell and started once more for
the New World. Just as he was about to embark, one Breviesca, a clerk
in the Indian Agents’ Bureau, met him on the wharf and told Columbus
that he would never return.
“What, never?” exclaimed the astonished Admiral.
“Well, hardly ever,” replied the miscreant.
Of course Columbus instantly knocked him down, and went on board
his vessel in a just but tremendous rage. He wrote to the Queen,
informing her of the affair, and sincerely regretting that he had lost
his temper. Long afterwards his enemies were accustomed to refer to
the brutal way in which he had attacked an estimable and inoffensive
gentleman, as a proof of his ungovernable temper, his Italian fondness
for revenge, and his general unfitness for any post of responsibility.
The fleet steered first for Madeira, and then for the Canary Islands,
touching at both places; and at the latter surprising--as historians
assure us--a French privateer with two Spanish prizes. What there
was about Columbus or his fleet that was so surprising, has, of
course, been left to our imagination, in accordance with the habit of
historians to omit mentioning details of real interest. The Frenchman
was attacked by the Spaniards, but managed to escape together with one
of his prizes. The other prize was retaken by the Spanish prisoners on
board of her, and given up to Columbus, who turned the vessel over to
the local authorities.
From the Canaries the fleet sailed to the Cape Verde Islands, where the
Admiral divided his forces. Three ships he sent direct to Hispaniola,
and with the other three he steered in a south-westerly direction, to
make new discoveries. He soon discovered the hottest region in which he
had ever yet been--the great champion belt of equatorial calms. There
was not a breath of wind, and the very seams of the ships opened with
the intense heat. It was evident to the sailors that they must be very
close to the region where, according to the scientific persons of the
period, the sea was perpetually boiling, and they began to fear that
they would be roasted before the boiling process could begin. Luckily,
a gentle breeze finally sprung up, and Columbus, abandoning the rash
attempt to sail farther south, steered directly west, and soon passed
into a comforting, cool, and pleasant climate.
On the 31st of July he discovered the island of Trinidad, and in view
of the fact that his ships were leaky, his water almost gone, and his
body alternately shaken by fever and twisted by gout, it was high time
that land should have been found.
The following day the flag-ship was suddenly attacked by a canoe full
of fierce natives, who threw spears and other unpleasant things at
the Spaniards, and fought with great bravery. Columbus, determined to
strike terror into the enemy, ordered his musicians to assemble on deck
and play familiar airs--probably from “Pinafore.” The result surpassed
his most sanguine expectations. The unhappy natives fled in wild dismay
as soon as the music began, and yelled with anguish when the first
cornet blew a staccato note, and the man with the bass trombone played
half a tone flat. When we remember that the good Queen Isabella had
particularly ordered Columbus to treat the natives kindly, we must
earnestly hope that this cruel incident never came to her presumably
pretty ears.
The fleet was now off the south shore of Trinidad, and the mainland
was in plain sight farther west. Columbus at first supposed that
the mainland was only another island, and after taking in water he
sailed west, with the intention of sailing beyond it. Passing through
the narrow strait between Trinidad and the continent, he entered the
placid Gulf of Paria, where to his astonishment he found that the
water was fresh. Sailing along the shore, he landed here and there and
made friendly calls on the natives, whom he found to be a pleasant,
light-colored race, with a commendable fondness for exchanging pearls
for bits of broken china and glass beads. No opening could be found
through which to sail farther westward, and Columbus soon came to the
opinion that he had this time reached the continent of Asia.
One thing greatly astonished him. He had been fully convinced that the
nearer he should approach the equator the blacker would be the people
and the hotter the climate. Yet the people of Paria were light-colored,
and the climate was vastly cooler than the scorching regions of the
equatorial calms. Remembering also the remarkable conduct of the stars,
which had materially altered their places since he had left the Cape
Verde Islands, and reflecting upon the unusual force of the currents
which had latterly interfered severely with the progress of the ship,
Columbus proceeded to elaborate a new and attractive geographical
theory. He wrote to Ferdinand and Isabella that, in his opinion, the
world was not exactly round, like a ball or an orange, as he had
hitherto maintained, but that it was shaped like a large yellow pear.
He assumed that the region which he had now reached corresponded to the
long neck of the pear, near the stem, as it appears when the pear is
resting on its larger end. He had consequently sailed up a steep ascent
since leaving Spain, and had by this means reached a cool climate and
found light-colored heathen.
This was a very pretty theory, and one which ought to have satisfied
any reasonable inventor of geographical theories; but Columbus,
warming with his work, proceeded still further to embellish it. He
maintained that the highest point of the earth was situated a short
distance west of the coast of Paria, and that on its apex the Garden
of Eden could be found. He expressed the opinion that the Garden was
substantially in the same condition as when Adam and Eve left it. Of
course a few weeds might have sprung up in the neglected flower-beds,
but Columbus was confident that the original tree of the knowledge of
good and evil, and the conversationally disposed animals, were all
to be found in their accustomed places. As for the angel with the
two-edged sword, who had been doing sentry duty at the gate for several
thousand years, there could be no doubt that should an explorer present
to him a written pass signed by the Pope, the angel would instantly
admit him into the Garden.
Columbus now felt that, whatever failures might seem to characterize
his new exploring expedition, he had forever secured the gratitude
and admiration of the pious Queen. To have almost discovered the
Garden of Eden in a nearly perfect state of repair was certainly more
satisfactory than the discovery of any amount of gold would have been.
Still, he thought it could do no harm to mention in his letter to the
Queen that pearls of enormous value abounded on the coast, and that
the land was fertile, full of excellent trees and desirable fruits,
and populous with parrots of most correct conversational habits, and
monkeys of unusual moral worth and comic genius.
Although Columbus failed to visit the Garden of Eden, either because
he had no pass from the Pope or because he could not spare the time,
it must not be imagined that he did not believe his new and surprising
theory. In those happy days men had a capacity for belief which they
have since totally lost, and Columbus himself was probably capable of
honestly believing even wilder theories than the one which gave to the
earth the shape of a pear and perched the Garden on the top of an
imaginary South American mountain.
As the provisions were getting low, and the Admiral’s fever was getting
high--not to speak of his gout, which manifested a tendency to rise to
his stomach--he resolved to cease exploring for a time, and to sail for
Hispaniola. He arrived there on the 19th of August, after discovering
and naming a quantity of new islands. The currents had drifted him
so far out of his course, that he reached the coast of Hispaniola a
hundred and fifty miles west of Ozima, his port of destination. Sending
an Indian messenger to warn Bartholomew of his approach, he sailed for
Ozima, where he arrived on the 30th of August, looking as worn out and
haggard as if he had been engaged in a prolonged pleasure-trip to the
Fishing Banks.
Don Bartholomew received his brother with the utmost joy, and proceeded
to make him happy by telling him how badly affairs had gone during his
absence. Bartholomew had followed the Admiral’s orders, and had proved
himself a gallant and able commander. He had built a fort and founded
a city at the mouth of the Ozima, which is now known as San Domingo.
Leaving Don Diego Columbus in command of the colony, he had marched
to Xaragua, the western part of the island, and induced the Cacique
Behechio and his sister Anacaona, the widow of Caonabo, to acknowledge
the Spanish rule and to pay tribute. He had also crushed a conspiracy
of the natives, which was due chiefly to the burning of several Indians
at the stake who had committed sacrilege by destroying a chapel. These
were the first Indians who were burnt for religious purposes, and it
is a pity that Father Boyle had not remained in Hispaniola long enough
to witness the ceremony which he had so often vainly urged the Admiral
to permit him to perform. Probably Don Bartholomew was not responsible
for the burning of the savages, for he evidently sympathized with
the revolted natives, and suppressed the conspiracy with hardly any
bloodshed.
[Æt. 62–64; 1498–1500]
The colonists, both old and new, were of course always discontented,
and cordially disliked the two brothers of the Admiral. The chief judge
of the colony, Francisco Roldan, undertook to overthrow the authority
of the Adelentado, and to make himself the ruler of the island. After
much preliminary rioting and strong language Roldan openly rebelled,
and with his followers besieged Don Bartholomew in Fort Concepcion, in
which he had taken refuge, and from which he did not dare to sally,
not feeling any confidence in his men. Roldan was unable to capture
the fort, but he instigated the natives to throw off Bartholomew’s
authority, and convinced them that he, and not the Adelentado, was
their real friend.
The opportune arrival of the two supply ships, which sailed from Spain
while Columbus was fitting out his third expedition, probably saved the
authority and the life of Don Bartholomew. He immediately left the fort
and, going to San Domingo, took command of the newly arrived troops,
and proclaimed Roldan a traitor, which greatly relieved his mind. The
traitor thereupon marched with his men to Xaragua, where they led a
simple and happy life of vice and immorality. The discord among the
Spaniards induced the natives to make another attempt to gain their
liberty, but the Adelentado, in a brilliant campaign, once more reduced
them to subjection. Two native insurrections, a Spanish rebellion, and
unusual discontent were thus the chief features of the pleasant story
with which Columbus was welcomed to Hispaniola.
Before he could take any active measures against Roldan, except to
issue a proclamation expressly confirming Don Bartholomew’s assertion
that he was a traitor, the three ships which he had sent direct to
Hispaniola when he divided his fleet at the Cape Verde Islands, arrived
off the coast of Xaragua, and perceiving Spaniards on the shore,
imagined that they were respectable colonists. Roldan fostered that
delusion until he had obtained arms and supplies, when he admitted
that from the holiest motives he had rebelled against the tyranny of
the Adelentado.
The men of the fleet, learning that Roldan’s followers were a set of
reckless scoundrels, were inclined to think that perhaps transportation
was not such a terrible affair after all, and began to desert with
great alacrity, and to join the rebels. The ships therefore put to sea,
and their commander, on arriving at San Domingo, informed Columbus that
Roldan would probably surrender if it was made an object to him to do
so.
The Admiral was anxious to march on Xaragua, capture Roldan, and make
an example of him; but his unpopularity and that of his brothers was
so great that he did not dare to risk leaving San Domingo, lest it
should rebel as soon as his back was turned. In order to rid himself
of some of the malcontents, he fitted out five vessels, and offered
a free passage to Spain to every one who wished to return. The ships
sailed, carrying letters from both Columbus and Roldan, in which each
described the other in uncomplimentary terms.
Columbus would now have marched against Roldan, but he could not find
more than seventy men who felt well enough to march with him. The rest
said they had headaches, or had sprained their ankles, and really
must be excused. There was nothing left to do but to negotiate with
the rebel leader, and compromise matters. Columbus began by offering
a free pardon to Roldan if he would immediately surrender. Roldan,
in his turn, offered to pardon Columbus if he would agree to certain
conditions. These negotiations were continued for a long time, and
after various failures the Admiral succeeded in obtaining a compromise.
He agreed to reappoint Roldan Chief Judge of the colony; to grant him
a certificate that all the charges which had been made against him
were malicious lies; to give him and his followers back pay, slaves,
and compensation for their property which had been destroyed; to send
back to Spain such of the rebels as might wish to return, and to give
the remainder large grants of land. On these conditions Roldan agreed
to overlook what had passed and to rejoin the colony. This successful
compromise served years afterwards as a model for Northern Americans
when dealing with their dissatisfied brethren, and entitles Columbus to
the honor of being the first great American compromiser.
Having thus settled the dispute, the Admiral wrote to Spain, explaining
that the conditions to which he had agreed had been extorted by force
and were therefore not binding, and that on Roldan’s massive cheek
deserved to be branded the legend _Fraud first triumphant in American
History_. He asked that a commissioner should be sent out to arrest
and punish the rebel chief, and to take the place of Chief Judge now
fraudulently held by Roldan.
There is of course no doubt that Columbus would have hung Roldan with
great pleasure had he been able to do so. He was compelled by force of
circumstances to yield to all the rebel’s demands, but nevertheless
it was hardly fair for him to claim that his acts and promises were
not binding. Still, it should be remembered that he was suffering from
malarial fever, and it is notorious that even the best of men will tell
lies without remorse if they live in a malarious region and have houses
for sale or to let.
The Admiral, having thus restored order, was about to return to Spain
to explain more fully his conduct and that of Don Bartholomew, when
he heard that four ships commanded by Alonzo de Ojeda had arrived at
Xaragua. He immediately suspected that something was wrong, and that in
Ojeda he would have a new and utterly unscrupulous enemy to deal with.
Foreseeing that an emergency was about to occur in which a skilful
scoundrel might be of great assistance to him, he gave Roldan the
command of two ships, and sent him to ascertain what Ojeda intended to
do. The wily Roldan anchored just out of sight of Ojeda’s fleet, while
the latter, with fifteen men only, was on shore. Landing with a strong
force, and placing himself between Ojeda and his ships, he waited for
the latter to meet him and explain matters.
Ojeda soon appeared, and was delighted to see a gentleman of whom he
had heard such favorable reports. He said he was on his way to San
Domingo, and had merely landed for supplies. He had been authorized to
make discoveries by Fonseca, the Secretary of Indian Affairs, and his
expedition had been fitted out with the assistance of Amerigo Vespucci
and other enterprising merchants. He had been cruising in the Gulf of
Paria, and had his ships loaded with slaves. As soon as he could he
intended to visit Columbus, who, he regretted to say, was probably
the most unpopular man in Spain, and would soon be removed from his
command. Roldan returned to San Domingo with this information, and both
he and the Admiral agreed that they did not believe anything that
Ojeda had said.
Meanwhile Ojeda, having met with many of Roldan’s former adherents,
who still lingered in Xaragua, was informed by them that Columbus had
not given them their back pay. Ojeda said that such injustice made
his blood boil, and that if they would join him he would march to San
Domingo and put an end to the base Italian tyrant. The new rebellion
was prevented by the arrival of Roldan with a respectable array of
troops, and Ojeda promptly went on board his flag-ship. Roldan wrote
to him asking for an interview, and reminding him that rebellion was a
crime which every good man ought to abhor. Ojeda, replied that such was
precisely his opinion, and he must refuse to have anything to do with a
man who had lately been a rebel.
Soon afterward Ojeda sailed away in a northerly direction, keeping
near the shore, and Roldan marched along the coast to intercept him
in case he should land. Arriving at a place called by the natives
Cahay, Ojeda sent a boat ashore, which was captured by Roldan, and in
order to regain it he was finally forced to consent to parley with his
antagonist. The result was that Ojeda promised to sail immediately
for Spain. Having made this promise he naturally landed soon after on
another part of the island, but being followed by Roldan he finally
abandoned Hispaniola and sailed for Cadiz with his cargo of slaves.
The Admiral was greatly pleased at this signal illustration of the
wisdom of the proverb about setting a rogue to catch a rogue, and
writing Roldan a complimentary letter, requested him to remain for a
little while in Xaragua.
While Ojeda’s ships were at Xaragua, Columbus had passed sentence of
banishment on Hernando de Guevara, a dissolute young Spaniard, and sent
him to embark on board one of Ojeda’s vessels. He arrived at Xaragua
after the ships had left, and Roldan ordered him to go into banishment
at Cahay. Guevara, however, had fallen in love with an Indian maid, the
daughter of Anacaona, and wanted to remain in Xaragua and marry her.
Roldan would not listen to him, and the unhappy youth went to Cahay,
where he stayed three days and then returned. There was a spirited
quarrel between him and Roldan, and the latter finally yielded and
allowed Guevara to remain.
The grateful young man immediately conspired against Roldan and the
Admiral. He had a cousin, De Mexica, a former associate of Roldan’s in
rebellion, who immediately took up the cause of the exile. De Mexica
soon convinced his ex-rebel friends that the spectacle of Roldan, as
an upright, law-abiding man, was simply revolting, and that he and
Columbus ought to be killed. He had gathered a small force together,
when he and his chief associates were suddenly surprised by the
Admiral, arrested, tried, and hanged before they had time to realize
that anything was the matter.
Don Bartholomew was dispatched to Xaragua to aid Roldan, and the two,
after arresting Guevara, stamped out the new rebellion with remorseless
energy. This time there was no compromise, and a suspicion began to
prevail that rebellion was not so safe and profitable an industry as it
had been hitherto.