HIS FOURTH EXPEDITION.
[Æt. 66; 1502]
On the 9th of May, 1502, Columbus once more sailed from Cadiz. The
passage across the Atlantic was in no way remarkable. The fleet touched
as usual at the Canaries, and on the 15th of June arrived at one of
the smaller Caribbean islands. Columbus had been strictly forbidden
to touch at San Domingo, because it was feared that he would get into
trouble with the local authorities, and would then come back to Spain
to defend himself against false accusations. However, as one of his
ships was unseaworthy, he convinced himself that it was a matter of
necessity and mercy for him to go to San Domingo and obtain a better
vessel.
He arrived in due time at the forbidden port, but Ovando refused
to permit him to land, and ordered him to put to sea immediately.
Columbus then informed Ovando that a hurricane was approaching, and
begged permission to lie at anchor in the shelter of the harbor until
fair weather should appear; but his petition was refused. Ovando said
there was not the least sign of an approaching hurricane, and that he
was a bird far too advanced in years to be caught by the Admiral’s
meteorological chaff.
There was at the time a large fleet of vessels lying in the harbor,
and on the point of sailing for Spain. On board of the fleet were
Roldan, Bobadilla, many discontented colonists, and a large quantity
of gold. Now Columbus, who was learned in weather, was in earnest when
he prophesied a hurricane, and he felt sad in view of the danger which
threatened the gold on board the fleet in case the ships should put to
sea before the hurricane arrived. He warned Ovando not to let the fleet
depart, but Ovando and everybody else laughed to scorn “Old Italian
Probabilities,” and mocked at his areas of barometrical depression and
approaching storm-centres.
Columbus sailed away and sought shelter under the lee of the island,
and the fleet with Bobadilla and the gold put to sea. Two days later
a hurricane that the New York _Herald_ would have been proud to
launch against the shores of Great Britain wrecked the fleet, drowned
Bobadilla and Roldan, and sunk the gold to the bottom of the sea. A few
vessels managed to work their way back to San Domingo, but only one
reached Spain. The fortunate vessel had on board a quantity of gold
belonging to Columbus, and in his opinion this fact was all that saved
her.
The Admiral’s vessels rode out the storm safely, though they were much
damaged, and, after it was over, put into Port Hermoso to refit. Having
patched up the vessels, Columbus set sail for the Panama Canal, and
after a voyage of about six weeks he reached a group of small islands
on the coast of Honduras. Here he met a large canoe filled with the
ablest natives he had yet seen. They had hatchets and other tools made
of copper, and were dressed in cotton garments woven by themselves.
They were probably from Yucatan, for they claimed to belong to a
civilized country situated farther west and possessing magnificent
cities. The Admiral said he was not looking for cities as much as he
had been, that he was on his way to India, and that he had no time to
go to Yucatan. Thus he lost the chance of discovering the curious and
fantastic Maya and Aztec civilization which Cortez afterward found and
destroyed.
There was little in the early part of the Admiral’s voyage along the
Central American coast which deserves especial notice. He coasted
Honduras and Costa Rica, finding an oppressive sameness of savages
and bad weather. The savages were peaceful, but the weather was not.
It rarely condescended to indulge in anything less violent than a
hurricane, and always blew from precisely the direction in which the
Spaniards wished to steer. The Costa Rican savages told Columbus that
the Ganges was a few days’ journey farther west, and that vessels
carrying cannons frequently came to the large city of Ciguari, which
was still nearer than the Ganges.
[Æt. 66; 1503]
This was, on the whole, the most able and satisfactory aboriginal
lie which had yet been told to Columbus, and it made him confident
that he would arrive in India in a few days. Lest the savages should
receive too much credit for inventive genius, it should be mentioned
that they must have been greatly assisted by leading questions put
by the Spaniards, otherwise they could not have hit upon the name of
the Ganges. The mention of the ships armed with cannon which came
to the mythical city of Ciguari was, however, a master-stroke for
which the natives are entitled to full credit. Travellers who have
visited Central America in our day would perhaps find it easier to
understand the habits and customs of the people, were it generally
known that their remote Indian ancestors were likewise men of brilliant
imagination and utter fearlessness of assertion.
Leaving these mendacious but encouraging savages, Columbus came to
Veragua, a country lying farther south and really abounding in gold.
But now that he had finally reached a place where gold was abundant,
the precious metal for which Columbus had searched so long and eagerly
seemed to have lost its charm. He was too anxious to reach the Ganges
to be willing to stop for anything; so, after laying in a few gold
plates, he stood on his southward course.
The ships and the Admiral were by this time greatly in want of repairs.
Columbus was suffering from gout, fever, and old age, while the
ships, in addition to the latter complaint, were leaky and covered
with barnacles. The crews began to grumble loudly, and on the 5th
of December, Columbus having failed to find the Ganges, the city of
Ciguari, or the Panama Ship-Canal, thought it best to yield to the
force of public opinion before it should express itself with handspikes
and knives. He therefore consented to abandon his search and turn
back to Veragua, where he hoped to be able to collect enough gold
to convince Ferdinand and Isabella of his wisdom in postponing his
intended geographical discoveries.
No sooner had the ships turned and stood to the northward, than the
wind, with a vicious display of ill-temper, shifted and became once
more a head-wind. It blew if anything harder from its new quarter than
it had blown before, and it was not until early in January that the
fleet reached Veragua and anchored in the river Belen.
[Æt. 67; 1503]
The sailors were glad to go ashore; for, though there was nothing to
drink, there was gold to be got, and while on shore they were rid of
the task of sailing clumsy and leaking ships. The Admiral, in his
feeble health, was greatly in need of rest, and he was not aware that
he had found precisely the worst locality in the Western Hemisphere
for fever and mosquitoes. The Adelentado was sent with a large force
to explore the surrounding country, from which he returned with the
report that the natives had a great deal of gold in their possession.
Of course the Spanish soldiers merely looked at this gold, and
complimented the natives on their possession of so valuable an article;
we need not suppose they were so wicked as to steal it, and thus
convert the friendly Costa Ricans into enemies.
Being satisfied with the Adelentado’s report, Columbus decided to leave
most of his men to found a colony on the banks of the Belen, while he
should return to Spain for supplies.
The natives had hitherto been peaceable; but when they saw the
Spaniards building houses on their land, they felt that it was time
to take proceedings for dispossession. Columbus received information
that the local cacique, Quibian, was collecting an army to attack the
colony, and he sent Diego Mendez to investigate the matter.
Quibian’s village was on the river Veragua, not far from the Belen, and
Mendez soon found his way thither. He was told that the cacique was
confined to his house with a wounded leg. Mendez immediately said that
he was a doctor, and would repair the leg; but Quibian’s son said, Oh
no, he rather thought Mendez would not repair that particular leg just
then. As the savage followed up this remark by hitting Mendez over the
head, the latter admitted that perhaps he was mistaken, and hurriedly
remembered that he had an engagement which would require his immediate
return to the colony.
There was now no doubt that Quibian intended to fight, and the
Adelentado, remarking that a cacique in the hand was better than
several in the bush, proposed to go in person and capture Quibian.
Taking seventy-four men with him, Don Bartholomew managed to obtain an
interview with the cacique, whom he instantly seized and bound. The
natives offered no resistance, and the Adelentado, gathering up the
wives and children of Quibian, prepared to return.
The cacique was laid in the bottom of a boat, and pretended to suffer
so much pain that the officer in charge of the boat loosened his bonds.
Quibian thereupon jumped overboard and, as it was now night, escaped
safely to land; while the Spaniards believed that he had been drowned.
The danger of an attack by the savages being thus, in the opinion of
the Admiral, at an end, he prepared to depart for Spain. The water
on the bar at the mouth of the river was so low that the ships could
not pass over it without being lightened. Their stores were therefore
disembarked, and after getting into deep water the ships were anchored
and the stores were brought back to them in boats.
When the fleet was nearly ready to sail, Columbus sent Diego Tristan
and eleven men ashore to obtain water. As they neared the settlement,
they saw a horde of savages rush out of the jungle and attack the
colonists. The savages were led by Quibian, who, being a heathen
and a barbarian, imagined that he had more right to his wives and
children than the Spaniards had. Tristan was an excellent old sailor,
who held that it was the first duty of man to obey orders. He had been
sent for water and not for blood, and accordingly he never thought of
interfering in the fight, but rowed steadily up the river in search of
fresh water. The Spaniards fought bravely, and repulsed the attack of
the natives; but the latter, instead of appreciating Tristan’s fidelity
to duty, fell upon him and killed him and his whole party, with the
exception of one man, who fled to the settlement with his sanguinary
story.
The Spaniards were now convinced that they had no more use for Central
America, and rushed to the ship that lay in the river, determined to
return to Spain with the Admiral. The ship, however, could not be got
over the bar, and the terrified colonists consented to listen to the
Adelentado’s advice, and to attempt to fortify the settlement. They
went on shore again, and threw up barricades--which, as every one knows
who is familiar with French politics, consist of boxes, paving-stones,
omnibuses, news-stands, and other heterogeneous articles piled together.
The barricades were better than nothing as defensive works, but they
were miserably weak. Eleven Spaniards had been killed and several
more wounded, including Don Bartholomew, and as the savages vastly
outnumbered them, the prospect that any of the colonists would escape
was extremely small.
Columbus could not understand why Tristan did not return. He knew that
Tristan was a faithful and obedient man, and that there was no rum to
be had at the settlement, so that he finally began to fear that the
natives had been acting in a disorderly way. This fear was increased
by the conduct of Quibian’s wives and children, who were on board one
of the vessels. During the night after Tristan’s departure these hasty
and ill-bred prisoners began to commit suicide by hanging themselves
or by jumping overboard, and continued this recreation so persistently
that by morning not one of them was left. If women and children could
do such an uncivil thing as this, it was only too probable that the men
of the same race were capable of creating riot and bloodshed ashore.
There was only one available small boat at the command of the Admiral,
and the sea on the bar was so heavy when the disappearance of the
Quibian family was discovered that Columbus did not dare to send the
boat ashore. Fortunately, one of the pilots, Pedro Ledesma, offered
to swim ashore if the boat would carry him part of the way. His offer
was of course accepted, and when the boat was a short distance from
the shore Ledesma sprang overboard and successfully swam through the
boiling surf. He returned in a short time, bringing the news that the
colonists were in immediate danger of being massacred.
Unless the sea should go down, Columbus could give no assistance to the
men on shore, and there was no prospect that the sea would go down.
Most men in the position of the Admiral would have been at a loss
what to do, but Columbus was a man of uncommon resources. He promptly
had a vision. A voice spoke to him in the best Scriptural style, and
assured him that everything was all right; that the colonists would
be saved, and that no one need feel any uneasiness. It is probable
that this was the voice of a sainted and remote ancestor of the late
William H. Seward, and it filled the Admiral with confidence--which
confidence it is possible was shared by the sailors when the story of
the vision was told to them. The voice proved to be a veracious one,
for the next morning there was a dead calm, and the colonists, with all
their portable property, were safely rafted on board the ships, which
immediately set sail for San Domingo in order to refit.
It was now the end of April, but the weather declined to improve.
Probably Columbus, like a skilful commander, made his men draw lots
with a view to pilgrimages, and encouraged them to vow to attend church
in their shirts; but there is no mention of these manœuvres in the
Admiral’s log. The ships were nearly eaten up by the teredo and could
with difficulty be kept afloat. One was abandoned, and the crew taken
on board the other two. These reached the islands lying south of Cuba
which Columbus had discovered on his second voyage, where they were
detained nearly a week by violent storms. When the voyage was resumed
the head-winds promptly resumed also, and finally, with his ships
leaking like sieves out of repair, and his provisions nearly exhausted,
Columbus bore up for Jamaica, which he reached on the 23d of June. The
next day he entered the harbor of Port Santa Gloria, where his decrepit
vessels were run ashore to keep them from sinking, and were firmly
lashed together.