When you wish very much to do a certain thing it is dreadfully hard to
be patient; it is harder still to have to wait. Columbus had to do both.
The wars against the Moors were of much greater interest to the king and
queen of Spain than was the finding of a new and very uncertain way to
get to Cathay. If it had not been for the patience and what we call the
persistence of Columbus, America would never have been discovered--at
least not in his time.
He staid in Spain. He grew poorer and, poorer. He was almost friendless.
It seemed as if his great enterprise must be given up. But he never lost
hope. He never stopped trying. Even when he failed he kept on hoping and
kept on trying. He felt certain that sometime he should succeed.
As we have seen, he tried to interest the rulers of different countries,
but with no success. He tried to get help from his old home-town of
Genoa and failed; he tried Portugal and failed; he tried the Republic of
Venice and failed; he tried the king and queen of Spain and failed; he
tried some of the richest and most powerful of the nobles of Spain
and failed; he tried the king of England (whom he got his brother,
Bartholomew Columbus, to go and see) and failed. There was still left
the king of France. He would make one last attempt to win the king and
queen of Spain to his side and if he failed with them he would try the
last of the rulers of Western Europe, the king of France.
He followed the king and queen of Spain as they went from place to place
fighting the Moors. He hoped that some day, when they wished to think
of something besides fighting, they might think of him and the gold and
jewels and spices of Cathay.
The days grew into months, the months to years, and still the war
against the Moors kept on; and still Columbus waited for the chance that
did not come. People grew to know him as "the crazy explorer" as they
met him in the streets or on the church steps of Seville or Cordova, and
even ragged little boys of the town, sharp-eyed and shrill-voiced as all
such ragged little urchins are, would run after this big man with
the streaming white hair and the tattered cloak, calling him names or
tapping their brown little foreheads with their dirty fingers to show
that even they knew that he was "as crazy as a loon."
At last he decided to make one more attempt before giving it up in
Spain. His money was gone; his friends were few; but he remembered his
acquaintances at Palos and so he journeyed back to see once more his
good friend Friar Juan Perez at the Convent of Rabida on the hill that
looked out upon the Atlantic he was so anxious to cross.
It was in the month of November, 1491, that he went back to the
Convent of Rabida. If he could not get any encouragement there, he was
determined to stay in Spain no longer but to go away and try the king of
France.
Once more he talked over the finding of Cathay with the priests and the
sailors of Palos. They saw how patient he was; how persistent he was;
how he would never give up his ideas until he had tried them. They were
moved by his determination. They began to believe in him more and more.
They resolved to help him. One of the principal sea captains of Palos
was named Martin Alonso Pinzon. He became so interested that he offered
to lend Columbus money enough to make one last appeal to the king and
queen of Spain, and if Columbus should succeed with them, this Captain
Pinzon said that he would go into partnership with Columbus and help him
out when it came to getting ready to sail to Cathay.
This was a move in the right direction. At once a messenger was sent
to the splendid Spanish camp before the city of Granada, the last
unconquered city of the Moors of Spain. The king and queen of Spain had
been so long trying to capture Granada that this camp was really a city,
with gates and walls and houses. It was called Santa Fe. Queen Isabella,
who was in Santa Fe, after some delay, agreed to hear more about the
crazy scheme of this persistent Genoese sailor, and the Friar Juan Perez
was sent for. He talked so well in behalf of his friend Columbus that
the queen became still more interested. She ordered Columbus to come and
see her, and sent him sixty-five dollars to pay for a mule, a new suit
of clothes and the journey to court.
About Christmas time, in the year 1491, Columbus, mounted upon his mule,
rode into the Spanish camp before the city of Granada. But even now,
when he had been told to come, he had to wait. Granada was almost
captured; the Moors were almost conquered. At last the end came. On
the second of January, 1492, the Moorish king gave up the keys of his
beloved city, and the great Spanish banner was hoisted on the highest
tower of the Alhambra--the handsomest building in Granada and one of
the most beautiful in the world. The Moors were driven out of Spain and
Columbus's chance had come.
So he appeared before Queen Isabella and her chief men and told them
again of all his plans and desires. The queen and her advisers sat in a
great room in that splendid Alhambra I have told you of. King Ferdinand
was not there. He did not believe in Columbus and did not wish to let
him have either money, ships or sailors to lose in such a foolish way.
But as Columbus stood before her and talked so earnestly about how he
expected to find the Indies and Cathay and what he hoped to bring away
from there, Queen Isabella listened and thought the plan worth trying.
Then a singular thing happened. You would think if you wished for
something very much that you would give up a good deal for the sake of
getting it. Columbus had worked and waited for seventeen years. He had
never got what he wanted. He was always being disappointed. And yet,
as he talked to the queen and told her what he wished to do, he said he
must have so much as a reward for doing it that the queen and her
chief men were simply amazed at his--well, what the boys to-day call
"cheek"--that they would have nothing to do with him. This man really
is crazy, they said. This poor Genoese sailor comes here without a thing
except his very odd ideas, and almost "wants the earth" as a reward.
This is not exactly what they said, but it is what they meant.
His few friends begged him to be more modest. Do not ask so much, they
said, or you will get nothing. But Columbus was determined. I have
worked and waited all these years, he replied. I know just what I can
do and just how much I can do for the king and queen of Spain. They must
pay me what I ask and promise what I say, or I will go somewhere else.
Go, then! said the queen and her advisers. And Columbus turned his back
on what seemed almost his last hope, mounted his mule and rode away.
Then something else happened. As Columbus rode off to find the French
king, sick and tired of all his long and useless labor at the Spanish
court, his few firm friends there saw that, unless they did something
right away, all the glory and all the gain of this enterprise Columbus
had taught them to believe in would be lost to Spain. So two of them,
whose names were Santangel and Quintanilla, rushed into the queen's
room and begged her, if she wished to become the greatest queen in
Christendom, to call back this wandering sailor, agree to his terms and
profit by his labors.
What if he does ask a great deal? they said. He has spent his life
thinking his plan out; no wonder he feels that he ought to have a good
share of what he finds. What he asks is really small compared with what
Spain will gain. The war with the Moors has cost you ever so much; your
money-chests are empty; Columbus will fill them up. The people of Cathay
are heathen; Columbus will help you make them Christian men. The Indies
and Cathay are full of gold and jewels; Columbus will bring you home
shiploads of treasures. Spain has conquered the Moors; Columbus will
help you conquer Cathay.
In fact, they talked to Queen Isabella so strongly and so earnestly,
that she, too, became excited over this chance for glory and riches that
she had almost lost, Quick! send for Columbus. Call him back! she said.
I agree to his terms. If King Ferdinand cannot or will not take the
risk, I, the queen, will do it all. Quick! do not let the man get into
France. After him. Bring him back!
And without delay a royal messenger, mounted on a swift horse, was sent
at full gallop to bring Columbus back.
All this time poor Columbus felt bad enough. Everything had gone wrong.
Now he must go away into a new land and do it all over again. Kings and
queens, he felt, were not to be depended upon, and he remembered a
place in the Bible where it said: "Put not your trust in princes." Sad,
solitary and heavy-hearted, he jogged slowly along toward the mountains,
wondering what the king of France would say to him, and whether it was
really worth trying.
Just as he was riding across the little bridge called the Bridge of
Pinos, some six miles from Granada, he heard the quick hoof-beats of a
horse behind him. It was a great spot for robbers, and Columbus felt of
the little money he had in his traveling pouch, and wondered whether he
must lose it all. The hoof-beats came nearer. Then a voice hailed him.
Turn back, turn back! the messenger cried out. The queen bids you return
to Granada. She grants you all you ask.
Columbus hesitated. Ought he to trust this promise, he wondered. Put not
your trust in princes, the verse in the Bible had said. If I go back I
may only be put off and worried as I have been before. And yet, perhaps
she means what she says. At any rate, I will go back and try once more.
So, on the little Bridge of Pinos, he turned his mule around and rode
back to Granada. And, sure enough, when he saw Queen Isabella she
agreed to all that he asked. If he found Cathay, Columbus was to be
made admiral for life of all the new seas and oceans into which he might
sail; he was to be chief ruler of all the lands he might find; he was to
keep one tenth part of all the gold and jewels and treasures he should
bring away, and was to have his "say" in all questions about the new
lands. For his part (and this was because of the offer of his friend at
Palos, Captain Pinzon) he agreed to pay one eighth of all the expenses
of this expedition and of all new enterprises, and was to have one
eighth of all the profits from them.
So Columbus had his wish at last. The queen's men figured up how
much money they could let him have; they called him "Don Christopher
Columbus," "Your Excellency" and "Admiral," and at once he set about
getting ready for his voyage.